#but the TA was very sympathetic even before i told her anything | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ragingbookdragon · 3 years ago

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Tonight You're Gonna Go Down In Flames, Just Like Jesse James

A Jason Todd x Reader Story

Word Count: 7.9K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst, Mentions of Blood and Violence

Author's Note: This is the series I did a week or so ago. I figured I'd combine it into one big document so no one had to go searching for all the parts. Enjoy! -Thorne

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It was a horrible idea in the first place and yet, of all the bad decisions she’d made in her entire life, this one apparently was going to take first place. Of course, part of her told her to just chuck her feelings into the back of her mind and leave them there, but the longer she spent around him, the stronger they got. And regardless of how terrible her love life was—and to be completely honest, it was horrible—she was going to admit her feelings and accept whatever outcome came. What’s the worst he could say? No? No, she didn’t think he’d say that. He flirted with her all the time, called her doll, and complimented her on her reading habits—no one had ever done that.

***

She shifted the red roses into the crook of her elbow, free hand nervously smoothing down her pink sundress, discomfort running up and down her spine as she waited on the front porch of the imposing manor. She’d gone to his apartment earlier but after he hadn’t answered, she remembered that he’d once mentioned the manor as a secondary hangout, prompting her to go there after.

Inhaling sharply, she quickly took the flowers back into her hand when the door opened, and she smiled widely at the older man who stood before her. “Hello, you must be Mister Pennyworth.” she greeted warmly. “I’m (Y/N) (L/N), a friend of Jason’s. Is he here?” she raised the flowers and the gift box in her hand. “I’ve got something for him.”

The man smiled and stepped aside, letting her in. “Of course, Miss (Y/N), please allow me to fetch Master Jason.”

“Oh, you don’t have to call me—and he’s already gone,” she whispered. “Wow, he moves fast for an old man.” Her eyes drifted to the portrait above the hall table and she smiled at the faces of him and his brothers. They looked rather regal for the humorous stories he told her all the time. Footsteps drew her attention away and she turned, smiling at Jason as he walked towards her. He wore a surprised smile, but it was a smile, nonetheless.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing here?” he asked and when she opened her mouth all she managed was a dumb, ‘uh…’ then she shoved the flowers in his face.

“These are for you.” She replied, face heating up as his fingers brushed hers when he took them.

Jason brought the bouquet of roses to his nose and inhaled. “Wow, they’re beautiful, (Y/N).” He gave her that smile that had her stomach fluttering. “Thank you.”

She nodded and held the gift box up too, no longer than about nine inches and about eight wide. “This is for you too.”

“Thank you,” he said, tucking the flowers into his elbow while he unwound the twine rope and opened the box top. He shifted away the tissue paper and pulled out a small book, about the size of his hand and his eyes went wide. “Is this—”

(Y/N) nodded. “Yeah! You mentioned that you wanted a pocket booklet of Emily Dickinson’s poems…so I went scrounging some old bookstores and found one.” She smiled bashfully. “For you.”

He huffed a laugh of disbelief and pulled her in for a quick hug. She tried not to pass out in his arms as he breathed in her ear, “Thank you, (Y/N). Really, thank you, so much.”

“It was no big deal,” she brushed off, pulling away from him and he shook his head.

“Well, it is to me,” he retorted with a grin, then gestured to her. “But I don’t understand, what brought this on?” he nudged her in the side humorously quipping, “I didn’t forget a gift exchange, did I?”

(Y/N) laughed. “No, no you didn’t, it’s just…” she trailed off, falling quiet.

“It’s just…” he repeated, tone and eyes ever curious, and she swallowed thickly.

It’s now or never, (Y/N). Just tell him how you feel.

She motioned to the book. “Well…they say it’s easier to relay feelings when you give gifts.” Smiling, she confessed, “Jason, I…have feelings for you. Really, really strong feelings.” He went slack jawed, and though she felt a pang of embarrassment, she kept speaking. “And I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go out on a date with me tonight? There’s this really nice café uptown that has good soups…or maybe we could go to a bar and get a beer together?”

Clearing her throat, she added, with a flustered smile, “Whatever you wanna do of course. I’d be happy as long as you’re with me.”

He was silent. Jason was completely silent, and she wasn’t sure what was worse, his silence or the shock etched across his face, but she kept hoping for the best. That was until he said her name. And the tone he used…she knew instantly what was coming and all she wanted to do was shove her hand against his mouth and tell him to forget she ever said anything.

“(Y/N)…” he started sympathetically, recovering rather slowly. “I’m flattered,” he admitted, raising the flowers and book in his hands. “For the gifts, really I am…but…” Jason shook his head and gave her a pitied smile. “But I don’t feel the same way that you do…and I am sorry.”

For a moment she couldn’t remember how to breathe, simply gazing at the man she’d been friends with for the past seven months and trying to figure out how she interpreted every moment so horribly wrong. All the kind words and hugs. All the smiles and laughter. All of it.

“(Y/N)?” Jason worried. “Are you alright?”

She blinked, suddenly feeling a flush of coldness ebbing out through her stomach and down her limbs; she nodded, pursing her lips. “Yeah—I’m okay.” (Y/N) cleared her throat and pointed back towards the door. “I’m…I’m gonna go…”

She hadn’t even gotten a foot away when he caught the sleeve of her pink sweater and stopped her. “(Y/N), I’m really sorry. I don’t mean to hurt you like this.”

Sucking up all the embarrassment and heartbreak back in, she turned and let out a ‘pfft’, waving her hand as she lied, “What? No! I totally get it, Jason. Absolutely.”

He seemed unconvinced and she hated how he always knew something was off about her at every moment. “Are you sure?”

(Y/N) couldn’t fight the wobble in her lip as she nodded. “Mhm. Completely.” She tugged out of his grasp. “But I totally remembered that I have a thing to do. A very important thing not here.” She gestured to the door. “So I should go. Like now.”

This time, she didn’t wait when he called out to her and she yanked open the door and closed it behind her as fast as she could, hurrying down the steps to her car.

She climbed in, immediately gripped the steering wheel and pressed her forehead to the top of it, eyes starting to water as she tried to get her breathing under control. Her fingers fumbled with the keys and after the fourth missing of the ignition, she burst into tears and dropped her keys. Her lips wobbled and her sight was blinded as she reached for her keys in the floorboard and when she got them, she shoved them into the slot and twisted, barely hearing the engine roaring to life.

Wiping a hand across her face, she could’ve cared less about the makeup smearing across her skin and she put the car into drive, hoping that with every foot of distance she put between her car and the manor, she could leave a broken heart behind.

Because what was the worst thing he could’ve said?

No?

That was exactly it.

***Part Two***

Of all the bad decisions she’d ever made, this was probably the worst, and all she wanted to do was crawl into a hole and ride out every emotion that was coming onto her like a maelstrom. Every bad date, every failed notion of love just kept washing over her, but this one seemed like the nail in the coffin. She drove aimlessly for hours before she realized it was seven o’clock; a quick stop at her apartment and she fed her cat, also wiping the makeup and tear tracks off her skin before she wandered on foot with the direction of anywhere and nowhere.

***

Collapsing onto one of the benches that sat at the pier of Gotham Bay, she sighed heavily and gazed out at the water. It was calm compared to the storm inside and she propped her elbow on the railing, fist against her cheek, sighing again.

There was no way she could go to work and act like everything was okay. Kelly-Anne was going to drill her all about her “date” and she didn’t even go on one. She groaned. I never should’ve told her that I was going to ask Jason out. That’s going to be more embarrassing than being rejected by him. Another groan escaped her and she bent forward, burying her face in the floral dress pattern. I even wore a stupid dress and heels. Going slack, she let her feelings wash over her.

Something grabbed her shoulder. “Hey.”

“AHHHHH!” She yanked away, shooting up to see one of the masked vigilantes of Gotham city before her.

“Woah, woah!” they calmed, hands outstretched non-threateningly. “I’m not gonna hurt you!”

She pressed a hand to her chest and let out a sigh of relief, reclining on the bench as she heaved, “Oh my God, I thought—I don’t know what I thought you were.” A flighty laugh passed her lips. “You scared the hell out of me, Nightwing.”

He smiled and laughed. “Sorry. I saw you over here and thought I was going to find a new reason to call GCPD.”

“No, no,” she affirmed. “Just…dealing with things.”

Taking a seat beside her, he crossed his ankles and leaned back on the bench. “By groaning beside Gotham Bay at nine o’clock?”

She shot him a heat-less glare. “It was that or drown myself in cheap wine and Lewis Capaldi.”

He seemed to know what she was talking about, surmising, “Heartache?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” she muttered, lolling her head back on the bench, trying to ignore his steady gaze.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“(Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N).” She grinned. “What’s yours?”

Nightwing chuckled. “Afraid I can’t give that out or I’ll be in with the Big-Bat.” She giggled and he followed with, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

(Y/N) pursed her lips and shook her head. “Nah…you’ve got better things to do than help a girl nurse a broken heart.”

“Sometimes the better thing to do is talk with someone.” When she met his eyes, he smiled wholeheartedly. “Try me. I’m a good listener.”

Something ached in her chest and after a moment of staring at him, she swallowed thickly and sighed. “There’s this guy I’ve been friends with for a few months now. And he’s really kind and intelligent and super good looking and I—” she shrugged. “I fell in love with him. I mean, it was hard not too with how amazing of a man he is.”

Nightwing nodded. “What’s his name?”

“Jason Todd,” she said, and she couldn’t help the smile that came across her lips. “One of the first times we were hanging out, I told him that his first name meant healer in Greek…but he didn’t seem too keen on that definition.”

“How come?” he inquired, and she shrugged again.

“I don’t really know…Jason’s never been all that open about his past.” (Y/N) looked at him. “I think some bad things happened to him when he was younger and he just…doesn’t let people in easily.” She managed a smile. “I feel like all the times he did tell me about his life, it made me feel special, you know? Knowing he trusted me enough to tell me.”

“You really seem to love him,” Nightwing noted and she couldn’t help the tears that gathered in her eyes.

“I do…Jason’s the first guy that’s ever seen me for me.” (Y/N) pursed her lips. “I’m weird. I work in a library and books are my life and I can talk your ear off about how Raymond Carver single-handedly saved the short story genre.” she sighed. “And I’ve always been the nerdy girl in the friend groups who watched everyone else fall in love while she pined from a distance.” She huffed a pitiful laugh that made even his heart tighten. “I mean, I even went to prom alone.”

Her eyes found his. “But Jason made me feel special. He listened and didn’t get upset when I apologized for talking so much. He just smiled and asked me to keep going.” (Y/N) wiped at her eyes. “I thought that we were getting closer, but God I saw all the signs of him being a good friend as romantic.” She groaned and buried her face in her hands. “And it’s so embarrassing to admit that I’m so starved of love that I saw them as loving gestures.” Another groan escaped her. “And then I asked him out today and got rejected.”

He blinked in shock, wondering why his brother would let this girl go. Obviously, they were perfect for each other. He didn’t tell her that though, instead asking, “What happened?”

(Y/N) moaned. “I showed up at his house with flowers and a book he’d been talking about.” She smushed her cheeks and glared out at the water. “And he was really nice about letting me down easy and I wish I could be upset about that, but I can’t because he was respectful.”

She sat back up on the bench and they both gazed at the stars. “Please tell me that even cute superheroes like you have romantic problems.”

Nightwing chuckled and nodded. “Oh, you’d be totally surprised.”

“Yeah?” (Y/N) giggled and he hummed.

“Two of my exes are super-heroines and they’re really good friends.”

She blinked at him. “Okay, yeah, you win, Nightwing.”

He chuckled and turned his neck, falling silent a moment to gaze at her. “…It does get better, (Y/N).”

Her lips pursed. “I know…I just have to wait it out.” She stared into his eyes. “But I don’t think anyone will ever be as great as Jason is.” Her eyes fell to the water and she sighed, “Is it too much to ask though…that I find someone to hold my hand and love me?”

Nightwing took her hand and laced their fingers. “I can’t do the second thing, but I can do the first for a while…if you want?”

(Y/N)’s eyes watered, and she squeezed his hand. “Yeah…I’d like that.” She propped her head on his shoulder, feeling his cheek press against the top of her head.

“Tell me what your favorite poem is, (Y/N).”

“I’ll bore you to death, Nightwing. And I apologize…a lot.”

“Someone tell you that no one cares when you were younger?”

“More than I’m comfortable admitting,” she sniffed. “From a lot of people I respected too.”

Nightwing hummed. “Well…I’m not them. And I care about what your favorite poem is.” He thumbed the back of her hand. “Please tell me.”

She sighed heavily and murmured, “I will hold you with harbor arms. The lighthouse finding a ship against the lonely sea. A shelter as your legs give out under torrential rain. What I’m trying to tell you is, you are safe here.”

He was silent for a minute, then he whispered, “That’s beautiful, (Y/N).”

“I think about it a lot…about it and Jason,” she replied quietly. “I think he’s afraid of love—of loving someone. I’d give anything to let him know that I’m not afraid of whatever skeletons he’s got in his closet…that…that I’m not afraid of him or what he’s afraid he is.”

Tears gathered in her eyes and she turned her head, quietly sobbing into his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she cried. “I shouldn’t be—I shouldn’t—”

“Shhh,” he whispered, pulling his hand away from hers to curl around her shoulders, giving her a hug. “Let it out. I’m not here to judge you.” He wrapped his other arm around her, resting his chin on her head. “Let it all go, (Y/N).”

And she did. Every rejection throughout her life, from elementary school to high school to every college bar, she let out. Every “You’re not my type” and “I don’t date X girls” she let go of with every heart wrenching sob that tore her throat.

***

She didn’t know how long she cried, but when she was gone, Nightwing’s shoulder was completely soaked and (Y/N) had a raging headache to go with her heartache.

“Feel better?” he questioned when her sobs had subsided into sniffles every minute or two.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “A lot.”

Nightwing smiled. “Sometimes a good cry is all we need.”

“Mhm,” she agreed. “It’s cathartic.”

“Alright, Aristotle,” he chuckled and to her surprise, she found herself laughing. “And there’s the smile!” he cheered, letting her pull away to wipe her face.

“Sorry for boohooing on your shoulder,” (Y/N) apologized and he merely shook his head.

“Nah, don’t mention it.” He brushed off. “I hope someone like you would do the same for me if I needed it.”

She giggled. “Then we’ll meet here when we need good cries, huh, Nightwing?”

He held out his hand, watching her shake it. “Sounds like a good plan, (Y/N).” A siren went off in the distance and his face shifted instantaneously as he rose to his feet. “Rain check on the cry days.”

(Y/N) waved him off. “Don’t worry about it, go save the city.” As he started off, she called out, “Nightwing!”

He spun just for a moment. “Yeah?”

“Thank you,” she smiled.

“Anytime, (Y/N),” he winked and turned, sprinting off.

“Be careful!” she yelled and laughed when he waved a hand in the distance.

***Part Three***

She balanced the tin of cupcakes in one hand and opened the door with the other, already more than nervous as she stepped into GCPD. Some of the officers smiled and nodded at her while others merely watched as she walked up to the desk and cleared her throat.

“Excuse me,” she interrupted. “Is Commissioner Gordon here? I’d like to speak with him.”

The man’s eyes went from the cupcake tin to her face and he asked. “Can I ask what for?”

“Oh, yes, I just need to speak with him about something…involving Batman’s, uh…helpers?” she winced. “It’ll be quick, I promise.”

He cocked a brow, but shrugged and grabbed the phone, pushing a button. “Sir, you’ve got someone here to see you…no sir, she just said it dealt with Batman and the others…understood sir.” He hung the phone up. “He’ll over soon.”

“Thank you,” she smiled, and waited for the detective to arrive. When he did, she held her hand out, “Commissioner Gordon?”

He shook her hand. “Good evening, young lady. What can I do for you?”

“Well, I’m (Y/N) and um…it’s a bit complicated actually.”

“We live in a city with men and women who dress up in costumes and fight insane clowns.” He snorted. “We do complicated around here.”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh and nodded. “That’s fair, Commissioner Gordon.” She raised the tray of cupcakes in her hand. “This is going to be really weird, but I was wondering if I could use the spotlight to…call one of them.”

Gordon’s eyes drifted from the cupcakes to her, then back to the desserts. “You wanna use the Bat-Signal to get one of them…so you can give them cupcakes?”

Her mouth opened and closed, then she admitted, “Okay, that sounded a lot better in my head.” She sighed. “It’s not crazy, I swear but—”

“Why don’t you follow me to my office, and we can talk about this, hmm?” he asked, and she nodded.

“That sounds great, sir.” She followed close behind him to a closed-off room and took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk, waiting for him to sit in his chair.

“So,” he started when he sat down. “Start from the beginning of why you wanna give Batman cupcakes.”

(Y/N)’s cheeks warmed, and she murmured, “Nightwing. I want to give them to Nightwing, actually.” He cocked a brow but said nothing and she cleared her throat. “So, the other week, Nightwing helped me out with something and to repay the debt, I made these.”

“What’d he help you with?” Gordon questioned and she played with the hem of her sweater.

“Uh, he…he, um, helped me with a um…a really embarrassing rejection.” She waved her hand. “And I sobbed like a baby on his shoulder and I just wanna give him these in return and tell him sorry for taking up his valuable time.” (Y/N)’s cheeks felt like they were on fire and she begged, “Please let me use the signal to call and I’ll leave. Promise, sir.”

Gordon watched her for a moment then he chuckled and rose from his desk. “I’ve been doing this for about forty years, and nothing has ever been this funny in my entire life.” She sighed, thinking a ‘no’ was coming and he stood beside her. “Come with me to the elevator and we’ll go up.”

(Y/N) blinked in disbelief. “Wait, what? You’re going to let me?”

“Of all the things I’ve ever had someone come in and ask for? Delivering cupcakes is a new one. And I pride myself on getting the new ones.” He smiled. “Come on.”

Not wanting to blow her chance, she hurried after him with a big smile on her face and soon she was standing next to the giant spotlight, watching it silhouette against the night sky. She waited for a moment, then asked, “So how long does this usually take?”

He grunted. “Takes longer when you ask how long it takes.”

“That makes sense,” she laughed, and someone cleared their throat behind them. Both her and Gordon startled, though his reaction was less noticeable than hers, whereas she jumped a foot in the air.

“Red Hood,” Gordon greeted, holding out a hand to shake. “Good to see you, son.”

“Good to see you as well, Commissioner Gordon.” Red Hood replied. “Big-Bat in charge sent me here to see what was going on. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Gordon said, motioning to (Y/N). “You’ve got a visitor.”

The vigilante turned to her as if finally noticing her presence and he asked, “What’s wrong?”

(Y/N) held out the cupcake tin to him. “I was wondering if you could give these to Nightwing.”

Red Hood glanced down at the cupcakes. “Why’d you make cupcakes for that jerk-off?”

She was shocked to hear such an insult and she bit out, “Well maybe because I wanted to, jerk-off.” He was probably scowling at her from behind that mask, but she wasn’t going to back down. “Nightwing did me a favor last week and I always repay my debts.” (Y/N) held out the tin again. “Will you please give these to him and tell him thank you for his pep-talk?”

Red Hood took the tin from her, asking quietly, “What’d he help you with?”

“Oh my God, why does everyone wanna know?” she griped, then exhaled through her nose. “Fine, I got rejected by a guy I’m in love with, and I boohooed like a baby on a park bench with Nightwing holding my hand like a parent to a child and being super sympathetic.” (Y/N) glared, though she appeared flustered. “Are you happy now, Red Hood?”

“Be a lot happier if you weren’t giving my brother cupcakes,” he muttered under his breath and looked at her. “Do you want the Tupperware back?”

She nodded. “Just tell him that I’ll be back at the bench on Friday this week to pick it up. Same time as the other week.”

“I’ll tell him,” Red Hood said with a rather annoyed tone and started back towards the other side of the building.

“Red Hood!” she called out and he paused, glancing back at her. “Look…I know you’re busy with other things. So…thank you for doing this. Really, I appreciate it.”

He shook his head, murmuring softly, “Don’t worry about it, (Y/N).” And he was gone.

Gordon walked over to her and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Miss (Y/N)? Are you alright?”

She blinked and nodded, though she felt a great deal of confusion as she said, “He knew my name?”

***

Jason watched his brothers dig into the cupcakes, groaning about how good they were. He didn’t even need to eat the one he had in his hand because he knew. He knew she made the best baked goods he’d ever had, especially these ones which were her specialty. Double Dutch Chocolate Cupcakes with little pink, shimmering pearls. She put them on because she thought they were cute.

He glanced down at the cupcake in his hands, asking, “How do you know, (Y/N), Dick?”

The eldest brother paused mid-chew and stared at him with a dumbfounded expression. “Huh?”

“Cupcakes,” Jason said, gesturing to them. “She made them as a thanks to you. For last week.” He looked at his brother. “What for?”

Dick swallowed the bite he’d been chewing and nonchalantly replied, “Oh, nothing big. Just being friendly.” He shrugged. “How do you know her?”

Jason scowled. “Don’t do that shit. We both know how I know her.”

“Oh, right! The rejection after the flowers and book!” Dick exclaimed, taking another bite. “So, why’d you say no anyway? She seems like great girl.”

“She is,” he agreed. “The greatest.”

Tim elbowed Dick in the ribs, murmuring, “Is this Jason admitting he’s in love?”

“I don’t know,” Dick replied. “Jaybird, if you’re this pissed at me—”

“I’m not pissed,” he retorted, very much so pissed. “I just don’t want her getting involved with this.”

Dick’s mouth formed an ‘o’. “So that’s why you rejected her. You’re afraid of letting her know about everything.” He hummed knowingly. “See, she said that was probably it. That you’re scared.”

“What?” Jason’s eyes widened. “What’d she say to you?” He handed his younger brother a thumb drive. “What’s this?”

“Recording of the conversation I had with her last Friday,” he replied. “I was planning on giving it to you later tonight.” Dick laid a hand on Jason’s shoulder and murmured, “She’s not going to run away if you’re vulnerable with her Jason.” He nodded to the flash drive. “She’s stronger than you’re giving her credit for.” Dick patted his shoulder and took the cupcake from Jason’s other hand, biting into it. “Oh my God,” he groaned, walking off. “What does she put in these things? They’re addicting.”

***

I’m not afraid of him or what he’s afraid he is.

Jason put his forehead on the desk and stared at the floor, not really sure what was tightening worse, his chest or his throat, but something in the mix started hurting and he let out a shaky breath, vision blurring and he squeezed his eyes shut to keep the tears at bay. Rejecting her affections meant she forgot about him. She forgot that he existed, and she stayed safe. She stayed alive. Jason wanted that. He wanted (Y/N) to grow old with someone and have a family, not die an early death at the hands of some crazed villain or worse, a failure of his saving.

He let out a low groan and rubbed his forehead against the desk, wishing that it would solve all his problems. Mostly the ones in his broken heart. They had texted each other and video called constantly. Usually meeting up once a week to hang out somewhere or go get dinner. His entire life had changed in one conversation, and the only thing he regretted more than telling her he didn’t feel the same way and making her cry was watching her lie that she hadn’t been bothered when he knew deep down that her heart was shattered. He knew it because he watched her breakdown in her car through the manor window before she pulled out of the driveway.

Maybe Dick was right though…and that thought made him wanna vomit because younger-brother syndrome was a real thing and listening to your older brother wasn’t fun. But if she were that honest with Nightwing, that real with him, then maybe he could tell her the truth. All of it. About everything he was hiding from her. His past and most importantly his feelings for her. Maybe he could really keep her safe if he did.

Maybe Jason could be the one she grew old with. The one who held her hand and loved her.

***Part Four***

“I don’t wanna die,” she whimpered, grasping at his wrists that were digging into her side. “Please, I don’t wanna die now.” Tears slipped down her cheeks and she let out a sob. “I don’t wanna die.”

He cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb across her skin. “You’re not going to die.” He promised. “I’m not going to let you die here.”

Her eyes found his behind the domino mask and she whimpered again. “I’m scared, Red Hood.”

“I’m going to save you. I swear I will.” He ignored the blood that had smeared across her cheek and pressed his hand back to her bleeding abdomen, tears of his own gathering in his vision as he whispered, “I won’t lose you too.”

***

She couldn’t help but look to her wristwatch again, just to make sure she hadn’t been late. Of course, she’d gotten there fifteen minutes early, but still—time was a funny thing and sometimes she found herself late to things even if she’d arrived early. She should’ve just told Red Hood to let Nightwing keep the Tupperware, but that thing was like forty dollars and it was her favorite cupcake tin—she wasn’t letting that go.

Footsteps sounded through the traffic from her right and she looked up, smile faltering just slightly when she saw Red Hood coming her way instead of Nightwing. “Hey Red Hood!” she greeted with a tad of confusion and he waved.

“Hey (Y/N).” he raised the tin. “Sorry for being the one to drop this off but Nightwing was…busy.”

She snorted. “Don’t worry about it. Did he like—”

Red Hood dropped the tin, breaking into a sprint towards her. “(Y/N)! BEHIND YOU!”

“What?” (Y/N) spun and gasped when she came face to face with two masked men. “Oh fu—UHN!” one of them sunk their fist into her stomach and she bent over with a gag, knees going out below her as they grabbed her by her arms and yanked her forward.

She heard him screaming for her as they dragged her to the side of the road and shoved her into the back of a van. (Y/N) tried kicking at them but one of them picked something up and hit her across the head and the last thing she saw before everything went dark was Red Hood fading from view as the doors shut.

***

The tires screeched on the van as it hauled off and Jason had barely managed to grab the back handle as it did. He gripped the sides of his hood and cursed sharply, heart already beating wildly as he panted. “Fuck!” he screamed. “Motherfucker!”

He spun around, mind hopping from place to place as if he couldn’t figure out what to do first, and he punched a button on the side of his hood. “Nightwing, do you read me?” The line crackled a moment. “Nightwing! Come in!”

Jesus, I heard you the first time, Hood. What’s wrong? Break a nail?

“Dick,” he whispered. “It’s—it’s (Y/N).”

Something in Jason’s voice told him all he needed to know. What do you need me to do?

He turned in the direction that the van sped off in. “Two masked thugs grabbed her and took off with her in a van.”

License plate and van description?

“I31-FL4. White Chevy van, tinted windows.”

Alright, I’m away from a computer right now, but let me get Tim on the line. Another crackle. Hey Red, you busy?

At the moment. Why?

I need you to run a license plate for me on a white Chevy van.

Mmm, can it wait? I’m in the—oh shit—middle of something right now.

Tim, it’s urgent. (Y/N)’s been grabbed.

Number?

I31-FL4.

Your van just clocked four traffic cameras heading over the bridge past Chinatown into Founders and off to north of Port Adams. Scans are telling me that Cobblepot’s manor is that way.

“Cobblepot?” Jason repeated. “What the hell is he—” his sighed. “Shit, Dick, one of Penguin’s thugs probably saw you and (Y/N) the other night.”

And Penguin’s assumed that she knows who I am. Ugh, times like these I wish I hadn’t busted his gun running from Blüdhaven. Jason, I’m on my way.

Do you need backup, Hood? I’m about twenty out from your position.

“Don’t worry about it, Red.” He assured. “Nightwing and I got this.” Jason started towards the other side of the street, already pulling out his grapple. “You stay on whatever it is you’re doing.”

Aw man. But rescue missions are so fun.

“Tim. Fuck over the line and get off.”

***

Cold water splashed across her skin and she gasped, startling awake with violent shivers. Immediately she tried to get away but found herself bound to a chair; eyes searching wildly until they came to rest on the short and fat man walking towards her, wearing an eyeglass and smoking a cigar.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” He greeted. “Sleep well?”

Swallowing thickly, her eyes darted to the various armed thugs around her and she murmured, “What do you want with me, Mister Cobblepot?”

“Mister Cobblepot?” he cackled. “So polite.” He got in her face. “I want something you have.”

Her eyes found his. “I’m willing to part with whatever you need in return for my life.”

“I want Nightwing’s name,” Penguin said, and she blinked at him.

“Come again?”

His hand split across her face and she cried out in pain. “I don’t want to be drug around. His name. Now.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know Nightwing’s name.”

“Really?” he asked, then held out a hand and she watched someone put a phone in it and he shoved it in her face. “So that ain’t you sobbing on his shoulder like a whore with a heartache?”

Her eyes followed the picture and even from a distance, her and Nightwing’s faces could be seen, as well as their conjoined hands. “Okay,” she started. “I see what that looks like, but it’s not what it is. I swear.” Laughter echoed through the warehouse and she squirmed in her binds.

Penguin gazed at her for a moment, then he cracked his hand back across her face once more, and this time, he busted her lip. “I want his name.”

“I don’t know his name!” she spat the blood out of her mouth. “I was having a moment of weakness and he comforted me like a good person does. That’s it. He didn’t tell me his name.”

“I don’t believe you.” He hissed and she rolled her eyes.

“Look, it’s not my prerogative what you believe but that’s the truth. I don’t know who Nightwing is. Believe me, I asked, and he said he couldn’t tell me.” She leaned forward. “Hit me all you want but I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”

He shrugged. “Works for me.” And he punched her in the jaw, grinning proudly when her head lolled forward and she let out a low groan. “Who is he?”

“I. Don’t. Know.” She hissed through clenched teeth and he waved a hand.

“Someone bring me a knife. Maybe she’ll think better if she’s flowing.”

Her eyes widened and she started thrashing. “Okay! Wait! Let’s not be hasty!”

Penguin flicked open the knife and pointed it at her. “Name. Or I’m gonna slash you.”

“Mine? Mister Cobblepot, I’m disappointed that you don’t know the names of the women you kidnap.” She griped, voice turning into a shout of pain when he swiped the knife against her cheek. Blood flowed from the cut down her face, dripping onto her sweatshirt and she teared up, cheek stinging harshly.

“Want me to do the other side and make it match?” he asked, and she glared at him through her teary eyes.

“Go fuck yourself, oompa-loompa.” Glowering at the knife coming back down at her and she watched as something collided with it, causing sparks to jump as the knife practically jumped out of his hand.

Penguin cried out and spun in the direction of whatever had knocked the knife from him. “Red Hood!”

Someone dropped beside him and propped an elbow on the vigilante’s shoulder. “And Nightwing!” he glanced at her. “Sorry for getting you involved in this.”

She tried for a smile but still grimaced. “Say that after you get me out of this.”

He grinned and pulled out his escrima sticks, clicking the buttons. “That’s fair.”

“Well don’t just stand there!” Penguin yelled at the thugs. “Get them!”

It was a free for all. And even she was wincing with pity when a thug landed in front of her feet, blood streaming out of his nose as his eyes rolled back in his head. She figured since they were busy with fighting one another, she could use the time to get out of her binds—if at all possible.

She wriggled vigorously until there was slack in the ropes around her wrist and she started yanking her arms back, ignoring the way it broke her skin and rubbed it raw. Eventually she got one hand out and she let out a cheer, eyes scanning the ground for the knife.

It lay a few feet away and she grunted as she slouched in the chair, kicking her leg out as far as she could to toe it closer. Almost there! She strained against the bind and slammed her foot on the knife, dragging it to her. With a winning smile she picked it up and slashed the rest of the ropes on her wrist and stood up, immediately ducking as another thug flew over her head and she glared at Red Hood.

“Hey! Watch it!”

He stopped fighting, a gang-banger in a headlock. “How’d you get out of that?”

She put her hands on her hips. “I’m not some helpless damsel in distress, Hood.”

Chuckling, he slung the guy into the wall and pointed to the exit. “Get out and run as far as you can.”

“Right.” She spun and started towards the double doors when two thugs got in her way and she sighed. “Oh, fuck off.” Taking a step back, she turned on her heel when one grabbed her around the waist, and she yelped as he lifted her in the air. “Lemme go you big bastard!”

“(Y/N)!”

Someone shouted her name and she did the only thing she could do—she swung knife downwards, narrowly missing her own side as she stabbed the thug in the hip. He screamed, dropping her and she grunted when she hit the concrete. (Y/N) crawled along the ground when the same guy she stabbed, hauled her up by her belt.

“Oh, come on!” she yelled, and he threw her into the corner of the warehouse into some plywood boxes. They shattered under the force of the throw and her weight and she collapsed in a pile of hardboard, something in her side aching much more than anything else, like she’d been stabbed.

After a moment, the fighting seemed to die down and she managed to crawl to her knees, glancing down to find whatever kept poking her in skin and her eyes widened when she saw the jagged end of a piece of plywood sticking out of her stomach. And the second she saw it, the pain came, and she gasped sharply, holding it as she looked up them.

They were dealing with Penguin and she watched as Nightwing shoved the escrima stick to his neck and sent fifty-thousand volts into his body, watching as he jerked and passed out.

(Y/N) fell back on her knees and weakly called, “Guys?” they turned and gaped at her. “Help me.”

Red Hood was the first one to her and he dropped to his knees, pulling her against him. “(Y/N),” he breathed, one hand skimming over her face, the other pressing against the wound. She cried out and he said, “You’re going to be okay.” He looked at Nightwing. “Call a bus. Now.”

Nightwing knelt beside her and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, (Y/N). We’re going to take care of you.”

She nodded, though she wasn’t too sure of her belief in them. “It hurts,” she whimpered and Red Hood looked down at her side, raising his gauntlet to it.

“The wood punctured your liver.” He said and she sighed in shock.

“Am…am I gonna die?” she asked quietly, and Red Hood yanked off his hood, pressing down tightly onto her side.

“No. You’re not going to die, (Y/N).”

Suddenly, tears were gathering in her eyes and she whimpered, “I don’t wanna die.” (Y/N) grasped at the wrist that was digging into her abdomen. “Please, I don’t wanna die now.” Tears slipped down her cheeks and she let out a sob. “I don’t wanna die here.”

He cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb across her skin. “You’re not going to die.” He promised. “I’m not going to let you die here.”

Her eyes found his behind the domino mask and she whimpered again. “I’m scared, Red Hood.”

(Y/N) pressed her head to his shoulder. “I have a cat at my home. If I don’t make it will you get him for me? Find him a good home?”

“Don’t talk like this. You’re going to make it, (Y/N).” He looked at Nightwing. “Where’s the bus?”

“Ten out,” he replied. “I’ll go open the doors.” He hurried off and left the two.

“Red Hood, my cat—”

“You’re going to see Matlock again, I promise,” he interrupted sternly, and she gaped at him.

“How do you know my cat’s name? How do you even know my name?” He met her eyes and slowly reached up, peeling the mask from his face and her jaw went slack. “J—Jason?”

He gave her a weak smile. “Surprised?”

(Y/N) could barely find the words and she huffed, “I called you a jerk-off last weekend.”

“Yeah, I kinda deserved that.” Jason laughed, putting the mask back into place. “Couldn’t help it though. You made cupcakes for my brother.”

“Jealous?” she teased, voice dropping into a groan when she shifted.

Jason cupped her cheek. “Like you wouldn’t believe.” He thumbed her skin as the paramedics entered the warehouse and he smiled. “You’re going to be okay, (Y/N).”

She gripped his hand. “Don’t leave me. Please, Jason, don’t leave me.”

“I’ll come to see you after they get you into the hospital. Okay?”

“Promise?” (Y/N) whispered and he nodded.

“I promise, doll.” He nodded his head and stepped back, letting the medics do their job. And when they had her in the back of the ambulance, he sighed heavily and watched the siren wail as the red lights disappeared down the boulevard.

Dick rested a hand on his shoulder. “Go. I’ll call GCPD.”

Jason turned and pulled his brother into a strong hug, squeezing him tightly. “Thank you, Dick. God, thank you so much.”

“Oh my God, are you willingly hugging me!” Dick screeched, and when Jason tried to pull away, he held on and buried his face in Jason’s shoulder. “My Little-wing!”

“Okay, get the fuck off me. This is embarrassing.” He scowled.

***

Her head felt heavy and she barely had the strength to open her eyes. Brightness flooded her vision and she shut them again, waiting a moment before trying to open them once more. This time, it wasn’t as bright, and she blearily glanced around the room before catching sight of Jason curled up uncomfortably in the hospital chair beside her bed.

She didn’t wake him at first, simply gazing at him. He looked tired. Tired and worn out, like he hadn’t slept in years. Which might’ve been the case if the rumors of Red Hood being the second Robin were true—murdered then revived later. She doubt he slept much at all.

As if he knew she was watching him, his eyes opened and he met hers, blinking the sleep away and then he was leaning forward, gently murmuring, “Hey, (Y/N). How do you feel?”

She sighed, resting on the pillow, the thumb brushing her forehead almost lulling her back into sleep. “…Tired,” she mumbled. “And sore.”

Jason huffed a laugh. “Yeah, getting stabbed will do that to you.” He glanced towards the door. “Let me go get the doctor real—”

“Stay,” she said, grabbing his arm and he stilled. “Please stay. Just for a moment.”

“Alright,” he agreed, sitting back in the chair. “I’ll stay,” he said, but his eyes became firm. “but in five minutes, I’m going to get Doctor Brown.”

(Y/N) stuck her tongue out at him, and they collapsed into laughter, though at one point she groaned, “Oh God, don’t make me laugh.” She rested her hand on her abdomen. “Everything in this general area hurts.”

Jason took her hand. “It will—quit prodding it,” he griped. “You don’t wanna open up your stitches.” He ran his calloused thumb over the back of her hand and met her eyes. “I was so scared when I saw you get taken.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and he shook his head.

“It’s my fault. I should’ve seen it coming earlier. I should’ve told you earlier, but I was so scared of letting you know everything.” Tears gathered in his eyes. “But I almost wasn’t fast enough tonight, and you got hurt and—”

(Y/N) brushed her fingers over his lips, shushing him. “Jason, it wasn’t your fault.”

He frowned behind her fingers. “But you—”

“I’m here.” She affirmed. “And I’m okay.” (Y/N) grabbed his chin. “You saved me.”

“What happens if I’m too late next time?” he asked, eyes searching hers and she smiled.

“We’re not going to let that happen.”

“But it—”

“It’s not going to happen again.” She brushed her thumb over his lip and smiled at him.

He cupped her hand to his face and bent over, pressing his lips to hers; Jason stayed there for a moment, merely resting his forehead to hers and he lamented, “I’m sorry I turned you down. I never meant to hurt you…I was just—”

“Keeping me safe,” she surmised. “I know, baby.” Jason froze, eyes wide. “Too early?”

He chuckled and kissed her again. “Say it again.”

“Mmm, say please, and I’ll throw in a ‘I love you’.” (Y/N) countered.

“Pretty please?”

She grinned. “I love you, babe.”

“I love you, doll.”

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ramblesanddragons · 3 years ago

Text

Under The Moonlight

(For @lemonfodrizzleart based on her wonderful Mystery Farm AU mixed with Monster Falls. I really like Jackie as an OC and I hope I did her justice. A little treat for the spooky season. Normally I believe Gargrunk Stan can’t fly but maybe in this dimension he can!)

Words: 1967

Warnings: None! Just some fluff with a little bit of feels.

As the sun set low in the October sky Stan was trying his best to put on something nice. The wings were making it a little difficult. Maybe it would be easier to go shirtless than mess up a good flannel, but he wanted to look nice. Jackie was looking forward to this, he wasn’t going to let her down.

With a little fashion help from Kelvin, Stan was able to get his wings through some neatly cut holes. His tail wiggled into the hole in his jeans after a few tries. Shoes were a no go but at least his hat could rest in-between the horns on his head.

Getting ready for a date had never been so frustrating.

It was worth it though when he saw the smile on Jackie’s face. She was floating down the stairs, well more like fluttering. Even with all the draw backs of being a monster Jackie was enjoying being able to fly. The past few days she’d practically flown all over the farm.

Her dress was an off the shoulder affair in a deep black. A bit too fancy for a moonrise picnic but it was probably easier to deal with than anything else because of her own wings. He thin tail poked out of the bottom of the dress. Stan didn’t really care if it was too fancy. She looked incredible.

“Ready?” She asked.

Stan motioned to the blanket and basket in his hands and Jackie looped her arm around his stony one. Ford looked up from his notes. He was currently measuring the size of Kevin’s ears. It was only due to the golden fur covering his face that his twin wasn’t blushing up a storm being that close to his crush.

“You two be careful. I’m not sure how well any of the town folk would react to seeing you.”

“Look I’ve been planning this date for a week, Ford. No little monster curse is going ta stop us. You shouldn’t let it stop you either.”

Ford gave Stan a look that said, “Shut the hell up!” while Kelvin was distracted with the bone left over from his steak. Out of all of them he was rolling with this monster thing the best and seemed to embrace his wolfish side. Ford was indulging in riddles more but most of his focus was trying to find a cure. His twin needed to take a break before he burnt himself out. The occasional accidentally catnap wasn’t enough.

Stan could bother Ford to relax later. For now, he’d let him study Kelvin in peace. Maybe it would get him to finally ask him out. The official couple squeezed out the door with a wave and began to walk out into the orchard.

If this curse wasn’t lifted by next week, the fall apple festival they held each year would be turning into a costume festival as well. Sure, folks around town were used to the weird but even they had their limits. That was something for next week Stan to worry about. Right now Stan wanted to put all his attention on Jackie.

Jackie, who was also barefoot, would hop every few feet trying to catch a breeze. When she did, she’d flutter around the tops of the trees for a bit and return with a handful of apples.

“Honey, tonight’s ‘posed to be about relaxing.”

“Oh, I know. It’s just annoying to do it in the daytime. Sun hurts my eyes,” she explained. The picked apples were placed in bags and left by the trees. They could pick them up on the walk back.

“At least you can go out in the sun,” Stan grumbled.

Jackie gave him a sympathetic peck on the cheek and his grumbling morphed into a happy purring noise.

“It’s so cute when you do that.”

“Yeah, yeah just don’t tell Ford.”

She laughed and fluttered around the trees some more before they reached their picnic spot. The hill at the end of the orchard was silhouetted by the harvest moon. Maybe he needed to take Jackie on night dates more often. It was beautiful.

The two of them settled their blanket down and began to eat. Stan wasn’t as good of a cook as Jackie, but he had made the fanciest sandwiches he could with homemade sides. Every item had a somewhat ridiculous amount of meat in it to satisfy his new carnivore diet, but Jackie didn’t mind.

The two of them ate and talked and laughed. Stan offered her a blanket when the wind blew but Jackie declined.

“Apparently demons don’t get cold. It’s nice.”

“You know you might look like a demon, but I think of you as an angel baby.” Stan said with a smile. The smile faltered as Jackie laughed.

“How long have you been wanting to use that one? Very smooth lover boy,” she teased.

“Hey, I just wanted to let you know that I love you no matter what you look like! Yeesh. I try to be sweet.” He rolled his eyes playfully before remembering that no one could tell when he was rolling his eyes anymore. His eyes were currently glowing orange orbs.

Jackie’s eyes had a reddish cat in the dark like gleam to them. They were staring deeply at him. “I appreciate. At first, I was a bit weirded out by being turned into a succubus of all things, but you haven’t made me feel weird or different. I appreciate it.”

“Of course. You’re amazing no matter what you look like.” Stan wrapped a stony arm around Jackie, and they sat and watched the stars for a few minutes.

“Hey. I just got a great idea. We should take advantage of this who demon and gargoyle thing while we can,” Jackie said playfully.

Stan gulped. “Well, I haven’t really pushed any ideas since I didn’t want you thinking that you being a succubus would effect anything. I love you for more than that and-”

“Let’s go flying!”

“That...that is not what I thought you meant.”

“Oh, that can happen later. I know you’ve had a hard time keeping your hands off me.” Jackie winked and hopped-up leaving Stan slack jawed in the dirt. She laughed and stretched her wings wide.

“I think we could get some good air from here but maybe we should head up on the cliffs.”

“I don’t think I can fly. Too heavy,” Stan said.

“I bet you can. If your furball and feathers of a twin can, so can you. Although just in case we probably shouldn’t start with the cliffs. Let's try from here.

The hill wasn’t high enough to set off Stan’s heights fear, but it was one of the best places to sled on the farm. With the right wind it could be enough for a decent take off as Jackie was proving. She ran a few feet and stretched her wings, diving down to catch speed then turning up. She whooped happily as she climbed higher and higher. It almost looked like she could touch the large moon.

“Come on baby you can do it!” She shouted from the sky.

Stan gulped. He took a deep breath and went down the hill at a run. He jumped like he saw Jackie do but then tumbled head over tail down the rest of the hill. As he finally rolled to a stop Jackie landed beside him.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Hard head remember.” For emphasis Stan tapped his head and it made stony thumping noise.

“How about I do it with you? That might help.”

“Jackie I... there’s something I haven’t told you.” Stan frowned, he hated admitting it. “I’m afraid of heights.”

Jackie tilted her head in confusion and then something clicked. “That’s why you get Ford to do anything that involves a ladder! That’s why you like to use the apple picking tool instead of climbing!”

“Yeah. Pretty pathetic huh.”

“Of course not! Being afraid of heights makes sense! It’s not like humans can fly...normally that is. I just can’t believe we’ve been together this whole time and I didn’t realize it.”

“I did my best to try and hide it.”

Jackie petted his head causing him to purr again. Her claw like nails made a scratching noise against his stone skin. “Don’t be afraid to tell me you’re afraid Stan. I know you got it in your head you’re supposed to be this tough, sturdy guy-”

“What gave you that idea?” Stan asked in faux offense. Jackie shot him a look and gestured to his gargoyle body. He chuckled and let Jackie finish her thought.

“What I was trying to say is that it’s okay to be afraid and all those other human things. You don’t have to put on an act for me.”

Stan’s smile faltered and he took Jackie’s hand in his. “...I know.” Logically he knew that but there were times he could still hear his pa’s voice in his head telling him to be a man. Men weren’t afraid of things. Men didn’t have feelings. Men were tough as stone. That wasn’t the kind of man he was though, deep down, despite his current appearance. Sure, he was tough, but he felt all these other feelings too and he didn’t want to deny them. It was just hard sometimes. He was thankful to whatever above that Jackie was patient with him about it.

They sat at the bottom of the hill until Stan’s head finished spinning. Then he hauled himself up.

“Let’s try again.”

“Stan, you got nothing to prove.”

“I know that but when am I ever going to have a chance like this again. With luck these wings are gone within the week.”

He trudged back up the hill and watched how Jackie took off running and caught the fall breeze in her wings. She swooped up and flapped her wings hard to get higher and higher. Waiting until the wind picked up again Stan charged down the hill on all fours. As dumb as he felt it worked and he was able to feel a lift on his body. He beat his wings as hard as he could and the ground under him disappeared. The sudden disappearance of the ground spooked him, and he stopped flapping. His stone body went tumbling again.

“Stan!”

“I’m okay. I almost got this. Stay there!”

Determined he tried one more time. This time the wind was with him as a strong gust rolled across the orchard sending leaves and some apples flying. He flapped with all his might and didn’t panic this time when he took flight. His body was heavy. He could feel the strain in his back from the effort, but it was worth it to see Jackie’s delighted face.

“How are you doing?” She lowered herself down a few feet to meet him where he was steady.

“Alright if I don’t look down or think about being 20 feet in the air.”

“Come on! Just keep your eyes on me.” She took Stan’s hand and together they started to soar through the starlit sky around the farm. As terrifying as it was it was also beautiful. The two of them danced in the sky for as long as Stan’s wings could hold him.

Landing was tricky but when they made it back to their picnic spot Stan managed to stay on both feet despite tripping. He was even able to catch Jackie in his hands as she landed.

“That was amazing,” she said breathlessly.

“You’re amazing,” Stan responded.

“You might not agree with that after this. Tag you’re it!” She yelled pushing him slightly. She took off into the air again.

“Hey now hold on!” Stan laughed and shouted after her, taking off into the sky again.

#Gravity Falls #My writing #Monster Falls AU #Mystery Farm AU #Stan Pines X OC

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aineryeo · 3 years ago

Text

Prominence ௹ ATSUMU

The letters of the first few days when you parted ways 📨

Prominence: “Find someone great, but don’t find someone better.” You’d say to yourself, though it was directed to your ex-boyfriend, writing in a number of papers, serving as letters. Awaiting your impending doom.

Timeskip! Atsumu x Reader

Synopsis: You break up with Atsumu Miya in hopes to alleviate his pain. And for what he'd have to deal with. » 6.2k Words

Warnings: Depictions of Mental Illnesses & actual disease, Angst, Suicidal tendencies, Cursing, Atsumu is an impulsive bitch, so is reader. Read at your own discretion. Do not read if this has any sort of possibility to trigger you, more if you feel encouraged to do something you shouldn’t. This isn’t what the fic is about.

It was a rainy day, droplets of water knocking on the window of what was your empty room. It wasn’t a space you were supposed to be getting used to at this point in your long life. A faint tune of a piano was penetrating through your thin walls as you stared into nothing in particular, maybe the particles that become visible with the peek of sunlight through the gray clouds piercing through your window pane.

Your body got up, but you had a stinging migraine, your limbs were weak, and today was an off-day from your work as a bustling city journalist. No phone calls for a sudden need for your presence in your job. Your blanket was wrapped around you loosely, your feet navigating through your creaking floors. How depressing.

Empty fridge.

Messy bed.

Disorganized papers.

And clothes in unsuspecting places.

Your clothes. None of his. You can’t even reminisce about him anymore. Your migraine seems to have gotten worse. You spot one of the few things that were left organized. Your letters. You grimaced, the pain suddenly pushed to the back of your head as you were reminded of the contents.

“It won’t be bad to see him, at least once.” You reason to yourself with a small smile, it wasn’t a happy one. Nonetheless it was one. One reason out of many when you were always reminded that he was already happy, that Atsumu no longer needed you, and your relationship was a ghost of the past.

It has been for a month now, how else would it go, when you were the one who ended it?

Yeah, it was a bad idea to see him. You scold yourself for coming here, furthering your torture. You see him with a huge smile, bigger than when he was with you. Brighter than when you last picked a joke, at least that was what you thought. You dated him since you were sixteen, young, and fresh in-love.

“Tsum, baby, not here.” You vaguely make out, from hiding behind one of the tall bleachers near the exit from where their practice usually resided in. She was very pretty, her voice silky. You hear a rumbling chuckle in return, you feel your spine shudder at the familiarity. “Hm, honey where do ya want me ta do it then? I jus’ can’t resist ya.” You took your small window to catch a glimpse of them. The perfect lovers.

This was selfish, you knew it. But you inwardly cheered for him, happy to know that he found someone great. That he was happy, even if it was at your expense. Your eyes were glossy, dams about to break, so you walk away; like you always do, like you always did. Your mouth formed into a shaky frown, your fists clenching ‘till you were white-knuckling nothing in particular. White-knuckling all your pain, perhaps.

It was when you exited the establishment, into the car park, into your cheap second-hand car, did your tears fall; until everything kept breaking, your multi-functional tape to bar all your emotions inside, failing you for the umpteenth time for the past month. You were all alone, still clutching your keys to open the door to the driver’s seat. When you felt a hand on your shoulder, which made you jolt, you were too surprised that you didn’t get to wipe your residual breakdown off your face.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Your blurry eyes adjusted, and your heart almost jumped at the familiar face. You turned your face away from him, you were too ashamed to show your face to him. To the brother of the man you were still in love with. You changed your voice a few octaves higher, “Yeah! Thanks, sorry you had to see that.” Mishandling your keys before being able to open it quickly, though Osamu stopped you just as fast.

“I know it’s you, Y/N.”

You froze. “I’m not—”

Hearing a small laugh from him made you stop. “I think I’ve seen your car enough times before, with the same plate to know that it’s you when I parked right next to it.” Turning back, he already had his hand out holding a handkerchief.

“Sorry.”

He smiled sympathetically at your small figure, noticing that you’ve gotten smaller than you already were. More fragile. So he placed his hand that was roughly the size of your face, gently on top of your head to stroke it, hoping to bring you some comfort; roughly knowing the situation about you and his brother. How couldn’t he?

“It’ll be okay.”

It’s not. You recall, already sitting in your bathtub, not really crying, not really feeling anything of the sort. You exhaled as if it lightened your burdens. It won’t be.

You hum. Knees to your chest, “Not when...” You sigh, not now.

It was time for work, tedious work that requires you to write articles and camp out places at 2am in the morning, only to turn up and camp out at a different place again, just hoping for an interview for your channel. You didn’t feel like breaking down at all, but it felt like everything is typically more down. You refused to eat when your co-workers asked you to join them, you had no appetite.

You hadn’t for weeks.

A heavy feeling is always stuck inside you. Like everything is screaming at you, but you can’t scream back. You just can’t. Always heaving sighs, always staring into what once was blue skies, turned dull grey. Was it because you regretted having to let go of him? Or was it because of the news you had received prior to when you left him? Was it because the one time you felt like you couldn’t walk, the doctor told you that you had a few left; extend your life with a surgery that was high-risk.

Your hand ran through your hair for the umpteenth time, thoughts drifting to whether you should just end it quicker than what you had. What was the point? You failed to notice that your hand was writing on another piece of paper, as if documenting everything that ran through your mind. And maybe you wanted them to find out, when you’re gone. So you don’t have to face the burden of facing them afterwards and giving them any answers.

But you don’t want to ruin the happiness Atsumu had right now. He’ll blame himself, but this was all your fault. You ended it with a bad note so he’d forget you easily, you yelled at him, told him that he was useless, you didn’t love him anymore. You open your eyes, seeing yourself back at the situation where it all began, and where it all ended.

“Atsumu, I hate you.”

“Angel, what are ya saying? I said I was sorry! I’m tired from practice.” He replied, he was tired. He was stressed. You were stressing him. And he was getting rightfully agitated, it was working.

Your thoughts briefly flash to the days before, same old. You chose to do it days slowly, so it wouldn’t be too sudden; so he’d lose all love for you once you leave him. So you nitpick him again, even though it never really bothered you, “You always do this. Maybe we should just...” You swallow, it was like eating hard, bitter candy at once.

“What? Break up? Yeah, with your incessant yappin’ these days, Y/N, I wouldn’t mind one bit.” He said, looking at you with a harsh gaze. Similar to when some random fan begins screaming during his serving routine. You were nothing now. You nodded, if he had the right mind that time, he would’ve noticed that you were eerily calm; you were expecting this, why wouldn’t you?

“Yeah, break up.” You confirmed, with a somber smile. He hadn’t even noticed that more than half of your things were already gone from your shared apartment. You had one last suitcase, it was right beside the door. Atsumu failed to notice all the little things disappearing, so it wouldn’t be a surprise if he failed to also stop you before you hung your apron on the rack, turning the stove off, he was already gone. Into his bedroom, where he slept, too tired for anything his aching muscles couldn’t take right now. Your keys left untouched on the table before you left him altogether. Always, just always looking back with a heavy grimace.

The skies were the same color from that day, to everyday, same grey.

It wasn’t long before you found out he had a new love. Apparently an avid, and innocent fan of his whom he met during one of his morning runs in the park.

“What’re you writing there, Y/N?” One of your co-workers as of now, Akaashi Keiji, brought your head back up in the present. You hummed, folding the paper your hand subconsciously wrote in, and placing it in your pocket. “Nothing, really. My hand just kind of moves on its own when I think of anything in general.”

He smiles, sweet. “That’s endearing. Must be why you’re quite famous in the department.”

You chuckle, “I’m not famous, Keiji. If anything, this job just keeps giving me migraines. You’re the real MVP as a great editor in your dept.”

His hand was rubbing his nape, laughing softly with you. You stood up, supposed to get some water only to fall back down again. Your co-worker quickly catches you with worry etched in his delicate features.

“Y/N, have you been eating?” No, but..

“Keiji, I can’t feel my legs.”

It was showing.

You asked Keiji not to tell anyone, he in turn, asked if any of your family members knew this. It made you chortle, you said, “No. My grandmother died years ago, I’m an only child, and my parents didn’t last.” It wasn’t a funny thing, you knew that but it made you laugh anyway. Laugh at how pathetic you were.

He looked at you, on your bed at your home that he had kindly helped you in after calling your doctor from before. Saying it was that the disease was starting to become severe, causing your limbs, your legs, your arms, to lose its sensation. Slowly, you’ll become more agitated, and it’ll be harder for you to talk, or even move. Only your co-worker, and your boss knew for the time-being.

“You don’t have to help me. I know you’re busy.” You said, though weak, “I’ll only weigh you down.”

Keiji sighed, he knew that you worry too much about other people, he knew that you got lost enough to stop thinking about yourself. And it was sad, he empathized with you in the way that you were both overthinkers, though he’d understood for a while that you were more hasty with decision-making.

“No.” He said, simple.

You looked down at the blanket that covered your bottom half, your top half facing the big, musty, old window next to your bed. Facing away from Akaashi.

“Why?”

He was quiet for a few seconds, save for the usual noise from the surrounding roads. He looked up, before he looked back at your weak figure. “It’s just you—you’re all alone.” Walking around to the other side so he can face you. About to utter a tad more to his sentence, he stopped when he saw your eyes blown wide, a bit red at the bottom, a hard attempt to stop tears from falling. He didn’t miss a beat after, quickly crouching, and allowing your head to rest on his chest.

“So I thought you could use some company.”

You appreciated your co-worker, now close friend’s generous help. It’s been a few weeks, and you’ve been spending it cooped up in the hospital. He had also forced you to finally admit yourself so you can get immediate assistance in the case that something similar were to happen again. A similar event where he was forced to carry you to your car, and drive you home.

The cords stuck to your skin to hydrate you was a bother, but it was manageable. Here were your last few months alive. You still had no idea why you couldn’t just leave. You had no specific goal, you were bound to hit rock-bottom, and the least you can get is a few more months, maybe years of living if you get the surgery. There was no point, nothing to live for. You could work on your career, but what can you really do with legs that can barely stand, and… hands that can’t even pick up a pen.

The latter was the one that you cried to every night if you had tears to spare. The latter was the one where you try to continuously hit your head in hopes it can keep writing. It was such a simple task, why couldn’t it do its job? When Akaashi came to visit one afternoon, he had to rush and grab the sharp pen you had in your barely moving left hand, attempting to dig it in the skin of the right. Just to feel if it was still alive.

Then it was requested to have no pens, or sharp objects left near you without supervision. You’d call your friends, if by friends, you mean other than occasional visits from your co-workers that didn’t know much about your personal life; but still had the courtesy of visiting you nonetheless after hearing news from the boss, you’d consent to it since you were leaving the field. But he hasn’t fired you yet, apparently.

Sometimes it shifts, when your arms refuse to work, your legs will move for a bit, vice versa. A frown forms on your face when it happens to be both. Why couldn’t this just be quicker? You ponder, and hear the door open. Expecting the only person who visits you so frequently.

“Keij—” You stopped. He stopped. “What are you doing here?”

“Hm? So I can’t visit ya now?” Oh, his familiar tone.

“How did you even know I was here?” You said, a bit agitated.

“Asked one of yer co-workers.” He shrugged.

“...You visited my workplace? And they told you immediately?” You raised your brow, bringing your body up to sit on the bed instead. It was a feat on its own, but he’d seen your struggle, he was about to reach and help actually.

“Yeah, I had deliveries to make.” He said, leaning back. “And I may have made them slip it after overhearin’ yer name. Couldn’t resist my charm.”

“You’re ridiculous, ‘Samu.” You smiled, for the first time in a while. He could tell that it wasn’t a normal occurrence in a while, the thought of at least alleviating your stress for a bit eased a tide inside Osamu.

Osamu took his hat off, putting it on the table next to your bed. He was humoring you, because he didn’t want you to see the first look on his face when he confirmed that it really was you who's been confined here. Not any other person with the same name. He sat on the sofa beside you, next to the window. You’d lie if your heart didn’t clench at the sight of him, If you’d look inside, you’ll spot the tinge of pain; but outside, all Osamu could see was that you still adored him. By that, he meant his brother. He knew he might trigger you due to him being the twin of what was your love. Still is, he was sure.

Clearing his throat, your trance broke. “Y/N.”

“Hm.” You lay your back flat on the metal headboard covered in the white pillows of your white bed, in your white room.

“Why are you here?” It was true that Osamu had heard you were confined in the hospital while he was making deliveries to your place coincidentally, so he couldn’t help but perk his ears. Despite your break-up, he was still your childhood friend, and although he heard of the story of how it ended from none other than his brother’s dull voice on the phone that night he was closing up Onigiri Miya; he knew there must’ve been something that caused you to do that other than Atsumu himself. He’d investigate, and help rekindle the lifelong relationship you both shared if he wasn’t so busy himself. And if his brother hadn’t immediately used a rebound to inflict immediate pain upon you, maybe he’d have considered it.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged.

Osamu sighs, “You do. Tell me,” he looks at you with sincerity, placing his coarse palm from the work he’s been juggling in, on top of your pale, lifeless hands. Almost wincing at the cold temperature they held, “Please.”

You sucked in a breath, he placed his, what you assume to be, warm hand on top of yours. But you felt nothing. So you let it out, “I have Friedreich’s Ataxia. Apparently it’s genetic, uh, doesn’t allow me to use these flimsy things.” You glanced at your legs, slightly waving them along with your hands, “I can’t even feel the warmth of your hand right now. I mean, that is, if you’re warm. It’s always cold here. The doctors said they’d try to give me therapy and train me to walk again, or actually use my hands.” You chuckle.

“And something about heart surgery, though that won’t really extend my life for long.” You finish, opting to insert a joke that you thought was bright until you let it out, “Better than turning out blind though! Haha… Kidding, it may happen to me too, which sucks, by the way.”

Your rambling was cut off when you were met with an intense stare from Osamu. “And you’ve found out of this, when?”

“...Nearly 2 months.. Ago?” You gulped the lump that was stuck in your throat.

Osamu rested his elbows on his knees, thinking. “So that was the reason?”

You retained silence.

He sighs. “I knew it would be a valid reason, but I really wasn’t hoping it would be this.” His face hidden in his big hands, frustration was visible. But it was the breathy question of, “Why are the gods this cruel?” To which your eyes soften, albeit a little bit.

“Samu, can I ask a favor?”

He looks at you, face out of his palms. “Sure.”

“Can you… Turn the TV on?” He raised a brow at first before standing up and getting the remote by the stand, switching it on, immediately being greeted by the sports channel on Volleyball. Oh, they had a game today. He had nearly forgotten due to this new revelation from you. He looked at your face that was staring directly at the screen, then he saw the number thirteen, and his heart clenched tighter.

He placed the remote on the table beside your bed, and he took his black cap. He spun it on his finger for a bit, “I won’t tell ‘Sumu.”

You hummed again, before looking at him. “Thank you.” Then he smiles sweetly at you before turning around, his face immediately turning into a painful grimace. Because even he could feel the tragedy of this love.

Each day you were gone was a punch in the gut for Atsumu. His initial lack of reaction to his overreaction, trying to get back at you for leaving him. It was wrong. All he ever wanted was to call you, tell you to come back, have you in his arms, the lot. He’d miss the smell of your hair when he hugs you tight, or the clean apartment whenever he comes home to you beaming, cooking dinner; like his precious wife-to-be. Though he hadn’t proposed, the ring he bought for you started collecting dust in his drawer.

The girl he was with didn’t really last long, she broke it off after getting annoyed by him calling your name instead of hers on any normal occasion on impulse. His head in his hands, bed half-empty. His games gave him a little bit of adrenaline, but every time he sees the empty spot saved for you in his jersey, the adrenaline will scafe off, bit by bit. It’d be a lie if he said that he didn’t at least try to call your number in the past two months, he had actually, for a couple of times. But your number was unreachable, and your social media was non-existent.

It was like you weren’t real. Like a ghost. Sand that was slipping far from his fingers, his hold. His hold loosened in a moment of weakness.

To say his biggest regret was the night you left was a lie, because the biggest regret he ever made was never immediately trying to get you back. He was dazed off in the locker rooms after one of their games, his water bottle in hand. Hinata waved in front of him, Bokuto right next; to which his daze cut off.

“You okay, Tsum?”

He smiled, nodding. But his teammates knew it wasn’t the same for a while now. He was more rigid and tired in his movements. Probably not the kind of exhaustion that could be solved by sleep.

“Yeah, no worries.” Even Sakusa worriedly glances once in a while, he still cares, though not openly shown. Atsumu slung his gym bag over his shoulders after changing, he decided to visit his brother in his shop for now. He was walking out to drive when he accidentally bumped into someone, trapped in his little thoughts about you again.

“Oh—Sorry, didn’t see ya there.” Atsumu apologized, knowing it was his fault.

“It’s okay, Miya-san.” It took a few moments before Atsumu registered who this was.

“Akaashi? Keiji? Bokuto talks about ya all the time! Nice to meet ya.” He smiled, putting his hand out for him to shake. To which the latter man does. Oh, Akaashi recognizes him, not just from being his friend’s teammate; but from being your ex. He concluded in his thoughts by the few seconds they shook hands that he wished for him to not find out about you any longer. Thinking about the pain it would cause for both of you, especially him. They nodded at each other before bidding goodbyes and heading off to their own destinations.

Atsumu drove past the busy streets of the city, traffic holding him back a little bit. He was stopped a little bit in front of the city hospital. He didn’t know why, but his gaze lingered on the building a little longer than he’d like to admit. His left hand clutching the wheel, the other on the stick; Why does it feel like… He shakes his head to rid himself of ridiculous thoughts, seeing as the cars were finally moving, he did too.

Just as his foot pressed on the accelerator, his eyes landed on you. His eyes were the widest it had been, and this was the day he felt the most emotions since the day you left him.

“Y/N?” He asks, though his window was turned up and he was inside his car. He must be going crazy. Were you on a wheelchair? Was it really you? Or were his eyes playing tricks on him again, just like it had been every time he visited places he used to go with you. Or when he needed anything in particular, his first call in the apartment would be your name, expecting an answer back like you always had been.

He rolls his window down, and at that moment he swears your eyes met before you quickly changed vision. He’d run out of his car to chase you right now, if it weren’t for the honking behind him. Fuck.

He drives forward, and goes around to park for the hospital real quickly. Just to see if he wasn’t going insane by the amount of times he’d imagined seeing you again. He looks around the area, arriving at the greener part of the hospital, probably one of the places where they take some patients out for walks. Atsumu’s heart beats faster when he sees the same beautifully familiar hair, and angelic face he’s fallen in love with. He misses a beat, he stops, just plainly admiring; he notices your weaker stature, and your crest-fallen face. Paler skin, and limp limbs. And for that mistake, he fails to notice you were being guided in already.

He panics. About to bolt when he suddenly trips over his feet, and gets a bloody knee as the door closes. That doesn’t stop Atsumu, no, he’s dealt with much worse; one of which was the pain of not having you in his life. So he runs, and he sees the wheelchair you resided in enter the elevator; and once again, he swears, he swears, that his breath catches in his throat as he sees your eyes, and you see his.

And maybe he didn’t know, and maybe you didn’t know, but for the first time in months, you both saw colors.

“She was there, ‘Samu, I was sure of it!” Atsumu yells even in the midday of the bustling Onigiri Miya.

“Yer delusional as always, ‘Sumu. Ya should get yer head checked.” Osamu says from the kitchen in the back, there was faint squealing from the men and women alike in the restaurant. Feeling blessed for being able to witness the Miya twins in one sitting. And bantering, no less; even if it was over a girl.

“I can’t have mistaken it. I know when I see ma’ girl, Samu. Ya know it.” Atsumu groans, burying his head in his arms on the counter. “But when I asked the nurses, none of ‘em are giving me details. They say there ain’t Y/N L/N on their recent list of confined patients.”

Osamu was lucky he was working the kitchen right now, because he was low-key nervous of what to say, to not compromise you. How was his brother so close to it anyway? He wants to drive him away. He thinks he can agree with your rationale, but when he thinks of his brother’s side, wouldn’t it be more painful to just find out that you were just… Gone? His mind was splitting in half because of this dreaded situation, until Atsumu called him out again.

“Hey, ya scrub! Are ya even listening to me?” Atsumu lightheartedly yelled as Osamu’s heart softened. If anything, he didn’t want to see his brother bear the pain of losing you, permanently.

“Yeah, yeah. Shut yer trap. I have a business running here. Yer scaring off the customers.” Osamu says, getting out of the kitchen, arms crossed with a scowl.

“Help me, Samu. I just… Can’t bear to lose her.” Atsumu finally says, with a lace of evident longing. Osamu’s face contorts into a myriad of reactions that he couldn’t pick from. Before he settled with a sigh, and a lean on his forearms to poke his brother roughly on the forehead. A grunt of pain from the blonde.

“The only one who can help ya is yerself. If ya want to go find her, go ahead. Whatever your choice will be, don’t let it end with regret.” Was all he said before he went away to tend to the girls who were about to order, red-faced, and all.

Atsumu didn’t understand it a bit. How was that supposed to help him? He thinks. His fist digging into his cheek, face contorted into heavy thinking. It went on like that. He had no other clue, but he kept visiting the hospital, kept driving through, hoping he could catch a glimpse of you; to prove to himself that you were real. But for the first few days, he had no sign of you whatsoever. He kept bugging the nurses, or at least asking them everyday and ended up getting rejected again, and again, and again.

He sat in his car parked in the hospital on his free-day. As if a lightbulb turned on, he felt stupid for not visiting your workplace. They should at least know something about you, right? You were pretty well-known, and idolized in the industry. So he drove there, he may or may not have sped up a little more than he should but all in good purpose. He arrived there, and immediately knew where to park, the signature spot for everytime he comes to drive you home. Recently hearing that you bought a car when you broke up with him, made him sink a little bit. But he saw the spot was taken, eyebrows furrowing for a little before parking to the spot next to it.

When he got out, he noticed that the car that took your spot had dusting on it. As if it hadn’t been let out in a while. Or used. Quickly putting two-and-two together, maybe this was your car? The one you had bought? And if it hadn’t been used in a while… Then that supports his thoughts about you being in the hospital. His face shifted into worry. That must mean.. Whatever you had been sick of, was serious if you haven’t been using your car as often, considering your job was hectic.

He shook the thoughts off for a while, determined to find more clues about you instead. But he thinks the search suddenly became too easy when he suddenly heard a few gossiping women.

“Oh, poor Ms. L/N… She’s been hospitalized for a month now.”

“Really? Have you heard of any reason why?”

“I’m still unsure but I heard it’s chronic, and she doesn’t really have long.”

He sucks in a harsh breath. What? His ears perk up more to their conversation. He hides behind a wall, he assumes that they’re probably heading for their lunch break as a group right now.

Then a snicker, “I know this is kind of mean, but who’ll be replacing her now? Surely her position is up for debate.”

Atsumu’s face darkens at this. Stepping out of the wall as his big frame became all the more intimidating, “I mean, she’ll be biting the dust sooner or—”

“Shut your damn mouth, filthy whore.” Atsumu says with a sneer. Chin up, looking down. “Continue that sentence and I’ll see who bites the fuckin’ dust first.” A whimper, “It’s him again!” Shuffled feet, then they’re gone and out of his sights.

It takes a sigh, and a slump in his posture before everything sinks in. What does this mean? Is it.. True?

He shook his head, sure, you weren’t looking so good when he last saw you. You looked especially sick. But it was like nobody, not even the universe, had wanted him to see you. He thought back to the gossiping workers earlier. It’s him again? Atsumu hasn’t visited in a while, and he doesn’t think that he’s seen them… Oh.

Fuck, Osamu.

He could pass off as a professional racer with the speed he was driving at, only lucky enough to not have any cops tailing him. He was breathing heavily, his brother knew about you and didn’t tell him anything apart from that vague statement a few days ago? He couldn’t help the light betrayal he felt but in all honesty, he’d much rather force his brother to take him to you now. So when he arrived in Onigiri Miya, he didn’t waste a second dragging his brother out who was grumbling incessantly.

“The fuck ‘Sumu, I have a business to run!”

“No you, The fuck ‘Samu. You knew where Y/N was? Take me to her, now.” Atsumu said, foot on the ground, he won’t let anything come between his decisions now. Taking the bag of Onigiri from Osamu’s hand, “I’ll take this too. I’ll pay for it, I need to give a treat at least but we’re kind of in a hurry.” Osamu sighed, finally getting the gist of the situation. Deciding to spare his brother, he’d have to apologize to you later for spilling the beans. But he thinks he needs to let his brother let his feelings out as well.

“Okay.”

“No, you don’t have any other cho—Okay. Okay, get in the car.”

Osamu briefly yells at the part-timer he recently hired, telling them to take over for a while. To which they nodded eagerly, and so, the brothers left. Save for the quiet ride for the first few minutes. “...How—” Atsumu clears his throat, “How is she?”

A quiet beat, Osamu thinks of his answer. He settles for a passive one, “Okay.”

“Hn.” Atsumu grunts.

Osamu leans back on the passenger seat, “Just… Just make sure you don’t regret any of this.”

Atsumu raises a thick brow at this, “Why would I?”

“I think you already know why.”

He sucks in a harsh breath at this, and the silence remains. Atsumu reaches the hospital, parks the car, and Osamu leads the way to your room. Every step Atsumu took felt like the ground was shaking and trying to eat him whole. He wanted to see your pretty face again, your smile that could make his day whole and puff his chest out, or your hands that would comb through his hair and ask how it’s so soft when he bleaches it regularly.

So why was he seeing your writhing body under nurses yelling your name this time. Osamu breathes in, slowly understanding the situation as he quickly glances at his brother who was frozen. Both of them kept walking, until they were in front of what was supposed to be your room. Door open, and multiple people, trying to keep you alive. He hears that the doctor is coming, that you should wait, that you’ll get better in no time, at this point Atsumu didn’t know if the reassurances were for him instead.

When he sees your weak hand gripping the railing of your bed, he breaks. The bag of Onigiri long forgotten on the floor as he runs towards your bed.

“Darling, hey, hey, Angel, you—Yer okay, yeah? You’ll be fine, please be okay.” Atsumu says with shaky hands gripping yours, it was intensely cold, as if you weren’t even alive in the first place. He wishes so much that he was the one to give you warmth. “Look at me, you’ll be okay.”

And for the second time in a while, your eyes meet his, your weak, fragile, pretty little eyes; finally meeting him. The nurses noticed you calming down more, but your state wasn’t getting any better. They were initially going to let Atsumu out, but noticing the intimate relationship you two seemed to have displayed, they decided against it. More focused on bringing you back to life.

You had the heart surgery. You took the leap to extend your life, ever since you caught a glimpse of him a few days back; you just knew that the biggest regret you’d ever have is to never try. You told Akaashi when he visited that you were deciding on it, and he was supportive. He was really supportive. But you weren’t blind that it was a risk that may also shorten your life instead. Though wasn’t that what you were asking for, this whole time?

So maybe the time you got out of the surgery unscathed was the calm before the storm, it was the calm before this. But you were glad that even through your hazy vision, it was him that showed. It was Atsumu that kept telling you to look into his pretty eyes, and tell you that you’ll be okay.

Atsumu thinks that even in this situation, you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid his eyes on. So when the most beautiful thing slipped from his grasp, with no chance of clutching it back; his heart is torn, and burnt into crisps, non-existent flakes as his mind replays every memory he’s ever had with you, and how he was standing and watching warm, sunny spring turn into the ruthless, cold winter.

Osamu watched his brother break down in front of your bed, his own tears mixing in the lot, his cap covering most of his face. Another familiar figure that frequented visits with you, a solemn expression on his usual calm face. Heavy feeling on his chest, Akaashi approached the man who lay on his knees in front of your bed while the nurses that were scrambling to keep your life had promptly announced the date and time of your death.

Akaashi handed the box in his hand towards Atsumu who was kneeling with all his might, head on the ground, continuously asking for forgiveness from you, continuously asking for more time, just a little more. He hates this, he hates it. Because, when it sank in, you were gone.

The scene of your death. ⁆ To Visualize :) But instead of it being Kousei playing the piano, it's Atsumu when he plays volleyball, but when someone comes up to him, tapping on his back with a bright smile for an interview after the game; it's not you.

#Atsumu Miya #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x you #atsumu x y/n #break up #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #timeskip atsumu #timeskip haikyuu #Akaashi Keiji #Atsumu angst #MSBY

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notchesandbullets · 4 years ago

Text

Ryokuryuu’s Lifeline

Part 2: Unresolved Fury From the Past

Read Part 1: Here

Jae-ha had situated the two of you behind one of the trees, giving you a clear view of the setting sun from the cliff side. You stayed tangled together for a while, until your eyelids started to feel heavy. Surrounded by Jae-ha's warmth, it was all too easy to fall asleep. But even still, you fought silently against the urge to drift off into unconsciousness.

As you squirmed in his arms fighting your silent battle, Jae-ha gently rubbed your skin soothingly, looking down at you in concern. Blinking your eyes open slowly, you focused in on the frown that had settled on his face.

"I'm sorry..." You apologized quietly, hiding your face in your hands.

Jae-ha shook his head quickly, expression echoing disbelief but before he could say anything, Yona burst through the trees, hands tightly pressed to her chest as she ran. Your eyes snapped open and you were up on your feet in an instant, startling the princess as she nearly knocked you over.

"Y/N!" She exclaimed in surprise, turning her attention to the green dragon as he stepped up behind you. "Jae-ha!"

"Hello, Yona dear." He replied with a signature smirk on his face. "What are you running away from?"

"N-Nothing!" Yona denied hurriedly. You raised an eyebrow at her, and she turned her face away but you caught a glimpse of it. She was blushing.

Actually, that was an understatement.

Her entire face was bright red, and you had a feeling that it wasn't just from running.

"Girl time!" You announced loudly, taking Yona's hand, not hesitating as you felt something sticky and pulled her towards the path leading back to the ship. Jae-ha moved to follow the two of you, but you stopped him. "Whoa there, big guy. Girls only."

You grinned cheekily at him as towered over you with his broad frame.

"You beautiful ladies need protection, and I am inclined to provide it." He said charmingly, flipping his green ponytail over his shoulder. Yona refused to look at either of you at this point, and Jae-ha didn't miss the way you stiffened at his words.

Meeting his gaze, you offered him a small smile, but Jae-ha didn't feel all that reassured as he felt the guilt creep in.

"Later," You mouthed to him, pressing two fingers to the inside of his wrist in assurance.

Jae-ha relaxed slightly.

You were okay.

But that didn't ease his guilt.

As you and Yona continued in the direction of the docks, Jae-ha kept his eye on both of you until you disappeared from his sight. He thought about following you, but you probably wouldn't be too happy about it when you found out.

Her safety is worth the consequence. He decided, readying himself to spring up into the air.

Then a very distressed Hak came exploding from the thicket, causing Jae-ha to very nearly jump out of his skin. The Thunder Beast and the Ryokuryuu stared at each other in silence for several moments.

Then Hak groaned, tossing his weapon down to the ground and sliding down the trunk of the tree behind him. His head lolled back, landing on the bark with a resounding 'thump'.

Jae-ha strolled over to the visibly conflicted ex-general, standing adjacent to him against the tree.

"Go away Droopy-Eyes." Hak's voice was muffled by his hand, the other running through his tousled hair.

The green dragon looked up at the sky, slyly smirking. "Did something happen between you and Yona dear?" He teased.

Hak growled, "You're asking for it." He threatened darkly, slapping a hand against his head incredulously as Jae-ha grinned knowingly, spinning around on his heel to face him, robes fluttering.

"What did you do?" Jae-ha pressed, leaning forward. "Yona dear looked so embarrassed. Though, she looked so cute like that, all fluster-"

He raised his right leg to block Hak's strike as he brought down his spear, preventing the Thunder Beast from doing any real damage.

"Ah..." Jae-ha sighed, "Careful, if you don't make a move on her soon, I just might."

Hak froze.

Then, Jae-ha held up his hand, a smug grin on his face.

"Kidding."

The teasing smirk faded as he identified the pain flickering across the man's face.

"I'm sorry for hurting her." Jae-ha looked carefully at the Thunder Beast whose eyes were downcast, as if he couldn't believe that he had hurt you.

Jae-ha's jaw hardened as he recalled the blood that marred your face and didn't respond.

They sat in silence for a moment before Hak broke it. "What happened to Y/N?"

The green dragon's face quickly became guarded. "What do you mean?"

Hak almost smiled at Jae-ha's protective streak, but the Thunder Beast had noticed your quiet resolve to fight, he just didn't know why. You were never like that back at the palace. You were just as childish as the princess at the time, not aware of the world outside the castle walls. By being sheltered for so many years, Hak was worried when he noticed your childish streak was not quite the same as it was before.

You had grown up.

But there was more to it than that, wasn't there?

"Y/N is different than I remember." Hak explained carefully, not wanting to unintentionally evoke the wrath of the dragon. "I expected that much, but it seems as though she's been through some difficult times."

Jae-ha exhaled heavily. "That's an understatement." He muttered. Hak shot him a curious glance.

The Ryokuryuu settled on the ground across from the Thunder Beast, leaning back on his hands. His green fringe almost covered his eyes, but Hak could distinguish the unresolved fury barely restrained beneath.

"I don't know everything that has happened." Jae-ha started, brushing hair from his eyes to study Hak closely. "I don't think she fully knows what happened either."

Steel glinted dangerously in the moonlight as Hak's grip tightened on his spear.

How bad was it that you unconsciously blocked it from your memory?

After a heavy pause, Jae-ha continued, "I don't know how she got to Awa, I was the one to find her. She was chained to a back alley on the far side of town, near the forest."

Hak's eyes widened in shock.

"I had been scouting the area, I had just recently joined Captain Gi-gan's crew back then, and was trying to prove myself and be useful." He gritted his teeth. "When I first found her, huddled in a ball on the corner of an alleyway, dressed in almost nothing, I ran away."

Jae-ha left out the part where the reason for that was because he was so traumatized at such a familiar sight that he couldn't take it, so he fled.

The Thunder Beast didn't need to know that.

Jae-ha leaned forward, resting his arms on his criss-crossed legs. "I didn't get more than a few feet away before I went back as fast as I could." He shook his head. "I broke her chains with my leg and brought her to the captain. She's been with us ever since."

Hak fixated on the grass on the ground, deep in thought. "Is that why you're so set on taking down Yang Kum-ji?"

A scoff came from the green dragon in front of him. "He needs to be taken down." Jae-ha sneered, violet eyes akin with fire. "The fact that he was most likely the one who allowed her to be treated like that goes against my views of beauty."

The inferno blazed.

"He's not walking away from this alive."

Hak jaw locked. "I want to help."

Jae-ha shot him a familiar charismatic smirk. "You are already going to be."

He straightened when Hak shook his head in response, cobalt eyes flashing with fury. "I want to kill him." He snarled.

Hak looked up at the slightly confused Ryokuryuu. "Growing up, she looked out for me at the castle. She was so much like the princess; innocent but precious. I'm going to kill whoever touched her."

Jae-ha's mouth pressed in a thin line. "I'm sure not sure she would appreciate the gesture, but either way, that's my job."

"Hey!" Hak interjected as Jae-ha stood up. "Wha-"

"It's my job to keep her safe." Jae-ha interrupted. "Just like you protect Yona."

The Thunder Beast's mouth snapped shut at that.

"I love her." Jae-ha admitted, no hint of his usual sarcasm or teasing. "She is for me, what Yona is for you. She's my entire world."

His eyes shone with whirling fear and fierce determination. "Let me protect her."

Hak looked down, before nodding reluctantly. Jae-ha started to walk away.

"But," He heard Hak remark, halting him in his tracks. "I'll help, in any way that I can."

Jae-ha dipped his head in acknowledgement. "I know." He studied the former general. "I'll look out for Yona too."

He heard Hak whisper a 'thank you' under his breath, and he grinned. "Of course, I can always ask Yona dear if she needs help with other things..."

Jae-ha sidestepped the blade as Hak swung his spear at him, easy laughter echoing in the night as an infuriated Thunder Beast chased him all the way back to the docks.

///

You arrived with Yona on the bustling ship, alive with the pirates' excited chatter. Yoon was in the center of it all, having whipped up dinner for the hungry crew.

Quickly pulling Yona behind you, you led her to your room below the deck. As you closed the door, you noticed the princess relaxed a bit. You grabbed some water and bandages from off the table on the far side, making your way back to Yona who was shuffling her feet awkwardly in the center of the room.

"Come sit," You called, patting to your side as you situated yourself on the bed. "I don't bite."

Your grin put Yona at ease and she sat down beside you. "I'm sorry about your father..."

You saw her stiffen from the corner of your eye. You gazed at her sympathetically, but Yona wouldn't meet your gaze as she trained in on her hands resting in her lap.

"Before we made it to Awa, we passed through an abandoned Fire Tribe village."

You looked up at her in surprise and then closed your eyes in sadness, already knowing where this was going.

She told you about the state it was in, and that the people left behind were dying. Yona was silent after she finished, and you could only imagine the suffering she had gone through when she left the castle and finally learned about the reality her kingdom was in.

You gently inspected her hands, taking notice of the many scratches and dripping honey on it. Gesturing for her to let you see them, you raised your eyebrow questioningly, "Do you want to talk about what happened? I'm assuming Hak played a part in this." You said, pointing out the amber liquid.

Yona sighed shakily. "He said it would help take the thorns out."

You nodded as you dipped her hands in the water, noticing her wince as you cleaned the cuts. "That's true." You mused.

The princess' eyes squeezed shut. "Then..." You looked up. "It started to overflow..."

You narrowed your eyes, beginning to bandage her hands.

"What happened?" You inquired after she failed to continue for a few beats.

Yona hesitated, an unknown emotion flickering across her delicate features. "....H-He l-licked it off..."

Staring at her in shock, silence enveloped the two of you until you couldn't hold it back anymore. You laughed heartily, clutching your sides as you rolled back in your bed.

"Y/N!" Yona cried out, "It's not funny! He's always teasing me, and making me feel-"

"What?" You paused your laughter as you inspected her closely. "Making you feel what exactly?

Her purple eyes darted around in confusion. "I-I don't know..."

You softly encouraged, "Try to describe it."

The princess drew her bandaged hands tightly to her chest, bringing her knees up to rest her chin on. The sight before you was nostalgic as you remembered how Yona used to do this years ago when she was scared.

Even back then, Hak was always the one to look out for his princess above all else.

"My h-heart," Yona mumbled, sniffling, "It hurts when h-he does things like that. W-when he teases me, it beats really fast, and I feel like I-I might c-cry when he pulls a-away..."

You watched as she burst into tears, hiding her face in her hands as her small body racked with sobs.

Gathering her in your arms, you patted her head soothingly, the other going to rub her back comfortingly until she eventually quieted.

"Yona," You spoke softly as you pulled back, looking her in the eye. "I know you're scared by what you're feeling," A finger came up to wipe away the tears on her cheeks. "Do you want to know what it is?"

The princess didn't miss the underlying warning. There was a chance she wouldn't like what she would hear, but Yona braced herself and nodded.

You smiled comfortingly, "Know that even with what I say next, it's up to you to decide what you want to do with it, okay? You can choose to acknowledge it or not, both have its own set of consequences." After receiving another dip of the head from the trembling girl across from you, you started.

"Your heart beats faster, right? Almost like it has a mind of its own when you're with him and you can't control it.You feel especially emotional, sometimes you can't even explain it. It's like you're drawn to their side without reason, and you want to protect them and see them happy."

Yona looked at you in wonder.

Looking closely at the princess who had opened her eyes in realization, you finished, "You don't feel this way around anyone else, like you feel incredibly sick if you envision the future without them and it's baffling. Am I right?"

"...How?" Yona asked, uncertainty lingering in the depths of her eyes.

You placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "It's how I feel around Jae-ha." A blush made its way onto your cheeks, and you resisted the urge to cover your face. "He makes me feel safe around him. I love him."

Yona froze. "You, love him?"

You nodded. "I do." You whispered.

"But that's not," Yona stumbled over her words. "You, he... That's not... Hak couldn't possibly..."

You shook your head, ignoring her earlier words, chalking it up to astonishment at all the information you had just revealed to her. "It's not whether he does or doesn't, those feelings usually indicate something deeper than just friendship is all I meant. For me, I know what they are. For you, how much you acknowledge it will determine how much of it you allow to be true."

Leaning back on your hands, you studied the princess who began to fiddle with her hands. "And if anything, I think he does feel that way about you." You said softly. Yona's head shot up, bewilderment crossing her face. "But you'll only ever know for sure if you talk to him about it."

The worn look in her eyes made you pause.

"There's more to this, isn't there?"

That was all the prompting Yona needed.

She told you about that night in Hiryuu Castle, her father's murder, Soo-won's betrayal, her feelings for him and how she was starting to realize for what she felt for Hak. She explained her quest and how she met her new friends and what the priest said was going to happen to Hak if she didn't. Yona even broke to you the death of the young boy as her reason for partaking in the upcoming mission to take down Yang Kum-ji. The rumors that had circulated painted Hak as the king's murderer, but you knew he would never do that. He was far too loyal to King Il, and Yona. You were shocked to find out that Soo-won was behind this, he was such a sweet kid growing up, but you concealed it well for Yona's sake.

You clenched your fists, curling the sheets on your bed tightly in your hands. "The officers killed the boy?"

Yona nodded, the regret and guilt in her eyes mirrored your own.

"I want to fight with you."

You looked directly at her, eyes widening in astonishment as you saw foreign fire simmering in a sea of violet. The once young, innocent and ignorant princess you remembered was no more. In her place was a girl who had the heart of a warrior.

You smirked, eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Your Highness, I'd be honored." You playfully mocked, almost falling off the bed as she pushed you, giggling.

The easy atmosphere grew tense with your next words. "Yona, can you kill someone?"

Her mouth gaped open. "Wha-"

"We're going to take him down." Your eyes flashed with determination. "We're going to make sure Kum-ji never gets the chance to hurt anyone else ever again."

The princess didn't miss the implication behind your words. She hesitated for a split second. "What's your reason for fighting?"

"To protect the people I love." Your eyes softened. "The captain, the other pirates, Jae-ha, the civilians of this town and the ones who are innocent, the ones who never asked for any part of this; I'm doing it for them."

"Did..." Yona paused, conflicted, "Did something happen to you at his hands?"

You froze. "Ah..." Rubbing the back of your neck, you smiled sheepishly. "You are sharper than I gave you credit for."

Despite the obviously uncomfortable topic, Yona beamed at the praise, knowing it was well intended by the genuine admiration on your face.

"Yeah, but that's a story for another day, okay?" You patted the red-haired princess on the head gently as she opened her mouth in protest. "I promise to tell you one day."

Yona nodded. Tilting your head, you grinned widely.

"What?" The princess asked, curious.

"They're back," You replied as Jae-ha's teasing laughter and Hak's irritated shouting reached your ears. "Let's go get some dinner."

Extending your hand to Yona, she grasped it, squeezing it tightly once. "Thank you, for everything."

"Anytime, Your Highness."

A cheeky grin spread across your face, and she puffed out her cheeks in mock annoyance, causing the two of you to head out on deck with bright smiles on your faces, hearts a little lighter than they were before.

You're not alone, Yona...

You watched as Kija and Yoon ran out to greet the princess, the latter shoving a bowl of pirate stew in her hands and scolding her hotly for running off on her own without telling anyone.

Your friends will be there to share your burden, just like you do for them.

Kija wailed as he noticed the bandages wrapped around Yona's hands, with the princess frantically reassuring him that she was alright. Hak eyed his princess from the edge of the boat, positioned next to Shin-ah who was rapidly stuffing his face with food; his fluffy squirrel perched on his arm to sneak in bites of food.

You heard movement from behind you, slyly smirking as you heard the tell-tale whistling of Jae-ha soaring through the air. He landed on top of the cabin gracefully, green hair flowing out from behind him.

And you don't need to worry,

You directed towards Yona silently as Ryokuryuu made his way over to you. The last bit the princess had clued you in on was about was how Jae-ha adamantly refused to join her on her travels.

I have a feeling he'll come around. After all...

You smiled as you studied Jae-ha, observing the way his eyes flickered over to Yona and her group, tension unconsciously easing from his body as he watched them eat heartily, interacting easily with the rest of the crew.

He's started to care about all of you, too.

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hello-im-not-a-possum · 3 years ago

Note

Can we get a fic of Everyone's first reaction to snowflake?

“Everyone was used to supernatural bullshit and as the toons already existed for several years now, they already knew that the Ink could create life. So while there was a bit of shock for some at the thought of the Janitor being the new father of a toon of his own, they mostly congratulated Wally on his new son and/or gave him parenting advice.”

...Sorry, this feels like a cop out, so we just gotta throw a child into a different dimension for kicks and giggles and character development.

Knowing the magic user's history with this kind of thing, Snowflake couldn't help but feel nervous when he saw Joey painting a large circle on the wall and intricate symbols within the said circle.

"G-grandpa Joey, what are you doing?"

"Opening a portal to a different dimension." The animator replied nonchalantly. "An important key ingredient for several reversal spells no longer seems to exist in this one, so I'm getting more from the closest one that has a lot of it before the Ink starts acting up again."

"Oh?" The little devil looked intrigued, the last time a visitor from another dimension came to their own, he was strange, but friendly! And wondered what the rest of that dimension, or other ones like it were like. "Can I come? I-I'll be good I promise!"

"Well..." Joey brushed his mustache in thought as the portal started to open. "Other dimensions can be quite unpredictable, especially ones where magic is much more secretive than it is in our own, I don't think the studio on the other side even has living toons yet!" The animator fidgeted with his collar. "And given the track record other Joeys have with their own studios and magic, I don't think it's smart for me to take you..."

"Pleeeeeaaaaasse!" the imp begged. "I promise that I'll stay close and not run off! ...unless it's an emergency."

"Hmm..."

The magic user narrowed his eyebrows and continued to stroke his mustache as he thought about the potential consequences for bringing Snowflake along. The thought of a distraught Wally discovering that he had taken his son somewhere dangerous and the kid got hurt as a result had made the man immune to the imp's otherwise irresistible puppy eyes, but the Ink behind the imp slowly rising from a puddle to a featureless figure that was making threatening gestures made him quickly realize that the consequences for NOT bringing Snowflake along might be even worse than taking him.

"Okay."

"Yay!" the little devil cheered, taking Joey by the hand and pulling him through the portal. "C'mon! Let's go see what other dad's like!"

"Wait, wait, wait, wait," the old man gave a sharp tug on the speckled imp as he tried to run off and knelt down to be closer to his eye level. "This is *just* a last-resort errand run, nothing more, nothing less. Now that we're here, we are going to find the ingredient, get it and get out. Ideally, we won't even come across our alternate selves, let alone speak to them!"

"Why?"

Joey looked around nervously before bringing his voice down to a whisper and gestured for Snowflake to do the same.

"Because of the butterfly effect we'll bring here! How do you think the Wally on this side will react when you tell him you're his son from a different dimension when where he's from, magic is genuinely not real for him?"

"...He'll freak out?"

"Yes! Not only will he freak out but he'll probably tell everyone he knows! Including this world's Joey, who judging by his nickname; "That shi- shoot heel puppeteer", is the last person who needs to know about magic, let alone how to use it..."

"Oh. Yeah, that doesn't sound good..." the imp agreed as he suddenly regretted his decision. "Do you think it's too late to throw me back-"

The pair gazed at the now blank spot on the wall where they came from.

"...Unfortunately yes, so stay close and put on a disguise."

"I-I didn't bring one..." the imp sheepishly responded. "...Sorry, I got too caught up in the excitement."

Joey sighed deeply as he took off his glasses and sweater vest, putting them on the kid toon instead.

"It's not the best, but it'll do for now as long as we don't stick around long enough for them to see past it, so let's hurry out of here!"

Snowflake nodded and guided Joey as he tried to navigate the similar-yet different studio. (The man did not wear glasses for the sake of aesthetic.)

The layout seemed similar enough, but there were less pipes running through the building, the colors were duller, the stale smell of tobacco, old coffee, sweat, and a coppery-earthy scent that reminded Joey of blood but wasn't quite similar enough for him to call it that lingered in every single room they entered, the employees that they passed might as well have been reanimated corpses with how drained of energy they looked, all of them didn't even so much as acknowledge the pair's presence.

That was, until, an unfamiliar-looking yet familiar sounding janitor took notice. The man didn't look like Snowflake's dad, he was a lanky fellow and wore the same hat that his own father wore to work, but the similarities in appearance stopped right there. This world's Wally had shaggy, dark brown hair, eyes so dark that they looked black, a crooked nose, and when he smiled at them, Snowflake could clearly see that the man was missing a tooth.

"Hey, how'd you two get in 'ere?"

Joey cursed under his breath before answering the other Wally.

"Well, I was just-"

The dimension-traveling duo suddenly felt dozens of angry eyes on them, which had melted into confusion and mild intriguement as they realized that the man who spoke looked more like a kindly grandpa with an odd-looking Bendy doll with him instead of their sleazy boss. The pair of outsiders were afraid they fucked everything up before to the relief of the pair and the horror to everybody else, they heard the voice of Sammy in the other room shouting "God dammit Joey! I told you time and time again to stay out of the music department!" followed by the revving of a chainsaw.

The animator was quick to realize his mistake as he cleared his throat and did his best 'sounds like a normal voice but isn't MY normal voice' voice.

"-I was just looking for a herbal shop nearby but got turned around. If one of you fine folks could give my grandson and I directions, we'll happily get out of your hair."

Wally frowned in confusion as he looked at the very obviously not-human creature who smiled meekly at him and waved. He shrugged off the mild weirdness as he remembered that he did know where an herbal shop was.

"Dat's all? No problem! Herbal shop's right next to a really good burgah joint, has a statue of a knight wranglin' a unicorn right outside da place, ya can't miss it, an' by extension, ya can't miss da herbal shop eithah."

"Why thank you, you're too kind..."

"Oh and uh, Sorry if da musicians 'ere freaked ya out." The janitor adjusted his hat, it now covered the man's eyes. "Our music director recently got re-hirahed but nobody's willin' ta forgive da boss ova what he put him through, not dat I blame 'em, I get jitteahs every time I think about it happenin' ta me too!"

Joey nodded sympathetically as he reached for his companion's hand and internally panicked as he couldn't find it.

---

Snowflake ran off, the eyes on his back and by proxy, the pressure of knowing that the fate of this world and his own was on his back was far too intense. In his mad rush, he had only made his situation worse with everywhere he ran as he had lost Joey's glasses on accident, which was a vital part of the disguise.

"Holy sheit! is that a bloody livin' toy?!"

"What in the goddamn... Bertrum! Come look! You gotta see this!"

"My word! What has Drew done?"

"Okay, this time I'm finally going to quit for real! I swear, these hallucinations are just getting worse every time I come into work!"

"It... it worked! Tom, look!"

"Or at least, this one looks better than the first model- Hey! Get back here!"

It was terrifying thinking about how these alternate versions of the people he knew and grew to love, ones who shared their voices and careers, but not appearances, memories, and experiences could very well be his enemies. Most chilling of all, he heard Joey's voice in the crowd.

"Well done Tommy! At least this one looked halfway presentable!"

He shuddered at the thought of that Joey getting his hands on him. He didn't even know where he ran off to, only that he had to escape from them, he then squeezed himself into a small crack in the wall, an easy feat for a boneless ink creature, not so much for anything else.

His heart pounded loudly against his chest, the little imp tried to hush it, and prayed that the noise wouldn’t give him away he just needed to calm down. But his prayers went unanswered as the 'click-clack' of a pair of high heels passed by, and a woman crouched down, possibly hearing him.

“Now how on earth did you manage to wedge yourself in there, little guy?”

He recognized that voice all right, he scooched deeper into his hiding spot, hoping she’d leave him alone. The woman, the Susie Campbell of this world judging by her voice, might’ve looked at him with concern, but something about her just felt… wrong to him. He knew of alternate realities, good ones, bad ones, and downright weird ones, but this one felt uncanny to him and he just wanted to go home, it wasn't outright worse than most dimensions, but it seemed so bleak and miserable.

Hopefully he was wrong, but as of right now, it felt like this was a world that wouldn't even so much as bat an eye at its own destruction.

"I-I shouldn't have asked in the f-first place..." he muttered to himself. "I s-should've j-just left Joey to do his errand and s-stayed out of it..."

"Hey," the woman gently knocked on the wall, all the imp could see of her was her face, a face that looked mostly normal except for her left eye, which looked glassy and didn't look at him like her right eye did. "Are you okay in there?"

Snowflake stayed quiet.

"Oh no..." the woman muttered to herself. "Don't panic, I'll go get help!"

She said as she left, but her words didn't make the little guy feel any better.

He slowly crawled out of his hiding spot, ready to hunt down another one while fighting off the guilt that came with making the other Susie worry about him, while her eye was weird, she seemed just as nice as the one from his own dimension.

What seemed less nice however, was the sudden cold, yet firm grip on his shoulder.

"You know, it's very rude ta ignore folks who's just tryin' ta help you."

"Eep!"

The imp spun around to face a man with a familiar voice, he was a tall, dark-skinned, older man with an eye patch on his right eye, had a thin frame, and attire that vaguely reminded Snowflake of a comic about a western vampire hunter that Buddy showed him.

"Awfully jumpy, aren't ya, kiddo?" Norman chuckled as he knelt down to his eye level. "I get that a lot from people. But in all seriousness, we can't just have yous wanderin' around wherever you please, this here studio's a dang deathtrap, even on the best of days."

"S-sorry Norman..." Snowflake adjusted Joey's sweater vest as a realization dawned on him: judging by the studio workers' lack of a surprised reaction to him, this world might be more magical than his own world's Joey assumed. "Hey, wait a minute, are toons real h-here too? Can I find Bendy, Alice and Boris around here?"

Norman raised an eyebrow in confusion, but thankfully for the imp's sake, he stayed calm.

"Mr. Drew's tryin' but he ain't got a dang thing ta show for it. Although, I'm kinda hoping he can't, it doesn't sit too right with me. Just call it a gut feelin', but I don't trust that anythin' good will come from him messing with things like that."

"Y-yeah..." Snowflake nodded. "I've been here for less than f-fifteen minutes and I think I can see exactly what you mean. This place's Joey seems so much worse than my Joey."

"Sorry ta hear that little guy..." Norman knelt down to the little demon. "So, would ya mind ta tell me about this 'other Joey?"

"Oh, sure thing!"

---

True to her word, when Susie returned, she brought over three people; Wally, Joey who was now wearing his slightly broken glasses (Who Snowflake was relieved to see), and a shirtless, long-haired man with a chainsaw in his hands.

He was tall and broad, had dark brown hair and tan skin, his eyes were a stormy gray, and they were sharp with a steadfast determination that made Snowflake feel nervous, the little imp felt like there was something deeply terrifying about this man, and not just because he was currently carrying a dangerous weapon. Although, he couldn't deny that he felt a sense of familiarity with this man that he had not felt with the others in this dimension.

Snowflake felt like he's met this man before.

"Alright, and he should be right here..." The voice actress trailed off as she saw the timid devil shyly wave at her, very much freed from his wall prison and seemed to be chatting with her favorite projectionist. "Oh! Hi Norman! Thanks for getting him out for us and keeping him company!"

"It was no problem, the kid wasn't half bad company."

"Ya know kid, we're glad ta see ya okay, but your grandpops and I was lookin' everywhere for you! Not gonna lie, ya gave us both a scare when ya ran off alone like dat."

"The fuck is that thing?"

"Sammy!" The woman elbowed the shirtless man in the ribs. "Be nice!"

"Alright..." The man rolled his eyes and gave a forced smile that showed off black gums and yellowish-grayish teeth that creeped Snowflake out (the smile itself, not the man's gums or teeth, judging by his smell, he was an avid smoker and it was at least normal for him to have a mouth like that, the smile however... he doesn't think a man's smile should be that wide.). As he lifted the little devil up by the shirt like a scruffed kitten, he presented him to Joey. "Now then, is this your lost little lamb?"

"Yes." Joey reached for the imp. "Please don't hold him like that."

"Nearest exit is down the hall, take a right turn when you reach the giant broken pipe that's leaking everywhere and hasn't been touched for at least a week." The man gestured fluidly as he still held up that creepy smile. "As... lovely as it was for you two to visit us and our little studio, we really should be getting back to work before Joey decides to fire and blacklist everyone in this room for loitering or something."

"Uh... thanks?" Joey suddenly snapped upright. "Wait, how are you all so calm about this?! All of you are barely even reacting over a living cartoon character right there!"

"Speaking of which do you know who doesn't need to know about that? Our boss. You claim you're not here for a meet and greet and I don't think this should turn into one. You got the information you came here for, now get what you needed from here and get out."

"Wow, you're a rather blunt fellow, aren't you?"

"You could say so."

"W-well, I-it was scary, but it was also nice meeting all of you! Maybe we should visit again later so we can know each other better!"

"Oooh! I'll look forward to it!" Susie smiled warmly. "Good luck with your ingredient hunt, boys!"

Sammy started to shove the pair down the hall as he felt they wouldn't leave otherwise.

"Yeah, yeah, goodbye and all that, see you soon, I won't forget to write... Have yourselves some happy travels! Goodbye again."

The musician led them out of the building and dusted off his hands as he returned to the others who did not look happy with him.

"That was very rude, Lawrence..." Susie scolded. "They just wanted our help!"

Wally shook his head but didn't add anything.

"And we gave it!” He hissed. “Do you really think it would be safe for them to stay and talk with the shitheel around? Especially after what he just did to us?! Do you want HIM to know that there's a different version of him who got everything he's wanted and more? What do you think he'll do to them when he finds them? Do you want to find out?"

Susie's face scrunched up in realization as the other two men uncomfortably shuffled in their spots.

"I thought so..."

"...Think they'll come back?" Norman piped up. "I kinda wanted to talk with that other Joey."

The musician shrugged.

"Do ya at least think we'll find a way ta get ta 'em ourselves?"

"Maybe? If they would a way here, I wouldn't be surprised if we could get there."

"Wanna look for a way there? Ya gotta admit you're curious what the other us are like too!"

"Hmm... Well, maybe after hours."

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #Hell's Studio AU #joey drew #snowflake the demon #wally franks #norman polk #susie campbell #sammy lawrence #fanfic

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enithinggoes · 3 years ago

Text

Wanderer’s Refuge, chapter 2: caught red-handed

Agatha and Ursa knew they wouldn’t be able to stay flying for long, by morning they were already starting to feel hungry and thirsty, so Ursa pointed them to a nearby town she’d heard of so they could get supplies and maybe some maps of the country, they brought the train down as they approached and parked it hidden in a small clearing, then the girls went together into town, looking to find some means to get by just for the near future, as luck would have it, a very important opportunity was waiting just around the corner…

A young red haired man who preferred to go just by his first name was leaning against a wall, gathering his thoughts. He had the plan, he had the smarts, he had the stuff, he just needed the extra hands, someone desperate enough to take the risks and not ask about a big cut…

“We’re gonna need a way to make money.” Said Ursa, pushing Agatha’s wheelchair along the busy streets “and I don’t think people are gonna be super keen on hiring two teenagers that came out of nowhere.”

The man reacted instantly upon hearing them, “Perfect!”, and pushed himself off the wall, catching the coin he was flipping with a flourish and quickly turning to the girls and extending a gloved hand, he wore a dapper suit and a cheeky smile. “Good morning, young ladies! Haven’t seen you around here, are you two looking for a quick job?”

Agatha was a bit stunned by this sudden encounter, so it was all she could do to put her hand out, which the young man vigorously shook.

“Who are you and what the hell do you want with us?” said Ursa, clearly on edge.

“The name’s Lawrence, and there’s no need to be so rude. I want to take you two to lunch, my treat; I know this great place downtown. There, we can discuss a way you can both make 100 shillings in less than a week.”

The two girls glanced at each other, this man was twelve kinds of shady, but 200 total pounds was enough for not only basic supplies, but probably a few mattresses and an ice box, maybe even some coal(they hypothesized that maybe giving the train’s engine some steam might make Agatha less tired from flying).

“We’ll talk over lunch, but we do reserve the right to back out even if you pay for us!” Ursa answered, eyeing Lawrence suspiciously

“Of course, of course. Right this way, then!” The redhead did something close to a twirl turning back and leading them quickly down an alley.

At the restaurant, Lawrence had impeccable table manners, even better than Agatha’s, and definitely than Ursa’s, who was scarfing down an expensive cut of beef when he asked “So, I’ve told you ladies my name, it would be rude if you didn’t give me yours.”

“I’m Agatha Clarke, it’s a pleasure to meet you. And this is Ursa Martin,” said the white-haired girl, Ursa just mumbled in agreement while still chewing.

“Now, an illustrious coal baron, mr. Robert Evans, is coming to town with an entourage to visit the local mines, which have been drying up for a few decades. And I’d wager, with proper prestidigitation we can make a deal with him that shall be quite lucrative for us.” Lawrence explained with a devilish smile.

“So you’re a scammer.” Ursa said matter-of-factly.

“I prefer to think of myself as a merchant that really knows how to make a sale.” He said, entirely unperturbed.

“Alright, I’m down to scam a coal baron, what’s the game?”

“I’m glad you’ve asked, partner.”

Over the next few days, Lawrence brought the girls over to where he’d been staying, it was a small hotel room, surprising considering the apparent quality of his suit, Ursa had to carry Agatha’s chair up, since there were only stairs. There, he showed them a few large bags of oddly shaped rocks he’d collected plus some soot-based paint, “made it myself!” he commented with a wink.

They spent their time painting the rocks very thoroughly to look as much like coal as possible, while putting them out to dry, Agatha innocently asked “Sir Lawrence, I hope you don’t mind but why do you keep all your belongings in bags and pouches, is there something wrong with the room’s lockers?”

“Well, you see, I just like to keep my things close at hand.” The red-haired man seemed bashful, like that was only half an answer, still, Agatha didn’t want to pry. “You’re a very wholesome woman, aren’t you? I was actually a bit worried you’d be against my business model.”

“Well, you see, sir, I don’t think a baron of anything is going to be hurting for money anytime soon. And we don’t have many options in the present moment.” Agatha avoided mentioning she was already, by all accounts, a criminal.

Lawrence put his knuckle to his chin and said “I see, I guess I misjudged you a little. Well, then we’d best get back to work, we have some rehearsing to do!” He felt like he understood her a bit more, but cut the conversation short, he didn’t like getting too attached to his “coworkers”

The three of them slept in Lawrence’s cramped room, Agatha and Ursa wanting to avoid the hassle of moving back to the train and the possibility of revealing their magical artifice, who knows how Lawrence could react?

The guests shared a sleeping bag of his cuddled together on the floor, while Lawrence rested on his bed, never taking off his gloves or turning his back to the door.

When a total of 5 days had passed, the final preparations were made in the morning and the three headed close to the city’s entrance, when they saw a man in a strikingly black suit accompanied by three burly lads, his eyes and nose turned slightly upwards as he strode, Ursa and Lawrence, both wearing dirty overalls, walked down onto the street, shouting at each other.

“Ya can’t sell those, those are all that’s left of Pa!” said Ursa, faking the accent people imagined miners to have.

“Well he worked himself ta death findin’ these so we could live a decent life!” retorted Lawrence, carrying a large, metal bucket full of painted pebbles.

“We could take over this whole town if ya just worked in that mine for a few more weeks!” she grabbed onto Lawrence’s shoulders, shaking him.

“We ain’t gonna be alive for more weeks if Ah don’t sell these!” He pushed her away, purposefully letting the rocks shake and make noise inside the bucket.

The baron’s bodyguards were about to push the two away from his path when, with an elegant, but firm hit of his cane onto the sidewalk, he commanded them to stop. Lawrence and Ursa turned to face him, feigning surprise.

“Now now, there’s no need for such vulgarism. Young man, would you kindly show me what you’re holding there?” He spoke to Lawrence slowly, like one speaks to a child.

As Ursa pretended to hold Lawrence back, he proudly showed the contents of the bucket, saying “This is what Pa used to call ‘charboné eterinow’, said he’d heard of it when he was young like me, burns as long as ya like, it does.”

“’Charbon eternél’, hmm, the eternal coal” Mr. Evans was clearly proud of his french, “could you show it to me in action?”

Lawrence put the bucket on the floor, smiling widely as he bragged “of course, mistah! Let me just get it burnin’ real quick” he took a little flask of moonshine from his pocket and let some drip onto the inside of the bucket, before setting it on fire with a simple tinderbox and quickly removing his hand before the flames flared to life.

“Easy there!” He quickly leaned back, his hands hovering at the sides of the bucket as they watched the flames cover the entirety of the bottom of the bucket, making the rocks hard to even look without feeling pain in one’s eyes.

Ursa was very nervous about this step, in theory, there should be nothing stopping the flame from fizzling out once all the alcohol was consumed, but Lawrence had assured her he “had a plan”. Lo and behold, the fire didn’t go out, instead it flared beautifully up, almost burning the coal baron’s clothes as it seemed to reach towards his eyes before stabilizing inside the bucket.

Whatever it was that Lawrence had done, it seemed that he was quite anxious too, as he stuck his tongue out the corner of his mouth in concentration and quickly started to sweat, thought that might have been from the heat, while his hands hovered near the bucket for more than two minutes before he quickly turned it upside down, fast enough for none of the rocks to go flying.

“That should put it out in a few” said Lawrence, holding the bucket while the oxygen from the bucket depleted until he raised it up to reveal the still perfectly intact rocks underneath.

“See! Not one bit a wear n’ tear! Pretty special, right?” Lawrence turned looked up towards Robert Evans.

The coal baron hid his amazement by biting his lip and muttered “Special indeed.”

“Well, waddaya think? Pa told us these would be worth a fortune, how’s 600 sound?” Lawrence named a tall price, all part of negotiations.

“No, no, this is certainly impressive, but 600 is too much for a novelty, I’ll be generous with you and give you 300.”

“That’s a done deal!” The men shook hands, and after the money was exchanged, he paid Ursa and said he still had “some details to deal with really quick” so she and Agatha could go back to the room or wherever they wanted now.

Ursa met up with Agatha nearby, and excitedly told her about how the plan had worked, how they had enough money now to buy the things they would need to live for a while. Agatha asked about Lawrence, but Ursa said they shouldn’t expect him to hang around for long after the job, he was clearly a man with no interest in roots, ready to leave at any time.

“Guess that doesn’t make him very different from us.” Agatha commented with a sympathetic smile.

“huh… guess not.” Commented Ursa, made somewhat aware of her cynicism.

Meanwhile, Lawrence was making the “real” part of this plan come to fruition, he brought mr. Evans(at his request), to the “source” of the “charbon eternél”. A field of bare stone around a dark cave, were he’d half-buried, just conspicuously enough, dozens of painted rocks just like the ones in the bucket he carried, he counted on the baron’s arrogance to make him believe Lawrence wouldn’t see the potential something like a “mine of ever-burning coal” could have to completely destroy the current state of the economy.

“Here it is mister, this is where Pa found ‘em, spent 25 years looking for ‘em, he did.” Lawrence said, pointing around the area on the outskirts of town.

“I see,” said Robert Evans, “the site of such an interesting find should definitely be preserved, would you be willing to sell it to me for about 500 pounds?”

“Fahve hundred! Why that’s too kind, sir! I’d love to give it to you, I’ve been trying to get off this town and make it in the big city.” Lawrence rapidly shook Evans’ hand, keeping up the farce that he was the one being tricked with a lower value than this could really be worth, his plan had worked perfectly.

Lawrence went back to his room, with a score like this, 600 pounds all to himself, he really should take the chance to exit the scene as quick as he could, before anyone caught on and came to ask him for refunds.

He put his suit back on and gathered his things, his clothes, his sleeping bag, his toothbrush, his switchblade, any trace of the time he’d spent here, the only thing he left behind was a note with “good luck out there, don’t look for me.” For the people who had been his roommates for the last week, he pushed a pang of guilt at giving them such a small share of the score and just disappearing without a word away with the thought that this was just “the game”, and he’d just learned to play it well.

Lawrence thought a bit about where he could go now, probably somewhere with a big market and lots of gullible tourists. Yeah, that’d be good for a few more months, maybe even a year and a half.

After picking out a town south of where he was, he bought his ticket and waited inside the station, it would still a few hours until the train he’d booked came, but he didn’t want to risk any unfavorable encounters by walking around outside.

Unfortunately that didn’t stop two burly men, who he recognized as the coal baron’s bodyguards, from coming up to him and telling him to get up and come with them. Ok, a little snag, nowhere to just run away, no trains for a long time, but it’s fine, he can weasel his way out of this.

They brought him into an alleyway, where he met mr. Robert Evans again, he didn’t seem upset, but was definitely not friendly, as soon as Lawrence saw him, he started saying “I can explain,”.

“So,” interrupted the baron, “It appears to me you were not fully honest with your description of this ‘ever-burning coal’, were you?” He showed one of the painted rocks with a part broken off, showing the gray center.

“Alright, you got me, I was trying to pull one over on you, you’ve gotta know it’s a common thing around here, that’s the game, and you won! I’ll pay you back with 50% extra, promise.”

The coal baron took a step forward, smirking at Lawrence dropping the façade he’d adopted when speaking to him. “I see, but I think I have a better idea of how you could… reward me for this “win”. Would you mind telling me how you got that fire to keep burning that long?”

“It was the alcohol!” Lawrence sputtered out, “I-it is mixed with a slower burning substance that kept it bright longer!”

“Seize his hands, please.” The two bodyguards grabbed onto Lawrence’s arms, he was shoved to the ground, bruising his chin and getting his arms held behind his back, his left glove was pulled off, revealing crimson-red fingers.

“Ah, the devil’s hand, I suspected it when I noticed your gloves were the only thing you wore on both occasions where we met, so I think I know a way you can repay me even better:” Evans put his foot on top of Lawrence’s head, pressing it to the floor. “You see, I happen to know there’s a 500 pound reward for capturing your kind, dead or alive, so along with taking back the money you stole from me, I’ll be making quite a big profit.

Lawrence tried to look forward, find something he could do to escape, at the end of the alleyway, he could just barely see two girls in new clothes, one of them in a wheelchair, maybe it was Agatha and Ursa! They could help him, right? No, he left them before, and maybe they even knew he’d lowballed them, why would they risk their lives for someone like him?

“Anything to say for yourself, monster? Aren’t you gonna squirm some more? Or can you at least face death like a man”

He couldn’t find anything, after all, he’d tried everything before, nobody ever listened, ever saw him like a person after knowing what his hands meant, they called him a living timebomb, a danger to society, he’d grown used to it by now, he could try to burn them all to death, become fitting of his description, use this supposed power that had made him a target all his life…

Before he could finish weighing if he’d rather risk trying to escape while they dragged him to the local precinct or give up on trying to subvert their judgment of him by just leaning into the raging fire, the weight over his body suddenly disappeared as Ursa launched her whole body with a burst of steam it into Robert Evans, her elbow connecting with his back and the force throwing him into his bodyguards and knocking them off their feet.

“Can you run?” she crouched down and asked him while untying his wrists.

“Certainly better than the alternative.” Lawrence answered, already getting up onto his knees and putting his gloves back on.

They ran out of the alley and Lawrence followed Ursa as she wheeled Agatha out of town and towards the nearby woods, he didn’t know where they were going but if they had a route to get away from here it certainly beat staying.

When they came to a clearing, the young man had a hard time believing what he saw, a two wagon train in the middle of a forest.

“Get in!” Said Ursa, lifting Agatha’s chair onto the train as Lawrence followed them inside

“I don’t know if I can give it liftoff, last time we were already in the air when it manifested.” Agatha went to the train’s caboose and lifted herself to the conductor’s chair, focusing on visualizing the train in flight as she’d seen before. The train started moving as its tracks began to form, but it couldn’t quite accelerate quick enough to beat the upwards incline, the boiler made a roaring noise, like a starved tiger crying out in rage.

“Shit, I forgot to get any actual coal while we were out!” said Ursa, looking for something flammable she could part with, maybe they’d have enough time before someone came for Lawrence to go out and cut down some trees.

Lawrence clutched his own arms, hesitating a bit to do something he knew would be an unnecessary risk, but he owed at least some help to these people, right? “You’ve already collected the necessary water for the boiler right?”

“Yes, we’ve even already filled it, we just need a flame to light it,” replied Agatha, still concentrating on trying to move the train through her sheer will.

Lawrence pulled back his sleeves, he didn’t want to burn them with an effort this large, he extended his hands into the boiler and flames entirely engulfed the inside of it, barely licking at his forearms. The heat quickly started transforming the water in the boiler into steam, launching the train into motion forwards and upwards.

Agatha and Ursa stared at Lawrence’s hands, marveling at the beauty of the flames and their incredible power before Agatha had to focus on guiding her machine and Ursa had to hold on to avoid falling over from the sudden acceleration.

After they’d picked up some good altitude and speed, Lawrence pulled his hands out of the boiler and turned to look out the window, seeing the world from above for the first time, right here, it felt like nobody could hurt him, no one could look down or him or hunt him down for a strange birthmark he never asked for, it was beautiful.

“So…” He turned to Agatha, “how long can I stay here, could you at least drop me off at the next town you come to?”

“Oh.” Agatha didn’t turn away from the blue sky she was plowing through, “You may leave if you’d like, sir, but you’re welcome to stay as well.”

Lawrence did a double-take, why would anybody take this risk? Put their own lives at stake sheltering a man who could never not be a target for the rest of his life? “Really”

Ursa came up to him, tapping him on the shoulder, “yeah man, we’re not throwing you back out there.” She pointed at the town, now tiny from the window of the train.

Lawrence smiled, putting his forearm in front of his eyes, maybe to shelter them from the sun, or to shelter himself from showing his watery eyes.

“Thank you.”

#Wanderer's refuge #Magic #pyromancer #steampunk #Original Work #original writing #original story #disabled character #train #lesbian character #trans character #hurt #comfort #weekly

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halothenthehorns · 3 years ago

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All in the Family

Chapter 32: Cornelius Fudge

Lily was the lucky one. She seemed to have landed in a large, sturdy chair that didn't even fall over as she was slammed into it. Her luck didn't hold, as Potter came stumbling right into her and landed in her lap.

"Sorry," he muttered as he blinked dazedly up at her.

"So am I," she scoffed as she pushed him off. She watched with disinterest as he fell the rest of the way to the ground before looking around. "Are we in Dumbledore's office?" She asked in surprise. It seemed to be as Harry had described, a great circular room with many portraits hung all along the wall. Most surprising of all, the occupants were all present, eyeing the students with great looks of unease.

"No, this isn't right," Potter corrected as he adjusted his glass, though he was only looking at the desk before him. "Dumbledore's desk has clawed feet. This one's not the same, and I don't know why he'd have any reason to change it."

"Plus that's not a Hogwarts view," Lupin agreed, once again at the window. An orange glow of sunset bathed his face as he looked out onto a balcony, the terrace set up for a grand dinner party, the flat lawn beyond something Lily vaguely recalled seeing on her television once.

"We're in the Minister of Magic's office," Frank managed around an awed voice, staring more closely at all the portraits around, particularly the one right behind Lily in a large ornate frame.

"Tas right!" The woman told him, eyeing the lot of them with great suspicion. She had tightly curled grey hair and tiny little specks set upon a mushroom nose. They all vaguely recognized her as their own current Minister for Magic, Millicent Bagnold. "And just what are you lot doing in here? Ministry never allowed tours right into my office in my day."

"Err, tours?" Frank asked eagerly, wondering if they could finally get some sort of clue of what happened to the outside world. "Exactly how long has this office been empty?"

Her face went blank in confusion, before she kept going on in a sharp voice. "Never you mind, you lot need to get out."

"Wish we could," Pettigrew sighed as he once again tried the door unsuccessfully.

An ugly old wizard who resembled a toad with a muddy brown backdrop right next to the door snapped, "wishing never got you anything, how's about you get on with it." Peter eyed the name, Ulick Gamp, committing it to memory so on his O.W.L. exams he could fill in the blank for rudest Minister.

"Right, well, I'm just going to," Black tried to edge towards the bookshelf, eyeing all the titles and looking for the one they needed. Most of them were so boring he couldn't believe anyone had ever cracked the spine open, you'd think a Minister would have a more lively office. Instead, while the place certainly had a grand feel with the domed ceiling and columns of book cases, a few even did have the same knickknacks he'd once spotted in Dumbledore's office, the place felt more like a front than if anyone had decorated with a care for themselves.

Regulus clutched a hat stand to get to his feet, which only had one lime-green bowler hat upon it. He got himself upright and found himself face to face with Artemisia Lufkin, a woman who vaguely resembled McGonagall. He sort of recalled her name as the first Minister to hold a Quidditch World cup in Britain.

"I've found the book," Potter announced behind him, the sounds of him rummaging through the Ministers desk audible. "Here Evans, like a turn?"

She scoffed, but to Regulus' surprise he heard, "give me that, I'll read it just to get us out of here. How about you not go through someone else's things for a change of pace?"

The sounds of another drawer opening stopped, and he heard a deep sigh. "Sorry Evans, can't do that, might be something important in here!" Then the rustling noises of papers being rearranged began.

The red head stormed past him out of his peripheral, and Regulus rolled his eyes for the display. Didn't those two ever get tired of antagonizing each other? "Look alive sunny," Artemisia Lufkin told him with a pleasant sort of smile now, "that's one spit fire you're in the company of."

He turned away in disgust, his eyes falling on his brother and Lupin now chatting animatedly with Grogan Stump, one whom he definitely recognized from his fathers lectures. Of course his brother seemed to like that one, the idiotic Minister who decided to classify all the differences in the sort of creatures out there, but he was also the one who created the Department for Games and Sports. He was one of the few lectures both brothers had enjoyed.

Regulus instead turned to Longbottom now trying to have a proper conversation with a Minister he most certainly did know. Faris "Spout-Hole" Spavin. His mother loved that man, always going on about the story of his attempted assassination by a centaur. "You don't have another portrait anywhere? Can't leave this room and find out if something's going on in the outside world? Merlin, you don't have a clue how we're in this mess? This has to be one of the most collective knowledgeable people in history, and not one of you-

"Oh, they're not going to be of any help," Alice interrupted with a sympathetic frown to her boyfriend. "They're of no more use than our photos you know, they can only say what their real life counterpart was most likely to have. Nothing of the sort we'd need for help, it's beyond them."

"I've never looked into how conscious the portraits are," Frank admitted ruefully.

"I have," Alice shrugged. "They're fascinating, I was thinking about taking up a class this summer."

Evans looked just as disappointed, but finally turned to the book and began reading. None of them recognized the name of Cornelius Fudge, but given their environment it wasn't too hard to put together who he was.

Regulus didn't have much care of the Potter brats worry his friend Hagrid was now the main suspect. That Riddle kid who had tried to put the blame on him was ridiculous, but then, he was from a Muggle orphanage, it was no surprise he was wrong. Obviously Hagrid couldn't be the heir of Slytherin, as far as Regulus knew he wasn't even a competent wizard. No pure-blood of Slytherin's line would be riffraff about the castle grounds.

Lily was reading all of this while trying not to chew her lip up in thought. She unintentionally agreed with Regulus, someone must have framed Hagrid those fifty years ago and then stopped the attacks knowing it would be foolish to keep going. This did nothing to explain Harry's current predicament of who was doing the same now, and why such a long wait in between attacks?

James at least was enjoying hearing of Harry discussing his options for more classes. He could commiserate the feeling of wanting to drop some, and then sat up with interest a new subject was being added.

"Divination?" Peter demanded, circling around the desk as James was now on his knees with files circling him. "Why couldn't we have had that option, do you know how much easier our life would have been to make up shit for our homework instead of Ancient Runes!"

"But you're great at that class," James looked up at him in surprise.

"Yeah, but still, I'd have liked a dozer option," Peter shrugged as he sat down beside him, careful not to sit on anything and block James' progress. "Looking for anything in particular?"

"Not really," he shrugged as he kept going. "Decided not to pass up the opportunity to see what goes on in here though. Mostly it's just his signatures on final documents about imported goods, some minor law regarding trade with Eurasia, food that needs to be shipped out to Azkaban-"

He stopped in surprise and looked around, Peter and everyone else with him as Evans read out the trashed out common room they'd currently left.

"Who on Earth would do such a thing!" Frank asked in surprise.

"Besides the Marauders," Evans agreed with a glare at the two she could still see, knowing the other two were still at it behind the desk.

"It was like that when we entered," Black said carelessly, but there was a suspicious frown on his face all the same as he tried to figure out who would have done this and why. Hermione's suggestion it could only be a Gryffindor didn't make any sense, Harry and Ron had already proved this year anyone in the castle could have gone in. The real question was, why?

They all grew uncomfortably still when they realized the object that was missing Riddle's diary!

"Well, I say good," Remus muttered as he sat down in the Minister's chair and kept eyeing James' work. "That thing was no good and didn't need to be around Harry or anyone. Whoever came and got it from him can deal with such a nasty dark object."

"I don't understand what the point of it was," Sirius was starting to pace in agitation and kicked a file right into James' lap by accident. A few papers scattered out of it while he kept going. "Was Harry supposed to find it? Was him finding it some elaborate trap? Who would care if the point of it was for Harry to see Hagrid being framed all those years ago? Anyone who knew him would know he'd never actually turn on his friend."

"Idiots about the school who don't know him well at all," Peter suggested as he went to pull the last page out from under the desk, while James tried to haphazardly put the rest back into a neat pile.

At least as Evans kept going they had the promise of a good Quidditch match to look forward too, until that was also ruined by that voice once again appearing.

Remus shivered and sunk deeper in his chair, thankful the sun was still clinging to the sky outside even if the sky was turning blood red for it. At least they weren't back in the castle having to hear of such a thing happening again.

"I swear Hermione would stop in the middle of a fight just to go look up a spell!" James laughed in surprise as she darted away again.

"Prongs, look at this," Peter suddenly hissed, now crouching very purposefully under the desk while Evans kept going. He froze in surprise and the two hardly even registered their friends grousing loudly about Quidditch of all things being canceled.

Frank and Alice listened with trepidation, holding each others hands and standing as close to each other as they could in the large office. It didn't matter they weren't in the castle, they could feel the impending doom of whatever had caused such a thing, and were horrified to be right. A double attack, and one was a girl they well knew would affect Harry.

"Oh!" Lily yelped in surprise, dropping the book as if it had scalded her as she read out Hermione's name. Her stomach heaved, she looked near tears. A prefect and another Muggleborn! She may as well picture herself there, petrified forever!

"Shh, hey, it's okay Lily," Alice was at her side then, as if she could rub comfort into her through her arm. "I'll finish this, alright, everything will work out."

"N-no," she said stubbornly at once. "I was just, surprised."

"It's alright to admit otherwise," Frank said kindly, watching her shaking hands in concern.

"Well, I don't need to because I'm not," she snapped, stepping away from both of them. She refused to be pandered too when there was nothing wrong! She was being ridiculous, picturing herself as such a thing, they'd never be getting anywhere near whoever was doing this.

The two exchanged a look of concern but didn't protest anymore, letting her work this out how she saw fit.

The mirror made no sense to anyone, though Regulus shifted restlessly as he was sure an answer was piling up right in front of them. Those school rules McGonagall was suddenly trying to enforce wasn't going to help anything. Then he scoffed in disgust how easily swayed the house of Gryffindor was so ready to blame and throw out anyone of his own house. Of course none of those idiots would recognize a frame up job when one was presented.

"What are you two looking at over there?" Sirius finally demanded when James and Peter shared a dreadful look over mention of Harry going to see Hagrid again. It seemed like a good idea to him, see what the gamekeeper really did have to say about all of this.

"That we don't think Hagrid will be there when the boys come knocking," Peter sighed.

"Why?" Remus sat up in surprise to snatch the paper away now. "Think he's going to make a run for it, that's ridiculous."

"I know I would if that was coming for me," James said grimly when Remus went white in surprise.

"Oh for the love of-" Sirius snatched it away next rather than waiting for Moony to find his tongue, and then promptly lost his own. He swallowed uncomfortably and could only breathe again when the boys did it and found Hagrid indeed still at his cabin. His state though made it clear he was now as aware of his pending doom as they were. Someone would soon be calling to arrest him and take him to Azkaban, as this order by the Minister declared.

"They can't do this!" Peter whispered in a horror mirroring Hagrid's, he'd be doing much more than just breaking teapots around his own place.

"Oh but they can," James spat in disgust, suddenly on his feet and stamping across everything now without a care. More pages scattered about the entire room now, he had half a mind to conjure up more and create a mini-tornado full of all the Ministers most precious things and cast them away forever. He would never let this stand, Hagrid had done nothing to deserve this! If they'd had proof of this act he already would have been locked away, now they were just rehashing an old suspect, and for what? To put the blame on anyone? Or the half-giant.

Dumbledore's presence was the most mild of relief, and that was ruined anyways in the next second as the Minister himself was there to fill out the order.

There was nothing but stunned silence and nasty faces as Evans told all why Fudge was there, and things still only grew worse when Lucius Malfoy arrived.

Regulus tried to look relieved, but he couldn't find the feeling anywhere in him. The pure-blood stepping in would surely make all of this better and stop all this happening to kids, he knew that's exactly what his mother would say, but then he realized he shouldn't even be wanting this to stop. It was true the only ones being attacked were Muggleborns, and who should care if a few less of them were plaguing the school?

He did.

He hated to admit it, even to himself. It left him nauseous with the feeling a knife was going to sprout in his back any second for such a thought, but he couldn't deny it anymore. It just wasn't right, this happening to kids he shared a class with! How could it ever be right to see anyone so terrified for their own life, as Evans clearly was.

He didn't know who to turn to or what to do with this news of Dumbledore now being just as forcibly departed as the gamekeeper. He really couldn't think of much of anything past the idea this had to stop somehow. He couldn't imagine how things could get any worse as they were ripped from this place once more.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #Regulus Black #Marauders #CoS #Reading the books #Wolfstar #Jilly #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Peter Pettigrew #Alice Smith #Frank Longbottom

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cocos-cocoapuffsarenotforsale · 5 years ago

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His Little Witch~~6

MASTERLIST

Part 5

Main Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

Background Pairings: Harry Potter x Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley x Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood x Neville Longbottom, James Potter x Lily Potter, Draco Malfoy x Pansy Parkinson

Tags: Swearing, Canon-Typical Violence, Possessive!Tom Riddle, Protective!Tom Riddle, Soulmates, AU, CANON DIVERGENCE, Minister of Magic Tom Riddle, Out of Character Tom Riddle, nice!Tom Riddle, Dumbledore and Tom get along, sane!Tom Riddle

————————————————————————

It was a few weeks later and the first task was a week away. Harry was a little nervous but it was nothing compared to Lily and Ginny. James has told you that Lily was furious and was still considering marching into Hogwarts and dragging Harry out by his ear. Ginny, on the other hand, was a lot quieter than usual, and she was barely eating and had big, dark circles under her eyes. Harry did his best to try and ease her worries but you could tell it wasn’t working that well.

“So are you guys excited for Care of Magical Creatures this afternoon?” You ask at lunch as you clap your hands together. You were extra excited for your favorite class today because Hagrid has finally decided to let the NEWT class (6th and 7th years) work with unicorns. While you had been introduced to them before you had never had the chance to work one on one with them.

“Yeah, I can’t wait to work with the unicorns. They are so beautiful.” Ginny replies perking up and even giving a small smile.

“I’m not. Those bloody unicorns hate guys. Every damn time you get within five feet of them they try and trample you.” Ron mutters, Harry nods in agreement.

“Why can Hagrid get close to them then?” You ask.

“Well, I mean it’s Hagrid. He’s got some freaky affinity for the weird creatures. They bloody love him.” Ron huffs, shaking his head as he picks at his food. Hermione, Ginny, and you all giggle at him, while Harry just pats his back and shoots him a sympathetic glance.

“Fair enough,” you concede, they had a decent point.

“So any ideas on what the first task will be?” Ron asks Harry in a hushed voice.

“Hagrid’s been dropping hints and I’m pretty sure it involves dragons somehow.” Harry says, “He kept mentioning Norbert, remember that dragon he hatched our first year?” You all nod in understanding.

“Dragons?” Ginny asks breathlessly.

“Gin, I’ll be fine. I wouldn’t have entered if I didn’t think I was capable.” Harry tried to soothe but you know it’s not really working.

“Too bad Professor Lupin has never had us battle dragons.” You chuckle, Professor Lupin, your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was your favorite Professor at Hogwarts. Though Hagrid came in a very close second.

“Yeah too bad. I know for a fact that Sirius has suggested it a time or two,” Harry laughs trying to decrease the tension at the table.

“You’ll do great mate. Though I gotta be honest I’m glad it was you and not me, my mom would’ve killed me.” Ron says shuddering at the thought of his mom’s reaction had he been selected.

“We better head down to Hagrid’s, lunch is almost over,” Hermione advises and you all nod. The four of you say a quick goodbye to Ginny before exiting the Great Hall, trailed by James and Sirius of course.

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“Alright, class today we will start caring for unicorns. As I’m sure most of ya are aware, unicorns ain’t particularly fond of men. So lads, you best be extra careful, go slow, let them get used ta ya. Ladies be cautious but ya probably won’ need ta be as patient,” Hagrid explains before turning the class loose to care for their unicorns. You and Harry were partnered up, Hagrid thought it would be best if the guys were paired up with the girls.

“Why don’t you go first?” Harry suggests eyeing the unicorn nervously. You nod looking back at Sirius and James, who are both on edge when you agree to approach the unicorn.

“Easy girl,” you whisper as you approach her slowly with your hand out to her. She allows you to pet her and gently nudged your hand when you stop.

“Good job Y/n!” Hagrid exclaims approaching you and the unicorn to inspect your work. Looking around you realize you were the only one who had been permitted to pet their unicorn.

“Harry, you could probably try approachin’,” Hagrid suggests before walking over to help Hermione with her unicorn.

You take a step away from the unicorn, much to her dismay if her huff is any indication. Harry approaches her slowly and starts to pet her when you see Malfoy creeping around before you see him conjure a snake. The unicorn is spooked and rears up before accidentally kicking you in the side and knocking you over.

All you remember after that is screaming and then it all goes black.

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“Y/n! Y/n!” You hear voices screaming, sounding terrified. You open your eyes and see Hermione, Hagrid, Ron, Harry, James, and Sirius all clustered around you.

“What the hell?” You grunt confused, why did it hurt to breathe?

“Oh thank Merlin! Yer awake!” Hagrid exclaims as he wipes the tears from his eyes.

“What happened?” You ask as you try to sit up only for everything to spin, forcing you back down.

“Malfoy decided he wanted to freak Harry out by spooking the unicorn you guys were working with. But then the unicorn kicked you in the side and you fell over and hit your head.” Hermione explains calmly though you see the rage in her eyes.

“How long was I out for?” You ask, still trying to get your bearings.

“Nearly ten minutes,” Sirius says as he and James share a worried look.

“Let’s get you to the hospital wing,” James says picking you up and cradling you in his arms as he and Sirius walk you up to the caste.

When you enter the hospital wing Madame Pomfrey is bustling over and fussing over you. James lays you down on a bed and he and Sirius looked at each other slightly terrified.

“What?” You ask them after pushing Madame Pomfrey away. She huffs but then begins her healing spells. You had a concussion and some broken ribs.

“We need to tell the Minister,” James mutters.

“Why?” You ask annoyed, Tom would just rush out of whatever he was doing to check on you. You didn’t want them to interrupt him.

“Because he insisted upon knowing if anything happened to you. I’ll go.” Sirius concedes rushing to the fireplace before disappearing.

“This is all so unnecessary. I’ve had much worse.” You grumble.

“I know Y/n. We’re just doing our jobs. Also maybe don’t let Tom know about the ‘worse’, it’ll just aggravate him more.” James advises and you nod before you hear a pop and look over to see Tom storming towards you. Sirius quickly emerges from the fireplace trailing behind him.

“What the bloody hell happened?!” He roared at James and Sirius after taking in your state.

“Tom I’m fine,” you say. When he shoots you a glare you continue, “Really, I’m fine. It’s not that big of a deal. I don’t even know why they called you.”

“James, Sirius, you can go. I’m taking Y/n home. Tell Percy to cancel all my appointments for the rest of the day.” Tom growled before scooping you into his arms and disapparating back home.

“Tom,” you huff as you try and struggle out of his arms. He shoots you a harsh glare that makes you cease your movements.

“Let’s get you to bed.” He growled storming up the stairs to your room. He sits you down on the bed before flicking his rest and your school uniform is gone, replaced with another emerald green and black silk nightgown.

“You really didn’t need to leave work you know,” you whisper as he crawls into bed next to you, wrapping his strong, slender arms around you.

“Yes, I did. When are you going to understand, you are the most important thing in the world to me. Nothing matters as much as you. I can’t lose you, it would kill me. When Sirius showed up and told me you had been hurt I died a thousand deaths before I got to you. I love you Y/n.” He replies, tightening his hold on your waist.

“I love you too Tom.” You murmur as your eyes droop.

“Now get some sleep Little Witch. It’s not every day you get kicked by a unicorn.” He tries to laugh it off but there’s an edge to his voice. You know that you haven’t heard the end of this yet.

————————————————————————

Part 7

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barbika1508 · 4 years ago

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Hiwaga (Vampire! Jeongguk x Reader)

Part 4

Words: 9,6k

Genre: Soulmate AU, Reincarnation AU, Enemies to Lovers, Action, Romance, Smut

Pairing: Vampire! Jeongguk x Reader

Warnings: Sexy times – Biting kink, Handjob, Creampie, Cowgirl, Missionary

Summary: Life was good, playing out better than it has been ever before. My future was bright and full of promises and wishes coming to realization. All up until she showed up. She stormed though the front doors ruining everything along the way by her mere presence derailing my goals and purpose in life. A puny mortal, a child, a complete nuisance, and yet…The key to an unimaginable life, to the truth all along.

Author's note: Hiwaga – mystery; full of wonder Agápi mou /Greek/ - My love Daimones - The word is derived from Proto-Indo-European *daimon "provider, divider (of fortunes or destinies)," from the root *da- "to divide". Daimons were possibly seen as the souls of men of the golden age acting as tutelary deities.

Ta - Daaaaaa 🥳 🎉 🎉 🎉

Jeongguk’s POV:

If looks could kill, Yoongi hyung would definitely be dead by now.

Huh?

Poor hyung. He’s doing his best I mean what else can he do in this case? None of us know.

I recognize that voice. It’s not mine but I easily recognize it. I’m slightly annoyed that it’s filling my own thoughts so wholesomely in the abyss that surrounds me. As if that was some sort of key or password to log in the sudden images that flood my mind catch me completely off guard – a memory begins to play behind my eyelids.

‘’Hi I’m Y/N L/N!’’ the girl introduces herself a tad bit too loud, looking bright eyed with a wide grin, naivety just pungent from the first look of her. Pfff a mouse, she’s a mouse. A cute one, to play with. Those are Jimin’s first thoughts of her. Everyone underestimated the human, thinking lesser of her from the get go.

It’s hard seeing the image shift and see her in a completely new light. If I was conscious, I’d redirect the thoughts elsewhere to the important parts. But for a fact I’m aware that I am stuck in sort of a weird limbo where I have no recollection or control of my body nor mind. It all just seems to be floating around. Maybe I should consider this to be lucky to have been drawn to Jimin hyungs thoughts in the first place.

And yet the image of her before me is foreign. Not realistic. The scene is right out of a movie. A movie I’d prefer she didn’t star in.

Her once beautiful gown has been reduced into scarps the drapery thrown off. There’s a cut running up the fabric of the now skirt up till the belt line that holds the top part together; its not hard to spot the wound a proper gash that’s running from the above of her left knee and runs all the way up over her thigh, disappearing underneath the dress, most likely continuing along to her mid-belly.

Her sword which she labelled a few times to be as her pride and joy still remains in her grasp, pointing finger curled above the hilt properly meaning she’s still in combat mode. It once glinted bronze-gold – but right now the blade has been covered by splatters of dark red across the edges and mid-section, blood dripping from the upper end. Most of the blade’s intricated engraved detailing has been masked by the red liquid that remains dripping to the ground from the tip.

As our gazes raise I can feel and easily understands hyung’s hesitation. I can feel others too, but watch as only Yoongi at the far right of is moving and approaching her.

Her chest is heaving, the only sound louder in the room is her pounding heartbeat. Her expression rivals the scariest pissed of look that Yoongi could offer anyone. She looks absolutely terrifying, and that is saying something as Jimin and any of my brothers rarely feel scared for their lives, or scared in general. It’s not even the expression or stance that she’s making – authors always talk about eyes, right? Even in movies they do closeups of characters.

It’s the same instance here too. Her eyes still glowing molten gold, are fixated onto the pile of ashes in the middle of the room. They seem to portray an array or emotions – rage, terror, but the most particular one which Jimin hyung recognizes all so well is the heart brokenness.

Even though she stands tall and clearly otherworldly from our own kin, some part of her has been shattered. The memory I’m watching is fuzzy, as if I’m watching it over an old tape recorder with bad quality to it. The scene speeds up, and mutes at random. I stare as Yoongi approaches her, her hand shooting to him grabbing him by his neck.

Tears of gold spill down her beautiful pinkish cheeks. Gold. She truly is out of this world, isn’t she?

She doesn’t speak, not really. I can see Yoongi’s mouth opening hand raised towards us the signal simple having everyone stop in their tracks. Her face twists into anger, prompting more tears to spill. But she doesn’t hurt hyung, she lets him go all of the sudden turning again to glare at the spot she did before.

With a heavy heart Jimin’s eyes track down to the ground watching as one tear escapes and drips down from her chin, and falls to the ground splattering. To his and my own surprise the gold withers losing its glint and shine to it as it dispels into thin air.

I can feel how Jimin’s eyebrows furrow, heaviness settling in his chest at seeing the burnt stone ground. Y/N is standing right in the circle of it, as the burnt patterns look like an explosion went off. Cautiously he glances back up at her, watching intently while holding his breath as she falls on her knees, sword chattering loudly to the ground, making me flinch.

Amongst the pile of ashes that have remained, a few partially intact bodies lie here and there. Having a missing limb doesn’t mean death, just an inconvenience. But most of the bodies do have their heads decapacitated, leaving them in the stage in between. Their hearts have been left intact.

Wait…am I…did I get my head cut off too?

Hyungs eyes fall onto the body, which I weirdly recognize as being my own. I can see blood has soaked into the white of the shirt I’m wearing, almost completely changing the colour white into red, with additional spatters here and there.

Delicate hands, dusted in ash and blood pick up my head with such gentleness as if dealing with the thinnest shaped and intricate glass. Sighing in relief I come to a quick realization that my head is still attached to my body. So why am I not moving?

Gaining a feeling of Jimin’s mind, how it’s working I diverted my own eyes up to the human…ah. She isn’t a human, is she? It’s a habit to classify her as one, more than anything else. While hyung preoccupies himself with worrying about me, I take the chance to look at Y/N.

Heavenly is the only word that comes to my mind to describe her. Divine with a touch of sin, brings out a smile to my lips even if imaginative ones. That godly aspect has me imagining with ease a pair of black angel wings that would spring out from her back, looming over us absolutely terrifying in the power they represent but also safety and protection. Even if her tears that start to take a tool on me, tug at the torn-up soul that lingers to me I can’t help but to admire her. And love her.

It sorts of hits me weirdly, the simple word that is love. Another remote feeling and outlandish thought and association to find myself in the clutches of it.

Why is she acting like this? So lifeless so…void?

Through the same eyes the imagine shifts to the what appears to be present time. I frown upon seeing what hyung is seeing. The fact that she is wearing the hoodie I gave her that one time in the library would make my heart soar, it is sparkling a tinge of something – but it’s the sight of her paler skin that makes the bad feeling resurface.

She doesn’t look all that much human anymore. She resembles us in a way excluding her beating heart and breathing which do manage to bring some sort of peace to mind. Unlike to hyung that’s nervous, the pit in his stomach churning painfully. He is a very sympathetic being.

Come on Jeongguk-ah, what’s taking you so long?

I’m surprised that he’s addressing me. For a moment I freeze in thoughts eagerly listening to the quiet voices that ring out as he talks to himself while his eyes lower to my lifeless body that’s been placed on a mattress that has been laid on the ground. Wait I recognize this place. It’s the library, same place where I’ve first seen how vulnerable she was from waking her up.

It’s where she unknowingly dropped the biggest hint with her connection to me. She called me ‘my love’ in Korean and that even though sparked something subconsciously in me, went straight over my head at the time. Right now, I only half understand the heaviness she was carrying all this time. The weight of the world placed upon her shoulders – something I think she told me, not in this lifetime. I can’t be sure. My mind in regards of my own memories remain hazy.

Except for this place that we are in.

‘’You should eat.’’ Jimin says gently keeping his voice silent and gentle, pouting as he stares at her. Only now as he shifts his hand, I can feel that he’s holding something, a sandwich on a plate. She doesn’t move an inch, simply breathing and blinking as she stares down at my seemingly sleeping form.

They’ve changed me into, a pair of black sweats and a simple oversized long-sleeved shirt. For some reason my body is covered by a blanket which I know for sure is her gesture. Even my head is propped up by pillows. I won’t even bother going into the details of how weird and terrifying it feels to see myself like that.

‘’Not hungry.’’ A reply comes surprising me with the lack of scratchiness to it. The cold emotionless tone has me frowning and sort of taking a step back in a sense. This isn’t her. She’s…she’s not…

‘’Y/N-nim…’’ Jimin starts the change in addressing her clear, but her piercing eyes that shift to meet his own cause him to take a step back, literally. The gold hasn’t left her irises, circulating around lingering, and threatening.

They don’t speak, they don’t need to as the message lays heavily in between them. Faintly we pick up on talking coming from somewhere in the too silent house.

Staring at Y/N she averts her eyes from the orange haired man. Looking back lost and absent she takes a hold of my still hand with the utmost care and tenderness. While hyung takes a step back towards the edge of the balcony, closer to the stairs my eyes zero in on the wound that’s newly adoring Y/N hand, glaring angrily red and pink at me. There are golden specks along the cut that stretches from her pinkie finger diagonally to her wrist.

‘’Go.’’ She says emotionless. Hyung doesn’t say anything, keeping his eyes fixated on her, watching as she caresses my hand absent minded, her focus completely on me, while a storm continues to rage inside her. She’s in that similar or very same state after I woke her up from that nightmare. The exception is that that one was mild compared to the tornadoes and hurricanes that must be raging in her.

Silently Jimin places the plate as close as he dares to, on a pair of forgotten books that are sturdily stacked. He bows his head down in respect and also a tinge of fear and silently makes his way downstairs, not sparing her or myself a glance.

Jeongguk-ah wherever you are, you better hurry up. Y/N is hurting bad, and I don’t think she’ll survive for long if you don’t get up. Get up Jeonggukie. We need you. Y/N needs you.

I can feel a faint but unmoving hold on my right hand the warmth contrasted to my own coolness. Its surprisingly silent all around me, no thoughts no talking breaking the serenity. The steady heart beat is like a lullaby to my ears, breathing a reassurance. Having been submerged into the darkness for gods know how long, I eagerly open my eyes, my muscles automatically tense up on their own accord as instincts take over my mind and body for a split of a second. But nothing goes out of place as I remain still, only letting my eyelids flutter open.

My gaze falls oddly enough to the sandwich that’s was left behind. The bread has been covered by mold that’s been growing since it was left there. Jimin. Quickly noting the blanket covering me, I glance upwards caught off guard at the even inhales and exhales, noticing her wild hair at first as it falls down over her features masking them.

Blinking a few times, I stare at her closed eyes. Sitting with her legs crossed, her left arm is outstretched, holding my own over her bent knee. Her right arm has been bent and is settle over her other knee forearm risen up hand propping her fallen head to the side, posture hunched as she sleeps serenely.

Not daring to move an inch I remain completely still, making sure I don’t automatically intake air. Her hair has grown. The front that’s cascading down her face moves gently with every exhale she makes. In between the strands, a blush stretches over her supple cheeks. Her eyebrows are casted downwards, lips pouting as the small frown graces her sleeping figure.

I want to reach up and cup her cheek, caress the uneasiness away chase it completely out of her life. Is she having another nightmare?! Is she reliving what had happened? This is one of the times that I desperately wish of knowing why I cannot read her mind – and of course one of the times that I desperately wish that I could read it like I can others.

As if she senses my thoughts, like those few times before her eyes snap open. Gone is the tint of gold and divinity as we stare at one another for a moment like mere mortals. Her breathing comes to a stop, heart picking up speed steadily like a racing steed. Even air itself comes at a standstill nothing changing except our eyes shifting taking each other in, in a difference sense of trying to engrave each other’s features as lovers do. It’s her hand that tightens in my own that sparks the world to start spinning again.

She’s instantaneously moves forward smoothly like a feline, knees gently hitting the mattress besides my ribs while she raises up and above me, her hair fanning around my face her own finally revealed to me. With my right hand I eagerly reach up, fingers gently touching her soft strands pushing them away a moment after, tucking them behind her ear as I admire the still left imperfections on her features. Human or not she’s still the most gorgeous being I have ever met in my entire life.

Her hand fits perfectly as it cups my cheek, the closeness has me overwhelmed and closing my eyes for a moment as I gulp down a lump in my throat trying to regain my chaotic mind and emotions that are raging. She shifts next to me, her breath fanning over my face her sweet scent filling my nose with sweetness brining a smile to my lips.

Reopening my eyes, I urge her with my hand to get closer, her legs falling in place on each side of my waist once she climbs over me. Her left-hand hasn’t let go of my own still holding onto it tightly, while with her right she’s touching me all over almost greedily. With fascination I watch as the gold reappears, the glow and an aura of power entering her system in a manner of speaking.

It’s still hard to wrap it around my brain, that she’s something more than human.

‘’Agápi mou.’’ I find myself saying her eyes shifting from my lips to meet my own. The imagine of wings return to my head this time seeing them right before me. Sunlight is pouring from the windows from underneath the what are supposed to be blackout curtains – a mistake has been made because the curtains are simply too short to cover the windows completely up.

They are letting enough sunlight in to enable my imagination to run even more wild as I picture a halo resting above her head, glimmering like a crown. The image of wings, gold this time around, represent security. Safe heaven. Knowing what she is, the word on the tip of my tongue tastes foresight even if I don’t speak it. She is something far from an angel.

‘’Do you remember?’’ her voice rivals any of my kin’s - my own included. Smooth like satin, filled with more confidently unlike before. She sounds enchanting like a siren.

I bring her hand up to rest over my chest where my un-beating heart lays, and fulfil my wish from before first by cupping her cheek, letting her accommodate herself by resting her weight on my chest more. Offering a small smile, I shake my head ‘’I don’t think it works like in the movies.’’

A breathy half chuckle leaves past her lips, as she tilts her head eyes still unmoving from my own ‘’I wasn’t implying it like that.’’ She muses, left hand playfully taping my nose before pulling it back ‘’The first time you remembered everything. Just making sure not to overwhelm you.’’

She’s hesitant waiting for my reaction as indeed a million questions flood my mind. But the melancholy that seems to be deeply rooted in her, has me easily pushing back down my own vivid curiosity in favour of focusing on her at the present ‘’I can connect bits and pieces but not much.’’ I admit to which she nods in understanding, taking my hand away from her cheek. To my delight she presses a kiss to the top of my knuckles, intertwining our fingers together with familiarity. My gaze remains on her hand noticing now up close the newly forming scar over her hand, running my thumb gently over it.

‘’It doesn’t hurt if that’s what you are wondering.’’ She murmurs tightening her hold in reassurance. Of course she knows where my mind was going, the churning in my tummy now spinning in worry, as not thinking it thought I pull my right hand back, and reach for her thigh, running my fingers gently over. I cannot see the scar as she’s wearing pants but I know it’s there and it must have definitely hurt ‘’You’re worrying for nothing jagi.’’ I feel as if my eyes sparkle just from the nickname, she uses to address me.

I watch with parted lips as she gently pushes my hands away, and starts shifting backwards. I raise up wanting to follow her, ready to bolt if I need to but she simply sits down and makes quick work of tugging her pants off. That leaves her in a pair of white lace panties, the sight of her underwear and her wearing my hoodie…

Like many times before I’ve said this; if I were still a human, I’d be blushing all over. Same goes for the twitching that happens in my lower regions, a tingle ringing up my spine from the mere sigh alone. She chuckles at my probably startled expression cooing loudly ‘’I’m not going anywhere Koo.’’ the nickname is ridiculous bringing another wave of unfamiliar shyness to wash over me.

She takes my hands into hers that I’ve braced against the mattress and brings them upwards body moving along climbing back onto my lap again, clearly not minding that she’s showing her skin to me so freely ‘’See?’’ she points out, guiding my tattooed hand along her thigh, tugging the hoodie upwards enough for me to really see the fading red that’s still tinting her skin ‘’Nothing bad.’’

But the slash the – the wound is way too long and I know it was way to widely opened her muscle damaged to a degree ‘’This is my fault.’’ I start ready to submerge myself into an endless pool of shame and regret and guilt. She’s two steps ahead of me thought – ducking down she captures my eyes, as well as my lips as in what feels like a flash. The kiss is sort of clumsy as I don’t even seem to register it in the beginning. Only after does it turn greedy teeth clashing against one another, as my chest grumbles with a growl at the extremely familiar feeling of having her in my arms like this, and her lips crashing with my own.

Warmth encloses my whole being as she forces me to straighten up, hovering above me inches away upon breaking the kiss. Slightly breathless she stares at me with hooded eyes, hands not inching away, as my own aren’t having found their home on her hips, taking her while at the same time being conscious of not causing her any more pain.

‘’It wasn’t your fault.’’ She starts my mood dwindling. Her grip is firm not letting me turn away ‘’Do you…’’ her change in tone rises curiosity, hesitance so unlike her that it has my heart weighting down ‘’…do you…’’ she sits back down again, getting eyelevel with me vulnerability just oozing from her. Besides the simmering gold in her irises she looks so human all of the sudden. She looks like the Y/N that I know. The one that at first agitated me to no end, her over the top behaviour making me want to tear my hair out at first. The Y/N that didn’t care in particular if her makeup was done perfectly, her concern laying in her sword more than on herself. The Y/N that softened my heart, sneaking her way inside it making me favour her flaws, her childlike behaviour as well as her strength, her courage and to a degree reckless boldness.

‘’You know I used to hate you. Genuinely I despised everything about you.’’ I take the lead hearing how her heart picks up, and can see how her eyes seem to glow brighter at my words ‘’Everything about you frustrated me to no ends.’’ I end up groaning tiredly her reaction being a chuckle as she stares at me incredulously almost offended. I don’t miss the vulnerability and hurt my words bring ‘’But…you know I’ve fallen in love with you. You must know that.’’

I wrap my arms around her waist making sure she isn’t going to slip through my fingers. She firmly shakes her head, hands pushing at my chest ‘’You’ve said it yourself that you hated me. That wasn’t you getting influenced by your past selves. Those are your genuine feelings. The moment you started to like me is when…’’

This time I lean in to kiss her, wanting to shut her up and stop her from falling into her own abys of pity and hurt ‘’Don’t.’’ I warn in between kissing her ‘’I’m in love with you.’’ I state firmly, holding her close seeing red in her eyes, the reflection coming from my own.

‘’Don’t…’’ She breathes starting to squirm looking away ‘’Don’t give me hope…’’ the whisper is barely audible but I hear it. She’s shaking her head as if she’s trying to deny my words, trying to convince herself that this isn’t real.

‘’L/N Y/N-ah.’’ I call her name her eyes automatically landing on me ‘’I Jeon Jeongguk am in love with you.’’ I state firmly ‘’Past lives or not, this is me admitting my true feelings to you! This is me telling you that I am in love with you. I fell in love with you!’’ her eyes are brimming with tears as she blinks and lets out a sob, shaky hand coming up to cover half of her face weakly ‘’I love you, Y/N-ah you pesky human. Yah!’’ I half shout in anger and perplexity as I end up smiling bringing her shaking form close into my embrace ‘’Don’t be so stubborn.’’ I whisper running my right hand up and down her back feeling how her heart thuds against her chest. Being so close I can only imagine that my own would be doing the same.

She lets out a shuddering breath, head shifting as she buries her face into the side of my neck making me almost hiss instincts brief to almost take over my actions. The proximity is unfamiliar, as baring our neck to anyone is considered intimate. (Yes, it doesn’t only extend to werewolves, vampires can have this dynamic too without the alpha beta and omega dynamics)

‘’I’m in love with you.’’ I repeat myself and am willing to do so for the rest of my life if needed. It does dawn on me to ask what…what exactly happened to my past selves. Was I of supernatural kin before? Or have my decision lead to a shift in the universe? Damn. It dawns on me how selfish I’m being, and full of myself by thinking that the universe cares about me whatsoever in the first place. I am but a dust speckle in the wind.

But the question does linger in the back of my mind – will I be allowed to stay with her this time? Given she’s been through this. Will this time be different?

Content to just hold her in my arms, feeling her hands resting between us one over my heart still I start to caress her back, following the curve of her body knowing that with the friction – gentle and slow – I’m keeping her warmed up against me. Although come to think of it she never had any particular problems with touching any of us.

My body tenses up, eyes shooting wide open as I feel the press of her lips against my neck, near my jugular vein. Breath hitching involuntarily, she continues on, soft lips leaving behind pecks and tingles in her wake. It’s easy to relax and as cheesy as it is, yes, it because it’s her.

She grows bold, right hand dipping under my arm, behind my torso fingers spreading over my back holding me close whilst her left hand, rests in between us only the pads of her fingers touching and resting just under my bellybutton. As her hands come to a still her mouth changes tactics teeth now and then nipping at my skin, the feeling making me feel high at the implication of her leaving her mark behind. Even if regretfully they will disappear quicker than I’d like.

A moan makes its way past her lips, hips simultaneously twitching forward. Loosening my hold around her I drop my hands to rest over her tights, looking down in between us as she shifts forward eagerly, bringing her core closer to my growing erection ‘’Jeongguk-ah…’’ she breathes sensually into my ear, probably already feeling me growing against her exposed thigh. Her tongue has me shuddering, as it runs over the outer part of my earlobe which she proceeds to gently bite at, the action new but exciting.

I moan shamelessly as her bites turn harsher. This new kink; I think I’m discovering it just now – and the fact that she’s the cause of it is all the more exiting. Before I start panting, she puts momentary distance in between us forcing me to open my eyes. She’s already staring at me with a dreamy expression, hands still roaming over my chest. They slide over my shoulders slipping behind me, fingers gripping the hair at the back of the head tightly.

I can see the hunger pooling in her orbs the want and greed presenting themselves. Pushing my emotions to the side not wanting to get overwhelmed I bet I’m portraying the same emotions. I feel as if I’m going to die if I’m not close enough to her.

Mimicking her hold on my hair I cup the back of her head, and force our mouths together, teeth clashing and tongues battling bring a smile to my lips. She doesn’t relent from the challenge and neither do I, my intention on wining overtaking my driver easily. She can’t be good at everything.

I growl in delight as she starts to relent and ends up whining needy-ly, following my lead as I circle my tongue against her own. Triumph enters my system making me feel normal again, but at the same time sort of elevated. I’m not the same man as I was before waking from this unconsciousness I’ve been forcefully put into – and yet I’m still me.

Sneaking my right hand around her body I greedily take a hold of her firm yet soft ass, squeezing her ass cheeks in delight. Chuckles arise from her chest, as she twitches breaking away eyes remaining closed as her body for a moment shudders in my hold. Smirking at the mere sigh before me I guide her hips starting up a rhythm for her to keep at, grinding her pelvis against my own.

I can fucking feel her heat so close, and can smell the tanginess that reaches my nose. Ducking my head down in between us, I take in as much of the scent as I can feeling almost light headed. My mouth waters as I take a look at her unmarked neck.

A growl arises like thunder from the depts of my chest the material that holds barely any of my scent on her is offending me ‘’Off.’’

I watch as she leans back, hips settling to a still in such a way that her core is above my own hardening cock. I want to burry myself so badly into her - I bet every inch of her is perfect. Made just for me.

‘’Impatient there, ah Jeonggukie?’’ she muses but grabs the ends of the hoodie and tugs it up over her head in one smooth movement. I growl louder at the next layer of clothing which I’m ready to tear of her body my patience indeed sizzling into nothingness. The fact that the white shirt she has on is also one of my own, my scent being more prominent. The possessive side of me is screaming ‘Mine’ in my head and is practically howling with delight. I start sniffing promptly taking in the combined smell we’ve both created.

A litany of sweetness my first thoughts are of milk, honey and that all familiar strawberry scent come to my mind. The tanginess comes from me the heady smell of vanilla and blooming gardenia tangling itself softly around.

‘’Because of you? Always absolutely famished.’’ I growl sparing her a look, as she pulls the shirt off which leaves her pleasantly bare to my eyes, and for my hands and mouth to explore. My hands are quick to move, gentler than I’ve ever been before with anyone, to take her in, fingers roaming over the many scars that litter her warm skin. Some raise hesitation as I trace them longer taking my time, the one on her hip a ghostly reminder of something that I can’t put my finger one, and another one that is near her left collarbone has me looking up into her eyes that are watching me with curiosity as she holds herself back, clearly letting me take her in.

She doesn’t say anything even as our eyes lock together. My usual frustration and admittedly fear when it comes to her for the first time, I don’t get that urge that, that need and want to read her mind. Because I understand perfectly, what’s she’s thinking about my hands pulling away starting to tug my own shirt off. It leaves me equally bare as she is.

As I fumble with the fabric getting the sleeves stuck around my hands, her own are quick to touch and brush near my lower regions more, leaving me breathless the sensation otherworldly almost. I free my left hand from the wretched fabric that I’m not tearing apart just because I somehow know that she’s going to fuss about it after.

Glancing down, I watch how her hands trace the outlines of the low riding sweats. I bet goose bumps would be running all over my skin if I was more warm blooded. As my chest stills, her fingers remain rising, spreading and coming together as she takes in my abs. Getting rid of the shirt finally, I prop myself backwards onto my left arm whilst my right falls to her knee where I start to run my thumb in circles over it while watching in amusement as a deep flush tints her cheeks, and upper chest gaze hungry.

A hiss rises chest inflating as her hands reach my perk nipples. She isn’t surprised in the slightest as she gingerly starts to play with them – the tingle in my spine rouses my cock twitching specially when I see how she licks her lower lip her pupils dilating further eyes greedily taking me in – her hips move on their own accord, moving with ease and purpose.

Growing restless, at the proximity but the still held distance I straighten forward forcing her to a stop. Pushing the hair away from her left shoulder I eagerly dive in, going straight to biting her skin with blunt teeth making sure to mark her up while keeping my fangs away and hunger for blood at bay. I’m not even all that hungry to be honest – I feel fed. I’m hungry for something else.

Mewls fill the air, breathy moans indicating my actions are overtaking her senses. Her hands remain pressed over my pecks, fingers moving once or twice, but the more I bite and lick and kiss the more her heady scent fills my nose.

Moving to her collarbones, I rest my own hands over her supple breasts eager to feel them. It’s just as I remember them in a strange sense. They fit in my palms to a T. At this point she gives up on teasing me further, dropping her hand down completely. Not stopping I eagerly take one nipple into my mouth sucking in delight, focusing extra hard not to bite once her fingers make way past the elastic band of my pants.

At this point as wet as she feels and smells, I’ve ruined the undergarment equally if not more with precum, my cock fully hard and starting to get painful with negligence.

Licking a bold stripe over her pebbled soft nipple I move to the next one making sure to pinch the one I was just suckling on. She keeps on making these delicious and cutesy but so fucking arousing noises, even as her fingers brush against my base her actions growing bolder. But due to the awkward angle she doesn’t do as much as I think she intended to, her hand getting stuck halfway her knuckles still sticking out the elastic tight against her hand.

Her moans, and squeaks are quick to turn into whines as I mark the top of her breasts for good measure. But I do understand her whines fluently in a sense with regret putting my selfish needs and wants to the side as I raise upwards cupping her cheek, and reach for her writs to stop her squirming hand and fingers.

‘’Fuck baby, you’re so good to me.’’ I curse watching how her expression falls eyebrows furrowing desperation finally making its way to the front, her body fidgeting ready for more.

She immediately nods at my words guiding my hand over to her core. I groan at the wetness that’s seeping from her panties completely ruining them as well as the fabric of my own sweats that actually are drenched in her juices and my own precum.

‘’I want you…’’ she whines ‘’Want you so bad.’’ Her eyes gloss over as she tries to demonstrate her need, by rising onto her knees and turns my hand around so that my bent fingers can brush against her clit once she thrusts her hips. She lets out this delirious sounding whine, eyes shutting for a moment.

‘’You have me baby.’’ I mumble in return fingers working over the damp piece of cloth grazing over her aching nub, her hips twitching in half thrusts ‘’Hmmm…’’ groaning into the kiss she bites onto my lower lip, her speed starting to increase.

‘’Mine.’’ Her words send a spike of arousal all over me, signals ringing out in my brain and heart too because, she sounds so fucking possessive and determined. Her grip on the back of my hair tightens almost to a painful degree – but it hurts oh so fucking good.

I pant at the display of dominance simply staring at her unblinking in a trance ‘’Yours.’’ I breathe out accepting her lips, giving her the lead at first to do whatever she likes. One of her hands returns to my nipple pinching it harder than I’ve done to her while her other hand remains tugging at my hair – she knows my body so well, that this should be scary and terrifying and yet I’m blinded and high on the reassurance she gives off.

Once she runs breathless, I have to put distance between us ignoring her own human sounding growl that brings a grin to my lips ‘’Cute.’’ I mumble, letting her rest her forehead against my own.

‘’Jeongguk-ah…’’ staring up at her she looks out of it for a moment, emotions seemingly catching up to her ‘’I need you in me. Now.’’ She grinds through her teeth instead gold bleeding into her irises. The reflection of my eyes didn’t disappear this whole time, but it gets more prominent I notice when she lets go of her own control it seems – the redness of my own eyes contrasts hers harmoniously.

‘’I need to taste you first…’’ a plan forms quickly in my mind, hands hocking into her white panties. With a tug the stiches tear apart seamlessly, the fabric quick to give in and fall apart. Her lips are bruised, but are unrelentingly back on mine. They are more controlled, giving me full reign as I guide her and making sure to kiss her more sloppily.

‘’Next time…ne…’’ she gasps in between lips not leaving my own, while her hands grab the edges of my sweats. Her first attempt would in normal circumstances have me smiling, and teasing her relentlessly as she does absolutely nothing, maybe even tugging them higher up. But the mood for teasing is over, my intention on helping her full hearted. But the noise of fabric being pulled apart stops me in my tracks and stare in disbelief as she ruins the sweatpants and boxers I’m wearing. Or well I was wearing.

Not even following along because she’s quick, quicker than a regular human, she raises she raises the fabric up enough to be able to throw away the scraps and leave me as bare to the world as she is. Within the blink of an eye she’s rightly wound around me once more, the growl that raises past her lips sounds deeper and animalistic.

‘’Fuck.’’ She curses her hand taking a hold of my cock that had spring up over my belly, precum smearing against my stomach ‘’How are you so fucking gorgeous. Even your dick is…’’ she whines desperately. I gape like a fish staring as her hand reaches for her own exposed cunt, running her fingers together under herself. The slick glints if that makes any sense, and I watch speechless as her hand wraps itself around my length.

My body goes stiff briefly the initial contact, the warmth, the immediately ideal pressure have me all losing my godsdamn mind for a moment. Can we even blank out? Is that I thing? Because once I open my eyes, I think I just did that. Lost contact with reality.

I stare - probably looking like a blabbering idiot - as she rises onto her knees hand still running up and down my length the sight before me magnificent. As if she hears me and there is a possibility that I said that out loud judging by the smirk on her face, her hand comes to a stop. Golden eyes met my own once more as she inches closer with her body, fingers guiding the top of my dick against her folds, up and down. Simultaneously moans draw themselves from our chests the sensation electrifying, making every hair on my body stand up, as well as tingles to run over my skin. Her own mouth opens in a silent ‘0’ the flush on her cheeks darkening.

And then she stops all together, gaze unmoving and unfaltering, breathing slowing down, eyes portraying nothing else but admiration and love – which is baffling me. This feels like a dream a fantasy. It feels unrealistic and like a figment of my imagination. If it is true about any of that – I never want to wake up from this.

Her plump lips part wider no sound leaving them, as the pressure on the head of my cock makes itself present as she starts to lower herself down. Gasping for not needed air, my eyes want to roll to the back of my head but I keep my focus trained on her and at the way her eyes seem to glow brighter. She’s taking her time lowering herself down inch by inch leaving my mind blank as I feel her and nothing else. I can feel her tightness enveloping all around me, the warmth the wetness making me sincerely start to lose my sanity. Hissing, I grind my teeth together as my balls start to pull back out of shook in a sense. She’s only half way down – so I grab for her hips harshly forcing her to slow her descent for her sake. Looking up she’s at her ends rope to it seems like.

Breathing out harshly through her nose I lead her the rest of the way, letting her sit down and adjust herself. It’s not only for her benefit but my own – she’s divine, absolutely divine.

So, blazing hot, so warm, so wet so fucking perfect – I can’t even think straight.

‘’Ah jagiya…’’ she breathes slumping against me, hands wrapped around my shoulders. I smile once more to the modern nickname knowing deep down that her nicknames for me have varied greatly. And to have my own kind in the present is heart-warming.

‘’I love you.’’ I whisper realization of my feelings having hit me at full force that faithful night. Her eyes widen despite my confession earlier. There’s still doubt and hesitation in her ‘’I love you with my whole heart, my being and with whatever is left of my soul.’’

The glossiness reappears her reaction not exactly what I wanted. But she cuts off any of my ideas and reactions as she raises up and kisses me to stop me most likely from reacting. She whines into the kiss high pitched, hips falling back down. To my surprise she’s quick to pick up a pace, and rhythm steadily riding me walls now and then clamming around me.

Remaining speechless at her actions I start to mimic her breathing pattern somewhere along the way, admiring her features how they twist and change head at first raising up then falling forward sweet breath fanning over my face as she concentrates. Her heart is battering against her chest full of life ringing out a melody in my mind, the indication making me feel as if I’m alive too.

Whilst my body remains completely functioning, receiving all the onslaughts of pleasure my brain reaches that hazy-like state of weightlessness, balls tightening as my spine tingles, my nerves starting to sing unanimously. I’m so close so fucking close, the words on the tip of my tongue to warn her, when she suddenly comes to a full stop, everything feeling so overwhelming all of the sudden as she clenches impossibly tight around me, edging me on making it almost impossible to hold back – but somehow I do, noticing the strain from her body still having a hold of her.

Opening my eyes her ass rests against my thighs, cock still sheathed in her. I notice with new found thirst that she’s covered in her own juices, lower lips parted and looking delicious whilst my cock stretches her out rightfully so. She’s breathing hard, heart still hammering in her chest which is quickly rising and falling. As she gathers herself, her upper body is leaning backwards, head thrown back which leaves her neck fully exposed to me. I admire the unmarked column of her neck on her right side which is just calling out to me.

‘’You okay, human?’’ I speak up musing letting my fangs out, my control gradually slipping even at a standstill. She completely has me enamoured and entranced.

She nods curtly eyes still closed but she does let her head fall forward hands shifting from my knees to my thighs while her body remains half resting and half folded before me, pussy clenching at certain movements.

‘’Never been…better…’’ she breathes and reopens her eyes. Her skin is covered in a fine layer of sweat, hair pushed back messily making it seem as if she has a mane, while her body switches between relaxed to tense, muscles getting tired due to her position ‘’Guk-ah…’’ I snort at the shortening of my name, and straighten up cooing at her brief hiss of protests as I shift us. Grabbing her firmer by her hips, I hold her close groaning as I shift inside her whilst moving rolling us to the side, making sure not to dislodge her to much. Her head comfily rests on the edge as I raise onto my knees, switching my hold to under her thighs to keep us connected and close.

‘’Y/N-ah…’’ I breathe out ignoring the shiver that runs up my back, making me want to just take her as she is ‘’You feel so good…’’ I lean forward watching as she looks at me through half-lidded eyes, the whining returning, her hands eager to bring me closer. For the first time tonight the kiss that befalls between us changes into a gentle and serene one. Readjusting my hold on her once more so that it remains secure and gentle, I pull my hips back, and thrust back inside trying out the waters so to speak.

She moans straight into my mouth, letting me run my tongue over her lower lip before giving her a peck and focus on her needs. I prop an arm next to her head to hold myself up effortlessly as no strain is being put on me as it would to a human. I stare down watching my cock pull out and slide back into her, the wet noises probably the cause of the extra pink tint of her cheeks. I’m more shallow than that finding it incredibly hot the sight and the sound. I still want to taste her. And next time I will make sure to take my sweet time, if she likes it or not.

Having lowered myself down I gladly take her perked up nipple into my mouth, teasing it between my fangs, her body wanting to curl in on itself, but I keep her in place keeping up a relatively slow rhythm, that is enjoyable but not nearly enough to do anything more. The slow burn as fun as it can be – right now it’s maddening. But her pleasure comes first.

‘’Jeon-ghhhhhhh…’’ she ends up groaning suddenly sounding frustrated angry almost, my chuckles not helping as I let go of her breast with a pop and raise forward to look at her smirking cockily.

‘’Are you not enjoying yourself, jagiya?’’ I test out the new nickname feeling as if flowers start to bloom on my tattered soul feeling fulfilled for the first time in my human and vampire life. And its her being connected in such way. Emotionally and physically. We are one.

‘’I would appreciate if…’’ she whines loudly as I lick up her skin on the unmarked side of her neck, letting a fang briefly graze the column of her neck ‘’…fuck.’’ She curses walls tightening, pulling away my cocky attitude as my own orgasm is crawling up on me. That’s not even the issue, as sensitivity is start to kill me. The balance between not enough and too much, shifty almost painfully ‘’Just fuck me! I’m not made of glass; you won’t break me you silly vampire.’’ He frustration has me chuckling brokenly as this time she intentionally tightens her heat making my eyes roll.

I grind my teeth together at first, gathering the small bit of sanity that I’m left with trying not to cum, as she has almost pushed me over the edge with this little stunt. It’s not that I don’t have stamina I’ve got plenty of it, my vampire genes giving a helping hand with this – it’s all on her. The new sensations, the thoughts flooding my mind, the what feels like newfound spirituality that resides above or around me.

‘’You can do better than that Y/N-ah.’’ I grumble amusedly, kissing up her jaw as she squirms in my hold, hips trying to move on their own. Readjusting my stance by spreading my legs further apart I steady her lower body, reaching a new angle that has her lips trembling her white cut short.

‘’Agápi mou.’’ She whispers looking sort of lost as I lean over to look at her, eyes aflame. Not human anymore indeed, she is something far from it. Pressing a soft almost shy kiss to her lips I brace her under her ass, straightening up and pull almost all the way out before slamming myself in.

A scream tares its way from her lungs, switching into a delirious sounding cry as I repeat the motion. Again, and again, and again. I can’t do nothing else but to pant at first, sort of catching my breath unnecessarily, as she wiggles into the mattress not knowing exactly if she wants to get closer or away from me. Her arms twists into the sheet, surprisingly not ruining them yet as she lets those beautiful sounds to surface, clearly not holding back.

The tingles only intensify across my whole body, the snapping of skin against skin pushing me onwards, her juices dripping down the inside of my right thigh. Its fucking delicious how filthy this is. My muscles gradually tense up, her name leaving the tip of my tongue in a chant, as everything about her overwhelms me, makes me buzz with life, makes my head wander into the depts of passion-fuelled hurricanes that grow in power and pleasure.

The spasm of her pussy are tight, alluring and cruel her own thighs starting to shake, body once more twisting, hands ruining the fabric underneath as she calls out my name ‘’I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m…’’ her breath gets cut short as she convulses from pleasure and what looks like pure bliss judging by her far gone expression eyes closing after.

I didn’t even have to touch her, to bring her to completion my touches before and my cock enough to have her sent over the edge. It feels right feels fitting, it gives me strength gives me the satisfaction and again triumph as before, which all spurs me on to reach my high, a few moments later with a growl of half of her name, leaving my lips.

Everything makes complete sense for a split second. Despite my eyes having shut tightly, I feel as if I can see things clearly for the very first time in my life. The emotions that hit me would have any being fall to their knees, the ones with beating hearts reaching close to something akin to a heart attack. But its bliss, its utter bliss that takes control of every part of my mind and body.

Getting back the feeling of myself the intensity starting to die down as quickly as it rose, I sort of almost crash onto her catching myself on an elbow next to her, my other hand still remains holding onto her thigh making sure she’s pressed against me, as my balls empty cum still filling her up. For a moment, I let myself enjoy the way she clenches and unclenches around me body still riddled with twitches. Wanting to get her more comfortable I roll us once again, so that she can lie on to of me securely. Surprisingly she moans but doesn’t protest, eager to drop her head over my chest, while her hands faintly grip onto my biceps. She remains breathing shallowly, heart still ongoing strongly, thudding against my own chest thanks to our proximity.

But the feel of her around me, and mere thought of us being one as we are joined together turns slightly sour, as oversensitivity digs its grasps into both of us. Humming in apology at her hisses, I shift her upwards, closer as my softening member twitches in faint interest’s - arousal still pumping through my veins – but ends up limply resting against my thigh. I smile imagining myself blush, as I can feel how my cum drizzles out of her used folds.

Opening my eyes, I spare her a glance looing all blissed out rested completely comfortable on me, finger absentmindedly running up and down my right arm. Raising my head, I glance around taking in our surroundings, finding out that not much changed since the last time I was here. Looking to the side, I grab for two pillows sliding one under my head the other next to meant for her. Dragging the blanket over is more of a struggle, and has her whining in protest at my shifting. But she quiets down once I cover her up mostly, making sure she’s underneath it. I settle my hands over her back to run them up and down, my attempt at warming her up probably not useful. What catches my eye randomly is her sword resting where she was sitting previously. It’s still propped up and has been cleaned obviously. Maybe even sharpened.

Silence settles around us like a sheet being draped around our surroundings. Its pleasant, the way nothing moves making me feel as if time has slowed down just for us. Pulling my eyes away from the notes and scrolls that were taped to the wall before us, I turn to take her in staring at her with sort of old but new eyes feeling completely enamoured with her lines and curves, features simply perfect.

She’s so gorgeous, I don’t understand how I ever found her to be ugly in the first place. The flush and colour of her skin, so lively unlike ours just wants to make me devour and taste every part of her body. Hmm, the paleness from before sort of disappeared that’s not hard to miss despite the flush that’s still obviously lingering.

‘’If you keep staring like that, I’m going to start to think things.’’ She replies words slightly slurred and spoken slower, a sleepy tint to them.

My smile only widens at her mischief poking through ‘’Oh? What kind of things?’’ I watch as her eyes slowly flutter open, finding my own the glow having dimed down her natural eye colour peeking through more so than the golden that only circles around her pupils.

‘’Things like the fact that I love you.’’ My eyes instantly widen as I stare at her, a bit warily watching as she lazily yawns and raises up propping her head on her right arm, her left tapping and running over my collarbones, as she watches me calmly ‘’I’ve been looking for you for a while you know.’’

She’s not saying much as she should be, not revealing something that’s hidden in her words, or behind her eyes, and steady beating heart ‘’So I’ve heard.’’ I reply gently feeling guilt as I remember the Prince’s words wanting to push him and those events away from my mind ‘’Do you regret it?’’ I can’t hold my words back watching her intently. But her face doesn’t switch or indicate anything ‘’Regret finding me like this?’’

She takes a moment to think about my question leaving me thankful for my non beating heart, because that would give my inner turmoil instantly away. She brings her hand upwards, fingers gently brushing strands of my hair away from my eyes and forehead as she hums in question at first ‘’No, never.’’ She sounds very sure her actions ringing genuine ‘’When it comes to you, I never regret anything.’’

‘’Not even my previous actions? Or that I left you even though I promised never to do that?’’

I don’t exactly know where the words come from. They aren’t necessarily my own, neither are the feelings of fear that sort of restrict my throat choking me up as I look at her eyes, her own trailing over my lips fingers gently tracing them. Darting upwards the gold flares for a moment, like living fire spurring from the depts of herself. But they disappear altogether hand coming to a stop as she leans in closer.

‘’I love you.’’ She says merely lips ghosting over my own ‘’Faith or destiny won’t ever keep me away from you for too long. You didn’t break your promise agápi mou.’’ She furrows her eyebrows lips pecking me softly without a rush ‘’I’m never letting go of you. Specially now, Jeongguk-ah. I love you so much.’’

I stare at her feeling for a moment completely helpless – compared to her, her strength her pain I’ve done nothing remotely remarkable in my life, or anything remotely towards her to ease her sorrows or appease her. Her forgiveness does set me at ease temporarily but also with my own promise to the universe.

It’s time to give back and return all the love we’ve missed out. Time to mend her heart, mend the scars that litter her body, mend the memories and replace them with better ones. I’ll gladly devote my life solemnly to her. She already holds my heart.

‘’Love you so much more, Y/N-ah. My divine Daimones.’’

Part 3 / Part 4 (Finale)

#jeon jungkook x reader #bts vampire au #jungkook x reader #jeongguk x reader #bts vampire #yoongi vampire #BTS jungkook #bts jungguk #bts jeon jungkook #bts jeon jeongguk #bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts fluff #bts romance

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mxvladdy · 4 years ago

Text

Dinner for Two

Hello again! Hope y’all are doing just groovy.

Here’s another fic! It can also be found here !

I got some WIPs in the works so it’s back to the coal mines for me.

Chapters: 1-2-3

The world spun again, more forceful than before. Reaching out blindly you grasp for the closest thing to you. This time it was your friend Genji. Cool metal wrapping around your forearm helping you steady yourself as you breathe through the wave of nausea.

“Doctor! Are you alright?” His scarred brows raising in worry looking for a place to let you rest. He leads you slowly to a nearby bench and away from your workstation.

You wave off his concern resting your fevered brow on your knees taking steady gulps of air in hopes to alleviate the sick feeling. “I'm fine. I'm fine. It's just exhaustion, haven't been able to sleep well of late.”

“Hmmm.” He sat nodding knowing the feeling all to well. “Missing your bear?” Genji joked releasing his hold on you to give you some space, his tone still laced with worry.

You chuckle dryly emerging from your ball to lean back, resting on the metal wall behind you. You did miss Jesse. It would have been a down right lie to say otherwise. His warm body encased around you, shaggy chestnut hair fanning out on his pillow. The whiskey smoke smell of him, an oddly comforting scent.

He was halfway through a six month mission with Soldier, Winston, and Angie to America looking into a Talon lead. As an infiltration mission, it requires time to build trust and connections. Meaning it was a pain in the ass for everyone.

I've been missing ya somethin’ fierce doll. Can't stop thinking about ya. Bed’s too cold nowadays. I wish ta god you could have come along. But can't be puttin’ all our medics in the field. His low timbre reverberating through the tinny speaker of your phone. Everytime he called it was a double edge sword, you were overjoyed that he was alive and safe. Yet it made the miles apart feel even longer.

You look up at Genji's patient expression. “I do.” You admit accepting the ninja's help getting up, the sickness passing as quickly as it had come. Genji nodded sagely heading back to your station where you had been working on an upgrade for his respiratory system. Your work was on par with Angie's, making the head medic feel comfortable dividing her workload with you.

“Perhaps you should take a break for the rest of the day? I'm not going anywhere and the upgrade isn't critical yet. Why not join Reinhardt and myself for lunch?” Genji nudged, placing his hand between you and your work. You agreed hoping a break would make you feel better.

It did not. Instead you retired to your quiet room curling around Jesse's pillow and drifted into a dreamless sleep stomach tossing and turning . This was your day to day life for the next three weeks. But it was only getting worse. Nausea, bloating, headaches, and fatigue plagued you as sleep evaded you. You hid; brushing off concern with the same line.

“ It's just stress .” You sigh dismissing Ana's hand on your shoulder but graciously accepting the hot mug of tea. Enjoying her company in the common room after getting fed up with sitting in the spare medical lab all day.“I don't know how Angie does this.” You sigh dramatically.

“I sometimes wonder about the both of you. If I didn't know better I'd say you and Ziegler are secret masochists.” Ana chuckled. You flush, skin darkening as Ana levels you with a knowing smirk. “Ahh~Thought that was more you and Jesse's shtick.”

“What's more my shtick?” A deep southern drawl purrs behind you. A deep purr you thought you still had another two months before you could hear it in person. You didn't get a chance to turn before two strong burly arms wrapped around you. He smelled of sweat and gun oil. The staleness of the airship hung over him telling you more than anything that he just arrived.

Ana rolled her eye at your sequel when he lifted you into his chest spinning you around to capture you in a soul stealing kiss. “I was under the impression I still had another six weeks of peace.” Ana joked, raising to pat his back as he lowered you to the floor. His attention not wavering from you.

“You know me Ma’am, can't be kept away from ya.” Jesse winked his smile damn near blinding. “But the mission went off without a hitch, got all the data we need to put a hurtin’ on the next Talon operation.”

“Good,” Ana nodded curtly, looking at her com. “Ah… Soldier wants us all at the debriefing in five. Best be heading over.”

You both watch her leave arms still wrapped around each other. Jesse breaks first brushing his lips down your throat pulling a giggle from you as his beard hairs tickle you. Your good mood doesn't last long though as your nose seems to really pick up on his scent. The pleasant sweat and gun metal smell from earlier now astringent and overpowering. You gag choking back the bile in your empty stomach.

“Damn,” Jesse pulls back watching you cup your hand over your nose and mouth. “I smell that bad doll?”

“No. Sorry I've just been under alot of stress of late. My body is protesting.” You cough forcing yourself back into his arms.

He coos sympathetically rubbing your back. “M’ sorry sunshine, let me make it up to you tonight huh? Hot bath- a few drinks. Hell I'll even sneak out an’ get us some food from town, your choice. Maybe a movie if I can keep my eyes open long enough. Just gotta get through this damn debrief,” He looks at his com cover your shoulder checking for messages. “which we are ‘bout to be late for so let's get gettin’.”

You arrived only a few seconds late. Reinhardt holding the door for you and Jesse beaming brightly at you both. You took your seat next to Angie and Ana while Jesse sat by Genji and Lucio. Nodding politely at the two women you settle in listening to the monotone drone of Winston's debriefing scrolling through the file in front of you. He took an hour before Soldier started.

“Is it hot in here?” You whisper leaning over to Ana when 76 had his back to them. Ana frowned, shaking her head noting a slight sheen of sweat gracing your dark skin.

“Not really. Do you need to step out? This many bodies in a room could heat it up.”

You shake your head thinking maybe you were just overreacting. Instead you pour yourself a glass of water sipping slowly, losing focus. Ugh, that pesky nausea was back making the room swim. You could feel it at the corners of your vision. Had you eaten today? It wasn't abnormal for you to miss a meal or two. You ate ridiculously late last night, a sudden craving as you watched Hana play video games. So skipping breakfast shouldn't have been that bad an issue. Besides Lena had needed assistance with a nasty sprained ankle.

“You are looking a little under the weather my friend!” You jump glass shaking in your hand. Reinhardt sounded so distant, like though water. How odd…

You try to speak but your tongue seems to be cemented to your mouth. The room's axis tilts dangerously as you try to steady yourself. The swimming wasn't just at the corner of your eyes anymore. A blonde blob took up your vision. The blob speaking softly trying to take you with it.

A bad choice. Your knees buckled the moment you rose, the swimming in your vision turning violent. The water in your ears turned to crashing waves disorienting you as your vision went black.

You woke in darkness a faint light to your side illuminating flat white tiles above you. Your vision was steady but blurry as you took in your surroundings. It was the medical wing. You could tell that much by the stiff mattress and scratchy sheets covering you. A pressure in your arm gives you pause. Shifting in the sheets you touch at it recognizing the tug and pull of an IV drip.

“Ah! You're awake!” Angie chipper voice emerging from thin air to your side. “Gave us a fright back there.”

“What happened?” You asked, rubbing your eyes in exhaustion trying to focus on her uncharacteristically tight smile. She hums bringing up your charts.

“Low blood sugar. Very low blood sugar. Bordering on coma inducing, you banged your head rather hard when you passed out; but it's fine. Everyone is fine.” She friendly tone turning professional and curt, her hands busy adjusting your IV and raising the lights in the room slightly. “Are you too hot? Too cold? What was the last thing you ate? You should have come and told me sooner.”

Angie helps you sit up adjusting the bed and pillows to your comfort. “Angela I'm fine. I have been just so caught up in work, you know I get stress sick sometimes. I'll be more careful.”

Your friend stopped midway into checking your vitals. “Are you- I had thought as much. It's unlike you to be so reckless.” She finishes jotting down a quick note before handing you your medical records.

The words hit you like a ton of bricks. You scroll through blindly feeling ill for a whole new reason. How could you have been so stupid to have not picked up on all the subtle changes. You backtrack the past months counting the days. Your period, while erratic and hard to chart was never this late.

“How…” Your voice cracks lowering the tablet to your knees. Angie waits putting a supportive hand on your leg watching you process. “I'm a fucking doctor, and I miss that I'm pregnant!” Your laugh was empty, on the verge of hysterics. Shaking in a mix of awe and panic you place a hand against your midriff. How could you miss this?

Fat is soft and malleable when you gain it. It grows in multiple areas at once, not collecting in one area growing steadily for so long. Dread fills you. You had been foolish thinking you were eating too much, so you cut back, taking up walking with Mei and hikes with Lucio. You had been starving yourself. Your child.

“Don't,” Angie cut into your downward spiral of guilt. “I'm not the most well versed in this but I did as thorough a check as I could and everything looks fine. You're underweight for the start of your second trimester but other than that you're fine,” She squeezes you leg reassuringly. “ they are fine .”

Falling back on the bed you bury your face in your hands groaning out. “Angie how did I fuck up this bad.”

She chuckled against her better judgement, but knowing you the worst had passed for now. “I can take some of the blame. I did dump a lot on you before I left. I knew I could trust you to stay focused on our work. I guess I underestimated how focus you would get. We are much in the same on that front. Stress does strange things to the body, as we both know. I, if I was in your shoes, would probably write it off as stress too.”

You gripe folding your arms defensively over your belly remembering Ana's comments from early. Jesse. “What do I tell Jesse? Did you say anything to him?” You snap rounding on your friend.

“I have kept everyone out including him till I could assess what was wrong, as per protocol. No matter what that man says otherwise.” Angie frowned looking towards the door. “You haven't been under for more then three hours. But I doubt he has left his vigil at the door. Do you want me to get him?”

You shake your head vigorously wrapping yourself over your stomach defensively. You had never discussed children. Anything really outside of dating. How would he react? What would this mean for you in the newly reformed Overwatch? “I need some time. I have to think this over.”

Angie rose nodding in agreement. “Let me know whatever you decide. I'll be there anyway I can.” She helps you lower the bed and turns off the lights again before leaving. You hear her exit and immediately start talking with someone on the other side of the door.

It was two days before you allowed visitors deciding to spend those days cramming as much knowledge and food into you all while talking things through with Angela. You had decided to tell Jesse and go from there, notifying Winston you could do nothing but wait to see what this meant for you for work and living on base. Angie was adamant she would pressure him to let you stay on as a medic on base until you were ready to take leave. As for housing well; maybe you could find a nice flat off base if it was an issue. You didn't think your shared room with Jesse was large enough for three. If there would be three.

As if beckoned by your thoughts Jesse was there knocking softly on your door not a few minutes after Angie sent out a notice that you would be allowing guests. He flashed you a crooked smile raising a plastic bag with a little smiley face on it. “I promised ya a hot bath and food...bath might be later but I thought maybe you would like some non-Angie approved food.” He fidgeted holding back his want to dash to you, his fears threatening to overflow. Watching you just drop at that meeting almost took him down with you. You looked ill when he greeted you but he didn't think it was that bad. Angie said it was low blood sugar from lack of food and sleep. But he knew better, there was something else on top.

He waited watching you shift the massive amount of blankets around you, burying yourself further in their warmth before smiling shyly. Boots thumping loudly on the floor he approached his grin freer this time pulling up a chair and your floating tray. “Oh. Did ya already eat doll? I can come back later if you want. Ang’ been saying your still feelin’ a little green ‘round the gills.” He frowned, noticing the scraps of foods on your discarded plate. It looked like the remains of something he would eat. Fattening and full of greasy meat, a few half eaten fries were left.

“I could always eat more. That's why I'm in here.” You laugh reaching for the bag while Jesse placed his hat and wrap on a nearby coat rack. You groan loudly pulling out a take out box of sweet and sour chicken, sticky rice and dumplings. Jesse watched shocked as you dove in stuffing a dumpling whole into your mouth only noticing his stares after you crudely stuffed another in your mouth “Wha?”

“Nothin’ sugar. Glad you're eating. Though I didn't think you would take my box. I got you a healthier one… you and Angie always watch what ya eat.” He smiles fishing out the other box. “But I guess we can switch every once and awhile.” He winks toying with you not expecting the look of horror on your face, a stock of broccoli halfway to your lips. “It ain't a big deal! ‘sides you are always on my case about eating better. Eat up! Can't have my sunshine starving. ” He jokes taking a bite out of the baked fish in front of him.

“Ya.” You chuckle nervously lowering your fork. Turning your face from his. You spoke so softly he barely heard it. Your words slipping out like a ghost.

Since I'm eating for two…

It caught him like a sucker punch, the world moving at half it’s normal pace. Surely you didn't mean… “I- I don't think I'm getting the joke doll.” Jesse muttered mind reeling for an explanation for your comment, other than the obvious one. Because that one didn't make sense. Right?

You turn back fist gripping your blankets, knuckling white and hands shaking. “Every symptom has a cause. I fainted and I thought I was suffering from just exhaustion and fatigue. Turns out they were just symptoms too.” Brushing aside the quilts you touch your stomach gently refusing to look at him.

“Are… how long?” Jesse asked voice no louder then your ghost like whispers.

“Angie said four months give or take a few weeks.”

Jesse leaned back quietly. “How long have you known?” Why didn't you trust him to tell this? Had he done something to make you think otherwise? You never brought up children but never talked negatively of it either. His heartbeat ecstatically thoughts flashing a mile a minute.

“When I woke up. I didn't realize until then,” You finally turn trying to fight back the tears of panic threatening to break free. “I swear. I would never have been so foolish if I had known. I would have told you.”

Jesse rose whipping a stray tear from your cheek and wrapping you in a tight hug, shoulders trembling from unshed tears himself. “I know, I trust ya. Jesus baby meeting you was the blessing I never deserved.” He kissed you then, peppering little kisses all over your cheeks, your nose and lips never settling for one place for long.

“You want this? Jesse I won't force this on you.” You ask, starting to realize your fears may be unfounded.

“Whatca’ mean ‘if I want this’? I love ya, every bit I can get! I mean I would have done this a bit different. A cute little house with a cute little dog.” He paused licking his lips debating for a moment before continuing. “The nicest damn ring I can afford… But what's life without a few curves?” He smiles warmly a soft flush gracing his cheeks.

You couldn't help but laugh in shock. The words warming you completely making your heart flutter. It was a sweetness that made you feel good, feel safe when he pulls you in tighter murmuring hopes and promises into your ear. You smile snuggling in close, kissing his cheek and rubbing his broad shoulders wondering why you worried in the first place. This could work. You knew he would try and you wouldn't back down either. You loved him too much to not at least try.

#overwatch #overwatch fanfic #jesse mccree #jesse mccree x reader #fluff #its a baby fic

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unfolded73 · 4 years ago

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Husbands: Two Years In (5/5) - schitt’s creek ff

Here it is, the final chapter! There's nothing I can say that can get across how touched I've been by the comments on this fic. The number of people who have shared things about their own struggles with mental health -- I'm not worthy of it. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

While I'm including this fic as part of the "Labels" series, the preceding fics are not required reading. Previous fics in this series: Boyfriends; “I Love You”, Partners, Fiancés

Warning: This fic deals with depression as one of its major topics.

Rated Explicit, this chapter 4718 words. (ao3)

Thanks to @high-seas-swan for cheerleading and B13_MaybeThisTime for many valuable comments (and also cheerleading).

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 5: Winter

“So how was your week?” Jessica asked.

Patrick always felt like he should plan before therapy what he was going to talk about, but he never remembered to do that.

“It was a little crazy. The holidays at the store always are, although it’s very lucrative. The money we make in December will carry us through at least half of the upcoming year,” he said, pinching the webbing on one hand between his thumb and forefinger of the other.

“And did you feel more equipped to handle that? The busy store, and all your responsibilities around that? Especially with Christmas a few days away?”

Patrick shrugged, feeling obstinate. “I don’t know.”

Jessica let a silence settle, waiting for him to talk. Patrick hated this part; it made him feel like he was failing at therapy when he didn’t know how to fill that silence. What the right answer was. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the sofa cushions, calling her bluff.

Finally, she relented and spoke, and Patrick felt like he’d won a round of whatever game they were playing. “You’ve never said much in here about your sexual orientation other than to talk about your husband and to say that things with your family are good. Was it always that way?”

Patrick tried not to roll his eyes. He knew this would be coming eventually. He’d been avoiding the subject of Rachel or his coming out process because he knew it would be something Jessica would fixate on. “I’m not depressed because of being gay, or… or anything to do with that. I love being gay.”

She smiled genuinely. “I’m glad. But humor me.”

“My parents always accepted me,” he said quickly, but that felt like a lie even though it was technically true.

“How old were you when you came out?” Jessica asked.

Patrick let out a frustrated sigh, seeing no way to avoid the truth now. “I was… I was in denial about being gay for a long time.” Might as well get it all out, he thought. “When I was twenty-nine I broke off an engagement to my high school sweetheart — who was a woman — and moved away from my hometown. Pretty soon after that, I realized I was gay.”

“That must’ve been hard,” Jessica said.

“Yeah, but once I got through it and… and got together with David, I’d never been happier.”

He couldn’t help but see the smile she gave him in response to that as patronizing. “New love can flood the body with so many good chemicals that it swamps out all of the bad ones.”

Patrick narrowed his eyes. “Are you saying I wasn’t happy?”

“No, I’m saying that the way you’ve framed things in some of our past sessions — that you were depressed before you moved here, and then you weren’t, and now for some reason you’re depressed again… that may not be the right way to frame it. Do you think perhaps it puts a lot of pressure on David as the source of your happiness?”

“I don’t put pressure on David,” Patrick protested.

“Is it possible that you put pressure on yourself, then? When it comes to your relationship with David and its importance in your life?” Jessica asked.

Patrick huffed and didn’t answer. Now she was contradicting herself from one sentence to the next.

“When did you come out to your family?” she asked.

“That isn’t why I’m depressed either,” he said.

Jessica sighed like he was finally challenging her constant state of serene acceptance. “Untangling the web of depression isn’t straightforward. It might be helpful to pull on different threads and see what they’re connected to. Okay?”

Patrick supposed that made sense. “Okay.” Then after another pause, he admitted, “It took me a while to come out to my parents.”

“Why is that?”

He stared at Jessica’s bookshelf for several seconds, his eyes running over the titles without reading them. “I worried that my parents wouldn’t be okay with it. They didn’t talk about gay people when I was a kid, really. Or when they did, they made it sound like a sad thing that we needed to tolerate because it wasn’t a choice. You know, that brand of ‘tolerance’ that is just that and nothing more.”

She shot him a sympathetic look. “It’s understandable why you were hesitant to come out to them.”

“But they were great about it. It wasn’t long after coming out to them that I asked David to marry me, and they were great. They love him, and all my worries were unfounded,” he said, trying to figure out why tears were threatening to spill over.

Jessica took a few seconds to rearrange herself, setting her ever-present portfolio aside and leaning forward on with her elbows on her knees. “I understand that, looked at a certain way, you’ve had a purely positive experience with coming into your sexuality. You had David, who from what you’ve said before is a very loving person. And based on what you’ve told me, you live in an accepting community. And then your parents stepped up and were there for you when you asked them to be. That’s all wonderful, and not to be discounted. But it doesn’t change the fact that for all of your formative years, when maybe on some subconscious level you did know that you were gay, or at least different in some fundamental way, you didn’t feel like your parents or the community you were living in would accept you. That kind of experience leaves a mark, even though everything turned out fine.”

She smirked, leaning backwards again. “Or not. Perhaps your serotonin is low due to simple physiology and I’m completely off the mark.”

Patrick felt strangely reassured by this honesty, this admission that she knew that she didn’t know everything. “So I need medication, then?”

“Maybe,” she said. “Medication might help. Or cognitive behavior therapy could help you. Or both together.”

His reassurance quickly dissolved, leaving Patrick wanting to scream at his therapist, fix me, goddammit! Instead he said, “That all sounds very nebulous.”

She grinned. “From what I know about you so far, I bet that’s driving you crazy, and I’m sorry about that. Can you bear with me for a little while, though? Work through the process?”

He sighed. “I’ll try.”

~*~

Patrick drove past the empty storefront on Elmdale’s main street as he was leaving his therapy appointment. He’d noticed every week that the ‘for lease’ sign was still in the window. After the second time he saw it, he’d texted Ray to ask if that was the space he’d mentioned to David. David hadn’t said anything about the second Rose Apothecary location in a while, but it didn’t take a genius to guess that he was still thinking about it, and probably wondering when Patrick would be ready to seriously entertain the idea again.

On impulse, he pulled into one of the parking spaces that lined the street and got out of the car, walking over to the empty storefront. The windows were covered in paper, but he could see enough through the gaps to make out that it had a scuffed up hardwood floor. It would need to be refinished, he thought, but it looked like it was in pretty good shape.

The smell of coffee attracted Patrick’s attention, and he looked over to see that there was a coffee shop next door. Grind House, the sign that hung under the awning said. Curious, Patrick went over and opened the door.

The barista looked up and waved. It being around two in the afternoon on a weekday, the place was mostly empty other than two people at a table in the corner who were huddled over laptop computers. The shop was decorated tastefully for Christmas, and he thought David would approve of the warmth and coziness of the space.

“Hey, what can I get you?” the barista — Taylor, her name tag read — asked him with a smile. Tattoos snaked out from under the sleeves of her t-shirt, black ink against dark brown skin.

“A small earl grey tea?” he asked.

“Sure thing. Is that it? We’ve got a few pastries left.”

His eyes strayed over to the pastry case. “Yeah, could I get a couple of those butter tarts to go? My husband is a real connoisseur.”

Taylor grinned at him. “Smart man.”

“Hey, what do you know about the empty space next door? Do you know if there’s been any interest in it?”

“Oh man, I’m still bummed about that. It used to be a comic book shop. I was afraid to go in there for the longest time — comic stores aren’t necessarily the most welcoming places to black queer women, you know? But the old guy that ran it was super nice. I remember he made a point of telling me when Ta-Nahisi Coates started writing Captain America.”

“What happened to the store?”

She shrugged. “Amazon drove him out of business, I guess. That’ll be $9.25,” she said ringing up his tea and butter tarts. As Patrick put his debit card in the reader, she added, “Why do you ask?”

“Oh.” He scratched his cheek. “My husband and I run a store in Schitt’s Creek. Rose Apothecary?”

“Holy shit, really? A friend gave me some of your lotion for my birthday. It’s great.”

Patrick swelled with pride. “Thanks. Anyway, we’re considering opening a second location in Elmdale.”

Taylor smirked, handing him his tea and a box with the tarts. “Sorry, I can’t allow you to have a store right next door to my coffee shop. I’ll spend all my profits there.”

Laughing, Patrick accepted his purchases. “Oh, well. Guess we’ll have to look for another place, then. Although David would return the favor, I’m sure.”

“What’s your name?” Taylor asked.

“It’s Patrick Brewer,” he said, setting the tea down again to shake her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Patrick. I’m Taylor. And I hope you guys get the space.”

“I… do too,” he said, surprised to find that he meant it.

The store was bustling when he got back to Schitt’s Creek, and David and Bethany were both busy with customers. Patrick put the box of butter tarts in the back room and went to work restocking Christmas decorations. Given how many decorations they sold every holiday season, Patrick had to assume that by now every Christmas tree in Elm County was fully outfitted in David Rose’s aesthetic.

As soon as David finished with the customers he was helping, Patrick went over and put a hand on his shoulder. “I got you something for your afternoon break,” he said. “There’s a white box on the table in the back.”

David’s eyes lit up, and he hurried into the back before he could be waylaid by another harried holiday shopper.

They didn’t have a chance to exchange any more conversation until Bethany finally flipped the sign on the door to Closed and locked up. Patrick felt dead on his feet, but he had to admit that the thought of all the money in the cash register made him feel pretty good. Bethany went to work cleaning the windows while David leaned against the center table.

“Oh my god, Patrick, where did you get those butter tarts? Those are the best ones I’ve had in years.”

Patrick walked over and put his arms around his husband, pulling him into a hug. “A little coffee shop in downtown Elmdale that happens to be next to an empty store that I believe Ray mentioned to you a couple of months ago.”

David pulled out of the hug, his eyes darting back and forth as he studied Patrick’s expression. “It’s still vacant?”

Nodding, Patrick leaned up and kissed David’s cheek. “We should call Ray after Christmas and go take a look at it.”

“Are you sure?”

Patrick shrugged. “No, I’m scared as hell. Among other things, I’m afraid I’m going to miss having days like this with you, working together in our store. But I want to go look.”

David kissed his lips gently. “Okay.”

~*~

Stevie stood shivering on their back porch, bundled up in her hat and puffy parka. “It’s way too cold for this,” she said.

Patrick exhaled pot smoke in a crystalline cloud of breath and handled the joint back to her. “Our families are getting here tomorrow and I don’t want the house to smell like weed.” He giggled. “It doesn’t match David’s holiday aesthetic.”

His phone chimed, and he took it out to look at it, expecting a complaint from David. Instead the text was from his cousin. There were no words, just a picture of Justin pressed cheek to cheek with another boy.

Patrick: Who’s this?

Justin 🌈: his name is Jonah

Patrick: Very cute. And closer to your age, I hope?

Justin 🌈: 🙄 you sound like my mom he’s 18

Patrick: Good. Merry Christmas, Justin.

Justin 🌈: thanks you too

Then a text arrived from David, just as Patrick expected. She’s got even more luggage than last year.

Patrick laughed. Maybe it’s a lot of presents for you, he texted back.

David: You give my sister entirely too much credit.

Patrick: See you soon.

“Why are you suddenly so fucking popular?” Stevie groused, her teeth chattering, handing him the joint back as he put away his phone.

“Sounds like Alexis’s flight got in on time,” he said. “And my cousin Justin has a new… boyfriend, I guess?” He took another hit.

“I can’t stand this anymore; I’m going inside,” Stevie said, taking the half-smoked joint from him and carefully extinguishing it, then putting it in a crumpled sandwich bag that she produced from her coat pocket. Patrick followed her back into the house. “Is this the cousin that you rescued a while ago?”

“How many gay cousins do you think I have?” he asked, pulling his coat off.

“I mean, statistically? Given how many cousins you have? More than one.” She flopped down on the sofa and stretched out on her back. “So are you liking your therapist any better?”

Patrick dropped into the overstuffed chair across from her. “I don’t know. As I predicted, she’s starting to fixate on my sexual orientation and…” He gestured airily in a very David way. “All that.”

Stevie turned her head and regarded him balefully. “The fact that you were in denial about being gay until you were thirty? And didn’t come out to your parents until you were ready to ask David to marry you? Is that what ‘all that’ is?”

“Fuck off,” Patrick grumbled.

“I’m just saying, there’s probably some stuff to unpack there.”

“Stevie, I’m completely comfortable with being gay,” he said.

“Didn’t say you weren’t. It’s not about you being gay, but maybe it’s about how you get so wrapped up in your obligations to other people that you lose track of yourself. Or that you’re so obsessed with not disappointing the people you care about that you have a hard time being truthful about who you are or what you need.”

Patrick blinked. “Wow. Maybe you should be my therapist.”

Stevie laughed. “The problem is, I need to be high to have these deep insights.”

They settled into comfortable silence for a few minutes. Finally Patrick admitted, “I don’t like the way it makes me feel cracked open.”

“What does?” Stevie asked, her mind clearly having wandered.

“Therapy.”

“Oh. Yeah, I don’t think I could deal with that either,” Stevie said.

“It’s like… you know how if you pick up a big rock in moist soil, there’ll be all these bugs underneath it?”

“Ew,” Stevie said in a perfect imitation of David, and the two of them burst into gales of laughter for a while. When Stevie finally got control of herself, she said, “Sorry, what about the bugs?”

He wiped away tears from his cheeks. “It was a metaphor for my brain. I’ve got a lifetime of practice not moving those rocks. I don’t know if I want to know what’s underneath them.”

“Yeah, I get that.” She stretched her toes out, brushing them against the arm of the sofa. “You know you’ll be okay though, right?”

Patrick felt a swell of love for Stevie and he would have hugged her, but it would probably be weird. Also he was comfortable in his chair. Maybe he’d hug her later.

When David arrived from retrieving Alexis at the airport, Patrick put his coat back on to help with the luggage. David opened a bottle of wine and turned the lamps in the living room off, leaving only the light from the Christmas tree to illuminate the four of them as they settled in to talk.

They told Alexis about the new location in Elmdale that they were considering leasing, and she made some marketing suggestions that were good enough that David went and retrieved his journal from the bedroom so that he could make some notes.

“One thing I’ve seen businesses do to get market penetration is sponsor relevant conferences,” Alexis said. “Like, professional association meetings. Then they get their business name and logo printed on everything for the conference — tote bags, lanyards, USB sticks, all that stuff.” Her free hand that wasn’t holding her wine glass flopped around to indicate all of the stuff.

“We don’t really have general store conferences,” Patrick said, bemused.

Alexis rolled her eyes. “But it works for other events too. Summer festivals, parades, whatever.”

“Elm Valley has a pumpkin festival every year,” Stevie said.

Patrick was starting to have a germ of an idea related to what Alexis had said. He sipped his wine and filed it away to mull over later, when he was sober.

Tomorrow, Johnny and Moira and his own parents would arrive and things would take a turn for the chaotic, but for right now, Patrick could enjoy the warmth of David’s hand on his shoulder as his husband bantered happily with his sister and his best friend. Leaning into the crook of David’s arm, Patrick smiled and tried to soak up all of the love in the room, an inoculation against the darkness that might lurk around the next bend in the road.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” David murmured against his spine later in their bed. Their kisses had been drowsy and a little bit drunk as they decided that sex was happening tonight in spite of their houseguests. Alexis was in the guest bedroom and Stevie had zonked out on the living room sofa, David tucking an afghan around her shoulders before he and Patrick went to bed themselves.

“It’s not Christmas yet,” Patrick said with a chuckle, writhing, pressed against the sheets as David worked him up and up.

“I know it’s not technically Christmas, but tonight was so nice,” David murmured into Patrick’s shoulder, words alternating with kisses. “It filled me with holiday spirit.”

Patrick tried not to laugh, he really did, but it was a losing battle. He made an attempt to smother his giggles into his pillow.

“If you say something about me filling you with the holiday spirit, it’s over between us.” The things he was doing to Patrick with his fingers belied that statement.

Laughing again, Patrick pushed his hips back against David’s hand, and then his laughter turned into a moan, and then neither of them said anything coherent for a long time.

~*~

The first town council meeting of the new year came on a grey January afternoon, the threat of snow on the horizon. Everyone was subdued and low energy, even Roland, and Patrick felt drowsy, struggling a little bit to pay attention and type at the same time that they discussed several budgetary issues. A lot of the topics were the same every meeting, with tiny, incremental changes almost too small to detect. Or worse, they were recurring issues that indicated no progress had been made at all.

When they got to the bottom of the agenda, Ronnie asked if there was any new business, and Patrick almost didn’t say anything. The idea that had occurred to him during the holidays had seemed strong on a happier day. Today, he wasn’t sure he had the energy to argue for it. But then he thought about the things Ronnie had said to him about queer activism, and he thought about Taylor and her coffee shop, and he opened his mouth.

“Have we ever considered having something in Schitt’s Creek for Pride?” he asked.

Ronnie raised her eyebrows. “What, like a parade?”

“No offense, but it might be kind of a sad little parade,” Roland said.

“No, not a parade. Like, a street festival. Tents with food and other vendors and LGBT educational booths. Opportunities for people to find out about meetings in the area. Maybe a stage with speeches and musical performances. And we don’t have to limit it to only Schitt’s Creek. I looked into it a little, and even Elmdale doesn’t have anything like it. We could draw vendors and patrons from all over Elm County.”

Ronnie crossed her arms. “Sounds like a way to line your own pockets. I assume Rose Apothecary would be one of the vendors?”

Patrick met her gaze. “I’m sure the rest of council could be counted on to keep us on a level playing field with everyone else. Come on, Ronnie. Can you honestly say it wouldn’t be a good thing for the community? And a good way to bring money into the town?”

She tilted her head in acquiescence. “Put together a formal proposal and we can vote on it at the next meeting.”

“I’m going to vote ‘yes,’” Bob stage-whispered to Patrick.

“Thanks, Bob.”

After the meeting had adjourned, Patrick went over to Ronnie. “I thought later this month I’d go to that Thornbridge LGBTQIA+ meeting you told me about. See what they’re doing and make some connections. Ask if they’d be interested in helping out with our Pride festival.”

Ronnie stared at him for a second. “Your festival idea hasn’t been approved yet,” she said.

“Assuming it’s approved,” he said, unable to keep himself from grinning. “Would you like to go with me?”

“You want me to spend hours in a car with you, driving to Thornbridge. Really.”

“Come on, Ronnie. Someday you and I are going to have to bury the hatchet for good.” He put on his most guileless expression, the one that caused David to accuse him of weaponizing his eyes. “Why not in service to the queer community, of which we are both pillars?”

She almost, for a split second, looked like she was going to crack a smile. Instead she sighed. “Fine. Let me know when it is. I’ll see if I’m available.”

~*~

They celebrated signing the lease for the new store with pizza at David’s favorite spot in Elmdale. There were paper hearts colored by children in the front window, and it reminded Patrick that he only had a few days to find a suitably tacky gift for David for Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t worth it if he couldn’t get David to threaten to divorce him on this, David’s most hated of holidays.

While they waited for their pizza, Patrick reached across the red and white checkered tablecloth and took David’s hand. “Thank you,” he said.

David had been fiddling with his phone, but at the sound of Patrick’s voice, he set it face-down on the table and gave Patrick his full attention. “What for?”

“For being there for me so many times this past year. For… for putting up with me at my worst.”

A crooked smile threatened to erupt on David’s face. “Patrick, you know your worst is still pretty good, right?”

“I hope you’re not still grading me on a Sebastien Raine curve, David.”

David rolled his eyes at that. “No, I’m just saying that maybe you don’t have the most objective perspective on what being married to you is like.” His eyes softened. “I’m as happy being your husband today as I was the first day. Okay?”

Patrick swallowed around a surprising lump in his throat. “Okay.”

“You’re nervous about the new store,” David surmised.

“I am, but it’s the right decision,” Patrick said with confidence.

“I’m nervous too,” David said. “Don’t mistake my outward confidence for anything other than a thin veneer over all of my anxieties.”

That statement automatically put Patrick into reassurance mode. “The marketing ideas from Alexis are going to be helpful. The customer base in Elmdale is huge and has more disposable income compared to what we’re used to at home. I’ve run some numbers, and I think the revenue from this location may outstrip our Schitt’s Creek location in a matter of months.”

David grimaced. “Well, that somehow makes me feel irrationally protective of our first store. It doesn’t deserve to be the under-achiever.”

Squeezing David’s hand, Patrick said, “Never. I fell in love with you there, and there’s nowhere in the world more important to me than that store.”

“We can make new memories at the new store,” David said softly.

Patrick knew, realistically, that he and David probably wouldn’t be spending that much time together at the new store after they got it open. They’d have to split time between the two locations, and there would be even more work to do out on the road, expanding their vendor base to support the increased demand.

David seemed to read his thoughts. “And when we spend our days apart, it will make being at home together in the evenings that much more precious.”

“Yeah,” Patrick managed to say, his voice raw. He averted his eyes from David’s piercing gaze, staring out the window between the gaps in the paper hearts. “Can you… can you talk to me more about that?”

David smiled and rubbed his hands together. “Well, imagine a day when I’m at the store here in Elmdale, and you’re at the store back at home.”

“Are you at the one in Elmdale because of Taylor’s pastries?”

“Shhh,” David said, reaching out with a finger like he was going to put it over Patrick’s lips. “I leave the store a little early, letting one of our trusted employees close up, and I bring home some wine and cheese from the store. Maybe some of Heather’s new triple cream.” He closed his eyes like he was having an erotic fantasy about Heather Warner’s cheese.

“Wine and cheese that you pay for,” Patrick said.

“Naturally. Oh, and fresh berries. It’s summer, and there are berries in season. So I set everything up on the kitchen table, just in time for you to arrive home from the other store. And we drink wine and eat cheese and we tell each other all about our days. The sun is setting, and the light is all golden,” David said.

“I like this story,” Patrick replied. “Then what happens?”

“Eventually we move to the sofa. Maybe watch some TV or listen to some music. We put our feet up and finish our wine and you remember something funny that you saw on the internet and you tell me about it. And then when we get tired, we go to bed.”

“What happens then?” Patrick asked as their server set their pizza in front of them and David grabbed a slice.

David’s mouth twisted into a crooked smile and he waggled his eyebrows. “The rest of the story is very interesting, but you’ll have to wait to get home to hear that part.”

“Hmm, okay.” Patrick reached for his own slice of pizza.

“Hey,” David said, drawing Patrick back to looking at him. “I love you. I can’t wait to see what the next year brings for us.”

Patrick smiled. He felt bolstered, lifted up by David’s support and for once, he allowed himself to feel good about it. “Me either, David.”

#david x patrick #schitt's creek ff #schitt's creek fic #david x patrick fic #david x patrick ff #my fic

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the-yancied-piper · 5 years ago

Text

twig.

Summary: Eric never seemed okay after his father visited. He also never wanted to talk about it. Yancy decides to find out why.

Notes: AU in which Eric Derekson is at Happy Trails, probably due to some terrible shit his dad had him framed him for (*coughs* basically my brain needed an excuse to put Yancy and Eric in the same setting so they can be SIBLINGS and also SOFT)

Words: 2,267

Pairings: none, but Yancy has unofficially adopted Eric

Warnings: verbal abuse; implied abuse (including Yancy); yelling; cursing; mentions of death

Tag list: @dorks-in-fiction @thunderstruck-owl-gal @ambigiousgelpens @beth-bunkus @a-tempest-in-a-teapot @thegirlwhoescapedgallifrey19

AO3 link: Read it here!

* * * * *

Third Sunday. Visitation Day. Most of the inmates had somebody to see. Some of them didn’t.

Technically, Yancy didn’t need to be at a booth. He knew nobody was coming for him. And Gerald, the notoriously sympathetic prison guard, knew that technically the inmates weren’t allowed at a booth unless somebody was already there to talk to them. But Yancy had insisted that he thought someone might come today, I haven’t seen my aunt in ages, and youse can never be too sure, and Gerald knew in his heart that Yancy’s aunt wouldn’t come, and that just crushed his little heart even more. How could he say no?

So Yancy sat in his booth, staring at the glass pane in front of him. The phone to his right hung on the wall, untouched. Gerald was too easy to exploit. He didn’t even have an aunt.

Ignoring the odd feeling in his chest at the collective hum of his friends laughing into their phones, flirting with their partners, and the occasional “I love you too”s, Yancy sat and tried to listen to the conversation happening five feet to his left.

“—didn’t mean it, I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m really—please—please let me talk. I—“

Eric’s thin voice quavered through the air, sounding as if it couldn’t quite get enough buoyancy to carry itself all the way to Yancy’s ears. He furrowed his brow.

Eric had only had a visitor twice since he’d arrived, but both those times, Yancy recalled, he’d gotten oddly quiet. After his first visit, he hadn’t wanted to look anyone in the eye. The second time, Yancy had casually asked who was visiting him and the kid nearly jumped out of his skin. He’d stammered out something about how happy he was to see his dad and gave a halting laugh that didn’t reach his eyes. Then he didn’t talk for three days. Yancy had filed that away in the ever-growing list of Things He Weren’t Too Sure He Liked About the Old Man. Now, he took note of the anxious voice in the adjacent booth.

“I know, dad. I know. Please— I know it was my f—” Eric kept halting, interrupted frequently by a crackly burst of static that rose and fell in pitch like a jagged line. His dad was yelling something, but Yancy couldn’t tell what. Furtively glancing around to make sure no eyes were on him, he carefully scooted his chair a few inches to the left.

Eric’s sentences were incomplete and nearly incoherent, full of pleas and apologies. He seemed to be growing increasingly more breathless. Yancy could hear the wince in his voice every time that sharp burst came through the phone. He could just barely make out the words “disgrace” and “pathetic”. His fists clenched. He quietly moved another half foot, and the crackle took shape:

“—day goes by where I don’t wonder where the hell I went wrong with you … never did a goddamn useful thing for me or ma … brothers would be ashamed to look at you and your … waste of time and energy, you ungrateful tard, no you let me talk … never listened to me, never could just fucking listen … your own fuckin’ fault you’re here, you piece of—”

Eric’s halted breaths started to sound more like sobs, and Yancy decided he had heard just about enough. He shot up from his chair and started to move toward Eric when Gerald stepped in front of him.

“Hey, where do you think you’re goin’? I don’t mean to be too stern, but visitations are one-on-one, personal business.”

Yancy’s jaw twitched. “Don’tcha hear what’s happenin’? Look at Twig. Look at ‘im! He’s shakin’ like a… twig!” He pointed at Eric, whose reedy body was quaking with either fear or repressed sobs. It was hard to tell, but it didn’t matter. Yancy could see the man on the other side now, his face red and his mustached lip curled into a snarl.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t just interrupt people’s precious time with their loved ones,” Gerald protested, putting an arm out. “That’s just not in our rules and it’s very rude, besides.”

“Listen to what’s happenin’! Does he look like he’s enjoyin’ his ‘precious time’ with that asshole? Huh!?”

“It’s not anybody’s business what people talk about in their private conversations—“

“It’s my business, and that bastard ain’t makin’ nothing private. Twig. Twig! Four-Eyes!” Yancy shouted, trying to get Eric’s attention. The teen seemed paralyzed, transfixed on his dad’s furious face, his lips quivering but releasing no sound.

“Hey now, keep your voice—hey—”

“Eric!”

Eric flinched and his head snapped to Yancy. “I—I, um,” he began to stammer, his eyes flitting back and forth between his tattooed friend and his father.

“Yancy, you need to step back now,” Gerald said, getting visibly frustrated.

“Eric, hang up that phone,” said Yancy. “Hang up.”

“B-but, I—we’re—I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“Yancy, step back.”

“What’s he gonna do ta you? He can’t do nothin’. You hang up that phone.”

“I…”

“Yancy.”

Mr. Derekson pounded his side of the glass with his fist and Eric jumped and whimpered. “Listen to me when I’m talking to you, you little…”

Yancy felt a hand applying force to his chest and he slapped it away, marching forward. He snatched the phone from Eric’s white-knuckled grip and pressed it to his mouth, locking eyes with that bastard. “I’m the warden,” he growled through gritted teeth. “And your time is up.”

“Wh— you can’t do that, I’m talking to my son—”

Yancy slammed the phone into the receiver, still staring Eric’s father dead in the eye. His arm had protectively wrapped around Eric’s shoulder, and he gently squeezed it. “C’mon, Twig. C’mon.”

Derek Derekson’s mouth worked uselessly for a few moments, and his tomato face turned even redder. Suddenly he began shouting expletives so loud, Yancy could hear him through the glass and he was certain the rest of the prisoners could too. He felt Eric trembling under his hand. “Hey. Let’s go. I know you got workin’ legs. Let’s go.”

Eric tried to breathe, and got out of his chair. The two of them made to leave when they were halted by a distinctly not-Gerald prison guard with a stern expression.

“You, sir, have violated Happy Trails’ visitation policy,” she said, pointing a finger in Yancy’s face, “and you hurt Gerald’s feelings. You are receiving an official reprimand—”

“Hey, hey!” Yancy got in the guard’s face and pointed right back at her. “I violated nothin’, and youse ain’t givin’ me no reprimands, y’hear?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Yancy yelled. “The only one violatin’ anything here is that fuckface violatin’ Twig’s sanity, and if any of youse had half a brain, that bastard would be in here and my lil’ bro would be out in the world livin’ a normal and happy life! You hear me? Fuck your reprimands. Let’s go, Twig.” He shouldered roughly past the guards, Eric in tow, ignoring the startled and curious heads that had turned in their direction.

No words were exchanged on their way to the exercise yard. Yancy only heard Eric’s laboured breathing and thought of every way he could string Derek up from the rafters of a twenty-story apartment.

The yard was mostly empty, save for two men speaking in hushed tones off to the side, and a few security guards dotting the perimeter. Many of the inmates were still having their visits, and those who weren’t opted to sleep in their cells. Yancy found a bench and sat Eric down. He saw tear tracks on the kid’s face and thought of Jimmy punching Derek through a brick wall. He kept his arm around his shoulder.

They sat for an unspecified time while Eric breathed, and breathed. Yancy knew better than to keep track, or to try to force him to talk before he was ready.

Sobs turned to gasps, and gasps to pants. Eventually, Eric let out a long, slow exhale. A deep breath, and another. He still trembled slightly, like a blade of grass just brushed by a breeze.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” Eric said finally. “Sorry I didn’t hang up.”

“Youse got nothin’ to be sorry about.” Yancy kept his voice soft. “I got a bit riled up in there, but it wasn’t ‘cause o’ you.” He turned to look at Eric’s face. “How you doin’?”

Eric was silent for a few beats, his eyes fixed on nothing in the distance. “I don’t know.”

“Hey. I told you I wouldn’t let nobody hurt you as long as you’re here. Remember that?”

A few more beats. “Yeah.”

“That includes your asshole dad. He don’t have to be in here to hurt you, and I don’t have to be out there to stop him from hurtin’ you. And… you don’t have to be out there either.”

“H-huh?”

“To stop him, I mean. You can hang up.”

Eric opened his mouth to protest and Yancy squeezed his shoulder.

“Yes, you can. That ain’t against no rules. You can always hang up. An’ if you can’t, just gimme a shout. I’ll hang up for you.”

Eric took another deep breath. “Thank you.”

“Don’ mention it.”

They sat in silence. Yancy removed his arm and clasped his hands in front of him, absentmindedly tracing his tattoos and staring at the fence on the far end of the yard. He tried and failed not to think of what he’d heard Derek say, and the desperate way Eric fumbled to find words in the face of his rage. Pathetic. Waste of time and energy. Your own fuckin’ fault. Where had he heard those words before? he thought bitterly. He knew that rage. He knew that fear. He knew the way those words wormed their way into the deepest, most animal parts of the brain and coiled tightly around the ribs, the way they could poison a person from the inside out. He swallowed and calmed himself by thinking of Derek getting run over by a Jeep, repeatedly. The Jeep, in his mind’s eye, just happened to be situated around himself.

“Hey, uh…” Yancy ventured after a few moments. “Your dad. He always talk to you like that?”

Eric stared at his own hands. “Not—not all the time, but. Sometimes. A lot. Yeah.”

Yancy nodded and ran a tongue along his teeth.

“B-but,” Eric scrambled, “he’s not—we’re both.” A breath. “He lost everything too. Not just me. And I’m—I’m—he’s not in jail. I’m here. And he’s not. And everything’s really, really hard. B-because of me.”

“Hey, now. Hey.” Yancy didn’t think anything was Eric’s fault for a damn second, and he blinked and saw his hands around that fat, veiny neck, squeezing—he blinked again, forcing himself to speak through the ringing in his ears. “You know what I think about all that.”

He didn’t, actually. Yancy had puzzled some pieces together and figured the kid’s narcissistic dad was to blame for most of what had happened to his family, but he’d refrained from shoving Eric into that reality. The first step was just trying to get him to see that he wasn’t as terrible and worthless as his dad had convinced him he was. He knew it would take more than his own opinion to change his mind, but hell. He had to do something.

Eric cleared his throat. “Hey, um… when… you were yelling at security,” he ventured. “Did—I thought—it sounded like you said… brother...” He faltered.

Fuck. Yancy felt himself tense. He had said that, hadn’t he?

“L-little brother,” Eric supplied.

“You, ah… you misheard.”

“Oh.”

Fuck. He scrambled to correct himself. “It was lil bro, if we’re gettin’ technical.” He turned to look at Eric, thin as a reed—twig. His Twig, who was currently blinking back tears. Yancy felt his brain fumble. He was supposed to make him feel at home, like family, and he was screwing it up. Your fault. Pathetic.

“I miss my brothers so much,” Eric whispered, and Yancy’s brain shut up for a moment. Eric removed his glasses and pressed his fingers into his eyes. “I’ve never missed anyone so badly in my life.”

Yancy swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat without permission. He watched Eric run a hand down his face and put his glasses back on.

“But—Merrick was the nicest,” he continued. “I remember once… Sterick and Therick had put firecrackers in a dead mouse and set it off just to scare me. I got yelled at for it, cause they—they ran off, and there were bloodstains on my clean overalls, and… Merrick helped me clean up the mess. He never blamed me for anything, or blew up any rodents. He just helped me clean up. He washed my clothes for me. He swept up the barn. He did things like that a… a lot.”

Eric looked at Yancy for the first time since they’d come outside. “You—you’re a lot like Merrick. I think you’d like him lots.”

Yancy rubbed his neck and looked away, choosing to stare intently at a blade of grass. “Ah, I don’t… I don’t think I can match up to any o’ your brothers. Well. Some of ‘em, maybe. But,” he chuckled, “I’m just a regular scumbag lookin’ out for a lil’ twig who’d snap in two if someone weren’t watchin’ him.”

A silence.

Then a soft, “Thank you, Yance.”

“Anytime, Twig.”

And he meant it.

#summary: my brain thought 'yancy and eric found family au' and went hog wild #yancy #eric derekson #ahwm #my writing #11 07 2019 #prison brothers au

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artxyra · 5 years ago

Text

Haunted Affection | Part 4

Part 1 | 2 | 3

Hold on to me love. You know I can't stay long. All I wanted to say was, I love you and I'm not afraid. Can you hear me? Can you feel me in your arms, Holding my last breath, Safe inside myself? Are all my thoughts of you, Sweet raptured light? It ends here tonight.

Evanescence, My Last Breath

Marinette stares at her look-a-like with curiosity and fear. She has never met this woman in her life, and how did she even know her name. Marinette purses her lips and slightly nods.

“I’m not here to hurt you are anything,” Bridgette stated swaying on her heels. She takes a deep breath and exhales. “There is no easy way for me to say this but…” The swaying stops and she grips the edge of her blouse.

Marinette eyes the woman down, she was no older than her own self. “Take your time.” She couldn’t bring herself to pressure the female.

“You, you need to disassociate yourself away from Felix.” Marinette blinks, once, then twice, and finally a third time. Bridgette bites her lower lip as she rubs her hands together as if trying to get excess sweat off them. “Before you can retort, this isn’t jealousy, it’s for your own safety. Trust me on this, please.” Tears began to swell in Bridgette’s blue eyes.

Marinette opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. She looks around trying to grasp the request that was made.

“Why now?” Bridgette focus herself back onto Marinette, “I’ve been seeing him for months, so why now?” Marinette pleads as tears threaten to fall. She couldn’t make sense of all this as Felix never spoke to her about his private life.

“Like I said, it’s for your own safety. Please listen to me and get out while you can.” Bridgette attempts to sway Marinette again.

“I will need more information. The whole time I have known Felix, he hasn’t done anything to hurt me, so why now?” Tears streams down Marinette’s red cheeks. She could feel Tikki’s comfort from afar but this person in front of her is winning.

Bridgette attempts to reason with the bluenette again, but it goes on false ears. “If you won’t hear me out, please, be safe.” Her footsteps fade as the bell dings to life.

Marinette brokenly stares at the entry on the verge of a breakdown. She couldn’t go through this again. Her breathing evens, tears cascading down her cheek. Felix would never hurt her. She wants to believe what Bridgette had said, but there weren’t any facts to back her claim. Bridgette could be another Lila for all she could know.

“Is everything alright, bǎobèi?” Her mother’s voice grounded her to reality. Sabine rushes over to comfort her daughter. “What’s wrong? Did she do anything to you?”

Marinette shakes her head, leaning onto her mother. Sabine rubs her daughter’s head whispering sweet lullabies in Chinese. She couldn’t understand why Marinette wasn’t telling her things, but she must respect her child’s wishes. “You are strong, Marinette, so very, very strong.”

Bridgette only made it around the corner before someone grabs her wrist. She gasps as she takes a good look at the person.

“Felix, what the heck was that for?” She screeches, as her baring kicks in.

“You and I both know; you’re not a fighter so stop pretending to be.” Felix let go and straightens his tie; giving the bluenette a stern look. “Why were you at the bakery?”

Bridgette looks away, squirms under his seemliness glare. She purposely steps on her feet. Felix is taken back by her movements. “He told me, and I just knew that…” Hearing the bluenette’s broken voice, Felix turns around, fist clenching. Her voice fades to nothing as he takes a silent breather.

“She knows nothing, Bridgette. You shouldn’t have done that.” He seethes through his teeth.

“Felix, I’m sorry, but she just like me, stubborn and in love. I played the fool and got burned for it, I’m not going to let the same thing happened to her.” Bridgette put her foot down and is lock into a heated glaring battle with the blonde.

“You had no business talking to her.” Felix begins to walk away but Bridgette wouldn’t let him go.

“Felix please, you’re not protecting her the way things are between you two. If you want to protect her, she needs to know. You failed me once, don’t do it again.” Bridgette wipes her face, gather her belongings and saunters away.

Felix shakes his head at the bluenette and looks at his watch, he was late. Grumbling to himself, he removes himself from the alley and onto the sidewalks of Paris.

Finding his way to the Culpa Manor was an easy trip, seeing the car that was beyond the gates was another story. Felix stares intently at the fancy black car that stands still in the driveway. As much as he prides himself as a strong, stoic, young man, he knows the power that his manager holds on the Culpa family. There’s no time like the present.

M. Gerard takes pride in his work. He looks through the paperwork; approves those that work in his favor and burns those that are against. He knows how the Culpa family work as he’s been doing it for years and the only thing holding him back is the pest of a boy and his sympathetic mother.

“Felix, my dear boy, come in.” He lifts his glass of bourbon to the large brown double door. He’s correct, his perfect client walks right on in. “I heard that Bridgette visit that girl of yours. Such a shame that it didn’t go as she planned.” He takes a sip and gestures for Felix to sit down.

“Don’t,” Felix takes a step forward. “Don’t pretend that you know nothing. You told Bridgette about her.” He folds his arms and looks the man directly in the eye.

“It was merely a suggestion; however, you might want to reconsider my deal concerning the female.” M. Gerard swallows the rest, grabs the bottle, and pours. “You are in a bad position, and the media will begin to wonder what of the girl.”

“She stays out of it. I don’t care about my contract; you can be replaced.”

“Sit. Do I have to remind you why I am the showrunner of this business? You are nothing without me, boy, so show some respects to your elders.” M. Gerard scowls leaving Felix looking everywhere but at the man.

Felix stands firm and walks out. The door slams shut leaving the older man alone with his bourbon. He pours himself another drink and looks over to the portrait of a blonde female with lushes’ long hair.

“Clarissa, why haven’t you taught that boy some manners.” He murmurs taking a sip.

Felix wanted to scream, no he needed to scream, but he knows the moment his anger gets the best of him, M. Gerard has won. He wants to protect Marinette, the girl that he just so happened to fall in love with, but the way things are now, he couldn’t. Frustrated, he pulls out his phone; he knew what had to be done.

On the second ring, the call goes through, “It’s me and I need your help.”

All-day Marinette felt like she was on a loop. Her emotions are a mess and she couldn’t find herself to talk to anyone else besides Tikki. Staring at one of the letters, she couldn’t help but wonder if anything that Bridgette said was true. What did she really know about Felix? Nothing.

“I want to believe her, believe in him.” Marinette murmurs caressing the letter as a single tear fall upon the paper.

“Marinette, you have always done things for others. How about you do something for yourself for once.” Normally, Tikki wouldn’t advise such a result but considering today’s events, she knows how much her chosen needs it.

Setting the letter aside, Marinette turns to her kwami, “I’ve been doing that, Tikki. These last few months have been off and Felix makes me feel alive, wanted, and loved. I can’t let him go. I need to hear it from him.” A determine look appears on her face.

Grabbing her jacket, keys, well the essentials, Marinette makes her way over to the graveyard. The walk is long, but Marinette needed the extra few minutes to figure out what she was going to say to the blonde.

Marinette wonders through the dirt pavement, finding her way back to the iron arbor where everything started. Their friendship, their love, and quite possibly their downfall. She waits patiently for a sign as time went by.

“Marinette,” She turns to see Felix walking over to her. She is amazed at how normal this encounter was starting. Normally he would just appear, scaring her at the beginning.

“Felix,” she acknowledges.

He pulls her into an embrace, not wanting to let go.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispers into her ear. Marinette refuses to cry.

“Then tell me, what is going on.” She pleads with him.

Felix breaks the embrace, “Are you sure you want to know?” He wants to say more but he couldn’t find it in him to risk losing her.

Marinette looks up to him and gently place a kiss upon his lips. She steps back to see him all in his pride. “I want to know, everything. I can handle it.” Could she handle it?

“I want to be with you, Marinette, but my past isn’t a perfect one.” He tries to sway her away.

“I don’t care. I love you, Felix, but we can’t be together if I’m left in the dark.” She wraps her arms around herself. She deeply inhales and exhales to calm her emotions down.

Felix gently lifts her chin towards him and passionately kiss the woman he loves. He knows that it was time to come clean, but at what cost?

“My name is Felix Culpa…”

#miraculous ladybug #haunted affection #ml fanfic #miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous au #ml au #ml felix #felix culpa #marinette dupain cheng #ml tikki #felinette #ml marinette #miraculous fanfic

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luminescentauthor · 4 years ago

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Sora/Nao Getting Together and Relationship Headcanons!

Wow lookit me posting twice in one day!

Please read this post of HCs about their third year or this will make absolutely no sense to you! You can also read part two but it’s long and you don’t need to for this to make sense.

However, if you don’t want to read either of those, the run down is: Sora is cap, Mokichi vice; their year are all on first-name basis since around the end of second year; when people ask if any of the three boys are dating, all four of them just shrug and smile cryptically, because they got really sick of people asking; Nao briefly had a boyfriend named Nakamura but turned out he was just trying to get info on her team for his school so he cheated on her and the team rioted. Tobi and Madoka beat him up.)

This is four and a half pages of a Google Doc, so please see below the cut for the HCs!

Oh also btw this has minor Tobi/Mokichi because, hello, Tobi is living in my mind rent free and he’s not letting me evict him. (Even though I would really, really like to.)

In the middle of Sora and Nao's second year, the entire rest of the boys' team plus the girls' team made a pact not to interfere with Sora and Nao's relationship, and let them sort things out on their own, because some people were getting antsy and tempted to get involved. And they are... starting to regret that.

Tobi, especially, is starting to regret that, and he kind of wants to strangle them both because they're both so dense jfc-

Chiaki is the only one who doesn't know about the pact, since the fact that Nao likes Sora has been very carefully kept from him, and basically so is anything about Nao in general. There’s a pact on the team to make sure to keep such things from him. (Momoharu is the one responsible for this and he's not the least bit sorry. It’s saved him so much pain.)

Nao has been crushing on Sora since first year, and Sora not denying it when people ask if they're dating is NOT helping her feelings, good God.

She spends like a solid twenty minutes every day panicking and/or crying in the arms of one of her friends on the girls' team and/or Tobi.

He is arguably her closest friend on the team beyond Sora (read here for my post about why I think they’re friends), and has long since passed the point of sympathetic into "Oh my God just ask ‘im out, Jesus-" and honestly, so has pretty much everyone except Mokichi, but Mokichi has the patience of a saint.

Sora probably got over Madoka in his second year if he confessed to her (again) and she gently rejected him or if she found a boyfriend (read: Momoharu, probably. I dunno if they worked out, but if they didn’t they remained very good friends. Yes, that’s actually a thing people can do!)

Some time passed, he was over it, and then he developed a more serious crush on Nao after a while.

And it just keeps getting worse and Sora is not thrilled with that. In fact, he's panicking, because feelings.

He's spent a grand total of at least nine hours on the phone ranting to Momoharu (because again, Nao does not get mentioned to Chiaki, so Momoharu it is!)

The entire rest of the team is suffering. First years, second years, Tobi and Mokichi, and those who have graduated. No one is spared. The girls' team has been roped in as well. More than a few people bond over sheer doneness with these two idiots.

Tobi, calling Momoharu: I wanna Die.

Momoharu: Mood, why?

Tobi: Nao ‘as the biggest crush on Sora and won’t do anythin’ about it and I'm sufferin’.

Momoharu: CHRIST, NO -- HE'S DOING THE SAME THING I’M -- WHY IS THIS MY LIFE???

Tobi: Oh my God.

Tobi: I hate them both so, so much.

Momoharu, vehemently: Mood.

Tobi and Mokichi are bearing the brunt of it, and Momoharu is also dealing with quite a lot of the bullsh*t.

Tobi, bitterly, lying on his bed while on the phone with Mokichi and Momoharu: How immoral is it to lock two of yer best friends in a broom closet or locker an’ not let ‘em out ‘til they deal with their feelins like adults?

Mokichi, tiredly: Kenji-kun, no.

Momoharu: I hate to say this because I would like to see that, and it would be very cathartic, but no because they would die in that closet before fessing up.

Tobi:

Tobi: I hate that yer prolly right.

Shigeyoshi "literal actual angel" Kaname has been dealing with ranting from both parties since second year, and he and Tobi have taken to meeting up weekly for lunch or coffee for the sole purpose of complaining about their dumbass friends, and honestly? They get a lot closer because of it.

Tobi, throwing open the door to Mokichi’s house with a bang: KANAME YA ARE NOT GOIN’ TO BELIEVE THIS SH*T-

Mokichi, exasperated, staring down at his phone with its messages from Sora: Oh, I’m pretty sure I will.

Mokichi’s sister: How do you keep getting in-

Tobi: Oh I nabbed Kaname’s key like three months back.

Mokichi: wAIT is that where that go to I thought I lost it?!

Tobi: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Tobi gets roped into Sora's group of "people to rant to" with Mokichi and Momoharu and, at this point, Chiaki as well (Sora eventually told Chiaki, and Chiaki acted all comically betrayed but things were fine) (Momoharu mostly told people not to tell Chiaki in order to annoy Chiaki in all honesty.)

Tobi: Why the f*ck did I agree ta stay at this school

Mokichi: Why did I come to this school at all

Tobi: Why did I join tha basketball team

Tobi: Why did I let Sora become my friend

Tobi: How did I let Sora become my friend?????? Like how did tha’ even happen Jesus I'm still not sure

Mokichi: Poor decisions were made?

Tobi, vehemently: Poor decisions were made.

Then Nao gets a boyfriend and literally everything goes to sh*t (please read THIS POST for the context. It’s the same one I linked at the top. Again, this will make no sense without it. Go read.)

Nao is trying to get over her feelings for Sora because despite having no reason to believe so (having not... asked him about it), she firmly believes that he doesn't return them.

Mokichi has to actually physically restrain Tobi to prevent him from strangling them both on at least two occasions. Like seriously. Tobi might have really punched Sora if he hadn't been held back by local noodle-armed beanpole.

To this day absolutely none of the underclassmen (or Nao and Sora) are sure how Mokichi did that, because third-year Tobi is 180-something centimeters of pure wiry muscle and Mokichi, despite being a two-meter tall noodle, is still a noodle, and his arms are very very noodley.

Where he found the physical strength to restrain an angry Tobi is literally a complete mystery, because Tobi is strong to begin with but when you're trying to restrain his entire person from walking where he wants to? Good luck.

(The answer is he just wraps his longass noodle arms around Tobi and clings to him and is like "kay have fun dragging me around" and Tobi is like "ಠ_ಠ Kaname ya are heavy" "yes that is the point" "f*ck ya.")

Mokichi, whispering frantically on the phone: Momoharu-san please help Kenji-kun is trying to commit murder.

Tobi, yelling in the background: YA KNOW FULL WELL THA’ I CAN HEAR YA, KANAME!

Sora cries about Nao and Tobi is very tempted to just let him sulk, but Mokichi strongarms him into coming over to a sleepover at his house with Sora and basically the three of them just form a giant cuddle pile on the couch and watch stupid movies and eat a lot of ice cream while Tobi ribs Sora over anything and everything, and Sora soon finds himself laughing instead of crying.

Sora loves his friends so much??? He’s so glad he stuck with the basketball team????

Momoharu is this close to just blocking Sora's number.

"Sora. Sora you are one of my closest friends, and you know I love you, but I am in class for f*ck's sake-"

Seriously Sora keeps calling him just to b*tch about how horrible Nao's boyfriend is and Momoharu might actually go crazy.

If Sora drags on Nao’s boyfriend on more time Tobi is going to throttle him, he's had enough.

Mokichi is hitting the limits of his patience too, and that's actually an accomplishment.

But Tobi won’t lie, he’s getting a bad vibe off that guy? He does seem kind of sleazy? And when he hesitantly points that out over lunch with Mokichi -- they meet up just to complain about Nao and Sora at least once a week now -- Mokichi agrees, with a pensive frown, that he also has a bad vibe.

He doesn’t know, Mokichi says. Maybe they’re just all protective of Nao. Tobi sighs and agrees.

Tobi is fully aware of his big brother reflex by this point, but he will never, ever admit that he has such a thing out loud.

Turns out Sora was completely right about Nao’s boyfriend, though. (Even if it was just Sora being jealous, not actually Sora being intelligent.) The guy cheats on Nao, because he's a terrible person, and Sora is this close to hunting him down and committing murder, but he doesn't know what school he goes to.

Madoka calls Tobi to give him the guy's location, and Tobi goes, "please don' tell Sora tha's a bad idea" and Madoka goes "do you think I'm insane??"

Tobi and Madoka then absolutely thrash the guy and then get coffee afterwards and bond over oh my god, our friends are so dumb, because Madoka has been putting up with Nao's rants since first year.

Eventually Sora and the rest of the team convince (the very easily convinced) Tobi to give up the idiot's location and they all take a trip to beat the crap out of him.

Madoka then joins the I Have Pining Idiot Friends support group, which consists of Tobi, Mokichi, and Momoharu.

It's actually Madoka who finally decides to break the "no interfering" pact, after hearing about the sheer extent of the bullsh*t that's been happening, the parts that Nao didn't mention to her. She calls Sora and very tiredly goes "please just ask Nao-chan out, everyone is suffering."

Sora: wHAT

Tobi, eavesdropping as they're all changing: She told ya to ask Nao out

Tobi: Or I'm goin’ to deck ya I stg -- my patience is a very much finite resource, Sora.

Mokichi, tiredly: Please don't kill our captain

Tobi, ignoring him: Sora I am dead serious. Ask her out, or I will break yer nose, consequences be damned.

Tobi is So Relieved that the pact is over. He knew he'd catch grief for it if he broke it, and the second Madoka does, his reaction is "TIME TO PHYSICALLY THREATEN SORA INTO CONFESSING! YAY!"

Tobi, no.

Madoka is wheezing somewhere in the background but is also in full support of this movement.

After a large number of threats, Sora, bright red, stutters through asking Nao out to the amusement park or something, and Nao, also bright red, screams "WHAT" and Sora goes "Uh -- God, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-" and goes to run.

And smacks directly into Mokichi who's like, "Uh, no, you're going nowhere. I am so done."

Tobi, internally: Oh thank God fer Kaname.

Nao, still a tomato, manages to squeak out "I'd love to!"

After Sora and Nao get through the "Really?!" "Really!" part, Tobi dramatically falls to his knees and yells "THANK F*CKING GOD, FINALLY," which, fair.

(And as Sora and Nao are stuttering through a semi-normal conversation after that, maybe Mokichi is in the background, shyly asking Tobi out for coffee without the excuse of talking about Sora and Nao, because maybe their relationship went from "I don't want people to think we're friends" to "I guess you're decent" to "we're friends" to something unnamed and fragile and delicate and maybe a little bit precious. And maybe when Tobi leans against his shoulder and Mokichi wraps an arm around his waist at practice, no one is surprised.)

It's on their third date, in a park after going to a cafe, when Nao abruptly asks, "Sora-kun, can I kiss you?"

Sora short circuits (again.) And Nao freezes up and goes, "Sorry, sorry, too soon, I'm so sorry-" and Sora freaks out and goes, "NO, NO IT'S FINE, I was just -- just surprised!"

They both calm down and take deep breaths, and then Sora steps closer and gently cups the back of her head as her eyes go wide and he asks, "is this okay?" She nods and nervously places one hand around his neck. They lean into each other and kiss softly, and it feels right.

They’re both bright red but they’re both smiling like idiots, and Sora holds her close and thinks, “Godd*mn I got lucky.” He whispers that to her, and she laughs, flustered, and says “Yeah, I did too.”

After six weeks or so of going out, Nao and Sora make it a "boyfriend/girlfriend" thing and now if Mokichi or Tobi are asked if they're dating Nao, they say that she's dating Sora; Nao blushes and shyly corrects the person if they asked about Mokichi/Tobi, or shyly confirms if it was about Sora; Sora just smiles, and confirms that he's dating Nao, blushing.

Mokichi invites Momoharu, Madoka, and Chiaki to lunch with the third years when they have a day off from practice for the sole purpose of giving Nao and Sora a hard time about their mutual pining

Tobi swears up and down that he's going to read out the most embarrassing speech at their wedding and expose them to everyone there, and Nao and Sora both turn bright red and short circuit for a solid five minutes at the mention of marriage while the others laugh at them.

At the end of the year, Nao and Sora receive a trophy from their kouhai that says "Most Disastrous Couple Ever." Tobi and Mokichi didn't stop laughing for a solid twenty minutes, and Tobi is still giving them sh*t about the trophy five years later.

They both attend university and maintain their relationship throughout. Sora proposes when they’re both 29, at the same park where they had their first kiss, on the anniversary of the day they met, because he’s sappy AF. Tobi is rolling his eyes somewhere in the background.

It’s a warm summer night. They get dinner at an expensive formal restaurant. He takes her to the park, and reminisces about the first time they went there together. It was the day Nao joined the team, he recalls. She had left after the practice game, and he had followed her. He had been so impressed by her, he tells her, and he still is. He doesn’t know how he came to deserve her, and she blushes and says she feels the same about him, that he’s just as amazing.

Sora covers her eyes and leads her to a ring of trees in the middle of the park, and uncovers them to reveal that they’re standing in a gazebo covered in flowers and fairy lights. And he smiles at her, and gets down on one knee. Nao’s hands fly to her mouth as he says, “I have been in love with you for well over ten years, and I would like to call you my family officially. Nanao Nao, my light, the love of my life, my everything, will you marry me?”

“Of course I will, you big sap!” she cries, tackling him, tears in her eyes, and kisses him. Neither of them care that they’re getting dirt on their suit and dress; the only thing that matters to either of them is each other.

They get married roughly a year after. Madoka is Nao’s maid of honor. Sora’s best man is probably Momoharu, Tobi, or Mokichi. Maybe Chiaki? I don’t know.

I almost want to make it Momoharu just because he would first completely drag Sora and Nao for their bullsh*t back in high school, grinning, and then invite Tobi up on stage to polish it off. Tobi, on the other hand, would just roast them on his own, which is probably why Sora decides not to make Tobi his best man. (“I trusted you, Momoharu-kun!” “Well that’s on you, Sora.”)

(And if Tobi catches the bouquet and gives it to Mokichi, no one’s saying anything.)

(They will, however, be saying things when Tobi gets down on one knee in the center of the dance floor an hour into the reception and says, “Given that our relationship was formed by bondin’ over these two idiots takin’ two and a half years ta get together, it only seems right that we tie tha knot because they did too. Kaname, will ya marry me?” Mokichi cries and says yes. Nao and Sora also cry. Yes, Tobi got their permission to steal their thunder beforehand. He was sorely tempted not to, just to get back at them, because yes he’s still salty about high school, but he figured he’d better ask.)

When they’re about 38, they adopt a daughter! And yes the others are her aunts and uncles.

Her name is Akari, which means light, and she is a problem child, but she's definitely not Tobi/Hanazono twins levels of problem child, and they love her anyway.

Her name is Nanao-Kurumatani Akari, because screw gender norms, says Sora. Nao’s reaction is “oh my God I love you so much.”

She was about 5 when they adopted her.

Her favorite uncle/aunt is Mokichi (absolutely no one understands why including Mokichi himself) and yes Tobi is mad.

Also Tobi adores her. Tobi sees a small child? Are you kidding me, have you seen him with his sister? Tobi seems like he'd be with horrible with kids but he loves the little sh*ts.

She plays basketball as a PF and she is so tall and yes, Sora is salty.

Scoring machine and inside player, but also learned strategy from Nao (after a terrible loss, she asked her mother to teacher her) and.... fear.jpg.

Basically, Sora and Nao are the most tooth-rotting-ly sweet, romantic, cliché in the best way, sappy, and adorable couple ever, and it’s bad for everyone’s dentist bills.

Here’s a Sora/Tobi edition (I apologize to SoraNao shippers because it’s twice as long and I didn’t even realize that for ages), because again, I have Tobi brainrot. God help me.

You can also check out my Ahiru no Sora Headcanons tag.

#ahiru no sora #ahiru no sora headcanons #headcanons #nanao nao #kurumatani sora #natsume kenji #tobi #shigeyoshi kaname #mokichi #kurumatani sora x nanao nao #soranao? naosora? soranao.#soranao #natsume kenji x shigeyoshi kaname #aka tobi x mokichi #tobimoki #me: TOBI GTFO THIS ISN'T UR POST THAT'S COMING LATER?!#tobi: what if nah

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