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crystalninjaphoenix · 11 months

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Eye of the Storm

Switch AU

A JSE Fanfic

Almost forgot to queue this because I was having so much fun with my friends haha. Anyway I'm very tired as I write this author's note so I'll be brief. This is mostly setup for the next chapter, and some exposition. JJ and Marvin look into some magic stuff, once again investigating that strange crystal ball. Meanwhile, Schneep thinks he's found where Jackie is. And yeah. A buncha stuff happens. Enjoy haha.

More of This AU | | First Chapter | Previous Chapter

Hey JJ. Those sound like some pretty serious issues. Do you want to meet up to talk about it in person?

JJ read the text from Persephone again, then looked up and scanned the restaurant. He was in the Waffle Cone, the same place where Aoife first introduced him to Persephone, the head of the Magic Circle. He was even sitting at the same table against the left wall. The waiter had been over a couple times to ask for his order, but he explained through writing that he wanted to wait for someone.

After what felt like forever, Persephone finally walked in. She noticed JJ right away and hurried over. “I am so sorry, I got caught up at work,” she said, sitting down.

Magic Circle things?

“No, I mean my actual job. What, d’you think running a magician coven pays the bills?” She laughed, then became serious once more. “Okay. But let’s get to this right away. This sounds like a complicated mess you’re in. Where do you want to start?”

JJ thought about it. Do you remember what I told you about Anti?

“The mind-control, right?” Persephone nodded. “That’s... pretty bad. Any magician who put someone under a spell like that would be immediately locked up for using strong black magic. This Distorter thing was able to just... do that?”

Well, Anti had been isolated for a couple days, JJ said. By that group I was looking for. IRIS. I think Distorter took advantage of that to... break him down.

“Hmm.” Persephone pursed her lips. “It’s... hard to know where to stand on Distorter. Aoife and I have done some research. He might be a Void, but I’ve never heard of a Void being so proficient in mental powers.”

What is a Void?

“Someone who has been consumed by a dark power.”

JJ sighed. That would make sense.

“But if Distorter is a Void, he’s not a normal one,” Persephone emphasized. “And honestly, a Void status would not help us to figure out Anti’s situation.” She paused. “Do you guys have any ideas at all?”

Our friend Stacy seemed to distract Distorter before, JJ recalled. Anti came out of the trance for a time while he was concerned with her.

“So you can distract him for a minute. That’s good. I did bring a list of counterspells.” Persephone reached into her purse and pulled out a few pieces of paper stapled together. “Maybe you could cast one while Distorter is distracted and it’ll dispel the power keeping Anti under his control.”

JJ raised an eyebrow at the list. Each page was covered in handwriting, on both sides. That’s a lot.

“There’s a lot of counterspells. And they’re always very long, which, by the way, have I ever mentioned how impressive it is that you can cast magic without spell words or some sort of implement like a wand?”

Practice, JJ said. My stage mask IS an implement, though, so if you see me wearing it casually, it’s because it makes things easier. But back to the topic at hand. What if the Circle helped with these counterspells? We both know multiple magicians makes magic stronger. Everyone couldn’t fit in the hospital, but surely we could bring Anti to the meeting house.

“Counterspells don’t work like that,” Persephone muttered sadly. “They’re sort of... they run opposite to all the usual rules. It’s why most magicians don’t even try to learn them. And I don’t think there’s a spell spell that could help your friend Anti.”

JJ sighed. He expected that, honestly. But it didn’t mean he wasn’t disappointed. What about IRIS? he asked.

“Oh yeah, we can totally help you find another one of their facilities if you need to,” Persephone said. “But remember. It was very tiring for us.”

Of course I remember that. He could vividly feel the lurch as their spells slammed into IRIS’s strange artificial power over and over again.

“So you have to be sure where this facility is,” she said. “And be sure that your friend is there. We probably won’t be able to do that two nights in a row. Hell, maybe not even two weeks in a row.”

That complicated things. It meant that JJ would have to rely on Schneep to find where Jackie was. But he nodded understandingly anyway. We’ll be sure. Now. Is there anything you want to tell me?

“Found anything else out about that crystal ball with the time magic in it?”

JJ shook his head. Not at all. I haven’t seen any more strange images in it. He’d tried a couple times, late at night mostly, staring into his own reflection in the hope that he could somehow divine a solution to this... this calamity they were in. Can you help with that?

“I can’t, but Aoife can. She’s the diviner, remember?” Persephone gave a little chuckle. “Call her sometime. Or... text her. Or you could FaceTime her, then she could see your signs.”

JJ groaned a little. How have I never thought about video calls for sign communication?

Persephone laughed. “Everyone has a blind spot. Don’t worry about it. Call her sometime, okay?”

I certainly will after realizing that.

“Great. Did you order food?”

JJ was a bit surprised at the sudden change in subject, but he rolled with it. No, I figured I should wait for you. I’m not too hungry anyway.

“Well I am. So let’s get something. We can talk about more magic while we do. I’m sure you have more questions about the Circle.”

And so they ordered.

———————

True to his word, Jameson called Aoife almost as soon as he got home, pausing only to tell Marvin everything Persephone had told him. Marvin was just as disappointed as he was to hear the Circle couldn’t help with Anti. “It woul’ve been awkward, anyway,” he said, covering up said disappointment. “We woul’ be jus’ standin’ around as you and all your magician friends did t’at.” And when JJ mentioned he was going to go up to the workroom and call Aoife about the crystal ball, Marvin said he would come, too. “I’m jus’ as curious about the t’ing as you are, y’know.” JJ pointed out that the wheelchair couldn’t go upstairs. But Marvin insisted. So JJ gave in and helped him up.

So now the two of them were there. Marvin sat in the room’s one chair—a swivel chair paired with the desk—while JJ propped his phone up using the pop socket and a scarf, and called Aoife through FaceTime.

It took a while before she picked up. When she did, it looked like she was somewhere... old? An old library? The reference section of an old library? JJ could see bookshelves of binders behind her. “Jameson? What’s up?” she asked in a quiet voice.

Is this a bad time? JJ asked.

“No, it’s fine, I was just doing paperwork for an old case. It can wait. What is it?”

I wanted to ask more about this. JJ held up the black crystal ball, careful not to touch it with his hands and instead using another scarf as a barrier.

“Have you seen anything else in there?”

JJ shook his head, put the crystal ball down again, and signed, The opposite, actually. I’ve been trying but nothing happens.

“What have you been doing to try?”

JJ paused. Last time it activated when I just touched it, so... that? And pouring magic into it.

Aoife shook her head. “I don’t think that would do anything.”

Why not? It did last time.

“How do I put this... sometimes old magic items will randomly become super sensitive. I’m not sure how old the crystal ball is, but I know I had it for years, and the Circle had it for years before me.”

JJ frowned. Somehow, that explanation sounded... wrong. Like it wasn’t what was happening. What about me pouring magic into it?

“Raw power?” Aoife asked. When JJ nodded, she continued. “Yeah no, that wouldn’t work. Divination is very specific magic, very tricky to wield. Most people can’t do it on their own, they need special tools. And before you say the crystal ball could be a tool, I’ll remind you it isn’t even supposed to have time magic in the first place. It’s not the right kind of crystal.”

“T’is is all very fascinatin’, and I do mean t’at,” Marvin said. “But can we get it t’work at all, t’en?”

“Oh! God, Marvin, you scared the bejeezus out of me.”

“Sorry! Forgot I was out of frame.” Marvin wheeled the desk chair into view of the phone with his good leg and cane. “Hello, Aoife. Nice t’see ye.”

“Nice t’see ye too,” Aoife repeated, her Irish accent briefly becoming stronger. “Anyway. You want it to work again?”

JJ nodded.

“Well, check first that it still has magic in it. Do you know how to do a Revelation?”

Another nod. JJ learned it after seeing Persephone do it one time.

“Do it, then.”

JJ held a hand over the crystal ball. He pulled his stage mask down over his face and concentrated. A light blue mist curled around his fingers and fell onto the crystal.

The black crystal surface changed immediately, the reflections on it disappearing. Instead, a tunnel appeared. It seemed to disappear into the crystal, a vortex of blue and orange swirling into infinity. It only appeared for a second, and then it was gone, and the ordinary reflections were back.

Aoife started to say something, but was interrupted when Marvin shouted. He wheeled closer to the table where the crystal was. “T’at—! T’at was—! T’at—!”

Marvin? JJ signed, confused. Calm down.

“Spiral!” Marvin shouted. “The spiral tunnel!”

What’s the spiral tunnel? JJ asked, confused.

“I... I-I don’ remember!” Marvin clutched his head. “I don’ remember, but t’at’s it!”

“Have you seen that before?” Aoife asked from the phone screen.

“Yes!” Marvin’s head shot up again and he pointed at her insistently. “Yes, I’ve seen it before!”

When? JJ asked, curious.

“I... I don’ remember!” Marvin slumped in his seat. “But I know I have. I know I have.”

“Well, that spiral tunnel also appeared when Persephone Revealed the crystal’s magic to us a couple weeks ago, so it must be a sign of that time magic,” Aoife said. “You’re JJ’s man-out-of-time friend. Maybe... you saw it when you arrived here. Or, now.”

We never figured out where that time magic came from, either, JJ recalled.

“Do you t’ink...” Marvin paused, swallowing a lump in his throat. “Is t’ere any way I caused it?”

“Did you ever come into contact with the crystal?” Aoife asked.

“Yes... one day, the day Distorter... used Anti to take me to...” Marvin’s voice got steadily quieter, until eventually it faded away entirely.

JJ’s eyes widened. Marvin, didn’t you see Anti in the reflection of the crystal? And then he attacked you?

“From behind...” Marvin whispered, revelation dawning on his face. “The way he got me t’at day. From behind. A-and I saw him behind me in the crystal.”

“Alright, forget what I said about old magic items being sensitive,” Aoife dismissed. “The reason Jameson saw visions while simply touching it is probably because the crystal was recently imbued with the magic at that point. By now it’s settled so it will be harder to activate.”

“You agree, t’en?” Marvin pressed. “T’at magic came from me?”

“Most likely. From what I know, the timeline seems to add up. Marvin, you’re a witch, aren’t you?”

“I’m—e-excuse me?”

“Someone who uses magickal items and rituals on a regular basis,” Aoife explained.

“I... do have my magickal cards,” Marvin said slowly. “But how do you know t’at?”

Aoife blinked. “I’m... not sure. It must have been one of my feelings.”

We always trust Aoife’s feelings, JJ said to Marvin. She did think something was wrong about those IRIS cameras, remember?

“Alrigh’, alrigh’.” Marvin decided to move on. “But what does me bein’ a... witch... have t’do with t’is whole mess?”

“That’s the question,” Aoife mused. “As a witch you don’t have magic of your own, you shouldn’t be able to imbue objects with power by yourself. Did you have your cards at that point?”

“...no.” Marvin slowly shook his head.

This is all very confusing, JJ said. But, I called you for a purpose, Aoife. How do I use the crystal ball’s magic again? To see the visions?

“Hmm.” Aoife thought about it. “Marvin. Can you touch it first? Maybe it needs... a refresh?”

“I s’pose it’s worth a try,” Marvin said, shrugging. He pushed his chair right up to the table and reached out. “Do I... pick it up?” JJ nodded, so Marvin took a deep breath and grabbed the crystal ball in both hands. He stared at his reflection on its surface.

“Do you see anything unusual?” Aoife asked quietly.

“I t’ink...” Marvin paused. “I t’ink the room behind me is diff’rent? T’ere are no bookshelves, and the walls are lighter in color.” He laughed. “T’at’s not as big a clue for the future as Anti bein’ behind me. All t’is means is I’ll be in a different room eventually.”

That’s still proof that there’s some time magic still in there, Jameson said. Aoife? Do you think I can activate it now?

“Touch it and see if you see anything,” Aoife suggested.

JJ nodded slowly. He reached out to take the crystal ball from Marvin—

An image flashed before his eyes. A single vision, one of the many he’d seen that day. Jackie, sitting at a computer screen in a dark room. Only now... now the image was clearer. Crisper. He could see more of the room, though its plain office-like appearance told him nothing. What mattered more... was the image he could see on the sleeve of the white coat Jackie was wearing. It resembled an eye, with three circles for irises.

And then it was gone.

“You saw somet’ing, didn’ you?” Marvin asked. “Your expression... went all shocked... all of a sudden.”

JJ took a deep breath, and raised his hands to sign shakily. I saw Jackie sitting in an office, at a computer. He was wearing a white coat... with IRIS’s logo on it.

“...oh,” Marvin whispered.

Well, that’s not very helpful, JJ said, trying to dismiss the shock of what he’d seen. We know Jackie is working for IRIS now.

“Sometimes it helps to think of visions as guidance, or as confirmation,” Aoife said.

“So... it’s tellin’ us t’at we shoul’ definitely find Jackie before we deal with Anti’s situation?” Marvin guessed.

Or it’s confirming that Jackie really is working for them like we thought, JJ said. Then he paused. I saw that same vision before... just less clear. Was it... always trying to tell us this...?

“It must have,” Aoife confirmed.

“If it was tellin’ us the same t’ing weeks ago... does t’at mean our future is locked...?” The expression on Marvin’s face could only be described as ‘overwhelmed by gloom.’

“Now boys,” Aoife said firmly. “That’s not true. The whole reason divination is hard for those who don’t have the natural talent is because the future is so uncertain. Having the same vision twice in a row just means it hasn’t changed yet. Or, it has, but that particular event isn’t what changed. Or it has but the meaning of the event is different now. It’s all very complicated. Don’t worry too much about the future.”

JJ blinked, as if that concept was completely foreign to him.

“We’ll work on t’at,” Marvin said hurriedly.

“In any case, it’s possible that the crystal ball won’t be able to show you visions frequently,” Aoife said. “Okay? So don’t put all your hopes on that, either.”

We’ll try, JJ said. But if we do want to see a vision, Marvin has to do it first?

“Seems like it. But really.” Aoife brought her phone close to her face and narrowed her eyes. “Try not to worry. It’s not good for you, JJ.”

JJ laughed. I’ll try. I’ll talk to you again some other time, okay?

“Okay.” Aoife leaned back again. “Goodbye, then.”

Goodbye. And with that, JJ ended the call.

———————

Schneep’s eyes were really starting to hurt. He’d been doing nothing but stare at a computer screen ever since they decided to focus their efforts on finding Jackie. Had he... gone to sleep last night? He couldn’t remember. And honestly, he didn’t feel too worse for wear if he didn’t. That scared him a little. Sure, it was helpful, but he didn’t ask for that.

He would have taken the chance to be immune to Distorter’s tricks if it was offered. But it was not offered.

“Hör auf darüber nachzudenken,” he muttered to himself. Stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about it. But he couldn’t help it. How could he not think about it?

By continuing to look through IRIS’s files. That’s how.

He lied to himself earlier when he said he’d done nothing but stare at the computer screen. In truth, he snuck up north yesterday to try and download more of IRIS’s database. He got some. Would it be enough? Would it be...

...

Yes. It was enough.

Schneep reread what he’d found over and over again. This was up to date, right? It was accurate, right?

Yes. Yes!

He had to call the others. He had to talk to them. Who first? Hah. He wondered that, but there was only really one option. And so he picked up his phone and dialed Rama’s number.

It rang for a long time before the other end picked up. “Who is this?” Rama asked.

Right. He’d gotten another new phone. “Rama? It is me, Henrik,” he said. “I found him.”

Rama’s attitude instantly shifted. “You did?! Where? Where is Jackie?!”

“He is stationed at an IRIS facility east of Mirygale,” Schneep said quietly. “It was converted from an old prison, like the one to the north. Recently, yes, too. I have the coordinates. For, ah, ah... for the GPS. I mean.”

“Can you text them to me?”

“Now? Yes, hold onto your... hat.” Schneep pulled the phone away from his ear and sent a text to Rama, making sure to carefully copy down the coordinates on his computer screen. “There. Did you get that?”

A moment of silence. “Yes, I did.”

“Good. We must act as soon as possible. We must act to find him and, ahhh... get him out of there. Or, stop him? He’s doing nothing, I’m sure, but IRIS has goals, and they might be... something he is helping with... not knowingly.”

“Henrik? Are you... okay?” Rama asked, sounding concerned.

“What are you meaning? Of course I am.”

“You sound, uh... really fucking weird.”

“Am I? I mean, do I?” Schneep leaned back in his chair and stared at the motel ceiling. “I do not feel weird.”

“Well, maybe you do but you don’t realize it. How much sleep did you get last night?”

He didn’t remember. “I’m sure it was enough, I feel full of energy.”

“Yeah, ‘I’m sure it was enough’ is not how well-rested people respond to that question. Take a moment to actually look at yourself.”

“In the mirror?” Schneep asked, and giggled.

“I meant metaphorically,” Rama said seriously. “Look inward. Think about how you feel. You may think you’re full of energy, but that could just be your body running on adrenaline.”

“I don’t want to look inward, there are things there now,” Schneep whispered. “The Distorter was here. I saw him when he did not want me to. It’s because there are things there now. I have a scar on... I have them all over.”

“Henrik,” Rama said softly.

“This is not the time. We have to go get Jackie.” Schneep stood up, stumbling for a moment before something in his legs naturally corrected him. No, wait. That was just him. He did that. By himself. “I will be right where you want to meet me, and I will be there right away.”

“We can’t go get Jackie right away,” Rama said, pain in their voice. “I fucking want to, but... but apparently the IRIS facilities have themselves some strange shield around them that makes it impossible for you to see anything even when you know it’s there. Last time, when they went looking for Anti, JJ had to get a lot of other magicians to help him break that shield. So even if we go there, we can’t do anything.”

“I don’t want to do nothing.” Why did his eyes feel wet? Why did they feel... weak? He’d thought about this recently, he wondered if they were a different shade of blue. Or maybe only one? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to look into the mirror to check for sure. “I-I don’t want to do nothing,” he said again, voice breaking.

“You won’t be doing nothing. Waiting isn’t nothing.” Rama was clearly trying to reassure him, but he didn’t think it was working.

“I wait for everything,” Schneep muttered. He stood in the center of the room, one arm dangling loosely as the other pressed the phone close to his face. “I waited for so much. I wait, I wait, I wait, the only thing there was the worry, the... more than worry, the... Furcht. I cannot remember what the word is. But it was just me and it, and the wait, the wait, the wait for them to come... And then when the wait is over they take you back and it starts again, and you look at yourself, and you think... you think there is something in there that was not before... I was asleep. I was asleep. Except for the mistake. I was asleep. But I knew even before the mistake...”

“Henrik!” Rama’s shout snapped Schneep out of whatever trance he’d just slipped into. “You need to rest.”

“I don’t want to fall asleep.” Schneep’s own voice was so quiet he wasn’t sure Rama could hear him. “Even if it was better than the mistake where I was not. I don’t want to fall asleep.”

“You have to try. You cannot function without it. As I can tell just over the phone.” Rama paused. “Nothing... nothing will happen to you, okay? There won’t be anything new when you wake up.”

“...do you promise?” Schneep hated that he just asked that. Like a child looking to their parents for reassurance that there was nothing in the closet. But he... he had to. He had to have that reassurance, real or imagined.

“I promise,” Rama said. “And when we break through IRIS’s shield, I will call you to tell you. And then we can go get Jackie. Okay?”

“Okay.” He took a deep breath. “Thank you, Rama. I am sorry I’m being so... foolish.”

“You’re the least foolish person I know, Henrik.”

“...Thank you,” Schneep said again, and hung up.

So maybe he did still need sleep. And as he laid down on the bed and drifted off, that fact brought him a strange comfort.

———————

Do you think we could try tonight?

Tonight? I guess we could call an urgent meeting like we did last time. Are you sure tho? Thats really soon.

Yes. I’m sure.

“So you’ll be tryin’ t’at same spell with the Circle now, t’en?” Marvin asked, looking over at JJ in the entrance hall from his spot in the living room.

JJ nodded. I really don’t think we should waste any time.

“Because of the crystal ball visions?”

No, but they certainly didn’t help, JJ said. Will you be okay with me gone? If I recall, last time you were home alone while I was out at this, you left the house late at night on sketchy instructions from Schneep.

“I did, but t’at’s how I got my cards bask, isn’ it?” Marvin shuffled said cards on his lap. Mr. Flufflington, lying on the sofa nearby, suddenly raised his head in surprise at the shuffle sound. “Oh, sorry, Mister. Didn’ mean to wake you up. Anyway, don’ worry about me, Jems, I’m not plannin’ on goin’ anywhere.”

You weren’t planning on going anywhere last time, either, JJ pointed out.

“Well, I’m even less so now.”

JJ stared at him for a moment, then nodded. I’ll be back late again. Don’t wait for me.

“Good night, t’en. And good luck.”

Good night. JJ said that, then left, the front door locking behind him.

Well, with Marvin alone he had to figure out how to spend the rest of the night. Normally he’d read a book and then head to bed... but after earlier, he wanted to look at his cards some more. He was trying to form new patterns with them, balancing a tray across his wheelchair arms for a flat surface.

The two unknowns were bothering him. The jokers. He didn’t know why he had this nagging feeling that they were important. Was it simply because they didn’t know what their symbols meant?

Curious, he separated the two of them from the rest, lying them face-down on the tray so he could examine the runes on the back. An angled spiral with an X over it. That was a much more complicated symbol than any of the others. Did that mean it was powerful? The higher-value cards did seem to have broader concepts—and maybe more powerful runes. Jokers were wild. They could be anything. That was a sort of power.

What would happen if he tried to make a pattern with them?

Marvin debated that for a second, and then decided that nothing ventured, nothing gained. All of the successful patterns he’d found so far had needed at least one of the aces, so he grabbed the Ace of Hearts, with its rune meaning “mark” or “creation.” He placed it in between the two jokers, trying to find an arrangement where the lines on the back designs of the cards matched up. But nothing worked. Maybe he needed more cards?

He searched through the deck and found the King of Hearts. The rune on its back meant, funny enough, “heart” or “life.” Then he grabbed the Five of Hearts (“leaf” or “growth”) as well, because why not make this a heart suit party? Idly, he started messing with the five cards, shifting their positions relative to the others, bending close over—

Marvin screamed. His leg—his broken leg, it—it hurt again! “Fuck!” It was piercing, burning, sharp pain—

Instinctively, he swept a hand over the five cards, dislodging the formation they’d been in. And the pain instantly stopped. He sat there, breathing, for a moment, getting over the sudden agony and its even more sudden disappearance. Then, tentatively, he reached down and gently prodded the injury. It didn’t feel like it had rebroken. Good. Good.

“What the fucking hell was that about?” Marvin asked himself. He looked down at the cards. What pattern had they been in...? Right. The two jokers vertical on either side, with the other three horizontal and stacked on top of each other. Though he was morbidly curious to try it again, he resisted; he didn’t really feel like experiencing his leg breaking all over again. That wasn’t what happened, of course... but it certainly felt like it.

And though that probably should have warned him off from experimenting with his cards for the night, it didn’t. He merely put the jokers to the side once more and resumed. Their angled spirals seemed to shift in the corner of his eyes. Getting smaller and bigger, closing and opening.

———————

Schneep was awoken by a ringing sound. He started up, panic rushing into his heart—then realized it was his phone. Quickly he reached over to the nightstand and picked it up to check the caller ID. It was Rama again. So soon?

Wait... it wasn’t soon at all. The clock on the nightstand read 7:01... am, not pm. And there was early gray sunlight coming through the curtains. And his stomach was rumbling. When was the last time he’d eaten something?

The phone was still ringing. Sitting up, Schneep answered the call. “Hello?”

“Henrik? It’s Rama. Good morning.”

“It is morning, isn’t it?” he muttered, then laughed. “I have been asleep since you last called me.”

“Good,” they said firmly, sincerely. “It sounded like you needed it.”

“I did, I did.” Schneep nodded. “But to serious business. I can only guess you’re calling me because of Jackie.”

“Yes. Jameson and his magicians did that same spell, they found a second IRIS facility right where you said it would be. Well, it was a bit complicated, we had to actually drive out to the location first and that took a while—but after all that, it was there. We are planning on going there today. In only a couple hours if possible.”

“Good.” Schneep nodded. “Give me time to get ready and eat something.”

“You’re coming?!” Rama didn’t bother to hide their surprise. “But... your history...”

“I know,” Schneep said quietly. “But that is why I must go with you. Together we can provide Jackie with enough reasons to see sense. You can tell him why it was such a bad idea to leave... and I can tell him what IRIS is truly doing.”

Rama was silent for a moment. Then they sighed. “It’s up to you. What time would be okay with you? Nine o’clock?”

“That sounds good. Let’s meet at the park again. Will it be just the two of us?”

“No, Jameson is coming too.”

“Not Marvin, though?” Strange, Schneep would’ve thought Marvin would insist on coming even with a broken leg.

“No, he said he wanted to work on things with those magick cards of his. As for Jack and Stacy, well, Jack says someone should stay behind with Anti in case there are any developments. And Stacy has work again. She really wants to help, though. But I do not think this moment is her calling, you know?”

“I understand.” Schneep took a deep breath and stood up. “Nine o’clock at the park. I will see you there. We will finish this.”

“We will finish this,” Rama agreed. “See you then.” And they hung up.

Schneep lowered the phone. His hands were shaking. But he would do this. He would go get Jackie back.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #jacksepticeye au #jameson jackson #marvin the magnificent #dr schneeplestein #brigid writes fanfiction #septicswitchau

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twilightknight17 · 5 months

Text

Yesterday on P3Re: sadness, desperately wishing Kenji would butt out, and a question for Atlus.

Fuuka has been staying up to monitor things during the Dark Hour, since we don’t know what’s going to happen now, and gets a reading from the base of Tartarus that she recognizes as Strega. This is a shock to everyone, since as far as they knew, Takaya and Jin died after their fall from the Moonlight Bridge.

I’m more shocked by the fact that navigators can hijack each other’s communication channels.

We immediately head for Tartarus, and find Chidori there alone.

Time for a boss fight.

Chidori, I think, fits somewhere between Mitsuru and Fuuka in terms of persona powers. She’s clearly got navi abilities that are stronger than Mitsuru’s, but also offensive spells and physical attacks.

(The axe on a chain is cool.)

But this boss fight isn’t normal, and after a while, Chidori stops.

Being around Junpei has changed her. For the better, I’d argue. Anything other that Takaya’s assassin club is an improvement. But it’s also given her a whole new range of feelings that she really wasn’t ready to cope with.

Now that I think about it, Chidori’s arc is pretty similar to Makoto’s in the movie. Give someone a person to care about after they’ve had nothing, and they’re going to be scared of losing them.

But, as is becoming routine for big emotional moments, Takaya and his gun are here to ruin it.

Honestly, being around Chidori has been good for Junpei, too. He’s been growing as a person now that he has a Someone he wants to fight for beyond just the team. It’s nice.

Unfortunately Takaya’s gun is still real and he just fucking shoots him.

Junpei finds himself in the hospital, where Chidori is actually being 100% honest about her feelings for once. It’s a mental thing, because she’s using her healing abilities to bring him back.

But the problem is, as Fuuka points out, her healing requires energy proportional to what she’s healing. So to bring him back to life… it’s going to take a life.

Junpei, understandably, freaks out, and instead of a normal persona evolution, he gets a fusion. I’m assuming because of how Chidori transferred her life force to him, if we’re going literal with it. Or maybe it’s just a metaphor. Either way, it’s great.

Takaya and Jin wisely decide to make themselves scarce, because Junpei is ready to kill. And… there’s nothing more we can do. Fortunately, Monday is a school holiday, so we don’t have to go, but Junpei spends all day locked in his room.

There’s nothing any of us can say to help.

On Tuesday, it’s the start of career experience week! Which I’m realizing is the sort of thing I’d like to have. Go and try out a job in a low-stakes environment to see if you vibe with it.

Unfortunately, Minato is stuck working at Wild Duck Burger. Which is basically free work for them and a hideous uniform for us.

Four days of this. God. At least the week is flying by.

Wait, is that Ryoji’s voice?

No. Please. It’s the last day. Don’t look at me in this stupid outfit.

...oh. Yeah, of course we can.

Kenji, who is also working here apparently, butts in to join us, because apparently our breaks are at the same time. So he’s also here. Ryoji wants to talk about Junpei; apparently they were working at the same place, and Junpei didn’t even show for the first day.

Yeah… I don’t know how to explain, dearest. It’s an entire backstory.

...Kenji, get out. Go away.

He does go away eventually, and Ryoji admits that he was worried about Minato, too.

I dunno if I’m doing “just fine”, but it wasn’t as hard a blow to me as it was to Junpei. It’s sweet of you to be worried, though.

But it’s okay. I’m gonna go slam through any bad feelings by killing stuff in Tartarus. We’re almost to another border floor, which means the last document is here!

Oh, hey, I was right! The antiques lady did used to work for the Kirijo Group. Nice.

Now we can just fuse some personas, and we’ll be ready to head home for the night.

…Liz, are… are you okay?

Welp, career experience week was kind of a bust, but at least we finally got Junpei out of his room. We want to help, and it’s not healthy for him to wallow alone.

The hospital sent over Chidori’s sketchbook. She apparently left it behind.

Junpei, the person you were in love with died in your arms. You do not have to ‘snap out of it’. No one is asking you to get over it right now. We just want you to let us help.

He says we won’t understand Chidori’s drawings, but I think we can understand perfectly.

I guess I should check in on my social links… How are things, Maya?

...so, the ethics teacher doesn’t even LIKE her fiance? Great. Wow. This school is so functional.

Ryoji is over that evening, but he’s hanging out with Junpei. I can’t even be mad, because Junpei’s mood has improved significantly.

I’m glad he’s doing better. It’s going to take a while to get back to normal, but he’s not being crushed under the weight of his grief anymore.

Back to school Monday, hang out with Chihiro, back home to the dorm, and…

Hon. Babe. Love of my life. TELL ME that you’re coming over and I’ll be here. We’ve already established that I’ll ignore all my social links for you. It’s like you’re getting more shy after Kyoto. Is it too hard to talk to me after realizing you’re in love with me? :P

Aigis doesn’t like that he’s here so much, though. And she’s acting weird.

No. You are a person and you are our friend. Don’t talk like that.

And lastly, Mitsuru has stayed up past midnight to take a phone call, with some interesting info.

So, Atlus, what was that about wanting to maintain the core P3 experience? Because there was no way to save Chidori in original P3. That didn’t come til later.

I wonder what I did that saved her. Was it buying the flower?

Either way, what a bunch of bozos. “Core P3 experience” my ass.

Oh well. December is next, and I am ready to get my heart broken! Bring it on!

#Li plays P3Re

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cemeteryklaus · 1 year

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“If oxys missing I think we all know who took it.” FUCK ALL OF YOU??? if you can come to that conclusion in the first place then why have you been ignoring it until it’s staring you right in the face and there’s 20 pills missing? Especially Paul and Paige-who have probably been paying the most attention to Mike and talking with him-ironically also the two people with the most experience with addicts and how they act?? Mike may be smart about hiding his addiction and problems but everybody else in that house is smart and istg, at least Paul and Paige, knew something bigger was going on with Mike and they just pretended like they were checking in with him without wanting the responsibility of doing anything even though they wanted it to seem like they were taking care of and cared about Mike. This man comes downstairs after locking himself in his room for ten days, obsessing over 47 red birds and a the V of the clock hands at the time 10:10 and obviously mentally going through it and??? Paige stands up and walks away?? YOU DID THIS TO HIM HONEY. She didn’t even have the decency to pretend to care or listen-I think patronizing/pity would be a step up from complete disregard. And Paul is just straight up using Mike’s situation to his advantage so he’s playing along in that caring role until he can manipulate Mike from behind the scene to do what he needs to do to suit his needs. Charlie, Johnny, DJ have their own shit going on but at least voice that something’s going on with Mike and the few times they do talk with Mike-it’s a real conversation and not whatever the fuck a Paul was doing with him(manipulation). Paul and Paige act like they’re taking care of him but it’s all a lie-they don’t really care. The people who actually care have been fooled-or just didn’t pay enough attention because they wouldn’t expect addiction from golden boy Mikey. I also don’t know why everybody views mike as this inhumane robot(ya know bc he’s no sentimental, etc), he cries and cares and gets scared more than anybody and he was murdered?? He left the hospital and got put back on the field earlier than he should have but they just think he’ll be okay. Maybe Mike isn’t their responsibility but they want to say there’s no secrets in graceland and graceland is like a family but then they just leave mike to fend for himself because he’s Mike. And when they try to help him- cue the worst possible intervention-it’s more like ganging up on him and then giving up as soon as he fights back. Mike is all alone in this world.

#maybe it’s bc paul usually takes care of his own shit so they expect that of Mike bc they view them as mirrors of one another #also they think he’ll be okay HES LIVING WITH THE PERSON WHO MURDERED HIM…I digress #sorry I had to type this out somehwre cjfkkdksks enjoy tua mutuals😬

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annoyedbyfoolishness · 2 years

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Still Bat-Shit Crazy...

So just to bring everyone up to speed, there are a certain number of women in my immediate circle that are still bat-shit crazy!!! On Saturday, I take my girlfriend to work and I come home to my place and lay down to get some much needed sleep. I can hardly sleep at her place. If it is not her cats running wild in her apartment in the middle of the night knocking shit over or my girlfriend’s horrific snoring, it’s her upstairs neighbors stomping about. So I set my alarm for 11am because I needed to take my step-mom by the funeral home to finalize some paperwork that proceeded my Dad’s 11/18/22 passing. This was around 7am. However, I get a call at around 10am from my girlfriend that I needed to come get her. I looked back at my phone and read her text prior to calling and discovered her patient had go into the hospital so that’s why she wasn’t able to care for her at the patient’s home. Mind you, I am dog tired and half asleep. Good news was, my girlfriend was only about 3 blocks away. I pull up and see the front door of her patient’s apartment is cracked open, so I toot my horn. My girlfriend comes barreling out the apartment talking about, “Well, that was rude...” I was like no it wasn’t. We went back and forth over how it was and how it wasn’t to the point I finally just said, “Whatever...” This pisses my girlfriend off to no end! On they way back to her place, I could already tell that if I didn’t say anything she’d be silent and just get out of the car and walk into the apartment without a word so I told her that I was sorry and that I was half asleep. I tried to reconcile but she wasn’t up for much conversation. I went back home and had planned to watch a football game with her later on that evening. My girlfriend has been acting bat-shit crazy for the past couple of weeks so I make sure to call her to make sure on whether or not its cool if I come over. She was like yeah... I take a shower, stop for gas, and check my phone only to discover that she’s like, “Well, I guess you’re not coming so I’m locking my door and laying down.” Now this pisses me off so I’m like fuck a text, I am calling! She doesn’t answer so I send a text. She returns my call and clear up the confusion, but she wants me to pick her up something to eat. Here’s where it gets good... So I get there and we’re trying to find the game and discover that her Hulu package doesn’t carry the game even though she has ESPN+. i have the ESPN app on my TV back home so try to load it up on her TV. She questions my methods saying why would you try to load it up when it didn’t work before on your TV downstairs. I was like, “Well, I got it to work later on.” The ESPN app didn’t work on her TV so she gets pissed and doesn’t like my sighs and facial expressions calling it an “attitude” and later says, “Well, why don’t you just go home and watch the game at your house! How about that?” I was simply like, “Ok”, and left. And oh by the way, I left the food there and YES she ate it (((LOL))). She proceeds to send me texts judging me on my “attitude” so at that point I have to remind her that my poor old Dad hasn’t been dead for 24hrs yet and that I just might be still in mourning so you’ll have to excuse my attitude if it seems like I have one. I already warned her the day before his passing that I could feel a spirit of anger coming over me and feared that I would spazz out on someone if even slightly provoked. I also took it step further by reminding her on how grateful to God I was that I have a home to come home to because this had made like the 2nd time she had asked me to get out of her house. And I am eternally grateful to God because its cold outside and I would hate to be homeless on these cold streets. Needless to say, she felt bad about that and later apologized for her actions. To be honest after Saturday night, I was mentally prepared for the relationship to be over. Let’s just say that I subliminally took back after accepting her apology. Then we have my mother who is still in the mental hospital. She has called me just about every day with a sincere concerns about how I am feeling after my father’s death but then her conversation turn mental when she begins to talk about topics that have no relevance. All I can do is pray for her. I love my mother dearly. Its just hard for me to process her mental illness. It wasn’t hard at all to process my father’s illness, stage 4 pancreatic cancer, because you could put a finger on it. On the contrary, no one can seem to put a finger on Mom’s illness. Then we have my step-mother. So my Dad passes on a Friday and my step-mom wants to have his memorial services the day before Thanksgiving! I am like that might not be a good time as people are traveling and working during the holidays. She holds firm. Later on her pastor convinces her to push the memorial services to the first week in December. I am glad she agreed to do that way because my Dad deserves a good turn out and proper opportunity for family and friends to make plans to attend. I could go on and on about the incompetency's of other females either in customer service or like but I won’t. I just get so annoyed with what seems like foolishness!

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wherethegravelsthin · 2 years

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whining about my mother beneath the cut

every few months I get thrown back in a mental hospital and it's been years since I last "quit" self harming, I don't even remember how I started again but I did. And every few days I get into a nasty fight with my parents with yelling and I usually end up self harming just from the sheer emotional overload and the entire time it happens all I'm thinking to myself is "I don't want this, I don't wanna do this, I don't wanna feel like this, I wish someone would just give me a hug" but my mom's response to whenever this happens is to tell me that she can't help me because she's "tried everything" and "has spent years trying everything" and "nothing works and I can't help you" and like I know that that's her way of saying that I need to be able to deal with my problems on my own. But also. It makes me feel like a lost cause.

Every day I wonder who's the real "bad person" in the relationship I have with my mom. Is it me or her? I can barely approach calling my family codependent even though we are, I don't have any friends outside of the family home, my mom sure doesn't have any friends, my dad definitely doesn't have any friends, we are a family of three that only has each other and it's suffocating me.

When I was a child I'd come home from school every day saying I was getting picked on and my mom would tell me I needed to "be like a turtle" and "grow a shell". Which now, at the age of 23 as opposed to 6, I rightfully recognize it as the most bananas-insulting thing you can say to your child who is going to school every day and coming home feeling drained and alone and exhausted. To this day she won't admit she did wrong. If I bring it up she's like "I thought I was doing the right thing at the time" or whatever. It's never an, "I thought I was doing the right thing at the time, but it was wrong and I'm sorry". I like never get an apology out of my mom for anything.

I'm 23 years old and I can't lock my bedroom door at night for privacy without my mom knocking on the door and texting me being like "your cat wants to come in the room!!" and she'll get up and go to my door and try to open the locked door and it's like. Does it ever occur to you, mom, that I'm doing 23 year old things? Private 23 year old things that you don't need to fucking interrupt? But I have no privacy and I have no boundaries so, that's fucking that I guess

And I can't move out. I can't move out, because my parents made sure I got on social security, so I get a whopping $600 a month, (which I don't even get btw it goes to my parents), so I'm not allowed to make more than $1000 a month, or else I "won't get the $600 social security money" (read: my parents won't get the $600 social security money), and I've looked up studio apartments in my city and out of my city, more than once, and lemme tell you, even if I was getting that extra 600 bucks a month, it wouldn't be enough to cover living on my own for how much rent is. For a studio apartment. Because then I'd have to think about groceries, and laundry, and transportation -- I don't have a license (I wanted to get it when I was 16 but my parents said no not now and now I really don't want a license bc driving freaks me the fuck out and they're demanding I get one) and there's no public transit route that goes from my home to my job, and. Fuck.

I once wanted to go away for college when I was in college, I wanted to study abroad and go to Ireland, and my mom talked me down from it, saying "well what if something happened, what if one of the pets got sick, what if grandma got sick and you couldn't come home". When covid happened she brought it back up to me, even though Ireland hadn't been on my mind in a couple years at that point, saying "see this is why I didn't want you to study abroad because look at what's happening now". Ugh

The last time I was in this particular mental hospital that I'm at right now (this is my fourth stay) the counselors repeatedly brought up that we may benefit from some family therapy, and I brought this up to my mom when she visited me here and she started crying on the spot and she told me she never wanted this for me, she never wanted me to turn out like her, she wanted something better for me, etc. And family therapy did not happen then, and I doubt it'll happen now, because my mom is not the kind of person who can even stomach the idea that she could be wrong about anything. Especially not if it comes from me.

When JKR first came out as a transphobe I was telling my mother that it was Bad and she wouldn't believe me! She was tossing my words to the side. Thank god my half sister was in the car to tell her "No, she's right, what she's doing is really wrong and bigoted and awful" because she straight up wouldn't listen to me; but she'd believe my half sister telling her the same thing.

I can never tell my mom "let's not do this particular thing right now because I'm getting upset and I don't want to explode", I can never set that boundary, because she pushes it every time. She goes, "well we can't just put it off because then you'll never do it!" and I can try reiterating myself that I'm getting upset and I'm trying not to lose it and she keeps pressing until I explode like a volcano, I have all this lava running underneath me all the time and it just erupts sometimes. And the entire time I'm erupting all I can think about is how I don't wanna be doing this. And my mom has the audacity to say shit to me like "You're still a teenager" when I'm upset. I haven't been a teenager for four years. I'm an adult who has emotional regulation problems, which she doesn't fucking help with.

So I go into these mental hospitals and she tells me to focus on coping skills but honest to god all the coping skills in the world couldn't help me from having an eruption if she doesn't learn how to take "no" for an answer and respect my goddamn motherfucking boundaries for a change.

And I can't move out, and I can't make any more money, and I can't do anything to improve my situation. God. Is it any wonder I feel hopeless and depressed?

#gravel whines

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bakuvantea · 3 years

Note

HEY BESTIE I HOPE YOUR HAVING AN AMAZING DAY

CAN I GET SOME GENERAL HEADCANONS WITH SUNG JIN-WOO WITH A FEMALE S/O

FEEL FREE TO IGNORE BUT REMEMBER TO TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF

>:)

general relationship headcanons of sung jin-woo with his beloved s/o

- warnings: none! just a tad bit of nsfw implications

- audience: I made this gender neutral, i do hope that’s okay!!

- a/n: hello >:) anonnn (may i call u that? lmao-) here’s your request love!! thank you for your kind words <33 stay heathy, stay hydrated, and always rest up okay? hope you have an amazing day ahead too!!

also idk who jacob is-

-•-

: pre-awakened jin-woo (before entering the carthenon temple)

> he was always cautious, he didn't want [you] to hear the whispers going around about how you could've chosen someone better, about how you could've loved someone that was not him. thus, he was very shy and timid, always on edge when he feels the piercing stares from his batchmates -most especially when you try to initiate physical contact with him in your school or in public, you'd see him uncomfortable and so you'd immediately stop (because you respect him, ily). behind closed doors though he would always go above and beyond in pleasing you and making you feel loved, although he always doubts himself so you always make sure to give him praises and assure him that he is the one you love (not that jerk jacob from the class next door).

> he always wears spare hair ties or hair pins around his wrists in case you forget or lose yours. in fact when its weekends -and when he's not out infiltrating dungeons and positively offering his life on a silver platter- he always tries to study new hairdos and hairstyles so he can have more variations and choices when he ties or pins your hair for you. he'd always kiss the top of your head after and you'd feel his smile as he nuzzles your hair, smelling your shampoo. since his hair is also long, you'd also return the favor and tie his hair for him. his favorite would have to be the classic apple look with a pointy lock of hair erect in the middle -he really looks like a shih tzu, adorable-

> he.blushes.so.easily !!! he is very weak to praises and your lil kisses that pepper his face. you can see him glow and you even see his smile evidently becoming wider despite him shying away from you, looking downwards to avoid your loving gaze.

> he may be sht but he is also very playful towards you, teasing you and throwing pillows at you when you’re in his room, what a baby.

> often during dates he'd always need to leave early because he really needs to earn money and g to the dungeons. although you try to offer him some of your savings or your help during the dungeon raids, he'd always reject your offer, thinking of how it may burden you or the dungeon raids may possibly hurt you. you don't listen to him though, you give some of your savings to his sister when you cross paths in your school, and you'd always register after him in raids or call up someone you know to have you join in.

"(name) why are you here?!"

"angel face, i can handle myself just fine. it's my choice to help you and whether you like it or not, i've also been called for this raid. come love, we're going in."

> you'd always take his blue hoodie and wear it. he gets so shy when you smell it.

he gets frantic when you take his hoodie and start sniffing it, exclaiming; "stop! i smell weird."

you raise an eyebrow at him, "woo, you smell fine. i like it."

he tries to stutter a remark but was silenced by your smile.

> you always try to visit his mother with him and his sister, jinah. you always talk to their mother out loud and you'd see jinah smile gently at you and jin-woo trying to stop sniffles from escaping his lips by biting them and covering his face with his hoodie.

jinah: u simp

jin-woo: shut it

> he loved cuddles! but he really likes kissing your cheeks. he loves how soft they are and he loves feeling your cheeks move when you smile or laugh at his cute antics.

> he loves you so so dear

: post-awakened jin-woo (after the events of the carthenon temple)

> oh, dear it's the monarch-

> you weren't with him when he raided the "d-rank" dungeon that then turned out to be,, well pretty much a bloodbath, so you were very worried when you heard word of the news. you and jinah basically ran to the hospital and when you caught sight of him you almost fell down from relief and pure shock in seeing the state he's in. well, not long after though suddenly he's all buff and you were really trying to make sense of what's happening.

you: hello there good sir, what in the name of fck are you doing in my boyfriend’s room all sweaty and half-naked😀

jin-woo: (name) it’s me

you: haha yes, sir ‘it’s me’ that’s a pretty weird name but i don't judge, anyways my baby boy is not here uhm haha please get out of my boyfriend’s room

jin-woo: (name) it’s really me!

you: no sir, my woo radiates baby energy, you on the other hand radiates big dilf energy, haha i do not like what i am sensing so please for the life of me leave-

(jinah had to convince you that it is indeed jin-woo, you had her stop you from trying to hold his tiddies)

> you were very happy in seeing how confident he’s become, and you were even more proud with how he still says so humble despite his new accomplishments and title.

> it was obvious that he has become distant with others and have set a boundary between him and other hunters, you accept that part of him though since you know just how much he has gone through. he may act aloof towards others but he’s still very playful and comfortable with you.

> you have also noticed another thing though, he has become a bit possessive or much protective over you and jinah. he’d always have you bring a shadow with you to guard you when he can’t be with you. also, when someone stares at you for far too long, he’d step in and go, “hey there pal” and oh gosh was that enough to get the guy running (pretty damn hot)

> you still visit his mom with him, he doesn’t cry now though.

> when he trains, you’d insist on lying down below him when he does push-ups. you’d kiss him every time he swoops down and you’d hear him laugh which then makes you giggle as you hold his cheeks between your hands

> jinah is sick of the two you, always screaming about how on earth did her brother get an s/o before her, the audacity!

> his shadows adore you, of they’d always try to impress you or get head pats when you tell jin-woo to summon them for you. you live them to bits and always thanks them for a job well done in helping jin-woo with his raids. on the first time you accompanied him for a raid -you had to bribe him with more cuddles- and you were shocked with how his sweet adorable shadows turned a full 180, becoming ruthless towards the enemies. quite a show you’d say. after though, they’re back to flocking over you, even dismissing jin-woo lmao

jin-woo, watching you give each shadows head pats: i hate it here

you: get in line then

> it may be due to his newly acquired talents and his current mental and physical prowess but he has become more perceptive towards you. he can always read you and know just what your mood is and he always tries to make you feel better by giving his whole attention to you.

> of but of course, since dear jin-woo has become quite the looker, you also notice how girls flock over to him. and especially miss hae-in (she’s very sweet yes, but hey that’s your man so like—). the moment you discovered that she left her guild to join jin-woo’s, and then confessed (well basically she did) to your man, well you were upset but really who could blame her? instead of taking your frustrations out on her and your boyfriend, you decided to just talk it out with jin-woo and ask him about how it went. the two of you cleared it out and you got kisses and maybe even more after that ;))

> you and jin-ho are menaces to society when you are together, he hates how endearing and annoying you two can be. i mean, does he really hate it? nope, he absolutely loves seeing you two interact, although his head always throbs when you two start screaming to britney, gaga, and doja.

> a tease, he has become the master of being a tease, you hate it and love it at the same time. he’d trail kisses down your neck to your thighs and leave some marks then he’d suddenly walk away while asking you what take-out you want. rude, that’s what he is. ofc he always finished what he starts tho oop-

> he always randomly bites you now, you don’t know why but it’s really cute when he starts nibbling so you let him be.

> so extra when he tells you that he loves you. he professes it in such weird but adorable ways. one time he had printed out ‘i love you so much’ on a big-ass tarpaulin and had his shadows hold it for him while he’s kneeling down smoldering at you. you hate him so much (you don’t-). or that one time he bought a bouquet basket and had a ring tied to one of the flowers, you had to take the bouquet apart since the damn ring fell to the very bottom.

> sometimes when he gets back to the agency after his dungeon raids you and jin-ho would see him all grumpy and you immediately know that either he wasn’t able to make the enemy his soldier or his coat got ruined.

jin-woo: *sad noises*

jin-ho: that’s okay, you can kill and slaughter the others and take their souls next time

you: jin-ho couldn’t you have worded that better-

over-all, he’s the bestest boyfriend, such a sweet and handsome pretty boy much strong and reliable we love him<333

-•-

- a/n: i can add more to this if you’d like!! just hit me up again lmao it’s too long now so-

#sung jin woo x reader #sung jin woo #solo leveling #solo leveling x reader #manhwa #jin woo #jinwoo #sung jinwoo #winamikobabbles #sung jinwoo x reader

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sublimecatgalaxy · 3 years

Text

Truth or Dare- Epilogue (Part 10)

Pairing: Elliot (Euphoria) x Reader

Summary: Reader goes to Elliot's house a few days after he gets out of the ICU. She confronts him about his drug issue and they play one final round of Truth or Dare.

Warnings: Mentions of drugs, mentions of OD, swearing.

A/n: I'm relieved for this one to be over. Bit heavy for me to write atm but I'm pushing through so I can study for my test. It's short but it is an epilogue and it's like half proofread lmao.

I hope you all are okay and healthy!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4* Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Elliot finally came home after a few days in the ICU.

The doctors did exactly what they said they would, waking him up slowly the next morning and taking the tube out. I stood there with his cousin, our arms linked together as we watched him softly cough, his eyes still shut in exhaustion. It took him a while to finally come back to it, but he did days later. They moved him to a normal inpatient room where we were finally allowed to go in and bother him.

He was shocked too. He had no recollection of what happened until the doctors and his cousin explained it to him, his eyes widening in fear as he looked at me. I could tell he felt bad, that he wanted to explain what had happened but I just wanted him to get better, to regain his strength.

The terms of his release without rehabilitation were that he was mandated to go to NA meetings, which I had already offered to take him to, and they gave him different names to different therapists to see. He nodded without hesitation, his eyes locked on mine as the doctor continued his speech. I could tell that he just wanted everyone to go away, to leave us be but I couldn’t be alone with him then. Not without breaking down, without being selfish and begging him for answers.

He didn’t need that then.

He didn’t need me asking why he could possibly do this, why he would jeopardize his health and wellbeing just to feel something. I wondered if he was suicidal, even though the doctors had deemed him mentally competent to go home and maintain his sobriety. I didn’t know what he possibly could’ve been thinking at that moment when he was shooting up. Because he certainly wasn’t thinking about me.

But it wasn’t about me.

This was about Elliot and supporting him and any type of progress that he made.

And he didn’t need my questions then. But now?

He would hear all of them if I could get through one word without crying.

The door opens in front of me as Ana smiles softly at me, letting me inside the house without a word. I look around the house nervously, feeling out of place now that she and I have rekindled our friendship. It felt like coming home after a really long vacation. You know it’s your home and it’s familiar but it still feels weird. Ana turns to me with a sad smile, my ears picking up on the guitar that sings from upstairs. That’s a good sign.

“How you been holding up?” She asks, her hands resting on her hips as my eyes widen briefly, thinking back to the last few days of ignoring everyone, locking myself in my room and only coming out if necessary.

Nate was worried about me after he picked me up from the hospital that night, his quiet pleas for me to talk to him going in one ear and out the other. He just sat there with me for a bit before driving me home, letting me seclude myself knowing that I would come to him eventually.

And I did.

“It's been rough. Worried about our boy but…” I explain, my head shaking as I scoff. “I haven’t been doing good, Ana. I just wanna see him.” I beg, knowing that she was pretty adamant on no visitors for a few days to let him adjust and cool down now that he wouldn’t have access to drugs. They warned us at the hospital about his possible withdrawal, handing us stacks of pamphlets to help ‘prepare us’.

Nothing could prepare us for the real thing though.

“I just wanted to warn you…” She trails off, stepping up to me as she takes my hand, my heart stuttering a bit at her worried tone. “He’s kind of all over the place. Shaky, hot/cold, nervous, in tears at some points. He hasn’t really been eating all too much but I’m hoping when he sees you everything will get better. He must’ve been doing drugs way longer than he led on.” She explains, my chest rising in a forced inhale. Fuck, that’s not good. “But, he’s been begging to see you.” She smiles softly, reaching up to pat my cheek gently as my skin warms. “Go on. I’ll be here if you need me.”

My body hesitates as I stand outside his bedroom door, my hands shaking at my side. I had been going over and over what I was going to say. But now that I’m here, looking at the poster on the door, my words are lodged in my throat, unable to come out.

I listen to the guitar and the small hums that come from inside the room, the reminder that this is Elliot, my boyfriend, coming back to me. My fingers wrap around the doorknob with a sigh, the wood creaking as the music ceases.

“Ana, I’m not in the fucking mood-” Elliot huffs but his anger exterior crumbles when he sees me. He looks rough, just like Ana described it. His eyes are sunken in, his lips swollen from anxiously biting them, his hair is knotted; he looked terrible. Handsome nonetheless, though. “Y/n- fuck.” He mutters with a shy smile as he trips out of his blanket, my fingers pushing the door shut quietly. I watch as he stumbles his way to me, my heart beating anxiously in my chest while I look over him. “Um, shit- hi.” He laughs sheepishly as he stands in front of me, his hand scratching the back of his neck as his eyes flutter around the room. He looks twitchy, nervous almost as he looks over me, waiting for me to say something.

“Hi Elly.” I whisper, taking a step closer to him as I take his trembling hand in mine. He lets out a small sigh at the touch, just needing my warmth around him. He felt freezing to the touch, his fingertips cold as ice. “I hear you’ve been begging to see me, hmm?” I ask teasingly, his eyes rolling playfully as he smiles gently. He gives me a small nod in return, his fingers gripping mine as if I’d float away if he let go. “Can we talk for a bit?” I ask, motioning towards his bed as he nods, sniffling loudly as he brushes his tears off onto his sleeve. I hadn’t even noticed the tears prior to now, my attention now focused worriedly on him. He leads me back to his bed quietly, his eyes not leaving my face as he looks for any ounce of anger.

“Can I just say that I’m worried you fucking hate me so can you tell me you don’t so I can feel better? I know you have every right to hate me- I lied to you, for a long time but I just got you back and I-” I cut his rambling off quickly, my hand reaching out to rest on his thigh, watching as he gulps. His anxious, needy eyes flicker over mine, patiently waiting as I come up with the right words.

“I’m not mad, baby, I promise.” I whisper, my eyes flickering to his fingers that lace with mine. “I just- I wish you would’ve told me. I’m not here to make you feel guilty, I’m sure you already feel guilty enough. I just want you to know that I’m here, that I’m not going anywhere and I’ll do anything to help.” I take a deep breath after I get out the words that I’ve been thinking about for at least 48 hours straight. Elliot looks relieved at my words, his face relaxing as he falls into me, his face tucking into my neck. “Fuck, I was so worried.” I whisper, tears slipping from my eyes as he tries to get impossibly closer to me, his arms wrapping around my waist. My fingers slip into his hair, unknotting the unruly curls, his attention tuned into my words. We both fall onto the bed with a huff, his legs wrapping with mine as he holds me tightly to him. I let out a brief sigh of relief at the proximity, just needing and wanting this for hours and hours on end. “Can I stay here tonight?” I ask quietly, a small laugh leaving his lips as he nods.

“Please stay.” He whimpers, his tears falling onto my neck as I smile. We sit in silence for a few moments, the sky growing darker and darker as the minutes pass, Elliot not moving from my arms. “Hey,” he pauses, his neck craning as he sniffles, a smile on his lips, “truth or dare?” He asks quietly, a small laugh leaving my lips but he nods me on, his eyes pleading with me silently.

“Truth.” I whisper, my fingers combing through his hair as he presses a delicate kiss to my lips.

“Do you still love me?” He asks genuinely, my heart swelling at the innocence in his tone. He looks nervous, boyish, his lip tucked in between his teeth as he waits. My gaze softens as much as possible, the palm of my hand resting on his soft cheek.

“Never stopped.”

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

Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex--awesome--22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart @vampviolets

Euphoria Taglist:@ssprayberrythings @username-lols @pessimisticbiitch @urmomsangel

Elliot Taglist: @vintagebitc @kaitieskidmore1

Truth or Dare Taglist: @cheypiexx @hessafeelsfordayss @luvr-bunnyy @4lyssasworld @jamespotterswifey @daddydraco0 @soobzao @c1rcusl1ght @kaitieskidmore1 @applebree2001 @ritadiniss @lselnerys @bex-tk1 @shawkneecaps @alascaxq

#elliot euphoria #elliot x reader #euphoria series #euphoria #elliot #elliot fanfic

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captains-simp · 3 years

Note

Hey!! I was wondering if there’s a chance you could write Angst 4 with situation 4, with Wandaxfem!reader? Thank you so much anywho, I hope you have a great day

I absolutely can and you have yourself a great day too

"Wake up, dammit!"

Warnings: injury detail, near death, thoughts of death and me once again not really understanding how the human body works

2k words

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Being an Avenger required a lot of skills. Practical, physical and mental. You excelled at most of it, your life and that of your teams depended on it. But you had a tendency to let personal matters get in the way.

You weren't the only one guilty of that. You were pretty sure you could name a time it had happened to everyone on the team at some point.

But you and Wanda were much more liable to let that get in the way than the others. You had both made a couple of bad decisions in the past to protect one another's safety. It was hard to control. Your first instinct would always be to protect your girlfriend, as was hers for you.

That was when things were good between you. Things being bad was a new concept, especially the way it affected a mission.

"Clear on the fourth floor C corridor." Wanda said through the comms. You jaw clenched tightly as you withheld the urge to role your eyes.

"I just confirmed that, Maximoff." You said back. Wanda didn't respond to that, not that you expected her to.

You were both working your way up a building that Hydra agents were supposed to be hiding out in. Wanda took the left side and you took the right, there were times where you met in the middle with no exchange of words.

"Thanks anyway, Wanda." Natasha said in an attempt to ease the obvious tension.

You continued to up the stairs to the next floor and tried not to think about the fight you had had the night before. It was a blur the next day, the reason it all started was unknown to you both. You had both been in a bad mood and things had soon escalated...badly. You had both said hurtful things, things you wished you could take back more than anything. The pair of you had formed a habit of giving each other space before apologising, but you had been forced together on the spontaneous mission that has thrown you both off, even more so by the fight being the worst one you two had ever had in your four years of dating. You had no idea where you stood with Wanda.

When you arrived in the center of the fifth floor you and Wanda rounded opposite corners into the main hallway at the same time. You paused when you saw her, she did too.

You were about to say something to her. Something that wasn't bitter or tense. You had the sudden urge to spill out an apology but she spoke first.

"Clear on the fifth floor corridor A." She didn't spare you a second glance, continuing through the building. You nodded to no one and hastily blinked back the tear that threatened to spill.

Focus on the mission. Focus on the mission. Well you didn't have much luck doing that.

"Going on to the next floor." You said steadily. You hadn't done a proper sweep of the floor, but nothing in the building showed any signs of people being there and you needed to put more distance between yourself and Wanda.

You should have waited for her. You knew that. She knew that. No one protested.

As soon as you were on the second floor you let your guard down and leant against a wall to take a moment to gather your thoughts. That was a mistake. A significant one.

You weren't in the right head space for that mission. That become so much more apparent when you when two bullets hit you.

Whether it was shock, panic, being distracted or a most likely combination of all three, you barely registered the first bullet. You saw who shot it though. One single Hydra agent who made a break for the exit behind you.

Just as you raised your gun to fire the second bullet hit you and sent you falling to the ground. You registered him jumping over your immobile body towards the stairs but before he could put one foot on them red swirls surrounded his body and threw him against the wall, knocking him out cold.

Wanda emerged from the hallway and skidded slightly in panic as she stopped to turn your way. Her eyes widened at the sight of the blood covering your clothes and hands. You were shaking violently while trying to put pressure on the wounds, but you didn't know where exactly they were. You couldn't feel any pain. Just numbness. And that was terrifying.

"You...no, fuck. M-medical assistance- now. Y/n's...been shot." Wanda stammered in panic as she knelt down beside you.

Natasha was giving Wanda instructions but you weren't paying attention to anything except your girlfriend.

"It's...okay." You struggled to say. Your breathing was laboured and speaking was even harder. The distinct taste of blood was in your mouth but you had to ignore that.

"I shouldn't have let you come up here alone." Wanda scolded, tears trailing down her cheeks as she found the two wounds. She ripped some fabric from her shirt into two pieces and held them against your stomach.

"I probably...would have...bitten your head...of if...you tried to." You laughed, instantly regretting it as pain shot through you. The shock was wearing off and the pain was taking its place in the most unmerciful way.

Tears fell from your eyes and your head fell back against the hard ground as you gasped, struggling for air. Wanda moved behind you and placed your head in her lap while she continued to apply pressure.

"I'm sorry." Your voice broke as you spoke. "I'm... so sorry for...last night." Wanda instantly shushed you and shook her head. Her left hand stayed on your stomach and her right combed through your hair to calm you.

"We both said bad things."

"I didn't...mean it...any of it." You tried to lock eyes with Wanda through your tears.

"Neither did I, we'll talk about this when you're better." Wanda promised, nodding her head to assure herself that you would be fine.

But just as she said that it became increasingly difficult to stay conscious. It was as though there was something in the dark calling to you, urging you to let go. It would be so easy. There would be no pain. But Wanda wouldn't be there.

You put your hand weakly over hers, wanting her to be the only thing on your mind incase it was the last. The feel of her skin against your own, her soothing voice and the accent she tried to conceal but you loved, the way she cared for you like no one else ever had. The thought that you may never experience that again made your heart drop.

The shaking was getting worse and you felt so cold.

Go to the dark. Don't go to the dark. So easy. No Wanda...Wanda.

You couldn't help it. You couldn't stop it. It washed our you like a wave. The sounds around you became distant, as though everything was far away. You couldn't make out what Wanda was saying. She sounded desperate. You couldn't see her either. Everything was blurred. Then it was all gone.

The recurring beeping from the monitor was the only sound in the room. Wanda had always thought she would find them annoying, but the Sokovian never wanted to hear it stop. Not until you didn't need it anymore. Until she didn't need it.

It had been a week since you were shot. A week since she had seen your bright y/e/c eyes. The doctors were skeptical. Wanda vaguely remembered them talking to her about your injuries, the severity of them and how they would effect you if you woke up. Once you woke up. They said it was a slim chance.

Wanda sat curled up in the chair next to your bed watching you, wondering if it felt peaceful to be in that state. She wore your favourite hoodie and had a blanket from your shared bed over her, it was the only thing that brought her comfort.

"Wake up, y/n." She whispered, as though trying to secretly communicate with you. "Please." She raised her voice slightly, thinking it could make a difference. It didn't.

"Y/n." She leant forward in her chair and took both of your hands in her own. All she had been able to think about was your fight. It had been stupid, so so stupid. You hadn't fixed it, not properly. Wanda needed more than than the brief moments on the mission. She didn't get to apologise. She couldn't let you go before she got to apologise. She had done it over and over to your sleeping form. But it didn't count. She needed you to wake up. To look at her again. To smile. To speak. To go on another date. To share another kiss. To sleep in the same bed...to get married. There was so much left to do. Wanda wasn't prepared for it to be cut short. It wasn't fair.

"Y/n please wake up. I'm so sorry." She pleaded as she gripped your hands like a lifeline. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she pleaded over and over.

"Wake up, dammit!"

When your eyes finally flickered open you shut them again instantly. It was bright, far too bright. You gave a soft groan at that and tried to shield your face with your hand but found no energy to do so.

Your throat was dry and scratchy and your eyes were stinging from the exposure to the light.

You became aware of the beeping and glanced at the monitor as you tried to adjust to your surroundings, taking a for moments to remember how and why you were even in a hospital bed.

In the corner of your eye you saw movement on your left. You slowly turned your head in that direction and had your breath caught in your throat at the sight of your sleeping girlfriend. Was she still your girlfriend? Your heart dropped at the possibility that she might not be, but you hastily pushed it to the side and appreciated her company.

You had missed her. You had no idea how long you had been out. You had no memory of what it was like. All you knew was the familiar feeling of coming home deep in your chest.

Wanda's slim hand was resting on the bed next to yours and out of pure instinct you laced your fingers through her own, still unable to get over how perfectly they felt entwined together. Would she pull her hand away when she woke up? Would she shout at you more?

Fortunately you didn't have to wait long to find out. Wanda stirred from her uncomfortable looking position on the chair and blinked a few times before her eyes fell to your hands.

She furrowed her brows in confusion at the sight, not remembering putting them together but one look up told her all she needed to know.

"Y/n." She said as a sigh of relief, sitting up straight and gleaming at you.

"Wanda." You croaked with a weak but genuine smile. She picked up on that and with one flick of her tinted red wrist a small cup of water came floating towards you.

"Thank you." You said gratefully and took the cup with your free hand, wanting to hold Wanda's for as long as you could. You gulped the water down quickly and placed it on the bed side table before looking back at Wanda.

"You scared me." She admitted, concern prominent in her shimmering eyes.

"I'm sorry." She shook her head and was quick to speak.

"No, no more apologies from you. I'm sorry. For everything. I-" You cut her off by placing a finger to her lips with a smile.

"Stop."

"I really am though." You knew that, you could see it.

"I know you are." You said genuinely. "And I am too. I don't even know how it..." You trailed off as you opened and closed your mouth, not knowing what you were even trying to say. Wanda laughed and nodded, you had missed that sound so much.

"Are we...are we okay?" You asked timidly, fearing the response so much you couldn't look her in the eyes, only staring at your entwined hands.

Wanda lifted your chin with one of her fingers, wanting you to look at her as you spoke. Her warm smile greeted you like a treasured friend.

"We are. And I'm going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

"Well then that's going to get confusing really quickly because I'll be doing the exact same." You declared. Wanda laughed again and brought your hands up to her lips to place a soft kiss on them. A smile spread easily across your face at the gesture.

"Come here." You muttered as you moved over to the edge of the bed and pulled the duvet back for your girlfriend.

She eagerly accepted the offer and slipped in beside you, instantly wrapping her free arm around you to bring you close while her other still held your hand.

"I love you." She whispered as she kissed your forehead.

"I love you too." You smiled and held onto her loose clothing and...how the hell did you miss that? "Is that my hoodie?"

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff imagines #angst

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wlwmarvelenthusiast · 3 years

Text

More Than A Friend

Summary: A weekend trip with Carol leads you to realize you might like her a little more than you'd thought.

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader

Warnings: language

Word Count: 6,194

You crept into the bar. It was a rowdy place, even this early in the evening. Your eyes scanned the crowd, taking in all the different people that were scattered throughout the room. The football game was playing on the TV, but unfortunately, it wasn't really your sport. Finally, your eyes landed on a blonde sitting at the bar. You moved toward her, a smirk on your face. You didn't even bother to slide into the seat next to her.

Your hand touched her hip and your lips were right next to her ear when you spoke. "What's a beautiful thing like you doing all alone here?"

She startled a little, whipping to face you. When she saw you, though, she smacked you away, an unamused expression taking over the surprised look she'd had a minute ago. You slid onto the stool next to her, eyes watching as the bartender held up a single finger to indicate he'd be over to you in a moment. You only nodded in acknowledgment before turning back to the girl beside you, the smirk still on your lips.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" She rolled her eyes.

"Come off it, Care-bear, you love me."

"Christ, I hate when you call me that."

"I apologize, oh Captain, my captain."

The bartender arrived and prevented her from retaliating. You didn't even bother looking back at her as you ordered your drink of choice, glancing up at the football game that you didn't care about in order to not look at Carol. She finally snorted and bumped her shoulder against yours. It made you look back at her, unable to keep a smile from forming on your face when she gave you a hearty wink. She laughed.

"How was work?"

You shrugged. "People are idiots."

When you were sixteen, you'd worked a retail job where you'd learned just how stupid people really were. You'd learned that fully-grown adults had nothing better in their lives to do than yell at teenaged, minimum wage workers during their spare time for nothing more than a minor inconvenience. When you'd become an Avenger, you thought that would stop. You were incorrect. You might not have been a teenaged retail worker anymore, but people found a reason to lose their temper anyway- even right after you'd saved their life.

"That good, huh?" She chuckled.

"Are people nicer on other planets, Care-bear? Take me with you?"

"They're not, no," Carol huffed, sipping from her glass. "And the drinks don't taste as good."

You wondered what she was drinking that she seemed to be enjoying so much. It was colourful, and had, at this point, piqued your interest. You reached out and snatched from where it sat in front of her on the bar. You sniffed it first. It was something fruity, that was all you could figure. Finally, you dared raise the glass to your lips. The second the liquid touched your tongue you felt like you might overdose on sugar and sweetness.

"Oh, my God, Carol!" You exclaimed, setting the drink back down on the bar top and sliding it to her. "What the hell is that?"

"She got it extra sweet," the bartender said as he walked by. "Your friend's got a sugar addiction."

It didn't seem to bother her at all. While you felt you could puke from the sugar content alone, she was sipping it happily. You rolled your eyes at her, reaching for your own drink, much preferring the taste of it. Carol turned to you suddenly, the straw still between her lips. You watched as she lowered it back down, using the same straw to stir the drink around, the ice clinking off the side of the glass as she did. She sipped it again.

"What's our weekend plans, then?" Carol asked finally.

"Who says I have plans with you?"

"Oh, please. You practically begged me to come stay on Earth for a weekend."

"I did absolutely no such thing."

You absolutely did do that. Carol was away from Earth more often than not and you missed her. It wasn't like it was a crime to. So, you'd phoned her up and asked her over and over to come spend just one weekend on Earth with you. She'd finally agreed on the eighth ask, and now here you sat; on the right of the girl you'd missed so dearly, teasing her relentlessly about whatever that abomination was swirling around in her glass.

"We're taking my new car on a little road trip," you finally gave, sipping your drink. "Music, fast-food, and deep talks on the interstate."

"Snacks?"

"Snacks too," you promised with a chuckle. "And we can get a nice motel room or pitch a tent at night. Whichever you please."

You had to laugh at the smile that had crept over her face. The way she giggled in excitement, you had to wonder if it'd just been too long since her last day off or if the alcohol had gotten to her already. She waved the bartender lever as she finished hers. He placed a new one in front of her, and she thanked him quickly, bringing it close and immediately bringing the straw between her lips. You wondered whether the sugar or alcohol content would hospitalize her quicker.

"So, when do we leave?" She chirped.

"In the morning. Don't drink too much. You'll get hungover and I want to actually have fun."

She stuck her tongue out at you. You rolled your eyes in response, finishing your own drink and then declining another. You didn't want to be hungover when you were the one driving the two of you around. The bartender brought you a pop instead. You sipped on it, watching a bar-goer stumbled over with a drunk grin on his face and tapped Carol on the shoulder. He said something you didn't quite hear, but you saw Carol nod. He took her hands and dragged her onto the dance floor. You brought her drink toward you.

Carol was a flirt. She always had been. She was a flirt with you, your teammates, and strangers. She was also gay. This dance with this guy didn't mean much to her. You weren't sure if it even meant much to him. You couldn't be sure that he'd even remember this dance. He was absolutely wasted, and it wasn't even midnight. Regardless, he seemed to be enjoying it. His eyes travelled up and down Carol's body and you squeezed the glass in your hand a little tighter. You were protective of her, despite knowing she could absolutely hold her own.

When the song finished, she winked at him, retreating back to your spot at the bar. She finished up her drink and then insisted the two of you head back to your place and that you were right: she didn't want to be nursing a hangover while you were supposed to be having a good time. You paid the bartender and then linked your arm with hers, leading her out the door and onto the streets. She glanced up at the tall buildings around her. A smile had formed on her face.

"You don't appreciate how beautiful this place is."

You glanced up at the glowing buildings that towered above you and marvelled, for a moment, at the soft light that radiated off them. Your gaze was tugged downward, though, at a rustling noise. You were snapped back into the reality of your city as you watched a rat scurry along the curb of the sidewalk in the direction opposite you. You chuckled at that, motioning to it as you looked up to catch Carol's bright gaze.

"Surely some of those planets are far more beautiful than this."

She shrugged. "Some, maybe. Some are worse. Some are kind of alike to this. This has always been my favourite, though."

You might have understood that if Carol had taken the time to visit the actual beautiful parts of the Earth. But she was always in the city. She'd never gone to stare in amazement at a waterfall or glance at towering mountains. She had never seen the true beauties of this Earth, and you promised in that moment to change that fact. If she thought New York City was beautiful, she would be blown off her feet by the things you showed her.

"One day, Carol, I'll show you the actual beautiful things on this Earth."

"You're pretty beautiful yourself."

You smacked her. That was her flirty side coming out once again. It didn't mean anything. It never had. So, you wondered what that strange flutter in your chest was when she said the words. You ignored it, passing it off as a longing for a meaningful relationship. You hadn't had one of those in a while now. You probably just wanted someone to say those words to you and mean it. You made a mental note to sign up for an online dating site after the weekend had passed. It was too hard to meet people in your line of work without them.

"Yeah, I know," was all you gave in response.

When you glanced over at her, she had a grin on her face.

It wasn't long until you'd reached your apartment building. You smiled at the front desk as you entered the lobby and immediately made for the elevator. You pressed the button to the seventh floor and waited patiently for the doors. You knew Carol was suppressing a squeal of glee when they arrived. She usually just flew everywhere. Using simple inventions like this one had always gotten her more excited than the average person. To anyone else, an elevator was just a boring elevator.

"Can I do it?" She asked as you pulled out your key.

Carol really was just like a child, in a sense. Everything was so advanced out in space that these were the things she enjoyed doing. You pointed out the bronze key and watched her run ahead. She practically skipped the distance to your apartment door. She pushed the key into the lock and turned it, glancing back at you and smiling widely when the door pushed open. You smiled affectionately as you took the key back from her.

She may not have visited Earth overly often, but every time she did, she visited your apartment. Resultantly, she knew her way around. She knew, as well, that you didn't mind in the slightest if she made herself at home. She slid her shoes off and jumped onto the couch, pulling the blanket down over top of her and snuggling into it. You actually took a photo of the sight before you moved into the room behind her, lifting her legs, sitting on the couch, and then dropping them back over your lap.

"Can we watch a movie?" Carol asked, pleading gaze turning to you.

You showed her the remote you'd been reaching for. "Already on it, Captain Danvers."

"I take it back," she giggled, tossing her head back so that it hit the armrest. "That's worse. You can call me-"

"Aw, my Care-Bear!" You laughed, shifting your position so you could throw your arms around her shoulders.

Carol grunted at the impact against her torso. Once you settled, though, she breathed a little easier. You were both squished against one side of the couch, now, but the closeness was nothing new to you. You still had the remote in hand, and aimed it at the TV, managing to get it to Netflix. You flicked on a random horror movie, setting the remote back down on the coffee table in front of you. You nestled back into the cushions.

It had always amused you how jumpy Carol got when she watched horror movies. She was a literal superhero that fought literal aliens all the night and day and yet a ghost jumping out of a darkened corridor had her cringing away from the TV screen and pulling the blanket further up her body as if in an attempt to protect her. She would always adamantly deny it if you ever brought it up later. You would never show her the picture you had of her, fuzzy blue blanket pulled all the way up to her nose, eyes wide, as she watched The Conjuring. She would delete it off your phone as you slept.

Today, though, her nerves seemed to be calmed somewhat by the cup of tea she had clasped between her hands. She looked entirely content, sitting cross-legged on the couch with that same fuzzy blanket draped over her lap and a grey, ceramic mug warming her palms. The alcohol had clearly gotten to her a little, you realized, as you watched her eyelids droop every once in a while. The corner of your mouth tilted upward ever so slightly. She was wide awake a moment later.

It was a sudden jump scare. Even being half asleep, Carol was still paying attention. So, when the TV boomed and there was a flash and a scream, she jumped. The tea that she'd been holding in her lap sloshed over the edges, a large amount of liquid soaking into the couch cushions. You were out of your seat in an instant, reaching for the remote to pause. Carol was apologizing profusely, jumping to her feet and following you to the kitchen.

"It's okay, Carol. It's fine," you chuckled, wetting a dish towel and grabbing some paper towels. "Hey, it's fine. Really. Chill out."

Carol seemed hesitant to do that. When you lightheartedly flicked the wet towel at her, though, she finally smiled taking the paper towel out of your hand and heading back to the living room, pressing the paper towel into the couch and absorbing as much of the liquid as she could. When she'd finished, you used the wet rag to clean the beverage out. As you tossed the paper towel away and threw the dishrag into the kitchen sink, you stood back and took a look at the large wet spot on the couch.

"Guess we're moving to my room, then. Let's go, Care-Bear."

Carol nodded. She trod behind you into the bedroom, where you flopped onto the bed. She was lagging behind and you waved her onward to hurry her up. She finally jumped onto the bed and sat next to you, sliding her legs underneath the covers. You turned on the small TV in your room and resumed the movie you'd been watching. In the soft comfort of the bed, though, it seemed the tug for sleep was greater. Carol's eyes finally fluttered shut and she lay down against the pillows. You chuckled, turning off the movie.

You, unlike your friend, hadn't fallen asleep involuntary. You were able to head to the bathroom and brush your teeth before yawning tiredly and deciding to join. You padded back into the room, climbed under the covers, shut off the lights, and lay your head onto your own pillow. You smiled once at Carol's sleeping figure before you shut your eyes, letting sleep take you.

As hard as you tried to convince her, you weren't able to get Carol to stick her head back inside the sunroof. You weren't sure how to breeze was so exhilarating to her. The superhuman could fly faster than your car was going right now. The wind in her hair had to be a familiar feeling at this point. Plus, there were no laws against flying above the interstate to feel the wind in your hair. There were, however, laws about standing with your entire torso stuck out the roof of the car.

You'd given up a while ago. If she fell out, she'd be just fine. If she got you a ticket? Oh, there would be serious hell to pay. She'd agreed to that already. You'd honestly be surprised, though, if she did get ticketed. It'd be quite a sight to see: a measly police officer ticketing the Human-Kree Hybrid superhero. That sight alone might actually be worth the fine you would have to pay. By the time she'd pulled her head back in, though, blonde hair windblown and a smile plastered to her face, you'd yet to see a single cop.

"Have fun?" You asked, doing up the sunroof.

"Absolutely. You should try."

"Do you know how to drive?" You scoffed.

"I can fly a ship."

"Yeah, I'm sure UFO controls are much different than cars so I'm gonna have to politely ask you to stay the hell away from my car."

Carol only stuck her tongue out at you. She still didn't do her seatbelt up yet. She twisted her body so that she could reach into the back seat. You turned back to the road, but when you shot a second glance at her a few seconds later, she was popping open a can of Pringles with a large grin on her face. She bit down onto a chip with a giggle before turning the can to you. You reached into it with one hand and took a small handful of them, setting them down on the centre console for easier access.

"Where are we staying tonight?" Carol asked through a mouthful of chips.

"A campground up in a small town in Ontario," you hummed. "It's still a good few hours away. I'd ask if you wanted to stop for food, but I'd guess you've filled up on snacks."

She dug through her backpack. "Do I need this?"

She held up the passport you'd made her get last time the two of you had headed up to Toronto. Despite the fact that she really wasn't a citizen of the United States... or even of Earth, you'd managed to get S.H.I.E.L.D. to make you an exception for Carol. It was the perks of being an Avenger, and a close friend of Nick Fury, you supposed. To answer her question, you simply nodded your head as you reached for the Gatorade in your cup holder. She stuck the papers back into her bag.

"So, are you seeing anyone?"

The question almost made you spit the red beverage onto the steering wheel. It wasn't that you and Carol had never talked about it. She was one of your closest friends, after all. She was the first one you'd called when you'd realized your feelings for your last girlfriend, and she was the first one you'd called when you'd broken up. Carol wasn't someone you didn't talk about your love life with. It was just that it was completely and entirely out of the blue. It didn't help that the answer was still no, even after the long period of time since she'd last asked it.

You'd tried to assure yourself that you were just busy with work. It wasn't a lie. You'd been busy as hell ever since Loki's sceptre had inexplicably gone missing after the Battle in New York. But it wasn't just that, you knew full well. Something seemed to be wrong with your brain, or maybe your heart. Maybe it was just that your standards were practically in the clouds, but no one seemed attractive to you anymore. Not even the girl Natasha had tried to set you up with (and you were well convinced that Natasha only knew attractive people).

"Not at the moment, no," you finally admitted. "You?"

"On-and-off," she shrugged. "Just a girl from a planet called Xandar."

A pang of jealousy struck your chest. You were carving something- anything. You would've given anything even for something on-and-off just about now. Had it really been that long? You could hardly believe you were jealous of her. It wasn't like you to be jealous of something someone else had. You were supposed to be happy for her, not sulking over your own lack of a love life... or sex life. You forced a smile at her, wishing it could be real.

"Oh, yeah? Tell me about her."

"Not too much to tell," Carol said, biting down on a potato chip. "She's cute, funny, sweet. A little younger than me, but most people are," she chuckled as she glanced over at you. You plastered a phone smile back onto your lips and forced a laugh from your chest. "Her name's Alya."

You almost grumbled, but managed to bite your tongue on time. You resorted to ripping open a packet of gummy bears in order to keep your mouth full and therefore unable to make any snarky comments. Carol didn't seem to notice that, only reaching over and grabbing a green bear out of the bag. Though you might have been a little frustrated, you let her. It wasn't her fault that you were touch-starved and desperate.

"You know, we could spend this trip trying to find you a girlfriend," Carol grinned, tossing a candy into the air and catching it in her mouth.

"No," you denied immediately. You didn't need for her to see how weird your head was being right now. You were certain there was no one she could find that would be able to snap you out of this strange state of no one being attractive to you, yet craving someone. "I'm not looking for a girlfriend in Ontario."

"What's wrong with girls from Ontario?" Carol teased.

She'd been to Ontario once before. She'd pointed out that, though they may have dressed a little different and talked a little different, the girls from Ontario were just as attractive as the girls from New York. You'd had to point out that, at the time, she'd had a girlfriend. With Carol's ogling at girls on Earth, clearly, she and the girlfriend hadn't been working out well. They'd broken up two weeks later, leaving them both a little hurt, but not beyond repair. Even still, they saw each other for lunch or for a drink, but just as friends. It was admirable; the respect they had retained for one another.

"Nothing is wrong with girls from Ontario," you huffed. "I'm just not in the mood. This is supposed to be our weekend."

"What if I want to spend our weekend finding you a girl?"

"I don't. Drop it," you finally snapped.

Immediately guilt rushed to settle in the pit of your stomach. You readjusted your grip on the steering wheel as your gaze refused to leave the road in front of you. You didn't want to glance over at the frown that had surely taken the place of that infectious smile you loved so dearly. You definitely didn't want to look at it knowing that you were the cause of it. Carol was so incredibly joyful all the time and that was one of the things you loved about her. To be the one who had taken that joy from her, even momentarily, broke your heart.

"I'm sorry," you muttered.

She didn't answer that.

You attempted to swallow the lump in your throat as you tried to focus on driving instead of picturing the frown that was probably tugging at each of Carol's features. You wished you could actually physically kick yourself for what you'd done. She didn't deserve you snapping at her like that. She hadn't done anything wrong. You were just being pissy for reasons you weren't sure even you quite understood. You finally turned to her, but she was looking out the window.

"Look, Carol-"

"Hey, don't worry. Sorry I pushed."

You didn't deserve Carol Susan Jane Danvers one single bit. She deserved more than the world and you swore right then you'd work every moment to give that to her. Despite how you'd treated her for reasons she couldn't possibly have understood, when she turned to you, she was still smiling. As always, her smile put a smile on your face too. You turned away from those soft brown eyes to glance back at the road in front of you.

"It's okay. I'm sorry I snapped. I just... it's a long story, Care-Bear."

"We've got a long ride ahead of us," she tried.

"I don't know that I'm feeling like talking about it right this second," you admitted.

She seemed to accept that. You felt her touch your arm with her hand. Warmth seemed to rush from her touch, up your arms, and into your chest. How one person could instill such comfort into you amazed you. She said a few soft words to you that you didn't quite hear, but you felt you might not need to. You knew they were words of comfort. Just that knowledge was enough to put a smile onto your face. Your eyes flickered from her to the road.

"No problem," Carol chimed. Then, without missing a single beat, she changed the subject. "Hey, which bag did you put the Fuzzy Peaches in?"

"The green backpack."

Just like that, it was easy again. Carol didn't let you linger on just how upset you were for more than a second. She practically dived into the back seat for the backpack, reappearing with the orange package in her hand. She plopped back down into her seat, still refused to put her seatbelt on, and ripped the package open. She reached out and turned up the music when one of your favourite songs came on. You wondered if she knew that.

"No! That piece goes over here!" You insisted.

Carol frowned and handed you the long pole.

Pitching a tent with an alien who hadn't even known was a tent was, up until five minutes ago, was not easy. She'd practically rolled herself up like a burrito in the rain fly right after nearly putting the stakes directly through the floor to pin the tent down. You'd been guiding her, preventing any damage from coming to it. She was listening intently, making sure she did everything exactly how you said. She stuck the peg through the guy line and looked at you.

"Like that?"

"Yeah. Perfect. I think we're just about done, Care-Bear."

At that, she unzipped the door, diving through it into the empty tent. You reached into the trunk of your car, throwing the many pillows, blankets, and sleeping bags through behind her, not caring much where they landed. When you finally shut the door and ducked into the tent, Carol was beneath the large pile, peering out from where only the top half of her face was visible. You had to chuckle, grabbing one of the blankets and pulling it over her face.

Carol insisted she set up. She had you sit aside by the door, munching happily on a small bowl of popcorn as you watched. She carefully unzipped the sleeping bags and lay them down on the floor, putting the pillows atop them, and then the two comforters stacked on top of each other on top of that. When she finally finished, she gestured proudly to her completed setup. You raised an eyebrow.

"We both sleeping there?"

She nodded. "It's cold."

You had to give her that. You were practically shivering just from waiting for her to finish. The sun had dipped beyond the horizon at this point, the darkness of night did nothing to heat up the air around you. You clambered under the blankets, careful not to drop any of the popcorn you still held. You placed it next to you, letting Carol reach over and grab some as she, too, climbed into the makeshift bed. She popped a piece into her mouth.

"Up to talking about it yet?"

It was a genuine question. Carol wasn't pushy. That was something you could tell by her tone. She had waited patiently and was continuing to wait for you to be ready to talk about what you needed to talk about. She didn't want you bottling it up, but she didn't want to pressure you. She was able to do that. You glanced down at the red blanket that covered your legs, pondering her question for a moment. Then you nodded your head yes.

"I just haven't felt myself recently," you shrugged. "I would like to get out there and find someone, no doubt. Recently, though, it's like my standards are unmeetable. No one seems even remotely appealing to me."

"No one at all?"

"Nat tried to set me up with her Russian model friend," you said, turning to Carol with a grin finally on your lips.

"Nothing?" Carol said, an exaggerated amount of shock on her face. "You must be broken."

You shoved her. She chuckled; the offensive action having done nothing. She was inhumanly strong. If you'd decided to punch her, you likely would've broken your hand against her. She shoved you back, only lightly, so you moved a few inches away from her. She stuck her hand back into the popcorn bowl as you shuffled back into your place beside her. She was chewing thoughtfully, and you didn't dare interrupt her with the very focused expression on her face.

"Do you already like someone? That usually takes away the appeal of anyone else."

You stopped to think about that. You knew that could be the case. In eleventh grade when you'd had a crush on Adelaide Artenbaker, you'd suddenly failed to find anyone else attractive at all. Of course, Adelaide had eventually rejected you on account that she was straight as an arrow. It wasn't malicious. She'd actually given you a kiss on the cheek and assured you that, if she discovered wasn't, she'd let you know. It had made you laugh.

Now, you had to wonder if there was anyone that was making your stomach flip and making you dismiss anyone else. It wasn't the Avengers. You'd been in the changing room with Natasha, the Black fucking Widow, two days ago, and she'd strutted up to you in nothing but her bra and underwear. You hadn't even bat an eyelash as she'd asked you if you wanted to get some Chinese food after the mission (but you had said yes, of course).

"Yeah. Maybe."

Her words had knocked some serious sense into you. You definitely had a crush on someone, and it had definitely been impairing your ability to get out on a date. That someone was around so little, though, that you hadn't realized right away just how you felt for them. Maybe if she visited Earth a little more often, you'd have realized why you blushed so deeply when she'd crawled into bed with you last night or right now.

"Who is it, then?"

Carol had a girlfriend. It may have been on-again-off-again, but she had a girlfriend. You were not now, nor ever, someone who would come between that. You were going to let her be happy with someone who was making her happy and you were going to be happy for her. You plastered a smile onto your face and reached into the bowl of popcorn that sat on your lap, letting the snack cloud the feelings of jealousy that you knew now weren't jealousy of a relationship, but if Carol.

"Nat."

Carol didn't miss a single beat. "Liar."

You glared at her. "The fuck do you mean? Telling me who I do and do not like?"

"I know who has your heart right now. It isn't Nat."

This time when she reached for the popcorn, she leaned over. To support her weight, her hand came to rest on your upper thigh. You had to refrain from reacting. You sucked the inside of your cheek between your teeth, biting hard on it to suppress any sort of reaction that Carol would have noticed. It seemed to have worked. She grabbed a small handful and then backed away, the pressure of her hand disappearing from your limb.

"Yeah? Who is it, then?"

"Someone that likes you back."

"And who says Nat doesn't?"

You might have actually been offended if it weren't Carol you were talking to. You were good enough for Natasha, right? She was practically a goddess in respect to her looks, but you were something, too. Not that you liked Natasha in that way. She was a friend. Carol was the one that you cared about. Something about that sweet smile and that confidence mixed with an innocence she had after being away from Earth for so long warmed your heart every time.

"Fair," Carol admitted. "But you know, you're pretty oblivious. With all the hints I've been dropping, you'd think you'd have realized your feelings are reciprocated."

"What?"

"I like you, dumbass. More than a friend likes a friend."

Your jaw might have dropped. You coughed, choking on the popcorn that you'd been eating as you whirled to face the blonde. She had a twinkle in her eyes, and a giggle escaped her lips when she saw the expression on your face. She tossed a piece of popcorn into the air, catching it in her mouth. She chewed on it as she waited, arms crossed, for you to collect yourself. Finally, after a long drink of water, you calmed.

"Pardon?"

"You're an idiot," she mumbled.

Then she grabbed the front of your shirt and pulled you closer. You didn't fail to notice, as your lips moved against hers, that she moved the popcorn bowl so that it wouldn't spill. It seemed completely unimportant, though. You felt everything starting to melt away into Carol Danvers. Her lips were talented and kissing her felt like an intricate sport and suddenly you needed to breathe. When you pushed away, you realized what you'd done wrong.

Her feelings to you didn't matter. She had a girlfriend. Unless that fact changed, she and you didn't get to be more than your friend. You pushed her even further away. You knew she had the ability to, but she didn't resist. You backed off a little further so that your bodies were completely separated. Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but she didn't push. She even waited for you to speak first. Your eyes wouldn't meet hers.

"You have a girlfriend."

"I just said that to make you jealous," she scoffed.

You immediately got defensive. "I was not jealous."

"You were so!"

"Shut up."

She did. You suspected the only reason she had shut up was because she was kissing you again. It didn't matter. You were on cloud nine. You felt right again. You felt more right now than you ever had. Carol was exactly what you had needed for longer than you could figure out right then. She was clouding your thoughts and, honestly, you couldn't have cared less. You didn't want to think about anything besides how good her lips felt on yours right then.

You couldn't even find it in yourself to be mad at her for the little stunt she had pulled. You could only be glad that this so-called girlfriend wasn't actually real, and was just a part of her stupid plan. Without the girlfriend, you were free to kiss her as much as she would let you. Judging by how she was kissing you now, she wasn't going to stop you anytime soon. Her teeth grazed your bottom lip as she pulled away, not moving more than an inch from your lips, though.

The hand that clasped your shirt uncurled. She pressed her hand flat against the centre of your chest, pushing you onto your back. You had to chuckle as her knees pressed into the ground on either side of your waist. She kissed your nose once, scowling at the laughs that were beginning to bubble from your chest. You leaned up and kissed her lips for a brief moment, before using a hand to caress her cheek and tuck her hair behind her ear.

"What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing. You were right," you stated. "I'm kinda glad you were right."

"You're kind of glad? Can you imagine how stupid I'd have looked if I were wrong?" Carol laughed.

"Quite," you agreed with a nod.

You pulled her down next to you, wrapping your arms around her and feeling hers do the same to you. You pressed your forehead against hers, taking the time to admire her smiling face. She giggled a little, pecking your lips quickly. She didn't linger, though, having been preoccupied in reaching over your shoulder into the bowl of popcorn once more. She shoved a few pieces into her mouth and chewed happily.

"Care-Bear, what's more important: me or snacks?"

"You are a snack."

You gaped. "How the hell did you learn that term?"

She shrugged. "I hear things."

You rolled your eyes, pushing her away from you. She let you, reaching for her water bottle to wash down some of the salty flavour that had come off the popcorn. She offered you some water, which you accepted. When you finished and handed the bottle back to her, she pulled you close to her. Your body moved until it was flush against hers. Her torso was so warm you could've fallen asleep right then and there.

"You're more important."

Being more important than snacks, in the opinion of Carol Danvers, was just about the highest compliment you could have received.

#carol danvers #captain marvel #carol danvers fanfiction #carol danvers x reader #mcu #marvel #wlw #lesbian

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sugamamacustard · 4 years

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One more time

Pairing: Alpha! Toru Oikawa x Omega! Reader

Genre: Fluff! (Sorry, no NSFW this time! I just couldn’t fit it!)

Request: Hi 👋 May I request an Alpha Oikawa x Omega reader scenario where they already have a pup and Oikawa wants another. How he would he be with his pregnant omega and his pups ?I'm sorry if this is confusing, ABO Au is one of my favourites but I have never made a request before so I'm not sure how to explain? Fluff, NSFW you can write it however u like THANK YOU 💕

Summary: You loved your small little family, but your alpha felt there was something missing.

Author’s Note: I loved this request so much??? Like, it’s so wholesome and domestic and my A’/B/O heart melts every time at Dad! Alpha! boys. I’m super sorry as I didn’t put any NSFW into this.

Requests: Open!

Toru Oikawa

➵ Your daughter Akemi was a blessing in every sense of the word. She was a sweetheart, happy and giggly and the absolute cutest little thing.

➵ Even if she did look like an absolute carbon copy of your husband.

➵ Her bright brown eyes and chocolate locks all copy and pasted from him.

➵ She was precious in every way nonetheless, even if Toru rubbed it in your face every chance he got.

➵ You never got made at him though, as he was the ideal father in every sense of the word.

➵ He made time for Akemi every day, even if he was sore and sweaty from practice—he’d shower before saying hi to her--, he’d let you have at least thirty minutes a day to yourself, more if he feels he has it down, which is almost always the case.

➵ Toru fed her, changed her, helped you to clean up the house. You both worked like a well-oiled machine and parenthood was a breeze.

➵ It was tough at times but you both stuck to your guns, communicating efficiently about what you wanted for Akemi and her childhood.

➵ How you wanted to deal with future tantrums, what schools you were looking at for her (Neither of you were touching high schools just yet), but there was one thing that you always seemed to slip out of discussing.

➵ Siblings for Akemi.

➵ Either you never really had the time before Akemi was crying, or you and Toru were fast asleep by the time you had the chance or- there were just a multitude of things that stopped the conversation from happening.

➵ Until Akemi’s first birthday though. You were rocking your daughter to sleep, brushing your hand along her head and past the brown locks on her head, just reveling in the feeling of holding your pup, a sign of your and your alpha’s love for each other, even if your omega felt the smallest bit…Empty?

➵ You knew that you and Toru wanted more children, just never got a chance to really talk about it

➵ . “Hey,” Your husbands voice purred into your ear, making you purr in response.

➵ His hands rested on your hips, holding you close as he held his daughter’s hand, running his thumb over her knuckles with such a soft and proud smile, making you just melt.

➵ “I know we haven’t talked about it in a while, but I want another.”

➵ You laughed. “Another pup, huh?”

➵ He nodded, rounding around to take Akemi. He laid her in her crib, slowly moving to hold you close once more—his hands on your hips with yours wrapped around your neck.

➵ He kissed your forehead, resting his forehead against yours.

➵ “Mhmm. This time they’ll look just like you with your cute little nose and beautiful eyes. Maybe even your adorable little cheeks.” You laughed, squirming when his hands came up to pinch your cheeks, enlarging your smiling face.

➵ He let go suddenly, turning and walking out of the nursery with a smirk. “Of course, maybe the Oikawa genes just run to deep.” He chuckled, making his way to your bedroom. You merely laughed once more before following.

___

➵ “And then when mommy’s tummy is all big and round- Pop! Out comes your new sibling. Maybe a boy or girl. I hope for a girl. Two little princesses to spoil and love.”

➵ Akemi giggled at her father’s words, not really understanding what was going on but enjoying the attention, nonetheless.

➵ Toru couldn’t blame her though, as he too was laughing and giggling all through the house.

➵ It had been four months since you began trying, a heat passing where Oikawa proved yet again, he was the perfect husband by tending to you and allowing his sister to watch Akemi for four days your heat was there.

➵ She was ecstatic to hear the news of you guys trying and jumped at every opportunity to babysit for you guys.

➵ “It’s not really a pop, but whatever you say, Daddy.” You laughed, stepping out of the bathroom, thin stick in your hands. Toru watched you expectantly, turning Akemi to look at you too.

➵ “Ma!” Akemi preened, holding your cheeks with her small chubby hands when your nose rubbed against hers.

➵ You crouched in front of her, holding Toru’s knees with your hands before smiling up at him.

➵ “Hope your ready to go through those nine months again.” You chuckled, Toru nearly squealing with delight as he brought you into a hug, Akemi squished carefully between you two.

➵ “Ma!”

➵ “Ma- Oh my god- I’m gonna be a dad again ‘Kemi! Focus on me!”

➵ “Ma!”

___

➵ You knew you married Toru Oikawa for a good reason.

➵ Yes, he could be an asshole.

➵ Yes, he could be the most annoying person you would ever meet.

➵ Yes, he sometimes cared too much for volleyball and-

➵ You had a point. What was it?

➵ Oh- Toru was an amazing husband through and through, despite all his flaws. He cared deeply for you, for your daughter, for your new baby (You decided to keep the gender a surprise to piss of Mattsun and Hanamaki who had a current running bet on what it would be).

➵ Every inch of his being, both alpha and not, was dedicated to your family. He was just as doting during this pregnancy as he was the last, making you purr in delight. He never wasted an opportunity to run out and grab whatever you were craving. He was even teaching Akemi to help.

➵ She’d waddle around after you—making you watch where you are going 24/7—picking up anything you dropped and giving it the extra foot and a half that would make your life so much easier.

➵ She picked out blankets and onesies and pacifiers, everything you would need she had a say in. And maybe it was another Blood Oikawa thing, but she had great taste.

➵ There was a small running duckling theme in the new nursery, which was painted a pale grey, most of which was coordinated by…You guessed it.

➵ Oikawa and Akemi.

➵For being twenty- almost twenty-one - months (A year and eight months), she was incredibly clever and smart for her age. That was all you though.

➵ No way was Toru ‘hit it till it breaks’ Oikawa the smart one in your relationship. (I live to bully this man I’m so sorry).

➵ When the first signs of labour (I’ve waited for this moment. To write about labour, as I see it done wrong all the time and as a Bio 30 student it hurts) showed up, you two began making plans to slowly prep yourself for the delivery of your new baby.

➵ Oikawa called up his sister, who screeched—loudly into his ear when he told her about your first contractions—before agreeing to come over in case they drastically increased. You re-packed and double checked your hospital bag, making sure you had everything you didn’t during your first trip.

➵ And you even packed Akemi her own bag for when her aunt would drop her off to meet her new sibling. She was just as excited to meet them as you were and was constantly handing you things she would later ‘gift’ to her sibling (These included a multitude of…art that was labeled 2 bb in the cutest, but messiest scribbles you’ve ever seen).

➵ You had to explain that when her sibling got back from the hospital, she could give them all the art she wanted as it would not all fit into the bag. She understood, watching you pack a change of clothes and pull ups for her.

➵ She would waddle after you as you and Toru would slowly walk up and down the hallways to try and ease the pain, which was more uncomfortable than painful really.

➵ Coos left both of you when she tied to hold onto your leg like Toru was, looking up to you with wide eyes brimmed with tears.

➵ When active labour kicked in, she cried, hugging you both before you left. Akemi made sure to pat your belly at least one more time before waving you off, watching you both leave.

➵ Toru was amazing the whole time, purring to you and letting you crush his hand (Yes. It was his spiking hand as he was going on paternity leave and had the time to heal. Plus, nothing would ever top his family).

➵ When it came time to push, he was encouraging in every sense of the word, coaching you through the entire thing.

➵ He brushed off every snap you sent his way, every angry word and vile insult spat his way. He didn’t know what you were going through, just that it was painful and taxing on every part of your being.

➵ Mentally, physically, and he was not about to start a fight with you.

___

➵ When your son was finally handed to Toru, he cried. He’s cried a lot in his life, most in front of you, but he would always cry when it came to his family.

➵ His son was just as small as Akemi was when she was born, but just as precious.

➵ His face was squishy and chubby—and cone shaped—but he was adorable and you both absolutely loved him.

➵ When Akemi got to meet him, she also cried. She loved her brother the moment they met, which you and Toru were forever grateful for, and would refuse to go more then ten feet away from him.

➵ You ended up naming him Hiroshi, which Akemi had been trying to pronounce for as long as she’d known it.

➵ Your little family was beautiful, and Toru was thankful for you, giving him his two bundles of absolute joy, and your love.

➵ He was entranced with you from the moment he met you and never knew his life would lead to this. He wouldn’t change it even if he had the chance.

➵ In case you were wondering, your son ended up looking exactly like his sister and your husband. Seems the Oikawa genes run long and true.

#alpha/beta/omega #alpha oikawa #alpha/beta/omega AU #alpha/beta/omega verse #A/B/O verse #a/b/o #haikyuu!!#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu omegaverse #a/b/o haikyuu #alpha toru #alpha toru oikawa #alpha toru oikawa x omega reader #alpha oikawa x reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa x you #custard writes #this is so wholesome #dad! Oikawa x Mom! Reader

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the-infamous-coat-of-baron-zemo · 3 years

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Fall Into You | Laszlo Kreizler x Reader

Alright my friends. Here is my latest piece of insanity.

It is completely raw and unedited. So, if there are a ton of mistakes, I apologize in advance.

What a whirlwind thing this was. I literally only planned to write the last little bit at the end, that was the entire premise and then 7000 more words came along with it.

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This is a partial crossover fic.

TFATWS | The Alienist | Dr. Strange | Loki | universe all mushed together in bits and pieces.

But mostly The Alienist.

Hopefully the characterizations feel okay. Dr. Kreizler and John Moore can be a bit tricky to write and I've never written them before. So, please bear with me on this.

Buckle up. It's going to be a doozy. Kinda.

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Word Count: 6,900 - ish

What happens when you wind up 124 years into the past and meet a relative of Baron Helmut Zemo's?

A lot.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It was early evening and you were perched on one of Dr. Kreizler's fine couches, in front of the fireplace, reading a book.

You were waiting for Stevie to drop by and drag you to some musical street performance not terribly far from Dr. Kreizler's residence. Normally, you would have stayed hidden indoors, but you took a liking to the kid when you first met him, and decided you couldn't let him down.

Hopefully Stevie wouldn't drag you out too long, otherwise Dr. Kreizler would start to worry. Although, he would never outright admit to it, but it was the subtle things he did that indicated his concern. Or perhaps it was annoyance. That wouldn't surprise you either. You were loud and very talkative. He'd probably grateful to have to leave his house; so he can finally get some peace and quiet.

Dr. Kreizler always kept to himself and rarely made a display of his feelings to anyone, but you were a good friend of his in the short time you had come to know him. So, you got little peeks into what lay hidden away.

He was gracious enough to allow you stay in his home until you could figure out a way to get back to your own time. One minute you were talking to Wong inside Dr. Strange's sanctum in New York, and the next a portal opened up underneath you and you were falling.

After travelling through an empty void that seemed to go on forever, you finally exited through the other side, which landed you in front of a police precinct. You had looked around after picking yourself up and realized you were in quite the pickle. It didn't take a genius to figure out that this was not your New York.

People were starting to stare at as you took in your surroundings. You initially thought it was because you had randomly fallen out of the sky, but realization had dawned on you; it was because of your clothing.

Ah, yes. You suppose compared to what all the other women were wearing, you were a sight to behold. Jeans, a forest green blouse, and short brown leather jacket, would draw some attention, when all the other women were dressed so conservatively in dresses. You laughed nervously backing away from the small crowd on the sidewalk. You calmly but quickly darted over to a newsie holding up a paper for sale.

You paid the kid a dollar and snatched the paper out of his hand. Not paying attention in the least to his shouts of joy on making so much off of one measly paper, but you were too focused on finding out what time period you were in.

You caught the date at the top of the newspaper: April 1st, 1897.

April Fool's Day.

Typical, something like this would happen to you. Joke's on them, as someone is going to have a hell of time trying to figure out where you went. You're quite sure Wong was trying to sort through what happened and had already calling Strange.

Well, you hope he had.

You put down the paper and tried to think of what to do, but a small crowd of people were still stopped and whispering to each other, pointing in your general direction.

One man was gesturing in your direction and started shouting, but not at you.

"Hey Kreizler, this one looks like a crazy. Should probably haul her off to Bellevue!"

You raised your eyebrow at the man, but didn't say anything, instead choosing to turn and see who he was yelling at.

A very well dressed man wearing a bowler hat was walking down the steps of the police precinct in a rushed sort of manner. He had a cane with him, and it appeared his right arm was tucked against his body as if protecting it. A few steps behind him there was another man darting to catch up with him, also well dressed and carrying what seemed to be a sketchbook.

The guy on the street had yelled at the gentleman in the bowler hat again, which you had assumed at this point was Dr. Kreizler. As the two men reached the bottom of the steps and were about to step into their carriage, the incessant yelling had managed to grab Kreizler's attention. At least it seemed so, because the man with the cane had paused and turned his attention towards the direction of the yelling.

You could see from his body language he wasn't all that interested, but when his eye-line landed on you, he backed away from getting inside.

The other gentleman that was accompanying him, the one with the sketchbook, said something to him, but Dr. Kreizler just waved him off as he started to walk over to you.

Great.

You look over to the rude gentleman that had now drawn even more attention to you and gave him an unappreciative stare.

You steeled yourself, ready for whatever this stranger was going to say to you, but your guard had dropped slightly upon getting a better look at his face.

No way.

This was not possible.

The man that had come over to you was the spitting image of one genius, criminal mastermind and general pain in your ass, you knew all too well. One who's currently locked up in The Raft.

If it wasn't for the beard, you'd swear you were looking at Baron Helmut Zemo.

As Dr. Kreizler stopped a few feet from you, he tilted his head to the side and eyed you warily, but not unkindly.

That head tilt, a family trait for sure. Zemo had to be some distant relative of this man in some way, there's no chance they aren't with how closely the two resemble each other. She'd have to make a trip to The Raft and ask him about it sometime, if she ever got back home.

"My dear, you seem out of sorts. Are you alright?" the man inquired, gazing at the small gathering of people and then back to you.

"I kinda stick out like a sore thumb, yeah?" You laughed as you answer his question, peering down at your outfit.

"Quite," he replied.

You saw while he may be cautious around you, you've seem to grab his interest with the scrutiny and intensity of his gaze.

"If I may introduce myself, my name is Doctor Laszlo Kreizler," the gentleman stated.

Ah, so this was indeed the man who was being called out from the street. You noticed he didn't extend his hand in greeting, but then again perhaps it wasn't a pertinent gesture for the time period either. So, you didn't take offense to it.

Your eyeline moved behind Dr. Kreizler and could see his friend at the carriage watching with interest, but also growing impatience.

You gave a kind smile as you introduced yourself and added, "Thank you for humoring the nosy man over there, but I'm not in need of a doctor. I'm terribly sorry for interrupting your day."

"Not in the least. And I may be a doctor, but I am an alienist more specifically," Kreizler explained.

Your eyebrows shot into your forehead and then contemplated his title. An alienist? Where had you heard that before? If you remembered correctly, an alienist was someone who assessed individuals for competence?

Oh.

The shouty man had mentioned Bellevue. Okay, now you understood.

"An alienist! That term is...." you paused trying to think of a better way to phrase you response. "The term is outdated where I'm from. Instead we simply acknowledge your specific doctorate profession as psychologists, since the very definition of what you do is to study the mind and behavior of individuals," you answered, satisfied with your explanation.

"Outdated. How intriguing. Perhaps we could continue this conversation away from prying eyes and gossipy busy-bodies?" Kreizler asked.

You wouldn't be able to read it on his face, but you can tell you've piqued his interest even more so now with his body language. And his eyes had this sparkle in them as you spoke of his profession so specifically.

Though you felt you could trust this man, you couldn't take the chance that he might, in fact, lure you into his carriage and ship you off to the nearest mental institution, such as Bellevue Hospital.

You'd be lying if you weren't equally intrigued by this enigma of a man standing before you. The resemblance to Baron Zemo was uncanny, and that alone made you want to find out more about him; however, Zemo was not to be trusted as far as you could throw him. Though he did have his moments. You'd give him some credit. Doesn't mean distrustful behavior runs in the family, but it also could. It was a difficult decision.

Your eyes narrowed assessing Dr. Kreizler as you came to decision.

"Shouldn't you give me a mental health assessment test before asking a complete stranger to travel off to who knows where with you? Why shouldn't I be suspicious you aren't going to drop me off at the nearest institute? No offense," you replied warily.

"Thank you!" the man with the sketchbook at the carriage shouted at both you and Dr. Kreizler, clearly in agreement with your answer.

You snickered at his sarcastic reply, but attempted to cover your ever growing smile by coughing.

The corner of Dr. Kreizler's mouth ticked up in a smile as well.

"No my dear, if anything you've just proven you're at least slightly more sane than my counterpart, Mr. John Moore," Dr. Kreizler shook his head and jutted his thumb behind him.

"Heard that Laszlo!" Moore responded with indignation.

"That was the point John," Dr. Kreizler answered back with dry wit.

Yeah, she liked him already.

"Shall we?" Kreizler turned slightly to gesture to his carriage.

You sighed internally. Why the hell not? You had nothing better to do and no idea what your next move should be trying to get home. Dr. Kreizler would no doubt be curious about your attire and that alone with most likely bring up a slew of never ending questions. You'd have to be careful how to explain your situation and make sure what you revealed was limited, but truthful. You wanted to tell him the truth about where you were from, but you needed to word it in a way that doesn't make you out to be a crazy person, but present the information with facts and evidence that Dr. Kreizler could not refute. Luckily you had some tech with you that could prove your point rather efficiently should the need arise you convince him of what time period you come from in the future. 124 years it a length period of time. It would be difficult for anyone to accept your explanation, but Dr. Kreizler seemed to be different. Let's hope you aren't wrong about him.

"I accept your offer Dr. Kreizler, thank you," you spoke kindly.

You were formally introduced to Mr. Moore and to Stevie before getting in the carriage. Mr. Moore seemed uneasy, but went along with Dr. Kreizler's acceptance of you. He was a trusting friend of his, you could tell right away. And something told you, Dr. Kreizler was a tough nut to crack and didn't seem to be the type of person who might have very many. Only a close few.

"What made you decide to take Dr. Kreizler up on his offer so quickly," Moore asked standing outside the carriage as Stevie was getting the horses ready.

Dr. Kreizler had held the door open for you and waited patiently.

You looked at Dr. Kreizler before turning back to Mr. Moore, "You mean besides his sparkling personality?" you winked and got in the carriage.

John leaned into Kreizler before adjusting his hold on his sketchbook and climbing into the carriage himself.

"Oh, well I like her already Laszlo," he grinned incessantly and gave Kreizler a clap on the back.

You saw Dr. Kreizler bend his head down in amused exasperation as a small huff of laughter sounded with the movement. He sighed somewhat dramatically before getting in the carriage and closing the door.

"You know, I've never actually ridden in one of these before," you say slightly awed.

Both Moore and Kreizler gave you confusing looks before Dr. Kreizler used his cane to tap on the rear enclosure signaling Stevie to head home.

Home. Well, this should be interesting indeed.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

You closed your book with a snap and slumped into the couch you were perched on. It had been six months, since that day. Six months, you've been trapped in this pocket of 1897.

You had reflected back on how well John and Dr. Kreizler had taken the explanation you were from the future. As you told your story, your only requirement was that they wait until the very end before asking any questions. That gave you the chance to be very methodical about how you explained the future and how it was you ended up in 1897, which to be fair, you don't know exactly how that portal opened still, but magic was involved to say the very least.

It was oddly reminiscent of when Loki used the space stone, which gave her pause. All the infinity stones had been destroyed, and yet you knew that there was an errant 2012 Loki running around the universe with one. It is plausible, he could factor into this, but how or why you, you have no idea.

After you had explained your fanatical circumstance, to help prove you weren't absolutely off your rocker and have Dr. Kreizler change his mind about you, you showed them your phone.

Yes, there may not be any service available, but you could still access all your photos and videos and holographic imagery, etc. That was what allowed John and Dr. Kreizler to accept your story; paired with your unique clothes; they had a surprisingly open mind. John had gaped like a fish for a good 10 minutes before Dr. Kreizler told him to get over it already. John was somewhat outraged that he wasn't more shocked by your existence. But like all things, Dr. Kreizler took everything in stride, which was quite a relief to you. He was incredibly understanding and offered a room in his home to you until you were able to get back to your own time. You made a promise to Dr. Kreizler that you would never lie to him, about anything. It was the least you could do since he opened up his home and essentially part of his life to you.

You understood why he was an expert in his field. His patience and intellect allowed him to be open-minded and grasp concepts others word merely scoff at. However, there was another side to that coin; he was also closed off, and could at times, be calculating and manipulative. Though, none of these traits were used in any nefarious manners, they were there all the same.

He reminded you of Zemo to be sure in this regard. Some personality traits apparently do get passed down through the generations. In some ways, after meeting Dr. Kreizler, you felt you knew Helmut Zemo a bit better. And somehow, you missed him. Not that you were ever particularly close to him, but the time you spent with him in Latvia with Sam and Bucky forever altered your opinion of him.

So while you've been living at Dr. Kreizler's residence, in your spare time, you had been working different avenues of how to achieve ways to get home. You couldn't just solely rely on your friends to get you out of this mess. So, while Dr. Kreizler was at work, you enlisted the help of Stevie to run down leads of potential scientist and gathering of general information of the time period to help you put together some sort of road map. None had turned out to be very promising.

You had, over time, gotten more acclimated to living in 1897, though you mostly refused to wear the clothing of the time period. John Moore would always comment about how you would draw attention in the public eye, should you dare to go out. But you refused to give in most of the time, saying that 1897 would just have to catch up to your fashion sense, and you weren't about to apologize for it. If you were going to be stuck here, you were going to be stuck here, comfortably. You fondly remember Dr. Kreizler's reaction. He seemed pleased, possibly proud of you in that moment. Probably because you had refused to conform to the times, and set your own rules to live by. Not giving in to anyone.

The question lingered, how exactly did you get away with living in this time without having to dress in the clothing of the period? Well, a friend of yours, Scott Lang, had gifted you a device that allowed you to chose one object to shrink and return to it's normal size. So, of course, since you traveled so often with the Sam, Bucky and the other Avengers, you chose your wardrobe. You were just thankful you had it on you already when you got dumped into that portal. So, essentially you had all your clothes with you, making things a bit easier.

Life was not fast paced here, which made things a bit difficult for you. You were used to always being on the go, another crisis to fight through, another area of the world that needed help. But here, here everything was, for the most part, quiet.

It drove you nuts sometimes. Made you antsy. You managed to weasel your way into helping John, Sara and Dr. Kreizler on one of their serial killer cases recently to pass the time. Dr. Kreizler was unhappy at first. You were able to prove your usefulness though with advanced techniques and theories on how to potentially catch the killer in question. Be that as it may, Dr. Kreizler still seemed grumpy, if that were the correct word to use, about you working on the case. You confronted him about it one evening, but he glossed over the whole thing. He was holding back, but what that was, you weren't sure. Maybe he still didn't fully trust you yet. It was a fair assumption, but he was always so hard to read. Though you've managed to get a few good laughs out of him from time to time. Those were the days that really made you smile. Seeing him happy, as most of the time he was always so guarded. It made you feel like you and Dr. Kreizler shared this little secret when no one else was around.

Dr. Kreizler let himself relax ever so slightly around you, but it was far and fleeting. On rare occasions. You savored all those memories and tucked them away. Everyone was so refined and conservative in their mannerisms. You missed just wanting to hug someone. You craved some sort of physical affection, and it was hard, realizing just how different the times were from the future. They weren't terrible by any means, but the social norms of the times had been trying on you, to say the very least. Dr. Kreizler, ever astute, had picked up on this.

He had been gracious enough to offer himself if you ever needed to hug someone. This had been roughly 4 months into your stay at Dr. Kreizler's. You both had gotten more comfortable around the other, and even had a routine of sorts. You had thanked him for his offer, and told him you would not abuse the privilege he had bestowed on you.

Something told her there was more to it, but you hadn't dwelled on it, you were simply appreciative of his friendship.

However more recently, it was more than just friendship you felt. You kept squashing your feelings down, telling yourself this was the worst possible time to develop feelings for someone. Especially someone like Dr. Kreizler. There would never be a happy ending. At some point, you would return home, and that would be that. But there was that nagging sensation in the back of your mind, reminding you, you might not ever get back home. You tried to reason to yourself that you were possibly transferring some of your fondness of Zemo to Dr. Kreizler because of how he reminds you of him. But then you were just lying to yourself. Dr. Kreizler was a person all on his own and one of a kind. You knew better, you were just fighting yourself tooth and nail to live in denial a bit longer.

Footsteps from the kitchen were headed in your direction knocking you out of your musings.

You twisted on the couch to see Dr. Kreizler had returned home from his institute.

"Dr. Kreizler! Good evening," you voiced into the low lit parlor room.

"Good evening to you as well, I trust your day was fruitful?" Dr. Kreizler inquired, coming to rest on the opposite end of the couch.

"It was, thank you. I was somewhat restless earlier, so I took it upon myself to work on the cryptogram the killer left his last victim, with the hopes of figuring out his next location before he strikes," you sheepishly stated.

Dr. Kreizler ruefully smiled at you and shook his head. At one time, he might have gotten upset, but he had been taking your antics more in stride, and you managed to be helpful providing much needed information. So, he'd act unhappy, but silently was thrilled.

"And did you uncover anything useful?" Kreizler queried, he got up from his seat and walked over to the chalk board.

"Not completely, I believe I've broken the code word and the book that the killer has been using to write his cryptograms, but I have yet to comb through all the evidence to gather the page numbers, line and word number to crack the full message. I planned on working on it when I got back with Stevie later this evening," you happily expressed while fidgeting with the watch on your wrist.

"Impressive work. And what book has our killer been using?" Kreizler asked, eyes still going over the work on the board.

"Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. You'd think we could have figured that one out sooner given our killer's eclectic methods of murdering people," you answered sarcastically.

Dr. Kreizler bent his knees in utter annoyance, "Of course it is. Of course. How ridiculous to have missed such an obvious choice."

You smiled knowingly. He was irritated he hadn't figured it out sooner.

A companionable silence continued for a few minutes after his outburst.

Dr. Kreizler was still staring at the board with mild interest when he spoke next, "May I ask you a personal question?"

You had just reached over to place the book on the coffee table next to you when he asked his question and you froze mid motion.

Dr. Kreizler generally didn't push too much into your personal life, so this was somewhat out of left field for him. Never-the-less, you recovered after a beat and placed the book on the table.

"Of-of course Dr. Kreizler. I told you I would always be truthful with you regarding anything. Please, go ahead," you answered, motioning for him to continue.

"Why do you always regard me as Dr. Kreizler and not by my first name?" he questioned softly, almost hesitantly.

This was not the question you thought he would ask. There were a million questions he could have chose, but it was this one he went with.

This really was personal.

You glanced down at your hands sitting in your lap as you pondered how to answer his questions. You could lie about it, and he'd be none the wiser, but it's not who you are. And you promised.

Dr. Kreizler went on to further express his inquiry with a bit more confidence, "You call John Moore by his first name and the same with Ms. Howard, including our other friends we work with, but not me. Why?"

You opened your mouth to answer him when the front door slammed open and Stevie came barging in.

"You ready?" he exclaimed loudly. Stevie was clearly excited at the prospect of showing off his musical talent. "Oh, excuse me Dr. Kreizler, I didn't realize you'd gotten home yet. Thought you were working late," Stevie took off his hat and looked sheepish as he apologized for the disruption in his home.

You sighed. This was your saving grace. You could probably make an excuse and make a run for it with Stevie. You mulled over what to do, battling with the decision.

"Hey Stevie. Nice to see you too! Go on outside, I'll be right there. I just need to put my coat on," you laugh at his enthusiasm.

He nodded at you and dashed back down the hallway and out the door. You could hear one last shout as he exited, "Okay, but don't be too long, we're going to be late!"

Dr. Kreizler gave a look of displeasure at Stevie's unrefined outburst, but didn't say anything as he knows his antics all too well from over the years.

You stood up grabbing Dr. Kreizler's attention.

"Walk me to the door?" you ask, jutting your head in the direction of where your coat hangs.

"Do you plan on providing me with an answer?" he kindly jabbed as he nodded his agreement to follow you out.

You outwardly sighed, trying to figure out how to best answer his question. As you both walked to the front door, you start to answer him.

"Okay, so I address you as Dr. Kreizler 33% of the time, because you deserve the respect that comes with that title. You went to school for many years, and you earned it. So, it's only fair to address you as such," you tell him confidently.

A completely reasonable and partial explanation, you thought.

You both reached the front door, and you grabbed your jacket. Dr. Kreizler, the gentleman that he is, assisted you in putting your coat on. You gave yourself a once over in the mirror, making sure you looked okay before heading out.

You caught Dr. Kreizler staring at you in the mirror as you adjusted a stray hair that had fallen onto your face.

"You look lovely," he quietly voiced.

You turned to face him as he had opened the door for you and stepped outside.

"Thank you," you said, a bit bashful by his sudden compliment.

His expression had gotten softer and his eyes were glowing in the evening lit night.

Your resolve was crumbling even more so now.

"And the other 67%?" Kreizler softly spoke, head cocked to the side.

"Hey - Miss! We need to be going!" Stevie cried.

You turned to Stevie and hollered, "One mo, Stevie! Don't lose your head!"

"I'm sorry I have to go otherwise Stevie is going to have a coronary," you apologized to Dr. Kreizler.

You walked down a few steps, but stopped. You couldn't not answer him.

You go up a step but not completely back to where you where standing in front of Dr. Kreizler. You inhaled a deep breath and exhaled before continuing, looking up to see Dr. Kreizler eyeing you with slight confusion and anticipation with your hesitance to answer his question in full.

"And the other 67% of the time, I call you Dr. Kreizler because..because," you drifted off closing your eyes. You open them again with quiet resolve shining through, finding your confidence. You take another step up to now stand just a foot away from where Dr. Kreizler was.

"Because, I love you Laszlo. And I use your professional title as a barrier, to - to remind myself I have boundaries. It's just easier to separate you this way or well, to keep myself living in denial," you quietly and defeatedly said, laying it all out for him.

You wanted to open your mouth to say something else to him, to let him know it was okay he didn't feel the same way, but you could never quite form the words that needed to come out.

The shock was written clearly on his face. You had completely gob-smacked this man. His eyes had widened considerably and his jaw had gone slack from your answer.

But he never said anything back. You weren't expecting him to.

So instead, you did what you did best. Ran.

"You've got your answer. I-I really have to go now, I'll see you later," you stuttered out, suddenly drained from your revelation.

You took one last glance at Dr. Kreizler before making a mad dash for it with Stevie.

You were gone before Dr. Kreizler recovered from what just happened. And you never got to see the expression on his face after.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

#the alienist #laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler x reader #helmut zemo x reader #tfatws #helmut zemo #mcu fic #crossover #my writing

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luckysevenwrites · 3 years

Text

Who’s your bias?

Haechan finds himself in the hospital waiting to get an x-ray after hurting himself during a warm up. While his mind is filled with worries about his leg, he’s able to find some distraction in you, the x-ray tech who is an intern. Haechan didn’t think he would find anything to smile about while getting an x-ray but you prove him wrong.

Part of the long term couples series

Sitting in the waiting room waiting to be taken back to get his x-ray Haechan couldn’t believe that he was here. Who would have thought warming up to perform would lead to him twisting his leg wrong and not being able to walk. Glaring down at his traitorous leg he hoped that nothing was broken. He didn’t want to miss any more performances than the one he is already missing. He feels like he is letting the group down. Even though all of them assured him that it was fine and that they were more concerned with him being okay.

Still, he couldn’t stop the guilt from forming. Leaning his head back he closes his eyes and lets out a sigh. His manager next to him glances over at him and assures him that it won’t be long now. That they’ll know the results soon and he’ll be back with the rest of his members. He wants that to be, his gut though is telling him that its more serious than what everyone is hoping for. Eventually a nurse comes in and wheels him into a room to get his x-ray done.

“Hi there Haechan, I’m Dr. Kim and this is my intern Y/n, Y/l/n do you mind if they join us today,” Haechan shakes his head no. He could care less who is performing the x-ray he just wants to know how bad it is and how long he isn’t going to be able to perform.

“Okay let’s get you onto the table.” Dr. Kim nods for the nurse to push him towards the table. You follow behind her and together you help Haechan onto the table and get him in the correct position. It’s as you’re placing a pillow under his head that you first talk to him.

“Try not to stress too much about it. Even if something is broken, you’re young and you’ll heal fast.” Haechan gives you a weak smile. He appreciates that you are trying to make him feel better.

“For my line of work, it would be better if I didn’t have a broken bone.” He admits to you as you continue to adjust him until he is just right.

You pause by his hip and lean against the table. Studying him Haechan wonders what you are thinking and why you are looking at him like that. Like you want to scold him but also comfort him. He’s not sure how he feels about you looking at him like that.

“If your fans are true fans, they’ll still be there after you heal and the ones who aren’t then they weren’t real fans at all. And from what I’ve heard your members will be there to support you through all of this.”

“You know who I am?” Haechan sits up a little causing you to huff at him because you now have to readjust him. You gently push him back down.

“Of course, I do. They told us who was coming in and we had to sign a bunch of paperwork saying that we wouldn’t say anything to anyone about you being here. Also, I’m a fan of all of you,” Haechan notices how you won’t meet his eye while you admit that part and he wants to tease you but you disappear behind the door, and he hears Dr. Kim over the intercom telling him what they are going to for x-rays.

Closing his eyes Haechan tries to think positive. He can hear clicking every once and a while from the machine and before he knows it you are walking back out and having him sit up so you can help him back into the wheelchair. Placing your one arm around his waist, the other holding onto his bicep Haechan cannot stop his mischievous mind and he turns towards you bringing your faces within an inch of one another.

“Tell me Dr. Y/l/n who is your bias,” Haechan almost loses it with how wide your eyes get. He somehow manages to keep a straight face while he waits for your answer.

“Let’s get you into your wheelchair so you can find out your results,” you tell him instead and start to pull on him. Reluctantly he lets you move him into the chair but before you can get behind him to push him back to his exam room he grabs onto your hand and looks up at you with what he hopes is his best puppy dog eyes.

“Please tell me. It would make me happy to know,” he whines hoping that you’ll give into him and for a moment he thinks your about when you start to lean in towards him.

“My bias,” you whisper, and he nods his head encouraging you on, “is someone in NCT 127.”

With that you straighten up and move behind him to start pushing him back to his exam room. Haechan throws his head back and whines. Calling you unfair and that it’s wrong to torture patients that are already in pain. You just ignore him but he’s almost positive that you laugh at one point during his rambling.

Rolling him into the exam room you turn him around in his chair, so he is facing the door. You lock his wheels in place and give a nod to his manager who has been sitting in one of the chairs waiting for Haechan to return. Haechan continues to pout, and his manager raises an eyebrow at him, but he just ignores him. He really doesn’t care who you bias but now that you won’t tell him he has to know. It’s like those do not touch signs, once he sees them, he just has to touch the thing he’s not supposed to. Now he needs to know who you bias.

“Is it Johnny Hyung?” Haechan says before you have a chance to leave. You look over your shoulder at him and laugh.

“I’m not telling you,” With that you turn around and walk out of the room. Haechan crosses his arms over his chest and starts to make a mental list in his head of who you could bias. You give off more of a vocal vibe than a rapper vibe when it comes to having a bias. Then again maybe you are more of a visual person. Haechan isn’t sure how long he has been analyzing who you could possibly bias, but you and Dr. Kim are walking in with his results.

“I have good news and bad news,” Dr. Kim announces. Haechan looks over at you and you give him a reassuring smile.

“The good news is that it is only a fracture. The bad news is, you have to stay off your leg and give yourself time to heal. That means no performance,” Haechan really wasn’t sure how it only being a fracture was good news, but he wasn’t about to argue with the doctor.

He let Dr. Kim continue to go on and on about how long he would be out when he should come back for a checkup, and a bunch of other things that Haechan was not paying attention to. All he could think about was that he was out for now, he couldn’t perform and would basically have to lay around all day. And he wasn’t sure if he could do that. If he could just sit around for hours on end, he was going to go insane, especially since everyone else would be off doing things and he would be stuck at the dorm.

Dr. Kim had his manager follow him out so they could get some paperwork taken care of and talk about in more detail what the fracture could mean for his future. You had stayed behind and once the two men had left the room your eyes turn to him, and you walked over, squatted down in front of him and placed your hand on his knee.

“It’ll be okay,” you tell him, “Like I said you are young and healthy. Your bone will heal quickly, and you’ll be back performing before you know it.”

Haechan looks down at the hand you have placed on his knee then back up at you. You quickly remove your hand from his knee and stand up. You look away from him and clear your throat before you look back at him. Haechan can’t stop the smirk that spread across his face. He likes you and he likes seeing you flustered.

“Anyway, you’ll get a cast any special request on colors?” You ask and Haechan considers teasing you, just to see how much he get you riled up. But he figures that you probably are embarrassed enough as it is and instead answers your question.

“I’m thinking red,” he tells you then can’t help himself with his next question, “will you be the first to sign my cast?”

Your eyes widen for a second and again you can’t make eye contact with him. Then your eyes take on a mischievous look and Haechan is rethinking his question. Before he has the chance to take it back a nurse has come in and is wheeling him out to get his cast on. He looks back at you and you give him a wave of your fingers and Haechan has a feeling you are up to no good.

When he returns to his exam room, he has a red cast on his leg, and he finds you sitting in a chair waiting for him with a sharpie in hand. He didn’t think that you would stick around and sign his cast he was only teasing.

“Don’t you have work to do?” Haechan questions.

“I’m off the clock,” you tell him as you stand and make your way over to his cast, “Still want me to sign it?”

“Sure,” Haechan watches as you look over the cast before you settle for a spot on the side of his cast. You lean in and start to write, and he wonders what exactly you are writing because it should take that long to write your name.

When you stand you recap the marker and give Haechan a triumphant smile, “You are all set. We’ll see you in a few weeks. Rest up well Haechan. I’m looking forward to your return.”

With those parting words you walk out as his manager walks in. He gives you a nod as the two of you pass one another. Haechan’s manager then looks at the cast and then burst out into laughter. Haechan furrow his brow wondering what could possibly be so funny.

“Why are you laughing?” Haechan demands as he tries to see what you wrote on his cast, but you put it in a spot that he can’t easily see.

“She wrote ‘my bias is Doyoung’,” his manager chokes out and Haechan groans. He’s going to get you back and now he has something to think about while he’s on bed rest. He’s not going to let you have the last laugh that’s for sure.

#nct imagines #nct reactions #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct oneshot #nct drabbles #nct fanfic #haechan x you #haechan x y/n #haechan x reader #haechan oneshot #haechan drabbles #haechan fluff #haechan imagines #haechan reactions #haechan reaction

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

Text

Day 24, Post #1 by @be11atrixthestrange

Title: I Love Wine Author/Artist: Be11atrixthestrange Pairing: Ron/Hermione Prompt: In Vino Veritas / Songfic (Difficult by Peppermint Ollie) Rating: T Trigger Warning(s) (if any): N/A

(Please note that one lyric has been changed - "Football" is now "Quaffle")

I Love Wine

You can talk to girls who aren't me.

It's fine, no, I said it's fine. It's not like you're just mine

I'm not jealous,

wait...

Are you still mad at me?

When Hermione opens the hospital wing doors late one March evening, she pokes her head into the room to look before entering, scanning for anyone she doesn't want to see.

It's become a habit lately, especially knowing she might run into Ron. A true extrovert, Ron is never alone. It used to be Hermione always glued to his hip, but not anymore. Nowadays, it's Lavender, and Ron hasn't spoken to Hermione in months. Usually, her run-ins with Ron are accidental, but not this time. After nearly losing him to a bottle of mead, she'll do anything to get him back in her life.

As she had assumed, the Hospital Wing is empty save for Ron, who's sprawled out on a twin-sized bed. Madam Pomfrey has left for the night, and it's after visiting hours, so Lavender wouldn't be here anyway. In fact, Hermione shouldn't be, either, but school rules seem less important now.

She approaches Ron, noting that the hospital wing beds are too short for his lanky frame, and his pale, freckled feet dangle off the edge. The blankets don't reach that far, and goosebumps are forming on his skin. He must be cold. She almost reaches out to tug the blanket over his feet but stops herself. It's a loving gesture, but in the wrong way. It's definitely something Mrs. Weasley would do, and the last thing she wants to be associated with is his mother. Seeing him with another girl has made at least one thing crystal clear — her feelings for Ron are far from familial.

Hermione's gaze travels from Ron's feet to his head, cocked to the side, halfway on a pillow. His neck is bent, his mouth open, and each exhale brings a faint, raspy snore. His entire positioning looks so awkward. She tries to take comfort in the rise and fall of his chest, proof that he's alive, but even still, she can't seem to shake the fear that she's lost him forever.

What if she has? Just because he's alive doesn't mean he'll want her back in his life, not after the way she's treated him. He clearly doesn't need her; he has Lavender. Hermione's jaw tightens at the thought of her pretty, flirty, popular roommate, Ron's girlfriend. Four months of insisting that she's fine with their relationship, and no, she's not jealous have caught up to her. Her throat tightens, and her eyes sting, threatening to cry. Again.

Ron's breathing remains steady, his eyes locked shut, and it seems unlikely that he'll wake up. It was probably a stupid idea to come; he needs his rest. If she wakes him, he might be even angrier at her.

But fresh on her mind is the memory of his first moment of consciousness after being poisoned. The words that slipped from his mouth…

Er-my-nee.

He was dazed and confused, and hardly aware of what he was saying. But it had to mean something, right?

Hermione takes a seat in the chair next to his bed. She'll wait just a few moments to see if he wakes. It would be worth it to hear him say her name again.

She glances toward her bookbag, a bulging puddle of canvas on the floor. Wedged between her quill set and a stack of textbooks is a fresh bottle of wine, a gift from Dobby, plucked right from the kitchen. The bottle's nose pokes out of the top of her bag. Hermione distinctly remembers her anxious trip to the Hospital Wing as she tried to keep the bottle hidden under her arm, moving slowly and cautiously to prevent the liquid from sloshing around and alerting the authorities to her contraband. She could have lost her Prefects' badge if she had been caught with it. Even though it was offered to her by a Hogwarts employee, she should have denied it. Dobby isn't exactly keen on school rules. Or aware of them, for that matter.

And why would Ron want to drink wine when he was almost killed by a bottle of mead? She hadn't been thinking straight. She should just go back to the common room...

An abrupt snore pulls Hermione from her thoughts. It's followed by silence, and Hermione looks tentatively at Ron's face to see if he's woken up. His eyes are still closed, and his mouth agape, a glistening river of drool runs down his chin. She smiles— years ago, she would have thought it was gross, but now, she wouldn't hesitate to wipe it off with her thumb. Oh, how things change.

She should stop staring. How would he react to know someone was watching him sleep?

Unless he's used to it. The knot in her stomach coils further at the thought of Lavender and Ron. Has she ever watched him sleep? They're always kissing in the corridor, entangled on the common room sofa, tugging each other down the hallway in search of empty classrooms. She probably has.

Hermione reaches for the bottle of wine in her bag, if only for a label to read, something to get her mind off of Lavender sharing Ron's bed, giggling as he snores, wiping away a trail of saliva with her thumb, or even worse, her lips.

"Hermione?"

Ron's raspy voice pulls her back, and her cheeks sting with heat. It's not the drowsy, longing, 'Er-My-Nee' from before. This time his tone conveys confusion. Disapproval. He's probably wondering why she's here instead of Lavender.

She chances a smile at him, and her breath catches in her throat at the sight of his piercing blue eyes.

"Hi, Ron," she says, forcing a cheerful, optimistic tone. "I—I brought us some wine."

Ron's eyes narrow as he studies her. He's still mad at her, isn't he? He's going to tell her to leave and go get Lavender instead. She clutches the bottle tighter when it begins to slip through her sweating palms.

Then, unexpectedly, a grin breaks across Ron's face, and Hermione exhales the breath she didn't know she was holding.

"As long as it's not mead."

Let's stay in tonight. Just you and me and a bottle of wine

We can talk about our feelings; everything will be just fine

"I promise it's not mead!" she says, almost too eagerly.

"Good. Don't think I can ever drink mead again! Hand it here?" Ron reaches for the wine.

He's smiling, looking almost giddy to see her. It doesn't make sense. He's so relaxed, as though they haven't spent the last four months fighting. How?

Ron pops the cork with a nonverbal spell, and Hermione lifts an eyebrow at his wandwork. Has she ever complimented him on his charms ability? She makes a mental note to do so more often — considering that they become friends again, of course.

Ron brings the tip of the bottle to his mouth and takes a long swig. Hermione's cheeks redden at the sight, and she hopes he doesn't notice.

He swallows a mouthful of wine with a heavy gulp and hands the bottle back to Hermione.

"You don't mind sharing?"

"Why not? It's just spit."

She prickles at his response. The Ron she knew, pre-Lavender, wouldn't have had such a nonchalant attitude toward spit. Sharing a bit of saliva must be no big deal to him anymore. Great.

Hoping her blatant jealousy isn't written all over her face, Hermione takes a sip, disappointed by its bland, almost metallic taste. She was hoping she'd be able to taste him.

But the wine warms her right up. Hermione doesn't drink often, never, really, and she knows she'll feel the effects quickly. Maybe too quickly.

"So. We have a lot to talk about," says Ron, as soon as she finishes her sip.

Or maybe, not quickly enough.

She nods and looks down at her hands. He's looking down too — she doesn't have to watch him to know that his eyes aren't on her anymore.

A few moments pass in silence, and Hermione figures she'll have to speak up first. How much does she have to explain? How much should she reveal? It seems like the best possible time to share, to tell him everything she almost said over the last four months. Everything she should have said before. They're alone here, why not clear the air?

She takes a deep breath. "I asked you to Slughorn's party as my date, and you said yes."

Ron's scoff confirms what she feared — her statement came off as an accusation. She hadn't meant it that way.

"I know that now," he says.

"But you didn't before?"

"No," he says, reaching for the bottle. "You're pretty subtle. Until you're not." He flashes his forearms at her, still covered with scars from her canary attack.

Her eyes sting with tears again, and she's suddenly sick to her stomach. "I shouldn't have set those birds on you."

"True. You shouldn't have."

No 'sorry's' or 'I forgive you's', just facts, not feelings. It's how they've always communicated, and it's still infuriating.

With a deep breath, Hermione continues, "I was angry at you for kissing Lavender."

A feeling. Not a fact. Maybe he'll follow suit.

"Why?"

Is he really going to make her say it?

"Because I was jealous, Ron. And jealousy makes people do irrational things."

"Well, don't do it again."

Is he asking her not to set birds on him again? "I won't! If you don't—"

She snaps her mouth shut. She almost told him not to kiss Lavender again. She can't ask that of him.

"Don't what?"

"Nothing," she says hastily, burying her expression with another sip of wine.

She watches as a smug smile spreads across Ron's face. "You were going to ask me not to kiss Lavender again, weren't you?"

Hermione keeps her mouth shut and passes the bottle back to him.

"You know it's not fair to ask that."

"I didn't ask that," she says, her jaw stiff. "I stopped myself."

He raises an eyebrow at her. "So you're still jealous?"

"Ron, stop." He's just gloating now. "Let's not talk about Lavender. I just want to be friends again. I'm not asking for anything more."

"Don't you want to know why I kissed her?"

"No—"

"Because I was also jealous."

His answer hits her like a brick. He was jealous. Does that mean…?

"Why were you jealous?"

That's until we start throwing knives. It's amazing how time flies.

Hermione waits for Ron to answer, watching patiently as his cheeks turn crimson. His eyes flit between her and the bottle.

"I was jealous because Ginny said you snogged Krum."

He averts his gaze when he speaks.

"She did?" asks Hermione. "That was two years ago."

Ron shrugs. "Made me jealous."

"So that's why you kissed Lavender?"

Ron nods.

"Even though I had just asked you out on a date?"

"Hermione, I didn't know you meant it as a date! I assumed it was a pity invite."

"You should have talked to me!" she protests. "I was completely blindsided."

"I should have told you how I felt?"

"Yes!"

"Why? You didn't! You just hinted at it, then fucking attacked me with birds for misreading your nonexistent signals!"

Hermione was about to respond, but his retort snaps her mouth shut. He's right. It doesn't matter who started it, but she's the one who got violent. As she searches for a response, their argument pauses, and the air thickens with tension. She can feel Ron's eyes boring into her again, and she pointedly looks away. Why can't she just swallow her pride and say she's sorry?

It's not that easy.

"Maybe I'm better off with Lavender," he says, barely an audible whisper. "She treats me well."

Hermione's heart sinks into her stomach, and her eyes water again. She looks away, willing herself not to cry in front of Ron. She's pushing him away again, and she knows it. His implication cuts deep — he deserves someone who treats him well, and Hermione doesn't.

She can change that; he just has to trust her. But that's a lot to ask, isn't it?

"You're right. Maybe you are better off with her," she says, dejected.

'Cause you're more difficult than trying to fold a fitted sheet

And I'm more difficult than trying to throw a quaffle (at least for me)

You know without you I'd be lost

To her surprise, he grins again. "So that's what you want? For me to stay with Lavender."

Does he really need her to answer?

He hands her the wine, and she stares at it, wondering if another sip would benefit her. She's already feeling the effects.

Eh, why not? She takes another generous sip, enjoying its warm trail down her throat.

"It's a simple question, Hermione."

"Is that what you want?" she asks.

He narrows his eyes and smirks at her, a dangerous combination. With Ron, there's a fine line between anger and flirting, or at least, she thought there was. Before Lavender.

But, Lavender's not in the hospital wing drinking wine with Ron. Hermione is.

She bites her lip to keep from grinning.

"No. It's not." He blurts his answer as though the words have been trapped, waiting to escape. His ears turn pink at his admission, and he eyes the wine in accusation. With a shrug, he continues. "You know what I want."

She's buzzing from the wine — the muscles in her face soften, and her pent-up anxiety about the approaching topic seems to melt away. It feels like there's a clump of wriggling flobberworms in her stomach.

At least, she'd be more willing to play dumb if it saves her the heartache of being wrong. Why can't he just say it?

"I think we want the same thing," she says, summoning her Gryffindor courage, "but I want to hear you say it."

Ron lets out a groan. "Is every conversation we have going to be this difficult?"

Cause you're more difficult than peeling onions without crying

Or pulling on freshly washed skinny jeans

No, I'm not lying; I'd be lost without you

Despite his groan, his shoulders are relaxed, he's sporting a goofy grin, and his answer is clear and direct, leaving no room for misinterpretation. Thank Merlin, the wine is hitting him too. "I want you."

I want you. The words are like music to her ears.

"Still?" she asks. "Even after the birds?" If the roles were reversed, she'd definitely be holding a grudge.

"I don't understand it, but yeah. Still."

She reaches for the bottle — she'll need another dose of courage before continuing. Especially since his next question is easy to guess.

"So," he starts, suddenly sheepish, "do you want me too?"

Hermione sets the bottle down between them and tries to mimic his serious stare from before, but she can't stop from smiling. "Yes. Still."

Silence overtakes the space between them, and Hermione can almost taste the tension in the air. What next? Her daydreams never got this far.

"Then why are you still sitting there?" he asks, an eyebrow raised.

He inches to the side and motions to the space between them in clarification.

Oh, she understood.

His invitation is so tempting, and she almost gives in and crawls into the bed with him, but something stops her. Lavender. He's still someone else's boyfriend.

"Because you have a girlfriend."

"I'm not so sure I do anymore."

"What? Why?"

"Do you really need to ask why, Hermione?" At her confused expression, he continues, "or should I call you Er-My-Nee."

"Lavender heard about that?"

Ron nods, and Hermione knows she should feel sorry for her but… she doesn't. Not one bit.

"So?" he repeats, glancing down at the space beside him.

Hermione rises to her feet and crawls onto the bed, very aware that she's holding her breath. The bed is so small that she can't put a few inches of space between them, so she settles against his shoulder. He reaches for her hand, and their fingers intertwine.

"Is this okay?" asks Ron, caressing her hand with his fingers.

"Yes."

It's another moment she's imagined for years — holding Ron's hand. Not in a 'let me help you up' kind of way, but in a loving, flirtatious, non-platonic way. She's surprised by how easy it is; how comfortably she fits there.

Hermione rests her head on Ron's shoulder, and the bottle of wine in his other hand catches her eye. If only they had shared that bottle four months ago, things could be so different. She pushed him away, and he pushed right back. She could have lost him, yet somehow, he's still right here.

The hurt is still here too. She can tell by the way his breath is shallow and anxious, and the stiffness of his arm against hers that he won't kiss her tonight. Even holding hands is clunky, awkward, and almost too much, and definitely too soon. Yet somewhere in all its dysfunction, it's perfect.

You're for me and I'm for you, you know it's true

The best dysfunctional team that this world has ever seen

The bottle is nearly empty — they've kept drinking but stopped talking. She only notices the stark silence between them when she can hear her own breathing and grows self-conscious that he can hear it too.

She opens her mouth to speak just to fill the silence but freezes. Her lips are too loose from the alcohol, and she better not say anything. He doesn't need to know what's really on her mind. Three little words could push him away, and she just got him back.

It's definitely too soon for that truth.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?" she asks.

He lets go of her hand and wraps his free arm around her shoulders, encouraging her to lean more of her weight against him. "I love wine."

Hermione laughs. His tone is playful. Knowing. Her stomach flips when he gently squeezes her shoulder as he says 'wine'. If she were sober, she wouldn't dare read too much into those words. Tomorrow, she'll probably wake up and second guess this whole conversation, but right now?

"I love wine, too."

And I love you

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest platonic #canon fest romantic #submission #romione #ron x hermione

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