#and why the hell is he actually one of the nicest parents like huh?..?man what??

[hana-bobo-finch]

a strange trend in my favorite characters I realize is that I tend to heavily gravitate toward somewhat obscure, antagonistic forces

[alynomali]

Iwaizumi Hajime x Reader  “𝚏𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜”

A/N : Hi hello i just got into tumblr and this is my first time writing a full on one shot in english because english is not my first language ;( so i’m sorry if there’s any error in my writing but i hope you guys can still enjoy the story :D anyway i’m on an iwaizumi hajime brainrot and i know y’all too so let’s just get into ittt ***** 

Genre : Fluff 

Word Count : 5k 

You woke up feeling lightheaded. You brought the back of your palm to feel your forehead that was burning hot hours ago. But after four hours of sleep and taking your medicine, the heat has subsided and was replaced by your normal body temperature. You sighed in relief but you still didn’t want to step up from your comfortable bed. Instead you rolled to the side to grab your phone that was laying on the nightstand, to get some info on school assignment, or any big news that you missed throughout today from your friends because you didn’t manage to go to school. When you turned off airplane mode, tons of messages from your close friend’s group chat rang loudly with multiple  ringing sounds, coming one after another. When the ringing finally stops, you open the group chat and skim through the chat bubbles your friends sent, curious to what they are discussing.

“Oh? They lost?” you murmur to yourself after getting an understatement. Today is the match of your school’s volleyball team against Karasuno High School. From the people who went and saw the match, it was pretty intense and they were neck to neck to one another. But in the end Karasuno won and they only a point difference from Aoba Johsai. The further you read the chats, one caught your attention

 I saw Oikawa toss the ball to Iwaizumi from the right end of the court and Iwaizumi got to spike it perfectly! That was crazyy

 Yeah, but even with that perfect toss and powerful spike, Karasuno managed to get it. Both team are crazyyy

 I saw Iwaizumi-kun cried In the hallway, poor him. He must’ve think that that one spike was important

 Aww no

 You slowly sat up from your bed, while still reading those lines over and over again. “Iwaizumi…” you mumbled to the air. You then checked the clock hanging on your bedroom wall, you saw that it was 7.56PM. ‘He should be home already..’

 You heard a knock on your door, and your mom peeked through. “Oh you’re awake! How are you feeling?”

“Great! My fever is gone”

“If that’s so, can you go to Hajime’s house? His mother and father are working late and he probably hasn’t had dinner, so drop these for him okay?” asked your mother while holding a nicely wrapped box probably filled with food.

 “Uh yeah okay. I’ll get ready”

 It is not a secret. To you, your close friends, and specifically Oikawa Tooru, that you have a crush on Iwaizumi Hajime. This has been going on for a long time, since the beginning of second grade. You got to be in the same class as Iwaizumi. At first you were a bit scared of him due to the somewhat tense atmosphere surrounding him, but turns out, he is the nicest guy you ever met. He spoke in a deep and gruff voice, but there’s so much tenderness in the way he speaks. His arms and hands are big and calloused from playing too much volleyball, but whenever he accidentally touches you, he is always so careful with his grip, or makes sure that he doesn’t touch you in an inappropriate way. His tall figure always towers over your 160 cm figure, but it made you feel secure. And there are many small acts he does to you that always make something in your stomach flip. You know that those are just the way he respects the opposite gender (from your observation), but it still made him so attractive to you. Plus he looks cute and manly although not you can call a worldwide handsome. Also  He probably hid a well toned body underneath the layers of cloth he wears. Before you got too far and deep into your thoughts of that man, you quickly shook your head to focus on your current mission right now. Iwaizumi probably is sulking as hell right now and you want to do something nice for him, or maybe just there to give him reassurance.

 iwaizumi’s house is just seven minutes walk from your house. Before you rang the bell, you noticed that the gate was not locked. “Did he forget to lock it?” you opened the gate and made your way to the also not locked door. You saw his training bag in the hallway entrance, meaning that Iwaizumi is home. But you were glad that there were no signs of robbery. “Iwaizumi?” you called him. The living room and dining room were clean and empty. Not even a slightest sound was heard. “He’s probably in his room”. You climbed up the stairs and saw that the door of his room is slightly open and you could see him inside drying his hair with a towel, back facing you

You knocked on the door and Iwaizumi jumped slightly. “y/n? How did you get in?”. You sighed, “You left the front door and gate open,”. “Oh.., wait here then I’ll go lock it,” Iwaizumi then went downstairs leaving you sitting alone in his room on his study chair. You’ve gone to his bedroom a couple times but this time it feels different. The room is filled with his scent of cologne and shampoo from his shower earlier. You carefully breathe it in and a blush crept to your cheeks, just in time Iwaizumi stepped back in the room “Okay wha- wait, why are your face red?”

You flustered, “What! N-No I’m perfectly fine! Maybe it’s because of my fever earlier, hahahaha.”

Iwaizumi raised a brow, “Okay? Anyway, why are you here?” he asks as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed, keeping his distance from you.

“O-Oh yea, um, my mother made you dinner. She said that your parents will be home late,” you said holding up the wrapped box in your hand.

“I already ate but i guess there’s still space for your mom’s cooking. Say my thanks for her,” you smiled at his words.

“Should I walk you back? It’s dark.”

“What? No, it’s not even 8pm and my house is just seven minutes away.”

“Okay then, thankyou again. Be careful on your way back.”

‘Wait? No no no no, I can’t just go home like this. He’s probably not going to eat his food and be sulking instead,” You stood up. Iwaizumi thought you were going to leave so he grabbed his phone on the nightstand and got comfortable on his bed with his back resting against the headboard. He didn’t sense your figure leaving his room so his eyes left his phone to look at you, “why are you still here? It’s not appropriate for a girl to stay in a boy’s room.”

“You did very well today, Iwaizumi.”

“huh?”

You clutched your fingers, “You did so well in the match today. I’m proud of you. Never think that you lost because of a big mistake. You didn’t make any mistake. You gave your best as you always do. Winning or losing is just a result. What matters is that even if you lost, you still gave all your might in the court. All of your hard work, your sneaky practices at the park in the late afternoon, it’s all worth it. Because you gave it all in the court today. Nothing goes to waste.”

Your voice was stern, but there’s a hint of tenderness in it. Iwaizumi just looked at you dumbfounded . After a while, Iwaizumi gave you a soft smile “Thanks, sorry we didn’t keep our promise to go to nationals.”

“Don’t mind me. That is your promise to yourself.”

“Right.”

After that, you still stood there. Arms crossed on your chest. Iwaizumi eyed you in confusion. “What…? Is there again?”

You then sat on the bed beside him, arms still crossed on your chest, “You’re gonna cry. I’m gonna stay here to accompany you until you’re done.”

“What?! No, I'm fine, you should go home now.”

“I’m not gonna let you be alone until you feel better,” you said sternly

“W-Wha- ugh..” Iwaizumi turned his face to the side, not facing you as he can no longer contain the tears that have been threatening to fall ever since he was greeted by the emptiness of his house. Because of the silence, replays of today’s match became clear in his mind. Every step, every move, every shout of frustration , every cheer of happiness, and the last whistle signaling the end of the game. It was awfully clear, every bit of it, and it made him feel hopeless. Like there’s nothing that he can do. His shoulder began to shake, and you could hear soft sobs. It’s like he’s holding back to scream because you’re there.

You never actually see Iwaizumi cry and now being alone with him is his weakest state flustering you. You did say that you’re gonna accompany him but now you’re confused as to what to do. You stayed silent, just watching him. He still doesn’t face you and his sobs became softer. You don’t like this, he’s holding back so much because you’re there. This is probably supposed to be his time, when he shut his door, turned off the lights, and curled under the blanket. Letting out all of his frustration into anything he can manage. But then you decided to come. You hate to admit it but you ruined his time.

But still, you didn’t want to leave.

So instinctively, you reached out your hand to touch the back of his neck. You can feel Iwaizumi tensed up a little. As he slowly turned his head to finally look at you, you and your hand up further to the back of his head, fingers buried in his soft brunette hair. Iwaizumi’s red and teary eyes looked at you in slight confusion, and you stared back at him with a pang in your heart. Seeing his hurting expression for the first time feels like something stabbed your chest. ‘So this is what it feels like.. when you care so much about someone..’

Without another hesitation, you lean your body towards him and let his head fall on your shoulder. The warmth of his body envelopes you and you can feel the sturdiness of his body. You wrapped both of your arms on his shoulder, trapping him in a hug. Your fingers stayed buried in his hair as you started to give it a soft scratch in an attempt to soothe him. “I said I’ll accompany you. So vent all you want. I’m listening.”

You couldn’t see iwaizumi’s expression. But you could feel his body relaxed to your soft touches and he began to cry loudly, “Damn it! Damn those Karasuno..! I-I too.. I want to go to the nationals too fucking damn it!! I want to go with my friends too… with my juniors.. damnit! Damnit argh!!” you  tighten your grip on him cause you feel like he’s going to burst. But you’re glad that he doesn’t move away from you. He was always so physical about these things, but now he just uses his words and emotions.

After some minutes, the hurtful scream and cry gradually turns into a soft sobbing. Your grip around his shoulder soften as Iwaizumi slowly moves away from you. “S-Sorry for ranting and um.. hugging you,” he sniffed and rubbed away the remaining tears leaking out.

You smile, “Don’t worry, but it feels good doesn’t it?”. He chuckled softly, “yeah.”

You fiddled with your fingers on your lap, “I’m sure everyone is feeling the same as you, Iwaizumi. I’m sorry I barged in into your supposed to be alone time. But I just couldn’t help it, I just can’t go to sleep tonight thinking about how you will have trouble sleeping. The others maybe will, but I won’t let you. Because you’re-- um..” you immediately stopped your words. Because just now you were just about to say the thing. Being alone with him and getting caught up in the mood urges you to, but you reminded yourself that you can’t do that, not when he’s in this state.

“What about me?” Iwaizumi tilted his head to the side, eyeing you in confusion.

You immediately shot up from his bed and gave him a wide smile, “Nothing! Anyway, enjoy your food. I should get going now,” you said while pointing towards the door.

“Uh? Oh yeah okay, I’ll open the gate for you,” you were tailing behind Iwaizumi as the two of you were heading downstairs. Luckily for Iwaizumi, you couldn’t see heat creeping up to his cheeks and he is starting to register what just happened between you two.

‘Nah, she can’t be…. Right?’

                              ~------------------------------------------------~

 The next day, you woke up from the ringing of your smartphone placed on your nightstand. You didn’t bother to look at the caller ID and just answer, “Ugh.. hello?”

“Did you just wake up?” Iwaizumi’s deep and gruff voice from the other line jolts you up from your sleeping position, “I-Iwaizumi??”

“I want to return the lunch box from last night. I had been ringing the bell but no one came out.”

“Ah right sorry. My parents left early to my grandparents house. I’ll be there wait a second”

When you opened the door you were greeted by the sight of Iwaizumi looking nice and neat in a pair of black jeans and a slightly oversized denim jacket over a grey hoodie. Your breath hitch at the sight of him until he starts talking, “Here” he handed the clean lunch box to you, nicely wrapped as well “The food was good, thank you”

“Yeah, you're welcome. Um.. are you going somewhere?” You asked while accepting the lunch box.

“I’m going to see Karasuno and Shiratorizawa match,” he said, putting his hands inside his pocket.

Concern filled your expression, “Are you feeling alright?”

He smiled softly, “Yeah, I can’t stay bummed out for too long.”

“That’s good then!” You beamed with a smile.

“I’ll be going then. When will your parents come back home?”

“Um.. maybe at night. They said they're gonna be there for a while.”

“And why aren’t you coming with them?” he asks again.

“I’m starting to prepare for the college entrance exam,” you said while rubbing the back of your neck .

“Ah, that’s nice. Well then, goodluck on it. Be careful, if anything happens, call me or Oikawa” he said, turning his back towards you. This soft part of Iwaizumi showing that he cares about you always makes your heart flutter and makes you fell deeper for him.

“Y-Yeah.. thank you..” and with that, you closed the door. You sighed as you tried to calm the loud thumping of your heart.

You mumbled, “Maybe.. I can do it today.. he seems to be in  a good mood.”

You looked down towards the ground, thinking hard, “Confession huh…”

                                     ~----------------------------------~

 Later that day, Karasuno vs Shiratorizawa match ended with Karasuno as the winner thus continuing to the national stage. Surprisingly to Iwaizumi he met Oikawa in one of the seats and now they are walking together out of the gymnasium.

“Hey Iwa-chan~, let’s go grab some food. I’m feeling like shit,” Oikawa said with a scowl on his face, his nose scrunched

“Then don’t come to see the match if you’re gonna be like this!”

“Stop being so rude and treat your best friend nicely for once will ya?!” Oikawa said with his arms folded on his chest.

Iwaizumi sighed, didn’t want to deal with Oikawa’s words any further, “Fine let’s go get something to eat,”

“Yay~! Let’s eat at a fast food restaurant!”

Along the way to the nearest fast food restaurant, Iwaizumi’s mind was wandering everywhere. Oikawa started to notice this because his friend had been bumping into stuff during their short walk. Oikawa bumped Iwaizumi’s shoulder to get his attention. He slightly jolted and he glanced at him, “What?”

“Is there something on your mind?”

“Huh? No, why?”

Oikawa sighed, “Really, Iwa-chan. You should be more honest. You almost stepped on a kid back there.”

Iwaizumi only huffed at Oikawa’s words.

“Is it a girl??”

“Can you shut up.”

“A girl it is!” Oikawa beamed, “Who is it? Who is it??”

“No I’m not thinking of that!” Lies. The truth is he was thinking of you. About what happened last night. About how you gave him the warmest hug he ever received. How you convey your words of comfort to him. He may have kept a dumbfounded face at that time but the truth is thousands of butterflies were raging inside his whole body. He didn’t know if it was because he has a thing for you or if it’s because he was flustered because you’re a girl and he is a boy. He never really thought of fawning over somebody. All he thinks about is just studying and volleyball. Yahaba and Kindaichi always prattle about how much they want a girlfriend but he’s never really into those kinds of conversation. But what if he’s finally getting his first ever love story now? He’ll be damned because he’s never prepared himself for these kinds of things, even though he’s almost 19 years old.

So he decides to swallow hard his ego and eyed his gaudy bestfriend intensely, before he forces words out of his mouth “Um.. O-Oikaw—”

“Oh! Is that y/n-chan?” Oikawa suddenly said as he pointed a finger to get Iwaizumi to also look at where you were standing. Oikawa is about to call you when Iwaizumi suddenly blurted out

“W-Wait! Don’t call her!”

Oikawa looked at Iwaizumi confused, but then his lips formed a cheeky grin “Humm?? What’s this?”

Iwaizumi's face turns beet red, “A-Ah! No I-I’m—Um..” Iwaizumi wanted to die instantly at that exact moment because now Oikawa is clearly holding back his laughter. A mischievous grin is plastered on Oikawa’s face as he ignored Iwaizumi and made his way towards you calling out your name, “Y/n-chaann~!”

Iwaizumi gritted his teeth while covering half of his face with his hand “Fuck that shittykawa,”

You were standing on the side, beside the trashcan as you are currently finishing your drink so you can quickly throw it onto the trashcan. Until the familiar voice of Oikawa beamed through the street, making you quickly snap your head to the side to see Oikawa currently walking towards you with Iwaizumi behind him.

“Oikawa! Iwaizumi!”

“Yahoo, what you doing here alone?” asked Oikawa.

“I just came from the bookstore. I’m looking for stuff to help me study,” you answered, throwing your empty drink into the trashcan.

“Me and Iwa-chan are going to eat right now, do you wanna come? Iwa-chan really wants you to come apparently,” Oikawa said wiggling his eyebrows at Iwaizumi.

“HUH?!” Iwaizumi was beating the shit out of Oikawa while you only stood there smiling awkwardly.

“Uhm yeah sure I’ll come.” You answered when they finally calmed down.

“Yay~ okay then let’s goo! And Iwa-chan stop being so jumpy and fidgety will you?”

“I’M NOT! Come on let’s go,” you eyed Iwaizumi worriedly, wondering if you did something wrong. So you reached Iwaizumi's side and asked him “Hey, are you alright?”

“Huh? Oh yeah I’m fine. Don’t worry about it, sorry,” Iwaizumi said as he averted his eyes from you. Iwaizumi is acting weird when you join their walk to the restaurant just now, you didn’t want to think too much into it yet you can feel slight warmth creeping up your cheeks.

“We’re here!” After five minutes the three of them finally arrived at the said fast food restaurant. You offered to find a seat while Iwaizumi and Oikawa went to stand on the line to order. You finally sat yourself down and got yourself comfortable. Unknown to you, Oikawa and Iwaizumi are having their own convo about you.

“Is there something going on between you two?” Oikawa asks.

“…no”

“And I will say this to you over and over again, be honest Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi pondered for a moment before talking in a much quieter tone, “Yesterday.. y/n came to my house.”

Oikawa blinked, “What? Why?”

Iwaizumi grunted, reaching up his hand to rub the back of his neck to somehow ease the heat on his face, “Um.. she actually came to give me food because my parents are home late. And um.. after that…'' Iwaizumi trailed off, hiding his face from Oikawa.

“What! Don’t leave me hanging!” Oikawa then gasps, “Oh my god don’t tell me---!”

Iwaizumi quickly retorts, “No shithead! She just hugged me because she knows that we lost the game yesterday. And um I don’t know how to explain it but at that time, everything feels so intimate and uh- I don’t know…”

“Ohh~ So you’re in love?” Oikawa smirks.

To Oikawa’s surprise Iwaizumi didn’t yell or smack him in the head but only eyed him, “I don’t really know. I mean, I’ve always been so flustered whenever she does something for me. But I don’t know if it’s just because I feel nervous of the opposite sex.”

Oikawa tapped Iwaizumi on the shoulder, “Well my man, it doesn’t matter if you both are the opposite gender. If you don’t feel anything towards her then you will be comfortable in any kind of situation. Don’t worry I got your back, because I know you’re suck at this so I’ll make the chance so you two can have a talk together,” Oikawa said with a wink at the end.

“Ugh.. I can’t believe I’m getting advice from you… you look a hundred times more annoying right now.” Iwaizumi muttered.

“Rude Iwa-chan~!”

Suddenly people around them were silent and started whispering while looking in a certain direction. Oikawa and Iwaizumi stopped their bickering to try and see what’s going on. Not long after, there are two staff coming out from behind the counter to go to a certain table

“Miss, are you alright?”

“We have a change of clothes if you’d like..”

Iwaizumi pushed himself through the people gathering around the scene and saw that it was you. Your outfit was drenched in supposedly a drink, some of the liquid even splat onto the table and on the floor under too, making a mess.

“Y/n!” Iwaizumi goes into full panic as he runs towards you with Oikawa behind.

When they got to your side, Iwaizumi immediately asked, “What happened?! Are you alright?!”

“Yeah.. just now a guy came up to me and tried to ask for my number. I declined it but he just kept pushing me to do so, and I pissed him off so he threw the drink he was holding at me..” you let out a small laugh.

Iwaizumi gritted his teeth and punched his fist onto the table “Where is he now, that jerk!”

“It’s alright Iwaizumi! He already left. I’ll just go and change now, it’s not like things like this never happen anyways,” you gave him a reassuring smile. Iwaizumi looks at you in shock, “I mean for a stranger to hit on me! They are usually never that aggressive. I'll change now okay.” You said standing up from your seat, following the staff to get your change of cloth.

Iwaizumi let out a deep sigh and began to help clean the mess on the table. He shot a glare towards Oikawa who was just standing on the sideline, “What are you doing standing there trashykawa!”

Oikawa only smiled and shrugged, “I just don’t want to ruin your moment. You’d be a good protective boyfriend Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi only grumbled in response.

 After all of that commotion, the three of you still sat down and enjoyed the meal. Even though the staff told you three that the food will be at service, you didn’t think it was necessary so you still have your peaceful lunch with Iwaizumi and Oikawa. The conversation you guys had quickly washed away the tense atmosphere. Oikawa and Iwaizumi talk about the match earlier and how pissed they were that karasuno won. But they seem to be a lot more chill than yesterday so you just laugh it off with them. After that the three of you left the restaurant and walked back to your neighborhood.

You were still talking with Iwaizumi and Oikawa along the way. You seem to not notice but you were talking and smiling towards Iwaizumi more, it has always been like that whenever the three of you hung out. You and Iwaizumi always seem to gravitate towards one another and it’s making Oikawa feel like he’s third wheeling. But he’s not mad though, he finds it cute. Now he’ll just have to give both of them a push.

Oikawa halted his track and cleared his throat, “Guys sorry but I need to go somewhere.”

You and Iwaizumi both stopped talking and stopped your track as well, “Why so sudden, Oikawa?”

“No big deal, I just forgot to buy something my sister asked for. You guys can go home!” Oikawa then lightly put his hand on Iwaizumi’s shoulder, giving him a thumbs up and a big smile, telling him through his head ‘Good luck Iwa-chan!’

 Iwaizumi’s eyes widened, mouth went agape, ‘Now?! Wait, I’m not ready yet!’

“Bye you guys~!” Oikawa sprinted to the other direction, leaving Iwaizumi and you alone. ‘Damn that trashykawaaa….’

“Let’s go, Iwaizumi ,” you said softly. Iwaizumi quickly became flustered, “Uhh.. yeah right.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence while continuing the walk. You were looking around as you walked while Iwaizumi on the other hand was in deep thought, thinking of how to use this situation to make his move. His train of thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your sweet voice calling out to him, “Iwaizumi, do you want to drop by the park? There is this small taiyaki stand that I want to try.”

“Sure,” Iwaizumi said with a small smile.

It was a quite chilly day and a gush of wind just so happened to pass through you and Iwaizumi. You didn’t have your long sleeved because it was wet from an earlier accident and was replaced by a short sleeved one provided by the staff from the restaurant. They apologize that they didn’t have a much warmer cloth but you reassure them that it’s fine because your house is close by.

In the midst of trying to keep yourself warm by rubbing the side of your arms, you suddenly felt warmth on your back as a jacket draped over your shoulder. You look to the side to see that Iwaizumi took off his outer jacket and gave it to you, “You look uncomfortable, wear this in the meantime,” Iwaizumi muttered softly, trying to press down his embarrassment.

You felt your cheeks heated up, “T-Thankyou..” you slid your arms into the sleeve to wear his jacket properly. It was obviously too big for you and his scent immediately envelopes you.

The two of you reached the park and your face beamed a smile, “Thank goodness not many people here, the other day the line was quite long so I didn’t get it. Come on, Iwaizumi!” you said as you ran happily towards the stand. He smiled softly at the sight of your small figure on his clothes and followed you.

You both sat on a nearby bench eating your taiyaki, “Ah, it’s warm..” you took a bite and hummed in delight. Iwaizumi's heart flutters upon seeing your cute gestures.

“This really worth 350 yen isn’t it, Iwaizumi---” You looked at Iwaizumi and saw that he’s actually looking at you. You froze and felt your heart beat faster at how Iwaizumi looked at you with such adoreness. You went silent for a few seconds, just looking back at Iwaizumi until you whispered. “Um.. is there something on my face?”

“Yeah.. you’re beautiful,” Iwaizumi said softly with no expression.

“W-What?” you were taken aback.

Iwaizumi sighed and looked down to his hands, he fiddled his fingers as he spoke, “I’m not good at this kind of things.. so um..”

You waited for Iwaizumi to finish as your heart beats faster every second making it hard to breathe.

Iwaizumi grunted and rubbed the back of his neck, “Y-You know how you said that you sometimes.. got hit up by a random guy on the street and um.. I was thinking maybe it’ll be easier to brush them off if you.. you uh.. have a boyfriend…”

Your whole face now is red, “O-Okay..?”

Iwaizumi finally faced you, staring into your eyes, “I-I mean to say—I’ll be your boyfriend!”

You went silent and you only stared at him with your mouth agape.

“I have always been so flustered whenever I’m with you, and without noticing I get jealous when a guy approaches you, like I was so mad earlier when a guy—no, I’ll get mad at whoever did something like that to you. So uh.. I’ll be your boyfriend.. if you’d like… so I can always be there for you..” he trailed off towards the end.

You were so taken aback that you just fell silent. Iwaizumi covered his face from embarrassment, “Argh.. that is such an uncute way of confessing, I’m sorry I don’t---”

Suddenly you let out a laugh, Iwaizumi removed his hand from his face to look at you with a pout, “Don’t laugh at me!”

“Sorry sorry! But you are just so cute. I can’t believe you can be this cute,” you said with a smile still plastered on your face.

Iwaizumi grunted, “S-So.. what’s your answer?”

“Hmm.. but I’m kinda upset that you beat me into confessing..”

Iwaizumi’s head snapped towards you, “Wait what?”

“Last night I actually wanted to confess to you, but I thought that the timing would be bad so I’m thinking when I should do it. But it turns out you confess the day after. So I guess I shouldn’t worry too much about you,” you said giggling.

“Well, I guess you do always made me feel better,”

You both fell silent again. Iwaizumi nervously spoke again, “So.. are you saying yes?”

You smiled, giving him a quick peck on his cheek, “Of course~”

Iwaizumi slumped down on his seat, face already overheated, “I guess I have to get used to this..”

                                       ~-----------------------------------~

a/n : arrgghh i can’t believe i finish this, more iwa-chan fics will be coming soon because he’s a precious man :D

[p4nkow]

After school tutoring

Hey-ho! I don't really know if I can say that I'm back with writing but yeah, I wrote something

I’ve watched OBX as soon as it came out but I’ve struggled with coming up with an innovative idea (so you can easily imagine how excited I was when this one surprisingly popped up in my mind)

Summary: JJ really needs a tutor not to fail his French class, but he doesn’t seem to excited about the idea. Especially when the Tutor he’s been assigned to is a Kook he grew up with, who seems to be friends with the Rafe and the rest of the Scooby Gang. Y’know, the usual with some good ol’ angst and fluff

So, of course, it’s a JJ x reader

Warnings: nothing much, really. Rafe’s a bit of a jerk, but not as much as in the show (I have a soft spot for him). Oh and also some violence (but blink and you’ll miss it, I swear)

hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think :)

gif not mine so credit to the owner

Your father always told you that you were one of the nicest and most patient little girls that he had ever known. Ever since you were a child, you’ve always been such a Florence Nightingale. You’d always help Mrs. Goode cross the street on her way back home — especially when Rafe and his bloody motorcycle where nearby — or you’d always take care of some abandoned kittens until you could find them a proper and loving home.

Yeah, you were that kind of nice. You were Jamie Sullivan kind-of-nice, straight out of A walk to remember but without your Landon Carter.

No matter how many times your own actions backfired at you, you never regretted them. Not even when Kielce tried to embarrass you in front of everyone at Midsummers, after you trying to hide the fact that he was stoned from his parents. Or when the Pogues kept throwing daggers at you for just being a Kook. Well, half Kook. You were as Kook as Kiara.

Nevertheless, you never regretted anything— until now.

What the hell were you thinking when you volunteered for the after-school program? No, after-school was not the real problem. The real matter was who had been assigned to you.

JJ Maybank.

It wasn’t like you couldn’t stand his sight or anything. No, nothing like that. He just didn’t seem to know you existed. Which was odd, considered that he did nothing but pick up a fight with your best friend every three or four minutes.

Maybe he simply ignored you because you were a Kook. Well, half Kook.

And as he waited for his tutor – for you. As he waited for you, sitting on one of the farthest desks in the classroom, he looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there. Both his elbows were on the desk, a grin lit up his face as he texted someone.

Man, this was going to be fun.

A few steps and you were right next to him. The grip on the books you were holding against your chest was so tight that you couldn’t even feel your fingers anymore. There was no reason for you to be that nervous, yet you had to take a deep breath before speaking to him.

“Hey.” As simple as that. It came out more as a squeak than as a word, but whatever.

His blue eyes moved from the screen to you. He held your gaze for a few moments, before letting his eyes slide all over your body.

“Hey”, he replied. His tone was amused as his grin grew wider. His phone was now locked but he didn’t put it away.

His curious gaze followed your movements as you took a seat in front of him, placing your books on the empty space between the two of you. “Looks like I’m stuck with you.”

“Is that a problem?” The smile on his face told you that he wasn’t taking it seriously. He leaned back, bringing both his hands behind his neck as he gave you a careless look.

All you could do was shrug. “I hope not.”

A loud ding interrupted him from whatever he was about to say, as the screen of his phone lit up. His blue eyes, which seemed so amused and interested in you, quickly moved to it. JJ remained silent for a few seconds, his attention now elsewhere.

Trying to camouflage your annoyance caused by his behavior, you said “I spoke to Mrs. Roux. She told me to focus on the basics first, then we can move to the more advanced notions.”

JJ cleared his voice, leaning again towards you. His face was just a few inches away from yours and you took the chance to give a better look at his eyes – even though they seemed carefree and young, deep down you knew they were troubled. Rumors traveled faster than the wind there at the island.

“Look”, he started. “As much as I appreciate your good will, I have no intention of following a single thing you say. I’m only here to score some points with Mrs. Roux so that I don’t fail French.”

His honesty was appreciated. You couldn’t say you were surprised, though. Everybody knew that JJ cared so little of his grades. Not because he couldn’t do better, but because for whatever reason he didn’t want to.

“Then you’ll have to change your tutor”, you replied with a shrug.

After all, you had volunteered to after-school for a reason.

Your words must’ve caught him off guard. His brows narrowed and he slightly tilted his head. “Why’s that?”

“Because I’m here to help. And obviously you don’t want to be helped.”

The rays coming through the window at your left made his blonde eyes look even lighter, giving him an angelic look. If it wasn’t for the devilish grin printed on his face.

“You could score some points, too. And without any effort”, he proposed, a corner of his lips raised in an amused smile.

His words made you giggle, so you slightly shook your head. “That’s not how it works, JJ.”

“Do you know me?” Why did he seem so surprised by that? First, even though you were now in the mainland, you both lived in the island. Back there, everyone knew everyone. So of course you knew who JJ Maybank was.

The real question was, “Do you know me?”

“I know you hang out with the Scooby Gang. That’s enough for me.” He clenched his jaw and for the first time since you had taken your seat in front of him, he looked away from you.

You narrowed your brows, throwing him a confused look. “With who?”

JJ gave you a look that said ‘You already know who I’m talking about’. But to make it sure you’d understood, he said “Y’know, Rafe and the rest of the gang.

“They’re my friends.” Of course you knew that there was some bad blood between JJ’s friends and the now so-called Scooby Gang. Since the very first moment, though, you dissociated yourself from that situation. Mainly because you were friends with both Sarah – who was now hanging with the Pogues – and Rafe.

JJ pressed his lips together in a thin line. “You’ve found yourself some terrible friends, I’m afraid.”

His words hurt you. How dared he?

“You don’t really know them. Neither of you have really tried to know each other, so what do you know? I’m more than capable to pick my own friends, thank you.”

And his words made him smile. Was he making fun of you? His smile grew wider as he stared at you. “I knew you had claws hidden somewhere, kitten.”

“Kitten?”

“You’re bringing out the claws like a kitty.”

“Oh please”, you scoffed, looking away from his intense stare. “Don’t try to buy me by using your pickup lines.”

JJ laughed. It was probably the first time you ever heard him laugh — like, a real laugh — and the reactions it aroused in your stomach caught you off guard.

“I’m not trying to hit on you, Kitten. Trust me. At least not for now.” He winked at you and you could do nothing but give him an eye roll.

“Shut up.”

JJ remained silent for a while, the ghost of a smile still on his face. His gaze fell to his hands, now joined on the desk. Before speaking again, he gave you a mischievous look from under his lashes. “So you really wanna help me, huh?”

“You just said you don’t want my help.”

“That was before knowing the Kitten in you. It might actually be fun.”

You sighed deeply and shook your head. “JJ, you’re gonna fail French. You need me.”

“I don’t really care about failing French, but I’ll think about it.” His phone rang again, and you couldn’t stop yourself from eye-rolling. He gave you a quick look before lowering his gaze to the screen, pressing his lips together in a thin line.

The atmosphere had just changed, and you could feel it. The tension was tangible.

JJ swallowed hard and lowered his gaze. Then he loudly pulled away his chair, meeting your gaze again only once having stood up in front of you. “Gotta go now. Don’t bail on me, Kitten.”

He had to go. He had been there for fifteen minutes only!

While throwing him a confused glance, you replied “You don’t bail on me. You’re the one who needs help.”

His lips curved again as a reaction to your words and he held your gaze for a couple of more seconds before starting to walk away.

“JJ?” You hadn’t really meant to say it out loud, but when he turned towards you there was no going back. “We grew up together. You just never noticed I existed.”

And with his brows narrowed in an expression you couldn’t quite decipher, JJ walked away.

—

It was a Saturday just like any other, before Rafe started to persuade you to go with him at a kegger some guy was having down at the Boneyard.

“We won’t be long, right?” Yes, he got the best of you. As you sighed, you turned your head towards the window. From where his Jeep was parked, you could see the crowd already gathered around an improvised bonfire.

“Promise.” Rafe nodded as to confirm his words. “As soon as you wanna get out of here, you come tell me.”

The light of the streetlamps gave you the chance to give him a better look – the white shirt he was wearing highlighted his blue eyes, which were now giving you a hopeful look. “Fine”, you gave up. “Please behave.”

The innocent look he gave you made you giggle, so you threw him a condescending look before stepping out of the car.

You landed on the sand with a little jump, and the night breeze immediately caressed your bare legs. The choice of wearing a skirt was turning out to be a terrible decision.

Rafe made sure you were following him as he started to walk towards the heart of the party. “Are the guys already here?”

“They should be”, he murmured while giving a look around him. Kelce and Topper were nowhere to be found yet. “Let me call them.”

He lowered his gaze as he dialed Topper’s number and you took the chance to give a proper look at the situation around you. Many of your classmates were there, half of them already with a drink in their hands. There were many groups scattered around the beach and the air was filled with laughter – apparently everyone was in a good mood.

One of the first thing you noticed, though, was the equal presence of both Kooks and Pogues. Both factions were there, and for the first-time things seemed to be quiet. No daggers being throwed, no threats murmured. The atmosphere seemed to be peaceful, and you found yourself praying that it’d continue that way.

With the phone still pressed against his ear and his bottom lip between his teeth, Rafe met your gaze for a few instants before trying again to spot his friends. He nodded at someone every now and then because, after all, everyone knew Rafe. Everyone wanted to be his friend.

Everyone but the Pogues.

That’s when you noticed him.

Near one of the bungalows that was now being used as a drinks-refill, there was JJ. One of his hands was raised to hold a cup against his lips, while the other was hidden in the pocket of his short cargo pants.

Despite the darkness of the night, you could see the intensity of his blue eyes from where you were standing. His blonde locks were hidden under a red hat that he was wearing backwards.

Sarah was there with him, alongside with the rest of his friends and a couple of strangers. Female strangers. Some Tourons that he’d hit on, probably. The thought made your stomach twirl for various reasons that you weren’t ready to explore yet, so you looked away before he could notice your staring.

“There you are!” Topper’s arm surrounded your shoulders, bringing back to reality. The smile you gave him was spontaneous and warm.

Rafe sighed as he put away his phone. “You could answer my calls sometimes, asshole.”

“Actually”, Topper said, pointing his finger at Rafe’s chest “I’m pretty sure I lost my phone.”

The way he started to stagger next to you made you ask in an amused but worried tone “Are you drunk?”

Kelce giggled and nodded after meeting Topper’s eyes. “No, we aren’t. Do you want something to drink, Y/N?”

Before you could even give him an answer, you were interrupted by a new voice. “Hey Rafe.” A petite blonde was now standing in front of Rafe. His smile grew wider as he looked down at her and you knew that you’d lost his company even before he could reply.

She handed him a drink and Rafe gave you a quick look with the corner of his eyes. A smirk was all you gave him, and he took it as a good sign. “Hey, doll.”

Lame.

The two of them started to chat and Topper and Kelce were caught in the most intense, drunken conversation, so when you said “I’m gonna grab a drink”, you weren’t even sure who you were talking to.

On your way to the bungalow, you made sure to take the long way, trying to avoid JJ’s group. There wasn’t a particular reason for you not wanting to see him – or was there? All you knew was that he made you incredibly nervous, and you didn’t like that feeling. And sure as hell you didn’t like the way you felt when you saw him with those Tourons.

Stop it, Y/N.

Inside the bungalow there were a few people refilling their cups. After a few “Hey” and “How’s it going?” you finally made your way to the counter. It was hard to tell what those drinks were made of, so you opted for a simple beer.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” You were so lost in your thoughts that the cup almost slid off your fingers as JJ’s voice made you jump.

“Jesus!”

JJ laughed. “I know I’m awesome, but it’s just me.” He leaned on the counter next to you, crossing his arms on his chest as he gave you a mischievous smile.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

His blue eyes slowly slid all over your body, down to your bare legs. He clenched his jaw and you found yourself thinking that maybe, after all, wearing a skirt hadn’t been that terrible. The intensity of his stare pushed you to look away from him, so you took a sip of your drink while trying to slow down your heart rate.

“Are you having fun?” His voice was low and deep, almost as deep as the stare he was giving you.

“I just got here”, you shrugged.

He slowly nodded, looking away for a couple of seconds before turning again towards you. “You were with Rafe.”

He noticed? If it wasn’t for his tone — which made you groan — you’d have felt flattered by the fact that he had noticed. “Let’s not go there again, JJ. He’s my friend.”

“Your friend”, he repeated.

What was his problem?

“Yes”, you articulated.

You exhaled sharply and looked away. You were trying so hard not to get mad at him because of his attitude that you didn’t even notice he’d moved.

JJ was now standing right in front of you. His body was just a few inches away from yours and you fought against your first instinct to back up.

His blue eyes scanned your face, but not in a judgmental way. Maybe it was the first time that JJ really saw you. “You look good tonight, Kitten.”

“Stop calling me that”, you said instead of thanking him. His compliment made you blush.

His lips curved into a grin — it was so typical of him that you were starting to hate it. “You see”, he started. “You said something a few days ago.”

“Hm?” Your brows were raised in a confused look.

“I remember your orange beanie.”

Wait, what?

“What?”

His grin grew even wider at your confusion. “You loved it so much that the teacher had to tell your mother. You just wouldn't take it off. You’ve always been headstrong.”

It was true. When you were eight-ish, you owned an orange beanie. It was a gift from your aunt, and you grew so fond of it that you wouldn’t take it off. Not even in class. The teacher scolded you so many times — which, for an eight-year-old like you was the end of the world — that she even had to bring in your parents.

JJ remembered.

The last time you saw him you told him that he never noticed you existed, but he did.

He took another step towards you. “And when you were twelve, you fell off a tree. You told your mom that you were trying to grab a balloon or something, but I saw you. I was working in a house nearby and I know you were trying to save a kitten.”

You remained silent because you were literally speechless.

He took another step forward. You were so close to him that you could feel the warmth of his body. That’s when the people surrounding you started to blur, becoming meaningless to you. There was just him.

The intensity of his blue eyes stopped you from moving. You froze still as he gently cupped your cheek, sending chills down your spine. What the hell was going on?

“And I sure remember the look in your eyes at homecoming. I stayed late that night to give a hand cleaning up and make some money. You came with Topper, but you left alone. At some point he stood you up for Sarah. Even though he'd just he'd just bailed on you, when you asked Kelce a ride home you made up some lame excuse to cover him. And I kept asking myself why the hell you were always so nice to everyone.” His voice was nothing but a whisper. Both his hands were now placed on the counter, trapping you between his arms.

“JJ—”, you started but you weren't even sure what to say.

He'd noticed everything. He'd noticed you.

Instead of replying with words, you leaned towards him. You were now so close that your lips brushed his. It was a gentle touch, almost shy. Closing your eyes, you stood on your tips while placing your hands on his chest. You could feel his muscles from under the grey shirt he was wearing, and your skin burned where his hand was placed, right on your hip.

Just when your mind was starting to go wild and JJ was starting to deepen the kiss — after being taken aback by your initiative —, you were interrupted by a voice calling his name.

Really? Oh c’mon. JJ groaned and closed his eyes for a couple of seconds before turning towards the door.

“JJ?” Kie was standing right out of the bungalow, her brows narrowed in a worried look.

He took a step back from you and turned towards her, slowly letting you go. You already missed the warmth of his hand against your skin. But Kie being there, interrupting like that, could only mean one thing.

Her gaze fell on you for a couple of seconds, looking at you with nothing but disdain, before looking back at the blonde in front of you. “It’s John B. John B and Rafe.”

That's all she said, but you knew that it meant trouble.

The two of you started to move at the same moment, both drawn to where Kie was heading to. Rafe was in trouble and you knew JJ was as worried as you for his friend.

Why things had to be so difficult between them?

“What’s going on?”, you asked loud enough for Sarah to hear.

The worry in her face made you nervous, but your attention quickly shifted to where Rafe and John B were having a row. Topper was now pulling Rafe back, trying to get him off John B.

You shouted his name, but you knew he wouldn't hear you. The atmosphere was becoming loud and messy, and you were worried sick about your friend.

“Rafe, stop!”

As soon as Topper managed to pull him away, you placed yourself between the two of them. “C’mon man”, Topper kept murmuring as he pushed him away from the Pogues.

But Rafe was fuming. He had a split lip, and he was short of breath. A small crowd had gathered around the fight. People were moving around you, but all you could think of was trying to calm Rafe down. Hoping it'd help somehow, you placed a hand on his chest and murmured his name.

"You stay the hell away!”, he shouted at John B, who was now trying to stand up. Held by JJ on one side and Pope on the other, he did nothing but throw daggers at Rafe. He didn’t even reply. His bruises didn’t seem serious though, which was relief.

Your eyes fell to JJ for a couple of seconds, following his movements as he murmured something to John B, but you quickly looked away.

“Rafe, please.” Maybe because of your quiet tone, maybe because of the worry in it, he finally looked down at you. “That’s enough.”

And those words meant more than it looked like. No matter how hard you tried not to mind the distinction between the two factions in the island – the idea wouldn’t leave Rafe’s mind. The same Rafe that was now looking at you with nothing but anger, disappointment and regret in his blue eyes.

“C’mon, let’s go.” Topper interrupted your staring contest. He patted on his shoulder and nodded towards the parking lots.

As the two of them started to make their way through the crowd, you turned towards JJ.

He was standing right in front of John B, murmuring something while looking at him straight in the eye. The hat he was wearing was long forgotten in the sand and the sea breeze pushed his blonde locks on his face. He didn’t seem to care, though.

Pope noticed you first. A nod was all he gave you before elbowing JJ. When he turned towards you, the look on his face was a lot different than the one you were getting used to. He was angry – jaw clenched, lips pressed and all. He had every right to be.

“What?” The sharpness of his tone almost made you step back.

You cleared your voice before asking, alluding to John B “Is he okay?”

He didn’t even look at him. Hell, he wasn’t even looking at you. The JJ standing right in front of you wasn’t the one you knew. And you didn’t like this new version of him.

“He’s fine.” That’s all he said.

His gaze was now fixed in the sea – he was looking at the waves violently hitting the bank without really seeing them.

You felt Kie’s eyes on you, as well as Pope’s. They were following your conversation with curiosity, trying to understand what the hell was going on between the two of you. After all they weren’t used to see JJ having a full conversation with a Kook. You kinda felt in the spotlight and you hated it.

“Is there something I can do?”, you asked as you tried to keep your voice down. Your words were meant to him and him only.

That’s when JJ finally looked at you, his blue eyes fixed on yours. He clenched his jaw once again and then said “Leave.”

The reaction to those words was immediate – you took a step back, almost as if he’d hurt you physically. And you hated the way your voice sounded squeaky when you asked “What?”

There were lots of emotions going through his eyes, but for the first time ever since you’d known him, you had no idea what the hell was JJ thinking.

“Just leave, Y/N.” He sighed and swore under his breath, lowering his gaze. Why was he acting like that?

As he started to turn his back to you, leaving you there on the spot, you asked “But I’ll see you on Monday, right?”

He shook his head even before turning again towards you. “This was a mistake.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” At this point you didn’t even care about the people surrounding you. Most of them had returned to mind their own business, but not the Pogues.

“If you really wanna do something about it, keep your fuckin’ pet away from me – away from us.” Even though he had every right to be pissed at Rafe, you didn’t like his tone nor the way he was referring to him. “He’s nothing but trouble and so are you. He’s got you wrapped around his finger and you’re so naïve that you don’t even notice it!”

“What the hell are you –”, you tried to intervene, but he immediately cut you off.

“I don’t need your help. No, I don’t want your help. You’re a Kook, Y/N – God, I’m not that desperate.”

You didn’t even try to reply to that. He didn’t deserve another minute of your attention, nor the things that you were starting to feel for him. So you took another step back, physically unable to look away from him eyes. How could he be so mean?

JJ knew he had fuck up. He regretted those words the moment they left his mouth. Damn, he regretted hurting you. The look on your face said it all, and he hated himself for it. After all, you had nothing to do with Rafe’s behavior. He was an asshole – a real asshole – and you were too good for him.

And JJ knew sure as hell that you were too good for him, too.

You almost sighed in relief when you heard Kelce’s voice asking you “Y/N, you coming?” He was waiting just a few feet away from you.

JJ tried to take a step towards you, but his legs wouldn’t move. He had screwed it up and he knew it.

When you felt tears watering your eyes, you bit your lower lip till you felt a metallic taste in your mouth. You had no intention of crying in front of him – or his friends, for what matters.

The last look you gave him was full of hurt, regret and disappointment and you found yourself hoping that JJ would remember that look for the rest of his life.

You finally turned your back to him, approaching Kelce with a terrible burden on your heart. There had been moments when you really thought that the stupid distinction between the two factions wouldn’t matter to him. That the distinction between the Cut and Figure Eight wouldn’t influence your friendships.

But you were terribly wrong.

—

The first thing you did on Monday, was changing your schedule for the afterschool program. In that way, not only you weren’t assigned to JJ, but you wouldn’t even see him around during the afternoon. The plan was of avoiding him as much as you could. Well, that wasn’t much of a problem, considered that he despised you and everything.

The week went by kinda smoothly – no JJ in sight, no troubles, no Rafe. You were trying to blow off some stream, and that plan included avoiding both. Even when Sarah called you or stopped by, she cautiously avoided those subjects.

JJ had tried to reach you once. He’d stopped by your house and found your sister, instead. He never showed up again.

Rafe was a whole another story. He hadn’t stopped calling you or texting you since that night at the kegger. Even though you were still pissed at him, you couldn’t help but forgive him. Kinda. As you already said, you were a Florence Nightingale. That huge part of you just couldn’t let go the idea of talking some sense to him.

—

The next Friday Sarah had a terrible, terrible idea.

The Pogues were planning to spend the whole day in the HMS Pogue – a hurricane was expected the following week and they wanted to enjoy those last quiet days. So of course, when Sarah asked you to come along, your answer had been a firm no.

The reason was obvious. JJ would’ve been there, and you were more than determined to avoid him all costs.

“It could be fun! Y’know, you could even try to swim this time.”

“I definitely won’t”, you articulated, not being able to repress a chuckle at her hopeful expression.

When she joined her hands in front of her face and leaned towards you, looking at you with her giant dark brown eyes, you slightly shook your head. “Not gonna happen.”

“Please?”, she whispered.

You gave her a quick look from under your lashes, bringing a scoop of ice cream to your lips. Trying to stall, you made sure to finish the entire spoon before shrugging. “Will you keep him away from me?

“Of course!” Her excitement was so contagious that you couldn’t help but laugh.

‘Not gonna happen’, huh?

Later that day, when you were waiting for the rest of the group to come, you were already starting to regret to regret your decision.

“Stop being so nervous”, Sarah murmured, giving you a look with the corner of her eyes.

You narrowed your brows. “I’m not.”

“Your leg is bouncing”, she pointed out and you eye rolled.

Before you could think of a comeback, Kie’s voice was barely audible above the boat noise. “Well, if you hadn’t stopped to buy all those snacks, we wouldn’t have been late!”

“Technically, we’re not late. You’re only used to be early”, Pope then her an amused look, throwing a Cheeto to his mouth.

They were both standing at the front of her boat, the girl’s hand raised to cover her eyes from the sun.

Behind them, maneuvering the boat, there were both JJ and John B. The latter quickly started to disappear to you as you focused on the blonde — he wasn’t wearing a shirt, which was nothing new to you, and his blonde locks were pulled back by a blue bandana. You were mesmerized by that sight — so much that you were almost drooling.

Sarah elbowed you and you cleared your voice, strengthening the grip on your bag as you looked away from him. After all, you still hadn’t forgiven and forgotten all the mean things that he had told you.

JJ saw you even before you could notice him standing next to John B. No one had told him that you’d have come along, but he now wished someone had. He was totally taken aback, mesmerized by your sight. The way the sun was making your hair shine or the way you’d wiggle your nose when talking to Sarah — that shit was driving him crazy.

“You okay?”, Sarah asked to make sure. Carefully avoiding looking at him, you nodded and gave her a fake smile.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

When the boat was close enough for you to hop in, John B didn’t waste any time and quickly approached Sarah. He was firmly holding her hand and said “Come on up.” You felt the urge to look away, almost as if you were witnessing something of extremely private.

When it was your turn to get on the boat, you handed your bag to Pope, who’d kindly offered to help you. Right before you could place your foot on the top of the boat, JJ hurried to get next to you. He offered you a hand and you looked at it, dumbfounded, for a couple of seconds.

Then you pushed it away and murmured “I can make it.”

And you did — even at the cost of breaking your own neck. You got on the boat with a little jump, and you gave Pope a little smile of victory, completely ignoring the blonde standing behind you.

You didn’t even had the courage to look at him in the eyes.

Just when you were about to get away from him and approach Sarah, JJ said “Y/N.”

Your body tensed up and you froze still.

“Y/N, please”. Your eyes shut once again at the sound of his pleading voice.

“Leave me alone, JJ.” And, surprisingly, for the next hour he did.

Contrary to what you thought at first, you were having a good time. Despite the fact that Kie was still throwing daggers at you, trying to read and understand you, the rest of the group was being extremely friendly and funny.

JJ had even stopped trying to talk to you, which was a relief. What he hadn’t stop doing, however, was throwing you looks with the corner of his eyes. He was always looking at you, especially when he thought you weren’t looking.

That until Pope proposed “You guys in for a swim?”

“Hell yeah”, Kie immediately stood up. “This sun is literally killing me.”

It didn’t take long for the rest of the crew to join them and, after some chats and laughter here and there, everyone jumped in the water. Everyone except JJ.

Before joining them John B turned to you and asked, “You coming?”

“Nah, I think I’ll pass”, you replied, giving him a smile. And with that he disappeared, joining his friends in the water.

JJ was sitting not far away from you, his legs dangling out of the boat. There was a weird silence between the two of you, and the tension was almost touchable. You hated that situation.

“Why didn’t you go swimming?”, he suddenly asked you, turning his head towards you.

There was no way you could get out of this, so you’d better have it done with it. When you slowly turned towards him, facing him, your heart skipped a beat. His eyes were a lot different than the last time you saw him and the hurt in them almost made you break.

“Why didn’t you?”, you retorted and he ironically snorted. Then you closed your eyes, trying to calm your nerves. You turned completely towards him, crossing your legs while doing so. “I don’t know how to swim”, you explained in a low voice.

Why the hell were you justifying yourself with him?

He seemed genuinely surprised. His brows narrowed and he placed the beer he was drinking right next to him. “What? You never tried or—”

“No, I’m — I have thalassophobia.”

His brows narrowed even further. “Not following you.”

“It means that I’m scared of open water” you patiently explained, and he remained quiet.

Until he got up and walked towards you, sitting right in front of you.

“What— what are you doing?” You weren’t sure you were able to control your emotions around him. After all, being around him was enough, considered what he’d told you.

“Y/N”, he started, taking a deep breath and lowering his gaze for a couple of seconds before looking back at you. “I’m sorry. I said a lot of things that night and I regret every word I said.”

JJ was apologizing, but that didn’t mean that you weren’t still hurt by the way he treated you.

He frowned when he noticed that you had no intention to reply. “You heard me?”

The guys were shouting and laughing while splashing each other, so you quickly looked away from them and met JJ’s eyes.

“I did”, you immediately said, quickly nodding at his question. “I also heard you when you said you weren’t that desperate to accept a Kook’s help. My help.”

He sighed deeply and shook his head, lot of emotions going through his eyes “A lot of things happened that night. And Rafe’s always in my way, always trying to mess with me, and that night was just the tip of the iceberg.”

The sea breeze pushed some locks of your hair right in front of your face, so when JJ raised a hand to pull them behind your ear, you didn’t move a muscle to stop him.

“This isn’t even about Rafe anymore, JJ. This is about you not accepting the fact that I’m a Kook!” Once again, as it usually happened in his presence, you temper was showing up.

“It isn’t about Rafe, huh?”, he snapped back. “So how come he’s always in the way when it comes to you?”

“Because he’s my friend! I know it’s hard to understand, I know it’s not easy for you, but I care about him. I know he can be mean; I know he’s an asshole most of the times, but I know him better, JJ.”

He scoffed, as if you were saying something that it was unthinkable for him. “Can’t fuckin’ believe it.”

“And if you can’t get over the fact that I’m his friend, that I’m a Kook, then we really shouldn’t see each other anymore. You were right.” You let out a defeated sight and you stood up, trying to walk away and ditch him there, when he immediately stood too. He gently grabbed your arm, meeting your eyes.

“Wait, Y/N. Listen, I don’t care, okay?” When did he get so close to you? You were so involved in your conversation that you hadn’t noticed how close his body was. “I said some mean shit that night, but I didn’t mean any of it. I don’t care if you’re from the Cut or from Figure Eight, Y/N. You could be from Narnia, for what matters, and I’d still like you.”

Wait what?

“You what?” The shock in your voice was evident.

It looked like JJ wanted to say something, so he parted his lips, but he immediately closed them back. Then he took a deep breath and slowly nodded. “Yes, I like you, Y/N. I like how you’re not afraid to step up and speak your mind. I like how kind you are, to everyone – no matter what. And sure as hell I like the way you make me want to be a better person.”

The burden you felt in your heart was slowly dissolving at his words — did he feel that way all this time?

He cupped your cheeks with his warm hands, and you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. To be completely honest, it scared you like hell the way you felt safe in his arms. When you leaned towards his hand, you reopened your eyes only to see him slightly smile.

“Good thing is, I don’t dislike you, either”, you teased him. He chuckled, slightly shaking his head, and once again you leaned towards him and placed your lips on his.

JJ didn’t waste any time. He placed one hand in the back of your neck in the  attempt of pulling you closer to him, as he kissed you back. He immediately deepened the kiss, kissing you as if he was afraid of losing you.

Both your hands slid between his blonde locks, and at that gentle touch a deep groan came up from his throat.

Just when you were starting to be short of breath, you heard a loud voice saying “It’s about fuckin’ time!”

When you — reluctantly — pulled away from him and looked towards your friends, John B had a huge smile on his face as he looked at the two of you. Sarah cupped her hand around her mouth and let out a little “Woo-hoo”, and even Kie seemed sort of relieved that you two finally sorted your problems out.

JJ didn’t let go of you, his arm was still surrounding your waist as he kept you close to him. He paid little attention to his friends, moving his lips to your cheek up till the spot under your ear. You closed your eyes, smiling at the sweetness of his kisses, as he murmured in your ear “I was really hoping to make you mine, Kitten.”

—

“Je.”

JJ raised his brows. “Je.”

“M’appelle”, you articulated.

The blonde sitting in front of you looked down at the book. “M’appelle”, he repeated.

“JJ.”

He looked up to meet your eyes. “That’s easy. JJ.”

“Now repeat it.” You bit your lip as you tried to repress a little laugh.

JJ leaned towards you, placing both his elbows on the desk as he brought his face closer to yours. “You’re kinda hot when you’re bossy.”

“JJ”, you said in a warning tone.

“Y’know”, he started, and the grin on his face didn’t promise nothing good. “It could be useful. You could talk dirty to me in French.”

You kicked him from under the table, giving a quick look in the room around you to make sure that no one heard. “Stop it”, you hissed, making him chuckle.

“You’re blushing.”

“I should never have accepted tutoring you.” Of course you were lying.

And JJ knew it. “Liar.”

“J, will you focus? Please?”

“Can I have a kiss every time I get it right?”

“Shut up and pay attention to me.” Tutoring JJ turned out to be harder than expected. Especially when he took every chance he had to make you blush or tease you.

JJ cleared his voice and faked a salute “Yes ma’am.”

Oh man, this was gonna be a long, long semester.

[zims-left-shoe]

I'd about this stuff but zim x reader where reader has to introduce zim to family and its awkward and fluffy?!?! Did I do that correctly??

AAAA yes!! This prompt actually works perfectly. Ily bby!! I really need to get back on Insta and Snap so we can talk more lmao.

Romance. What even is it? You could never say for sure, and yet you had been playing the courtship expert for about a month or so. What else were you supposed to do? Not only would he not take no for an answer, it was a fine way to kill your boredom. He had zero expectations, which was what made it great. You could tell him anything and he would believe it. Boyfriends were supposed to do their s/o's homework for them? He never questioned it once. To be completely honest, he was the only reason you were passing chemistry and calculus. 

That being said, at the end of the day, it was all one big game. Wasn't it? All he had asked of you was to be his 'lovepig' in a romantic experiment he was conducting. You had nothing else better to do, and hell, it wasn't like you needed to be keeping your options open. You were just as unpopular as the alien freak himself. So, why not? Wasn't it just some mutualistic dynamic? You both benefited from it. He got 'data' (the accuracy of it questionable) for his Earth infiltration, and you got to have some fun. Plus, there was the fact that you haven't touched a homework assignment in weeks.

These were all things you had told yourself. You had managed to explain away all the times you had defended him from Dib and your classmates as being all part of the experiment. If there was a deeper reason, like real feelings perhaps, you didn't want to consider it too much. This relationship was intended to be one big joke after all. 

"Y/n? Hello?" A hand was waved in front of your face, ripping you from your thoughts and reflections. 

"Huh? Did you say something?" You tore your gaze from the plate of uneaten food that sat before you, eyes dragging up to meet those of your father. The man next to him groaned; your other father. You loved them both, but they were both staring at you with slightly annoyed frustration. They particularly disliked when you would space out while they were talking to you, which apparently they had been.

"Yes, I did. I said, when do we get to meet the boyfriend?" The one you called Father spoke; he was your biological sire, and the one you tended to get annoyed with the most. Genetics, you supposed. You were too much alike, and thus you butted heads often.

"Zim? I dunno." Shrugging, you picked at the dinner on your plate with your fork. It was a response that you hoped would suffice, despite knowing full well you had no intentions of ever introducing the Irken soldier for obvious reasons. Having lived with you for so long, they both knew what your response meant. At first, you assumed they'd only sigh and move on, but that wouldn't be the case. 

"We really want to meet him. We've given it a month, but I think it's time that we finally see him." Your father spoke again, voice firmer than the last time.

"I know you said he's...er, unique, but we promise we won't think anything of it. So long as he's good to you, it doesn't matter." The one you called Dad chimed in, a kind smile on his face. You knew he wasn't just saying that, and that he meant it. He was probably the nicest person you had ever met, and you were thankful to have him in your life.

That being said, you couldn't help but scoff at what was said, particularly the last line. Good to you? Zim was probably the most selfish person you had ever met in your life. Still, he did provide you with a source of entertainment. And if you worded things the right way, he would do anything you wanted him to. He was surprisingly easy to manipulate. 

"What's so funny?" 

"Nothing, Dad. But, no. I don't think you'll be meeting him." You expected that to be the end of it, bringing a forkful of dinner to your lips. 

"Y/n M/n L/n, you will bring your boyfriend home within the next week or else you won't be seeing him ever again." Eyes widening in surprise, your fork clattered against your plate as it slipped through your fingers. You would never have predicted your father to become so agitated over this. On some level, you supposed he was just looking out for you, wanting to make sure that Zim was a decent guy and all that. But at the same time, it was annoying. Did he not trust you to handle yourself? Plus, you were almost certain they wouldn't be satisfied upon actually meeting Zim. 

You remained silent. What you should have done was once again shrug your shoulders and say, 'fine'. Your relationship wasn't even supposed to be real, just some experiment that didn't matter too much to either of you. So why should you care if they forced you to break up because you wouldn't bring him home? And yet...you found yourself devastated at the mere thought of that. Was it because you enjoyed the absence of boredom? That had to be it. It couldn't possibly be because you had developed feelings for the little roach...no way. 

"You either bring him home for dinner Friday night, or-" Your father pressed, and you slammed your palm on the table before he could continue.

"Fine, okay!" Glaring at your food, you were no longer hungry. You just wanted dinner to be over. "May I be excused?" You asked, voice still seething with attitude. They both waved you off, so you took your plate and covered it, putting it in the fridge for later. Storming off to your room, you supposed you shared more similarities with your 'boyfriend' than you'd like to admit. You both had quick tempers for one thing, but you both liked being in control for another. You were about to get a rude awakening soon enough; you weren't keeping your feelings and relationships in check as much as you thought.

(more under the cut)

-

There were several ways your peers, if asked, would describe you. Nice, however, was not particularly one of them. It wasn't that you weren't a good person deep down. You just preferred to make yourself your number one priority, even if it turned you into a little bit of a bitch in the process. It was much easier than taking the risk of offering yourself up to others. After all, who really wants to deal with untangling the mess of emotions? Ignoring everything was the safest thing to do. Considering that, it wasn't surprising that you and Zim had been drawn together. They say opposites attract, but you found it to work almost the same for those who are similar. 

After all, Zim was also a big supporter of suppressing all emotions, so much so that you were sure he forgot he even had any. And maybe he didn't. You didn't think it was possible, considering he was still pretty much a person, but at the same time, you never asked about Irken psychology.

Not only that, but Zim seemed to care only for himself at all times. Even in the times he would do anything that vaguely resembled an act of love, it still had everything to do with his own personal motivations of gaining human courtship data. 

With all of that on the table, plus the fact that you weren't really sure what the status of your relationship even was, you weren't expecting you would be bringing him home for dinner Friday. What you envisioned happening was for him to call this whole thing off once you gave him the ultimatum, claiming that he had enough research so you would be through.

And again, there was that small wave of anxiety that passed over you. For whatever reason, you didn't want to lose whatever it was the two of you had going on. You had grown used to having someone to talk to everyday, even if the majority of conversation was listening to him drone on about his evil plans to conquer the Earth in the name of the Irken empire. Frowning, you glanced down to whatever toxic food substance was sitting on your tray. 

The surrounding cafeteria was filled with the chatter of your classmates, all rambling about mostly unimportant things. You had your popular kids laughing and running their own psychoanalysis on Dib, who in turn ignored them from across the room while his sister played video games by his side. You also had your social outcasts, sitting by themselves and discussing whatever they liked to talk about; well, Gretchen wasn't exactly talking. She chose to occupy her time by staring at Dib, who in turn ignored her too. Same shit as always. 

The din of irrelevant voices and clattering plates barely did anything to mask the forceful footsteps approaching your table, ones that could only be brought about by a soldier's march. Whether it was because you had grown so used to the sound or you were so wrapped up in your mind, the noise didn't register with you until a tray was harshly dropped onto the table.

"Why do you look like that?" The alien now sitting across from you asked, with a hint of something that at first you thought was distaste, but later recognized to be Zim's version of concern. Which was strange in itself, concern for others was always an afterthought for him, sometimes not even a thought at all.

"Like what?"

"All shmoopy." You narrowed your eyes, about to give a remark of denial, but whatever words died in your throat as you instinctively straightened up from your slouch, lips straightening from downturned into a neutral expression.

Breathing out a sigh, you decided to just get straight to the point before he would go off on a tangent about whatever thing Dib said in class that offended him. "Look, Zim. You need to come over for dinner Friday night, or else our relationship, experiment, whatever the hell it is, is over." Zim opened his mouth to say something, but you continued on before he could get even a single syllable out. "I know you don't want to, and believe me, you embarrassing yourself in front of my family is the last thing I want, but my parents are demanding to meet you. And if they don't, they're forbidding me from seeing you again or whatever." 

The Irken stayed quiet for a moment, thinking this over. To you, you guessed that his silence was him formulating some great break up speech in his head, so you braced for it. Why you even cared was beyond you, but it was still not what you wanted. "First of all, Zim will not embarrass himself!" You fixed him with a disbelieving look. There was no chance in any of the infinite parallel universes that he would not make a complete fool of himself. "But FINE! Zim will conquer this...interrogation."

Rolling your eyes, you attempted to fight the grin tugging at your lips. "It's not an interrogation, roach boy."

He disregarded your comment, clearly no longer listening. Instead, he hopped up onto the table, heeled soldier boots striking the tabletop, the sound echoing off the cafeteria walls. "Zim will be the best love-mate your parental units have ever laid eyes on!!" He yelled, throwing his fists in the air. Shrinking into yourself, you covered your face with your arms, face burning from the heads that were all turning in your direction to stare.

"Please don't say it like that." After a moment, Zim climbed back down and into his seat on the bench. Your classmates quickly lost interest, as these outbursts were commonplace. Eventually, you came out of your self cocoon to lay some very specific instructions on him. "Okay, cool. I need you to listen very carefully."

"Eh?" He snapped his attention back to you. Groaning, you reached across the tabled to grab his hand, your go to move to make sure he listened to you.

"Come over Friday at six. The whole time, just smile and nod. Don't say anything more than necessary. Just get by with the bare minimum, and then go home. Do you understand?" You looked to him with an intense look in your eyes. You knew that if you were not explicitly clear, the night could end in disaster. House-exploding, alien death battle kind of disaster. 

"Of course I do! Don't worry your stinky head, Zim has it under control." He dropped your hand, waving you off, overconfident as always. 

"Alright...I'm trusting you." You didn't trust him in the slightest. But there was really nothing you would be capable of doing. You had instructed him, very specifically you might add, and that was all you could do. And hope. You would be hoping too. With one last relenting sigh, you had no time to process the relief that came with the surprise of not being broken up with. Whatever relaxation you had briefly felt was immediately replaced by dread for Friday.

-

You laid sprawled on the couch, staring at the ceiling and drumming your fingers on your stomach. You really hoped that Zim would take your advice and behave himself over the course of the next few hours, but in the back of your mind, you knew that to be impossible. The house had been quiet, save for the clanging of pots and pans in the kitchen as your dad worked on dinner. Meanwhile, your father was just finishing tidying up the house, despite you telling him that it didn't matter. You told him that Zim wouldn't care, but the real reason it didn't matter is it probably would end up in worse shape regardless. His response had been to ignore you as he continued to wipe down surfaces you forgot existed. 

Right at six o'clock on the dot, your doorbell rang. You bolted up right, scrambling to reach the door faster than your father. Unfortunately, you weren't quite quick enough to match his long-legged stride, and he threw open the door just as you had the doorway within your sights. You had to skid to a halt in order to stop yourself from slamming into your father's back. 

"You must be Zim." Your father's voice was firm, but not threatening. At least not yet. You peered around him to get a good look at Zim, who, to your relief, was smiling and nodding. You stifled the laugh that was brought on at the sight of a simple black bow tie that was tied very incorrectly around his neck. It was a strange sight, considering it didn't quite fit with the standard invader uniform he always adorned. 

Your father stepped aside to let him in, sticking his hand out afterwards, prompting the Irken to shake it. Zim gazed at it quizzically, apparently not understanding what to do. Just as you were about to bestow a helpful hint, his face brightened as he kicked his leg up, resting his foot in your father's hand. He still seemed to be processing the motivations behind Zim's actions, but before he could respond, you grabbed ahold of Zim's leg, yanking it back onto the ground. The invader stumbled, and before he could fall, you threw an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in close and poking his cheek.

"Oh, Zim, what a jokester! Anyway, we'll be off now, call when dinner's ready-" You tried to drag your alien counterpart away before he could do anything else stupid, but unfortunately, your father had other plans.

"No, I don't think so." Although his voice was less than pleased, you knew he was just trying to put up an intimidating front. He wanted to scare Zim at least a little bit. Groaning, you turned around. "So, you think this whole thing is one big joke, huh?"

"Father, please-" You rolled your eyes, knowing that Zim was too dense to actually be pressured by your father's act. 

"You do drugs? Ever been suspended?"

"I thought you said this wasn't an interrogation." Zim muttered to you, and although it was intended to only be heard by you, Zim is physically incapable of speaking under his breath, and thus your father heard it too. You thought he was more fazed by Zim being unaffected by his grill attempts than what was actually said. 

"What's with the...you know?" Your father decided to ignore Zim's comment and go right for the green elephant in the room: Zim's appearance. In all honesty, it was a rude question. But, Zim was used to it by now.

"We talked about this! It's a skin condition!" You sighed in exasperation, just wanting to get through this night with your sanity intact. "Also, you can't just ask people that." There was an awkward pause between everybody, and you almost wished Zim would start screaming about something not even relevant.

Luckily, you didn't have to stew in silence for much longer. "Dinner's ready, come get it or don't!" Your dad called from the table. You gestured for Zim to follow you as you shuffled after your father, whose strides were quick and long, making it hard to keep up at a normal pace. Both parents had sat down, you following suit across from them. Zim, however, stayed standing, eyes fixated on the plate and glass of water resting on the table in front of the chair next to you. You hoped he was sensible enough to just ignore the food and sit there politely. 

"You can sit down, you know." Your father eyed Zim skeptically. The invitation to take a seat seemed to snap Zim out of his trance, as he sat down so fast he bumped the table, making the silverware shake. He finally appeared to take notice of your parents, and pointed a clawed finger across the table.

"It's like my Tallest!" His grin was wide, and his contacts portrayed his excitement. Your parents, on the other hand, looked to be beyond confused. You didn't exactly blame Zim for the association, considering both were tall males, and his comment made you notice that they were coincidentally wearing hues of red and purple. "I didn't know you had your own Tallest." 

"Who?" Your dad asked, eyes flicking between you and your uninformed alien boyfriend. You gave Zim a swift swat to his thigh under the table, intending to convey the message of 'what happened to smiling and nodding?'. He seemed to understand your intention, and answered your dad's question by cracking a smile and nodding furiously. Internally, you were smacking yourself in the face as both parents stared at you as if they were wondering whether or not Zim was higher than a fucking kite. The dinner so far was going fantastic. At least he hadn't caused any physical damage yet.

Your father cleared his throat, deciding to move on. "So, Zim...what are your plans after high school?" Thank god, a subject change. That being said, your relief only lasted about a half a second before you realized he didn't have any answers to this type of question, and he was horrible at bullshitting. 

"Um...oh, you know...stuff." Zim took a fork and began to experimentally stab at the food that was on his plate. "Sciency stuff." He tacked on those words, sensing your father not being satisfied with his original answer.

"Like what, doing an internship at Membrane Labs or something?" Your father continued to ask questions, but at this point you were helpless to stop him. Zim was on his own. 

"Yes!" Your father seemed to not believe Zim's confirmation, so you decided to help him out.

"Yeah, he's actually really good friends with Dib. You know, the Professor's son." You offered, albeit a stretch of the truth. The two knew each other very well, and, well, enemies after enough time are basically friends anyway. 

"Yes...the Dib-worm is my best friend." Zim spoke through gritted teeth, and you prayed that your parents wouldn't pick up on the venom seeping into every syllable. 

"You have any siblings?" Your dad asked, gaze less critical than the man next to him.

"No." His answer was short, almost as if he was attempting to speedrun the questions to get this dinner over with faster. Unfortunately, your parents would only fill it with more questions. Any attempt to stop them would be futile. 

"Where are you from exactly?" 

"Somewhere that isn't here. Eh, uh, er...it's very far. You wouldn't know it." Your father raised an eyebrow, growing tired of Zim's evasive and nonspecific responses. In a shocking turn of events, Zim was actually able to read the room for once in his life, picking up on your parents' distrust. "Wow, is this good food or what?" Before you could squeak out a single sound, Zim began to shovel the food on his plate into his mouth as fast as he could, washing it down by chugging the glass of water.

This of course sent you into a panic. You reached out an arm, to do what you weren't sure, but you never made contact. Instead, your hand hovered in the air as you gawked at Zim in bewilderment. He wasn't smoking, flailing, or screaming. In fact, he was taking it quite well. Everything seemed to be okay, and even he seemed to be surprised. His face relaxed into a smile when he realized that nothing was trying to kill him from the inside. Which, if that was what he had expected, you weren't quite sure what his plan had been in the first place, but you knew better than to question him. Questioning Zim only led to long rants that no one had the energy or the willpower to listen to. 

"Thank you-" Your dad's gratitude was cut off by Zim's ear piercing shriek as he dropped to the ground, knocking aside his chair in the process. He thrashed about like a fish out of water as he clawed desperately at his throat and face. Apparently, the delayed reaction had kicked in. His ear-piercing screeches were chopped up by choking and spluttering as he continued to kick and flounder his limbs around wildly. Looking up from the Irken rolling around on the ground to your parents, you noticed that they looked absolutely petrified. 

"He's fine! He'll be fine!" You waved your hands desperately, despite knowing full well they would never believe you. As if to accentuate the incorrectness of your statement, Zim howled out another cry of pain, the sound twisting your face into a cringe. At once, your parents clambered out of their seats, stumbling over each other to get to your side of the table. Your dad kneeled down next to Zim and tried to help him, completely at a loss for what was going on. Meanwhile, your father grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you off around the corner to the kitchen.

As you're being hauled away, you hear a distant "Should I call 911?" from your dad. 

As soon as you were out of ear shot of your suffering boyfriend, your father whisper yelled at you. "What the hell is wrong with him?!"

Again, you felt the need to defend him. It wasn't his fault that his alien biology couldn't handle Earth food, and that he didn't understand Earth culture too well. Okay, maybe that last one was his fault considering he's been on the planet for about four years and blending in was kind of his job. But still! "Look, I promise he's a decent guy once you get to know him."

"He's strange, Y/n! Not in the good way, in a concerning way." He hissed to you, never dropping eye contact. 

"He's just a little different is all!"

"A little different?! He's dying in our dining room!" Suppressing the urge to say, 'you mean our die-ning room?', you took a deep breath, preparing to explain away the probably traumatizing situation your parents were witnessing.

"He has a biological condition that makes it to where he can't a majority of foods." You thought that maybe that statement would calm him down, but it only seemed to worry him more.

"Jesus, Y/n, you couldn't have told us about the dietary restrictions before you brought him over? We almost just killed him!" Running a hand through his hair, he watched as you cast your eyes toward the ground, wringing your hands together. You knew he was right. It was something you should have thought of saying beforehand, you should have just told Zim to bring some Irken food along. But you had expected him to not even think about touching the food. And yet, you had just watched as he scarfed down almost the entire plate and a whole glass of water. 

"Sorry! But...would you please just give him another chance?" You pleaded, voice sweeter than you had ever sounded in your life. 

With a heavy sigh, your father nodded, waving you in the direction of the dining room. "Fine, if he doesn't need to go to the hospital, he can stay for the movie if he wants to. Just go hang out upstairs while we clean up" Your smile displayed your thanks as you made your way back to the scene of the accident. Things seemed to be alright now. If anything, your dad was more shaken up than Zim was. The Irken was standing again, pretending as if nothing happened.

"C'mon." You said nothing more as you took him by the hand, pulling him towards your room. He didn't protest, glad to be away from your dad who had been continuing to fuss over him. As you shut the door to your room behind you, the solace that came with knowing he was okay completely drained from your body. "What the hell was that?!" You smacked him lightly on the arm. He should know better than to consume food that would cause his insides to sizzle and smoke. Apparently, he seemed to still think that had been an ingenious idea.

"Zim was trying to show them that I am a good candidate for your love partner!" Your eyes widened, astonished on multiple levels. He really was a special kind of clueless, wasn't he?

"That was not the way! And why do you even care? I thought this was just some stupid experiment? Why should you care if this whole thing ends, you can just find someone else!" Throwing your hands up, your voice raised in volume, fire licking every word.

"Because Zim doesn't want someone else! Zim wants you, Stinky...Stink-worm." His voice had matched yours in loudness at first, but near the end of his words he grew quieter, arms crossed tightly against his chest, eyes averted in curt sheepishness. If Irkens could blush, you were sure he would be.

Any follow up argument you possessed had fled your brain, the only thing replacing it being the slight heat that flushed your cheeks. "Zim...are you saying that you actually...like me?" You were surprised, but pleasantly so. Now that you had to force yourself to think on it, you had realized that somewhere along the way, you began to like the roach boy more than you care to admit. It was a bit irritating to dwell on, considering this whole arrangement was, in the end, supposed to be no strings attached. He got his data, you had something to fill your time. Life has a funny way of panning things out, regardless of your intentions. 

"Zim is saying nothing!" His eyes were shut tight, a sign you could interpret as confirmation to your question. Neither of you would admit it, nor ever wanted to. That was the unfortunate downside to both sides of the equation having destructively low EQs. 

Even if you wanted to press him more, you were interrupted by your parents calling you for the movie. Sighing, it seemed you would have to shelve this conversation for a later date, which was fine by you. Feelings were messy and complicated anyway. "Let's go, roach boy." Zim followed without complaint, and as soon as you both came into view, your parents hit play on the film, which you instantly recognized as E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, something you had seen a million times. It had been your movie of choice as a kid. "Topical." You murmured under your breath, directing Zim to the couch. 

Your parents seemed impressed to see Zim alive and well, acting as if he hadn't been borderline dying on the dining room floor less than twenty minutes ago. "We've seen this about a hundred times, we know how it ends. You two have fun." Your father smiled to the both of you. Apparently, he actually listened to you and was giving Zim the benefit of the doubt.

"But not too much fun." Your dad added helpfully, but of course the implications of his comment flew right over Zim's head. 

"Anyway, if we don't see you before you leave, it was nice to meet you, Zim. Sorry for almost killing you." Your father didn't wait for a response--which he most likely wouldn't have gotten anyway--before heading to bed with your dad, most likely to watch something of their own. Your parents flicked the lights off as they exited, leaving the room dark, save for the light being thrown from the TV, as well as a soft glow coming from Zim's PAK. You had never noticed that before, but it made sense, considering this was the first time you had seen him in the dark before.

"You might like this. It's about an alien who comes to Earth. Well, more like gets stranded on Earth." 

"Hmm." Zim peered at the screen with interest, but began to frantically rub at his eyes, blinking repeatedly. Before you could even ask if he was okay, he snapped a tired response. "Contacts are bothering Zim." 

"Just take 'em out." He attempted to fix you with a distrusting stare, but it was broken by another stint of scratching. "They won't be coming back out, at least not before you leave. You'll be fine." You sank into the couch cushions, the darkness and familiarity of a favorite movie easing you into a contented state.

"Fine. But Zim is blaming you if you're wrong, Stink-worm." With speed and skill, he peeled the lenses from his eyes, stowing them in his PAK, which didn't seem all that sanitary. He blinked a few more times, but seemed comfortable. You directed your attention to the TV screen, but it was snapped away again at the feeling of weight settling on your thigh. Looking down, you saw Zim's head casually laid on your leg, eyes fixated on the movie. "Say anything and I'm replacing your organs with space squids." Zim grumbled, still not looking at you. 

"That's not very nice." You snickered through your words. You knew his threat was empty, and you weren't exactly a stranger to outlandish warnings yourself.

The Irken groaned, still not moving. "Ugh, fine. Say anything, and I'll, eh, lick your face or something." You said nothing more, arm resting lazily on his side, hand hanging near his own. Out of his own volition, he intertwined his claws with your fingers, almost daring you to say something. You didn't.

As the movie progressed, you could tell Zim was a hundred percent into it. That being said, when it came time for the scenes of Elliot and E.T. dying and being treated by the government, you felt Zim grip you a little tighter. You were beginning to wonder if you should turn it off. You were only encouraged in that thought when you felt Zim's back tremble, and although you couldn't see his face, you believed him to be crying.

You reached out your free hand for the remote, but stopped at the sound of Zim's uncharacteristically shaky voice. "Do-don't." You drew back your free hand, the other hand being tucked closer into Zim's chest. A sigh slipped past your lips, and you lifted him up and set him on the ground while he swiped at his eyes so you could kick your legs up and across the couch, reaching out to grab him and lay him on top of you before he could even begin to protest about being moved.

"You okay?" You asked, expecting a fight about being placed in this position. 

To your amazement, he didn't squirm off of you at all, instead, saying a simple "Yes." He even cuddled into you, head resting on your chest as he watched the film. This was the calmest you had ever seen the normally high-energy alien. A hand began to absentmindedly stroke his back, the texture of the fabric of his uniform unlike any you had ever felt. At first you were at a loss for what the rumbling against your chest was, but after a moment you were able to place it. Purrs were rising from Zim's throat, and although it was reminiscent of a cat, it was still a sound that was distinctly alien. It was a noise you had never heard before.

"For the record, I like you. A lot." You murmured quietly, hoping he was too enthralled by the movie to register what was said. Regrettably for you, Zim only seemed to listen when you wished him not to.

"Zim also thinks you are quite tolerable...for an Earth-worm."

"Gee, thanks. I feel so special." Despite your words, there was still a smile in your voice. At this point, the movie was past it's tearjerker moments, and the kids were all trying to get E.T. back to the forest. "So, do Irkens have a thing like E.T., where they connect with someone?" The syncing of Elliot and E.T.'s biological functions, emotions, and thoughts was a main plot point in the movie, and it got you wondering if maybe there was some accuracy, if not with Irkens, perhaps with another alien race?

"Sort of." His answer was unfocused, still drawn into the end of the film. You guessed this would be his new favorite Earth movie, which meant he would most certainly be demanding for you two to watch it together at least twice a month. 

"What do you mean, ‘sort of’?"

"We mate for life." He paused while you were still processing his statement. "But I don't think that was the connection you were asking about."

"Oh brother." You mumbled, deciding to toss that information out the window. Good to know that you wouldn't be getting of the roach anytime soon...or ever. 

[meenah-chan]

Quintessence

A Lucifer x MC’s Over-protective! Sister fanfic

4.45k words

Genre: Angst

Trigger Warnings: mentions violence, self-inflictions; Read at your own discretion.

Chapter 1: click here

Chapter 3: click here

"Is this a some sort of punishment?"

"You're really lucky... I am quite jealous, if I may say."

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

With the noisy, yellow demon unconscious, the only sound on their way to House of Lamentation is MC's periodic yawns from the lack of night's sleep and the rumbling wheels of their suitcase on an empty road.

"We're here! Come on, I'll introduce you to everyone. They should be in the dining room right now." Starting to feel the exhaustion she's been holding back since meeting the other-worldly creatures, Alexandria let her sister half-drag her off to somewhere.

"I'm home!" Pulling her to a room, the first thing she saw is a large dining table filled with food and... Five more demons. Five male demons.

"MC, we're leaving." She tugged on the female's hand, still attached on her own, but in turn resisted her slight force.

"What? No, we won't." The teen raised an eyebrow from her sudden demeanor.

"MC!! I MISS YOU!!" A brown-haired guy came rushing towards their direction with open arms. Yet, before he could even latch his arms around the girl, Alexandria pulled her away, causing the male to hug nothing but air.

"MC! Why did you avoid— Huh?"

"MC, w–who is she?" A purple-haired tensely asked, anxious of the stranger in their home.

"She's my sister—"

"Ahhh!!" Alexandria and MC flinched from the sudden outburst of the man who came running at them moments ago, which caught her off-guard.

Suddenly, her hand was yanked away from her little sister's grasp and was held a few centimeters to the demon's eyes.

"Wha... such a..." He then stretched the said arm out and tenderly stroke it up her shoulder, "What a flawless, plump, porcelain skin..." then let go and cupped her cheeks with both hands.

"Such a refined beauty. But wait..." The male narrowed his eyes for a second, "Are you not sleeping well? Your face is a tee~ny bit dry and a bit of bag under your eyes." The demon gave her a sad pout.

"I usually appreciate such flattery. However, right now, I can only sense it as an assault from a stranger I just met. So will you please refrain from your harassment?" Regaining her composure, she snapped at him.

"Asmodeus, stop harassing our guest unless you wanted punishment." Asmodeus instantly raised both his hands up from the domineering voice on the doorway. Lucifer appeared with a beat Mammon.

"Whoopsy! My bad. What a rude way to greet a wonderful guest such as yourself." Asmodeus sends her a wink before returning to his seat.

"MC, will you introduce her to everyone."

"Hmm! Everyone, meet my sister, Alexa! Due to certain circumstances, she'll be staying here with us all throughout my stay here."

"Pleased to meet all of you. I'm Alexandria Evergreen, MC's older sister. I'm here to watch over her. I hope to have a conflict-free relationship with everyone."

"No, the pleasure is ours." A blonde-haired man replied, "I'm Satan, the fourth eldest. I maybe the Avatar of Wrath but I assure you, I'm the nicest and most logical person here." But her instinct says otherwise as she felt an odd atmosphere around the green-eyed man.

"Bush e'shi, shoo shais shoo hamp 'o shibi." Her eyes travelled to the oranged-haired man who seemed to be emptying the table stuffing himself.

"Beel, you shouldn't talk while chewing." A drowsy, navy blue-haired guy yawns beside him. "MC, he means you said you have no siblings." He rubbed his eyes before turning his attention to the older sister. "Hello, I'm Belphegor, Beelzebub's twin and the youngest. I'm also the Avatar of Sloth. This guy beside me is Beelzebub, the Avatar of Gluttony and the sixth oldest." The scarfing guy nods and she returned the gesture.

"Oh that? Yes, I don't have one back then, but our parents got married a few weeks ago. We're originally childhood friends."

"WoOAAAHH~!! That's just like the anime 'My Dearest Childhood Friend became my Sister after our Parents got Married but now the Aliens Invaded the Earth so We Became Heroes and Stop the End of the World!!' and that is really LIT!!" The demon, whom she thought was timid a while ago, squealed in one breathe, and it certainly caught her by surprise.

"That noisy one is Levi." MC sweatdropped.

"I'm Leviathan, the third oldest and the Avatar of Envy."

"And don't forget about the sweet and charming Asmodeus here~~ I'm the fifth eldest and the Avatar of Lust. You can call me Asmo-chan~~" he winked for the second time.

Yet contrary to his positive attitude, Alexandria cocked an eyebrow. "So you mean..." Her gaze followed Mammon wobbling to the table. "That crook right there is the second oldest?"

His head snapped at her. "Oi! Gotta problem if I'm the second oldest?"

"Yeah, in more ways than one." She curtly replied. "So, if you're the Avatar of Greed, you being a crook does make sense."

"Oi! You don't have to say it twice!"

Ignoring Mammon, she faced the oldest. "And you're the Avatar of Pride, I suppose?"

"Yes, and let me properly introduce myself to you." He placed a palm above his chest. "I'm Lucifer, the oldest of the seven brothers and the Avatar of Pride. I'm the one who leads this household and tend to all of these problem children." Satan, Mammon and Belphegor glared daggers towards him.

"Ha! More importantly, I have a juicy piece of news to you guys." Mammon grinned which alerted Lucifer.

"Not a word Mammon."

"'Ya see, that's no normal human right there. A few hours ago, she just made THE Lucifer on his knees and tied him in a pact with her."

The five brothers' eyes popped out of their skulls and jaws dropped. Even Beel almost choked.

"Pact... you say?" 5 pairs of eyes darted between a grinning Mammon, a displeased Lucifer and the new female.

"You're right. She's not an ordinary human but let me clear two things." The menacing red-eyed demon crossed his arms and raised his chin. "The only one on his knees, or rather, on his back is none other than you Mammon. You're the one knocked out after just three blows from her. You're also the one who caused this series of unfortunate events... Don't ever think I'm done with your punishment yet."

"Eek!" Making shrieked and cowered in fear.

"Wait– She what? I know Mammon is weak but, she really knock him out with three blows??" Asmodeus exclaimed.

"Are you really sure she's a human?" Satan added.

Although Beelzebub is also shocked, his brows twitched in realization, glancing at the two female. "MC, Miss Alexandria, you probably haven't eaten anything yet. You should eat."

"I think I'll pass. I'll get some shut-eye first." MC awkwardly laughed. Beel is pretty amazing in his own way...

"I thank you for the offer, but I also needed some rest." She slightly smiled.

Lucifer stepped closer beside her. "If that's the case, then you should stay in MC's room for now. Mammon will clean the room beside MC's for your use later."

Glancing at the oldest, she shook her head. "Providing a room for me is more than enough. I can tend to it just fine. And I can't impose to you anymore than I already did."

"But you're a guest. It's only natural for us to ensure you'll have a great time staying here."

"But I insist. And I'm not a guest. I'm the one who made my way here so it's only natural for me to help here in exchange for my stay." She paused as she crossed her arms. "Unless, freeloading is a thing here. That'll be bad, for encouraging irresponsibility and decadence."

"..." Lucifer speechlessly furrowed his brows.

Seven pairs of eyes were both shocked and amazed to see someone actually have the guts to run their mouth against one of the strongest demon in their realm without breaking a sweat.

"She really is not a human. There's no way a human can stand her ground against Lucifer." Asmodeus gaped.

"Or maybe she's just clueless of Lucifer's true power... Though I could use her help to mess with him." Belphegor and Satan snickers at the same time as if having the very same thought.

"To not even have the natural instinct to flee from danger is just dumb." Alexandria ominously glance towards Belphegor, Satan and Leviathan, causing a chill run down their spine.

"Then please excuse us. MC shall be my guide." Drawing back, she bowed towards Lucifer and the others before pulling MC and their luggage out of the dining room.

"MC... I must say, our time here will be anything but harmonious..." The older sister sighed.

"But I'm sure you'll have fun. There's no boring times here" MC just laughed awkwardly.

"Oh well, all I want is a peaceful time you. Even an hour or two a day would be nice."

-----

Forget their peaceful time, getting along with most of the brothers is hard, except Beel who is too nice to her to be considered a bother. All the other brothers do was try to steal MC away.

Well, Asmodeus is an exception. He's not trying to take MC away. He's trying take both of them away for his beauty and night out shenanigans.

A few days have passed, and she was also made into a student to be with MC as much as possible.

"Hey Alexa-chan, I'm just wondering... Is there anything you can't do? At this rate you'll end up stealing MC's heart faster than any of us. You're too dreamy, you might as well take her as your bride." Asmodeus pouts as he lazily pokes through his steak Alexandria prepared for dinner.

"O–Oi! The hell are you saying, Asmo?" A flustered Mammon yelled, sitting beside MC.

The older female sighed and glance at Asmodeus, sitting beside her. "Just eat Asmodeus, you're just hungry. And I told you to not call me Alexa."

"But aren't I right? You're so in love with her enough to follow her here. And you're not really her sister by blood, so it's possible."

"If I told you, you and Mammon look good together, you should marry each other, what would you feel?"

"Eww! That's the grossest thing I ever heard." He stuck his tongue out in disgust.

"She really hates you, lololol." Levi snickers at Mammon, sitting across him.

Mammon narrowed his eyes at him, tapping his knife on his plate.

"I never saw this child that way. I'm more like a mother to her more than anything." She points to the 'child' next to her, too busy stuffing her face with the food to notice she is the topic on the table. "Saying that, I didn't protect that child just to fall for any demon."

"Aww... And I thought it'll also be interesting if there's that kind of plot twist." Asmodeus look down, only to find his plate empty. "Hey! Beel, give me back my steak!" His eyes darts across him, towards the orange demon chewing happily.

"I thought you don't want it anymore so I ate it." He smiled innocently as Belphegor and Satan laughed in amusement, witnessing the whole theft.

Alexandria glance around the room, searching for a certain person she haven't seen since yesterday night. "By the way, where's Lucifer?"

"He's probably still in his study, it's the time of the month he have tons of work to do." Satan replied.

"He'll probably coop himself until tomorrow or the day after." Belphegor added, finishing his meal.

She gave a second glance in the table, void of any trace of any food left, sweeping to the also empty plate of her sister.

"Hmm... MC did you eat well?"

"Yes! I really missed your steak!" The teen beamed at her, having a drop of sauce on her lips.

"What am I gonna do with you." She giggled as she wipe the stain off. "Come on, you should rest for the night."

After sending her to her room, Alexandria strolls towards the kitchen and left with a tray on hand, walking towards the library.

She passed by the tall shelfs with several missing books of all sorts of fields. Going further in, she knocked on the door inside the library.

"It's Alexandria, I brought you something." Hearing no response, she let herself in.

The first thing that attract her eyes is the tall pile of paper wall on the table and the male who is almost hidden by it, black circles around his eyes.

"Are you still alive?" Lucifer's flipped towards her, finally noticing her presence.

"Ohh, it's you. What do you want?"

"You probably haven't eaten anything since this morning. I brought you some sandwiches and fruit shake." She set the tray down the small table in the middle of the room and took the plate of sandwiches and the large cup of fruit shake, moving towards Lucifer's study table.

"Here, taking a breather won't hurt." Red orbs darted between the plate, the cup and her face before reluctantly taking it after a sigh and setting it down the free space is the table.

"This is a nice study. It's cozier than mine back in human world."

"What's your deal?"

"Well, I like the fireplace. I can't have one in my apartment."

"If you need nothing, then leave. I don't have time to waste."

"Yeah, I need to do something." She took a few leaves of paper from the desk and scan through it. "Hmm... I see... As expected..."

"What is it you need to do?" Lucifer raised his eyebrow.

"I'll help you with this papers. With us two, we can finish it by morning."

"Hmmp! There's no way I'll let a human mess with the financial statements of the Devildom."

"If it's about the difference of terms and flow of currency, then I have already studied about it."

"...Huh? How..." The demon suddenly remembered the several books missing from the library's shelf. "Ahh... But then, how did you learn how to read our language?" His brows furrowed.

"There's no way I could have extensive knowledge about pacts and such if I can't read the original texts about it."

The lady in front of him never failed to impress him. And yet, "The answer is still a no." Stoic expression returned his face.

"Then let me rephrase it. My master is having a hard time," Lucifer almost slip out of his chair from her words. "...and I can do something about it, so I want help however I can."

"Did you just say 'Master'?"

"Yeah, based on our contract, you're technically my master. Though you can't take advantage of me, which is a good thing..."

Lucifer wouldn't admit it. He can't admit it. But being called master by this capable human who always amaze him has stroked his ego more than he could ever felt from anyone, he can't even stop himself from grinning.

"You really know your way with words. But don't get me wrong. I only allowed you because you've went so far just to do what you want." A smile was also plastered on her face.

"Yes Master Lucifer, if you say so." She chuckled a bit before taking the papers Lucifer choose for her to do.

Sharing a few conversation while working, they really did finish by morning as she predicted.

------

"Alexa, why aren't you in your room? Did you woke up early?"

"Yeah, something like that." With a bit of sleepiness clouding her head, Alexandria chose to eat light breakfast before taking a rest. Good thing it's weekend.

MC moved her attention at the demon on the end of the table. "Lucifer, it's really unusual. You've finished quite early."

"I just discovered a breather had been rather helpful." He stealthly stole a quick glance towards the lady busy eating her food.

The only sound on the table after that is a few yawns— from the usual sleepy Belphegor; and Leviathan and Mammon, probably from overnight gaming marathon they could never finish tonight as Lucifer is out of his confinement.

Everyone has their own world when Alexandria breaks the silence.

"MC, you told me you're hanging out with Mammon and Asmodeus today, right?" She place down her utensils as the girl glance at her.

"Yeah, we're going to shop some clothes on Majolish. Why? You're coming anyways, aren't you?"

"No. I have some business today, but I'll leave you to Beel. Is it alright with you Beel?" She scan the face of the food-loving demon whom just finished his food.

"I don't mind." He smiled softly.

"Thank you. Please do bring her safe and I'll treat you to Madam Scream's of anything you want."

"Madam Scream's...? Really? With anything I want?" Beel's eyes sparkles as drool pools down his empty plate.

She gave him a broad smile. "Yes, anything."

"Alexa, you probably don't know what you're saying. Beel will definitely bust your pocket in no time." Belphegor yawns as he took a bite on his toast.

"But I'm aware of Beel's appetite. Let's just say I'm loaded enough to feed 10 Beels for at least 1 month." She swiped a black card in air with her middle and index finger.

"Hey... Is that..." Satan raised an eyebrow.

"WOAHH!! The legendary black card! Imagine how many Ruri-chan collectibles and games I could buy with that." Sleepiness flushes out of Leviathan's system as he stared at the black card.

"Can feed... 10 Beels..." The sixth-born's drool intensifies.

"Hmm? When did you get one? You should've just asked me to process it for you." A surprised but rather unfazed Lucifer asked.

"I told you I don't want to be a bother. Though I admit getting one is not an easy task."

"Hey Alexa-chan. Are you sure you don't wanna join us shopping?" The fourth-born playfully twist her bangs around his fingers. "And while we're at it, let's have a full body Super Beauty Mud Course~"

She touched her chin in thought. "I'll think about the mud course, but not today."

But then, a demon, who should be hyper at the sight of a premium item, was rather silent.

"Hey Alexa-sama... Can I touch it?" The second-born teleports beside her, orbs sparkles gold and fingers twitching on air in a perverse way. "Please. It'll be a dream come true to hold it in my arms for even just a second."

"I refuse." She slid it back her wallet as fast as she swiped it out. "Show me first that I could trust you." She pinched the tan nose facing her, grinning.

Cherry red orbs observes the sight of the lively table, a curve tenderly forms across his face.

"O-Oi! Let go–" *Ring ring*

The sound of a phone rung through the spirited atmosphere, which wiped the smile off Alexandria's face.

Picking up the cup of tea with her free hand, she gulp it down before letting go of Mammon.

"Take care while shopping later, MC." She ruffled her sister's hair, "Thank you for the meal. Now, if you'll excuse me." ...before leaving the room.

"Then, I'll also retire for today and take a rest. Don't make a mess while I do so." Feeling tired of his restless shift, Lucifer decided to leave and retire to his room.

On his way, he heard the familiar voice of the lady behind her door, seemingly distressed.

As unethical as it seems, the oldest's curiosity of the enigmatic female wins him over and decided to stood his ground.

"I told you Father, I can't right now, that's why I'm telling you to just let me quit...... If I tell you, you'll definitely try to take me back there....... No...... Not telling......."

He could hear the series of loud sighs and frustration beyond the door.

"No, I don't want it. Brother deserves the company more than I do. So please think it over again.... Yes....... Yes, I will. Then, bye." He then heard a beep ending the call.

On the verge of stepping away as to not get caught, the next thing he heard render him motionless in place.

"I'm not even a your real child to begin with. If I continue there, I'll actually end up killing myself..." Unconsciously, he turned the knob and pushed the door open.

Alexandria jolts in surprise as her door opened out of nowhere.

"Wha..." Surprise was imminent on her face yet, realizing it is the first-born, her brows scrunches. "Don't you know knocking is a common courtesy?"

"What do you mean by you not being your father's real child? And what do you mean about killing yourself?" He ignores the annoyed expression of the woman. There's no way he could let this information pass under his nose. Not with this girl who made him concede more than he expected, and certainly not because of that grim words.

"What do you want?" She narrowed her eyes in annoyance.

"Killing yourself is something I could not ignore. And, I want to know more about the human who have the audacity to force a pact with me." He returned the same gaze with crossed arms above his chest. They stared at each other for a few seconds before the lady yield for the first time.

"Alright. I guess as a demon who have a pact with me, you have the right to know. We are, after all, connected by soul in spite of everything... Let's go to your office or something. I don't want anyone to hear this like you did."

"Right now, Satan is probably cooped in the library. He'll certainly asked why we're together. Let's go to my room instead. It's quite spacious for someone to eavesdrop."

She followed behind the oldest brother, careful not to be seen by anyone. Entering the room without meeting anyone down the hallway gave her a sense of relief.

"Even your room is nice." She casually strolls in the room, brushing her fingertips on the bones in the pillar, the candelabra, the gramophone, and scanning a few picture frames above the fireplace.

"You may want to start your story this instant or I'll pull the words out of you by force." Growing impatient, Lucifer took a sit at an angle on the corner of his bed, arms drapes his chest again.

With another sigh, she sat on the length of the bed partially behind the man, placing both her palms on the bed as she face the furnace.

"Too eager, aren't we?"

"Unlike you, I want to take a rest." Alexandria chuckled of his remark.

"It's true I'm not a real child of the current family I'm in. I am adopted after all." Her Aquamarine eyes glows a hue of orange as she stare at the dancing fire in the furnace. "It's no secret to MC. I did met her in an orphanage after all.."

"She's a volunteer that time when we're still young. Is that good enough? Am I off the hook already?"

"No. That doesn't answer my second question. You're still hiding... something." The strained smile he witnessed on her face almost made him regret continuing his statement.

"Is this a some sort of punishment?" A self-reproachful laughter rings the room, "You're good with picking your card if it is."

"You can say that. But I'm also curious of you."

"Yeah, yeah... But it'll be a long story. Is it alright with you?"

"I have the whole day available. And you?"

"I also have nothing to do. I just gave MC a sister-free day or she'll get tired of me."

"Then, continue your story." He moves facing the same fireplace.

"Ahh, right... If I remember correctly, the Great Celestial War... It's a conflict within your family, right?"

Lucir flinched from the sudden question. "...Why did you ask?"

"I just thought we may have the same sentiment... or maybe not."

"..."

"Anyways, MC knew nothing about what I'm going to tell you, so it's our secret, okay?" She waited for his reply before continuing.

"You see, I also have a big family. I'm the oldest with my six, adorable siblings. They're 3 set of twins. Amazing, right?" She smiled at him, softly.

"We're living a normal, happy life. I'm really satisfied with our big family I feel it to last forever... Or so I thought." The softness in her face disappeared into a grimace. Colors in her eyes disappeared as she travel back to time.

"I was 9 at that time when that night happened. It was freezing I couldn't feel my fingertips. Snow was falling hard when I witness everything."

"Unlike that fire, the place was rather cold and dark. My struggling brother's neck in his bare hands, my limp and beaten mother trying to pry him away from my brother, the bloody corpses of my 3 sisters, my 2 other brothers writhing in pain... and that sickening smile on my father's face." She spat, grabbing Lucifer's comforter with her fist. Lucifer watched the scorching flame reflected in her eyes as if it's her own.

"There's no way I could ever forgive him for what he have done..." She rid of her shoes and hugged her legs, facing Lucifer as she lay her cheeks on her knees. "Like how I could never forgive myself for what happened."

"Forgive yourself? That's a foolish way to put it. You didn't do anything wrong."

Bluish orbs draw itself towards his own as she gave him a bitter smile. "You can say that because you don't know everything."

"Then tell me what I don't know."

"Let's just say that a drive to protect MC and a drive to live are two different things. And I've been searching for the latter to no avail."

"You're really lucky to still have your brothers. I am quite jealous if I may say." She wore her shoes again and amble her way to the entryway. "It seems like this is as far as I could tell you right now. Maybe I'll continue it next time. If you'll excuse me." She bowed before closing the door.

In contrast, Lucifer couldn't utter another word. Perhaps it's because of the pact above his chest which connects them, but he felt his heart ache slowly since she started telling her story.

And right now, he feels an unbearable pain. An unbearable pain as if he's reliving his own scars.

He stared at the same scorching fire, and as though imitating her, he tried imagining the grief he have felt of losing someone dear.

"...lucky, huh... I guess I really am..." Clutching the fabric above his chest, he felt a pang of guilt from his curiosity.

If anyone asks if I hate Mammon for bullying him here too much— the answer's no. In fact, he's my # 2 (sometimes # 1 coz Luci). I really love him and his dorkiness! But he's just so adorable when he's flustered that I end up picking on him a bit too much (maybe that's also the reason why I love Luci and he's my first if not because of my occasional Mammon hype).

Anyways, it's a good thing I posted it now. I've been proofreading it for the umpteenth time cause I don't have any friends to ask nor share sentiments with the Obey Me Fandom (sad life of an otaku). I have many revisions but I'm quite satisfied with how it turns out again. UwU

And I didn't even noticed it's already 3 a.m. so I'm gonna peace out now~~

Chapter 3

MASTERLIST

[baepop]

PRIVATE // 6

You crash the proposal dinner.

Word Count: 5.9k

Pairing: Jungkook x You x Jennie

Genre: So much angst...and smutty smut

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

You awoke in Yoongi’s bed the morning after. Your eyes had swollen and crusted over from the excessive crying that took place all night. At the thought of why your eyes were so puffy, the realization set in all over again. Thankfully, you were too tired and numb to start crying again. The pain inflicted on you from the memory of meeting Jennie’s mother was now dull and instead overshadowed by slight embarrassment at letting Yoongi see how upset you were. Though you were still pissed that he kept something so important from you, you were grateful that he was willing to nurture you in this wounded state instead of being his usual callous self. Yoongi could surprise you with his soft side from time to time.

You yawned and stretched out your limbs, your body feeling as stiff as if it had been asleep for years. You had no idea what time it was since Yoongi’s room was always dark from drawn blinds and dark curtains. You hesitated in getting out of bed for a few more moments, reveling in the comfort Yoongi’s quilted blankets offered. You knew that the minute you forfeited their warmth, you’d have to face reality’s all too cruel embrace.

You rolled over and slowly sat up right, preparing your bare feet to touch the cold hardwood floor, but before you did, you realized there was a body lying in the way. You fisted your eyes groggily then peered over the edge of the bed to get a better look. Yoongi was laying on the floor and his body was so still you weren’t sure if he was actually sleeping or just laying there with his eyes closed. You jabbed your toe into his rib and he instantly swatted it away. Ah, the latter.

“I thought you were sleeping on the couch?” You watched as he stretched and settled his hands across his flat stomach, eyeing the ceiling.

“I was. But I dunno…just decided to sleep in here. Had to make sure you weren’t gonna fucken kill yourself or some shit.”

This time, you jammed your heel into the boy’s side, earning a grunt of pain out of him. “Ha-ha. Very funny. Seriously though…thank you. I mean I still hate you for being a deceitful piece of shit, but thanks for having my back last night.”

“Wow, that’s like…the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Yoongi’s monotone made you giggle, but it came out horse. “Seriously though, don’t mention it. Last night was stressful as hell. Please do not put me in that predicament again.”

“I refuse to feel badly, you deserved every bit of it. But don’t worry, you won’t be put in the middle of any of this anymore. I’m going to settle this shit tonight,”

Yoongi paused briefly before replying, “So you’re still hell-bent on going huh?” You hummed a confirmation and hopped out of bed carefully so as not to step on him. Yoongi sighed and sat up, scratching the side of his head. “I guess there’s no keeping you from it then. They decided to host the dinner at Jennie’s place last minute, six o’clock. Now let me sleep.”

“Thanks, Yoongi.” You left his apartment swiftly to catch the very next shuttle going towards your apartment. You wanted to get home as quickly as possible and start your day. Considering that the fanciest dress you owned was an LBD with cutouts at the hips, you’d definitely need to do some shopping.

Jennie sighed heavily and massaged her temples. Her mother’s shrill voice could be heard even through the thick wooden door she was hiding behind. Her mother always made it a point to oversee the event planning even though she always hires professionals to do just that. Turns out it wasn’t just Jennie with whom she’d never be satisfied with. Jennie felt badly for the staff because, while she was able to escape her mother’s demands even if only momentarily, they could not.

There was still 45 minutes until the start of the first course, but Jungkook and his family were already perched in Jennie’s living room, politely pretending not to hear all the yelling going on in the dining room. They were making conversation with her father whom had just arrived from a 16 hour flight. Just when things got quiet from behind the door, Jennie’s mother barged into the kitchen and forced her daughter out of hiding out so she could mingle and be the perfect hostess. As she stared at the backs of her guests’ heads peering above the sofa from afar, her stomach churned, and she wished so badly that you were there to make this easier. She hated everything about this, but she agreed to it and there was no backing down now.

Jennie swallowed thickly and approached her guests. Her father immediately noticed her and made room for her next to him on the couch. He embraced her with one arm once she finished bowing to Jungkook’s family and began praising her. She grimaced and avoided eye contact with Jungkook, hating the way her dad sounded fake while complimenting her. Jungkook fought his instinct to roll his eyes valiantly.

You heard laughter and a medley of voices you’d never heard before from the other side of Jennie’s front door. You took a moment for yourself in the hallway to calm your nerves. You stared down at your heels and smoothed your lavender satin dress over your stomach. Loose curls hung from the sides of your face while the rest formed a carefully crafted updo. There was still 15 minutes until the dinner would be starting, but it seemed the event was already underway and in full swing. You didn’t hear Jennie’s or Jungkook’s voices at all and feared this was a huge mistake. You were so mad at them, but the momentum from your hurt feelings was losing steam as it suddenly became all too real. You took a few more deep breaths, deciding that you wouldn’t let this dress go to waste and that if you were going to lose your best friend and your boyfriend all at once then you wouldn’t go down without swinging. You knocked on the door loudly three times and listened carefully. It seemed no one was aware of the knocking, yet you heard the distinct sound of heels against hardwood approaching the door.

As the door opened, Jennie’s mother peered from behind it. Her shocked expression morphed into one of disbelief and then annoyance at your presence in the doorway. You cleared your throat when the woman seemed to be in no hurry to actually let you in.

“I’m just here to show my support, like you wanted me to.” You stared into her eyes innocently, but she could see right through your feigned innocence.

“Mom, who is it?” Jennie called out from the living room as the conversations died down. You smiled sweetly at the older woman, both of you realizing that she wouldn’t be able to turn you away quietly. The older woman stepped aside so everyone could see who had arrived.

“It appears your friend has come to show her support.” You stepped through the doorway and waved at the crowd of people sitting down. Jennie shot up in alarm and stared at you with wide questioning eyes. Her smile was wide and her expression inquisitive, her silence urging you for answers but you simply returned a blank stare and tight smile. The older man next to her whom you presumed to be her father stood up as well.

“Jennie, don’t be rude. Go greet your friend!” He then turned to you and smiled. “You came just in time, dinner is just about to be served.” You smiled and tucked a curl behind your hair as you bowed. “Thank you! I just wanted to be here during a really important occasion as Jennie’s best friend!” You made your way over to Jennie and hugged her halfheartedly while she was still unable to form words. Her hands lingered on the small of your back.

As you situated yourself at the independent sectional in between the two parallel couches, you finally allowed your eyes to rest on Jungkook. He was dressed impeccably with his hair swept to the side exposing his forehead. He had his eyes trained forward, determined to avoid your piercing stare. He was rigid as stone, but you were still able to detect the subtle way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. It brought you faint satisfaction that you made him nervous. You were unbelievably pissed at him.

Jisoo on the other hand, was barely able to contain her laughter at the absurdity of the situation. She took turns staring in between the three of you then smirking down at her lap. Although she held no allegiance to you and continuously made that crystal clear, you were upset that she hadn’t said anything to you either despite having plenty of opportunity to do so.

As your eyes traveled further down the couch, you took in Jungkook’s dad for the second time. He seemed to be confused as to why you looked so familiar, so you offered him a little help.

“It’s nice to see you again Mr. Jeon! Do you remember me? I helped your son pick out that suit.”

His eyes lit up instantly, “Ahh, yes of course! It’s lovely to meet you again. Thank you so much again for your help! He looks handsome, doesn’t he?” Jungkook’s father laughed and patted his son on the shoulder. Jennie’s parents laughed and nodded in agreement. You tried your best to laugh along hoping the stabbing feeling in your heart would go away soon.

“Oh, it’s my pleasure of course. Anyone who’s courting my bestest friend in the whole wide world should look the part!” You smiled cheesily between Jungkook and Jennie. You could see Jisoo’s frame shaking from the corner of your eye.

Jungkook’s dad made a comment on how small the world seemed to be just as a waiter appeared to escort everyone to the dining table. You took a seat next to Jisoo and watched everyone else for queues on how to behave appropriately. You’d never attended a fancy dinner and had no idea which utensil was for what.

“Lay the fabric over your lap, dummy.” Jisoo commented under her breath at you as the staff members placed small bowls of soup in front of everyone. You did as she instructed, trying not to seem like a rookie in front of so many wealthy people. If you were honest, you were in no mood to eat. The spectacle unfolding in front of you was proving too much to handle already. Jungkook and Jennie were made to sit across from each other as their parents took turns talking about how great they were and how profitable it would be to merge their families.

You watched everyone take hold of the wider spoon to the right of the bowls and followed their lead. You dipped the utensil into the reddish brownish liquid and sipped gingerly through barely parted lips. It was delicious of course, but you couldn’t force yourself to eat so you settled for wading your spoon around the bowl while looking around the table.

Your eyes first gravitated towards Jennie’s face. She was smiling at her parents and Jungkook’s but it didn’t quite meet her eyes. As if sensing your eyes on her, her head drifted in your direction and your eyes met for the second time that night. The edge of her lips feebly quirked upwards but you decided to turn your head and ignore it. Your petulant behavior didn’t bring you the revenge you craved, but it was a start.

Your gaze moved on to her mother who was animatedly chatting amongst the older people. Everyone laughed at her jokes and hung on her every word. They probably didn’t suspect her of being the type of woman to lure a college student into a car for the sole purpose of crushing her romantic relationships.

Her husband on the other hand, smiled with his eyes here and there but barely contributed to the conversation. He simply nodded along when a story included him in it and ate his food. He seemed tired and for a brief moment, you pondered what his relationship with Jennie might be like.

Jungkook seemed to be embarrassed by his dad’s constant praise. His hand barely left the back of his neck since everyone sat down. He circled his spoon around in his soup just as you did while sneaking glances in your direction. Your eyes dared him to look back at you for once and face you, but he never did. You sighed and faced forward again, waiting for the next course, but you instantly noticed Jungkook’s mom’s trained eyes on you. She seemed to have been observing you for a while. You blushed and smiled, but her look remained concerned. She spoke to you quietly from across the table without disturbing the ongoing conversations. “You’re a…friend of Jennie’s?”

“Yes, we’ve been inseparable for the past year!” A giggle bubbled up in your throat but died before it could realize its potential. The woman was clearly unconvinced. Your smile faded and you began sweating, feeling like she could see right through your false happiness.

“And how do you know my son, again?” You were starting to feel uncomfortable with her questioning, feeling as if she knew more than she was letting on.

“Mom, she was the girl who helped me with the suit, remember? What’s with the third degree?” Jungkook chuckled nervously from a few seats down but you could sense his annoyance. You were relieved he came to your rescue, but it was hurtful being reduced to just another store clerk. You felt a lump in your throat form.

Much to your relief, the waiters instantly appeared with the second course. Bite-sized appetizers sat perched at the center of each plate placed in front of all the guests. The dish was some variation of bruschetta and it smelled fantastic. Your mouth watered as you picked a piece up between your fingers and plopped it in your mouth. You hummed in delight with your cheeks so full your eyes turned into crescents. Jennie’s mother scowled at you for eating with your hands, but her husband reacted by chuckling to himself. You almost choked in a hurry to swallow.

The rest of the courses went smoothly, for the most part. After the appetizer, a spring salad was served followed by seared steak and finally, a pop colored mousse with an ambiguous taste that intrigued you. The only hiccups happened when you had to hold back dramatically gagging as their parents discussed the topic of grandchildren. The three of you wore the exact same pale and uncomfortable expressions. However, when Jennie’s mom decided to brag about Jennie’s nonexistent cooking skills, you failed to hold back the cackle that escaped your mouth. You held up your palms together apologetically for disrupting dinner again while Jennie covered her grin with her palm. Jungkook allowed himself a small smirk.

As the dishes were being collected around the table signaling the end of the dinner, Jungkook’s father began talking about his son’s budding career in baseball. He seemed to be immensely proud while informing Jennie’s parents of all the scouts that have visited Jungkook’s games.

“Isn’t that right, Jisoo?” Mr. Jeon turned to his niece while explaining how supportive she was of Jungkook’s athletics. “She attended the last one where he pitched a perfect game!”

“Uh, almost, Dad. I almost pitched a perfect game.” Jungkook intervened, the blush evident on his face. It was strange to see him in a setting where he wasn’t overtly cocky.

“Ahh, Kook’s always so modest!”

Jisoo put her phone away at the sound of her name but the bored look on her face stayed. “Oh…yeah I was there. It was a great game. Wasn’t it, Y/N? She was there too, being just as supportive!” Everyone turned to you at the table and you could feel the nervousness prickle at your scalp. You and Jennie’s mom shared the same horrified expression. You whipped your head towards Jisoo whom was facing you. No one could see the wild amusement on her face.

“Uhhhhhh…Yeah. I was there. I…uh…I’m all about school spirit! Way to go Jungkook.” You laughed pathetically, hoping their parents wouldn’t catch on to just how strange this situation was. You gulped while looking around the table. “Uh, Jisoo actually invited me! We’re actually becoming really great friends!” You ruffled the top of her head. The pale girl sneered at you and cringed at the physical contact.

“Oh? And how is it that you know my niece, seeing as she doesn’t go to your school?” Jungkook’s mom quirked her eyebrow at you and you never wanted the earth to swallow you whole more than at that very moment.

“Yeah, how DO you know me?” Jisoo placed her elbow on the table and leaned her cheek onto her palm, enjoying your misery down to the last drop.

You hated all this lying. It only led to more lies and you couldn’t take much more. You frowned and looked at Jennie who seemed to mirror your look. You took a deep breath, resolute in explaining what’s really going on.

However, it seemed Jennie was an expert at reading your face because she shot up from her seat before you could open your mouth.

“Oh my god! I accidentally ripped my dress! Y/N, come help me fix it!” Jennie scurried out of the dining area and up the stairs that led to her room. You hesitantly excused yourself from the table and made your way to the stairs but not before glancing back over your shoulder and meeting Jungkook’s annoyed stare. He was finally looking straight at you.

You held your dress in one hand and the railing with the other as you made your way up to Jennie’s room. You were so preoccupied with escaping the interrogation that you were only now realizing this would be the first time you’ve gotten some alone time with Jennie, since the night of the party and more importantly since you found out what was going on with her and Jungkook. You held your hand on your chest and felt your heart thumping furiously, willing it to calm down before you entered the bedroom.

You took a steadying breath, closing and locking the door behind you. Jennie was sitting on the edge of the bed, one of her legs crossed over the other. Her arms were folded in front of her and her fingers drummed impatiently on her arm. Her dress was in pristine condition, just as you suspected.

“Seriously Y/N? What the hell was that!? Are you playing some kind of game with Jisoo? Get it together! You were about to ruin everything in front of my family. Why did you come here if you weren’t going to take this seriously!?” Jennie was sputtering angrily. She had never talked to you like this, ever.

Your heart quickened in pace and you could feel heat radiating from your face. Your breathing shortened as you stood there getting scolded by her. Without thinking, you closed the distance between you two and smacked her in the face so hard your hand tingled. Jennie brought a hand up to her cheek but refused to move or talk any more. You were both in shock and reeling from emotions running high.

“How dare you,” you struggled to find the words to convey your electric emotions, “you have no right to sit there and scold me like a child after what you’ve been up to behind my back. I wouldn’t have to be so careful about what I say if this situation wasn’t so fucked up! Nothing about this is normal Jennie, NOTHING. And you’re the worst fucking friend EVER.” Jennie remained quiet and didn’t bother turning her head to look at you, so you turned to leave the room in a huff. Jennie’s hand immediately shot out and caught your wrist before you could get away.

“Don’t go.” Jennie’s voice was so small it was almost inaudible. You turned around to see her looking up at you with panicked eyes, but you were too mad to care about sparing her feelings. You ripped your arm out of her grasp as your chest heaved. Your heartbeat thrummed loudly in your ears.

“Seriously? That’s all you’ve got!? What was your plan exactly? After the stunt you pulled at the party and now stabbing me in the back like this, I don’t even get an apology?! You have so much explaining to do it’s actually laughable, Jennie. But instead, you haul me up here on the pretense of a fashion emergency, just to tell me to play along to your bullshit better!?” You reached for a seam at the bottom of Jennie’s dress with both hands and ripped the fabric wide open, revealing her legs underneath. She gasped in response and stared at her exposed lower body with a gaping mouth.

“Y/N, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!?” She stood up from the bed and pushed you in a huff. You stumbled back, matching the wild look in her eyes with your own. “You should really go. You’re acting crazy right now.” Jennie fiddled with the bottom of her dress. You walked up close to her towering over her.

“Oh? But I thought you wanted me to stay.” You questioned her innocently. If she thought you were being crazy now, then she was in for a treat.

“Not if you’re going to act like this I don’t.” Jennie jutted out her chin, refusing to back down.

“What am I doing that’s so crazy huh?” You yanked the single strap of her dress down her shoulder. She immediately brought her arms up to her chest, holding up the remainder of the fabric. Jennie’s nostril’s flared with rage. “Considering what you’re doing to me, this is pretty fuckin tame sweetheart!” You pushed her back and she fell on the bed with a bounce. She sat up on her forearms and blew her hair out of her face.

“I mean, what the fuck do you want me to act like!?” You parted her legs with your knee and then rested it on the bed between them so she couldn’t close them. Your hair slipped over your shoulder as you leaned over her, placing your palm over her underwear and firmly cupping. She gasped as her legs twitched. “Is this what you fucking want? Is this what you were expecting from me?” You began rubbing circles furiously over her underwear once you saw the lustful gaze that clouded her vision. She started mewling and panting. You didn’t care whether anyone heard her, in fact, you wanted her to scream so loud that it’d be impossible to keep secrets around here anymore. You also wanted to get back at Jungkook for betraying you so badly, and what better way to do that than to fool around with the person that made him so insecure.

You climbed onto the bed and sat on Jennie’s leg as your hand continued its relentless movement against Jennie’s middle. You could feel her underwear dampening rapidly, a light sheen of sweat already forming on the exposed part of Jennie’s chest. Her chest heaved irregularly, no doubt a result of the sharp pleasures wracking her body. She threw her head back and exposed her neck as she tried to keep her moaning quiet. You leaned forward and ran the flat wetness of your tongue from her collar bone to her ear, earning a shiver from her entire body. She was wearing her bottom lip out with her teeth, so you pulled it out from their grasp with your thumb and held her chin to keep her eyes trained on you. Her arms and legs broke out in goosebumps.

You observed Jennie getting closer to her climax, but it didn’t feel like enough. You were trying not to think through what you were actually doing. You wanted to convey your frustration so badly. You felt used and angry. You weren’t sure why your emotions were manifesting themselves sexually, but you couldn’t stop now. It was all so intoxicating and taboo. Everyone must be wondering why it’s taking you two forever to come down. You were holding the hostess hostage, after all. These simple facts thrilled you. To hell with everyone.

You climbed down from the bed and onto the floor so that your head was level with Jennie’s mid-section. You yanked her underwear down her legs so roughly you swore they tore a little and then parted her legs with the same vehemence. She was glistening and blushing. You hooked your arms around her thighs and pulled her closer to you. You licked a stripe up her pussy and latched your lips onto her clit, sucking on it with no remorse. Jennie began moaning and groaning incessantly. Her lower stomach twitched and her legs ached to close at the buildup of sensation. You held them wide open with both of your hands and continue sucking on her mound, taking brief pauses to swipe at the accumulating wetness. It still wasn’t enough.

Your right hand released her thigh so your fingers could work their magic. One of your digits entered her with slick ease. Jennie’s eyes burst open and looked down at you, her face portraying an incredulous expression. You eased a second finger into her, earning a loud moan. She was tight, but wet enough to take it. “That’s it baby, lemme hear you.” You cooed up at her but her eyes were glazed over and looking past you in absolute pleasure.

Your fingers pressed against the sensitive spot inside her and began moving in and out, slowly at first but gradually picking up speed until you were pumping relentlessly. Her entire body was overtaken with stimulation. She no longer had the strength to hold herself up, instead laying splayed out on the bed and bucking her hips into your hand. You leaned your face in and flicked her clit with your tongue to get more of a reaction out of her. She hissed and clench around your fingers, so you latched onto her clit again and settled the tips of your fingers on her g spot to draw her orgasm out from hiding.

“Ah…fuck…Y/N…Y/N” Jennie moaned your name over and over, so you made sure not to lose your pace. You could feel the signs of her climax approaching. Her walls clenched around you rhythmically and her hips waved around rapidly in your face. She was so shamelessly full of lust that, chasing her high without abandon. It was contagious, but you hadn’t come to please her. When her voice became high pitched, you pulled away instantly. Jennie opened her eyes, blinking a few times as if needing to remember where she was. She spoke to you while panting, “What the hell Y/N, why’d you stop?”

Bending down to pick up Jennie’s underwear, you wiped her juices off of your finger with them then chucked the pair at her. The thin fabric landed on her chest in a crumpled sag, then toppled to the bed as the girl sat up in confusion.

“Just giving you what you wanted.” You smoothed out your dress and checked your hair in Jennie’s vanity mirror. You sighed and turned to her for the last time. Tears were pricking at the edges of her eyes, though you weren’t sure if that was because of the sex or because she was sad. Her lip quivered and it seemed as if she was thinking about what to say, but you just didn’t want to hear anymore. “Good luck on the marriage Jennie, he’s a real catch.”

You exited the room without a glance backward. She didn’t stop you this time, and for that you were grateful. You weren’t sure if you’d have the strength to stay away if she had. You leaned on the door to catch your breath and steady your nerves before appearing in front of everyone downstairs. You stopped breathing long enough to hear Jennie sniffling from behind the door. You debated on going back in there. You knew you were being petty, but you just couldn’t take the high road, not with this. You hated everything about this and you hated both of them for creeping behind your back. And you resented the fact that neither of them considered you before making such a decision. Just thinking about everything had you realizing how hurt you were deep down. You’d never been hurt like this before, and you couldn’t believe the crushing blows came from two people you didn’t want to let in in the first place. This all served as a good reminder as to why you were so closed off like you were, because people end up doing things like this.

Footsteps coming up the stairs snapped you out of your thoughts. Your eyes met Jungkook’s just as his head came into view from the bottom of the stairs. You were caught off guard by his presence that all you could do was stare wordlessly. He looked amazing, even when his expression was so serious and guarded. The last few steps he took to reach the last stair were slow and hesitant. Soon you were eye to eye, both of you refusing to speak. He kept his hands in his pockets as his tongue rolled on the inside of his cheek.

He cleared his throat, interrupting the loaded silence in the air. “I came up to see what was taking you two so long. Everyone’s waiting downstairs.” He looked everywhere but at your eyes when he spoke. You didn’t doubt that he probably felt guilty about the situation, but you didn’t care about that, not when there was so much unsaid.

“Your finace’s in there crying, you should probably go comfort her.” You kicked off from the door to walk past him, but he caught your arm before you could get away. He kept his grip strong so you couldn’t move, but it’s not like you wanted to anyway, not when you craved his touch and attention. You wanted him to say something, anything that would make your hurting subside.

Jungkook sighed deeply, “Y/N, stop. Please don’t be like this. I know I have a lot of explaining and apologizing to do, but this isn’t the time or place. Please don’t let this change things between us.” He looked into your eyes, searching them for understanding.

“How can this not change anything? You’re getting engaged to my best friend, and you tried to keep it a secret. It’s so fucked up I can’t even begin to try to understand.”

Jungkook sighed again, releasing your arm and turning towards you. He tugged on his locks in frustration. “Do you think I’m happy about this? Do you think this is what I actually want? Y/N… just because I have obligations to fulfill doesn’t make what we have any less real.” Jungkook leans in so close you could smell his intoxicating cologne. You backed up until you hit the wall, but he followed you to it, leaving no space in between your bodies. His firm body pressed up against yours and you placed your hands on his chest in a week attempt to stop him. You held your breath as his cheek brushed against your temple. He breathed in lightly, taking your perfume in as well. His finger reached up and moved your curls out of your face, tipping your chin forward to get a better look at you. You allowed yourself to take his face in and all its features. His lips were parted and so close to yours, your head was swimming. As if reading your mind, Jungkook placed his other hand on the wall for support and went in for a passionate kiss.

His lips ate yours up in unrelenting motion that left you breathless. For a second, you didn’t care about breathing or not, you just wanted more of him. His lips sucked at yours, leaving them wet and swollen. You gasped for air as your tongues immediately found each other and began dancing in between your mouths. The sweet nostalgia of your sunny afternoons spent together, and sweaty lovemaking came flooding back, but instead of joy, they brought a pang of sadness with them. You couldn’t smother the sob that escaped you. Jungkook was too caught up in the passion to notice, so you bit down on his bottom lip hard enough to elicit pain. He backed off and brought his hand to his mouth, staring at you in wonder.

“What we had, Jungkook. I can’t do this with you anymore.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, you were sure you’d start crying, so you bounded down the steps and escaped through the front door. You didn’t stop to say goodbye to everyone, nor check to see if they had noticed you running out. You couldn’t care less if you made a bad impression, you just needed to put as much space as possible in between you and this situation.

On the ride home you wondered if you should stop at Yoongi’s but decided against it. He’d seen enough of you crying for an entire lifetime. As lights and buildings and cars passed you by in the window, you scrolled through Instagram on your phone. It was probably a terrible idea to be on Jungkook’s page, but you were too worn out to fight your urges anymore. After everything that happened tonight, you wondered if it was worth reopening last night’s wound. Did you even get any closure?

You hit the unfollow button and then headed to Jennie’s page and did the same. If they were going through with this, you didn’t want a front-row seat to it. A montage of marriage pictures and future babies played in your head, and you surrendered to the sadness that came with it. You hated them, at least you wanted to believe you did, but the truth was that you were so hurt because you didn’t, not in the least. You exited the Uber and headed into your apartment. You began shedding your clothing on the way to your room. Once you reached your bed you were in nothing but your underwear and your fancy updo. You slid in between the blankets, pulling them up to your chin and staring at the wall in darkness. You must’ve left a window open because the chill in the apartment gave you goosebumps all over, but you couldn’t care about that right now. You were giving in to your feelings, yet the tears didn’t come. All dried out, I guess.

Just as the heaviness of the evening weighed you down, holding you stationary against the mattress, your eyelids began to close. Your breathing evened out and you welcomed the sweet release of sleep. But just before you drifted off, you became vaguely aware of your front door opening and closing, and then your bedroom door doing the same. In the grogginess and surrealism of sleep, you felt two bodies laying on either side of you, warming you up and comforting you for the night.

[sonicrainicorn]

Patton is Berry Done

Part of the Berry Done AU

Words: 4092 Desc.: Logan gets drunk for the first time in his life, and Patton realizes it’s not as fun to be on the other end. TW: Alcohol, cursing, a lot of throwing up (it’s only ever mentioned tho bc ew)

The idea came to me when I was working on the one-shot that was actually supposed to be published. whoops. Hope you like drunk Logan, anyway.

///

One Friday night, Damien invited Patton and Logan over to hang out. Patton, who was very much well aware of what his brother meant by ‘hang out’, asked Thomas if he was willing to babysit. Well -- he asked Logan if he could ask Thomas. Patton was sure that asking Thomas for anything would end in his funeral. Which he understood completely. Though, if you told him last month that Thomas would genuinely threaten to break every bone in his body, he would have thought you were joking. Thomas was the nicest person he knew.

Either way, he agreed and Patton and Logan thanked him again before leaving. When they got there, Damien had already started drinking.

“Rough day at work, then?” Patton asked with a raised brow.

Damien glared at him and let them in the house. Emile and Remy were sitting on the floor, using the coffee table to play a card game. By the looks of it, Emile was winning. And by a lot. A random TV show was on that no one paid attention to. Background noise, then.

“Hi, guys,” Emile chirped. “I win again, by the way.” He flipped the dealer’s -- also known as Damien’s -- card over, nonchalantly taking a sip of wine.

In a great feat of theatrics, Remy fell back and let out a short yell. “How the hell do you win every time?”

“I told you not to play blackjack with him, but you insisted.” Damien rolled his eyes and gathered all the cards. “You should probably stop before he wins everything you own.”

“Damn bastard already has everything I own,” Remy grumbled under their breath.

Emile smiled sweetly at them.

Damien tossed the card pack at Patton, who almost didn’t catch it. “Work did suck if you must know. And I need someone to get drunk with. Remy can’t do it because they work tomorrow and Em doesn’t like to get drunk so...” He looked at Patton like it was obvious. “You definitely weren’t my first option.”

Seems someone was still a little mad. “Why don’t you just go to a bar?” Patton sat next to Emile.

“Because I want to wallow in self-pity in the comfort of my own home.” He crossed his arms. “Will you do it or not?”

“No thanks.” He started shuffling the cards.

Damien groaned dramatically. “You never give me what I want.” A buzzed middle child who was in a Mood didn’t make for good conversation, as it turned out. He turned to Logan. “What about you?”

Patton expected the answer to be the same, he had no reason to doubt otherwise, but then Logan -- Logan who took one shot on his twenty-first birthday and then never drank again, said, “Yeah, I don’t see why not”

“Oh God, yes. Finally.” Damien rushed to the kitchen with a large grin.

Patton stopped shuffling to stare at Logan with what he assumed could be translated as what the actual fuck all over his face.

It seemed to catch Logan’s attention. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You don’t drink.”

“Well, out of the two of us, I’m not the one known for doing regrettable things so I think we’re safe.”

Ooh, yikes. Yeah, that was a hundred percent called for. Patton shifted in his spot and diverted his attention back to the cards. Turns out he didn’t have any more to say.

Emile glanced between them, a small thoughtful frown on his face. He erased it with a shake of his head. “So what are we playing?”

“Poker.”

Remy sat up. “Great. I actually have a chance at this.”

“Did you want to join us, Logan?” Emile sent him a small smile.

“With the way D’s going to drink tonight?”  A sly grin slid across Remy’s face. “ I think he’ll have his hands full already.”

Right on time, Damien came charging back into the room. In his arms were various supplies such as shot glasses, vodka, tequila, and a few different chasers. He set them all on the table. “Wanna match me shot for shot?” He held up the bottle of vodka with an inviting grin.

“No.” Patton snatched it out of his hand.

He made an offended noise akin to a child getting their toy taken away. “Why not?”

“Because I know how many shots you can take and I don’t want you giving my husband alcohol poisoning.”

“Ugh, fine.” He took the bottle back. “For every shot you take, I’ll take a double.”

Patton’s, “That’s not what I meant.” versus Emile's, “You’re already tipsy.” did nothing in comparison to Remy’s much louder, “Do it bitch, you won’t.”

“Alright, bet.” He sat at the unoccupied side of the table.

Emile hit Remy’s shoulder and gave them an ‘are you kidding me?’ look. They simply shrugged in response.

“C’mon, Logan, let’s see how fast we can regret this tomorrow.” He started pouring out the first shots and chasers, eager to get started. The only time Damien was eager to do something was if it caused damage -- be it to property or livers.

Logan sighed, shrugged to himself, and sat next to Damien. Patton watched wearily as he took his first shot. His face screwed up as it burned its way down. Patton could feel the phantom burns in his own throat. Straight vodka wasn’t his favorite, but it was always common at college parties. He knew the motions well. Take the shot, let it burn -- but don’t act like it burns, then sip a chaser if there happens to be one. (Though, if there was one, it was always alcoholic.) Logan didn’t know the ‘etiquette’ of drinking well enough. He reached for the chaser of cranberry juice almost as soon as it went down.

It didn’t matter though. How you took a shot was just style points. At a party surrounded by onlooking strangers? You’re going to need maximum style points for that. At a bar with some friends? Depending on the friends, style points were still important. At home just trying to get drunk? Style wasn’t the point. Besides, Logan wasn’t a drinker so his reaction to straight shots was bound to be expected.

“Oh, yeah, this is gonna suck.” Damien took a sip of his own chaser. “Ready for another round?”

Sometime after the second shot, Logan started getting a little more touchy. He placed hands on Damien’s shoulders, his arm, Patton was sure there was even a thigh at some point. And Damien was all grins and flirty compliments. Patton knew Damien’s drunken states pretty well. He flirted with anyone that wasn’t a brother of his and generally had his charisma cranked up to ten. On the flip side, he also acted like moody a sixteen-year-old. So, really, drunk Damien was just sober Damien with even less of a filter. Logan’s drunk states, on the other hand, were new territories.

By the third shot, Logan was mostly giggles. He and Damien tried to have their usual debates (also known as a normal conversation for them), but they dissolved into Logan laughing over something vaguely related and Damien testing out a pick-up line based on the topic. On the fourth, Logan kissed Patton and called him “the most beautiful man in the world”. Damien got comically offended and insisted that Logan was breaking his heart. Logan laughed, cradled Damien’s face, and called him beautiful too. As soon as the fifth went down, Logan was completely plastered. He put all his weight against Patton with a loose hand around Damien’s wrist. He started talking about how great everyone was, though he struggled to find more than three adjectives and slurred all his words.

“Nope, that’s enough.” Patton tried to take the bottle out of Damien’s hands when he went to pour another shot, but he couldn’t move with Logan at his side.

Remy took the initiative. “Unfortunately, I have to agree. Logan can’t handle anymore.”

Damien pouted and put his head in his hand. “Boo.”

“That actually took a bit longer than I expected,” Emile admitted softly.

“Yeah -- damn, Logan.” Remy put the cap back on the bottle. “For someone who doesn’t drink you sure held out for a while.”

Logan held up a peace sign.

“Okay, I think we better get going.” Patton lifted Logan to his feet. It was a bit harder than it sounded due to Logan’s apparent lack of bone structure. He refused, or maybe simply couldn’t, move or stand on his own. He kept all his weight on Patton the whole time.

“I think that’s a good idea.” Emile wrangled another bottle out of Damien’s hands. “Stop. Any more and you’ll be asking Logan to marry you.”

Damien snorted. A lazy grin slithered on his face. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

Patton frowned, holding Logan a little closer to his side.

Emile sighed -- an annoyed, almost aggressive sound. “Yeah, okay. Come on. We’re done for tonight.” He dragged Damien into the kitchen, ignoring how he almost face planted.

“Ignore him.” Remy shook their head like a disappointed parent. They gave Patton a small smile. Not a grin or a smirk -- a gentle, genuine smile. “Anyway, want some help? Seems like you could use it.”

“That would be nice, actually.”

Logan clung to Remy like a koala to a tree almost as soon as all his weight was transferred over. Right away he started saying all the great things he thought about them and the good things they did. Remy just nodded and agreed while gently coercing him into a better walking position. Patton silently apologized and opened the front door.

On the short walk to the car, everything Logan said was followed by a soft, “I know, Logan.” or an, “Uh-huh.” much like someone would do when they’re half-listening to a child while focusing on another task. Patton would argue that the comparison was more than apt since most of the stuff Logan said seemed to be the first draft.

Patton opened the passenger side door and Remy helped Logan in. They went to close the door, but stopped when Logan said, “I love you.”

They laughed, borderline composed giggles, and responded, “Love you too, pal.” They shut the door. Logan waved at them through the window, and they gave him a little wave back. “Wow, he is fucking trashed.” They turned to Patton with a wide grin. “I’m surprised he’s still conscious.”

“Guess we’ll see how long that lasts.” He looked at Logan, who gave him a bright beam. “I should go before his body realizes he hasn’t thrown up yet.”

“Oh, yeah. Drive safe.”

“Will do.”

Almost as soon as Patton got in the car, Logan blurted out, “If you could drive straight up at sixty miles an hour, it would take an hour to get to space.”

Patton didn’t even have the door closed yet. “W... what?”

He repeated it a little slower, though that seemed to leave a lot more room for errors and slurring. “If you could drive your car up-ards it would take an hour to getta space.”

He blinked. “That’s, uh, that’s really interesting, bumblebee.” He shut the door. “Could you maybe put on your seat belt before telling me more facts? Unless you need some help.”

“M’not five.” Despite his statement, Logan struggled with the necessary coordination for an absurd amount of time. After failing to get the buckle in the right spot (following an embarrassing number of attempts), he gave up with a small pout. “I can’t do it.”

Patton smiled a bit. He looked like a grumpy toddler. “Let me help, hon.” He buckled him in.

Once they started driving, Logan did not stop talking. He told Patton he loved him five different times, asked nonsense questions followed by silly answers, and pointed out whatever he saw looking out the window. He also insisted on having a hand near Patton at all times despite Patton saying he needed to focus on driving. He was so much more open and bubbly and touchy -- very touchy. A near 180 of sober Logan.

They only had to stop for him to throw up on the side of the road once, which was a lot more impressive than the first time Patton ever got drunk. At least from what friends told him. He didn’t remember anything about that night, but he was told that he threw up several times before ever reaching his apartment. To be fair, he was eighteen at the time and trying to impress someone cute. He didn’t remember if it worked or not.

After his little vomit issue, Logan was a bit less energetic. Understandably so. Throwing up always sucked. But throwing up after a night of drinking was even worse. It didn’t stop him from saying how much he loved Patton, though.

When Patton pulled in the driveway, he cursed under his breath. He forgot about Thomas. With Logan drunk out of his mind and extremely pliable, there was no doubt Thomas’s protective older brother instincts would take over. Patton tried to figure out what to say that wouldn’t result in his head on a pike.

“Come on, hon.” He helped Logan out of the car. Once again, all of his weight was against Patton. “Your brother’s gonna kill me for this, isn’t he?”

There seemed to be a magic word in there that caused Logan’s energy to return tenfold. A large grin split across his face and Patton could have sworn there were stars in his eyes. “Thomas is here.”

Okay, Logan getting excited to see Thomas was actually pretty cute. Patton smiled. “Yeah, baby, Thomas is here. Did you wanna see him?”

Logan nodded, almost cartoonish in nature.

“Let’s get inside, then.” While Patton wasn’t at all prepared to see Thomas, he couldn’t deny Logan what he wanted. That would just be cruel.

He struggled to open the door with Logan hanging off of his arm, but he managed. Thomas was laying on the couch watching Parks and Rec on a low volume. His attention diverted from that rather quickly. Almost right away, he was on his feet to reach Patton and Logan. Patton didn’t know why he was surprised. He had to admit that it was a little obvious Logan wasn’t his top-notch self.

Logan detached himself from Patton and all but collapsed into Thomas’s arms before anyone had a chance to say anything. “Thomas,” he said, a little too loud, “you’re amazing. You’re the best -- best brother I could ever ask for. And I... I love you so much.” He squished Thomas’s face with his hands. “I apre... pre-shate all you ever done. You’re so ‘mazing. I owe you so much. You a’ways make me ‘appy a-and you stick by me no matter what. You’re -- you’re just really great.” He gave him a tight hug.

Thomas stared at Patton, dumbfounded. “What... did you do to him?”

Patton held his hands up in defense faster than he could blink. “This was his own doing. I played no part in it.”

“Damien and I took shots,” Logan answered, partially muffled by Thomas’s shoulder.

“You did what?” Thomas pulled him away to look at his face. “How many did you take?”

“Five,” Patton answered. He knew full well Logan lost track.

“Five?” Thomas struggled to keep his voice down. He cradled Logan’s face. “Logan, you don’t drink. What are you doing taking five shots? Shots of what?”

“Mostly vodka.”

If Thomas’s eyes could get wider, they would have. “Vodka? Straight? Dude, how the hell are you still standing?” He checked over Logan as if the answer would be there somehow. “Why would you do something like that?”

Logan shrugged. “Damien wanted’ta get drunk.”

Princess Leia wandered into the living room, shaking herself out of her sleepiness. Her tail wagged as soon as she saw that her other owners were home.

Logan gasped loudly. “There’s my baby.” He fell to his knees to give her attention. “You’re such a good girl. Yes, you are.” He continued to coo and give her pets and scratches.

“I’m... I’m gonna scream. I’m going to actually scream.” Thomas ran his hands down his face. “There’s no way I’m leaving.”

“Leia, no. Go back to the boys.” Patton pried Logan away from her. “Go. Now.” He pointed out the doorway.

She obeyed after visible hesitation.

Patton worked on lifting Logan to his feet. “Look, I’m going to keep an eye on him. You’re free to stay if you want, but I promise I’m going to make sure he’s okay.” He kept him at his side. “I won’t let anything happen to him. He’ll be fine if you leave.”

Thomas crossed his arms. Patton recognized the face he made almost immediately. It was the same one Logan made when he weighed all possible options. That hard, calculating gaze was something they shared well. “Fine. But I’m calling first thing in the morning.”

Holy shit. He actually agreed? This was the greatest achievement of Patton’s life.

“If I find out anything happened, I’m pushing you down a flight of stairs.”

“If anything happens, I’ll fall down the stairs myself.”

Thomas smirked a little. “I’ll hold you to it.” He patted his pockets to see if he had everything. “Alright. The twins were lovely, as usual, and I look forward to the next time I get to see them. Goodnight -- keep my brother safe,” he pointed at Patton, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Wait, you’re leaving?” Logan sounded like a sad little boy who was told he couldn’t get the one toy he wanted for Christmas.

Thomas sent him a small smile. “I’m afraid so, bear. Patton’s going to be looking after you, okay?” He brushed Logan’s bangs to the side and gave him a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll see you later.”

Logan watched him go with the most disappointment Patton had ever seen on his face. He half expected Thomas to change his mind because of it.

“Okay, sweetheart, we’re going to get you some water then you’re going straight to bed.” He led them to the kitchen.

Unfortunately, Logan had to throw up one more time. Or a few times, rather. That seemed to be the end of the fun alcohol adventure. Patton made sure he was finished before giving him more water. On their way to the bedroom, Patton was stopped by a sleepy voice.

“Dad?” Roman called. He sounded half-asleep. “S’everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Your daddy’s just a little sick. Go back to sleep.” He made sure there wouldn’t be any more questions before continuing. He closed the door to the bedroom so Leia wouldn’t get in. As much as Logan loved to have her in here, she wouldn’t be very helpful.

He helped Logan into a clean shirt and guided him to bed. “I’ll be next door if you need something, okay, dear?” He slipped off his glasses. “Get some sleep.”

“Don’t.” Logan caught his wrist before he could leave. “Can’t you stay?” He looked at Patton with such vulnerability it sort of hurt to see.

“Only if you want me to.”

“Please.”

God, Patton couldn’t say no to that face. He slipped into his side of the bed for the first time in way too long. Of course the one night he’s allowed back is the one night Logan isn’t fully cognizant of his actions. In a way, it was almost poetic.

Logan buried his face into Patton’s chest almost immediately. He sighed in contentment, one arm thrown over Patton’s waist for good measure.

Patton hesitated before bringing him closer. The anxious part of his brain insisted that Logan would somehow snap out of this and scream at Patton to get away from him. After all, Logan didn’t invite him back sooner for a reason. But that didn’t happen. Logan seemed more than happy to be so close.

“You know,” he began, already sounding sleepy, “I love you a lot. Maybe too much. You could hurt me all you want and I’d still take you back. If you say sorry. And maybe that’s bad, but I think that’s what I would do. I love you too much to let you go.”

Oh, no. Oh, Logan. Patton kissed the top of his head and tried not to break down into tears. That wasn’t what he wanted to hear at all. He hoped, maybe, it was some sort of drunken nonsense, but he had a sickening feeling it wasn’t. He hated knowing this. He hated knowing that the crap he pulled -- that stupid, idiotic mistake that broke Logan’s heart -- wouldn’t have been the nail in the coffin of their relationship. As angry as Logan was, as upset as he was, he always planned to give Patton a second chance. It wasn’t comforting to know that.

If Patton was a lesser man than he already was, he would have used that to his advantage. He would have screwed Logan over, again and again, knowing he would be able to come back if he acted sorry enough. But someone already did that before, didn’t they?

Patton didn’t want to be anything like that person. He wanted to be as far away from them as he could get because Logan deserved someone so much better than that. Maybe the person he deserved wasn’t even Patton at all, but Patton was the person he chose. The least he could do was be a good husband. Logan deserved that and a million more things. He deserved to think more highly of himself, for one. One problem at a time, though, the most immediate problem would be the hangover tomorrow.

Patton woke up with a start. 

For a moment, he didn’t believe he was in his bedroom, but then he recalled the night before. He didn’t remember falling asleep. He still had his clothes and glasses on. Then he noticed he was alone. Before he could come up with a possible scenario, he heard throwing up in the bathroom. Uh oh. It wasn’t even morning yet.

He hurried down the hall. “Are you okay, bumblebee?” He asked from the doorway.

Logan glared at him from his hunched-over position. That answered that, then.

“Is Daddy okay?”

Patton turned to see Virgil, asleep on his feet. “What are you doing up?”

“I lost rock paper scissors.” He yawned.

“Daddy isn’t feeling well tonight. He’ll be fine --” he caught himself before he said ‘tomorrow’. There was no way in hell Logan would be functional tomorrow -- “later. Now go back to sleep. I have it handled.”

Virgil didn’t need to be told twice.

Patton sat with Logan until he finished throwing up. He knew from experience what a miserable time this was, but that also meant he knew how to make it more manageable. He gave Logan things to settle his stomach then practically carried him back to bed. They both fell asleep in no time at all.

When morning came, Patton called out of work. He also called Thomas to take the twins and Princess Leia. There was no way he was leaving Logan’s side today. Judging from the late-night vomiting, and heavy sleeping, this would be a rough first hangover. He decided to sit in bed and scroll through random apps until Logan decided to wake up.

“Oh my God,” Logan groaned. He rolled over so his face would be in his pillow.

Patton couldn’t help the smirk that played at his lips. “Well, good morning, sleeping beauty. How do you feel?”

“I think I’m dying.”

“I can assure you you’re not.” He put away his phone and laid back down. “It’s just a hangover. You’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

Logan groaned again. He moved his head to look at Patton. “How do you never feel like this after drinking?”

“Years of practice.”

“Oh, well, I’m definitely not getting that.” He flipped over and threw an arm over his eyes. “That’s the last time I drink anything ever.”

Patton smiled in amusement. “How much do you remember?”

“Honestly? I blacked out after the second shot.”

“That explains why you kept going.”

Logan shot up, eyes wide. “I kept going?” That clearly wasn’t the right move. He grimaced and curled in on himself, a wounded sound leaving his throat. “Why the hell didn’t you stop me?”

“Do you really think I’m in a position to stop you from doing anything?”

“Fair point.” Logan laid back down as slowly as possible. “God, this is the worst.” He bumped his fingers against Patton’s.

“Well,” Patton took his hand, “I’m here to help you through it.”

~~~

@actitus-hypoleucos

[50-percent-winchester-sister]

The Emo Phase Part 2

PART TWO OF THE EMO PHASE

This is so fluffy its killing me!

Prompt: While still being grounded because of you got suspended, you surprise your brothers on Fathers Day

Dean: 26

Sam: 22

Y/N: 15

Word Count: 1,986

  Sam grounded you for two weeks because you got suspended, reasonably grounding, but still, you don't like being grounded. I mean they're your brothers, not your parents. Nonetheless, they raised you since you were 4, that's when your mother took Adam, your twin brother, and abandoned you, so you had to live with Sam, Dean, and your dad, John. John died when you were 7, and since Dean was 18 at the time, he decided to legally 'adopt' you, adoption papers and all.

  Its already been a week since you were grounded and honestly, everything's going better then you thought it would.

I mean, Sam and Dean have been nice to you, you're back talking was kept to a minimum, the teenage angst was cut short since you didn't want to be grounded longer than need be, and Father's Day was tomorrow, so you planned on tomorrow being a good day. You planned everything out. You're their not your dad's, but hey they've been like your dad's since you were 4, so the least you can do is show them you still love and care for them, right?

  You wake up early, 4:30, which is an hour and 30 minutes before Sam goes out to run. You called Jody to bring the good beer that Dean used to drink and to get Sams's favorite coffee beans. You waited outside for Jody when you see her cop car park in the gravel outside the Bunker. "

They'll catch on Y/N, you know that" "Not unless I am subtle about it Jody, you know me, master of getting what I want." Jody laughs a bit, you two hug and she leaves.

You got about 40 minutes before Sam wakes up, perfect. You clean up the bunker, the living room, the kitchen, your room, and the library. you got 10 minutes left, so you start making the coffee and the 'green juice' for Sam, (health freak eugh).

You start making breakfast for the boys when you hear Sams door open, you jump a little, nervous about what he's gonna say.

  "Mornin' Sunshine," you say to Sam with a genuine grin on your face. Usually, Sam says that to you so confused he says "What are you doing up so early?" "Nothin' just woke up early, breakfast before you go?" Sam sits down when you hand him his crappy green juice and a plate of eggs, toast, and sausage. "Thank you?" He says confusingly.

"Oh Dean, I made breakfast, want some?" "Sure?"

You hand him his plate of food and a bottle of the good beer. "How did you get this?"

"Hmm? Oh, I asked Jody to get it, why?" "How did you call her, we took your phone away" "You know we have something called a home phone, right?" you say as you giggle afterward. 10 minutes later Sam goes out for his run and Dean goes to the library to do research.

"What the-" Dean says as he sees the exact books he was going to pull out on the table. "Y/N, get in here!" Dean yells for Y/N in a worrying tone. "Yeah?"

"Did you do this?" You look at the books, smile and say "Oh yeah, I heard you and Sam talking about the case last night, so I decided to help you out." At this point Deans getting concerned, "Why?" "You love asking questions, do you?" You walk away and you hear the bunker door open, Sam's home!

  "Sammy, just in time, look!" You pull something from under the counter, its Kopi luwak, Sams' favorite coffee, it's pretty expensive, but you snatched it at the right time. "Woah Y/N, how did you get that?" "Well I had enough money, Jody just picked it up for me" you nervously says while scratching the back of your neck. "Are you okay Y/N?" "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" "You aren't yourself today. What? are you trying to get out of being grounded huh?" "Sam that's not why"

you way while laughing, "I just wanted to do something nice for you guys, that's all." Walking away you hear Sam sigh, but in actuality, he is...worried?

Isn't he supposed to be happy? Of all days you would think that. Its 3:45 PM and you had a bright idea, do the laundry, Sam and Dean went out to get lunch so its a perfect plan! You first go into Sams' room, and then to Dean's room to snag up their clothes. The wash and drying machine is in the garage so you head over there.

Once you're done you bring their clean clothes back up to their rooms and you hear the Bunker door open. What a coincidence! you thought.

  "Babe were home" Sam yells for you. You love it when he calls you babe, and when Dean calls you baby girl, you get all happy inside. "Coming!" you run downstairs and into the kitchen. "we got food from Silver Skillet, hope that's okay," says Dean whos putting the food on the counter, "Fine by me." You, Sam and Dean, sit at the kitchen table and just talked about research and the upcoming case that you three will be on in a few days, grounded as it may, Sam or Dean isn't just gonna let you not go hunting, that'll set you off more than anything.

"So, when are we leaving?" You ask and Dean answers with a "Tomorrow morning, it'll be a 10-hour drive so don't get all pissy if we don't stop at a motel." "Dean!" Sam retaliates, "Were getting a motel, it's not like we're just gonna sleep in the Impala" Sam says to both you and Dean.

"It's all cool really if its as easy as we think it is, we can just go there and come right back, 2 days tops, right?" You get up and throw away yours and the boys trash, "Will you guys be here for dinner?" "Yeah, of course, wouldn't miss it," Dean says and you smile, walking away. "Good now that's she's gone, what the hell is she doing Sam?" "I don't know Dean, I mean making breakfast, getting you beer" "Getting you that shitty green shit, getting you that coffee I can't pronounce" "Kopi luwak?" "however the hell you say it, yes" "I mean she also cleaned up the bunker, getting you those books, doing our laundry?"

"Should we be worried, Sammy?"

"Ever since we-" "you" "WE grounded her, there has been less talkback and sass" "Well of fuckin course, you yelling and getting all mad scares her man. but even if, shes been overly nice today." "Is she trying to get ungrounded? ha cause it ain't workin'" "she says she isn't, but I don't know Dean"

"Well, let's see how this rolls out tomorrow and well talk to her okay? don't get a panic attack over something that most likely nothing Sammy"

"Yeah okay," Sam says looking around the cleaned kitchen.

Dean knocks on your door, and you open it with a smile, "Yeah, what?" "Me and Sammy are gonna help out Charlie with whatever, she called us for whatever reason, you need anything while we're gone?" "No I'm good, you two are gonna be back for dinner right?" "wouldn't miss it babygirl" Dean kisses your forehead and Sam comes up and hugs you too "Well be back soon Babe don't worry okay?' "Okay Sam, love you two"

its 6:00 PM and their still and Charlie's. Your getting worried when you decide to text Sam

Babes: you two still at Charlie's?

Sammy Pu: Yeah we are, we'll try to be back for dinner

Babes: Sam?

Sammy Pu: Yes Y/N?

Babes: Be safe okay?

Sam loves it when you worry for them, its cute really. you're growing out of your 'emo phase' so this means everything to him

Sammy Pu: We will, we miss you

Babes: I miss you two too <3

"Were you talking to Y/N, Sam?" Charlie asks, "How is she, she still grounded?" "Yeah I was, she's doing better as Winchesters can get, and yeah she's still grounded, she's got a week left and honestly, she's behaving better than I thought."

"That sucks. sorry for asking you guys here today of all days, you should be spending time with Y/N instead of me. Sam and Dean look at each other confusingly, "Why is that" Dean asks, "Well its fathers day, and me being an idiot took you two from her."

oh...

OH!

That's why you were being annoyingly nice today. Sam quickly turns to Dean a worrying face. "Son of a bitch" Dean commented. "I'm sorry we got to get back to the bunker," Sam says to Charlie while Dean goes to the impala and starts it up. "No it's okay really, no offense taken."

"Dean you're driving a little too fast we-"

"Sam it doesn't fucking matter right now, we promised well be home for dinner and were going to do just that!"

You just finished dinner when you hear the bunker door slam open, worried you grab your gun and when you heard a "Y/N?" that sounded like Sam, you put your gun away. "Sam? Dean? are you two o-" you didn't finish your sentence when Sam runs towards you and gives you the biggest hug you've gotten from him, Dean goes behind you and hugs you too' "-kay? What's going on?"

"Were so sorry we left for so long" Sam says, "At least we made it right?" Dean commented. "Yeah of course, in fact, you two aren't late, you're right on time." Dean scoffs and adds, "No you just made dinner too late, were the late ones" "No arguing, let's just eat," Sam says while walking to the kitchen.

  You, Sam and Dean, sit at the kitchen table and eat in a bit of silence before Sam questions you. "So, when were you gonna tell us?" "Hmm? What, that its fathers day? Never I guess, not a big deal, right?"

"Y/N its a huge deal, I mean come on, you're Y/N, having parents isn't your style" Dean lightly laughs.

"Well," you start to look down at your hands, then back up at your brothers. "Don't think I'm weird."

"Trust me we think that all the time." "Dean! What is it, babe?"

You look down at your hands again, too embarrassed but you start talking.

  "Ever since I was 7 you two have been there for me, It's not every day you hear of a family that only consists of two older brothers and a younger sister and that it, but that's normal for me. Knowing my mom is still alive but not here is normal for me. Dad being....gone is actually normal for me now. You two are the only ones who actually want me around. You two were there for me since I was 4 years old. Dean, you got me interested in drawing and the drums, Sam you got me into the violin and dancing. I was a total bitch to raise, I know and just randomly being the nicest kid on earth was probably stressful. I don't know, I mean.." You look up at them. "You're my brothers I get that, but you guys have been better parents, better fathers than Dad ever was to me I guess, I'm sorry.."

  You looked away when you said 'I'm sorry'. silence took over and you felt like you were going to have a nervous breakdown. You start to get up and walk to your room when "Y/N.." You heard Sam's voice crack, oh god no.

You turn around, your voice cracking too. "Sam, Dean, I-"

Right when you turn around you see Sams puppy dog eyes glisten with tears, hell Deans too. Fuck.

Tears start to prick the sides of your eyes when you walk back towards them. "-I love you guys" You way while embarrassingly, but happily crying.

  "We love you too Y/N" they both said in unison

[vikingpoteto]

we don’t have to dance (to the beat of their songs)

Chapter 5 on AO3

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Relationships:  (Gen) Tim Drake & Jason Todd

Tags: Battle for the Cowl, Alternate Canon, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Mental Health Issues, Past Child Neglect, Domestic Fluff, Canon is not valid I am, and I want them to be friends goddamnit

Summary: In the middle of their battle, Jason asks Tim to leave the nest and be his Robin. Tim decides it's not a bad idea, after all.

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Jason Todd is many things. A street rat. A literature nerd. A former hero. A crime-lord. Dealing with anger issues. Ignoring a whole lot of other issues. But he isn’t an idiot. And, while he’s been bamboozled more times he can count, he realizes Tim Drake is a bigger conundrum than he anticipated. He isn’t about to be fooled again.

He thought he had Tim figured out. Rich kid. Too smart for his own good. Smug beyond repair. No regard for his own well-being. Incapable of holding grudges. He thought the kid couldn’t surprise him, not in a way that mattered, until that first night.

That’s when he starts taking note of the small things.

Saturday is uneventful. Jason wishes he could say he forgets he isn’t living alone anymore, but, even though Tim makes little to no noise as he sleeps the morning away, Jason is painfully aware that he has a roommate. He can’t focus on his book, he can’t focus on the absurdly detailed report Tim made him. He definitely can’t focus on anything else after Tim flies down the stairs like a speedster, blurts out something that could’ve been good morning and disappears in the kitchen. Jason heads to his room, assuming the kid is getting himself breakfast, and he tries to take a nap. He fails.

After giving up and heading downstairs to make dinner, he finds the kitchen as clean as he left — did Tim do the dishes? Did he eat at all? — and he can barely hear faint noises downstairs. He makes a mental note to fix the sound proofness of his walls as he climbs down.

In his Office, like Jason calls it, he finds Tim wearing headphones. The music is loud enough that Jason can clearly hear muffled heavy metal. The computer is half dismantled, half loading something somehow, and Tim is carefully tinkering with the suit Jason gave him.

Instead of throwing something at him like he wants to, Jason walks into his field of view and waves at his face. Tim takes off the headphones.

“The fuck you doing?” Jason asks.

“Fixing stuff. I know you love Jane Austen, but do you have to use the same software she used to write?”

Jason punches him in the shoulder. He regrets it instantly and curses at himself inwardly. Tim, however, doesn’t even flinch. He snickers as though that was the reaction he expected.

Huh. Jason files that away for later analysis.

He gets Tim to suit up and they head out for the night.

They don’t go together per se, as Red Hood is still laying low, planting the seeds subtly so no one notices until he’s ready to make an entrance. He gets intel. Ruins the plan of a very misguided small dealer. And finally saves a pair of prostitutes from a harasser. He wears nothing but a domino mask all night, because there are only a few key players that must know Red Hood is back. He smiles at the girls after he’s done and they get excited asking him if he’s the Red Hood. He takes off without answering.

Red Hood has always been popular with prostitutes, as weird as that sounds. What can Jason say? The girls that worked near the street he grew up in were the nicest people he knew; he has a soft spot for them.

He meets up with Tim near the end of the night and he finds that Tim’s spoken reports are a lot briefer than his written ones: he stopped some muggings. Probably broke the kneecaps of some creep near the park. Confirmed intel he got from his research. He actually saved a cat stuck on a tree too, which makes Jason roll his eyes. They go back to Jason’s place without further ado.

Sunday is more of the same, except Jason manages to actually sleep. That is, until the sound of a hammer wakes him up.

He finds Tim in his living room dismantling an old television he got from God knows where. The shouting match that follows should make things more awkward, but instead it makes them easier.

Turns out Tim doesn’t mind exchanging insults or having dusty pillows thrown at him, and Jason feels more at ease by the time they swallow cold sandwiches and head out.

He has this unreasonable pang of anxiety when Tim vanishes into the shadows, but he shakes it off. The Red Robin suit is getting better everyday and, thanks to the cowl, Tim looks older and more menacing than he actually is, meaning no one is going to fuck with him.

It’s fine. They have a plan. It’s working. There are rumors that Hood is back, though nothing but whispers. Enough to stir his territory without getting unwanted attention from the better neighborhoods.

It isn’t until Monday at around 1pm that the other shoe drops. Jason wakes up scratching his belly and walks past Tim on the way to the kitchen.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” Tim mumbles.

“Fuck off, Replacement,” he says back.

The kid is fucking with something that smells like oil on the kitchen table. Jason thinks to himself he should have words with him about it… after his morning tea. Morning tea at 1pm, but still.

He’s boiling water and staring blankly at Tim when he realizes: it’s Monday.

“Wait, what the fuck are you doing here?”

Tim stares at him. Back at the myriad of circuits spread around the table. Then back at Jason

“Wrist computer,” he says.

“No, here !”

“The kitchen?”

“Home! You’re, like, 17, right? Shouldn’t you be at school?”

Tim stares at him as though he’s grown a second head. “Jason. I don’t know how to tell you this, but I stopped going to school after my father died again and I traveled abroad to work with an organization of murderers.”

“That was a fucking month ago. You get a month of skipped classes, your dad died. Now that you’re here, you can go back.”

His chin actually drops and Jason is greeted by the sight of a nearly white chewed gum threatening to fall from Tim’s open mouth.

“I’m not going back to high school. Are you insane?”

“Are you insane? Of course you’re going back to school. Don’t you have, I don’t know, friends or a girlfriend or… whatever!”

“No, I don’t?” Tim scowls. “You want me to go to school so I can date? Why don’t you go to school?”

“Everyone thinks I’m dead.”

“Oh, heck off, you don’t get to pull the death card with me,” Tim rolls his eyes. “It works with Dick and Bruce, but I’m immune.”

“The fact that you still say heck off means you definitely should be at school around people your age. Get some bullies. It builds character.”

Tim’s pale cheeks go crimson and Jason has to bite back a grin. Knowing that Tim blushes like that opens so many teasing opportunities.

“Shut up, I got used to it because Alfred got mad at us for cursing! And I don’t need school to get bullied, I have you right here.”

Jason decides to test a theory. It’s a wicked idea, but Jason isn’t known for fighting fair.

“Tim. I ain’t raising an uneducated goblin.”

“I’m seventeen ! You’re not fucking raising me! You’re like a muscular child sharing a place with a slightly smaller child!”

“If you don’t go back to school, the deal is off. I’m not keeping you around.”

And, just like that, Tim closes his mouth and all the color drains from his face. Jason expected this. He doesn’t feel great about it.

“Y-you… Dick will notice if I start going back to school,” he tries. “This is against the plan. Batman will know we’re working together.”

“No. He’ll know you’re back in town. Make an excuse. I know you’re great at it.”

“This will affect my productivity. I won’t be able to upgrade your gear as fast and I’ll have to sleep more. This is-”

“Non-negotiable. School or no partnership.”

Jason knows it’s too late for him. It might be too late for Tim, too. But not late enough that Jason will let him give up. Tim may never have a normal life - the fact that he’s working with his almost murderer more than proves it. Jason selfishly wants to make sure he has at least a little normality.

This is about Jason, not Tim. Jason doesn’t think he can live with another deadman walking.

“Fine,” Tim says, like he’s agreeing to a death sentence. “I’m going back to school tomorrow. You happy?”

“Hella,” Jason says.  He turns back to his tea. “And Tim? I’ll know if you’re skipping and I’ll kill you if you do.”

Tim starts listing a colorful collection of insults a lot worse than heck off. Jason grins at him and Tim, in his teenage rage, doesn’t seem to notice that the smile doesn’t reach Jason’s eyes.

So Jason's theory is confirmed. Tim Drake doesn’t care about attempts on his life. He isn’t afraid to fight an armed man. He isn’t afraid of having a familiar person taking a swing at him, so Jason doesn’t think that he has issues with physical abuse.

Nothing freaks him out as much as someone critiquing his work, though. And not in the asshole way, that would be way too easy. As cocky as he is, Tim doesn’t look like the type to think he can do no wrong. He wouldn’t get irrationally angry over someone pointing out he can do better. He does, however, flip out at the mere possibility that he’s done something wrong and didn’t own up to it already.

Jason thought he knew Tim until he jokingly complained about him sleeping on the job and saw genuine horror in his eyes. Horror like never before, not even when Jason beat him and tried to leave him for dead. Hell, at that point the kid said he was a better Robin right before passing out.

Who did this to him, Jason wonders? Who convinced Tim that the worst he can be isn’t a high school dropout or even a dead boy, but a person who messes up?  His biological parents? Bruce? Is Tim even aware of it?

Jason doesn’t know, and he isn't sure what to do about it. Can he do something about it? He remembers far too well, thinking Bruce brought him in because he wanted another Robin. How every time he made Bruce laugh, or solved a case, it felt like a victory. How every time he got scolded, he expected Bruce to send him back to where he came from. He remembers having that fear confirmed when he heard from Talia that he’d been replaced.

Is there really something to be done?

Despite a good deal of complaining about work hours, Tim starts going to school. Jason hounds him to make sure he isn’t lying and he’s pretty sure he’ll have to keep checking regularly, because, if he learned anything about Tim, is that the kid is scarily patient and spiteful.

He stalks him all the way to school on the first day, making it painfully obvious that he’s there even if Tim puts a lot of effort into pretending he can’t see him. He pops at Tim’s classroom window and waves cheerfully as Tim flips the bird at him. Waking up early was hell, but Jason finds it ridiculously fun to make Tim annoyed.

On Friday, Jason decides to pick Tim up after class just to keep him on his toes… then he almost crashes his motorcycle into a lamppost when he sees a fancy car and a familiar man leaning against it.

Dick Grayson.

Despite the fun distractions Jason came up with, his whole damn body still remembers the beating he took. He wonders if Dick took as long to recover after that night.

His fake second death would be really short-lived but, lucky for him, Dick is preoccupied with something else. Jason parks around the corner. His height wouldn’t allow him to hide among the flux of rich kids walking out of school looking for their chauffeurs, but he has to come closer.

Well, time to get those stealthy muscles to work.

Ironically, it was Dick who taught him that the best hiding spot was in plain sight, and that’s how he casually walks behind the sports car and heads towards a beaten phone booth.

Dick doesn’t notice him.

Whether it was thanks to Jason’s skills or the fact that the older man looks like he’s having an internal anxiety attack, Jason may never find out. He does, however, hear it when Tim’s voice lets out a long word that definitely isn’t heck . He risks taking a peek at the duo and sees Dick smiling. He looks tired.

“Timbo,” he greets.

“Don’t call me that,” Tim groans. He would’ve sounded like your everyday grumpy teenager, but there’s too much tension in his jaw.

“Welcome back,” Dick says. “Were you planning on telling anyone you’re around?”

“I’m assuming you don’t mind, since you kept paying for my school. I was also checking to see how long it’d take you to find out.”

Jason almost snorts. Who knew the kid had it in him? Furthermore, it’s impressive how Tim methodically and deliberately hid all signs of displeasure. He looks earnestly happy to see Dick and he almost makes his barb sound like friendly banter.

“Timmy, you were gone for almost two months. Where were you?”

“I was pursuing a lead. It didn’t pan out. So I’m back.”

Dick is quiet after that. Jason assumes he knows damn well Tim isn’t one to give up just like that. At the same time, Jason can see Dick assessing the differences between the kid in front of him and the kid he last saw.

“Let’s go home. We need to talk,” he says finally.

“Sorry, I can’t. I’m heading to a friend’s house so we can do homework together. I have a lot to catch up.”

“Tim…”

“You were right, Dick.” Tim smiles softly. “Damian needs you now. I don’t.”

Dick flinches. “I didn’t mean…”

“I know,” he chuckles. “Let me rephrase that: I’m fine. You know, when you first asked me to help Bruce, I planned on staying for a few months. A year, tops. I was always supposed to go back to my normal life.”

“Timmy, you’re family,” Dick pleads. “Your normal life doesn’t include going home?”

Tim’s expression is empty of emotion when he replies: “I need space now. I’m not going back, Dick. I’m sorry. I have a place to stay. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“ Where are you staying? Do you need help setting up anything or…”

“I’ll text you the address later. Right now I really need to go, though.”

Dick presses his lips into a tight line. He hesitates before reaching out to hug him. Surprisingly to Jason, Tim allows it and even hugs him back, even if not as tightly as Dick does.

Jason didn’t realize that. The whole time, he thought Tim needed his older brother and Dick was painfully blind to it. It never occurred to him how Dick also needed Tim. He wonders if Dick felt lost when Tim went away, or if he realized how messed up it was to rely on a teenager.

And Jason’s file on Wayne drama keeps growing thicker.

“Come over for dinner tomorrow?” Dick tries again. “Alfie misses you.”

“And annoy Damian in the process? I’d love to.” Tim deadpans.

Dick finally pulls away from the hug. “He’s made a lot of progress. You’d be surprised.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t remember I punched him before I left.”

“Tim. Dinner?”

“Why would I say no to free food?” Tim gives him a crooked smile.

Dick moves as though it’s painful to let Tim go. He retreats to his car as slowly as it’s humanly possible, like he expects Tim to change his mind and join him. Tim smiles and waves until Dick vanishes around the corner. His look turns hollow, but none of the kids walking past him seems to notice it. Not even when Tim calls out:

“You can come out now. He’s really gone.”

Jason pretends not to hear two girls letting out startled little squeals when he leaves his hiding spot.

“That was cold blooded, Replacement,” Jason says, stretching his hand to Tim. “I knew you were a liar, but that was impressive.”

Without blinking, Tim takes out a tracker from the collar of his shirt and another from his hair. He hands both to Jason. “I didn’t lie, mostly,” he says. “I did plan on leaving after Bruce got better. Or at least when we found a better replacement. That didn’t work like I expected.”

Jason doesn’t say anything as he casually crushes one of the trackers under his boot and places the other on a random kid passing by. He knows how magical it feels to be Robin. He doesn’t think he could quit out of free will. He still remembers the addicting adrenaline that makes you feel like you’re really a bird soaring across the sky.

Until you’re not.

He notices it when Tim looks down at his own feet. Without thinking, he reaches for Tim’s head and messes up his hair.

“C’mon. I got the parts you asked. You can finish tinkering your suit tonight.”

They take the night off. It’s too risky going patrolling the night Dick found out about Tim’s return. Instead, they sit in the living room and Jason turns on the TV while Tim finishes adjusting the suit. The documentary about fish only keeps Jason’s attention for about five minutes before he notices Tim is butchering his cowl. Of course they start bickering.

The new mask isn’t quite a domino. It still has a nose guard similar to a bird’s beak that creates the illusion that Tim’s nose is more aquiline rather than a small snub, which is good to hide one’s identity. Still, Jason thinks going out without head protection is fucking stupid and Tim goes on a rant about looking like he’s wearing a condom on his head. Jason didn’t say anything when Tim replaced the old bandoliers with yellow ones with more compartments. The condom head thing hurts, though, and he ends up beating the shit out of Tim with a couch pillow.

A good deal of screaming and kicking each other later, they return to the task of redesigning. Tim replaces the RR in the middle of his chest with a bird-like symbol that hides a panic button. He switches the black gloves for sleeker red ones, although the middle finger and indicator are black. Jason thinks Tim is trying to make it more dramatic when he flips the bird (heh. Robin flipping bird) but Tim punches Jason’s shoulder and says the new gloves allow him to use his wrist pad more easily.

Jason hits him when he notices he weakened some of the defenses, and they bicker some more before Tim gives in and puts the shin guards and knee protectors back.

The cowl and the cape are gone, much to Jason’s annoyance, and he says Tim’ll look stupid. Tim calls him a knock-off Iron Man. Jason tries to smother him to death with a pillow when Tim doesn’t stop laughing.

It’s the most fun Jason had in… God, how long? He doesn’t remember the last time he could just joke back and forth like this. It doesn’t do good to your reputation as a crime lord if you give the drug dealers a noogie. Tim, on the other hand? Tim gets at least five noogies a day because he’s a dumbass.

It isn’t until they head to their rooms, later that night, that Jason realizes he hasn’t thought about his fight with Dick at all since they started working on the suit. He would've never guessed Tim’s presence wouldn’t be a bitter reminder of everything Jason lost, but rather than a good distraction.

Another week goes by before the suit is finished.

Jason swallows his pride and admits (to himself, at least) that getting rid of the cape was a smart move when he and Tim stand next to each other in full uniform. Tim’s new outfit doesn’t look out of place near Jason’s bulletproof vest and leather jacket. They’re a lot less dramatic than the Bats, and Jason likes that. They’re their own team, not one of them .

“Comms?” Jason asks.

“Tested and protected. Even Oracle would have to manually tinker with them to get into our frequency.”

“And you decided your field name yet?”

Tim hesitates. “I… Red Robin is fine.”

Jason nods. “Plan?”

“Break into Black Mask’s warehouse through the vent, plant…”

“Red Robin,” he cuts off. “Plan.”

Tim sighs. “Make Roman our bitch.”

“Atta boy. Let’s go.”

It’s an operation as simple as it is petty: Black Mask thought he could take over one of Hood’s warehouses. Jason was going to prove him wrong. It wasn’t a key hideout, but it was a relatively safe place if you were in the business of laundering money — discreet, easy to access without being noticed by the pigs, with most of the sewers around it hadn’t been blown up, which was always a plus. Hood was almost sure Roman took it just to show that he could and turned it into a drug warehouse to spite Hood. The fact that he disliked drugs wasn’t exactly a secret, after all. Szazs probably was involved in the process, Jason was sure.

In the end, Tim convinced him the stealthy approach was better. Just get in, ruin the whole operation and, by the time Black Mask realized it, he had lost a ton of money. Poetic justice and all that.

Jason complained about the plan being boring, but, as they get on their bikes to head out, he feels almost jittery. He doesn’t know if it’s just the thrill of being on the field again after so long — sue him, he’s an adrenaline junkie — or the prospect of the petty revenge. Either way, Red Hood grins under the helmet and, almost as though he can see his expression — or as though he’s feeling the same — Red Robin smirks back.

Just like that, they take off into the night. The wind howls past them as Hood leads the race, fast enough that it seems like he’s riding aimlessly. It doesn’t mean he isn’t choosing the way methodically. He knows he’s picking the right streets, the dark ones in which the dark red leather merges perfectly with the shadows. They rush past buildings with closed windows, sure that no one is stupid enough to glance at the two suspiscious riders.

Red Hood makes a sharp turn that would’ve made a less experienced driver fall into the asphalt. He hears Red Robin whooping excitedly behind him and he can’t help but laugh.

When they’re just a few blocks from the warehouse, they stop. At this point, Hood almost considers throwing the plan away — crashing the motorcycle into the place would make for an excellent entrance — but, as though reading his thoughts, Red Robin gives him a pointed look before getting off his bike.

“You’re such a wet blanket,” Hood says, even though no words were truly exchanged before that.

“And you’re a drama queen,” Red Robin retorts. And he grapples up to the nearest rooftop before Hood can give him a noogie for that.

Lighter and more agile, Red leads the way now and Hood is happy to be his shadow until they reach the strategic spot they picked — the two story building next door.

“Thank god this place didn’t crumble,” Hood comments absently. “The other buildings are too far for a clear view.”

Red gives him a strange look. “I checked whether it was still standing while we were planning the attack. Do you not verify the surroundings when you’re making strategies?”

“I like to leave room for improvisation; I’m not a stick in the mud like you.”

Red rolls his eyes under the mask as he reaches for the binoculars in his belt. Hood does the same. There shouldn’t be a lot of activity tonight if their intel is correct, and it looks like it is. They can’t see the inside of the warehouse — which is why Red Hood liked the place so much, damn it  — but they can still see the roof as clearly as they can see the vent they chose to… Hood freezes.

“Hey Hood?” Red Robin calls.

Jason pulls a face under the hood. “Yes?”

“Remember our plan to lay low so Batman doesn’t notice us?”

“Hmm.”

“Remember how I wanted to check on the rogues and you told me to stop being a stick in the mud?” He hisses.

“No one likes a bitching vigilante, Red.”

“Freaking Poison Ivy is here.” Red Robin gestures widely at the roof of the warehouse, as though Red Hood can’t see the green lady trying to get in through the very same vent they planned on using.

“See, that’s the beauty of crime fighting. You make a plan. The plan goes wrong. You throw the plan away.”

“Oh my freaking God,” he groans, “this is Young Justice all over again, but worse.”

Despite the complaining, they seem to be in agreement about what to do next: they take their grapple guns and shoot at Ivy’s blindspot. Red Robin is already getting his rebreather to filter whatever toxins they’re about to face.

The boys land almost silently all things considered. Without thinking, Hood points at  the other side of the roof and crosses an X in front of his lips, before closing a fist. Red Robin nods and sprints without a question.

For the second time, Jason freezes. The instructions were clear — take the other side, we’re going for a surprise attack after cornering her — but they shouldn’t have been. He didn’t realize he kept using those gestures to give orders, because he hadn’t had anyone working this close to him in literal years. He didn’t realize he still remembered the whole language — ASL, but also specific gestures that only made sense among Bats — until he had Red Robin following his orders. Something in his stomach feels heavy.

“... Hood ? Do you copy? ” Says a hushed voice in his ear.

Shit. Get it together, Jason.

He presses the comm button. “Listening.”

On the other side of the line, Red Robin sighs. “ Oh thank god, I thought the comms were suddenly fried. I’m in position. ”

Shit . “Hang on,” he says. He finally starts moving, extra careful not to make any noise.

“ You good, man?” Red asks, and Hood can practically see the confused furrow of his brow.

“Yeah, yeah, be quiet before Ivy hears us.”

He finally gets close enough to see her — she’s unscrewing the air vent cover to get in, even though she could probably just get a giant peach to roll over the place or something. It looks like Red Hood and Red Robin weren’t the only ones trying to be stealthy tonight.

He takes one step closer, and many things happen at the same time: the metal roof creaks under his boot. Ivy goes stiff for half a second. Then Jason is doing a backflip to avoid being bombarded with freaking thorns? When the hell did Ivy add a machine gun of thorns to her arsenal?

“Red Hood?” She stands, frowning. “Huh. I heard you were dead.”

“I get that a lot,” he says.

He reaches for his guns as Ivy waves her hand gracefully. Red Hood watches, with mild disgust, as what he thought was a weird belt snakes its way up Ivy’s torso until she has two venus flytraps settle on her shoulders.

“Fucking gross,” he says.

“I get that a lot,” she quips.

When he shoots at her, she’s ready. A branch grows fast enough to take the bullet for her and, before he realizes, she’s already inside his personal space. Hood dodges a punch in the throat but she keeps advancing. She knows better than letting him keep her at shooting range.

Welp, brute force it is then.

Hood puts his gun away at the same time he dodges a kick to the face. He takes a swing. One of Ivy’s pet plants almost bites his fist and he barely has time to retreat before the pesky thing takes a piece out of his glove.

“Huh. My sixth grade teacher told me those things are only lethal to flies,” he huffs.

Ivy grins. “My children are special.”

She presses and attacks again, and this time Hood lets her. When her knee hits his stomach, he grabs her by the calf and uses her own momentum against her. She barely weighs anything when he throws her hard at the ground, her back hitting metal and her pained groan muffled by the loud clang. He cringes. So much for stealth.

He makes to kick her before she recovers her wits, but apparently plants are more resistant than they seem. Hood feels his foot stuck to something and he curses when he looks down and sees thick vines holding him back. Shit, why didn’t he consider she had traps prepared around her?

“That was kinda rude, Hood,” she grins, slowly sitting up. “But I’m not mad. I might even give you a little kiss.”

By then, his resistance is futile and he wishes he hadn’t put his guns away so fast, because the vines quickly wrap around his whole damn body and he can’t even shoot the b —

A flying staff hits her on the side of the head.

“ACK!” Ivy shrieks, falling to the side.

“What are you doing, Hood?” Red Robin hisses, pressing a batarang into Red Hood’s hands.

“The hell?” Ivy groans, now looking dizzy. “I thought you worked alone.”

“I’m the intern. They call me Red Robin.”

And he stands over her, looking all heroic and ready to fight. Ivy, however, stays where she is, gaping at him.

“Bullshit. You’re regular Robin,” she says. “I thought you died. We all did when we saw the smaller Robin.”

Hood snorts.

The kid deflates a bit.  “How the hell do you know who I am?”

“You’re Harley’s favorite Robin,” she says simply. “She got really grumpy when we heard there’s a new Robin again.”

“I’m Harley’s — Wait, you guys have favorite Robins?”

“Of course we do. Mine’s the girl one. She didn’t die, did she?”

That’s one of the most surreal conversations Red Hood ever witnessed and he’s leading an unusual second life. Fortunately, Ivy is distracted enough — or at least hurt enough — that she doesn’t intervene while he cuts himself free.

“What are you doing here, Dr. Isley?” Red Robin asks. “Are you aware that this place is Black Mask’s?”

She scowls at him. “Are you aware that Sionis is a misogynistic jerk and he’s doing a lot of damage to the environment in this stupid warehouse? I’m going to take this thing down.”

“Hey, fuck off, this place was mine before Sionis stepped in,” Hood protests.

“I don’t care if you’re his landlord.” She gives him a scathing look. “I want him out.”

“This is great then!” Red Robin smiles. “We also want him out. And we have eco friendly plans for the place after Black Mask is out of the equation.”

Ivy gapes at Red Robin as though he started speaking a foreign language out of the blue. Red Hood is thankful for his helmet because he’s sure his expression isn’t much better.

“Are you suggesting we team up with Poison Ivy?”

“Why not?” Red Robin smiles as if he’s suggesting they should have burgers later. “The enemy of my enemy, right? Plus, I used to give her a free pass here and there because sometimes she’s right, you know?”

“Huh. So that’s why you’re Harls’ favorite.”

Red Robin shrugs again and stretches his hand to her. “Friends for the night?”

To Red Hood’s utter shock, she hesitates for less than a second before taking the kid’s hand and letting him pull her back to her feet.

“Just tonight, though,” she says.

If anyone told Jason tonight he’d be working with no one other than the Poison Ivy to take down one of Black Mask’s drug labs, he’d call them insane.

Nonetheless, he watches as Ivy throws caution to the wind — there’s no way the people inside didn’t hear their little scuffle — and uses one of their sentient plants to rip off an entrance on the metal roof. Right before jumping in, however, Red Robin squeezes his shoulder.

“What was that?” he whispers low enough that Ivy won’t hear them. “You were off. That wasn’t like you.”

Hood shrugs his hand away. “We’ll talk about this later. Come on, we can’t let Ivy have all the fun.”

They can already hear the screaming inside, so Red has no option other than compliance. Time to crash the party, he was looking forward to this.

And it’s fun. Having Tim around is fun. Watching a bunch of crooks run terrified of a plant lady is fun. Rounding up his former employees — those traitors — and watching their comically horrified faces upon realizing he isn’t dead is fun.

So much fun he completely misses the fact that there was someone else tailing Ivy. No one sees it when a young boy clad in bright colors rushes away from the place. Robin doesn’t know what to make out of what he witnessed tonight.

[ubernoxa]

Chapter 14: A First Date

A Guns N’ Roses FanFic

Chapter 14:

Delilah stood in the kitchen chopping up peppers for lunch. She originally was going to make breakfast, but as it was 1pm when she woke up in Duff’s arms she decided on lunch instead.

“Do you always make the guys food?” Delilah laughed at Drew’s question.

“I’ve made the past couple. It honestly all comes down to who is here at the time...and awake,” Drew jotted down some notes as Delilah spoke.

“Sorry if I’m asking too many questions,” Delilah looked into Drew’s soft eyes and smiled.

“No, you’re fine. It’s nice having someone to talk to,” Delilah added looking up on the clock.

“Do you all usually get up in the afternoon?”

“No usually I’m up by 10 in the morning at the latest. Last night Duff and I were up late,” Delilah smiled as she finished chopping up the peppers.

“Up late?”

“No no no, not like that,” Delilah quickly corrected herself earning a laugh from Drew

“Ohh please do tell Del,” Mags said walking into the room with a blanket wrapped around her.

“We just stayed up late, talking and stuff,”

“Stuff,” Mags cocked an eyebrow at Delilah’s comment.

“Fine we cuddled and made out,” Delilah’s cheeks turned red as she mumbled and immediately went back to cooking.

“Alright mister next big journalist, do you have your story?” Mags teased trying to grab his journal.

Delilah focused on assembling the sandwiches as fast as she could in order to get out of the room. To say she felt awkward in the room while Mags flirted with the writer was an understatement.

“I think I might have something,” he replied tapping his journal.

“Can I ask you some questions too? I was quizzing Delilah earlier and I think she is too nice to tell me to get lost,” Drew added opening up his journal again and pulling out a pen.

“Well you are 100% correct, Delilah is probably the nicest out of all of us,” Mags added.

“Speaking on that, how did you two meet?” They two girls gave off a different vibe. It was more of a question on how Delilah, who seemed sweet and very straight and narrow met Mags and the band.

“A bar, and then we hung out back stage. Now we’re roommates. Feels like it was only a week ago,” Delilah snorted at Mag’s comment as she grabbed a sandwich and left the room to go sit on the couch.

“Hey Delly,” Delilah smiled as Duff joined her on the couch.

“Hey Duffles,” Delilah smiled as she passed her sandwich.

Duff places it down on the table and stood up, Delilah quickly following him.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Are you free tonight?” His voice was no louder than a whisper.

“Yeah, why?” One of the few perks of leaving everything she once knew behind.

“Be here at 8, it’s about time I took you on a date,” He played with Delilah’s hair as he spoke sending the butterflies that were in Delilah’s stomach into total chaos. Maybe Duff did like her, Delilah thought to herself as she watched Duff twirl her hair.

Without hesitation, he bent down and kissed her. What started out slow quickly sped up as he guided her to lay down on the couch. A loud moan filled the room as Duff climbed on top of Delilah, and it drove him crazy. He wanted her. No he didn’t want her, he needed her. Despite the noise that would lead the two of them to get caught, they kept going. Neither of them cared. The more Delilah pulled his hair the hungrier he became. It was an endless cycle that was only stopped when Slash yelled across the hall, “Get a damn room. No one wants to see ya fuck.”

Delilah felt her face flash red and Duff shot Slash a look before chasing after him. Delilah grabbed her sandwich and headed back to the kitchen.

“Good morning Izzy,” Delilah said as she noticed him eating a sandwich at their sad excuse of a table.

“Sounds like you are having a better morning then me,” he noted before grabbing another bite of his sandwich.

“Hey, shut it,” Delilah snapped at Izzy who just laughed.

“You know Delilah you’re not that threatening,” Axl added with a smirk on his face that mimicked Izzy’s.

“No, but that’s my job,” Duff walked into the kitchen now, a smirk on his face as he wrapped his arm around Delilah’s waist causing her to subconsciously lean into him.

——————-

“So he asked you on an actual date?” Mags asked while they drove back to her place.

“Yeah,” Delilah couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off of her face.

“What are you going to wear?” Mags asked causing panic to grow over Delilah.

“I uhhh..I,” Delilah had only ever been on one other first date, but this date wasn’t setup by her parents. This one she actually cared about.

“Let’s go shopping then. I would lend you my clothes, but it’s special occasions like these that you should buy a new dress for. I know a second hand store that’ll have something that you will hopefully like,” Mags smiled as she quickly switch lanes.

It was only a 10 minute drive to the small resale shop. The moment they walked in Mags grabbed a small shopping basket and followed Delilah.

“My treat,” Mags said as she began to browse the dresses section.

“Oh I couldn’t,” before Delilah could continued Mags interrupter her, “oh yes you could. You’re my new roommate, so why not. Plus I’ve never gotten you a birthday present before, and you’ve had what 18 birthdays is it now? I’ve missed 18 of them.” Mags dramatically tossed her head back earning a giggle from Delilah.

“Fine, but I owe you one. Remember that,” Delilah pulled out a floral dress.

Mags shook her head no and replied, “if you keep making food for all the guys and visitors in that hell of an apartment, we are the ones who will owe you.”

“Did I miss anything last night once Duff and I left?” Delilah asked as she moved into another section.

Mags froze in her tracks, but quickly collected herself. “Nothing much. Continued to drink, talked, and Axl almost got into a fight.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Delilah laughed as she pulled out another dress and immediately put it back. To gaudy for her taste.

“Sometimes I worry about him, all of them actually. Like for instance is Izzy okay? He never seems to hang out with the guys at night,” Mags could feel her heart warm, not only at Delilah’s words but the concern in her voice. Part of her also wondered when someone would tell Delilah that Izzy sold drugs.

“You’re not alone, welcome to the club. We call ourselves the mother’s of Guns N’ Roses. We meet Sundays at 10 AM aka the only time when Guns N’ Roses is sleeping and not spreading chaos and making stupid decisions,” the girls laughter fill the room as the continued to shop.

They wandered up and down the aisles looking for something, anything that would work, but they were not lucky. That is until Mags stumbled across a white dress on the return rack outside the dressing room. She quickly snatched it off the rack. It was a thin dress perfect for the hot summers. She smiled at the small blue flowers that covered the dress. It was perfect.

“Hey, Del!” Magmas raised the small dress into the air earning a smile from her. She checked the price and thanked God it was only a couple of dollars.

“Go try this on while I go find some shoes,” Mags handed her the dress, but Delilah quickly protested.

“It’s the least I can do,”

“The least you’re could do it nothing,” Delilah replied before Mags shoved her into the dressing room.

“Shoe size?”

Delilah sighed at Mag’s words. Delilah sensed that Mags was stubborn, but now she learned how correct she was about Mag’s stubbornness. “Seven”

Was part of Mags vicariously living through Delilah right now? Yes.

Did Mags wish she had a friend who helped her prepare for her first date? Yes.

But most of all, Mags knew the storm that Delilah was running from. She would do anything to help the girl, her friend.

She browsed the shoe collection only to find a couple of shoes that could work. Her eyes immediately darted to the pair of blue strapped heels, perfect.

Within no time they bought the clothes and drove back to Mags apartment.

“You say you have a roommate, but I have never actually seen her,” Delilah said strolling into the bathroom to take a shower.

“Trust me it’s better off that way,” Mags joked back, well at least partly joked.

———————-

“Duff come on man, you’re gonna use up all of the hot water,” Steven whined while pounding on the bathroom door.

“If you keep pounding on the door, it might actually break open,” Izzy groaned from the kitchen eating some leftovers.

“Maybe that’s what I want,” A wicked smile crossed his face.

“If you need help, go get Axl. It’s kinda his forte,” Izzy chuckled as he went back to eating.

“What’s my forte? What the fuck is going on out here,” Axl screamed over Steven pounding on the door.

“Duff is probably preparing for his date with Del,” Slash said while continuing to strum his guitar on the couch.

“Huh, he actually did it,” Axl said under his breathe. Slash heard what Axl said loud and clear, but chose to ignore it. He didn’t feel like dealing with Axl’s wrath.

The water turned off and Steven’s pounding stopped.

It only took a couple of minutes for Duff to put on his eye liner and ‘style’ his hair. As Duff left the bathroom he was welcomed into the hallway with a series of whistles and cat calls from his band mates.

“Ohh Duffy, ohhhh Duuuuffffyyyy,” Slash screamed from the couch, Axl soon joining him. Duff slammed the door to his shared bedroom as he dug through his clothing trying to block out his band mates screaming and laughter.

Delilah stood outside the door to his apartment, frozen. She was a couple minutes early. Should she knock. Should she stand out here and wait. What if he was waiting on the other side? What is he was just now getting in the shower?

Delilah took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

“It’s unlocked Del, you can come it,” Delilah smiled at the sound of Izzy’s voice. She quickly opened the door to see Axl, Steven, Izzy, and Slash relaxing on the floor and couch.

“Hey,” Delilah walked in now feeling the nerves growing in her stomach.

She was welcomed by a bunch of heys and immediately felt awkward. They were all staring at her, were they waiting for her to come by? Did they know about the date?

Slash scooted over on the couch making room for Delilah, she thanked him and quickly sat down.

“So where are y’all going?” Axl asked, more curious than anything.

“I have no idea,” Delilah replied now mindlessly fidgeting with the hem of her dress. So they did not about the date.

“Well do us a favor and don’t eat all of whatever Duff cooked for your dinner. It smelled amazing,” Izzy joked .

“Hmm so a picnic is involved,” Delilah said under her breath. She didn’t know he could cook.

“Do you guys know anything?” Delilah asked curious to hear any more potential hints.

“Besides the fact that he has a bag with a blanket and food in it, we know absolutely nothing,” Steven added.

That’s when Duff walked in. He saw Delilah sitting on the old couch smiling and talking with his band mates. He watched as Steven made a stupid joke and they all laughed. She looked at home amongst them.

Duff walked into the room and immediately made eye contact with her and smiled. She looked gorgeous. Both of them remained frozen in time as their the butterflies grew larger in their stomachs.

“Nice hat,” Duff interrupted Steven’s story commenting on the hat he gave Delilah the night before which she currently wore.

“Thanks,” Delilah felt her cheeks go instantly red. Why was she so nervous? It was just Duff. They had spent so many other nights before with each other and talking till the sun came up. This was different thought, this was a first date. Delilah wasn’t a fool, she saw the girls at the party last night. He could have had anyone of those groupies, but he chose her. Why?

“Hey, you ready to go?” Duff grabbed the basket and held out his hand to Delilah. The white flowered dress flowed angelicly behind her as she stood up and walked towards him.

She would be lying if she said she didn’t lose her breath the moment their eyes met. He wore black leather pants with a white puffy shirt that was partially unbuttoned. She gladly took his hand and then they left the apartment.

“Fuck, wait here,” the two of them didn’t even make it down a flight of stairs when Duff put the basket down and ran back up the stairs and into the apartment.

“Back so soon?”

“Run outa stamina already?”

“Dude, you okay?”

We’re amongst some of the things his band mates asked him as he ran into the apartment to grab his leather jacket. No, not for him, but for Delilah just Incase she got cold.

[ktrivia]

All Men Dream

Bucky x Reader

Summary:

Reader is enhanced with the powers to enter dreams. She originally entered Captain America's dreams just to see if she could, but kept returning to them because she loved spending time in the 1940s ease of life in his idyllic versions of the time. But what happens when the good Captain figures out something is amiss?

Author’s Notes:

If you would like to be tagged in this story (I’m so excited that people actually want to read this) please send me a message!

Also let me know what you think of this chapter! I always love getting comments, suggestions, and theories!

Chapter 3

Bucky’s POV

               What woke me up was not another nightmare, but the sun. I blinked awake with squinted eyes as sunlight poured through the gap in the drapes that I never closed. There was no reason to close them, I woke up before sun rise everyday anyway. Slight confusion filled me as I pondered having slept all night, but it was overridden by the feeling of restfulness. Stretching my arms above my head, I enjoyed the sensation of being well-rested, but I still couldn’t figure out why.

               I tried to remember what I dreamed about, and Central Park filled my head. I had looked at ponds full of lily pads, walked around in awe of the greenery, eating a hot dog from a food stand, briefly looked for Y/N-

               My thoughts cut of as Y/N reached my consciousness and the nightmare from before the park rushed me. Why was she there? Why had she helped me? Or at least what I could only assume was helping. As much as Steve believed this woman had evil intentions, something in me was disagreeing with his assessment. While I still didn’t like the idea of someone entering my mind, there was something else to this story than I knew. All I knew was that I needed to talk to her.

               Turning over, I looked at the clock next to my bed and saw it was 9am. I jumped up and bolted from my room, knowing Steve and Natasha were probably already in the interrogation room. As I turned down the hallway to the kitchen, I spotted them at the table talking and eating breakfast. Slowing my stride, I contemplated what to tell them as I approached. The two noticed me about the same time. Steve had a small smile on his face as he placed the newspaper he’d been skimming down.

               “Wow, this must be a new record for you sleep wise. Came to get you for our run this morning and you were still out. Did you just wake up?” Steve asked.

               “Uh yeah. I had a good dream for once.” I explained as I went to the kitchen to get my normal cereal.

               “What’d you dream about Barnes?” Natasha questioned in between bites of bacon.

               “Central Park from the 40s,” I replied while looking at Steve for a reaction to the setting of the dream. His face scrunched a little.

               “Huh. I had a dream about that a week ago. Ate a mean hot dog from a guy selling them there.” He responded. So, Y/N had really taken me to a setting from one of Steve’s dreams. That confirmed she had gone into both of our heads, but not didn’t answer the question of why. I sat down at the table with my bowl of cereal and began eating. Cereal had gotten so much better since I was a kid. Artificial flavoring was a damn godsend. After taking a couple bites I spoke.

               “So, what’s the plan with dream girl?”

               “That’s what we were just talking about,” Natasha said. “Got any ideas?”

               “Yeah. Let me talk to her.” I replied calmly. Steve’s expression immediately switched to one of surprise and even Natasha reacted by raising an eyebrow at my declaration.

               “Buck, are you sure that’s a good idea? She goes into people’s minds every night without their permission.” Steve asked softly.

               “I’m not asleep and so far, I’m the only one who has been any semblance of ‘nice’ to her,” I explained while using finger quotes around the word nice. “She’ll be expecting the two of you to walk in, but I’ll be a surprise and hopefully catch her off guard.” And hopefully get her to tell me the real reason she’d been in my dream. Nat and Steve looked at each other and had another one of their stupid telepathic conversations. I didn’t know when they became able to have these silent conversations, but they annoyed the hell out of me.

               “Ok,” Steve said before added a quick addition to it. “But we have to be in the viewing room at all times that you’re in there.” I huffed at the overprotectiveness but knew why he was treating the situation this way. If I had told him Y/N had been in my dream, he would have her sent to The Raft immediately with some horrific way to keep her from entering anyone’s dreams. I wasn’t sure if she deserved that treatment yet, but if she did, I’d be the first one to sign the paperwork.

________________________________________________________________

Reader’s POV

               The night, or at least what I assumed was the night, dragged on. After I woke up from Bucky’s dream I hadn’t been able to fall asleep again. Most of the reason for that was my fear of accidentally jumping into another Avenger’s dream. Bucky in his near catatonic state may be slightly forgiving if he remembered his dream when he woke up, but others probably would not be. My shoulders had begun to hurt hours ago from being bound to the chair and my legs kept falling asleep from the lack of movement. My ass hurt too which was just the icing on the cake. My throat had dried out hours ago and swallowing became a struggle. Stomach rumblings had been the only sound for a while but they stopped a couple hours ago.

               I considered who would even realize I was missing. My parents didn’t call often, and we had spoken a few days prior, so they wouldn’t be trying to contact me. My few friends were out of town to avoid the hot New York summer. Maybe my boss would notice, but he’d probably just fire me before questioning where I was. Really the only living thing concerned about where I was would be Meatball, but that was probably just because he was hungry. Shit. I really hope that brown ball of fluff breaks the rules and eats something on the counter.

               I jumped in the chair when the door swung open. Moving so suddenly caused my aching muscles to scream as they performed any bit of motion. A groan escaped me as I tried to relax in the chair slightly. In the doorway stood Bucky Barnes. A blank expression covered his face, and while I could read others well, I couldn’t figure out what the man was thinking. He shut the door behind him and made his way to stand in front of me, then crouch down to my eye level.

               “I’ve disabled the microphones in here, but it won’t take long for the others to figure out how to fix them, so answer quick. Why were you in my head last night?” He questioned in a softer than usual voice. The slight kindness from yesterday was gone, and I feared my actions from the night before were not being perceived well. On the other hand, I wondered why he didn’t tell the others about me being in his head.

               “It’s like I told you. I fell asleep last night, and I must have been thinking about you right before, so I accidentally ended up in your dream. It wasn’t on purpose I swear.” I explained again.

               “Why were you thinking about me?”

               “I’m locked in this room alone. I was running through everyone I’d met, and you were the nicest, so it must have left a decent enough imprint to send me to your dream.” I tried to explain. Blue eyes changed slightly into what I could only interpret as a contemplative expression.

               “Why did you change the nightmare? Why not let it continue and just jump out of the dream when you could?”

               “You were scared. Really, really terrified. I hate seeing anyone look that way. So, when you agreed to let me untie you from that chair, I knew I had to do something to make it better.” I paused for a moment before speaking again. “We all have to deal with enough horrors in our waking lives. We shouldn’t have to experience them in our dreams too.”

               Bucky stayed silent for what felt like hours, but really could only have been minutes. He opened his mouth to ask another question but shut it quickly.

               “Hey Buck, the microphones were off for a minute there. You ok?” Steve’s voice asked while echoing through the room.

               “All good,” Bucky replied. With a quick warning glance to me, he started a new line of questioning.

               “Who do you work for?”

               “No one. At least no super villains. I literally work, as in a nine to five job, for a dick named Greg, but that’s marketing work and he doesn’t even pay me enough for that.” I snapped my mouth shut when I realized I had begun rambling. Bucky’s lips quirked a little before he continued.

               “Why were you in Steve’s dreams?”

               “The 40s, at least the way they were in his dreams, were really fun. I liked going to eat at an ice cream parlor or go dancing. It was a completely different world than the one I experience every day and I wanted to see it more. It’s like a Disney movie in his head.” Bucky let out a quiet laugh before composing himself again.

               “He does like Disney movies a lot but that’s a different conversation,” He explained while looked pointedly at the glass like he was looking at Steve. “Why did you go into his dream in the first place?”

               “I had been in some famous people’s dreams before, so I knew distance didn’t matter, but I didn’t know if him being a super person would keep me from being there. Originally, it was just a personal test to see if I could get in there, but I liked them, and I kept going back.”

               “And you realize if we find out you’re lying, there will be hell to pay?” He questioned with a cold look.

               “Yes,” I replied immediately. “I promise I’m not lying. I don’t know how to prove that but I’m not.” Bucky was silent again as he seemed to ponder something.

               “Can you bring someone with you when you dream walk, as you call it?” His question took me aback and it was a moment before I spoke again.

               “I’ve never tried it. I don’t think I could bring someone with me, but I could possibly enter two people’s consciousnesses at once.” My mind began racing with the possibilities of being in two people’s minds. Would they enter a joint dream space? Or would it form a strain on me as I existed in two different minds? Bucky asked another question, interrupting my train of thought.

               “Does the person have to be literally sleeping or will just unconscious work?”

               “Uh, they can be just unconscious,” I answered while still focusing on his previous question.

               “Why do you know they can be unconscious and not sleeping in the normal way?” Bucky asked. His voice had taken on a sharper tone and I realized my answer came off with nefarious connotations.

               “It wasn’t a bad reason! My brother was in the hospital after he got hit by a car when we were kids. Thy had him sedated for a couple days to help him heal and I would go hang out in his head to keep him company.”

               “Does your family know about this ability?”

               “No. My brother and parents wrote his dreams off as a side effect of the concussion he had.”

               Bucky nodded once, stood there for a moment longer, and then left the room. As the door shut behind him, my hope of going home after this ordeal quickly drained. I didn’t know what decision he’d made, but I was worried. After ten minutes of tense silence, the door opened again. Bucky stood there, and I could see Steve behind him with a strained expression.

               “You’re going to go into my head, but someone else is coming with me.”

Tag list (Please message me if you would like to be added to it):

@paradisiacalsparks @cals-cigarette @searchingforbucky @mavelfanatic @some-person-somewhere @marvel-th @unfortunately-im-awake @jessicakimba @fandom-addict-aesthetics @simplysaying @spnsquirrel @bxrnsfeyson @magnolialikes @buckyinantarctica @fluffymadamina 

[beeblackburn]

Pretender Reads A Little Hatred, Part I, Chapter Nine

This is the moment you get the laziest point-of-view thus far! Goes without saying spoilers ahead for the entirety of The First Law works beyond the keep reading. Read at your own risk.

Chapter Title: The Moment Point-of-View: Jonas Clover

“You asleep?”

“No,” grunted Clover. Only sort of a lie, since he had in fact just woken up. “Shut my eyes, is all.”

“Why?”

He opened one and peered up at the boy. Hard to say which he was, with the sun flickering through the branches. Specially since Clover had forgotten their names again. “So I don’t have to see the injury you two are doing to the noble art of swordsmanship.”

Not exactly the running start, compared to the other point-of-views, I can tell. No trippy fits infused with magic, no charging into enemies, no gazing into the industry of hell, no watching a hanging one could stop, no plotting revolution in the cellars of the common folk. Just a man watching two boys practice with swords, and badly, by the cut of Clover’s words. A chronically lazy man, and bad teacher, at that.

Interesting.

“Doing the best we can,” grumbled the other boy, whichever one he was.

“That’ll be a comfort to your mothers when you’re killed for not attending to my wisdom.” Clover let his hand hover over the basket of apples, then plucked out one he liked the look of. Nice blush to it. He took a bite and sucked out the juice.

“Tart,” he said, baring his teeth, “but tolerable. Like life, eh, lads? Like life.” They stared at him blankly. He heaved a weary sigh. “Back to it, then.”

Fun fact, I had to look up what tart as an adjective meant. And Clover sounds like a pretty jaded guy, to be throwing out these “life is tolerable” quips to others. Mind you, I did giggle at the boys giving him a blank stare. Ah, youth.

As far as the chapter goes right now, it’s honestly... kind of a slow one? In a way that feels intentional with Clover’s voice. Very relaxed in pace, if we’re going into the prose detailing Clover’s picking an apple specifically with a nice blush to it. There’s little of the urgency and no-nonsense nature of Leo or Vick’s chapters. And there’s something to be said about comparing Clover and Orso’s voices, but whereas Orso was more self-pitying and kind of miserable about himself, Clover is more consciously lazy and casual. He’s just a man who wants to nap and, failing that, take the nicest fruit while awake.

Why this point-of-view character, Abercrombie? (arches an eyebrow)

They shambled unhappily out into the sun and turned to face each other.

“Yah!” The dark one dashed in, swinging his stick.

“Urgh!” The blond one parried, stumbling back.

Clack, clack, as the sticks knocked together. Coo, coo, went a cuckoo in the trees behind. Somewhere men were arguing over something, but so far off their voices were no more than a comforting burble. Clover wedged one hand behind his neck and wriggled back against the tree.

Sometimes, it could feel like life wasn’t so bad.

Then he gave an unhappy grunt. Then a twitch. Then a grimace. Problem was, these students of his were about the most terrible swordsmen he ever saw. The blond one swung, swung, swung, teeth clenched, while the dark one snarled and burbled, more running away than defending, both already out of breath.

Huh. Blond and swinging, dark and running? That reminds me of Scale and Calder...

Whoa. Are those... Calder and Seff’s children? I guess, after Stour Nightfall, they could’ve had more. Scale’s, maybe? How did a lazy-ass dude like Clover net himself a teaching gig with the Northern royalty’s children? And why are they so bad, if so? Are they so young that it’s really muscle more than skill that’s moving their arms? Man, Clover, be a little easier on them, they’re nose-picking children.

On a character note, Clover's quite the man taken with his simple comforts, just taking in the joys of a cozy tree and ignoring the arguments from afar. There’s no tension, no anxiety, no problems, Clover’s content in a way the other characters aren’t and, honestly, good for him there. Few characters in the Circle of the World get to be this relaxed.

Except.

“No, lads, no.” Clover shook his head. “Very much no. You’re going at each other like a dog at a bitch. Wild and wayward. You’ve got to put more thought into this moment than any other. All your thought and all your effort, because everything you’ll ever have is apt to be snatched away in the next breath. Your lives are hanging in the balance!”

“They’re just sticks,” said the blond one.

Clover rubbed at his temples. “But we’re pretending they’re swords, you halfhead. I’m not a bloody stick teacher, am I?” The dark-haired boy opened his mouth and Clover held up a silencing hand. “Don’t answer that. Just take some time. Your dinner ain’t getting cold, is it?”

“You said strike fast.”

“Aye, once you strike, like lightning! But think before you strike, eh?”

(clucks tongue) Well, I’ll give Clover this: he’s giving way more effort and sincerity into verbal instruction than I expected a character of his archetype to give. And his teachings don’t strike me as wrong, so much as way above the level of young children to follow.

In fact, they kind of remind me of another Northman’s advice with fighting:

“Third, watch your opponent as close as you can, and listen to opinions if you’re given them, but once you’ve got your plan in mind, you fix on it and let nothing sway you. Time comes to act, you strike with no backward glances. Delay is the parent of disaster, my father used to tell me, and believe me, I’ve seen some disasters.”

—Before They Are Hanged, Fear  

And Logen was a master at killing, so the fact that Clover’s coming pretty damn close to his advice is... hmmm.

“Why don’t you come and show us?” asked the dark one.

“Out there in the sun?” Clover chuckled to himself. “I didn’t become a bloody teacher so I could get up and do it my bloody self.”

Hahahaha, Clover might be a shit, but he’s a funny shit. I think I came closest to laughing as much with Orso’s chapter and Clover’s got a more wry, less heavier load of witticisms. If he’s truly a Northman, he’s definitely nothing like Logen.

If anything, he reminds me of a Northern Tunny instead, just this man of few principles and sheer laziness and not wanting to get off his arse and do stuff. Just like Tunny thinks war is enough of a pain without people fighting, Clover thinks teaching is enough of a pain without actually showing his students physical demonstration. I wonder if Clover has the same amount of experience in battle as Tunny, given his weary tones.

“But…” The blond boy shaded his eyes with his hand. If Clover had been the dark one, he’d have smashed him right then when he wasn’t looking. But the dark boy just stood there picking his nose. No initiative, these little bastards. “Aren’t you going to show us some… what do you call it… technique?”

!!! Geez, Clover, a bit Northern vicious, aren’t we? I guess that’s the difference between Clover and Tunny, what culture they were brought up in, and the North is drenched in blood and gore by this point, deep-set in rites of violence.

“Technique.” Clover laughed. “Technique is what we come to last. So far, you two are only just holding the sword by the right end.”

“It’s a stick,” said the blond one, frowning at his stick. “The ends are the same.”

Clover ignored him. “It’s a mindset I’m trying to teach you. A winning way of looking at the world.”

The dark boy was so baffled, he looked almost in pain. “It’s about hitting him with a sword, ain’t it?”

Clover took a slow breath in and slowly blew it out. “First of all, it’s about deciding when to, and when not to. In the end… the only thing a man can really do… is pick his moment. Watch for the opening, and recognise it when it comes, and seize it.” And Clover snatched at a handful o’ nothing and shook his fist. “Picking your moment. That’s the secret. You understand?”

Bwuhahaha! Well, there goes my theory that they’re of the Northern royal family, there’s no way the Calder lookalike would be baffled, given Calder was clever enough to catch Bethod’s greater meaning of what peace was at that age.

And yeah, I’m definitely getting airs of a Northern veteran with Clover, considering this rings eerily close to Logen’s advice. I wonder how much action he’s seen to now avoid it at all costs? How long’s he’s seen service?

If anything, Clover’s instructions make me think he’s, at least, no fool with a sword. A lazy, hilarious bastard, but no fool at fighting.

Clack, clack went the sticks. Tock, tock went a woodpecker in the trees behind. The snap of a stick in the brush and Clover slipped the knife from its sheath at his back and held it down behind his arm.

Another footstep and Clover reached out, without looking around, and tipped the basket of apples towards the newcomer.

“Apple?” he asked.

(stares) Yup, no fool at fighting. Not one bit. One sharp sound from afar and Clover went straight and ready to defend himself. A lazy bastard, but not one when it comes to his life, no sir.

Yet, he’s not one for violence at first gesture. Certainly different from the other piss-and-vinegar Northmen, more used to a scream and a swing of a sword, then a gift of apples.

Well played, Clover.

Black Calder was standing there, rubbing at that little scar on his chin as he watched the two boys swinging away and not picking their moment in the least. “No,” he grunted.

BLACK CALDEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER!!!!! MY SWEET CLEVER BOY!!!!!

(SOBS HAPPY TEARS OF JOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOY)

Complete with the scar you got from your duel with Black Dow, I’ve noticed!

“Prince of the North?” The point of Dow’s sword pricked into Calder’s neck, twisting his head towards the bright sky, making him slither helplessly up onto all fours. “You’re a fucking embarrassment, boy.” And Calder gasped as the point flicked his head back and left a burning cut up the middle of his chin.

—The Heroes, By the Sword

Well, Black Calder’s presence here just confirms Clover’s a Northman, at least. Good to know! Though... why is Calder going out of his way to visit a lazy, old bastard?

“Hard day, Chief?”

“You get to my position, they all are.”

Clover looked back to the demonstration of how not to use a sword, knife already put away and his hands clasped across his belly. “Reckon that’s why I prefer my position.”

There’s that consciousness with Clover. That sense that he intentionally sought out a low-risk, ignoble teaching job because he’d rather an easy task than a host of hard days to go with it. Not that I blame him, the North’s a hard place, full of the bloody business without wanting to seek it out like a passionate lover. Say one thing about Clover, say he’s a bit of an expert at being content with his life.

“Huh.” Calder worked his mouth, a little sourly in Clover’s opinion, and said in a voice sharp with sarcasm, “Don’t get up.”

“I haven’t.”

Calder worked his mouth even more sourly. He was a sour sort these days, given how much life had given him, or how much he’d managed to claw from it, leastways. Time was he’d had a fine sense of humour, but the more men get, the sourer they tend to turn, and Black Calder had almost the whole North. His brother Scale might wear the king’s chain, but everyone knew Black Calder made the king’s choices.

(sighs with sadness) Oh, Calder. You really turned into your dad, huh. Even right down to conquering the North and all. Even the old generation turns out to repeat history’s cycle, like a circle, just like the new generation takes from the old generation and Calder’s become the second coming of Bethod once more.

Even down to how much power changes a man:

“In fact I do. I, too, am pursued, by agents of the King of the Northmen, Bethod. You’d think he’d have better things to do, what with this mad war against the Union, but Bethod, well, like him or no, you have to admit he’s persistent.”

“Persistently a shit,” said Shev.

“I won’t disagree,” lamented Whirrun. “The greater a man’s power swells, the smaller his good qualities shrivel.”

—Sharp Ends, Two’s Company

I just hope Seff’s keeping Calder grounded, at least. Keeping his good qualities fresh like spring dew instead of winter rot. Bethod didn’t have Ursi at the end...

Oh, you royal Northmen and your tragic stories of power.

Clover took his time. He considered it a point of principle to always take as much time as he could get away with. Then he shook out his aching legs, then slapped the dirt and dried pine needles from the arse of his trousers, then slapped his palms clean, too.

Heh. Very Glokta, Clover just taking his time because why rush through life. Rushing is for younger, intact legs and the fools they’re attached to. Take it easy.

“Let ring the bells,” said Calder. “This here is Jonas Clover.”

Clover looked around and got quite the shock to see someone had come up behind him and was leaning against the tree. A black-haired lad maybe twelve or thirteen years old with a cleft top lip and watchful eyes. He looked Clover up and down, and didn’t say a thing.

(tilts his head) Stour Nightfall? Too young, given Seff was pregnant with Stour at The Heroes and that was about twenty years ago. There are no obvious characters with cleft or in-born split top lips as parents. Who, then, considering he managed to sneak up on Clover? I have another thought, but... hmmm...

Also, neat first name! Does this mean Clover’s a Named Man? If so, I’m glad I was on the mark about him being a veteran. Maybe he got sick of the fighting life, like Craw did... until he gave up the peaceful life for more battle and blood.

“Used to be called Steepfield,” added Calder, which made Clover scratch unhappily at the back of his head. “Maybe you heard of him.”

“No,” said the lad, looking over at the two fighting boys with his pale eyes narrowed. “Who’re these?” They’d fallen to wrestling, lurching about with their sticks waggling at the sky.

So. Clover intentionally changed his Name rather than added a new one like Logen with The Bloody-Nine, Whirrun with the of Bligh titling, and maybe Rudd with Threetrees. Judging by the unhappy scratch, there’s some history with Steepfield (also, what kind of Name is Steepfield, where do you get a name like that?) that Clover would like to discard along with the name itself. Why’s that?

And, judging by the lack of knowing from this lad, I’m guessing Clover, operating under Steepfield, hasn’t been around, even in The Heroes.

“Those…” Clover considered denying any acquaintance with them, but doubted he’d get away with it. “Are my pupils.”

The lad considered ’em a moment, then pronounced his solemn judgement. “They’re no good.”

“You’ve an excellent eye. They’re shit. But that’s how you know what a truly great teacher I am. Any fool can get results from the gifted.”

The lad considered that. “So where’s the results?”

“You have to trust they’ll be along. Patience is a warrior’s most fearsome weapon. Take it from me. I’ve been in a few fights.”

“Did you win any?”

Clover snorted. “Oh, I like him, Calder. Did you come down here just to toss my hard-won reputation in the muck?”

Seriously, who is this child? He seems set up as someone important and he’s certainly got some insight to him, but no clues yet. Is he one of Calder’s children then? Seff has a pug nose, but no clefts, as far as I know.

Also, do you really believe that, Clover, or are you just trying to save face. I thought you didn’t care for face. (laughs)

Calder took an unhappy, growling breath. “My son.”

“The Great Wolf? Our king-in-waiting? That peerless warrior Stour Nightfall? Thought he knew how to use a sword.”

“He does. Too well, if anything. He’s proving somewhat… wilful. Set fire to Uffrith, the bloody idiot. All those years I spent planning how to take the city, and the moment I get it, he sets fire to it.”

“My father used to say you point three Northmen the same way they’ll be killing each other before you can order the charge. I’ve got Gregun Hollowhead and his boys from the West Valleys as like to join the Dogman as fight against him. How do I make them take my say-so when my own blood won’t? If Stour weren’t my son, I’d be forced to say the boy’s a fucking prick.”

!!!!! WHOA. We’re getting Stour Nightfall this early? Damn, I am up for this!!!

... I am less up for the implications that Stour went against Black Calder’s orders. I thought Calder burnt down Uffrith as a political message to the Union and its allies (the Dogman and his Named Men) as a middle finger to Bayaz, regardless of Shenkt alliance or not.

... But if it was Stour going rogue and burning shit for the hell of it, that’s a worse problem. And, if Calder, his own father, is calling Stour a prick... I’m getting the sense that parenting didn’t turn out a particularly great guy, which is WACK. What happened, Calder and Seff!?

Also, Gregun Hollowhead, huh? New name, I see! Good to see the west side of the North getting fleshed out, instead of east, past where the Crinna lies, or the High Places or even further to the upmost North.

Calder wasn’t listening. “He cares about nothing but his own fame. His own legend. What’s a bloody name worth at a market? Warriors.” He spat the word out like it tasted bitter. “I swear, the more they win, the worse they get.”

“Defeat is good for the spirit.” Clover scratched gently at his own scar with the little fingernail he left long for the purpose. “Learned that the hard way.”

I mean, Calder, you knew how warriors get. Not only have you lived your entire life with a musclehead brother, as good-natured as he is to you, you even went through an entire book of practical experience about how warriors are toxic masculinity vessels of bloodshed and murder, and that was putting aside Gorst!

Seriously, what happened with your parenting him, Calder!?

Right, so Clover lost a fight within an edge of his life long ago, and learnt to be less of a battle-hungry prick as a result. Right, the pieces are starting to come together. Discarding his old Name, and coming up with a more innocent Name as a way to discard that old battle-hungry prick. 

In that sense, I can’t blame him, it’s when you lose that you have the strength to keep going in a way that forever winning will never grant you. You never fully know the person you are until you fall and have to get back up the first time. 

That being said, why Clover of all names?

“He thinks he’s bloody invincible. And his name draws fools like a turd draws flies and they give him fool advice. I sent Wonderful over to be his second, try to teach the Great Wolf some caution.”

“Good choice. Good woman. Good judgement.”

“Stour’s got her tearing her bloody hair out.”

Clover frowned. “Wonderful’s got hair now?”

“It’s a figure of speech.”

WONDERFUL, HOW ARE YOU, YOU BALD BODY OF SALT AND SNARK!

At the very least, Calder knows his son enough that the ass-lickers won’t improve his disposition. Though, poor Wonderful, given how Calder talks of her with Stour.

Also, I totally had Clover’s exact reaction at the idea of Wonderful having hair. Eyebrows raised so high, the ceiling was the only thing stopping them from going up outer space.

“I want you to help her out. Keep Stour on the right path.”

“I’m supposed to know where the right path is?”

“A damn sight better than my prick of a son. Maybe you can nudge him off a couple of wrong ones, anyway.”

Clover scratched his beard, and watched the boys flounder in the meadow, and Calder’s lad shaking his head in disgust, and he took a slow breath in and slowly breathed it out. “All right, then.” He’d been around long enough to know when there was no squirrelling out of a thing. He grunted as he bent down and fished up his sword. Slowly, because why not? “I’ll do what I can.”

You know, I’ve been wondering why Calder, of all people, takes this chronically lazy bastard so seriously. And that part is absolutely what gives me pause on how much Clover’s laziness is an act and not something... darker, but at the same time, Clover really does seem genuine in wanting to take the path of least resistance. Very Tunny about wanting to dodge responsibility and just rest and sleep somewhere the boss can’t yell at him to work on things.

And, up to a point? I get why Calder would pick Clover, of all people. He really seems the opposite of most piss-and-vinegar Northern warriors, in terms of choosing less violent and vicious paths, but having the lived experience to understand where those typical warriors are coming from. And, judging from Clover’s narrative, he’s an intentional bastard too, choosing the best apple, unsheathing the knife immediately after the snapped stick, and choosing to weigh his options of rejecting Calder’s choice or not before committing.

I guess my thought is... how well-known was Clover, if Calder singled him out?

“Reckon that’s all any of us can do, in the end. You’re a straight edge, Clover. You’ve always been loyal.”

“Doubtless. I was loyal to Bethod, then to Glama Golden, then to Cairm Ironhead, now to you.”

“Well. You were loyal to them till they put themselves on the losing side.”

“That sounds almost exactly like disloyalty.”

Calder shrugged. “A man has to bend with the breeze.”

“If I’ve got one talent, it’s bending with the breeze. You keep the apples.” And Clover nudged the basket towards the scar-lipped lad with his boot. “They make my tummy hurt.”

1. SHIT. Craw’s dead, isn’t he. Why else would Calder want another straight edge on his side, if he already had the original one? The one who was so loyal, even to Black Dow, he wouldn’t even bend for Calder’s sake, originally? Damn it, Craw, I wish you took that retirement in peace, instead of dying and making Calder lose his other father... back to the mud, Curnden Craw, you old bastard.  2. Huh! A chronology of loyalty. Excellent. Let’s see... Bethod’s the easy one, dead at Last Argument of Kings, meaning Clover was around 576-577, even back then. Glama Golden was exiled from the North at The Heroes’ end, so he was still operating around 584 and... damn, Cairm Ironhead kicked it in-between The Heroes and now? What was the losing side in that case, considering he was for Black Calder until his self-interest shifted elsewhere, which... I wonder who. 3. Bend with the breeze, huh. Calder knows better than most anyone up North what it means to bend with the breeze, given he had to bend with Black Dow’s wind way back. Except Clover's got a longer list of masters swept aside for self-interest’s sake, and I suspect he’d look a virtuoso to Calder’s beginner’s luck.

“And all my dreams came true,” said Clover, ambling up with his sword over one shoulder.

Wonderful turned her head, showing the white scar through the black and silver stubble on her scalp, and hacked out a laugh. A laugh without much joy in it.

“Look who it is,” she said.

He glanced down at himself. “I recognise those boots! Jonas Clover has arrived and all wrongs shall be set right.” He winked at her but she was not much charmed. “Must be your lucky day.”

“I’m fucking due one.” And she slapped her hand in his, and pulled him close by it, and they clapped each other around the back for good measure.

Hahaha, this dynamic is already gold from the start. There’s a point to be said about how Clover is kind of like Craw, especially given the straight edge titling, but I feel like that’s only in a structural sense, given Clover and Craw are both tired, weary Northmen, too old for this shit. But Craw had a ton more principles, loyalty, and general care for his men, whereas Clover... seems to possess only one principle, and it’s slipping out of work like a snake through a field.

Not a healthy principle, but a deeply relatable one.

But yeah, whereas Craw and Wonderful were basically an old married couple... Craw was ultimately made of sterner cloth, dyed in a deeper sense of loyalty and principle. However, Clover and Wonderful fit like glove, two sarcastic, weary bastards cut from the same, old cloth from the more self-interested, pragmatic North, especially given how Wonderful stopped Beck from trying to kill Shivers or Calder after Black Dow and Brodd Tenways got cut down.

I’m laughing, their dynamic is comedic gold right now, but there’s an underpinning of genuine friendship between them, despite the snide words shared.

“Oh, me too.” And he patted his belly. “The body of a hero lies just below this carefully nurtured layer of fat.”

Hey, someone chubby! Awww, this just makes me like Clover all the more. Not to say that a man who’s accumulated all that weight probably took care not to rush headfirst into battle. Lots of care.

“You dare trifle with me, woman? I’m supposed to mind the future of the North, the king-in-waiting, the Great Wolf, Stour Nightfall.”

Both her brows went up now. “You?”

“I’m to keep him on the right path. Calder’s words.”

“Good luck with that.” She beckoned him close and lowered her voice. “Not sure I ever met a bigger prick than that boy, and I stood second to Black Dow.”

Clover snorted. “For a day you did.”

“A day was plenty.”

I’m smiling, I’m laughing at all this, and it’s officially more than I’ve laughed in any other chapter so far, this chapter and Clover feels very reminiscent of The Heroes in that sense...

... But not going to lie, I’m a little scared of what Stour’s going to be like now. Worse than Black Dow? Hell, I actually really like Black Dow as a character, but his reputation was intentionally trying for the blackest.

So. Someone who’s worse than him? And that someone being Calder’s son? (grimace)

Wonderful jerked her head towards a column of smoke rising above the trees. “He’s even now burning a village we just captured over yonder. He was going house to house when I left him. Making sure the flames got the lot.”

... This reminds of Bright Yilling from Half a War, and, for those who haven’t read that (though you should, and the rest of the Shattered Sea trilogy, what is wrong with you), that is not a welcome comparison.

And Stour came swaggering down the track. He’d been given the name Nightfall as a babe, on account of being born during an eclipse. It had been an hour before, in fact, but no one dared say so now. All part of the ever-inflating legend of the Great Wolf. He’d long, dark hair, and fine clothes buckled and riveted with gold, and these grey-blue eyes that looked always a little wet, as if he was about to cry. Tears of acid contempt, maybe, for the world and everything in it.

He was no giant, but there was a quick strength to the way he moved. A dancer’s grace. And sneering confidence in crazed abundance. A surfeit of self-belief can get you killed, but Clover had seen it carry men through fire before as well. The old iron skin of arrogance. Here was a fellow who knew how to pick his moment, and to cut what he wanted from it with no hesitation and even less regret.

He had that crowd of cunts with him that famous fighters tend to gather, many of them proudly sporting the sign of the wolf on their shields. Men with no name of their own, drawn to the big name like moths to a bonfire. Clover had seen the wretched pattern a dozen times before. Glama Golden had a crew very similar, and the Bloody-Nine, too, and more than likely Skarling Hoodless had a glowering gaggle however many hundred years before.

Well.

1. Hah! I half-wondered if Abercrombie were going to deconstruct the Nightfall epithet and, lo and behold, he did! I don’t really blame his family though, even though I’ll laugh at them for it, that part really is a sick-ass name. 2. He’s certainly less pug-nosed than I expected of him. A bit more classically handsome, I take it he took mostly from Calder’s side of the gene pool, appearance-wise, except for those wet eyes. “Acid contempt,” indeed. 3. I... spoke that “cut-price Bloody-Nine” remark about him way back in Rikke’s first chapter and now I’m thinking that was more on the mark than I realized. Calder, this is the son you made and raised? By the dead. 4. If we continue the Calder = Next Generation Bethod allusion, then there’s a sick, sad irony to the fact that Calder and Seff gave birth to the Next Generation Logen in Stour, just like Bethod originally gave birth to the Bloody-Nine’s horrific reputation in using Logen. History repeats once more in the Circle of the World. 5. He’s certainly living up to the hype of my expectations, but I’m honestly rather scared of what Stour’s going to do to Clover. Please don’t disfigure him, Stour.

Stour Nightfall fixed Clover with that wet, cold, hollow stare, quick hand sitting loose on the pommel of his sword, and his grin was full of good teeth and bad threats.

“Jonas Clover,” he said. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Annnnnnnnnnnnd... he’s a fucking prick. I guess I can’t say false advertisement from Calder.

Though, huh, even Stour knows Clover while that other lad Calder had with him didn’t? Interesting.

“He knows who his father is,” sneered one of the sneerers. A heavy-muscled young bastard with a whole armoury strapped about him, made a sound on the move like a knife-seller carting too much stock.

Stour scowled sideways. “Shut your mouth, Magweer.” Magweer bristled to be slapped down, a wearisome pattern of manly goings-on in which Clover, to his shame, had once been a keen participant. “What I want to know is—why did he send you?”

Yeah, I’m definitely pegging Clover to be a former battle-hungry prick until he was defeated somewhere.

Also, heh, I can’t help but snicker at Magweer and his wearing an armoury on his person. My god, this utter loser. Seriously, Clover’s older lens on the younger Northern warrior dickheads is hilarious. And I might not think much of Stour’s manners, but slapping down Magweer made me like this ass-pup just a little.

“I thought I could smell dung.” And Stour sniffed, and licked his teeth, and wiped at his nose with a thumbtip. “So what’d be your first advice?”

“Never scratch your eyebrows with a sword.” Clover grinned. No one else did, but that was their lookout. “Best to just leave ’em in the scabbard whenever possible, I’d say. Drawn swords are bloody dangerous, that’s a fact.”

The joke might be there to catch people off-guard, but Clover’s got a greater point: only use your sword when you absolutely must. Swords are dangerous business and they incite more violence you might not get out of when a basket of apples can earn you more than a blade’s edge.

Stour stepped a little closer and brought a little bubble of menace with him. “Wisdom fit for a hero,” he whispered.

“I used to want to be a hero.” Clover patted his belly. “Grew out of it. But I told your father I’d do what I could.”

I’m reminded of how Beck wanted to be a hero, a big, strong Named Man with his own legacy beyond being the blood of Shama Heartless... but got out of that bloody business, thank god. Most Northern children seem to want that kind of big Name and puffed-up sense of legend through story and song, to be heroes famed in them. Clover was likely a young Northern fool, just like the others, and didn’t get out in time, probably too late to get out of it by this point, though he certainly made a game effort until he got found by Calder.

“So…” Stour swept his hand out towards the valley. “Care to point out the path?”

“Wouldn’t presume. I know what I am, and I’m one of life’s followers.”

Pffffffffft! What an anti-climax, compared to all that talk about steering Stour bad roads away! One rooted in character, for sure, but I half-expected Clover to actually follow through a bit, given that first bit of decent advice. Then again, actually guiding Stour Nightfall would require a truly herculean effort than a thousand poor, old Clovers could ever exert. And who has the time and energy for that sort of nonsense?

The king-in-waiting opened his wet eyes wide. “Try to keep up, then, old man.” And he brushed past, eyes fixed on his next conquest, and Clover stepped out of the way of his scowling companions, bowing low. “I want to burn us another village or two before sundown!” the Great Wolf called over his shoulder, and the young glories competed with each other to laugh the loudest.

“What did I say?” Wonderful leaned close. “Absolute prick.”

Yup. And Clover’s tied to that prickish ass-pup until the bitter end, it seems. That being said, this ending does solidify why Clover’s a point-of-view character in this book: to give a viewpoint camera to Stour’s side of things. A war-weary warrior partnered up with a familiar old hand from the past books to babysitter the North’s newest iteration of the Bloody-Nine. In a lot of ways, it definitely opens up more possibilities of what I expect out of Clover’s character going forward. Is he going to bend with the wind, or is he actually going to give some genuine counsel to the ass-pup and make headway? This chapter says no, but who knows about Stour going forward.

As a chapter, The Moment is very... relaxed. Very content to take its own pace and just take life at its own terms until Clover gets dragged off by Calder’s schemes and hopes of muzzling the Great Wolf. In that sense, it’s perfect for showcasing Jonas Clover, a chapter where he just wants be a layabout and exert no actual effort until he’s dragged along by the whims of more vicious and higher Northmen. Less an active participant and someone who has to bend with strong winds coming in fierce. It’s also a set-up for Stour Nightfall’s character and... wow, is he just a massive prick. I know I keep harping on this, but what the hell happened, Calder and Seff.

As a character... honestly, Clover’s fucking great right out the gate! Nothing necessarily new or fresh, per say, like I said, there’s shades of Craw and, mostly, Tunny as a Northman in him, but an old mentor who intentionally goes out of his way to duck out of working at his teacher and is just a barrel of witticisms amid that? Sign me up! It doesn’t hurt that his war-weary lens expresses itself with such a wry, exasperated gaze at these cut-price dickhead warriors, just the new hotness, expressed in more ridiculous ways than the last generation. I never laughed so hard in a chapter until this one! And it also doesn’t hurt that he and Vick feel very... first trilogy in terms of weariness, experience, and practicality so far, compared to the much more fresher bloods. And it also doesn’t hurt there are signs of a Clover that’s not all avoidance and laziness, found in that immediately unsheathed knife at the snapped stick.

I’m definitely looking forward to what’s next for Jonas Clover!

PART I

Chapter One: Blessings and Curses Chapter Two: Where the Fight’s Hottest Chapter Three: Guilt Is a Luxury Chapter Four: Keeping Score Chapter Five:  A Little Public Hanging Chapter Six: The Breakers Chapter Seven: The Answer to Your Tears Chapter Eight: Young Heroes Chapter Nine: The Moment Chapter Ten: Break What They Love

[bubblepop-32]

If Bruce was De-aged and the only one who could make him stop screaming is Jason. (Part 3)

Bruce gets de-aged, but his memories aren’t as young (but not as old) as what they’re supposed to be. And he desperately needs Jason.

I wanted to read de-aged Bruce with our man Jay but I literally can’t find any ;A; So I sacrificed sleep and wrote this. 

There’s going to be good ol’ fluff and bonding between Jason and small Bruce, but there’s also going to be angst, suffering and then a little more angst. And swearing (mostly from Jay)

Here’s the previous chap >> Part 2 << And if this is your first time... >> Part 1 <<

Jason ended up being led by an entourage of people – namely Alfred, Dick and Zatanna towards the place where de-aged-potentially-alternate-universe Bruce was kept. With each heavy step he took towards wherever they were going, the more and more he grew unsettled.

Alfred came to a graceful halt as they somewhat neared their destination, which soon turned out to be only Jason’s destination since no one else was going to go with him beyond where Alfred stopped.

“The temporary room where Master Bruce is staying is just the third door down on the right.” Alfred seemed to be directing the words mostly towards Jason. In a more hushed tone, Alfred continued. “Master Jason, it would be a good idea if you go without an entire horde following you.”

Alfred knew Jason was already uncomfortable setting foot here, much less be so close Bruce. Having more people to deal with other than trying to handle Jason himself whilst being in the presence of the bat was a horrifying thought by itself. This was also for the betterment of Bruce, despite Alfred knowing that Jason didn’t want to find himself starting to have to actually care about him.

Hearts and bonds shattered at such a young age would leave such a nasty scar that, perhaps, may never heal even with time.

“Yeah Ok.” Jason fixed his eyes on the door that was three doors to the right through the dimmed hallway. “Alright.” Jason was only just starting to freak out because this is Bruce he’s going to be meeting. Hell, it might not even be the Bruce he knows. What should he say? Would he even need to say anything at all? Wait, so why was he going to see Bruce?

Right, he was going to calm Bruce down. If this was another situation, for example, if Jason was interfering with some weapons trade and started shooting everyone, he’ll be able to calm and angry Bruce down by saying, ‘No, I didn't fucking kill anyone and yes, they’re alive,’ though whoever was left was usually on the verge of dying and sometimes in need of amputations. He would laugh at the idea of trying to calm the cold, stoic bat. It would all be some sick joke since practically everyone else out there that Bruce knew would be more eligible for the job than he would be.

But this, this was apparently different so whatever eligibility hierarchy there was before is now completely overthrown and Jason’s brain hasn’t caught up yet.

Alfred turned to look at Dick with a similar weariness behind his movements. “I think it is time that Master Tim takes his break. He has barricaded himself inside the cave and has taken nothing but coffee. It will do him good if you accompany him for a while.”

The butler quickly heads off to make something for Tim. Jason wonders how Alfred is able to feed so many people who are unable to cook without so much as making a mess of something. Jason had also assumed that Alfred would keep an eye on the situation but realised that Alfred must trust him, enough so that he was allowed to use his fine china and enter a room with a fragile ten-year-old Bruce inside. And the amount of trust that Alfred has given to him made his heart unexpectedly ache.

Then, there was Dick. They never got the chance or time to become better brothers. So the use of an old pet name Dick had for him caught him off guard.

“Jaybird?” Dick held Jason’s gaze for a moment as he thought of what to say. Jason found it both amusing and odd that the most sociably-sound, able-to-strike-up-conversations person out of all the batkids is holding back on his words.

“What?” Jason grunted.

“Thanks…Thanks for doing this.” Dick said.

Jason snorted and rolled his eyes. It really was out of character for Dick to thank him like this. “Don’t thank me yet. I might just make things worse than they already are.”

“No, you won’t.” Dick flashed Jason a smile. “It’ll be fine.”

“My ears sure won’t if he screams like that,” Jason utters, feeling coolly detached from the situation at hand.

“We can always get you fitted with hearing aids if it gets to that point.” Dick reaches out and tenderly brushes a few loose strands of white from Jason’s eyes and Jason tries his best to suppress himself from moving away from the sudden contact. Maybe it was a force of habit with the other two.

“Alright, I’ll ring you up if I ever need one of those.” Like hell he would. There’s still traces of the Lazarus within him and his ears can handle more than just a little screaming.

Dick leaves, his strides long and graceful as he heads towards the Cave. That just leaves him and Zatanna. Jason takes in a deep breath, hoping that it will steal him for what he has to face. He exhales and continues walking-

“Before you go, I think I should tell you something.” Zatanna pulls Jason aside by the wrist into a corridor by the side that leads to a bathroom. “I haven’t been completely open with the real reason we need you to meet with Bruce. Yes, he’s calling for you, but the reason behind it…it would’ve distressed Dick a little if I told you about it in front of him.”

“I thought you two talked it through already.” Jason furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and searched Zatanna’s eyes. “You said that you’ll be able to do your magic if I calm him down. I don’t see anything else to it.”

“Yeah, but do you know why I’ll be able to do that once he’s calm?” Zatanna’s gaze was piercing, daring him to interrupt her. “He’s hanging onto those memories of you. Voluntarily, if you will. He’s even managed to keep a firm hold on them when I tried to lock them up. From the looks of it, they are his freshest memories. They’re the most recent memories younger Bruce has from our Bruce, and they’re also the ones that are affecting younger Bruce the most.”

“Both you and Dick have said that he remembers me dead. Is it serious that it’s just one memory of me that’s stopping you.” Jason says. Zatanna still hasn’t let go of Jason’s wrist and he was starting to feel a little overwhelmed.

“Well, Mr Todd, you do leave quite the impression on people.”

“Yeah, but apparently I don’t leave the nicest ones.” Jason quickly murmured back.

“Uh huh but he ended up taking you in after all,” Zatanna replied. “You’re not as bad as you think you are.”

“I am, Zatanna, I never became the person he thought that I would be.” Jason bit back a laugh. “He should have just left me in that alleyway. Now all he does is gripe at all the things I do for Gotham whilst he sits back and deals with the things Gotham doesn’t need. He tails me wherever I go like he’s trying to chase down the ‘me’ he thought he knew. And now, what, this kid Bruce is hung up about it all over again because he just won’t fucking let go of it!”

Zatanna didn’t flinch nor move from her spot. She knows that Jason is just as hurt about as everyone else in the family is but his perception of those feelings he has are clouded by suffocating plumes of twisted resentment that is associated with Bruce.

“Even if those memories are painful to him, even if they are making him suffer, he’s not letting go of them because they’re important to him. You’re important to him, Jason.” She could practically feel the cold disbelief that radiated off from Jason. “I was surprised that I could lock away memories regarding this world’s Bruce’s parents…because he’s moved on. He has his own family and city to protect now, something that he didn’t have before. You’re part of the family he wants to protect to desperately.”

Jason doesn’t need to know all this. He didn’t need to know that all this wasn’t just Bruce being a stubborn brat and refusing to calm down – but were essentially specific memories, the memories of Jason’s death that was stopping Zatanna reciting her spell and him getting more sleep.

“I stopped being his ‘family’ ages ago! He made the very clear when he gave me this.” He spits out, downright feeling bitter all over again as he used his free hand to pull down his collar, revealing a thin white line that ran horizontally along the side of his neck. The slice of a Batarang. “He’s chosen that fucker over me more than just a few times.”

“Jason, those memories were the only things he had of you before everything went spiralling down. And they’re the only thing he has of you now as well.” Zatanna’s squeezed the grip he had on Jason’s wrist, “But, what Joker did to you…Bruce…he, he was distraught, broken and different afterwards. He couldn’t let it go. He couldn’t let himself because you mattered to him.”

He stops and stares at her, trying to decipher the meaning behind what she’s said about Bruce. Sure yeah, Bruce has changed, but it doesn’t change that fact that he looks perpetually brooding even without the cowl on. To Jason, it seemed like the change in Bruce was trifling. Same old stoic Bruce with his same old moral code.

Zatanna gave an exasperated sigh. “If you open yourself to your family a bit more you would be able to realise things you don’t now. You have to realise that they are your family and have never stopped being your family.”

Jason tries to fight the urge to stare at her red lips as they spoke passionately, or at her dark hair that flows as she shook her head. The teenage Jason within struggles a losing fight as he easily tosses away the urges. He’s over all the silly ways how he would blush a little, or linger a little longer when she comes and visits the manor sometimes. Flowers bloom and wither, and now he feels nothing more than acquaintanceship for the magician. It was oddly a calm feeling. Jason’s steady gaze doesn’t leave Zatanna’s sparkling light blue eyes for even a moment.

“I’m not in the position to ask but, please, pretend that the kid you’ll be seeing is not the Bruce you know, but someone who desperately needs you and your help,” Zatanna said, knowing that Jason does understand but simply hates showing that he cares. This aspect of his proves that he was raised by Bruce more so than not.

The desperate desire to protect those who can’t, especially children, is a shared trait between the two.

Zatanna’s hand slid away from her grip on Jason’s wrist and turned back towards the main hallway. Jason didn't give a definite yes or no, but Zatanna didn’t need to know it since she knew Jason’s answer from the beginning. In fact, when a head-strong person like Jason chooses voluntarily stay when he had a choice to back out, they will see it out until the end.

The two came to a stop at where they were supposed to arrive minutes ago but had a slight detour. Jason faced the closed wooden door. Undefined shadows caused by the dim lighting etched across the door, giving it texture and form, further reconsolidating the fact in Jason’s head that this is real. Not a dream, not a nightmare, not a hallucination.

Zatanna hovered a couple metres behind, understanding that this was something that Jason needed to do by himself.

“With deduction skills like yours,” Jason slightly turned his head, but he wasn’t fully facing Zatanna either, “why don’t you step up and take his mantle as Batman for a while?”

An amused chuckle rolled out from Zatanna’s lips. “We established ages ago that his life as Batman wouldn’t be able to match up with mine…and we left it at that.” If Jason could see Zatanna’s face right now, he would see an amount of sentimentality he wouldn’t usually associate with the lively and energetic magician.

Jason realised that ‘we’ was Bruce and her, and suddenly realised that maybe that they had something more between them, once upon a time.

“Yeah, it wouldn’t suit you.” The smile that graced Jason didn’t last long. He placed his hand on the metal handle, hesitated, took a breath in, then out, then pushed.

--

This chapter, was hard to write. I was writing it in disjointed sections and I’m not confident with my ability to write conversations between two people so I kept on editing it. This chapter is to shed more light on what’s going on (because I tend to just write without realising that other people don’t know what the heck is going on) and to further develop the plot.

I’ve sort of like the idea of Jason having had a thing for Zatanna, but moves on. I wanted it to symbolise that Jason has changed, that he wasn’t the person he was before, but not someone entirely different either, like a bildungsroman in a way.

Here’s the next part >> Part 4 <<

[subasekabang]

Ties We Bind (& Break), Chapter 3

Author: @composeregg Rating: T Word Count: 15435, Chapter total: 3415 Pairings/Characters: Joshua/Neku, Shiki/Eri, Joshua & Neku & Shiki & Beat & Rhyme & Eri in a queerplatonic poly-pile relationship. Hanekoma, Kariya. Warnings: Includes depression heavily, and mentions of suicide. Summary: One year after the Long Game, a tall boy named Yuuto Kimura, who has messy black hair, glasses, and bright green eyes, stumbles into Neku’s life, and he can’t help but let him get close, letting him join the circle of friends.

One year after the Long Game, Joshua aches to hang out with Neku again, but the restrictions he’s gained for his transgressions are very clear: Yoshiya Kiryu, Composer of Shibuya, is not to interact with Neku Sakuraba.

(But every rule has a loophole.)

Author’s Note: Each chapter is also being added to ao3! Here! (Small delay per chapter).

Featuring autistic/neurodivergent characters, the “Joshua is Neku’s Dead Best Friend” theory, and lots of headcanons abound.

“So not that you ain’t cool, man, but what’cha doin’ at this meet?” Beat asks, looking at Yuuto.

They’re gathered at Hachiko on a Saturday, like they’ve done twice a month since the Game. Without Eri, so they could hang out as former Game Players.

At least, Beat thought that’s what this was, but Yuuto is standing near. He’d tagged along with Neku to the meetup. None of the others are questioning it, and it makes Beat feel left out of the loop.

“Mm, and here I thought this was for people who’ve played the Game,” he says with a smile, and Beat freezes.

“Sorry, I told him I was meeting up with you guys and he invited himself along,” Neku says. “I told Shiki already, she was the first to show up last Sunday besides me, so we got to chat, but yeah. He apparently played a few years back.”

“It’s been a while since my Game week. I got to play under the previous Composer, in fact; there’s been a regime change since.” Neku frowns at that statement, a flicker across his face before it’s gone, but Beat catches it.

He also notices Rhyme’s reaction, or… lack of it. So he nudges them. “And how come you ain’t surprised by this?”

They shrug, hesitating. “I… I could feel it. My instincts said he’d been touched by the Game, and trusting your instincts is important.”

Ah.

Beat wraps an arm around them, giving a big squeeze. He knows they haven’t told the others yet, and he hasn’t either, but they don’t keep secrets from each other, and… Being a Noise for a bit did something to Rhyme. They get glimpses of the UG, see and feel the presence of Noise, and sometimes they talk about it. Noise running on basic emotions, how it’s heightened their instincts, and how they have to restrain those more now.

Being a Reaper means he didn’t get out unscathed either. The UG is greyscale, hazy, but there in his sights. Power pulses under his skin, buried deep in his core. It’s locked away, he can’t reach it, but if he could…

It’s not a risk he’s willing to take. Beat doesn’t want to be a Reaper, and he doesn’t need that power.

“So, where should we hang out today?” Shiki asks, steering the conversation back onto the tracks. “I’d offer the studio, but Eri said she wanted to get some work done, so she’s there right now.”

“Me and Rhyme’s parents is home, so our place is a no-can-do, sorry yo,” he says.

“And my place is too small to hold us all. Or at least, my mom thinks so, and she’s home.” Neku sighs.

Yuuto grins, and chimes in, “I don’t mean to be presumptuous, asking if you’d like to come to my place, but… Like I said before, rich parents and I live alone.”

“Cool wit’ me,” says Beat, and the others agree.

One quick walk later and, “You live here!?” Shiki gasps, holding a hand to her chest. “If you can afford a Pork City apartment, you must not’ve been joking about rich family!”

“Not just any apartment, the penthouse. The lap of luxury, all to myself!” He laughs, rolling his eyes. “It’s so boring and lonely being isolated there all the time.”

It’s an expensive place to rent, Beat knew that, but as they walk through the halls illuminated by chandeliers and past lounges and rooms of all sorts to the elevator, it starts to sink in just how extravagant this place is.

“It’s a bit much, I think,” Yuuto says, “but I’m not gonna argue where my parents put me. Just a heads up though, a lot of Reapers live here too. I think it’s part of being in the Game, they still need a place to stay, after all.”

With a flourish, he opens the door, and plops down on a recliner chair. Beat follows him in, as do the rest, and Yuuto instructs them to make themselves at home so they all get situated. Neku stakes a claim on the other empty chair, while Beat ends up on the couch, Rhyme in the middle, with Shiki on the other end.

“Sooo,” says Yuuto, “what do y’all do when you gather like this, Players only?”

“Talk, vent, throw stuff at each other, make bad jokes and memes,” Neku says, slipping his headphones down so they rest around his neck. “We should probably share Game stories first, since you’re new here.”

Yuuto nods. “Mm… Well, I played about two years ago. My partner was Uzuki Yashiro,” he says, continuing without noticing the way the rest of them tense, the way the background music jumps as the CD hits a scratch. “She’s a Reaper now, as far as I know. We did not get along well, but we survived.”

“She’s awful,” Shiki groans. “We all had to deal with her, and she’s a manipulative slimy asshole.”

“Sounds about right,” he says with a snort. The next words out of Yuuto’s mouth were softer: “My Fee was my friend’s memories of me. They managed to nitpick something I’d done, and I didn’t get it back. He remembers nothing.”

Neku winces, Shiki gasps, Rhyme closes their eyes and sighs, and Beat… He can only think of Rhyme, and how they never recognized him as their brother. Every little thing they should’ve been able to think of, from calling him bro to their jokes and the quiet nights they’d whisper to each other, not wanting to be alone. Losing that, forever?

It’d destroy him.

“I can’t imagine what it’d be like to forget someone so close to you forever,” Neku says. He’s sitting sideways on the chair, legs draped over one of the armrests and his head against the other. “I mean, the memories are just gone? How do you not realize you’re missing something? How do other people not notice, if they were so close to you?”

“I remember,” Rhyme sighs. “I remember what it was like to forget. It’s like, you know that person exists, know who they were to you, but all the little details were gone. Name, face, specific memories… dust in the wind.”

Beat wraps an arm around them, and they lean on him. Soft touches, a solid presence, reminders that they’re there for each other. That they haven’t left or forgotten.

Yuuto nods at the words, and dangles himself upside-down off the chair, hair skimming the wooden floor. “He doesn’t remember me. He knows he had a friend, but I haven’t tried to rekindle that bond… I miss him, but I lost it all when I lost my Fee.”

“Well hey, maybe you’ll get another chance someday!” Shiki says, cheer infused in her voice. “Not every end is final, and even if he doesn’t remember the details, I’m sure he’d love to have an old friend back.” She’s hops up on the back of the couch, feet hanging in front of the back cushion.

“The world begins with you and all that jazz, huh?” Yuuto snorts. “Your world gets bigger if you reach out to others. Maybe I’ll tell him, sometime. For now, I’ll wait and see what the future holds.”

Chat: [It’s not gay if we’re dead]

[Emo gay has added Yuuto Kimura to the chat]

Emo gay: Welcome to the dead kid’s club.

A lot of this chat is Shiki yelling about how cute Eri is.

An entire 50% of this chat is all of us being queer.

Fashion lesbian: Listen,

She’s beautiful and I’m gay as hell.

And she’s not in this chat so I’m allowed to scream.

Yuuto Kimura: Noted.

[Yuuto Kimura has changed their name to Music queer]

Music queer: I figured I should fit the theme.

Space battery: Nice name!

Music queer: Thanks I picked it out myself!

I must ask, though, why battery?

Space battery: I’m triple-A.

Skateboard ace: And they always got enough energy to charge up everyone else

Space battery: Beat,

You should take a look at yourself sometime, you’ve got enough energy to power the sun!

Emo gay: Another 20% of this chat is these two being adorable siblings so jot that down.

Music queer: What’s the last 30%?

Emo gay: 20% memes and dead jokes, 10% depression.

Music queer: You know what? Valid.

I think I’ll fit right in.

Rhyme likes Yuuto, they really do! It’s been a month since he’s joined the group, and he’s been nothing but fun. Maybe not the nicest, he likes to tease Neku, but he’s got good intentions, so they like him!

It’s just…

There’s something wrong about him.

Indescribably, horrifically wrong.

Noise do not draw near him. If one gets too close, they freeze and dart away. His mere presence wards them all, and Rhyme can sense it, the Noise are afraid.

Rhyme knows this, because they feel the same.

An instinctual terror, prickling at the hair on their arms, raising the alarm. They squash it down, tuck it away until it doesn’t bother them, but it’s there. Clawing at the back of their throat.

They’ve felt it before, in the presence of Neku’s 2nd week Game Partner. Joshua.

It’s fuzzy, grey-scaled and water-damaged, but they remember being a Noise, operating on instinct alone. They remember when they were returned to a human form, to life.

They remember the Composer.

So they message him.

Rhyme: Hey can we talk today? At WildKat, preferably.

Yuuto: Sure. May I ask why?

Rhyme: You can, but I’m not answering that here, only in person.

Which is how they find themself seated in a booth across from Yuuto after school that evening. Untouched coffee sits before both of them, steam curling up and away.

“So,” he draws, picking up his cup, “Are you going to answer my question now?”

They nod. “Your name is actually Joshua, and you’re the Composer.”

Coffee splashes over the table and over his lap as Yuuto flinches back and drops it. With a yelp, he jumps up, hissing, “Ow! Fuuuuck that’s hot!”

They watch as he hops around, grabbing at napkins to clean up. With a roll of their eyes, they say, “I’m right, aren’t I? You can use your powers if I am, no sense hiding them.”

He spares a glance at Rhyme, and then waves a hand to make the mess disappear.

“Well, I’m sure that answers your question,” he says, sliding back into his seat. “Do I get to know how you figured it out?”

“I remember,” they say. “Not… Not well, most of my time as Noise is static, but I remember what it’s like. During the second week of it all, I know Neku’s Partner set me on edge, and when the Composer brought me back, I remember that flighty feeling from then, too. You’ve got the same vibe.”

Yuuto rubs his forehead, taking a long, deep breath. “This was unexpected,” he mutters. “You want to know why I’m lying about my identity, I assume.”

Rhyme nods. “I also want to know if you plan on messing with Neku again,” they say. When Yuuto’s eyes widen, they cut in before he can speak. “He didn’t tell us what you did, but we can all see how he acts. You did something. You don’t have to tell me what you did, Neku isn’t ready for us to know, but I want to make sure you won’t do it again.”

“Fair enough,” he says, and then his color starts to bleed away.

The black seeps out of his hair, and it bounces into wavy curls. Green flashes to purple in his eyes, and his skin goes a few shades paler. Nothing about the structure of his face changes, but he takes off his glasses, and there’s Joshua, sitting in front of them.

“I’ll start simple. I promise I mean no harm to Neku.” At their snort, he frowns. “I mean that! I hold my past actions in great contempt. I wasn’t in a good space, mentally. Like, you met Neku early on during the Game, I was like that, but a hundred times worse.”

“Oh.”

He laughs. “Yeah, oh. I won’t say what I did, but it was bad, and he has every right to be mad. I didn’t expect him to want to see me, after everything.”

“He does though, so hiding behind a false face is a cowardly move.”

“My superiors would rather I not interact with him at all. This is my loophole,” he says, which, what?

It’s a puzzle, and they don’t have all the pieces, but with some work and head-tilting, they can still make out the picture. “You were told not to meet up with him, weren’t you?”

“Bingo, but they specified Yoshiya Kiryu, Composer of Shibuya, not Yuuto Kimura, ex-Game Player who lived in America these past two years.”

Rhyme crosses their arms over their chest, leaning back. “Clever. Going to fake this forever, then?”

“Nah, working on getting that rule repealed.”

“And what will you do when it is? Your reveal will be another betrayal, another way you stab him in the back, because he’ll think it’s been an elaborate joke.” It’s dramatic, but Neku would. At first.

Joshua snorts. “I know him better than you do. I know he’ll call me an asshole and think I’m messing with him, pulling his strings, but I have some stuff I can say, which might help.”

“What sort of stuff?”

“The truth.”

“Okay, so first things first, we need to get your measurements!” Shiki says, measuring tape in hand as Eri grabs the notepad and pen.

Yuuto laughs. “No time to waste?”

The studio is a mess, mannequins with half-finished projects hanging off them, fabric strewn across the floor, needles shoved into the armrest of the couch, spools of thread in corners and on shelves, and design papers scattered around the room.

It’s perfect. Creativity spawned from this disaster, beauty found in the calamity of a localized tornado. Shibuya’s life shines bright in spaces like this, her Soul strengthened, bursting with energy.

Were he not Yuuto right now, he’d love to soak up the Imagination and refine it, give them good luck for ages.

“Of course, of course! Why dilly-dally when we can get this ball rolling?” Eri laughs, pulling him out of the doorway and into the room proper. “Now let Shiki work her magic!”

He does, standing still as Shiki measures and calls out numbers. Eri dutifully writes them down, and he lets Shiki adjust his positioning as needed to get the most accurate results.

Once Shiki has the measurements, he plops down onto the couch, a grin on his face. There’s more than enough seating for the three of them. The entire gang had crashed here the day before. “So, this thing you’re gonna have me model, what is it?”

Eri flits around, grabbing her sketchpad and pencils, before sitting at her desk. “We’re going to start with something simple first. Maybe a basic suit, or a dress? You could rock either. How do you feel about pink? I feel like it’d suit you well. Or maybe a bright green, or something more forest-y. It’d go well with your eyes.”

“Ooh, pink is always fun, but you’re right, green would match my eyes. I absolutely love blues and purples too, by the way!” He leans back, pulling out a sheet of paper for himself, and a pencil. “Musical motifs are fun, since I’m a composer of music.”

Shiki’s head snaps up to look at him, but he gives no reaction back. Eri, meanwhile is going “Oooh,” and scrawling that down as a note.

“Music notes would be cool to work into some of the things we make you in the future! Little embroidered notes and designs! It’d be super cute!” she says, a grin lighting up her face.

Danger lurks in the room, Shiki refusing to take her eyes off him, but Eri remains oblivious. He gives Shiki a wink, after a moment, playing it off with a shrug. She huffs, and turns her attention back to the doodles Eri is scrawling.

“Mm, we could add some lacework, couldn’t we?” she asks.

Yuuto sighs, tapping his fingers against the fabric of the couch. “If you do add lace, could you keep it minimal or in places that won’t rub against my skin? The texture can be irritating as all hell.”

“Noted!” Eri scribbles that down in the margins as well. At this rate, they’re no doubt going to have a folder on his preferences and design ideas.

The thought of them keeping a record on him sends a spark of warmth through his heart. Watching them squabble over design ideas in the afternoon sunlight, filtering in through the window, makes the sight look like home.

The kid sitting in front of Koki is not one he knows. It’s not one he’s ever met or talked to before. He’d been enjoying his meal when this kid walked into Ramen Don and sat across from him.

Except that’s a lie.

Koki might not know this kid with short black hair and green eyes, but he knows those glasses, he knows that grin, and he knows the Music.

“What’s up, J?”

“Shhh, I’m Yuuto like this, remember?” He holds a finger to his lips, hiding his smile. “Can’t have you talking about my secret when the others could waltz right in and see me.”

Koki snorts. “And what will they say if they walk in on their good friend Yuuto having lunch with a Reaper?”

“They know I’ve always seen the UG, I’ll just tell them the truth. I’ve known you since before I ever played, and you’re just a weird uncle type dude.” Yuuto grins, and orders some Shio while they talk.

“Alright, you got me there. I pull off weird uncle well, don’t I?” he asks with a laugh.

“You do, you really do.”

Koki takes a bite of his own ramen, slurping it up. It’s been a while since he’s gotten food with the little brat, but it’s well worth it to make sure he’s eating. The kid always forgets to take care of himself, so if Koki has to step up the family-figure role in his life to ensure he does, so be it.

“So, how’s the whole friends thing goin’, anyway? It’s been a few months so far, right?”

Josh shrugs. “Yeah, it has. It’s going good. They’re all… really nice to me,” he says, fiddling with his hair. “Like, Rhyme, the one that got Erased, they figured out who I am, and they still accept me, though… They don’t know the whole story, but still!”

Ramen arrives, and so Josh has to speak between bites now, as Koki sits and listens to him ramble. “Neku checks up on me and makes sure I’m not left out. He keeps me from retreating into my shell. Shiki and Eri have already been working on making me clothes because they need more models,” he laughs. “Beat is trying to teach me how to skateboard, and I have to remember not to heal up my scrapes and bruises because that’d be suspicious.”

“You’re happy with them all, huh?” he asks. It’s obvious to him, the way Josh lights up, even in this false form. This is the most friends he’s ever had, and it shows in the hands he waves in the air, the glint of life in his eyes, how much this means to him.

“Yeah! I mean, I wish I could tell Neku,” the blinding smile dims at the statement, “but I can’t. This is the best alternative to that.”

“Hey, in a year or two? You’ll be able to tell him, so don’t sweat about that. I’m sure he’ll understand.” With the way his mom raised him, he’d better, Koki doesn’t say, but he thinks it. It had taken a bit of digging, and it’s such a trivial fact, one thread of being related, but it’s there.

He died before he could see his little sister have children, over a hundred years ago. Now, he’s found a distant descendant. He’s an uncle, with a few greats in front of the grand, but he’s an uncle to somebody alive.

The conversation continues, both of them unaware of the figure watching from outside the window. With a snap, Shiki takes a picture of Yuuto hanging out with a Reaper, eyes narrowing.

She’s got her suspicions. They’ve grown a bit stronger now.

[smolbeansnook]

Humbug

   Kaylyn pets the cats when she’s sad.

   It’s the holiday season, honestly. Don’t get her wrong, Kay loves Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. Halloween’s special because she gets to throw on a costume and sit on the front steps outside her apartment door, a bowl of bite-sized candies in her lap while children race up and down the concrete pathway to greet her. Sure, her costume isn’t the best or the flashiest every year (2016, she dressed as Darkwing Duck and all she had to show for it was a black cape and some sort of crappy plastic duck beak mask), and sure, she doesn’t have the full-sized bars of candy because, let’s be honest, she’s not made of money and the budget’s tight, and sure, she doesn’t always have the world’s best Halloween decorations on display by her windows.

   These factors, however, don’t deter her from handing out Reese’s, Snickers and Milky Ways to the next Captain America or Harry Potter that wanders up to her bowl. Kay likes to make kids smile. She likes watching the parents take pictures.

   Thanksgiving is a little tougher, but not so bad. Last year, Kay made the mistake of trying to cook her own turkey in the oven and nearly burned her apartment down, so this year, she bought thirty dollars worth of Popeyes and ate it all by herself while she FaceTimed with her brother and watched A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving. Bucky, her retired German shepherd that she adopted when she first joined Steelheart City’s police force, lay his big head on her left thigh and gazed at his owner with large, sad brown eyes until he was inevitably given the handouts he worked oh so hard for. Kay gets to talk to Kaelan and that’s all swell, she can’t really complain.

   Christmas, however… Christmas is the holiday that hits her the hardest. It’s the one time of year that Kay misses her parents the most. Her father enlisted in the air force and had been shot down after maybe two years of active duty. Her mother initially survived a collision including her tiny Subaru and a semi-truck, but didn’t make it to the hospital with a heartbeat. Kay’s last family Christmas was fourteen years ago, when she was six years old and her papa gifted her a brand new pair of red sneakers for soccer. Now, her parents are six feet under with only pictures and graves left behind. Her twin brother is off at some expensive college and spending Christmas with some broad that he thinks just might be his true love. Kay’s uncle, who’s not really her uncle but did help raise her, is spending Christmas with his own family in the other side of the country, and Kay couldn’t follow him because, well, she’s a cop, and cops stay home.

   Kay decorates her Christmas tree alone. She buys presents alone. She listens to holiday music alone. She sticks a bow on Bucky’s head and takes a picture for social media alone. Before that, however, Kay goes to the pet shop to see if she can’t find anything to buy her old dog for Christmas, and that’s when she usually finds the kitties in their cages toward the front of the store, waiting to be adopted.

   So, yeah. Kaylyn pets the cats when she’s sad. She’s sure that she’s bothered the owner by coming in almost every single day for the last week, but she just couldn’t help herself.. “Oh, I’m just taking another look at that collar for old Buck,” she’d say, and then stroll casually over to the cages by the windows and reach through the arm-holes to pet soft fur and fuzzy ears. The owner didn’t have the heart to tell her to buy what she wants and leave, because it’s Christmas, and the only person who can be that heartless on Christmas is Scrooge, and he’s a story. Or at least, Kay’s pretty sure Scrooge is just a story. Oh man, what if Scrooge was based on a real person who hates Christmas, and then saw ghosts? Who hates Christmas, anyway?! Wait, Kay, stay focused. Pet the cats.

   “Humbug.”

   A sudden, single spoken word snapped Kay out of her trance of sad thoughts and Christmas ponderings. Blinking her blue eyes, she now noticed that she switched from petting the black and white kitty to petting the brown and peach kitty. The feline’s fur was soft beneath her fingertips. A long-hair, for sure, but Kay had no idea what breed the cat is. The young woman used her free hand to gently tuck her ebony hair behind her ear, and as she did so, she turned her body just slightly to look over her shoulder.

   Behind her, only a few feet away, there stood a rather tall man in the petshop’s work uniform. The uniform came with a rather ridiculous-looking bright yellow vest and blue trousers, but the clothes weren’t what struck Kay as odd. It was the hair. The man had vibrant blue hair, and even worse, vibrant blue eyebrows. She couldn’t tell if this employee had dyed his hair such an unnatural color, or if he was born with some horrific color-changing mutation. After a few moments of simply staring at the employee, Kay realized she finally hadn’t spoken yet. In her sudden effort to think of something to say, all she could muster up was,

   “What?”

   “The cat.” The man smiled, taking a small step closer to the cages - and by extension Kay - and gestured to the cat the woman was petting with a long, slender finger. “Humbug. That’s his name.”

   Kay’s lashes fluttered as she blinked in momentary confusion, allowing her gaze to drift from the employee’s finger toward the cage. The cat sat on the other side, her green eyes now staring up at the woman with confusion, as if the kitty was wondering why the human had stopped petting her. Kay’s brain took a few moments to process what she was being told, and then, finally, it clicked.

   “Oh! Humbug!” The woman’s eyes lit up and she began to softly laugh, although anyone could have guessed that her laughter was born from nervousness. “Who would ever give a cat that name? Or any animal?”

   Kay let her gaze drift back to the employee’s face, only to notice that the man was smiling a little wider than before. “It’s not the most terrible name to give an animal.” The man’s voice, combined with his appearance, led Kay to believe that he might have been in his mid twenties, maybe just barely shy of twenty-five. He continued, “We once got a rottweiler named Hades in the store. Nicest dog I’ve ever met. I spent ten minutes of my shift feeding him treats while his owner went outside to smoke.”

   Kay’s smile, previously faint and polite, soon transitioned to something a little more genuine. She giggled - sincerely this time - and slowly withdrew her hand from Humbug’s fur. “Is that right?”

   “That’s right.” The employee nodded. Kay noticed the man’s eyes following the movement of her hand, although his gaze soon returned to her face. Once again, he smiled at her. “Were you considering adopting one of our furry friends, here? Humbug’s the oldest, been here the longest, and she needs a good home.”

   “Oh, no, I couldn’t.” Kay immediately chimed, trying to ignore the guilt slowly creeping up the back of her head. “I mean, I’d love to, but, uh… I’ve got a shepherd at home and I’m not sure how well he’d do with cats.”

   The employee, again, gave a slow nod, his expression unwavering. “Part of my job here at Elenclaw Pets is to stroll on over to this neck of the store and convince you to adopt, but… that isn’t necessarily why I’m standing here.” Finally, the man’s smile flickered, faltering just slightly. “This isn’t the first time I’ve seen you petting the cats this week.”

   Kay could immediately feel every muscle in her body tense up, anxiousness washing through her mind like waves crashing on the surface of a wide, dark ocean. “Are you kicking me out? Look man, I’m sorry, I know I come here all the time and never actually buy a cat or a toy or anything, it’s just…” As Kay trailed off, she suddenly found herself at a loss for words. What was she supposed to tell this man? The employee stood there, patiently waiting for the young woman to finish her sentence. Kay knew she owed the man something, some sort of actual response rather than unfinished thoughts, but… she was left with nothing. Feeling a bit idiotic, Kay slowly rolled her shoulders in a gentle shrug. To her surprise, the man spoke again, his voice gentle.

   “I’m not kicking you out.” He told Kay, taking a moment to think and shifting his weight a bit where he stood, as if making himself more comfortable after standing in the same place for so long. He then continued, “I just happened to notice you stop in lately to look. It’s fine for you to come in and visit the cats, God knows they need attention, except… well… most people smile when they pet animals.” The man’s eyes, a much deeper blue than Kay’s own, studied the woman’s face. “I just noticed that you don’t smile when you pet them.”

   What the hell is Kay supposed to say to that? Caught between embarrassed and surprised, the young woman hardly knew what words to shove out of her talking-hole. “I, uh…” Kay could feel heat flush her face as a rosish hue dusted her ivory cheeks, a very good representation of her inner turmoil. Finally, unknowing of what sort of response to give the man, she simply swallowed thickly and opted for, “I, uh… guess I don’t.” She lowered her gaze, unable to look him directly in the eye anymore, and instead glanced toward Humbug again. Once more, she reached through the arm-hole of the glass barrier and gently pet Humbug’s fur. Soft rumbling came from the feline’s small body, as if Kay had jump-started a motor that ran on happiness and love. A thought suddenly pierced Kay’s mind, a way to save this embarrassing moment, and she suddenly found herself laughing nervously. “You’re… kinda observant, huh?”

   The Elenclaw Pets employee chuckled - actually chuckled, the noise coming from deep within his throat and could have very well been mistaken for a rumbling lion if one wasn’t listening very well - and gave a slow shrug of his shoulders. “Anyone else would have told me I’m creepy.”

   “A pet store employee telling me he watches me pet cats every day and notices I don’t smile? No, not creepy at all.” Kay managed to form a good enough sentence to produce a response. Ah, yes, good. Jokes. Jokes is a good way out of any awkward situation.

   The employee’s chuckling turned into soft laughter. He settled one hand on his hip and reached out with his other to prop his palm against the wall, eyeing the young woman. “Would it be alright with you if I asked you why you’re so sad?”

   Kay shot the man a quick look, “Who said I’m sad?”

   “You do. Every time you come in.” The employee shot back. “Every time you wander over to the cats and take a look at them. You don’t smile. You just talk to them, too soft for anyone to hear, and you always look…” The man paused in speech a moment, as if thinking, and then continued, “...forlorn.”

   The rosish hue that dusted Kay’s cheeks turned just a little bit darker. Unable to look directly at the employee anymore, she simply stared at Humbug. What could she say to this guy? What could she tell this man, a simple pet store employee, an NPC in her life who’s opinion hardly even mattered? She couldn’t just say nothing, so…

   “The same bullshit reason everyone looks sad today.” Kay answered softly. “It’s Christmas Eve.”

   A sudden silence fell between the two. For several long, horrible moments, they simply said nothing. Kay kept her gaze on the cat, and she didn’t want to know if the employee was looking at her or looking elsewhere. She knew he was still there - she could see him in her peripheral - but she just didn’t have the heart to make eye-contact.

   Finally, after those few moments passed, the employee cleared his throat. “I see.” Was the answer he chose to give her. A few more moments passed. Seconds seemed to stretch by like minutes, and Kay was too polite to walk away and abruptly end an innocent conversation. Just before the silence could be deemed anymore awkward, the man’s voice pierced the air again. “Miss… our shop isn’t usually open on holidays, but… Humbug, here… she gets quite a bit lonely.” He paused. “Tomorrow is Christmas… and by some holiday miracle, the doors might just be unlocked, and if they are, well… I’m sure Humbug could use some company.”

   Humbug’s green eyes stared into Kay’s blue ones. Kay hesitated, her hand stilling on the cat’s fur, before the young woman finally mustered up the courage to look up at the employee again. Once more, the man was smiling at her, standing there in his ridiculous bright yellow vest. It was then that Kay finally noticed a set of keys on the man’s belt, and she momentarily wondered if those keys happened to be the ones that opened the store’s doors.

   “I… don’t know what to say…” Kay managed. She finally smiled, feeling a bit of happiness bubble up in her chest. “Thank you, sir.”

   “My pleasure.” The employee replied. He turned away, just slightly, and lifted his hand off of the wall to instead slightly wave to Kay. “If there was anything else you needed, miss, I’ll be by the reptiles.”

   Kay watched the employee turn and begin to head away, strolling down the tile path with long legs. “Wait!” The young woman suddenly found herself calling out, even though she was, like, ninety percent sure her brain didn’t plan that. The employee stopped upon command, and turned to look at her. Kay smiled, her eyes giving the man a once-over. That blue hair didn’t look so bad now. “What’s your name?”

   The man cracked another smile. “Lawrence.” He told her. Then, finally, he turned on his heel again and walked off, this time uninterrupted by Kay’s calls. The ebony-haired woman watched the employee walk off, then turned to look at the cats again.

   Humbug stared at Kay, the feline’s eyes almost half-lidded with some sort of unreadable expression. “What?” Kay asked. Humbug simply yawned, withdrew from Kay’s touch, and curled up in the corner of her cage to get some sleep. Kay broke out into a ridiculous grin that she simply couldn’t wipe off her face. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her coat, she headed for the doors. Just as she reached the exit, she turned back to look for Lawrence, only to see the employee by the reptile section, looking right back at her. Kay smiled and waved. Lawrence waved back, and the two then turned away from each other, and went about their business. Kay headed to her car, almost a bit reluctantly.

   Christmas didn’t sound too bad, suddenly.

- - - -

A/N: So I got a sudden burst of writing inspiration (I don’t EVER GET THOSE OMG) and banged this out in about an hour and a half, I think. I don’t know, it’s like 11:30 at night and I’m tired. Anyway, these characters are actually based off of two WoW OC RP characters that I have with a very good friend. I love giving modern twists to things, and I figured that I’d like to see my little paladin in a bit calmer of a setting than Alliance vs Horde. So here’s Kay suffering through the holidays.

Context: -Elenclaw Pets, the name is based off of another character belonging to another RP partner. -Steelheart is where my character currently lives in WoW. It’s a made-up place. -Yes, Bucky is adorable and you should love him.

[derenyanai]

Araquu Journal Session #6- Cecily and Aldrid

Time: A day after Episode Twelve Characters: Cecily, Aldrid, Willow, Navi

Posts indented like this were typed by the GM.

Posts that were not indented were typed by the players.

The aftermath of the mission at Lakeshore Library has left Cecily with an unusual dilemma. As a show of companionship, Aldrid offers his assistance...

Aldrid knocks upon Cecily's Door, standing back and wrapping his arms behind his back, waiting for her to answer said door.

It takes a few minutes before footsteps can be heard inside the apartment, getting closer to the door. Before long, Cecily opened the and faces Aldrid. “Aldrid?” Cecily raises her visible eyebrow. “What are you doing here? And... when did you find out where I live?”

"To answer ze latter question..." Aldrid starts. "I'm essentially a detective, I figured it out. As for the former..." He looks her over. "...You have a date, no?"

“Um, apparently yes,” Cecily said, darting her eyes to the side. She admittedly wasn’t trying to focus too hard on that situation she put herself in. That case O’Hara gave them at the library gave them much desired access to any type of research. And in order to improve her job’s efficiency... she accepted a date with a witch named Willow. Still not 100% sure what her thinking was on that choice. “Wait, why are you asking?”

"...When you accepted said date your eyes dilated nearly fifteen percent, the lids widened and your breath shortened. You also perspired slightly... this believes me to believe you are nervous about such a thing, or...more accurately, you have no idea what you are doing."

“H-huh?” Cecily said in visible befuddlement. “What kind of weird deduction is that? Do you do that to everyone you work with?”

"Only those who are horrendously out of their depth." He responds.

Cecily only raises a finger to retort, before slumping over in defeat. “Ugh, I have no idea how a date works,” she groans. “I’ve spend most of my time practicing swordsmanship, not stuff like this. What did I get myself into?”

"Hence, I will assist you on this." He says simply.

“You’re going to what now?” Cecily said with sudden concern.

"I will assist you in preparing for your date."

“What?!” her eye widened. “Why?!”

"...Because you look like you need it." He states. "may I come in?"

“But, wait, I...” Cecily tried to protest before facepalming. “Ugh, come inside.”

Aldrid nods gently. "Danke..." He says as he enters the home...and immediately removes his shoes.

Cecily’s apartment doesn’t seem messy inside, granted it’s only her living there, but it’s at least well kept. The eye patched swordswoman over to the open room that acts as the small living room and sits on the couch. “So... how do you plan on helping me exactly?”

"Well, we can start with your expectations." Aldrid says. "What do you expect to happen on zis date?"

“Uh...” Cecily only rubs the back of her head. “...people getting to know each other or something?” Well... that’s one of the basic principles.

"Very good." Aldrid nods. "It is... something akin to fencing." he says, trying to help her find common ground. "In a way, you must show her who you are and what you are made of... yet- you must also keep your own motives and wishes more secretive... give a little, but not too much, yes?"

“Uh, okay, that’s a fair analogy,” Cecily cuffed her chin in thought. Like fencing? Sure she never specialize in that type of swordsplay, but she studied enough on the style itself. So in a way the comparison made sense. “Is that really all there is to it? Or is that just the nutshell?”

He chuckles. "If I could explain it as simply as that, I would not have bothered coming over... no- I believe you will be fine with the general concept. It is the... fine technique that I am worried about." He states.

“...Fine technique?” Cecily said in confusion. She for some reason didn’t feel as confident when he used those terms regarding the topic. “What do you mean by that?”

"For instance... what do you intend to wear?"

“Wouldn’t what I usually wear be just fine?” Cecily asks. Oh dear.

"Precisely." He sighs. "You must give an impression of yourself beyond what you are seen as normally."

“And, dare I ask, how would I do that?”

"...What are your nicest clothes?"

“Uh...” Cecily tried to dig into her memory. “Well, I have a formal dress that I usually wear at traditional gatherings but...”

"May I see it, please?"

A buzz from Cecily's phone as she gets a text message. And then, a few moments later, Aldrid gets one as well.

“Uh, yeah, just... one sec,” Cecily claps her hands together and looks at her phone.

Aldrid sighs, annoyed. How many times does he have to tell people not to text him?! He checks his messages, his phone flips up satisfyingly. 

Both messages are from Willow! The one for Cecily reads: 'Hey I just realized we didn't actually figure out any details when should we meet up how formal etc etc??' The one for Aldrid reads: 'YOU KNOW CECILY RIGHT I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO IMPRESS HER I HAVEN'T BEEN ON A DATE IN EVER'

Crap, it’s Willow. Cecily should of figured that the witch would contact her first. But how the hell would she respond? In a slight panic, she only points at her screen to Aldrid because the man apparently knows more about this date stuff than the swordswoman does.

Aldrid pauses. "..." He sighs... and tries with all his might to not facepalm at this situation. "...I- ..." He then realizes what he's just gotten himself into. "...Please be prepared with coffee, we will be here a while."

“I only have tea, will that work?” Cecily sheepishly smiles.

"It will." He texts back 'TTYL PLS DN TXT"

Damn number-text things.

“Thanks, also what should I respond to this? Should I say a cafe or something?” Cecily says, still pointing at her phone screen.

"I would say... yes, a cafe would be a neutral and easy to work with locale."

“Right!” Cecily nodded, as she begins to quickly text the following: ’Café Bleu de la Lune should work. Just wear whatever makes you look best I guess’ After sending she puts her phone down and begins making tea.

Aldrid sighs, pulling up a notepad and starting to take notes.

It takes a good few minutes before Cecily gets the kettle of water hot enough and begins spooning in the tea leaves. Once she finishes steeping it, she pours out the completed drink into a mug and walks over to Aldrid with it. “So... what do you suggest I do?”

Aldrid looks toward her and takes the tea. "Danke... well, the first thing as I said, is that you must dress properly for the occasion. Considering this is a cafe and not say... a high end restaurant, you have more options." He says. "Although, you must still look your best... for instance, do you have a comb about?"

“Of course,” she nodded. “Is my usual hair style not going to do?”

"It will be fine. However we will want to take a few of those tangles out." He smiles. "...It is also my experience that if you wish to make a good first impression, a gift would help. Considering her interests, I have something that will help."

“If you say so,” she sighs, now sitting down. “I’ll just wear something more... casual and nice.”

He nods. "I believe that would be best, yes." He strokes his chin lightly as he reaches into his coat and pulls out a little tome and hands it to her.

Cecily only eyes up the book and holds it. “A tome?” She asks. “That... should work really well. Thanks.”

"To be specifc, it has information about very difficult to find and unusual ingredients. With notations from... er... my teacher." He explains. "She should find it rather useful."

Cecily places it back onto the table and stretches. “I guess I should go ahead and change, so that I know what I’m going to wear,” she sighs. “You just enjoy your tea while you wait.”

"Danke." He says as he sits back and pulls out a book... said book being a...  comic trade of sorts? Some sort of retelling of a superheroes' adventures, the Mighty Brutalibre to be precise.

It takes time for her to change, and before long, Cecily comes back out wearing a white tanktop and an open jacket over it. Also on her was a skirt and black boots, complimented with stockings. She’s holding her sword next to her waist and using the other hand to scratch her cheek. “Will this do?”

"You look nice, yes this is acceptable." Aldrid smiles genuinely. "However, I have a thought." He gestures to her blade. "I do not recommend carrying that in a relaxed setting."

"...fair point, eh heh," Cecily laughs, placing her sword against the wall.

"...Relaxed?" He asks, looking her body language over.

"Still... a bit anxious about the whole scenario," she admitted. "Is that normal?"

"I would be worried if you weren't feeling it." He kinda helps her with her posture.

“Well, that’s kind of comforting... in a weird sort of way,” walking over to where she left the tome.

"Is this your first then?"

"If that wasn't evident already, then yes," Cecily answered. "The most I know is from what my parents use to retell me in stories at some occasions."

"And how old are you?" Aldrid asks, crossing his arms.

"19, why?"

"Ah, you carry yourself as someone far older in most other respects. I had thought you such."

"That's suppose to be a compliment, right?"

"It was not meant to offend, just an observation." He states.

BZZ BZZ- Oh, a group message just came through. At some point, I suppose one of the DISC unit set up a group message window so they could send relevant messages to each other. For convenience's sake, or something. Anyway, the message is from Navi. It reads, "Taking Survey: is the best way to calm someone down punching them in the face"

Cecily only sweatdrops as she looks over the text and simply begins typing. 'No... should I ask why?'

'A friend of mine is freakin' out, something about a date and not wanting to be rude and bother the girl, tryin' to get her to calm her tits.'

"..." Oh lord help her. She had a feeling on who Navi was referring to. 'Is that so? Did she say who it was?'

'Hot Library Swordslady'

Oh yeah, they never traded names. God the situation is more awkward than expected. 'She'll be fine, the lady probably doesn't know any more what to do than her.' Well, that's certainly not a lie.

'How do I calm her down to tell her that, you haven't answered the first question, she's considering camping at the location if she doesn't get a time to meet'

'...I can explain.' Cecily anxiously texted back. It's clear that Navi knows.

'I'm not sure you can.'

'It was a case of situation and it just happened, I will explain this in detail later if you really want, just tell Willow that I'll be ready and heading over to the cafe shortly.' Cecily had to resist the urge to cover her face with a free hand.

'Will do. And Cecily, if you do anything to hurt her? Nothing in the city will make you able to hide from me.'

'Yes ma'am' gulped the swordswoman. No pressure or anything.

Aldrid glances to Cecily and blinks. "...You look as though you've contracted rotgut within the last twenty minutes, is something wrong?"

“Apparently, Navi knows Willow,” Cecily sweatdrops. “And... has established a type of ‘mutual understanding’.”

"I see." Aldrid looks on, rather surprised.

“That being said, she might kill me if I mess this up,” the swordswoman facepalms.

"I had suspected a close relationship between the two, however I did not account for the possibility that she was... that protective?"

“Well, it’s a good thing you showed up to help me,” she sighed. Can’t tell if that’s sarcasm or honesty. The mood in her voice is a bit mixed.

Aldrid just sorta walks up, places both hands on her shoulders and looks her in the eye. "You will be fine... if you have no intention of hurting her feelings I have no doubt you will be fine."

"...You have a point," Cecily says, darting her visible eye to the side. "I'm just overthinking this now, aren't I?"

"There is that possibility." Aldrid states. "...Now whether you succeed or fail, you'll still come away knowing more about yourself and a potential partner. Yes?"

“I, uh, wouldn’t know about potential partner just yet,” she awkwardly replied. “But... I guess it doesn’t hurt to be optimistic, eh heh.”

"Heh, just...keep an open mind."

“Sure thing,” Cecily says, taking a step back. “So... do I look ready?”

"...As ready as you can be." He nods.

“Heh, that’s better than nothing,” she smiles. “Thanks Aldrid.”

"Not a problem." He pats her on the shoulder. "If you need anything else do not hesitate."

“Sure thing.” Cecily walks back over to the table, grabbing the tome Aldrid gave to her. “I hope this isn’t a charged service like how you help us on missions,” she joked.

He chuckles. "Twenty percent on the meal." He responds equally joking.

Cecily laughs in response. “...That is a joke right?”

Aldrid chuckles.

Cecily only squints her eye at Aldrid.

He sighs. "In all seriousness, I make more than enough on my pay. I have no need to open business in the realm of date advice."

“Certainly would be odd for a Monster Hunter to be selling that kind of service,” Cecily mused. “How would you even advertise that?”

"...There are individuals who have a taste for dating monsters. The sentient sort, of course."

“I’d find it strange if not,” Cecily sweatdrops. “Anyways, If you think I’m ready, I should probably get going.”

Aldrid nods. "...Here-" He passes her an address. "If you need me, this is where I'm staying."

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Cecily takes the info. “Wish me luck.”

[[END OF JOURNAL SESSION...?]]