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hwaslayer · 4 months

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love you in slow motion (psh) | three.

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist ♡

—summary: seonghwa will go through hell and back for you, as long as he can continue to see that smile on your face. because to him, that smile feels like a rainbow after the rain, thewarmth of the sun on a winter day. because to him, you’re more than just his bestfriend—you’re love. even though everyone seems to see that except you.

—pairing: park seonghwa x f!reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) bestfriends to lovers | fluff, angst, eventual smut

—word count: 9.7k

—chapter warning: cussing/mature language, hints of a kiss (in a dream), feeling slightly hot & bothered by said dream lol, lots of overthinking (i mean lots!), some jealousy, san takes oc out to a casual dindin, ppl reallllly pushing for the oc x hwa agenda lol, some more seonghwa x oc x charli time, mixed signals, theyre both just sooooo scared of each other lol, sleepover!, sorry if i missed anything since i quickly edited to get this up 🫶🏼

—a/n: hi! sorry for the late update hehe hope you enjoy! the next updates might be a bit slower than usual (and as you can guess, my posting schedule is all sorts of messed up now 💀) but i promise i'll get them up asap! <33

You don't know where you're at.

You're standing in the middle of the road, and it's pouring rain. You're drenched, and the only goal you have right now is to get to the house on the opposite end of the street. You start your walk, picking up your pace as much as possible to get out of the rain. However, with every step you take, you find that you aren't actually moving.

Just stuck in place.

You're trying to run now, but the house only seems to be getting further. You're dying to get out of the rain, the wet seeping through your skin; chilling every bone in your body. You feel yourself starting to cry, but nothing is coming out.

Nothing.

You're just stuck.

Suddenly, someone appears out onto the road ahead of you and you stop. You stop in your tracks, but somehow, you aren't afraid. Their figure feels familiar, their aura comforting. He stands tall, his wavy black hair resting beautifully on his head. He sees you and walks over, an umbrella shielding him from the rain.

"Hwa?" You look up when he finally gets in front of you, a small frown forming at the corners of his lips.

"What's wrong, Y/N?" You shake your head and start crying, while Seonghwa throws his coat over your shoulder and brings you close. "Hey, what's going on?"

"I-I couldn't get to the house—" You point down the street.

"Sh, it's okay. I'm here now. Okay? I'm here." He continues to hold you close, despite your damp clothes against his own. His touch his comforting, his hand pressed at the small of your back.

"Where were you?"

"I'm right here with you." He pulls back slightly, hand coming to tilt your chin. "I'm always right here." His thumb gently caresses your chin. Before you know it, his lips are inches away from yours, seconds away from crashing into yours.

And it happens.

Seonghwa presses his lips to yours and you can't describe the feeling running through your body—

This is by far the second, or third dream you've had with Seonghwa recently, and you're not sure what your mind is trying to tell you. But, you're caught off guard when you realize your heart is thumping out of your chest, and there's this weird aching sensation in between your—

"Shit." You gasp, feeling flustered that you're finding your body reacting to Seonghwa in this way. You dig your head into the pillow, groaning at the thought of seeing Seonghwa in a new light.

But, the thought was here. It had made a home in that itty bitty corner of your brain, now on a mission to haunt you forever.

And maybe, just maybe, it was time to finally face it.

You turn onto your back, staring at the ceiling. It's randomly 3:34am in the morning, and you don't seem to be the least bit sleepy. You let out a heavy sigh and pick up your phone, pulling up your call log and almost pressing Hwa's name by instinct.

Pause.

You've always called Seonghwa when you've had a bad dream, when you simply couldn't sleep, when you just needed company; but tonight, you weren't sure what you were gonna call Seonghwa for.

You just know you're longing for him. Specific reasoning unknown.

"Hwa." You kinda whine into the phone, but Seonghwa is too busy moving around in his bed.

"Mmm? Is everything okay?" He groans even though he picks up like he always does— even if he's half-asleep and on the verge of falling back asleep in 0.2 seconds.

"I can't sleep."

"Bad dream or something? Where's Charli?" You hear him mumble against his pillow, but it's still clear enough for you to hear.

"Yaya wanted her tonight." You turn onto your side, letting the phone sit on the edge of your pillow. "And uh, no. I just woke up randomly."

"So.. try shutting your eyes, Y/N." He sighs a bit.

"I can't. Can you stay on the phone with me for at least 5 minutes?"

"I'm here, aren't I? What's gotten you so shaken up?" He finally hears it in your voice, another small whine and a drip of neediness. And for you, Hwa knows that only means two things:

Something bad happened.

Or, something good that you can't make sense of.

"Nothing."

"Okay." He lets it go. "Maybe you should drink melatonin or tea before bed again." He mumbles again.

"Yeah." You lay on your back again, shutting your eyes as you listen to Seonghwa breathe softly through the phone. It isn't long before you feel your eyes getting heavy, immediately finding comfort in Seonghwa's soft snores.

The next morning, Seonghwa vaguely remembers the phone call, and for a second, he thinks it's a dream. But, when he turns over and sees his phone still connected to the call, he smiles to himself as it's his turn to listen to your soft snores.

He's glad you were able to fall back asleep. It normally doesn't take much, but he takes some kind of pride knowing he's always the first thing that comes to mind when you need comfort, safety. He feels something swell in his chest, and he's not sure what to make out of it.

What to do with it.

When he feels confident that you'd be okay, he ends the call and gets himself up for the day— barely ready to face another day of work. He doesn't like when his sleep is interrupted, and truthfully, it does fuck up his mood. Kinda throws him off balance.

But if it's you, he'll sacrifice. Because he just wants you to be okay, to be happy. He's seen you cry and hurt more times than he'd like to admit.

More times than he's seen you smile.

That's all he really cares about.

You.

"Goodmorning grandpa!" Woo smiles at him. "You look tired, what happened?"

"Just had a broken sleep, is all."

"You sure that's it?"

"Mhm." He looks down at Wooyoung with a brow raised before filling up his water bottle. As expected, Wooyoung doesn't let it down easily and Seonghwa should've been better prepared. "What?" Is all he can respond with this early in the morning, while Wooyoung is beaming with energy and smiling all up in his face.

"Dude, just tell me." Wooyoung smirks at him. "It bothers you, huh? You didn't expect San to actually shoot his shot with Y/N."

"I shouldn't have asked." Seonghwa shakes his head. "Can you just.. get out of my face first?" Wooyoung laughs and sits on the edge of the treatment table, feet dangling back and forth while he waits for Hwa to respond.

"So. Does San shooting his shot with Y/N make you angry?"

"Why would it make me angry? If they're happy, then that's all that matters. I can't control her life, and I'm not gonna get in the way of that."

"But, your feelings." Seonghwa pauses and shrugs, continuing to put a few supplies away.

"I'm not gonna be that person."

"I wish you would just tell her." Wooyoung whines a bit. "I love Sannie, but I think we all know what's truly meant to be."

"We don't." Seonghwa sighs. "Anyway, I want them to figure this out. And if it works, then it does. I'll be happy for them. Point blank period."

"It would hurt though, wouldn't it? Because it's Sannie. Not just some random."

"Course it would." Seonghwa mutters lowly, in hopes of Wooyoung not catching on. But, he does. He sadly catches on. As much as he loves his friends, he truly wishes Seonghwa could just be happy. He knows Hwa could find that in the right places had he just looked. But, he also knows true, genuine happiness would be wherever you are. With you.

He hopes he'll see it come to fruition one day.

The more Seonghwa talks about it though, the more it does hurt him. Because one day, he was planning out how to say this to you. How to sort out his feelings, how to be honest. Finally face the fact that after all these years, he's really loved you.

Then the next day, he's having to can it and scrape the entire thing. Throw the whole damn thing in the trash. Because if it's one thing he does, it's put his friends before himself. Even if it meant sacrificing and killing himself in the process. That's just who he is and he'll remain true to it no matter how much it hurts.

But damn, does it fucking hurt.

"It doesn't matter cause it'll blow over eventually." Hwa turns over his shoulder, hearing a few athletes stroll into the training unit. "Done with this?" He looks at Wooyoung with a brow cocked up.

"Yeah." Wooyoung hops off the table and gets himself together, Seonghwa already greeting the athletes as they walk into the room for their sessions.

"What're you doing later?" Hongjoong pops a chocolate almond into his mouth as he lazily lies down on San's bedroom floor, tired from the workout session they just came back from.

"I'm going to dinner with Y/N." San gives him a dimpled, toothless smile as he stands in front of his closet, wondering what to wear for later.

"Oh, right." Hongjoong yawns. "Is it like.. a casual thing, or like a date-date?"

"Uh, I guess casual?"

"Then why are you standing in front of your closet like it's supposed to be a date-date?" Hongjoong peeks from over the edge of his phone. "And why do you look so nervous?" Hongjoong furrows his brows at San wiping his grubby hands on his shorts.

"I'm not!"

"Mhm. I'm calling Seonghwa." Hongjoong snorts.

"Why would you say that?" San whines a bit. "Can you be honest with me? Is this wrong?"

"I thought it was a casual thing!" San groans.

"It is! But I swear, no matter what, I always feel a little guilty because of Hwa."

"You know for the most part, everyone's just teasing, right?"

"Right, but..?"

"But you know how those two are." Hongjoong sits up. "I don't even mean to discourage you because I know Seonghwa would tell you to go for it.. but you and I both know he's had it for her for years."

"Yeaaaah." San elongates his response with a sigh mixed in. "I don't know. I thought I'd just try and see where things go. I'm not gonna lie, I'm curious even though I probably will never amount to Hwa."

"Don't say that, dude." Hongjoong lets out a small chuckle. "It's just their dynamic, how they are. But, it seems to be fine for them both? At the end of the day, I know Seonghwa would just want Y/N to be happy and that's all that matters. Whatever that looks like."

"Has she ever talked about it? I haven't been here so I don't really know what's been going on between them."

"Nah. Quite frankly, it's the elephant in the room that no one wants to address."

"So, they've just been like that? Nothing's actually changed?"

"Nope. Same ol' Y/N and Seonghwa you know."

"Has Hwa dated anyone?"

"I mean, he's messed around but he hasn't really seriously dated anyone since Linh."

"Okay, so awhile." San nods to himself. "Damn, I don't know. Should I try asking her about it? We are catching up, that's really the main point of this."

"Sure?" Hongjoong shrugs. "I doubt she'd say anything though. Babygirl hasn't opened up to anyone about that and I don't think she will. Just go and enjoy your dinner with Y/N. Whatever happens, happens. Seonghwa will be Seonghwa, and he'll be supportive no matter what." San shakes his head.

"Yeah, I guess so. I just feel kinda bad for even having the thought."

"Seriously. It'll be fine. He'd tell you the same thing, I promise." San shrugs, pushing the idea to the back of his mind. The whole point was to mainly have time to catch up alone, though San isn't gonna shy away from the fact that he is curious to see if he'd have a chance with you.

He knows Hwa would be supportive, but it doesn't stop him from feeling bad. He doesn't wanna hurt anyone, especially friends he hasn't seen in years.

"Should I just wear this sweater?" San turns to Hongjoong, flashing a black sweater his way. Hongjoong is quick to give him a look, immediately shaking his head before laying back down onto the ground; hand tucked behind his head.

"Ew, no. Just throw on a shirt and wear that jacket or something." Joong points at San's black leather jacket. "Black jeans, boots. Simple, but nice."

"You're good at this."

"I thought you'd learn a few things in Barcelona over the past years." Joong shuts his eyes and lets out a sigh. "Guess not."

"Fuck you, dude." San scoffs, heading to the bathroom to get ready.

It's another 30 minutes before San is finally satisfied with how he looks, rushing Hongjoong out of the door as he grabs his keys and wallet. He's shooting a text your way to let you know he'll be there in a few minutes, and that he'd like to say hi to Yaya and Charli before taking you away for dinner. You simply chuckle and set your phone aside, walking into a cloud of perfume before dabbing some lip gloss onto your lips.

"Who are you eating with, Titi Y/N?"

"One of my good friends, San. You'll meet him soon. He's going to come say hi."

"San?"

"Mhm."

"Is Uncle Hwa his friend, too?"

"Yes." You look at her and brush her hair back. "They're really good friends."

"Is Uncle Hwa going?"

"No, pea."

"Why not?"

"Uncle Hwa has other things to do, too."

"But, Uncle Hwa is always with you—" At this point, Yaya gently knocks on the door and pokes her head in, calling for Charli to come towards her.

"Chacha, let's go." Yaya takes her hand. "We can watch a movie until Auntie Y/N comes back." Yaya looks at you. "Is Sannie almost here? I want to see him—"

"Well, speaking of him." You look over her shoulder and wave at San, who is shyly smiling and waving back. He digs his hands into his pockets and walks over, a subtle rosy tint settling on the surface of his cheeks. It's been a long time, he feels. He hopes Yaya still remembers him and adores him the same way.

"Oh, my Sannie." She says, cupping his cheeks. "It's been awhile, look at you! Still so, so handsome!" He shyly chuckles.

"Hi Yaya. It's nice to see you, too." She dusts off his jacket and continues to throw small compliments his way.

"Promise me you'll stick around next time. I wanna hear your stories, too. I'm sure it was beautiful in Barcelona."

"Yeah, it was fun! It's a date." He smiles before shifting his attention to you and Charli, who is shyly pressing herself against your legs while quietly observing him. "Is this the cutie I've heard all about? Charli?"

"Sure is." You gently squeeze her shoulders. "Say hi, Chacha. That's Titi Y/N's friend, San."

"Hi." She waves before tucking her face into your legs.

"She's really not that shy once she warms up to you." Yaya laughs. "Come on, pea. I've got our movie and popcorn ready to go." She runs to Yaya and grabs her hand. "You two have a good dinner!"

"Thanks, Yaya." San gives her one last hug before waving at Charli. "Shall we?" You nod, walking alongside of him to the car. As always, San opens your door first before climbing in the driver's seat. It's a little quiet and awkward at first because it has been some years since you two have talked. You're sure things have changed for San and vice versa.

But, when you get to the restaurant, you realize he's still the same San you've known all these years.

He awkwardly swings his arm around you, giving your shoulder a small squeeze as you enter the restaurant. He's stiff, unsure of what to do with himself around you, and it kinda makes you giggle.

He's always been like that.

When the host brings you towards the back to your table, his hand slips into yours and it feels.. unnatural for whatever reason. Everything just seems too forced for two people who probably truly adore each other as friends and nothing more. Which, is fine. There's nothing wrong with it. Reality hits you quick when you sit and smile at San in front of you. You know it's not a serious date, and you feel a tad bit bad feeling relieved that it isn't. Even though San looks incredibly good and so, so handsome, the initial infatuation has slipped away from you because San is one of your bestfriends and that's how you've always cherished him.

"So." You giggle when he flips through the menu and shifts in the seat. "How's everything been, Y/N?"

"I don't know, same old, I guess? Yaya's still healthy and going, Soyeon and Junseo are good. Charli's good. Restaurant is busier than ever."

"That's good. Yoongi's still there?"

"Yeup! Jini is there, too. I don't think you've met her, but she's a college student working part-time. My life saver honestly, she gives me a lot of breaks." San chuckles. "How's your family? I'm sure they're happy to have you back."

"Yeah, they're good. They're the same, too. Not much has changed." Your phone dings and it's Seonghwa sending you a random tweet that only you two would understand. He sends the laughing emoji, followed by another text about it.

"Sorry." You click your phone on the side to lock it.

"It's all good. But, yeah. They're the same."

"Your parents come to the restaurant from time to time."

"I know, they love it there. They've just been so busy lately with renovating the house that they're barely going out."

"Aw." You chuckle.

"Are you good to order?" You nod, swiftly apologizing when you accidentally kick San's foot under the table before ordering. The silence between you two isn't entirely unsettling, but it does feel weird after years of being away from each other. Plus, San feels like's trying way too hard to make this go a certain way when he shouldn't.

He's too fixed on it.

"San." You call for him when you find him glancing out the window nervously. "You okay?" You lean onto the palm of your hand and give him a smile.

"Sorry. I'm just nervous and I don't know why."

"Don't be. We've always been friends. Nothing has changed between us." He looks at you and the statement kinda breaks his heart. Maybe you two were really just meant to be friends. "Tell me! How was the program? Barcelona?"

"Ridiculously hard. I literally had no life, kinda why I fell off the grid and barely posted or anything."

"I'm sure it was worth it, no?"

"Definitely. Everything there is so different there. In a good way, though. It felt like a breath of fresh air for me."

"Did you date anyone?"

"Uh, yeah. I guess I'll tell get into that later." He clears his throat. "What about you, though? Are you into anyone?"

"Uh, no. And, I haven't really been seeing anyone."

"Mingi?"

"It was complicated, but I'm finally done with that." You poke at the appetizer that was brought out.

"I'm glad because he doesn't deserve you."

"Hm." You hum. "But otherwise, not much has changed. I think." San watches how you quickly pick up the phone when it dings again, and although it's not really an issue, he can tell how much your body language shifts from the text alone.

It's probably Hwa.

"Y/N. You're one of my really good friends, right?" You giggle and nod.

"Yeah, Sannie."

"So, can I ask you something? I want you to be completely honest with me."

"Of course."

"Is there anything going on between you and Hwa?" You look at him, down at your phone and then back at him. Because no, you're not really sure how to answer the question. Yes, but no? If this were any other day, you'd probably answer confidently. But today, things felt different. You can't say no without automatically second-guessing yourself.

"N-no? Why would you ask that? We've always been this way."

"I know, but. I just.." He chuckles and shakes his head. "Nevermind. It's probably dumb."

"No, tell me." He looks up at you just as he lets out a small breath, cocking his head to the side.

"Don't call me lame or make fun of me, okay?"

"Sannie." You let out a small, playful but defeated chuckle. "I won't, you know me." You take a bite from your plate.

"I don't know, I'm not going to lie. I've always had a little crush on you since we've known each other, and coming back, I truthfully thought it was a phase that might have gone away. It's not. I still have that crush on you, and I thought I'd see where it goes but—" San is rambling and you can't help but let out a small giggle at how frustrated he's getting. "I— I'm rambling. Sorry."

"No, San. It's okay."

"My point is, I thought there was a chance to explore this.. this time around." He gives you a tiny pursed smile. "But, if I'm being honest. I can see the way Seonghwa looks at you. I think we all can."

"Um. I don't know what to say? I don't think he sees me that way."

"Y/N." He cocks his head to the side, giving you a look as to say 'you know better than that.'

"Seriously!"

"What about you, though?"

"He's my bestfriend. Of course I love him and adore him to bits." You avoid eye contact and San isn't sure why that's the telling sign for him. But, you've deflected and didn't really answer the question. So, he's not sure what else to think.

"Are you happy?"

"I am."

"Truly happy? With how everything is?"

"I-I don't know. I think so. I'm.. content." He nods because for whatever reason, that answer tells him a lot more than it probably tells you.

"The last thing I wanna do is ruin things between my friends."

"I—We're just friends, Sannie." You don't even realize how low and pained your voice sounds when you let the response slip from your lips. "I think this is as good as it gets for us." San just looks at you because he notices how you nervously fiddle with your fork and poke with your food. Avoid eye contact. Respond lowly. Maybe you just hate talking about the topic in general. Maybe you do like Seonghwa and you're in denial. Whatever it is, San doesn't think this is as good as it gets for you two.

Which, truthfully, is a little heartbreaking for him. He kinda saw it coming. Everyone did. He just thought there was a possibility since he came back and you two were still just friends.

San can tell Seonghwa will always be number one for you. And that's okay. He's glad he is. You two work well together, and Seonghwa will put his life down for you over anyone. He's just sad because he believed he had a chance and today confirms he doesn't. He never did and he probably won't in the future.

This is as good as it gets for you two— you two as in you and San.

"Y/N." He calls for you once more when he notices your attention drifting off to the food on your plate, avoiding all eye contact.

"Hm?" You hum with a tiny smile.

"You know it's totally okay if there is, right?" You sigh and shrug. "You should just go for it."

"It's just not that easy."

"Whatever it is, I just want you to be genuinely happy." You pause. "And I truthfully think the answer has been in front of you the entire time."

"Can't get anything past you, can I?" You joke and give him a tiny, toothless smile.

"I'm afraid not." He laughs.

"I missed you." You let out a breath, cocking your head to the side as you observe him. Overall, he seems okay. He seems good. He seems happy.

You adore this Sannie, and you will always adore and cherish him the same way you always have.

"I missed you, too."

"So, can we talk a bit more about what else you've been up to over there? Your dating stories?"

"I'd be happy to tell you more." San smiles and continues to tell you about his adventures in Barcelona while the two of you dig into your main courses. Exploring and being on his own for the most part. He finally opens up about dating while he was out there, and how he had a few one night stands. He met a girl he did actually get into a rather serious relationship with, but he ended things since he knew he was coming home and didn't want her to plan her life around him. He wasn't the type to do long-distance relationships simply because he knew he wouldn't be able to pull it off.

The rest of dinner goes by smoothly, the two of you thoroughly enjoying each other just letting things be. Dinner made you realize that you missed having San by your side, and it made you remember all the times in college when you sat up late nights talking about everything and anything while everyone was asleep. You missed having that connection with him, and it feels good to have it back.

Though, you won't lie that San is incredibly attractive and someone you'd definitely fall for in another lifetime; being this way, not forcing things between you two and rebuilding your friendship after years felt the most right.

Your heart was just in another place.

When you get home, San opens your door and gives you a quick hug and a kiss to the temple before bidding you goodnight and sending his love to Yaya and Charli. It's just about Charli's bedtime so you quickly pick her up from the house to let Yaya rest and get her ready for bed with a quick wash up. Just as you respond back to Seonghwa's text, a call comes through on your phone from Soyeon.

"Hey." You press the phone against your shoulder while you continue to brush Charli's hair before bed.

"How's my daughter doing?"

"Good. Having the time of her life without you guys, actually." Soyeon laughs.

"Well, at least she isn't giving you problems."

"How's Japan?"

"Good! Warm. Fun."

"Gonna bless me with another niece or nephew?"

"Can you not?" You laugh.

"Doesn't hurt to ask, jeez."

"Anyway." She clears her throat. "I meant to call because I wanted to ask you about your dinner with San."

"You remembered?"

"Course I did, the heck? I was hoping to hear some juicy details by now."

"Nothing juicy. He's still the same Choi San." You chuckle.

"So, I'm guessing your little crush was actually just a little crush."

"Hey, he's attractive." You shrug. "But, I think we're always just going to be friends."

"Hm, cause of Hwa?"

"Now, why would you say that?"

"I digress."

"No please, enlighten me. Because even San had asked me if there was anything going on between us."

"Did he now? What'd you say?"

"Yeah, he did. And I said no, because what would be going on between me and Hwa?"

"Nothing." She sighs. But the silence definitely doesn't last long. "You know what, actually. I do appreciate San asking you that question. I wish you'd stop brushing it off." You sigh.

"What am I possibly brushing off?"

"The fact that you probably have feelings for your bestfriend, too. You're just afraid to admit it because you're afraid of things changing, or that Hwa doesn't actually feel the same. We can all see it, Y/N."

"I highly doubt it, it's just how we've grown to be."

"Girl, that man will lay down his life for you and drop everything just to be there for you in a heartbeat. He's done that for you since ever. You still think he doesn't feel that way for you?" Silence. "I'm just saying. A bestfriend doesn't always have to be at your beck and call because you're two different individuals running two very different lives. But quite frankly, Seonghwa is the one exception to that. He puts you before anything and anyone without question. If that ain't true, genuine love Y/N, I don't know what it is."

"You guys make this hard."

"Do we, or are you making it hard for yourself?" You sit and pause some more, quickly running through all of the moments Seonghwa has come to save you throughout the years. Be there for you. Lend an ear. Hug you and console you. Stay up with you. Find you in the rain when your ex-boyfriend let you leave. Held your hair back during shitty, wasted nights. Catered to you while you were sick. Helped your family; Soyeon, Yaya, Charli.

He was so, so immersed in your life that you didn't even realize how much he was. How deep it had gone for you and Seonghwa. How much Seonghwa had been there for you, more than you for him. There was no comparison.

Yet, he never complained once.

He never complained about putting you first.

"Mm, well. Just putting my two cents out there. You know I love you, right? And I just want you happy. Someone like Mingi doesn't deserve a good, beautiful person like you." Soyeon tries to cushion the blow, lecture, whatever you wanna call it, by reminding you about how much she cares for you.

"I know. I love you, too."

"Well, let me know how the aquarium goes tomorrow. And think about it, okay?"

"Mhm. Be safe with Junseo."

"Will be!" She ends the call, leaving you to sit and ponder on your thoughts longer than you'd like. Soyeon was right. You were just afraid, though. Why would Seonghwa have feelings for you like that when you two have known each other for long? You're convinced he'd always see you as his bestfriend, a pain in the ass, the one that he could never explore those territories with.

Today had you questioning everything. Revisiting everything, wondering what signs you've possibly missed. Your dreams. And now, you can't get it out of your head that maybe, you do love your bestfriend. That maybe, your heart was being saved for him. You can't deny the fact that you're curious.

"What's Uncle Hwa doing?"

"I don't know, pea. Probably busy." You finish brushing her hair and let out a breath, relieved Jini was able to help close up tonight and give you a break tomorrow. You were exhausted and you didn't realize just how much.

"Can you call him?"

"Cha, I'm sure he's busy."

"Call, Auntie Y/N. Please." She whines and you sigh, picking up the phone to Facetime Hwa.

"We're seeing him tomorrow, Charli."

"Ya, but.." Is all she responds with, eyes glued to the tv screen. "I w-wanna talk to Uncle Hwa."

"About what?"

"Tomorrow."

"He'll come." When Hwa finally picks up the Facetime call, you're only able to see his forehead and his eyes through the screen.

"What?" You furrow your brows at his incredibly sweet greeting.

"Jeez, hi to you, too."

"What're you calling me for?"

"For the record, it's not me calling you. Chacha wanted to talk to you for whatever reason." You hand her the phone. "Here, talk to your oh so loving Uncle Hwa." He snorts.

"Uncle Hwa!" She holds the phone loosely, also only showing off her tiny forehead and eyes through the camera.

"Yes, baby?"

"Are we still going to the aquarium tomorrow?"

"Yeah, we are. I'll pick you up in the morning, okay?"

"Okay." She giggles. "With Auntie Y/N, right?"

"Only because she asked to come." You glare at him from afar while fixing in your bathroom.

"Whatcha doing?"

"Laying down. Did you eat?"

"Mama made ramen."

"Hm, okay."

"Say goodbye, Cha. We have to go to bed."

"Oh. I have to go, Uncle Hwa." She looks down into the camera, making Seonghwa chuckle at how cute she looks. "Bye bye!"

"Sleep well, pea." Seonghwa says before clearing his throat. "Actually, can you put Auntie Y/N on the phone really quickly, please?"

"Titi Y/N!" Charli yells loudly. "Phone, phone, phone!"

"Okay, thank you!" You grab the phone from her, Charli running to your bed and getting under the blankets. "What is it?"

"What time do you guys wanna head to the aquarium tomorrow? Do you wanna go as soon as it opens in the morning?"

"Why, do you have other plans?"

"No, I'd rather just get in there when there isn't a big crowd yet."

"Yeah, that's fine."

"Breakfast, too?"

"Okay. So, what time should we be ready?"

"9am?"

"Okay."

"Well." Seonghwa shifts in his position. "If you need me again tonight, don't. I'm busy."

"Shut up, doing what?"

"Busy not picking up your calls."

"You idiot." He laughs.

"See you tomorrow. Give Cha a kiss for me." You look into the camera and roll your eyes before shutting off the call and getting into bed with Charli.

"Want some more?" Seonghwa looks at Charli as she eats a tiny cut of his pancake. She happily nods, picking at a blueberry off to the side of her plate. He cuts her a few tiny pieces, setting it onto the top. "What about you?" He looks at you.

"Can I have a little bite?"

"Here." He cuts you a half of his pancake and sets it on your plate.

"Uncle Hwa!"

"Mhm?"

"Do we get to see the penguins? A-and seals? A-and snakes, and jellyfishies, and starfishies!" Seonghwa laughs and nods, setting his empty plate aside.

"Yeah, we'll get to see all of that." Hwa calls the waitress over and immediately hands her his card to pay for the meal.

"Finish your food, pea. We'll see them as soon as you do."

"I'm done! I'm done!" She giggles.

"One more." Hwa forks the last piece of the pancake slice, popping it into her mouth before wiping away at it.

"I'm ready!" The waitress hands Seonghwa the receipt, giving him the opportunity to sign off on their receipt copy before tucking his away in his wallet.

"Good, me too!" He smiles at her and carries her out of the restaurant. You trail behind, watching as Seonghwa points at the birds flying around near the beach. The aquarium and restaurant were nestled on a small street right by the beach, gift shops and other cafes sitting alongside of them. It surprisingly isn't too busy yet, though you know the street and the aquarium will become crowded in the next hour or so. Seonghwa pauses in his steps and turns to wait for you while Charli continues to point out the seagulls sitting on the edge of the wooden rail that lines the walkway to the beach.

"Let me pay for the aquarium tickets."

"Nah, it's good. Don't worry about it."

"Hwa, you paid for our breakfast already."

"It's okay." He looks at you. "I wanted to take Charli out today."

"Oh, not me?"

"Not really." You playfully pinch him, causing Hwa to let out a small groan and a laugh. "I'm kidding. Seriously, it's not a big deal."

"Thank you." You give him a cute, toothless smile. After Charli finishes observing the seagulls around the beach, the three of you continue to walk towards the aquarium. Cars are slowly piling into the free spots on the road, and the street is becoming busier by the minute. The three of you wait at the corner of the street, waiting for the walk sign to come on in order to cross and finally make it to the aquarium. Just as the light turns red and switches the walk sign on, you step forward to make it across. But, you pause in your steps when you realize the oncoming car isn't stopping any time soon and Seonghwa picks up on it quick. He grabs onto your hand tightly and pulls you back, keeping Charli close to his side when the car continues to run the red light— barely slowing its speed.

"Idiot." He mutters to himself before looking at you, the both of your hands clasped together. "Careful."

"Thanks, pichu." He gives you a tiny smile before leading the way down the crosswalk, still holding onto your hand with Charli on his other. You like the way Seonghwa's hand fits so effortlessly into yours, the way it feels so natural, so meant to be—

"Uncle Hwa! Look!" Charli releases her grip from Seonghwa's hand and runs towards the seal statue near the ticket window. Seonghwa lets go of yours in an effort to run after her and make sure she doesn't wander too far, leaving you behind; suddenly feeling cold, empty. He doesn't spare a look back at you, busy snapping Charli's pictures while she poses next to the statue. You slowly head over, chuckling as Charli directs him on how to shoot the pictures.

"Look." Seonghwa shows her the pictures. "I'll send it to your mom and dad."

"Aw, Chacha. You look so cute. Who taught you how to pose like that?"

"You. And Mama." You laugh, fixing her piggytails while Seonghwa sends the pictures off and heads over to the window to buy the tickets. You hold onto Charli's hand as you two slowly approach the entrance, Seonghwa waving the tickets in the air to show off to Charli before handing it to the person at the door.

It's a slow start at first, with Charli glued to your hip as she holds your hand— bright eyes full of curiosity as they examine the surroundings. Seonghwa grabs a pamphlet that has the aquarium map included, suggesting to go straight into the marine life and coral reef section. As you walk in, the area is dimly lit, with the only light from the tanks bouncing off of the walls. Charli's eyes glow as she runts to the first tank full of jellyfish swimming around. She squeals when she waddles over to the clownfish touch pool, Seonghwa coming to her side and guiding her little finger across the surface to get a feel for their calcified skin. You giggle when she whines a bit at the feeling, Seonghwa reassuring her that they wouldn't bite or bother her.

Safe to say she was over it pretty quickly.

Eventually, you reach the coral reefs. Your eyes light up as you scan the entire tank against the wall, a variety of sea life co-existing and swimming through the clean waters. You sit Charli on the edge of the rail while you hold her close, letting her get up close and personal to the variety of fish swimming around the reefs. She looks up in awe, squealing and giggling to her heart's content when they pass her by and go along their merry way. Seonghwa comes from behind, surprising you with how close his chest is to your back.

"Chacha, did you see that?" He points from behind, chest now barely grazing your back. Any other time, you probably wouldn't have cared or looked into it much. But for some reason, today is different. You're not sure if it's because of the dream you had, or Soyeon's phone call— either or, or both. But today is different. You can't help but fix on how close Seonghwa's face would be if you were to turn to your left, on how he could literally engulf you in his arms and hold you close.

And the funny thing is, you don't think you'd push him away or dislike it one bit.

As if the universe was tuning into your thoughts, a fish comes swimming closely near the glass, causing Seonghwa to press up against your back and hold Charli's hand to the surface. He doesn't seem to pay any attention to what he's doing, chuckling with Charli as he continues to tell her what kind of fish it is. This might be a normal thing to him but to you, it's not.

Because now, your heart is beating against your chest [you hope to God he doesn't feel it]. Your palms feel sweaty. You're swallowing the lump in your throat. The room feels a teeny bit hotter.

"Titi Y/N, let's go!" Chacha whines a bit. You snap out of the trance you were just in, even though Seonghwa hasn't done much to create distance behind you. He looks down at you from the side, cocking a brow when he notices your delayed reaction.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, sorry." You put Charli down, following her direction as she leads you into the kelp forest exhibit, pointing at all the different fish she sees. There's a play area off to the side that she instantly finds interest in once she's gotten a good look at the sea life, romping around and digging her hands into the different activities laid out for toddlers. Seonghwa lingers around to supervise, with you trailing slowly after you've gotten to indulge in the exhibit. You loop your arm around Seonghwa's and he lets you, keeping you close to his side as Charli continues to play around in the play area.

"Hey, thanks for taking us today." He looks down at you and lets out a breathy chuckle.

"Wow, a thank you that I didn't have to initiate? That's a first." You gently punch him.

"I'm serious, pichu!"

"It's no biggie. As long as Chacha's happy."

"Yeah, she is."

"So, you never told me."

"What?"

"How was that dinner with Sannie?" Seonghwa asks, avoiding eye contact.

"It was cool. We mainly caught up." You shrug.

"That's all?"

"Why, do you think there's more? Did Sannie say something to you?" You nervously poke at him, but you're not sure if you're helping your case or making it worse.

"What?" Seonghwa looks at you. "I'm asking you. He didn't say anything to me."

"Oh, yeah. We just caught up about life. His program. Family stuff. Things you already know."

"Uh huh." Seonghwa cocks a brow up. "Why are you being so weird then?"

"I'm not!"

"Did he say something to you?"

"Seonghwa, no. I'm not being weird about anything."

"You're also a very bad liar."

"I'm not even lying, though." You sigh and let go of his arm. He won't let up, and it's only because you're so close to cracking. Even though San truthfully didn't mention anything specific about the dinner, you've been acting weird since he picked you up this morning. The way you look at him feels different, and the way you've been latching onto him is different. Not that he's complaining, but something has shifted in the air and he doesn't know what to make of it. But what he does know is you— he knows you, so, so well, and thats one thing he won't lose at. "I just—"

"Auntie! Uncle Hwa! Let's go to the penguins!" Charli yells as she runs towards you and grabs your hand. She begins to drag you over, telling you to hurry. "Uncle Hwa, come on!" You look at him and subconsciously grab for his hand to drag him along at the three year old's speed. Seonghwa follows along, having to pick up Charli in his arms so she's able to see properly. When he lets go of your hand, your heart sinks a bit and it must have registered on your face because Seonghwa has to do a double take. He catches how your smile fades and how you awkwardly fiddle with your fingers while looking out at the penguins. You brush it off pretty quickly though, with the way you giggle with Charli and pinch her cheeks when she happily waves at them. "I wanna go see the big dinos now!" She points to the dinosaur exhibit just down the other end of the room.

"Okay, let's go!" Seonghwa looks at you and holds out his arm, hoping that's the kind of comfort you were seeking for. Truthfully, he knows what you're asking for but part of him isn't sure why. And to be fair to you, to himself, he'll continue to keep it at bay until he's sure of what you're asking from him.

He doesn't wanna get his hopes up because it'll break him if you don't genuinely feel the same way he does.

And lowkey, he is a bit confused as to why you're acting needy all of a sudden. You've had your moments but Seonghwa knew to play it off because it felt innocent, like a bestfriend-honestly-bothering-her-bestfriend-just-because-he's-there kinda thing. Today, it didn't feel that way, especially when he looks at you and it seems like you wanna say something but you don't. Especially when you tug on his arm ever so subtly, hand teasing his so closely by the wrist.

What is it about today?

Why were you sending him mixed signals?

"What were you gonna say earlier?" Seonghwa asks while you continue to cling onto his arm.

"Oh, nothing." You decide you won't tell him about San's questions, or his sudden deep-dive into your relationship and feelings. You're hoping it stays between you two because lord knows you aren't ready to tackle that subject with Seonghwa right now, nor do you think Seonghwa would actually feel the same. Or, have the patience to deal with all the jumbled thoughts in your head about him. Little do you know. "We just caught up. That's all."

"Are you sure that was it? You know I hate liars, Y/N."

"Well, the subject about dating came up." You run through the sentence so fast that Seonghwa has to look down at you while trying to read into your expression. Whatever it was that was bothering you, he hopes you can talk to him about it. He'd be there to listen and offer his guidance no matter what.

Always you first.

"What about dating?"

"He asked if I was into anyone." You generally state now that Seonghwa's indulging in the conversation.

"Hope you didn't say Song Mingi." You gently nudge him.

"No, I didn't." You roll your eyes.

"Did you tell him you had a crush on him?"

"No."

"Hm." Seonghwa hums. "I still don't understand where you're going with this? What happened between you two?"

"Nothing."

"At all?"

"Look. I went to dinner with San and as I sat there, I realized he's still the Sannie I adore from years before. I just couldn't see him any other way."

"Whatever happened to 'he's so cute, Hwa'?" He mocks you. "Sannie is soooo cute, he would never date me." Seonghwa continues. "He'd never give me a chance, would he? Huhuhu—" His bottom lip pokes out.

"Quit, what is wrong with you!"

"I didn't say it, you did."

"I just realized some things, and I think he did, too."

"You're being so fucking cryptic, it's making my head hurt." Seonghwa rolls his eyes before returning his attention to Charli playing around with the dinosaur activities.

"How am I being cryptic?"

"You tell me everything, yet you can't even tell me what happened during your dinner with San without beating around the bush." You look at him with a small pout and he almost feels his knees buckling because god, he is so weak for you sometimes. But, because of that, he finds himself getting easily frustrated when you can't just be straight up with him. "So, where does this leave you two?"

"As friends. Like we always were." You tug on his wrist. "Hypothetically speaking, if we were to date, would that ruin things between us?" Seonghwa swallows the lump in his throat before shaking his head.

"Why would it ruin things between us?"

"I don't know, because we've always known each other like this. As bestfriends. It could be a dangerous thing, right? Cause we'd know too much about each other or whatever." You look up at him, and he locks his eyes with yours. He wishes he could say everything and nothing at once— but he sticks with the latter, his own example of keeping everything at bay.

"I truthfully don't think it'd ruin anything."

"B-because I feel like it would and that's why I'm just letting things be with San."

"You sure that's it? Cause I feel like you're asking for a different reason, and not for San in particular." He tilts his head to the side, and you're afraid he's reading into your mind. He's good at that shit, and you hate it. Because no, that's not it. He must know, that's why he's looking into your soul, patiently waiting for the truth to come out. "Y/N, I think—"

Seonghwa is why. He is the reason why you can't find yourself moving anywhere with San.

"I'm done! Let's go!" Charli runs up to Hwa's legs, interrupting the staring contest you two had going on just as he was about to carry on. You clear your throat and step away from him, focusing your attention on Charli.

"Wanna see all the bugs and snakes, pea? They're down there in that small section." You point down the hall and she grabs your hand.

"Yes! Let's go, let's go!" She repeatedly yells. "Uncle Hwa, come on! Slow poke!" He chuckles to himself, following the both of you into the insects exhibit.

As you, Charli and Seonghwa continue to go through the rest of the aquarium, you find yourself focusing on how well Seonghwa takes care of Charli. He continues to keep her smiling; throwing giggle fits when he swoops her into his arms and blows raspberries against her tummy. He patiently walks through every exhibit with her hand in his, pointing at the animals while giving her a fun fact or two. You rarely have to lift a finger because Seonghwa continues to keep her occupied, while also keeping you happy.

You don't have to ask for anything, and Seonghwa continues to deliver.

Towards the end, Charli asks for Seonghwa to take her into the gift shop. You find yourself wandering around, eyes fixed on the cute octopus plush they have on display. You set it down, convincing yourself you don't really need the damn thing [but it'd be nice]. By the time you've made your way around the store, you catch Seonghwa and Charli at the register— the same octopus plush in his hands. For a minute, you think it's for Chacha until you realize she already has a turtle plush she's hugging close to her chest. It isn't until Seonghwa turns towards you with a small smile, digging his wallet back into his pocket.

"Here."

"What, this is mine?"

"I wasn't the one looking at it." Seonghwa chuckles a bit. "Take it before I regret it."

"Hwa." You whine a bit, bottom lip poking out into a pout. "You didn't have to."

"You looked like you were having trouble putting it down so yeah, I guess I kinda had to."

"You paid for everything today." He shrugs.

"It's fine. I don't always find myself here, anyway." You hug him tightly, taking everything in while he pretends to be disgusted by the affection. "Please."

"You love me."

"I was forced to." You playfully punch him as you pull away, causing him to let out a small 'ow.'

"By the way, were you gonna say something earlier before Chacha dragged us to the insects?" Seonghwa pauses and he wants to yes. He does want to say something. He knows you weren’t talking about San. He wants you to know you’re all he wants. He wants to say he loves you, and adores you, and wants to take care of you if you'd just let him.

"Nah. It wasn't anything."

"You sure?"

"Mhm." You look at him and subtly frown at the way he looks conflicted, puzzled. But, he brushes off quick cause he knows you'll read into him, too.

"Mmkay then. Are you going to stay at my place for a bit or just drop us off?"

"I'll hang out for a bit. Ready?" He looks down at Charli, who has been entirely smitten over her turtle plush these past few minutes. She's completely oblivious to you two, barely paying any attention now that she has a new toy in hand.

"Yeah, let's get out of here." He nods in agreement, crouching down to Charli's level. "Ready to go, Chacha?"

"Yes please." She nods, letting Seonghwa hold her hand.

"You tired? Did you have fun at least?"

"I did." Is all Charli says as you make your way out of the now very busy aquarium. She yawns as she holds her turtle plush tight against her chest. Seonghwa pauses in his steps and waits for you to walk alongside of him, never wanting you to get left behind or lose sight of you. Once you finally catch up, you hold onto his arm while navigating through the crowded streets. Eventually, Seonghwa has to carry Charli and hold your hand in order to breeze through the rest of the crowd.

"Are you guys hungry for anything? Need anything before we go home?" The question slips from Seonghwa's lips so naturally, it almost seems like this is a normal, daily routine for you two. You nod though, remembering you do have a few groceries you'd like to grab.

Seonghwa doesn't complain.

He takes you to the market to give you some time to grab your groceries, staying in the car while Charli naps in her carseat. You're in and out, gently setting your bags on the floor in the backseat before settling into the passenger's seat. You and Seonghwa don't talk much on the way back home for the sake of Charli, only chiming in when you or Seonghwa have a pressing question to ask the other.

When you finally touch base at home, Charli wakes up in Seonghwa's arms while he carries her into your suite. You usher her into the bathroom for a quick bath before slipping her into some comfy pajamas. Seonghwa is relaxing on the couch, randomly watching Loki while waiting for you two to be finished.

"What're you gonna cook for dinner later?"

"Not sure. I might see what Yaya has. I'm too lazy." He chuckles.

"Put those groceries to use." He stands and heads to the kitchen. "I can make something, but it'll sit out for awhile until dinner."

"It's fine." You brush Charli's wet hair before sitting her in between your lap to dry her hair. "What're you doing later anyway?"

"Nothing."

"Why don't you just hang out and stay or something?"

"You want me to?"

"Why not?" He shrugs.

"Don't wanna invade your space or whatever you say." You laugh.

"I'm telling you to stay."

"Alright then."

"Don't sound too excited, jeez." He laughs.

"What do you want me to say?" Seonghwa smiles and gently tickles at Charli's stomach. "At least I'll be with Chacha!" She giggles as you continue to dry her hair. "Gonna wash up." He heads to your closet to go through the random assortment of bottoms and tops that you've borrowed [kept].

Throughout the rest of the afternoon and early evening, Seonghwa indulges in Charli's antics and plays along with her— giving you some time to clean around the suite and help Yaya with a few things in the house. As night time falls, Seonghwa is quick to make dinner for you and Chacha, putting all of the cooked dishes in front of you on the coffee table while you watch a movie with Charli. Once he's satisfied and cleans up after himself in the kitchen, he settles on the opposite side of Charli and indulges in Encanto playing loudly on the screen.

After dinner, you help Seonghwa clean up before you're getting Charli ready for bed and tucking her in. Seonghwa has made a little bed in your tiny living room area floor— pushing the coffee table up so that you three can lay comfortably. When Monsters University comes on, you find that Seonghwa is invested but.. isn't? He's constantly checking his phone, and you shouldn't be annoyed because it's probably the boys.

But, you are.

It's probably the boys.

Right?

Why does it matter?

"Are you watching?" You squint at him and he quickly finishes his text before he plops the phone down on his chest and looks at you.

"Yeah?"

"No, you're not." You give him a look. "Are you texting the boys?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" He teases and you roll your eyes. "I'm kidding. Yes, and someone I met a couple of days ago."

"What? You never told me about that."

"I didn't tell you because it's just that. We met and we're just casually talking about things."

"A girl?" He nods.

"Uh huh. Her cousin plays for the football team and she was visiting during training."

"Oh, interesting. Are you like.. interested in her?" You divert your attention to the movie.

"Uh." Seonghwa pauses and shrugs, even if you aren't looking at him. "I'm just seeing where things go? Do I need to have a reason right now?"

"No. I'm just wondering." He picks up his phone again when it dings.

"But Uncle Hwa, I thought Titi Y/N was y-your girlfriend." She stutters as she keeps her eyes on the movie.

"Mm, she is my friend who is a girl, Chacha. My bestfriend."

"But, my mommy said—"

"Okay, let's watch the movie, pea." You cut her off and she happily obliges. "You too, Uncle Hwa." You glare at him once more before smacking him on the bicep.

"Ouch, stop. I'm watching." He whispers harshly, yet continues to text.

"Pichu." You whine "You stop." He grabs your hand before you could land your next hit. He chuckles as he holds onto it, not wanting to let go but to also make his point that you aren't winning this fight. "Hwa." You whine even more.

"I win."

"Fine." You pout and he pinches your cheek.

"Loser." He smiles. "I'm watching, okay? I'm done." He sets his phone to the side and gives you a look. "See?"

"Mhm. What else could possibly be more important than us?"

"Drama." He laughs. "Why does it matter anyway, you're gonna fall asleep in two—"

"Uncle Hwa, Titi Y/N. Movie." Charli says looking at the both of you before shifting her attention back to the TV. You pinch Seonghwa on the shoulder, causing him to silently wince in pain before the both of you finally pay attention to the movie.

It's not long before you feel your eyes getting heavy, and you hate to admit that Seonghwa knows you so well. Charli hadn't fallen asleep too long ago, sandwiched in between you and Seonghwa— her hair a mess on the pillow. She's letting out some soft snores, her hand resting lazily on her chest.

She must've had a long, but good and fun day.

Seeing her this comfortable and content makes you even more sleepy. So much more sleepy that within the next scene, you're fast asleep with your head resting against Chacha's. Seonghwa figures it's a bit too quiet— too quiet especially for someone like you, who is the main yapper between the two of you.

He looks at you and smiles softly to himself.

His heart does a thing; it always does a thing, but in these moments it feels too intense for him to register. He just wants this.

And it's so hard for him to fight it off when there's that glimmer of hope saying you feel the same way.

That you want this, too.

Especially after today. Because he knows you well, so well, and he knows there are things you meant to say but you couldn't. He understands, though. He wants to say a lot, he's just not sure how. But god, does he hope he's right for once.

He hopes that you are looking at him in a different light, he hopes that you've realized he'd been here all along.

"If only you knew." He whispers. "Night, Y/N." He says softly before pulling the blanket up to cover you perfectly, brushing the hair away from your face before shutting off the TV and laying on his back to stare at the ceiling.

He just hopes for you, and you only.

♡ taglist: @hwasbabygirl @fairyofhueningkai @chngbnwf @tinyteezer @everyonewooeverywhere @pearbunny @mxnsxngie @starhwahwa @woosmaid @yeosangsbbg @jycas @lyracarvahall @huachengsbestie01 @asjkdk @bintificreads @interweab @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs

#seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa series #park seonghwa series #park seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa #ateez #park seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez series #seonghwa smut #seongwha fluff #seonghwa angst #park seonghwa smut #park seonghwa fluff #park seonghwa angst #hwaslayer: love you in slow motion

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catslvrr · 7 months

Text

for better or worse

pham hanni x fem!reader | one shot

Synopsis: You’re absolutely wasted at a party. You somehow end up spending the night lamenting to this stranger about how much you miss your ex. You find out the next morning that the stranger is said ex.

Contains: drinking, death-related jokes, cursing

Playlist

Like all bad decisions you’ve made in your life, it always starts with Danielle.

“Please,” Danielle begs, standing in the doorway to your room like a toddler who’s waiting to tell their mom that they just vomited. “Just for tonight.”

You glare at her as you pause your TikTok. “I’m not being your designated driver. Catch an Uber.”

Danielle skips toward your bed and flops on it, resting her chin on the palm of her hand and kicking her feet like a kid. She’s putting on this disgusting baby voice. “Please, I’m begging you… I don’t get paid until next week.”

You ignore her and press play on your TikTok. It’s an edit of Asami Sato, and damn, she is so fine. You’re blushing and giggling to yourself until Danielle rudely interrupts you by pulling your blanket to the floor, ridding you of its comfortable warmth.

“What the fuck!”

She pouts. “Please? I won’t ask again.”

“You said that last time,” you give her a blank stare. “And the last last time.”

“Last time was five months ago! And I always make it up to you.”

Danielle rolls over on her back, and her head is heavy on your legs. She begins to poke you.

“Please,” she whines, dragging the word out. You close your eyes as her voice rings in your ears like a mosquito, taking deep breaths to prevent yourself from murdering her.

Danielle is a lovely roommate. She pays her half of the rent on time, she keeps her space tidy, and she always brings you leftovers from the bakery that she works at. Only issue is, she’s a massive social butterfly. Meaning that wherever she goes, there’s always a party — either in your own apartment, or someone else’s.

She keeps trying to explain to you why she’s like this – saying that she’s an “E” for her “MBTD” or “TMDI” or whatever, but you couldn’t care less. All you know is that you want to peacefully rot in your bed.

But, damn, she can be awfully persuasive. Persuasive meaning incessantly pestering you until you give in.

You sigh in defeat. “Get out before I change my mind.”

Danielle sits up at the speed of light and grins.

“I love you so much,” she presses a sloppy kiss on your hand. You wipe your hand on your blanket in disgust. She then skips out of your room humming some song.

As you force yourself out of bed to get ready, you mentally prepare yourself for the night ahead.

Every time Danielle drags you to one of her parties, you hate her a little more. Which is impossible, because no one hates Danielle. But here you are, cursing her as you stand alone, leaning against the wall, arms folded, and cynical eyes scanning the crowd.

Danielle had practically abandoned you the second the two of you stepped foot in the house, preferring the company of her other friends. You don’t mind of course — this is always the standard drill.

There are the people who are not exactly drunk, just a little buzzed, who are mingling with each other, conversations full of giggles and exaggerated voices. Then, there are the people who are drunk, either dancing sloppily on the floor or passed out. You hear a group of people in the backyard cheering someone on to chug. Lastly, there’s the small group of people who are completely sober, stuck in the same boat as you are.

Okay, so maybe you do mind that Danielle abandoned you. Because you’re stuck here looking like a bitter loner, and in this very moment, you are one. You feel awkward, self-conscious, tired, and extremely bored.

You’re checking your phone for any new notifications (there are none) when you look up and make eye contact with a familiar face for a split second.

You immediately look back down and open Instagram, pretending that you have something to do. You hope she didn’t recognize you. If you can’t see her, she can’t see you, is what you tell yourself.

You hear footsteps approaching you, but you convince yourself it’s just a stranger walking past.

“Hey,” Minji says, a small smile on her face. Nevermind.

“Minji,” you greet her tentatively. “Hi.”

Nothing better than seeing your ex’s best friend for the first time since the breakup that happened three months ago. As expected, she’s taken on the role of the responsible one and is sober.

You mull over the past for a split second — you’ve never seen Minji tipsy, let alone drunk. She’s always been a good friend. It sucks that you guys don’t talk anymore, for obvious reasons.

Minji joins you in leaning against the wall. “How are you?”

“Good. You?”

You’re not curt because you have something against her — you just have no idea how to navigate these types of social dilemmas. There’s no exact rulebook for approaching a conversation with your best friend’s ex, especially an ex who you are still in love with.

“I’m good as well.”

Silence follows after. You fidget awkwardly, pulling out your phone just to stare at the same Instagram feed you were only looking at a few minutes ago. You keep refreshing the feed, but to no avail. You’re staring at the same reel of a cat playing a rhythm game.

“Look,” Minji says. “What happened between you and Hanni—”

Your finger twitches at the mention of her name. You straighten yourself up and rush out an apology. “I gotta go to the bathroom.”

Minji doesn’t stop you as you hurriedly weave your way through the mass of sweaty bodies. You don’t even know where the bathroom is. It takes you a good ten minutes to find it, and it’s surprisingly vacant.

You lock the door behind you. The air is humid inside, and you feel claustrophobic. The lights are dim. You steady yourself by gripping the sink. Hair is sticking to the back of your neck, and your clothes cling to your sweat.

You let out a deep exhale to collect your thoughts before washing your face. You stare at your reflection, and you’re not sure if you like what you see. You’re pale and your eyebags are prominent. You’ve lost the fat in your cheeks that Hanni always used to…

You splash water on your face again. If Minji’s here, then that means Hanni’s definitely here. Fuck, you knew you shouldn’t have come today. You close your eyes as the water drips down your face and back into the sink. It’s been a rough few months.

You grab some tissues to dry yourself and chuck them in the bin before steeling yourself to go back outside. You cautiously creak open the door and peek outside to check if Minji is still there. To your relief, the coast seems clear.

Your eyes scan around the house for a bit longer, searching for another corner to nestle into. And that’s when you see it. Or, more specifically, her.

Hanni’s leaning on the balcony railing, red solo cup in hand, and the moonlight is gently resting on her. There’s someone else with her – she looks familiar but you can’t remember her name. It was either Yunjin or Yeonjung. Or it could be Yeojin.

They’re laughing together, and Hanni’s eyes are crinkling just like you remember, and you remember the sound of her laughter, and how it was a melody that you were proud to bring out, and God, she just looks so pretty. Like she didn’t just go through a breakup.

Then Yunjin/Yeonjung/Yeojin places her hand on Hanni’s waist, and your body goes frigid. You feel hot — anger at first, shame next, and guilt last. And it’s a fiery concoction that burns all over you.

You have no right to be jealous. You force down the lump in your throat and look up at the ceiling until the tears are gone. Fuck. You will not survive the night sober. You take one last glance at Hanni and Yujin/Yeonjung/Yeojin and make up your mind.

You text Danielle: catch an uber, and send her $20 with Apple Cash. She’ll be fine. You hope. Then, you beeline straight to the kitchen, rummage through the cabinets, and help yourself to a small bottle of Jack Daniel’s. Then, you down it.

You grab another bottle of soju from a fridge (peach because it’s the best flavor) to slowly sip on as you settle on some couch. It feels slightly sticky, but beggars can’t be choosers. You know you’ll be too drunk to care in a second — you’re lucky you’re a lightweight.

It’s twenty minutes later that you feel the heat encompassing your body and the tip of your ears burning. You can barely hear the music over the pounding of your own heart. You automatically keel over to the side and relish the coolness of a silk pillow.

You’re mumbling to yourself (and possibly drooling) when you hear a muffled voice.

“Hey, you okay?”

Huh, the voice sounds just like Minji, but you’re too sluggish to respond. A few minutes later, there’s something blissfully cold pushing against your cheek, and then it’s gone. You’re pulled up so that you’re sitting again, and your head lays against the top of the sofa.

“Drink this,” Minji(?) says, and they guide the bottle to your hand. You shakily take a few gulps, and of course, you spill some of it on yourself, but Minji(?) cleans it up with some tissues.

“Thanks,” you mumble.

“Do you have anyone to take you home?”

You try to shake your head, but it makes you feel nauseous and you almost fall face forward off the sofa. Minji(?) luckily catches you and helps you back up.

“I’ll be back,” Minji(?) says. “Stay still.”

You blearily open your eyes, and everything still seems the same. Every movement of your head feels as though it’s in slow motion, like you’re in some kind of TikTok velocity edit, but worse.

People are still mingling, there’s still Boat Race and Beer Pong going on, and the night is still young. Your eyes close shut on their own. Your heartbeat is still as loud as ever.

Clearly, your plan to drink in order to forget about your ex didn’t work, because just a few minutes after Minji(?) has left, you think of Hanni again.

The two of you met in your first year of university the way most people meet: through a friend of a friend. In this case, the friend of a friend was Danielle. So, in retrospect, at least there’s one thing you can thank Danielle’s amiableness for.

You and Hanni hit it off quite well — both still new and adapting to the unexplored terrain that is university, and despite your initial awkwardness and standoffish nature, you both found an unlikely friendship through your common love for simulation and management games.

(If you scroll all the way back to the top of your message history, it would show your first conversation as you teaching her how to illegally download City Skylines.)

Four months later and after countless movie marathons and one laptop explosion (your Macbook Pro died in flames after you attempted to open the Sims 4 with all its DLCs that you pirated), the two of you officially started dating. The way Hanni asked you out was extremely nerdy, but you think that’s what made it all the better.

You were both playing Minecraft one night, and while you were in the dark depths of a comically humongous cave, Hanni was doing God knows what up on the surface. That’s how it always was: Hanni was the builder and you were the miner. There’s no better dynamic than that.

It was relatively silent for around ten minutes until your curiosity got the better of you. “What are you doing up there?”

“Nothing,” you could hear the smile on her face. “Just building.”

“I know that,” you huffed. “I mean, what are you building?”

A muffled giggle. “Secret.”

You paused your mining. You’d probably see endless corridors of stone and coal in your dreams. “Should I go back up?”

“No!” Hanni quickly exclaimed. “Please, not yet.”

“Alright,” you grumbled, placing down a crafting table to make a new pickaxe. “Hurry up, I’m almost out of food.”

Fifteen minutes later, you heard a meek, “You can come up now”, and then the abrupt sound of her ending the Facetime. You were confused, and you tried to call her back, but to no avail. You spent an embarrassing few minutes trying to remember where the stairs back up were. Eventually, you began the arduous journey back up to the surface, and when you reached the top, your thumb ached from pressing the space key too much.

You saw it immediately. Right next to your cottage was a custom cherry blossom tree with a bench under it. You moved towards it, and a sign caught your attention: “Can we place our beds next to each other from now on? <3”

You laughed to yourself, blushing, and entered the house Hanni made before breaking your bed and placing it next to her pink one. You took a screenshot of this and sent it to her. She replied immediately with a Facetime call back. And that was that.

It was 9 months of this: enjoying each other’s presence, being disgustingly in love and domestic, opening yourselves up to one another… before The End arrived. Maybe you should have seen it coming. You were never good with your emotions though.

(Danielle’s horrified reaction upon seeing your ‘T’ result after that nonsense test she made you do flashes through your mind.)

Even if you did see it coming, would you have been able to stop it anyway?

Looking back now, it was so obvious. The number of dates dwindled down. The dates that did happen, once full of animated conversation and laughter over silly little things, now consisted of half-hearted and dry replies.

Maybe it was your fault. You know how distant you can get under academic pressure, and especially with a course as demanding as nursing, there’s barely any time to yourself, let alone Hanni.

The End happened on a Saturday evening. A familiar rhythmic pattern of knocks echoed through your apartment, and you slowly made your way to the door to greet Hanni.

“Hey,” you smiled tiredly as you leaned against the doorframe. “I missed you.”

With the hand that’s not holding takeaway, Hanni squeezed your hand lightly. “I missed you too.”

You both made your way back inside the apartment. You went to your room and slumped back in your chair, continuing your work as Hanni set up the table for dinner. Even though both your schedules were packed, you were glad that you were able to see her once in a while. It sucked, but it had to be enough, was what you told yourself. Little did you know.

At Hanni’s calling of your name, you remember running your fingers through your hair, closing your eyes for a second and taking a deep breath. A second was the plan. You ended up dozing off right then and there, and Hanni had to come in and shake you awake.

Dinner was quiet, save for the sounds of the clinking of cutlery and the occasional slurp. It had been like this for a while. At least there was background noise with the TV playing on some obscure channel. You wondered when this became the norm. The two of you didn’t even bother to ask about each other’s day, because it would elicit the same response: “Exhausting.”

You swallowed the last of your food and mentally prepared yourself to drop the bomb.

“Hanni,” you started off cautiously. “You know how we’re in second year now?”

She hummed in response, her eyes meeting yours. You missed when it used to have so much life and love in them.

“Well,” you breath hitched. “I start placement soon. And it’s full-time.”

“Oh.”

You both knew it was coming, but you guess it wasn’t something you were both prepared to face. Full-time placement typically ranges from four to six weeks, and the university allocates you a location to work at, usually far from home.

Hanni’s face was unchanging, and you hated this. She used to always be so expressive around you. You would always be able to read each other like a book — that’s how it always was. “How soon is soon?”

You tapped your finger on the desk nervously. “Like… next week type of soon?”

She dropped the chopsticks on the table. “Are you serious? You couldn’t tell me sooner?”

“It’s not that deep,” you hastily defended yourself. “A month isn’t that bad. At this point, it’s normal for us to not see each other for a month anyway.”

Your tone was harsher than you intended, but in the heat of the moment, your pride and your stress got the better of you. But this was the worst mistake you could’ve made, because it all escalated so fast and so wrongly.

Hanni scoffed in disbelief. “You say that like it’s my fault. You’re the one who’s always busy. You’re the one constantly canceling our plans. I’m the only one who’s trying to keep this relationship together.”

“Don’t act like I’m not trying here,” you gritted your teeth. “You know my schedule. All the free time I have, I spend it with you.”

“I can’t believe you’re guilt-tripping me over wanting to spend more time with you.”

“I’m not—” You stopped yourself from raising your voice. “I’m not guilt-tripping you. You should’ve told me how you felt rather than just dropping this all on me today. I’m already stressed enough.”

Hanni let out a scornful laugh. “Oh, you can’t be the one to talk about dropping bombs. And have the past few weeks not been enough of an indication for you? You’re too stressed to notice how we literally act like strangers?”

“You can’t expect me to read your mind!”

“Well, I expect you to at least care enough to notice!”

You threw your hands up in exasperation. “Look—”

She cut you off. “Whatever. I don’t think this will work out. Especially now that you’re practically going MIA for a month.”

“Are you serious?” You spat. “You don’t think our relationship is worth fighting over? You can’t even handle a few weeks?”

The jarring screech of the chair scraping against the floor as Hanni sharply stood up rang in your ears. “I have been fighting. But clearly, you’re too in over your head to see it. We’re over.”

And with that, she stormed out of the apartment with a thunderous slamming of the door.

You’re crying. You’re still at the party, drunk out of your mind, and you’re bawling your eyes out. You at least have some dignity to force yourself up and stumble outside so that no one has to witness what a horrible mess you are.

You drop yourself against the wall, and you hit your head against it. It hurts like hell, and there’s going to be a bruise tomorrow, and you want to scream so badly. You clench your fists instead, feeling the digging of your nails into your palm, your body racking with sobs as you try to breathe, but it’s too hard.

You couldn’t even grieve in the first month, because you were on placement. It did provide a temporary distraction from The End, but at night, when you lay in bed, miles away from home, there was nowhere else to run.

You sat with that weight, that feeling of your body closing in on itself. Tossing and turning, you could only rely on completely crying your eyes out until you were so drained that you had no choice but to fall asleep.

All you were left with each morning was the swelling in your eyes and the ache all over your body.

When you finally finished placement, you did what anyone else would do after a breakup: entirely shut the world out. The only time you left was for mandatory classes, which you barely survived. A cap and mask to hide your miserable self was the solution.

In the third month, Danielle somehow managed to lure you out of your room. She offered you some takeaway from your favorite restaurant, and you were surprised that she didn’t pry. You must’ve looked really bad. After that, you gradually assimilated yourself back into normal society and got a grasp of your usual routine.

What hurt most was that it wasn’t hard to live without Hanni, because you had already been separate and distant before you even broke up. The other hardest part was learning how to move on, because it was something you never thought you’d have to do.

You didn’t want to move on though, and although Danielle reassured you that it was fine (you finally broke and told her everything one night when she found you drunk on the couch blabbering to yourself), there was this nagging feeling in your chest that it was the right thing to do.

After all, it was your fault.

You hear the door of the house open and there are faint voices floating around. “Check if she’s outside.”

Some time passes by before a soft voice calls out your name. This is followed by a few gentle taps on your cheek.

You curl yourself up and turn away from the stranger, your voice small and croaky. “Leave me alone.”

“I’m gonna take you home.”

You shake your head. “I don’t want to.”

A few seconds pass by with no response. You assume mystery person has left, but they speak up again. “Why?”

“I’m sad,” your words come out nasally because of your blocked nose. “I’m really really really sad.”

You hear a sigh before the mystery person sits next to you, a few inches apart. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I miss my ex,” you whine. “I miss her so much.”

“Um—”

“I want her back,” you continue, slurring your words. “I’m so stupid. So stupid.”

Mystery person listens silently.

“And the universe keeps reminding me of her. Yesterday, I was playing the Sims, and the Sim I made of her burnt my house down. She must really hate me.”

“...You made a sim of her?”

You sniff. “Yes. And I made one of me. And I made us marry.”

Mystery person laughs quietly. The two of you sit there and focus on the muffled music from the party for a few minutes.

“Did you really mean it?” They suddenly ask.

“Mean what?”

“That you want her back.”

The question makes you burst into tears again.

“Yes,” you ramble. “I miss her so much… I want her back… I’d do anything…”

Your voice grows weaker with every passing word. You pass out after a minute of repeating the same thing over and over again.

You wake the next morning with a killer headache and swollen eyes. Huh, this doesn’t feel too unfamiliar. You’re snuggling yourself deeper into the bedsheets, but then you realize that this is way too comfortable to be your own bed. You blink your eyes open, adjusting your vision, and thankfully the room is dark, otherwise you would’ve been flashbanged.

Oh my god, your mind eventually registers. This is not your room. This is Hanni’s room.

You sit up in shock and horror. It makes you nauseous but you hold it down. How on earth did you end up in her room?

You can hear some shuffling outside the door. Okay, you think. Two options here. Best case scenario: It’s Minji, and you can awkwardly say hi and bye. Worst case scenario: It’s Hanni. There is no current thought as to how you will approach the situation.

Then you hear humming, and just your luck, it’s Hanni.

Okay, you think to yourself again and look out the window, is it possible to survive that jump? (It isn’t.) Your brain runs through hundreds of methods to somehow suddenly die, but none of them are plausible.

Hanni approaches the door, and you quickly hide under the sheets and pretend to be asleep.

She flicks the light on. “I know you’re awake.”

You sheepishly peek out from under the covers.

“Go brush your teeth and shower,” Hanni says. Then, in a smaller voice, as if embarrassed, she continues, “Your toothbrush is still there.”

You stand in the shower, contemplating all of your life decisions that have led to this very moment. You brush your teeth, still contemplating all your life decisions. You consider sending a text to Danielle, something along the lines of: I HATE YOU!!!! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!!!!, but that’s not very fair to her.

You decide on sending a nicer text: hi i hope you got home okay… sorry for not staying sober!

You pace around the bathroom, thinking of what to say to Hanni when you step out. You could just take off and run, but you’re probably not coordinated enough to do that. Guess it’s time to be the bigger person and have a mature conversation.

You take one big dramatic step into the living room of her apartment. Minji isn’t home, it seems. You gulp as you see Hanni, back turned to you as she’s cooking breakfast. There’s already a glass of water and Advil waiting for you on the table.

You wordlessly sit down and gratefully take it. After a while, Hanni sets the table up, and this takes you back to the day of The End. You sit there, frozen, but then she stares at you in confusion and you remind yourself to eat like a normal human being.

“So,” Hanni says after a bit. “Do you remember anything from last night?”

“No,” you fidget in your seat. “Did I do something bad?”

“You said you missed me. And wanted to get back together.”

“Oh,” you swallow.

Hanni tilts her head. You still can’t read her. “Did you mean it?”

You play around with your scrambled eggs. “...Yes?”

She continues to stare at you.

“I did,” you say, a bit more firmly this time, albeit shakily. “And I’m sorry — for everything. I took you for granted… and I should’ve been more considerate of your time and your feelings.”

A pause.

“I’m sorry as well,” Hanni bites her cheek. “I shouldn’t have expected you to know how I felt.”

Another pause. “And I miss you too.”

“Truce?” You offer an awkward smile.

Hanni puffs out her cheeks. “No more last-minute news?”

“No more last-minute news.”

“Spend more time with me? Quality time?”

You nod. “Tell each other how we feel?”

“Tell each other how we feel,” Hanni repeats. Then she says in a serious tone, so serious that you almost don’t believe what you’re hearing. “Buy me Planet Zoo?”

“Buy you… Planet Zoo?”

Hanni swiftly hooks her pinky into yours before you can stop her. “You pinky promised!”

Unbelievable.

“Whatever,” you mutter with a smile.

Planet Zoo is a small price to pay to get the love of your life back.

(“Okay, how drunk was I on a scale of one to ten?”

“Oh, you were so drunk.”

“I said on a scale of one to ten.”

“Like, passed out on the floor, crying, mumbling my name scale of drunk.”

“Okay, not my finest moment. But you were there with Yunjin… or Yeonjung. Or Yeojin. What else was I meant to do?”

“Yujin. It’s Yujin.”

“Oh… Agree to never mention this again?”

“Nope. Love you.”)

Dedicated to user shuxiii… hope you enjoyed if you are reading this…

#newjeans x reader #newjeans fanfic #newjeans fic #pham hanni x reader #hanni pham x reader

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bellaxgiornata · 1 year

Text

Safe Haven [Chapter Thirteen]

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.5k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains violence, drug use, domestic abuse, smut, hurt/comfort, angst, mutual pining, friends to lovers

a/n: You get a Mikey POV at the beginning of this chapter! And a bit of fluff at the end finally to make up for the previous chapters ending! I admittedly edited this fast so I hope I did not miss any grievous errors. I just wanted to get the next chapter posted already. I hope you enjoy and feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @loveroftoomanyfandoms @farfromstrange @rotscinema @1988-fiend @shouldbestudying41 @shiorimakibawrites @norestfortheshelbywicked @mattmurdocksstarlight @acharliecoxedfan @roseallisonparker @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @theetherealbloom @24hflower @mattmurdocksscars @schneeflocky @the-nursery @lionalsowrites

Michael had experienced many situations in his life where he'd been nervous before–times when he’d been on edge. Oftentimes he felt like that before clipping someone and hoping the job went off without incident. And considering the things he’d done over the years, he really shouldn’t have been as nervous as he was right now. But yet here he was, still somehow finding himself anxious as he walked up the drive next door, making his way towards his neighbor's house and hoping for a chance to speak with you.

He thought the date yesterday morning had gone well–you'd even told him you'd enjoyed it. Granted he supposed that was before he thought he was being followed home after the coffee you'd both gotten and he had pulled you down a side street hoping to protect you from bullets meant only for him. And then Amanda had interrupted both of you with a situation that honestly could have waited until later that day instead of her ruining Michael’s date with you. He wished she had showed up after he'd finished spending his morning tangled in his sheets with you. He hadn't anticipated you being quite that bold on a first date, and it certainly hadn't been his intention that morning to take you back to his place for sex after the coffees, but he also couldn't deny that he'd wanted to, either. Over the past few days he’d found himself often wondering what pretty sounds you would make when he finally got you in his bed and his face buried between your thighs. He’d admittedly often found himself growing hard at those thoughts and in need of relief, conjuring up scenarios while he was in the shower. So Michael had been incredibly irritated when Amanda had popped by and interfered.

But then you'd completely flipped on him. He knew Amanda’s timing with family shit had been awful, and he knew that her diminishing what was going on between you both to just sex was out of line, but he'd figured you knew what she was saying was all bullshit. He thought he'd made it clear multiple times already that he liked you; hell, he'd told you as much a few nights ago when he'd stayed with you after your accident. He'd gone off on Birdy when she'd threatened you and he thought he'd made it clear he'd wanted you to stay here after that. That he would help protect you and your sister from your ex.

So why had Amanda’s words hurt you so badly? What had he been missing? Because to him, she had clearly been spouting bullshit, so what had he missed?

Michael had finally gotten your phone number at the beginning of the date yesterday, too, and while you'd told him not to call, he certainly had. Quite a few times now, actually. Though you'd never answered. After the fourth time he'd come to expect that, but he'd still tried anyway.

When he'd gone to bed last night, he'd noticed the curtains on your bedroom window had already been drawn closed. And when he'd woken this morning, they'd still been like that. You were shutting him out and it had hurt him more than he'd thought it would to feel like he was losing something he'd never truly had.

So he'd showered and dressed this morning before he found himself outside and heading next door. He figured he might have more luck if he tried to talk to you in person, desperately hoping you'd give him a chance and explain what he'd done so wrong. To find some way to apologize to you. But as he came to a stop in front of the door, he felt his palms beginning to sweat from nerves; he was afraid he'd say the wrong thing and make everything even worse. He was afraid you'd still refuse to speak to him. He was afraid you might be planning to leave again.

For some reason the thought of losing you before he could figure out what that pull he had to you was all about terrified Michael. Something about you had felt different to him from the very beginning, and it wasn't because you’d been hiding secrets from him. You were unlike anyone he'd ever encountered before–certainly different from the women he'd been with. It was clear on your face that you'd known pain in your life, that you'd had to do things to survive that maybe you hadn't wanted to do. That you were lonely and misunderstood. And Michael could certainly relate to that.

With a heavy sigh he reached out, knocking three times against the door. He tucked his hands into his jacket pockets as he waited, hoping you'd be the one to answer. But a few moments later, when the door swung open, it was your sister who was standing there scrutinizing him. Somehow that had only made him more nervous.

"Hello Michael," she greeted, kicking a hip out and blocking the doorframe as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Wondered when you'd be showing up."

He sent Megan a tense smile, his hands curling into fists in his pockets. "Is Grace around?" he asked. "I–I was hopin' to speak with her."

"Figured as much," Megan replied, her small frame still commanding the entryway. "But no, she's not here."

Michael frowned at her response, his focus dropping to his feet. Was she lying because you didn’t want to talk to him, or was she telling him the truth? Were you really not here?

"You fucked up, you know that right?" Megan told him.

Michael’s eyes flew back up towards Megan's, hopeful that maybe she could shed some light on what had happened. If he knew then maybe he could fix things with you.

"I’ve been tryin’ to figure out what I did wrong," he replied earnestly. "Been tryin' to talk to your sister but she's not answerin' her phone."

Megan's eyes narrowed back at him, a frown pulling at her mouth. "What do you mean you’re trying to figure out what you did wrong?" she asked slowly.

"I mean I don’t exactly know how I fucked up," he answered, shaking his head. "’Sides the way things ended on our walk back, I thought things were goin’ alrigh’. And I know Amanda interrupted things and was rude but–"

"Your sister-in-law called my sister a whore," Megan cut in sharply. "And you said nothing to defend Grace to her."

Michael’s jaw dropped, confusion drawing itself across his features. He’d never heard Amanda call you a whore, he’d have been raging and fuming if he’d heard those words come out of her mouth. And he sure as shit wouldn’t have sat back and let her speak to you like that.

"What?” Michael gasped. “I never heard Amanda say that. I swear to ya she’d have regretted it the moment she’d said that.”

"Did she say my sister was a quick fuck for you?" Megan asked flatly, her brows raising. "Implied she was just there for sex? That all you wanted from her was sex?"

Michael’s dark brows knitted together on his forehead, deep creases forming as he tried to make sense of what Megan was saying. So it had been what Amanda had said after all that had upset you.

“I–yes, she did, but it was bullshit,” Michael explained quickly. “I thought Grace knew that. Amanda, she hasn’ been alrigh’ after what happened to her son, I wasn’t lookin’ to further upset her. But I thought Grace knew she meant more to me than that.” He took a step closer to Megan, his eyes pleading. “Ya have to believe me, I didn’t mean to upset her. I care ‘bout Grace. I know I don’t know her well, but I care for her.”

The stern look on Megan’s face faltered briefly, but only for a second. “You had something with Amanda though, didn’t you?” she asked. “Grace told me you did. She thinks she’s just a distraction for you and that’s why you didn’t straighten Amanda out. You hurt her.” Her eyes narrowed back at Michael as she continued. “And I did warn you about hurting her.”

Michael’s heart sank in his chest. He hadn’t known her words had affected you so much. Hadn’t known that you’d been so bothered by the fact that he’d been with Amanda in the past. It had been so long ago now, a stupid affair that he shouldn’t have had with his brother’s wife. And she’d chosen Jimmy at the time, after all. That wasn’t what Michael wanted, to be someone’s second choice. To be less than. He hadn’t felt that way when he was with Allison, which was why he’d ultimately married her. Though he certainly hadn’t felt whatever he’d been feeling for you when he’d been with either of them, either.

“I want to make it right,” he assured Megan. “I just need her to talk to me. So I can explain myself. Fix things.”

“She’s too pissed at you to talk,” Megan informed him.

Michael’s shoulders dropped, his expression falling with them. Did that mean things were just over before they’d even had a chance to begin then? He’d already ruined things with you?

Megan’s arms uncrossed from her chest as she exhaled a loud sigh, the noise drawing Michael’s attention. Her expression had softened visibly to something less hostile and Michael eyed her curiously.

“You like my sister?” Megan asked him.

“Yes,” he answered instantly.

“And you’re not just fucking around with her?” she questioned next.

Michael shook his head swiftly. “No, ‘m’not,” he replied.

For a long while Megan stood there in silence, studying Michael closely, her eyes scanning his face. After a moment she nodded.

“I’ll help you because I like you and I think you’re genuine,” she said. “So don’t fuck this up. Are you going to be home this evening? Say…eight-ish?”

“I can be, yeah,” he said.

“I’ll lure her out to the back garden a little before then,” Megan told him. “For a sister chat. Keep an eye out–in a not creepy and noticeable way, too. I don’t need her knowing I helped you out here.”

“You would–would do that for me?” Michael asked.

Megan pushed off the doorframe, her stance no longer meant to intimidate. “I want to believe you’re a good guy and you have good intentions with my sister,” she answered. “So I’ll help you. This time.” She raised a finger, pointing it threateningly at Michael’s chest as her expression darkened. “But so help me if you hurt her, lead her on and leave her for your brother’s wife or something, I’ll fucking hurt you. I don’t care what your last name is. Are we clear?”

The corner of Michael’s lips twitched upwards into a small smile. He nodded, his hands finally uncurling in his jacket pockets.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I hear ya, and I don’t intend to hurt her.”

Huddled together with your sister on the bench outside, you drew the blanket tighter around your shoulders as a chill ran down your spine. It was colder out now that the sun had finally set, which wasn't saying much because it always seemed to be cold in Dublin. You felt like you'd been living in layers since you moved here.

"How'd writing go at that new coffee shop you visited?" Megan asked from beside you.

"It was good," you answered. "Nothing interesting happened. Just finished a chapter and drank some coffee. Dealt with social media shit for Angela."

You glanced at Megan sitting beside you, her head resting against the backrest of the wicker bench. Her focus was on the thick clouds in the sky above that threatened rain.

"How was your day off from the hospital?" you asked her.

Megan shrugged a shoulder. "I ran some errands. Went to my yoga class. Nothing too eventful." Her eyes shifted towards you. "Any sign of Victor today? Or was it a good day on that front, too?"

"Thankfully nothing popping up from him," you answered. "Nothing since that weird email I didn't open the other day, at least." You sighed, eyes dropping down to your lap as your fingers nervously fidgeted with the blanket. "It almost makes me more nervous when I go a bit without seeing signs of him lately. Like I feel like he knows I'm here and is just…watching me or something."

Megan's head rose from its place against the bench, her focus fully on you. Her left hand landed on your leg beside hers under the blanket you both were sharing.

"You don't think he knows though, do you?" she asked. "That you're here? You haven't even been here that long yet."

"I don't know," you muttered. "I don't think so but I just…I have this feeling, you know? Like he's getting closer. It makes my skin crawl."

"Let's not talk about it then," Megan said. "Topic change."

"To what?" you asked, still nervously fidgeting with the blanket in your hands.

"I don't know," Megan said. "Anything. Anyone catch your eye at the coffee shop?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. Hands balling the blanket in them, your attention turned up towards the sky.

"I'm not here to date," you reminded her. "You know that."

"You need to live your life, Grace," she said, bumping your shoulder with hers. "You don't want to wake up some day years from now feeling like all you've done is hide."

You opened your mouth, entirely prepared to protest that you were living your life, but the sound of the sliding door opening on the back of Michael’s house stopped you. Gaze slowly making its way over, you saw him closing the door behind himself. Even in the dark you could see his eyes were clearly focused on you.

Stiffening on the bench, you saw him making his way straight towards you and Megan. You could feel your heart nervously pounding in your chest with each of his approaching steps. You didn't want to see him. To talk to him. You knew he'd been calling you since yesterday morning but you couldn't bring yourself to answer. It had hurt you that he'd let Amanda say those things about you, and it had hurt you just as much to realize it was most likely because he still wanted her.

"G'evenin' Megan," he greeted as he neared the fence, his attention briefly switching to your sister before it returned to you. "Grace," he said, tone a bit softer.

"Michael," Megan greeted back. "Come out here to freeze your ass off, too?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. Coming to a stop beside the fence, he placed his hands along the stone and leaned forward over it. He looked nervous as he focused on you.

"Was actually hopin' I could talk to ya, Grace," he said.

Beside you, Megan started pulling the blanket off from around herself. You caught her eye, shooting her a pointed look that clearly asked her not to leave you alone with him.

"Just talk to him," she urged. "If you want to yell at him afterwards no one is stopping you."

As Megan rose from the bench, you readjusted the blanket around yourself to keep warm. Your sister sent you a final, meaningful look before she made her way back towards the house. You heard the sliding door open and close, your eyes dropping down to your feet as you curled further in on yourself under the blanket.

Silence soon fell between you and Michael after Megan’s exit. For a minute neither of you spoke, your heart still beating heavily in your chest. But you refused to be the one to break the silence first.

"I'm sorry," Michael hesitantly called out. "I didn't realize that what Amanda had said had hurt ya."

Your eyes narrowed, a flash of anger at the memory of yesterday morning hitting you. "You think it's not hurtful to be called a quick fuck?" you shot back, your eyes still refusing to meet his.

"I thought ya knew what she was sayin' wasn't true," he replied quickly. "Grace, if all ya were was a quick fuck I wouldn't be lettin' ya in when my–my son was killed," he said, voice full of emotion. "Makin' ya coffee in the mornin' after. Runnin' to your house with a gun when I hear screamin'."

Your gaze slowly rose up to Michael’s face as he continued on, his words coming out faster. You could feel your anger slowly easing the more he said.

"I wouldn't have stayed with ya that night ya hurt yourself," he told you. "And told ya I liked ya in the mornin'. Asked ya out a second time feelin' like a dumb arse hopin' you'd change your mind and say yes to me. Actually give me a chance."

Your expression softened as Michael continued on, realizing he had a point. Though knowing that didn’t mean that he couldn't still have feelings for his brother’s wife.

“If ya were only a quick fuck, I wouldn’t have takin’ ya out for coffee,” he continued earnestly. “I honestly woulda been content to sit in that shop with ya all day listenin' to ya talk 'bout anythin' instead of goin’ home with ya after, Grace. I wasn't the one who suggested it, even if I’d be a lyin’ arse if I said I hadn’t thought ‘bout ya like that, because I have. I’m attracted to ya, I am, but–but that isn’t what I want from ya.”

“And what do you want?” you called out.

You saw the tension ease from his body at the sound of your voice. There was an expression on his face that looked a mix of sad but hopeful in the dim light from Megan’s house shining along him.

“I just want to get to know ya,” he answered. “That’s what I’ve been sayin’ all this time. I just want to get to know ya, Grace.”

Tightening the blanket around yourself further, you felt something flutter in your chest at his admission. “And what about Amanda?” you asked.

For a moment he looked like he was about to say something, but what he did instead surprised you. In a fluid and almost graceful movement, you watched as he pulled himself up and over the four foot stone fence. Your eyes widened in surprise as he landed with a soft thud on the pavement, but you didn’t have time to process what was going on because he was heading over towards you on the bench immediately after.

He sat down beside you slowly, as if he was uncertain that you’d let him. His eyes had never left your face the entire time, and the intensity you found in them had you almost holding your breath. Shifting on the bench, you turned towards him nervously.

“There is nothin’ between Amanda and I,” he told you firmly. “There was in the past, yes, but I told ya before that it was a mistake havin’ an affair with my brother’s wife. And I meant it. I can’t speak for her, but I can tell ya now, I don’t want Amanda. I want you . I want to see what it is that keeps pullin’ me to ya.”

“But what she said–”

“I fucked up,” Michael admitted ardently. “I fucked up and I didn’t say anythin’ that mornin’ because I knew Amanda has had a difficult time grievin’ the loss of Jaime. She’s been strugglin’ with the aftermath of what she–she asked me to do, too. She’s been havin’ a hard time and I didn’t want to start somethin’. Didn't want to make things worse. And I figured ya knew better than to listen to the shit she was spewin’ because I’d thought I’d made it clear ya weren’t a quick fuck.” He sent you a sad smile. “Ya saw how upset I got with Birdy, and she’s the closest thing I’ve got to a mum, Grace. But she threatened ya, and it wasn’t right, so I told her off. Ya have to believe me that it wasn’t intentional when I hurt ya yesterday. I realize now that I fucked up.”

“You did,” you whispered. “That hurt to just stand there and hear your… ex talk about me like that while you just let it happen.”

Michael’s palm landed on your knee over the blanket, his hand firmly grasping it. “I swear to ya, she’ll never speak like that ‘bout ya or to ya again, Grace. I won’t let it happen,” he said with a firm shake of his head. "Ya have my word. Because ya aren't some distraction or a quick fuck. Ya mean more than that to me."

Biting your lip, you held his gaze. Your hands were holding tight to the soft blanket, resisting the urge to lean forward and kiss him after that long-winded an impassioned apology he'd given you. You'd never had a man before take responsibility for their actions and apologize like that. He was right though, he had done all of those things for you and more. Like shielding you from possible gunfire the other day. And he seemed pretty adamant about not having feelings for Amanda.

"Can ya forgive me?" he whispered, his hand timidly leaving your knee and gingerly cupping your cheek. "Let me prove to ya I mean what I say?"

You nodded slowly in response. "Just please don't toy with me, Michael," you murmured.

He shook his head, his thumb stroking your cheek gently. "I would never," he promised. "I feel like shite for unintentionally hurting ya, pet. I never meant to, I swear."

Sending him a small, nervous smile, you opened your arms and in turn partially unwrapped yourself from the blanket. "Are you cold?" you asked.

A little grin slipped onto his lips as he nodded, his hand returning to his side. "Freezin' my arse off, actually," he answered.

You laughed lightly, scooting closer to him on the bench. "Here," you said, offering him some of the blanket.

For a moment the two of you sat flush beside each other, trying to figure out how to wrap the blanket around both you and Michael, but he was vastly broader than Megan. The blanket wasn't quite big enough to wrap around the pair of you.

"I'll be fine without it, Grace," Michael finally said in defeat, beginning to unwrap the blanket from around himself. "Just use it yourself, pet. I don't want ya to get cold."

An idea struck you and your hand flew out to stop him. "Wait," you said.

Michael paused, shooting you a curious look. Ignoring the fluttering of nerves in your stomach at the way he was eyeing you and at what you were about to do, you wrapped your arms around Michael’s neck and pulled yourself up and into his lap. Micheal’s eyes grew wide in shock, his brows shooting up. You bit back a smile at the surprised look on his face, an amused huff of laughter slipping out of you. Michael’s hands instinctively flew around your waist and back, steadying you along his lap as you adjusted yourself.

"Now it'll wrap around both of us," you said.

Taking the blanket from its place behind Michael, you shifted and began wrapping it around both of you. He momentarily released his hold on you to help, pulling the blanket higher up around your shoulders as he did. You grabbed the ends of it to hold it closed before leaning back into Michael’s chest when his arms encircled you again. Your head came to rest against his shoulder and you quickly felt yourself relaxing into him.

“I’d say this is much better,” you said.

“Mhmm,” Michael hummed out in approval, turning his head so he could look at you. “Y’know for bein’ so timid sometimes, you’re quite bold, Grace.”

“Well,” you began, a smile tugging at your lips as you shifted your head along his shoulder, looking back up at him, “I’m usually bold. I blame you for making me nervous sometimes.”

“Ya make me nervous, too,” Michael admitted softly. “Was terrified of talkin’ to ya after what happened yesterday. Afraid I’d completely fucked everythin’ up. Afraid I’d…lost ya already.”

Adjusting your hold on the blanket, maneuvering both ends to your right hand, you slipped your left hand up his neck to gently cradle the side of his face. Silently you held his eyes for a moment, your fingers lightly running along his beard as you stroked his cheek.

“You didn’t lose me, Michael,” you whispered. “I’m still here.”

A broad smile gradually spread across his mouth as he gazed down at you, the warmth of it finally eliminating the sadness that seemed to have been lingering on his face and in his eyes since he’d stepped out of his house this evening. You couldn’t resist the smile that spread on your own face at the sight of it. Michael was a handsome man, there was no doubt about it, but when he smiled like that it left you speechless.

“How ‘bout I cook ya dinner sometime soon?” he asked. “We can figure out a time later this week and I can make things up to ya over some food.”

Your brows rose onto your forehead. “You cook?” you asked.

He chuckled lightly, his smile turning a little sheepish. “A bit, yeah. A few things Birdy taught me, at least. Though I’ll admit, it’s been a bit since I’ve done much cookin’. But if you’re up for it, I’d like to.”

A warm sensation stirred in your chest as you continued to gaze up at him. No one had cooked for you before, especially not Victor. This was new.

“I’d like that,” you whispered.

“Can I consider it our second date?” he murmured, lowering his forehead to yours.

Leaning upwards just a hair, you brushed your lips against his. You felt his mouth immediately respond to the light touch, his lips placing a soft kiss to yours.

“Yes,” you whispered.

Michael’s lips curled into a smile against your own for a moment, and you felt yourself melting into him and his warmth from your place along his lap. You felt safe wrapped in his embrace, his arms firmly holding you to him. With the hand still resting on his cheek, you drew him that last bit of the way towards you, your mouth gently connecting to his in another kiss. Micheal eagerly responded, his arms somehow managing to squeeze you a bit tighter to his solid chest.

This kiss wasn’t like the ones the two of you had shared yesterday morning though. It wasn’t desperate and hungry, but rather unhurried and relaxed. Both of your mouths connecting over and over as if neither of you were in a rush, just taking your time enjoying the moment. It wasn’t long before you forgot all about the chill of the evening, your arms both snaking around Michael’s neck as you further pressed yourself to him, reveling in the taste of him on your tongue as the blanket gradually fell from the pair of you.

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella fluff #michael kinsella #kin (amc)#kin fanfiction

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astheskycries · 7 days

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Official Protected Series Notes

In case anyone missed previous posts, the Protected series has been discontinued. Even so, I'm going to reveal the (edited for grammar and spelling) notes for the entire series that includes original ideas, summaries of the novels that were planned, the original images for the series, and more. I'll of course be putting this all below the cut in order to keep things clean and easy, but please feel free to send in any asks about it and I'll be happy to answer the best I can.

Below is a direct copy and paste from my notes document, only changed to capitalize word vomit notes and to improve grammar.

***********WEDDING VOWS FOR STEVE*********

- "You've taught me so much about life: love, loss, what it means to be cared for above all else. You've kept me together and even when I doubted you, you've still loved me. I want to make you the happiest girl in the world. I want you to never regret choosing me. I love you so much, Felicity Stark, and I always will."

***************WEDDING VOWS FOR TY***************

- "No matter what I've done and who I've been, you've stood by my side, even if you didn't agree. You've kept me safe and never broken your promise to take care of me. You've taught me what it means to be loved by someone, to be worthy of love and attention. I am completely in love with you, Steve, and you couldn't get rid of me if you tried."

ORIGINAL ACCEPTED PLANS/IDEAS

Option A:

HYDRA and jonathan took control of bucky’s and took his mind, and steve is panicked when he finds out the soldier is gone and travels to new york, finding out from tony that she was captured and following the car to where tony’s first weapons manufacturing warehouse (the one blown up in the fight with obediah) and going after her

⁃ Jonathan dies after Maggie went after him and they were fighting and part of the wall explodes and then she's fighting him next to this gaping hole and Steve's running in the compound to reach her and the others watch as she finally knocks him off the building and he dies and she's staring in stunned silence and is horrified that she hurt someone and Steve reaches her and instantly wraps his arms around her before leaning over and seeing the body and all he does is shush her and hold her closer before kissing her hair and then she shoves him away (not roughly) and demands 'what are you doing here?' and Steve asks 'did you think I would let you go?' she opens her mouth to speak, not sure what will come out, but he cuts her off before she can begin. 'I love you, Maggie. I will never let you go again.'

⁃ In end there's a meeting where she's accepted into the avenger's initiative (not an avenger but an honorary trainee) and in the end bucky walks in and Steve stares at him stunned and whispers 'bucky' and then the book cuts off

⁃ Now that Jonathan's dead, Maggie and Steve have to continue taking down HYDRA- which is easier said than done when you're also planning a wedding (wedding is pushed to the end- stress of hydra causes small fights, etc.)

⁃ They argue about something (safety or something) and she snaps 'you forget that I know what it's like to suffer. my mother died because I couldn't make enough money to buy the medicine. we aren't as different as you'd like to think.' and Steve instantly loses the anger and apologizes gently and holds her close as she fights back tears because she feels guilty

⁃ Zoe and bucky end up together somehow (maybe after he woke up and remembered she's the first person he opened up to beside Steve) (Zoe can make it somewhat tough for sergeant Barnes)

Option B:

- Steve is panicked when he finds out the soldier is gone and travels to New York, finding out from tony that she was captured and following the car to where Tony's first weapons manufacturing warehouse (the one blown up in the fight with Obediah) and going after her

⁃ Jonathan dies after Maggie went after him and they were fighting and part of the wall explodes and then she's fighting him next to this gaping hole and Steve's running in the compound to reach her and the others watch as she finally knocks him off the building and he dies and she's staring in stunned silence and is horrified that she hurt someone and Steve reaches her and instantly wraps his arms around her before leaning over and seeing the body and all he does is shush her and hold her closer before kissing her hair and then she shoves him away (not roughly) and demands 'what are you doing here?' and Steve asks 'did you think I would let you go?' She opens her mouth to speak, not sure what will come out, but he cuts her off before she can begin. 'I love you, Maggie. I will never let you go again.’

-When Maggie meets Bucky, he says, 'I heard the punk isn’t treating you right,” He smirks, his eyes getting a devious glint. “Want me to straighten him out?”

⁃They argue about something (safety or something), and she snaps 'you forget that I know what it's like to suffer. my mother died because I couldn't make enough money to buy the medicine. We aren't as different as you'd like to think.' and Steve instantly loses the anger and apologizes gently and holds her close as she fights back tears because she feels guilty

-Zoe and Bucky end up together somehow (maybe after he woke up and remembered she's the first person he opened up to beside Steve) (Zoe can make it somewhat tough for sergeant Barnes)

3.5 UNEXPECTED

⁃ Zoe has spent her life watching Maggie and keeping her safe, but now that she's fallen in love with Captain America, she's lost that job to Steve. Now living for herself, Zoe stumbles across the missing Bucky Barnes- who doesn't want to be found, especially not by someone who can easily alert Steve. Now she's left to help him sift through the memories HYDRA left and possibly show him how to love again.

4 UNHINGED

After finally getting married and settling into their new lives, Maggie and Steve are finally focused on the future of both the Avengers and the rest of the world. It starts off simple enough, but trouble rolls in as Bucky becomes more and more unstable, forcing them to choose between him and the consequences of destroying Jonathan as the couple struggles to hold on.

5 VENGEANCE

After Bucky Barnes' vindication, Steve and Maggie settle into life as the heads of SHIELD and what that truly means for their future. When Steve gets a job offer he can’t refuse, he begins to lead a “normal” life that keeps his family out of danger… At a price. With his boss becoming more and more dangerous as Maggie tries to support Steve and the new Avengers, there could be dark consequences to Steve turning his back on his team- and his wife.

-Steve gets a “normal” job where his boss secretly wants to destroy the avengers, but Steve doesn’t believe Maggie when she tells him because he wants so badly to believe he’s living a normal life and doing the right thing.

Maybe a fifth? unsure

Maybe about the kids

ICONS

Tags: @janeyboo @mylittlefandomfanfictions @palaiasaurus64 @averyrogers83 @guera31 @soulmates8 @coffeebooksandfandom @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @pegasusdragontiger @mizzzpink @onetwo3000 @see-you-again-my-sun-and-stars @sleepylunarwolf @wheresmyplums @smoothdogsgirl @marvelouslyme96 @esoltis280 @jtargaryen18 @k-evans-writes @rainbowkisses31 @buchanansebba @katiew1973 @patzammit @time-for-a-lullaby @openup-yourmind

#protected #protected series #steve #steve rogers #steve fic #steve fanfiction #steve fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfic #captain america #captain america fanfiction #captain america fic #captain america fanfic

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ziracona · 1 month

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I finally got the intro to arc 2 done. Hope you have fun with it! As always, Tumblr gets the update first but before the final editing pass--a little glass half full, glass half empty ^.^' Enjoy: [Fate/GO AU – The Kid (pt: 1, … 22,23, 24, 25, 26, ?)]{Some spoilers for original Grand Order run/through Temple of Time, vaguer situational spoilers for later arcs}

“Roman?”

“Mmmmmhmmmph,” I groan unhappily, unhappy to have heard anything. I shift a little, trying to stay unconscious, because it’s better in here.

“Sorry, but you gotta wake up sometime soon. We’ve got like 100 people with guns who aren’t super happy about the 200 new people we just dropped on them without guns,” comes a woman’s voice, “You and I can take a real rest when we’re dead. Or when nobody’s looking. Which I wish was right now, but.”

I hear her, unfortunately, and I’m awake enough to know what the words mean, so I sigh, then scrunch up my face and drag my eyes open. I do not expect to find the blurry face of Da Vinci looking right down at me from above.

“…Da Vinci?” I double-check, squinting up at her. Yeah. I’m pretty sure it is.

“Oh wow, you actually woke up,” she says, patting my shoulder sympathetically, “I know you’re beat to hell, but, I’d love it if you cared to confirm what happened.”

“…Where is everyone else?” I ask, blinking and trying to shake off the lingering weight in my head. I feel sort of terrible, and sort of peaceful, somehow at the same time. It’s bizarre. Right. I shouldn’t feel peaceful at all right? Because there’s a lot of people to explain things to, who are upset and worried. And then there’s the whole situation to…to try and fix…

I look back up at Da Vinci, since she hasn’t answered me. My vision is starting to clear, and now that I can see her face, I realize she looks…sad. No, sad and happy. Nostalgic? Homesick? She’s looking at me like I have seen David look at me a few times now, when he thinks I’m not paying attention. Like it’s painful, in a way that is deeply good.

I…feel guilty, that I don’t know her. For all I know, she could be lying about knowing me, I guess, and I’m not a naïve person, but, I don’t think she is. And it makes me sorry.

There’s a little crackle in my head then, which I feel an instinct to panic at, because, you know, how could that be a good sound for the inside of a head? But then I hear her thoughts slipping through the space between us:

“I missed this. How can I be so sad? How can I miss him so painfully, while talking to him, face to face? I feel like I’m watching a memory, but, I’m not. Not this time.”

My stomach drops as I realize I’m unintentionally getting her thoughts.

“He looks so like he always did. Tired and cheerful and steady. He was our rock, and I’m not really sure I ever thanked him for that. That wasn’t my job. My job was keeping us alive, and giving him a hard time. But still, someone should have said it. It wasn’t easy. I know, because once he died, I had to be him. Dying the best you can for the people around you, and asking those kids who are like your own by now to live, and live happy, with the weight of the world on their shoulders? Is even worse.”

It ends then as soon as it began, with another crackle in my head like static, and I know I did not make that happen, but I still feel deeply wrong. I know whatever caused it, it wasn’t her either, and it was an intrusion; I wasn’t meant to hear it. I wish I’d been awake enough to think of a way to stop it.

I…I should be thinking about how to play this, or that this is confirmation then, that I am certainly going to die, because that’s important, but then, I’ve known that all along, right? And it’s not what I’m thinking. I’m thinking: “Wow. After everything, you have someone who misses you this much.” I should feel anything but reassured, but it’s all I feel. Peace. Or…gratefulness. I guess if only one of us two being able to remember it all, in the end, was enough for me then, then only one of us remembering at the start, here, is good enough for me, too.

Okay focus. She’s still staring into space. Maybe you can…

“Da Vinci…?” I ask, deciding to act like nothing just happened and hope she doesn’t know, “Did something happen? You look worried?”

“Not really,” she sighs, refocusing her mask with precision and speed, and putting on a smile while making a grand little shrug, “But you sure left us a situation. You try explaining the shit we just pulled to a room of angry mages sometime, and see how you like it.”

“Did anyone-?!” I ask with sudden fear.

“—Nobody got hurt,” she chides, “You think I wouldn’t have mentioned that? Your staff heard what you said before you passed out. We’ve got a bunch of confused civilians, which aren’t a threat, and a Holy Grail War’s worth of heroic spirits, which are, but are too much of one for them to want to start something. If they wanted to try to shoot us, they’d be doomed. And we have no reason to want to shoot them either. So no one did anything. It’s just been extremely uncomfortable.”

“Where am I?” I ask, blinking at the ceiling above me, and turning my head to try and see the room, and somehow only then realizing I’m using her lap as a pillow. Shit. I try to shoot up immediately, but she snags me and drags me back down. “-H-Hey!”

“Easy!” comes Makeda’s voice, from somewhere.

HUH?

“Hold still if you would? We’re sort of in the middle of something,” she says apologetically, and I see her as she steps into my field of view.

That’s reassuring, I think with intense distrust. “The middle of what?”

“Welllll,” says Da Vinci awkwardly, “Heh heh. Uh.” She gestures to the ground, and I turn my head from my prone position and see intensely complex sigil work on the ground. Makeda is holding a brush and ink, and seems to have been in the middle of adding more.

“What the hell are you two doing?” I reiterate, because this has absolutely cleared nothing up.

“We’re doing a spell,” says Makeda, “A divination. There’s a lot of strange stuff going on—I expect with you too, after the way you passed out. I’m happy to explain all of it, but a lot of it seems to be connected to you, so we’re using you as the focal point. I need you to more or less stay still. You can move your arms, and head, if you want!” she adds like it will cheer me up.

“We uh, thought you’d be unconscious longer,” says Da Vinci apologetically.

“It won’t hurt you,” promises Makeda.

I sigh. I know, I realize as I think it, and wonder why I was so concerned in the first place. I guess it’s that as out of control as all of this is, I want as many fragments of control as I can get, just to hang onto. Okay, Romani. Deep breaths. Calm down, and focus.

“Alright, go ahead. But please, do explain,” I add, unhappily accepting my fate. Couldn’t they have just gotten me a blanket and pillow or something?

Da Vinci sympathetically reaches down and rubs my shoulders absently, which in other circumstances sould be incredibly weird, but given…everything. I just really don’t care. I sigh again and accept it.

At least it feels good, and I feel like I’ve been thrown down a flight of steps.

You could have picked a better bench, though, I think just a little bitterly. I have no idea what conference room we’re in right now, because they all look the same, but the padding is too firm for a nap to be ideal. I’m going to be so sore after this… I guess at least Da Vinci’s contribution might save my neck.

“Well, you passed out, and we got to talking,” says Makeda as she goes back to finishing the edges of her sigil circle, I’m pretty sure massively sugar-coating the situation after I passed out, “And it was very easy to pick up that Chaldea wasn’t on the same timeline as us—that is to say—in the common sense. It’s our metaphysical timeline, obviously, but they seem to be a full two months ahead of the rest of the world.”

“So, for them, three days ago was the turn of the year,” says Da Vinci.

“Right.” I knew that part, and I guess Da Vinci can see it on my face, because she nods.

“I thought so,” says Da Vinci, pleased, “Just to cement a few things, can you confirm what happened when you exited the shadow border?”

Sure. Why not. “I got hit with a second set of memories,” I reply, “Both felt equally real, which was very disorienting, because they contradicted. The influx of that much detailed, emotional, and complex information all at once, overloaded my already very tired brain, and I passed out for…?”

“Two and a half hours,” says Makeda, glancing over.

“-Two and a half hours,” I finish.

“And this new set of memories?” prods Da Vinci.

I shrug the best I can on my back with my head in her lap. “About what I think you already expect. It was of being here, when Chaldea went through the turn of the year. I survived a bombing that took out most of the base, and the betrayal of a staff member. Ritsuka Fujimaru’s brother, Akira, and Mash both survived the bombing miraculously, by being rayshifted out. Our director ended up with them—Olga Marie Animusphere. We—the surviving staff—were able to fix enough equipment to contact them and try to help. They’d been transported to one point of history targeted by Goetia, Fuyuki city, during a holy grail war. A servant who’d lost his master helped them, thankfully—uh—an alter, of our Lancer, Cu Chulainn—oddly. They were able to succeed, and repair the broken point in time, just barely. The traitor to our organization, Lev Lainur, attacked our director, and took her out of commission, indefinitely. Then was killed. It was terrible. They’re just kids, and they went through hell with no preparation. I couldn’t be more proud of what they accomplished, or feel more awful, that they had to do it at all.”

They’re quiet this time, both of them. I guess it was more than they thought I’d say.

Honestly, it still feels so real I could throw up, and like a bad dream. I feel even more guilty over that. I get this…free sense of dissociation, to help me cope, and I didn’t even have to be there to see it first hand. God. The poor kids. Ritsuka too. Ritsuka, Akira, Mash, all the civilians—even our heroic spirits, who are tanks among men have all been put through hell. We need a break. They need a break.

“I’m sorry,” says Da Vinci, stopping her shoulder rub to pat me on the shoulder, “That is about what we’d gathered, though.”

“It’s not your fault,” says my father, popping up from over the back of a nearby chair he’s apparently been sitting in, and I just about jump out of my skin.

“Were you there the whole time?!” I ask.

“Of course,” he says in disbelief, “Did you think I wouldn’t keep an eye on you?” He clicks his tongue at me and crosses his arms over the back of the chair to lean on it. “As I was saying, you did everything the best you could, and it sounds to me like it’s been enough. The Fujimarus were ecstatic to see each other, and he and Mash both had a lot to say about how you got everyone through this.”

I don’t know if I believe him, but I’m too exhausted to consider arguing with my dad right now. I guess I appreciate it either way.

“Where are the kids?” I ask as it occurs to me, and I accidentally start to sit up on impulse, and am very kindly pushed back into place by Da Vinci, “—Sorry.”

“They’re outside,” says Da Vinci, “It’s just Sheba, me, and David in here with you. The kids all wanted in, but we forced them to stay outside—both so we could do the spell, and just in case there was anything you wouldn’t be ready to tell them as soon as you woke up, with whatever was going on. We three already know all your secrets.”

“Thanks…I think,” I say, then double-take, “Wait—you know all my—?!”

“Yes. Obviously,” she replies proudly, “Remember? I knew you later. It’s all old news to me.”

I start to say something, but then I remember what I accidentally heard, and I don’t. She looks at me quizzically.

“…When did we meet, the first time?” I ask instead as something occurs to me.

She smiles a softer smile, pleased. “Oh. A few months from now. –Or, a few days, depending on the memory set.”

Ah. I smile back as it clicks. “You’re the first successful summon, aren’t you?”

“Clever boy,” she replies.

“And you chose to stay and help? And became the…’technical advisor’?” I ask.

She nods. “Most of the building was blown up. Why not give me a title? You were the only staff head left. Although, I guess by now you know that.”

“Yes,” I say, glancing away and fiddling absently with one of my gloves. Even if I wasn’t close to everyone here, and some of them were awful people, it’s so much death. And not everyone deserved it—not by a long, long shot. It’s…

“You really need to start watching your health better.”

I look up in surprise to see David shaking his head at me.

I give him something between a grimace and a smile. “If I had any choice in the matter, believe me.”

“Well, if you won’t do it yourself, I will,” he warns pleasantly.

Terrifying.

“You do remember both sets of memories fully, right?” asks Sheba. She seems to have finished her sigil, because she walks back over and kneels by the bench and holds out a hand for me. I take it, and feel her magical energy fill the room like a wave lapping at the beach: soft, gentle, but unstoppable in sheer mass and power if circumstances change. “We weren’t totally sure that after…”

“-Experiencing a temporal displacement overlap?” suggests Da Vinci.

“-It would be smooth,” continues Sheba, “That’s also part of why we wanted you to get a chance to talk to us first. Everyone out there is hoping you’re ‘their’ Romani, but, you’re ours regardless of what information you retained. We both knew you from before,” adds Sheba, gesturing to Da Vinci and herself with her free hand.

“-And any version of you is my ‘Romani Archaman,’” says David, playful inflection on my new name.

“We just couldn’t get rid of him,” explains Sheba tiredly.

Unsurprising. David is a force. “Well, everyone’s about to be relieved, I guess, because I have all of both,” I confirm. Hadn’t even occurred to me that people would be worried about that, but, of course they would be.

“I’m not surprised, but it’s still a relief to hear,” says Da Vinci, “By all accounts from the Chaldea staff, it’s January, and you’ve been here the whole time. Actually—you are on-camera, vanishing, the second the door to the Border opened. There’s a little ‘flicker’ and the you at your desk is gone. The you at the Border flickers twice, like an electromagnetic spike, and then the video is normal, but you’re a half foot to the left.”

“Fascinating,” I say, not sure exactly what that means, “I’d have thought it would be when we finished the zero sail, not opened the door. I wonder if it’s a temporal delay, or if there’s more weight triggered seeing yourself face to face when it comes to time fluctuation than I’d thought?”

“So, convergence set aside for the moment without enough information to pursue it, what’s the point of divergence?” asks Makeda, something in her tone suggesting this is a much more important question.

“Oh, uhm…” I scrunch up my brow, thinking it over, “…The…day I heard about Ur-Shanabi, I think.”

David looks very interested by this.

“It’s…strange. My memories since the Incineration are very strong in both versions, but…the time at Chaldea leading up to it is…foggy,” I continue, a little disturbed to find this as I go, “…I. I hadn’t noticed, until you asked, but…”

“It’s the same for the others,” says Makeda, “When we heard their accounts, we checked some of the readings from SHEBA-“ She pauses to give me a coy smile in recognition of the device being named for her, and I flush.

God, I used to have so much game. The only thing my second life is giving is anxiety.

“—and saw a lot of distortion. After being quizzed closely, everyone here we’ve been able to talk to, only remembers the time before what I’m assuming is the day a version of you heard about Ur-Shanabi, and the time since December 31st on. They have…ideas, and impressions—generalities—of the rest of the time. But, it’s more like it’s there to sustain the jump in time, than of enough material stability to be truly real.”

“That’s so bizarre,” I say, truly fascinated, and again starting to sit up on instinct so I can truly think. Both women pull me down this time. Right. “Sorry. So, the version of me who summoned you inside Unlimited Blade Works, that timeline, I do have concrete memories of the days since I heard about Ur-Shanabi. Which makes the second set the anomaly, I think.”

“I’m inclined to agree, to a point,” says Makeda.

“To a point?” I ask.

“In the other timeline, the one that’s mostly just since the end of the year, did you not go to Ur-Shanabi, or not hear of it?” asks Da Vinci, ignoring my question.

“I never heard of it,” I say, “Which…should be impossible. It’s not like I heard about it in the other in some passing comment.”

I do not love that. Or that they could guess so on their own. I don’t have a good feeling about this.

“Do you think someone meddled with your memory?” asks Sheba.

“…No,” I say, glancing down at her, “I…think someone meddled with time.”

“Yes,” agrees Da Vinci, “They absolutely did. But we weren’t sure if they did both.”

“Why though?” I ask, “Shit—wait! If Chaldea is past January first, then, we’re no longer somewhere we’re seeing the effects of Goetia’s actions before he’s taken them are we? So-”

“-No, we’re still ahead of schedule,” says Makeda calmingly, giving me a smile.

I can still feel her magical energy pulsing through me and the room slowly, in steady beats, like a heart at rest. It occurs to me to wonder finally what exactly she’s doing.

“That’s what we were able to use your SHEBA observational lens to discover. It’s the first—well, second, after making sure you really were alright—thing that we checked. It’s like this space, just the building, is in its own bubble,” adds Makeda.

“Couldn’t Goetia be in one too?” I ask dubiously.

“No,” says David happily. I look over at him. “She checked,” adds my father smugly, pointing to Makeda.

“Really?” I ask.

She nods gracefully, long hair cascading over her deep brown shoulders. It’s been so long, but I’ve never forgotten how smart or how beautiful she was.

“Thank you, Makeda,” I say softly.

“For you? Of course,” she replies.

“So, you’ve already found him then?” I ask as it occurs to me.

“Uhhhhm,” says Da Vinci, and she teeters a hand in a ‘kind of’ gesture.

Makeda sighs, looking worried. “It keeps…changing.”

“Every time we lock on, the coordinates shift,” says Da Vinci.

“He’s moving?” I ask in surprise.

“No. The coordinates shift as if they’ve always been something else. The log always reads completely changed, all two hours of it, in an instant—as if it’s performed one search function, and gotten the same answer. But what’s on the screen changes about every two seconds—it’s half real, half moving, and half make-believe,” says Makeda.

“That’s not…possible,” I say, thinking quickly. I’m missing something obvious, because I’m exhausted, and I can’t afford to.

“No, it’s not,” agrees Da Vinci, and I look up from where I’m still stuck on her lap, and see her watching me with those fixed, calculating clear eyes. I think about what I shouldn’t have heard her think, and for some insane reason, I feel desperate to live up to my own future reputation.

“…It’s not real yet,” I say. It was a question when I thought it, but it’s a statement as it exits my lips.

“That’s what we think,” agrees Makeda, closing her eyes, and I feel an intense increase in her magical output.

For few seconds, we are all quiet, waiting. I feel her familiar circuits where her hands hold mine, and I feel a sudden pause in the heartbeat-like pulse of her magical energy.

It’s like time has stopped.

The energy holds, but she opens her eyes, which glow like a breathing galaxy.

“I’ve got it,” she says in an inhuman voice, and then the tide of her energy ebbs back into her, soft and controlled like it filled the room, and she releases my hand.

“What’s the news?” asks Da Vinci excitedly, seeming to forget she’s holding my head, and bending over so far towards Makeda that her stomach is smashing me.

“Can I get up now?” comes my muffled voice.

“Yes,” says Makeda apologetically.

Da Vinci sits back and I drag myself up, still and sore, and lean against the bench seatback, rubbing my face, and trying to get sensation back in my limbs. Makeda climbs up beside us, on my other side, and, apparently feeling left out, David drags his chair closer, then climbs back in.

“We were right,” says Makeda, to both Da Vinci and me, “It’s a spell.”

“A…” That is cosmically not what I thought was going on, or said. I—I guess she means about Goetia’s location not being real yet.

“A spell…” says Da Vinci, who I personally think from her expression, also did not actually think that’s what was going on.

Weirdly, I look at David, and he, alone, seems unsurprised. What do you know, old man…

“Can you elaborate?” I ask.

“Well,” says Makeda, “We’re not a singularity, and we’re not a lostbelt.” A what? “We’re built a little like one or the other though. Or a wish.”

“Like a grail?” suggests Da Vinci rather dubiously.

“Only in vague concept,” says Makeda, then, reconsidering, “…But, in vague concept, not a bad analogy. The ways in which we are similar to a singularity or lostbelt is in nature—partially complete and partially real, still growing—not in function. Functionally, more like a grail. The same way holy grail rituals have set rules and functions, so do most rituals and big magic. And this is certainly a function of intricate structure.” She suddenly looks embarrassed to be explaining this, to me, I assume because of my rank.

“So, the timeline we’re on has been altered. In a very significant way, from its original. It’s not a naturally occurring alternate timeline, but an intentionally constructed one,” I say, then pause, to consider. “…Any guess as to by who?”

She looks at me for a long few seconds, and then says, “No,” but I can’t help but feel there’s more to it than that.

“Okay,” I say, not pressing her for the moment, and moving on to the question I don’t want to ask, but know I have to, “…Can you tell if this…aberration, is it dangerous, like a singularity? Is it…are we hurting the world, by existing?”

Makeda shakes her head.

Oh thank God.

“Whatever we are, we’re not convergent, or concurrent,” adds Makeda, “Even if we’re not an alternate timeline in the natural sense, whatever bubble we are, it’s its own in the same way one would be. It’s magic, but, it’s magic not growing or building in opposition to, well, anything. It’s…disconnected. In ways that are zero sum.”

“Alright,” I say, feeling a few worlds better, “Then. …Whoever, and whyever they started whatever this…spell is, if it’s still in construction—if the magic is still in process—that probably means we either need to dismantle it, which, if it’s not dangerous, I’d very much prefer not to do, since in this timeline we could save a whole lot of lives by reaching Goetia before he acts, and uh, well, I have to assume this version of all of us would probably die—or, we’ve got to finish it—the spell, I mean—get it to cement—so it doesn’t deviate, or unravel.”

“Exactly,” agrees Makeda, “I think that’s where we should start.”

“Great! A plan,” says David happily, “So, how much are we telling the others?”

I hold up a hand. “Before that—you said this is some sort of spell. You mean magic—not magecraft, but magic. Like, First Magic.”

“I do,” says Makeda, “It’s the only class of magic that could do something like this.”

“What do we know,” I ask, ‘we’ meaning ‘her’.

Makeda sighs and places her chin in her hand, bouncing a leg absently as she thinks it over. “This?” she decides after a moment, glancing over at the rest of us, “Doesn’t leave this room. Not until we’re sure it should.”

I nod, and see Da Vinci move in my periphery.

“Alright,” says Makeda, and she opens the little lamp she carries, and smoke billows out, forming distinct shapes in the air as she sways her fingers through it, like the shadow puppet show of a master.

“Da Vinci and I have matching knowledge of another timeline. That alone isn’t odd. But in it, we know of events and people spanning from before the Age of Gods,” A sprawling mountain and a cloud city appear, floating islands of smoke, desert kingdoms, "to the distant future.” Building shapes from countries around the globe and centuries apart, fell into a timeline. Frontiers, temples, castles, modern skyscrapers, and past them, massive space ships. “We, should be here.” She indicates a modern urban skyline in her set of smoke-made history. “And we are. Ritsuka should be, and she is. Akira wasn’t at Chaldea, but him being here isn’t really odd. You’re mostly where you should be. But some people, are missing.”

Here, she makes a handful of figures out of the curling whisps, and then passes her fingers through them and watches them go.

“What’s more,” she continues, “A lot more, is that there are a considerable amount of people who shouldn’t be in this time, who are.”

Makeda raises a hand to her lips and exhales like she is blowing a kiss. Smoke forms humanoid figures along far separated points on the timeline, and they lift from those places by floating cities and icy mountains and desert sands, and settle into the urban skyline.

“Actually, they shouldn’t be at all,” she says, eyes on something far away, no changes in her smoke story this time, “At least many of them, should never have existed. Yet, here they are.” She looks at me. “And not transported, and confused. Here they are like they’ve always been, with normal memories and normal lives, somehow, in spite of everything, alive.”

“People who should never be?” I ask, a sinking feeling in my chest.

“It will take a little while to explain to you fully, but for now, people who lived in versions of time that only existed at all by destroying the time around them, and whose broken time had to be corrected, that is, erased,” says Makeda softly.

I nod, and keep quiet. I can imagine, since I’d been a little afraid after waking up with two sets of memories, that I could be a version of me that shouldn’t exist.

“Our reality, it’s real,” says Makeda, refocusing, “But instead of starting at the beginning of time and moving forward, as time is meant to, it starts here.” She indicates a point not long before what she’s designated as ‘now.’ “And it grows forwards and backwards from there. No, grows isn’t the right word. It…’becomes set.’ Like a writer starting a book in the middle: the beginning happened, because otherwise the characters wouldn’t be who they are, or have memories of their upbringing, or loved ones they share a past with. But it’s not stable, until it’s on paper, because once the writer forgets, there will be nothing to hold it all in place.”

A terrifying metaphor, I think, but I don’t say it.

“Whatever, or whoever, caused this,” says Makeda, “it hasn’t stopped working. But it’s magic still in progress. At a guess, something has to be…done, or ‘finished’—fulfilled—for the ritual to be complete, and the timeline to stay. If it doesn’t, it’ll collapse back in on itself, and…”

“…And we all cease to exist,” I say shakily.

“Well,” she offers me a sympathetic smile, “This version of us.”

That’s great for the heroic spirits, I guess, but it really sucks for the rest of us. God, especially the ones she says ‘shouldn’t exist’ at all anymore. It’s…a heavy fate, that. Not to be taken lightly…

“And this point?” I ask, tapping the little swirl of smoke she’s left to indicate the start point. The smoke is surprisingly warm to the touch, and almost thick enough to feel soft to me.

Makeda watches me with her bright eyes full of their knowledge and sight. “You, Solomon.”

I am so taken aback I don’t know what to say.

“Me?” I check after a full ten, very suddenly awkward seconds.

“Don’t you mean ‘Romani’?” asks David, whom I’d completely forgotten was even in the room with us, and it makes me jump.

To my surprise though, when I look over, he’s not joking. He’s being pointed about the name.

“What,” he says, looking from one of us to the other, “That’s about when you would have been ‘reborn’ into a last life, right?”

He points and I look at the timeline again, and my breath catches in my throat.

“How many terrible things did I cause?” Wait, did I say that out loud?

“Not terrible,” says Da Vinci, patting my shoulder with one of her gloved hands, “So long as we can keep this thing going, it’s good.”

“Very, I would say,” agrees Makeda, and again, I see in her face that there’s something she knows she’s not telling me, and I’m sure she has her reasons, but it distresses me a lot not to know. This is beyond high stakes universe poker. This is all or nothing, eleventh hour Russian roulette shit.

“That’s not all,” adds Da Vinci, stretching, and looking very gleeful to have her own lore to share, “I ran some tests when you were out because something about Ur-Shanabi has been bothering me ever since the others told me about it.”

“And?” says David with interest.

“And,” says Da Vinci, looking annoyed to be interrupted, “There’s been a change in the world state. You know how in a holy grail war, the ritual is designed so when a heroic spirit dies, their energy is used to fill the grail—to power it, more or less.”

We give our various forms of assent.

“Well, it struck me really odd the Counter Force would let something like that go on so long without proper recourse, and it wasn’t apparently even Alaya that finally sent in the Counter Force Agent we’ve got—Ritsuka summoned him. But, when something like a grail war is on, the Counter Force tends to be less active. Rituals bring their own, shitty ass rules, and tend to be allowed more—some might even say inadvisable –catastrophic damage.”

“Yes,” agrees Makeda, “It’s about the way magic works. Even the universe itself, is bound by rules. That’s why the Counter Force has to use agents in the first place. Even power has limitations.”

“So, I looked into it,” continues Da Vinci, “And the way this thing works, the whole world is…sort of designed to soak power up, from everything, but especially from people.”

“That’s horrible,” I say, disturbed.

“Not really,” she disagrees, leaning forward and gesturing broadly, “See, it’s not like a leech. It’s designed to soak power out of people only when they’re trying to give power—like—it’s in a hyper-high-performance catalyst state. But it’s not forcing anything—people aren’t all slowly taking magic-radiation-damage or something. It’s just wildly amplifying and accelerating physics around energy and its transfer, when it comes to magic specifically. Heroic Spirits, though, we’re made of magical energy. And with the rules around magical energy, and the transformation and transfer of it altered—altered to make the change in form easier, not just when it’s offered from or created by humans, but in all forms. Well. ...”

“The physical structure of anything made of magical energy entirely has become a vulnerability,” I say, mental calculations locking into place, “The same way Achilles’ heel would be, or Samson’s hair.”

“Exactly,” says Da Vinci, way too happy about this.

“Well that’s genuinely terrifying,” I say.

She shrugs, a grin on her face. “At least we know what we’re up against. Half the battle.”

“I suppose so,” I agree a little uncertainly.

“Anyway, the other half of the issue may be that we’re not the only ones to have figured that out,” adds Da Vinci.

“Meaning who?” I ask, “I mean—obviously if Ur-Shanabi had it working, it was only a matter of time before someone else did too, but. The world is currently…well, incinerated. It seems like one problem takes care of the other, in the temporary anyway.”

“Well, you know how when she described what was happening with Goetia, you said ‘it’s not real yet’?” asks Da Vinci.

Makeda raises a hand and gestures to her smoke tapestry, and it begins to curl and dissipate, leaving a few floating ‘islands’ almost, as it were, along what was once a solid timeline. “Goetia’s attacks, when they come for real, target specific points in history, to de-stabilize and collapse the timeline. We know where, from our own memories, and the data we’ve been able to run with the effects already in place here. But the thing is…”

Slowly, almost delicately, Maketa weaves her fingers into the smoke, and then tugs like the is pulling it apart, and the image shifts from a 2D image, to a three-dimensional timeline, pieces splitting away in different direction. Of these, a select few’s smoke begins to shift into shades of pink, and I am sure this must be the ones Goetia has picked, because I recognized the 2004 Fuyuki a version of me has just vicariously experienced as one of them. Other pieces stay their original, almost purple shade of grey, and then a few more begin to turn a cyan blue. These, as Makeda makes a circular motion with her index finger, begin to rotate.

“They aren’t the only points reading as anomalies,” said Makeda, turning to look at me, “Da Vinci is till collecting data, and we expect it to take a while, but…”

“What we know for sure, is the Counter Force is—or at least was—active in all of them,” says Da Vinci, “But as far as we can tell, Goetia wasn’t.”

I look at the blue points on the map unhappily, and let out an exhale. “And…these all activated in the years between now, and 1985.”

Da Vinci gives me a sympathetic grimace.

“Well, think of it this way!” suggests David, “That certainly limits the damage, and narrows down the search area. Besides.”

He tries to reach way forward and tap Makeda’s smoke diagram, and his hand goes right through it, dissipating an image.

“Since what Ur-Shanabi did was considered ‘breakthrough research,’” he continues, totally nonplussed, “I would bet a lot of money that the points before the last couple years won’t have deeply significant change. If they had, someone in the mage world would have heard about it.”

Da Vinci and Makeda both look annoyed by this, but Da Vinci mutters, “…He’s probably right,” rather unhappily, and my father grins.

“See?” says David, reaching too far forward to try and pat me on the shoulder, and just having to latch onto it instead to not fall off the chair, “All good.”

“Well, that part is an overstatement, but, he’s right it’s not an immediate threat,” says Makeda, miffed, and she waves her hands and the smoke curls back inside the lamp she wears at her belt. “In the meantime, you should go talk to your staff and the others and let them know you’re alright.”

“Yeah,” agrees Da Vinci happily, swinging her feet in anticipation while she watches David very awkwardly make it back upright in his chair, “I’ll keep running calculations and try to get some kind of gameplan together. But we need more data before doing anything concrete.”

“I’ll help,” I say, honestly just relieved to have a little breathing room.

“You will NOT,” says my father sharply, “Not until you get some proper sleep! Look at you!” He gestures broadly with both arms. “You’re a wreck! You’ve been up for three days straight, and went comatose from memory bombardment for almost two hours! You’re exhausted! You transplanted a magic crest, onto yourself, then summoned two heroic spirits inside a reality marble, and stayed up for another forty hours!”

“I, uh,” I try awkwardly, taken aback.

David crosses his arms and eyes me. “You and Ritsuka are both going to take a rest. You act like you forget, son, but you’re only human now. The last thing anybody needs is you to work yourself to death. Or past usefulness.”

I wish he didn’t have a point, but I feel like death warmed over. Still… “I should be able to help though, and it’s-“

I was going to say ‘my fault in the first place,’ but all three turn to look at me as one with such a united front of deeply terrifying energy, like a pack of guard dogs just itching for the command sick ‘em to come,that I don’t.

“…I think David is right,” says Da Vinci, recovering her mask of pleasantness first, and smiling at me with her eyes shut. She pats me on the shoulder. “You can come help in the morning.”

“…Yes,” says Makeda simply, but the way she says it has an undercurrent of chilling.

I’m not getting out of this… “Alright, alright,” I say as I feel the pressure in the room begin to grow tense again, and I put my hands up, “I’ll rest. But, I do need to talk to staff first, at least a little, to explain things—and the kids.” God, poor Mash. She is so inclined to worry, too.

“That’s fine!” says Da Vinci, her same eyes-shut smile still on, “Just don’t stall too long.”

“Yes,” agrees David, hopping out of his chair and offering me a hand, “Let’s do that.”

I let him help me up, but the second he lets go, I almost lose my balance, with my legs so completely asleep, and me so dead-tired. The instant I do, David, Makeda, and Da Vinci all make a move at the same time to help me, and I can’t help but laugh, a deep, full body laugh, as I catch myself and then straighten up on my own, feeling a lot better now.

“It’s so funny,” I say, glancing from one to the other with a smile, “I’ve been the most isolated I think I’ve been my entire existence, for months, and now that things have really fallen apart, I’m surrounded.”

Da Vinci smiles back. “Good.”

I nod. “Good indeed.”

As I wait for my painfully asleep legs to get some feeling back in them, I survey the room for real for the first time. “Where are we right now, anyway? Which conference room is this?”

“It’s the one closest to the command room,” says Da Vinci.

I nod. Finally getting a little painful feeling back, I take a few steps towards the door, testing my balance. Ow.

As we begin to walk, my whole little horde of tag-alongs staying suspiciously within ‘he might fall again’ distance, David says, “Question, Miss Da Vinci. You seemed to know Ritsuka, from Chaldea, but it’s her brother here who’s done this Rayshift, which should be how you meet, or met her, in the future. And then you said it was odd for him to be the one in the Fuyuki singularity, but not very odd. So, was it both of them who helped you, originally?”

“No,” says Da Vinci, seeming surprised—by the question, or by it being from my father, I’m not sure, “I’ve never met the brother before, although I knew he existed.”

“Interesting,” says David.

Interesting indeed.

“Where are the kids?” I ask.

“Didn’t I tell you?” asks Da Vinci, “They’re outside.”

“W—You mean in the hall?” I ask, taken aback, “They’re not resting?” Ritsuka is dead on her feet, and Akira and Mash just returned from a rayshift like three hours before we arrived!

Da Vinci shrugs. “Like father like-” She stops and almost seems a little flustered, then just offers me an impish grin.

Weird, I think, since it’s really no secret I see Mash as a daughter, to anyone. I guess I probably deserve that though. …Damn it! WHY didn’t I do a better job at teaching her to prioritize her health? Stupid! Kids watch what you DO, not just what you say! Stupid stupid! Bad job, Romani! Bad job!!

“Okay, well, let’s fix that too,” I say, increasing speed towards the door. God knows we ask enough of them as it is. I hope they haven’t been too exhausted and miserable out there.

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

“I just can’t believe you’re here!” says Akira, beaming at me, “I mean, what are the chances?!”

“I know!” I chirp. I’ve been grinning so hard the past few hours that it hurts my cheeks, but I’ll never stop! “And you?! Holy crap! The Last Master of Humanity??”

“No-no!” he corrects, his mouth full of the pb&j he’s been working, raising a hand and then pointing from me to him, “The Last Masters of Humanity.”

I laugh.

“Like, go Fujimaru twins, am I right?” he asks, mouth even fuller as he takes another bite.

I elbow him. “Don’t do that! Didn’t dad teach you manners? Not in front of a kouhai!”

He chokes on the pb&j and desperately grabs his milk bottle to help wash it down, then after a solid swallow, gives his friend an apologetic little, “Sorry Mash.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” she replies hurriedly, flushing at us both, “I know you’re hungry and tired.”

“Well, you must be too, right?” I say, offering her a box of pocky.

Hesitantly, the purple haired girl just a year or so younger than me, takes the box and opens it, giving me a little smile.

Mash is neat. We’ve all only been talking for like, two hours or something—it can’t possibly have been that long since my group even arrived—but, I like her. Somehow, she feels like somebody I’ve known all my life. I guess she just must be that kind of person. And, it makes me happy. And relieved.

She’s timid, and quiet. Big eyes, soft voice, always watching the stuff around her like a baby deer taking in the world. But, from Akira’s stories I’ve been getting, she’s also like, super brave and dependable. And a ‘Demi-Servant,’ which, as far as I gather, is a heroic spirit kind of reverse-possessing someone, so instead of them getting the body, they let a normal living human use their power. Apparently, back when the building exploded, Mash got trapped under a fallen pillar, and my brother went and was going to die like a hero holding her hand while another bomb went off, so she wouldn’t be alone (a story she told me trying not to cry, and while staring firmly at the ground, while he turned the reddest I’ve ever seen him, and also looked so, so smug). But instead of either dying, they were saved by whoever is letting Mash use their heroic spirit power, and got rayshifted out.

Rayshifted, as far as I gather, is like teleporting and time travel. Okay, mechanically, it’s more like going to another plane in D&D, where you’ve got a thread connecting your body to a duplicate body, but if one dies the other is in big trouble—you know what—I don’t get all the science. Miss Da Vinci said you’re broken down into your spiritrons, and those are transported to other coordinates in time and space, and re-assembled. So, I wouldn’t know how to do it, but, I get what it does, which I think for me is the important half.

Anyway, when time got incinerated in the city, apparently it was because specific points in history were getting messed up, and my bro and Mash went and repaired one. So one ‘Singularity’ is now stabilized, and, if they fix them all, the world will come back.

So far, it’s been a crazy ride—I mean, his story might be even wilder than mine. And we’re both not even totally done telling the stories. We’ve really only covered bare-bones.

But anyway, to me, the important part is that he’s here and okay and alive, and that this can all be fixed. And, that I’m really glad Mash was here. Akira is brave, but we’ve always done stuff together. We’re strong because we were born with somebody to lean on—I think that’s part of why I’ve been able to do so well with these heroic spirits helping me, despite not being very good at magecraft: I literally came out of the womb as part of a team.

Akira’s the same. We’re strong when we have somebody to lean on, and to prop up, but not alone. And, while I wasn’t here, Mash has done that for him—really reliably!

Plus, I think, smiling as I watch her chomping on the pocky with more gusto than I’ve ever seen anybody else eat it, like a toddler trying ice cream the first time, I bet they’re good for each other. He’s got a lot of charisma and adaptability and he knows how to make you smile when it’s rough, so you can keep going. Mash sounds like she’d be there to be a voice of reason, and pull you up when you fall, but might need somebody who can make her feel like it’s okay for her to smile and talk more too. I bet they’re going to be great friends.

“I’m glad he was the first one you summoned,” says Akira, who has already forgotten what I just said, and gone back to talking with food in his mouth—indicating Billy with his head. “He smiles a lot.”

“He smiles a lot?” I echo.

“Yeah,” agrees Akira, giving me a grin, “You don’t have me there to crack jokes when you need them, so you need somebody else to remind you it could always have been worse, and it’s gonna get better.”

I snort, but then I think about it, and I smile. He’s not totally wrong, and even more than that, it’s reassuring. Twin-morphic-resonance. We were thinking the same thing.

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

“How’re you doing, you sad bastard?” asks Lancer, sidling over to where I’m sitting slumped against a wall near the conference room, holding a bottle.

“I feel like I might do nothing but throw up for the next year,” I reply dryly, annoyed to have to pry my eyes open again at all. It just makes the headache worse.

“Well hey,” he says, sliding down against the wall next to me, and slapping me on the shoulder, “You got the world record now, for longest sustained reality marble. That’s gotta count for something.”

“Great. Put it on my tombstone,” I reply, shutting my eyes again and leaning my head back against the wall.

“Oh, get over yourself. You’re not even injured,” he replies in an annoyingly amicable way.

I sigh. “Why are you over here bothering me. What do you want?”

There’s a clink as he taps something glass—I have to assume the bottle—against the metal guard on the back of my hand.

Annoyed, I crack open an eye and glance over. He’s raising a large bottle of what up close I can tell is definitely alcohol of some kind.

“Come on,” he says, “Gotta push through.”

‘Push through’?! I think, irritated, I just sustained a reality marble for almost three days. I’ll kill you.

“Alcohol isn’t exactly going to make a headache better,” I reply dryly.

He snorts. “Not going to make it worse.”

Yes it will, stupid. “What do you care, anyway. Go bother someone else,” I reply.

He rolls his eyes and removes the glass cork, then takes a swig. He holds the bottle out to me.

I’m annoyed, but I’m too tired to keep arguing, and I want him to go away, so exhausted, I take it, and drink. I'm even more annoyed that it's actually pretty good.

“Not bad, huh?” he says, grinning at me.

Oh go fuck yourself, I think. “How’s the doctor?” I ask instead.

Lancer shrugs. “Seems fine now. Everyone who’s useful at that kind of magecraft is in the command room, trying to figure out how the hell this happened. Everyone else is supposed to rest up.”

Great, is there a bed somewhere then? That actually might help. “Anywhere better for that than here on the floor?” I ask.

When we arrived, after what was more of an awkward than dangerous standoff when the doctor fainted, we were more or less asked to stick around this general area, and it would have been more trouble than it was worth not to comply. Besides which, as tired as I and everyone else are, the civilians who are actual living humans have it worse, and some of them are injured. They were given access to a large conference room and as many pillows and spare blankets as the staff here seemed able to find. Us spirits, and the Fujimaru kids, stuck around near the command room to wait for the doctor to wake up.

“They’re working on it. We brought in almost two-hundred people,” says Lancer, a little more seriously, “And the facility was bombed not long ago, so a lot of their shit is under rubble right now.”

“Bombed?” I ask. News to me. But then, I missed a lot the last few hours. Basically as soon as I could tell there wasn’t going to be a fight, I went to collapse and rest somewhere, with as much dignity as I could, before my core knocked me out completely.

“Yeah. Right—You left,” says Lancer, cocking his head and thinking, “Some guy turned traitor, and took out a lot of the staff a couple days ago—to them, right at the turn of the year. They’ve been scrambling ever since.”

I nod, too tired to ask a lot more right now. “Anything pressing, for us?”

He shakes his head. “Nah. You can pass out.”

On the floor? I’m not sure I’m that desperate. Not with this group of people.

Lancer takes the bottle back and drinks, then passes it back to me. I give in and take another swig. Energy is energy, and it’s not bad. Even if it won’t help the headache. I guess I’m physically past caring about that.

“…It’s weird, isn’t it?”

I glance over at Lancer, waiting for him to elaborate. His tone has changed. It’s light, but there’s an undercurrent of seriousness, study, almost. He’s not really looking at anything I can tell, though, just eyeing the empty hall.

Finally, he turns his face back towards me, and smiles, but I don’t believe the smile. I don’t really think I’m meant to. “It’s familiar.”

Is it?

I’m skeptical, but, as he says it, and I turn my own head to look over the nondescript, white-blue walls, it’s…

“There’s…a cafeteria. That way,” I say, not sure why, pointing to my left. “Two halls down.”

I haven’t walked that way at all.

Lancer nods. “There is.” We meet eyes, and we both understand something I almost wish we didn’t.

“…We’ve been here before,” I say. It’s not a question. “Together.”

He nods, very slowly.

“How did you know?” I ask.

“I…remembered,” says Lancer, thinking, and quieter than usual, “And I didn’t. ‘I’ haven’t been here. I’m sure ‘you’ haven’t either. But some version of us has. Because I remember, a Christmas with you.”

“…And…Robin?” I ask, perturbed by the sudden inkling. It’s not a visual memory. It’s like…information, like the throne fills in when we’re sent to a different area. Or the familiar emotion a smell brings, if you knew it well. “…No. David and Robin, but not you…” I add to myself, under my breath. The hell? Were all of us…?

But then, Da Vinci said that, didn’t she? That she knew all of us aside from Salieri.

“It’s our own future summons,” I suggest, “That we’re remembering.”

“But if it is,” says Lancer skeptically, “That would mean we’re all about to die. Then get re-summoned, and be remembering the re-summoning. We can’t remember the summon we’re on.”

He’s right. “That…seems a little far-fetched. But I don’t know what else it would be,” I say. Maybe I do.

“Parallel timeline?” suggests Lancer.

“Our memories, or, sense of them, is way too keen for that…unless, there’s a reason we’re being allowed this much,” I add, thinking.

He shrugs, seeming to completely relax again suddenly.

“What?” I ask.

He glances at me and smiles. “Ah, nothing. I could tell you remembered stuff too. Figured if we were about to die, we’d both have some kind of bad feeling. Or one of us would, at least. But neither of us does. If we aren’t about to die, the memory stuff is a problem for future us.”

The way you live your life, I think, smiling at the absurdity in spite of myself. He holds out the glass and I take it and drink. “Well, good luck to them then,” I say tiredly.

Lancer grins and holds up the bottle in toast. “To them. Probably gonna fuckin’ need it.”

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

“So, that about bring everyone up to speed?” asks Da Vinci pleasantly.

The Chaldea staff around us trade looks, confused, but glad to have answers, even if they’re answers they don’t understand. The civilians who aren’t resting, and chose to attend, seem to be feeling an even stronger version of the same response. Something like ‘Oh thank God somebody has an idea.’ –I guess I can kind of relate. I flip up the hood of my cloak, and relax a little against the back wall. Even if the situation sucks, it’s reassuring to have some answers. Plus, the doc and his two casters look a lot more relaxed, so, I gotta believe they have a plan forming now, at worst.

In the front, I see Ritsuka’s hand shoot up, and just a half-second later, her brother’s beside her. Da Vinci nods at them both.

“So…” says Ritsuka with great focus, glancing at her brother then Da Vinci, “If our best move is to stabilize things enough we can find Goetia, then what’s our next step to stabilizing?”

“Our next step,” answers Doctor Romani with a tired smile, “Is for you to rest—for everyone, to rest. Those of us who do analysis, we’ll take shifts, so we can keep running tests on the situation. Everyone else, we need to be in tip-top shape.”

One of the kids goes to ask him a question—the brother—Akira? – and Doctor Romani cuts him off with a gentle hand.

“-Akira, Mash, you two just got back from a harrowing experience. Eat, sleep, and then report tomorrow for a physical exam and mental health checkup. Ritsuka, you just helped sustain a reality marble for the better part of three days. After almost dying, and contracting a grail war’s worth of spirits. You do the same. On the subject of spirits, obviously Emiya needs time to recover, but as much as possible, I want everyone else to, too. Rest up, because we need you sharp. We’ve uh—finally—got accommodations and rooms worked out. Sylvia has a print out with room assignments, as well as directions to bathrooms, the cafeteria, and medical quarters.”

“And after we report?” asks Akira.

Doctor Romani sighs. “…We don’t know for sure yet, but, it’s pretty likely we’ll be having to send out small groups to contend with both the targeted singularities, and the new anomalies. We’ll let you know more when we do. But for now, the assignment is rest.”

“Yes sir!” calls out the little purple haired girl—Mash—almost over the end of his sentence. She turns pink and stutters out an apology.

“I can’t believe he wasn’t lying about the daughter thing after all,” mutters Emiya in disbelief nearby.

I try not to laugh.

“And that goes for the Doctor, too! I’m afraid he’ll be out of commission while he sleeps,” says David in a friendly tone with more than a little danger hiding inside it warning against being challenged, “There are other people on standby at the medbay though—don’t worry.”

Doctor Romani sighs again. “Any last questions?”

“I got one, but not for him,” says Billy’s voice in my head, “Robin, uh—everything he said—you got the gist of it, yeah?”

“I did,” I reply, mostly ignoring the end of the briefing in favor of this.

“Well, if some human mages figured out some kind of First Law type magic altered the world state, I can see those greedy bastards runnin’ around breakin’ all kindsa shit tryin’ to get more power—ain’t like mages ever been careful before,” he replies, “But they ain’t the ones who changed it. Too much experimenting. And I believe the Doc didn’t do it. I know the kid didn’t. So who do you think did?”

“Why would I know?” I ask, turning to lean against the wall and trying to find him in the crowd so I can give him a look, “I’m not a Caster, or any kind of magic user, for that matter. If they don’t know, no way I do.”

“Well, sure,” says Billy awkwardly, and I find him in the crowd finally, near the far left side, already watching me. To my surprise, he looks…deeply contemplative. “But you would know who would want us to have a chance to see each other.”

“Come again?” I say, truly taken aback.

“I…thought it over,” says Billy, meeting my gaze, “What got said back in the bar—about how everyone but Kotarou seems to come in a set? Think about it.” He ticks off on his fingers. “You, Me. Emiya, Cu Chulainn. David, the Doctor. Mozart, Salieri. Doesn’t it seem way too random to be random?”

… “I take your meaning…” I offer slowly, “…I do. …But. …No one would. Right?”

Billy nods, looking concerned. “I could only think of Geronimo, for us. But, I don’t think he’s ever even met any of the others. They sure as shit don’t remember him. And I can’t think of anybody else. But it can’t be coincidence, right? Two is coincidence, three is a pattern—that’s the sayin’.”

“Well…whoever did, it seems non-malicious, right?” I say after a few seconds of thought, “Even as much as Emiya and Cu Chulainn bitch at each other, they’re not actually mad to both be here. And it’s a straight-up gift to most of us. I don’t think we need to be worried about it.”

I look across the room at Billy, and the expression on his face says he could not be more sure that I’m wrong.

“I think you want to know a donor, not just a robber,” offers Billy.

And when I consider the re-painting of the whole world going on around us, I realize pretty quick he couldn’t be more right.

“Alright!” comes Da Vinci’s voice, loud through the speaker system, and sharp, snapping me back to attention, “That concludes the briefing! Everyone rest up. We all need it, and it's a big day tomorrow.”

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

It’s quiet in the room. Somehow, it feels almost like being home. I really like it.

I mean, it doesn’t look like home. The walls there are not the off-white of paper walls like I’m used to at home, and there aren’t all the pictures and posters Akira and I hung up on them; it’s kind of sparse in here—just white-blue walls and floor, the Chaldea emblem on the wall, a desk and an empty shelf, and our beds—but, just the same. …It feels like getting in your bed at home does. Dunno why. Maybe because Akira is here, and we’re always okay together.

“Aki,” I say. He’s been quiet, but I know he’s not asleep. He doesn’t like, snore when he sleeps, but he breathes louder, and I know the sound super well. He isn’t doing it right now.

“Suka,” he replies. I can tell he knew I was awake already too.

“…Are you okay?”

I haven’t gotten to ask that before. We always had Mash, or Doctor Romani, or Billy, or somebody else nearby. I mean, I could ask, but he couldn’t have said the truth, if I had, and I couldn’t have either.

“…”

I hear him sit up, so I roll onto my side and look over. Even in the dim light from the hall outside, spilling under the door, I can see him enough to make out his expression, and see he’s looking at me, too.

“…No,” he says simply. He leans against the wall, and tucks his knees up to his chest.

I climb out of my bed, and walk over to his, clambering up beside him. Taking my place next to him, where I always am, I sigh, letting out some real tension finally, and I feel him lean his head on my shoulder.

“How about you?” says Akira.

“I’m not either,” I say quietly, “…But. You know. It doesn’t matter.”

It’s weird. I wish it did, but, I feel selfish, and bad, for wishing it did.

“Yeah,” he says in the same subdued tone as my own.

“…We’re gonna be okay,” I promise, looking over.

He exhales slowly. When he speaks, I can hear an attempt at a smile in his voice. It makes me sad… “Are we?”

I take his hand. He squeezes mine, and we sit in silence for a few minutes, just thinking, and breathing together.

“…You wanna tell me about it?” I ask finally, in the stillness of the room that feels like my bedroom at home somehow, even though it’s on the other side of the world, at the end of it, “About it for real? With all the bad parts, and awful feelings, and stuff you’re afraid to even think? The stuff that wakes you up at night?”

He thinks about that. “Yeah. I would. But you go first.”

“…I got somebody killed. For real, forever. Not because I wasn’t fast enough to help. The heroic spirits helping me killed them, for doing bad stuff. And now they’re just dead.” I think about that for real. About Mr. Toujou. Miss Ayase.

I turn and look at Akira, and see his eyes reflected back in the dim light, like my other half.

“…I feel bad. I didn’t want it. But, what’s worse is…I don’t feel very bad. I know I should feel worse than I do. I know I should feel guiltier, and have tried harder. But, Mr. Toujou threatened to kill you, and Mom, and Dad. He was going to kill me, and make me kill my heroic spirit. They were torturing people. Director Ayase was running that whole place. And I…I saw, what they did to Billy, to Robin, Cu Chulainn, David, god, Salieri. …Kotarou. I just…”

He's still watching, listening. No judgement.

“…I’m scared it’s gonna change me,” I whisper, letting go of his hand to bury my face in my knees. “What if I become bad? What if I care less someday? I don’t want to stop being me, but I feel like I’m already letting myself down.”

“…” Akira watches me a few more seconds, then looks away. “…I saw a bunch of people die,” he whispers, “When that bomb went off, there was fire everywhere. Parts of the ceiling had fallen on them. The walls. Some had even burned alive. The worst part, was that not everybody was dead yet. And…” His eyes tear up. “…Mash was there. A column had crushed her body. Everything in her midsection must have just been pulp, and I couldn’t lift the column, and it wouldn’t have mattered if I could. She was dead, it was just taking a while. And I could hear another bomb ticking down. I was so scared. I wanted so bad, Suk, to live. I wanted to run out that door, and not look back. But god, she was so scared. She was crying, and shaking. I knew the scariest thing on earth, to her, was to die alone. And I knew I wasn’t gonna achieve anything, except a few seconds being less bad, if I stayed to die with her. If I died, you and Mom and Dad would all be so sad, too. It would have been so easy, to leave her. I wanted to leave her.”

I realize he’s crying.

“…But you didn’t,” I say.

“I’m scared it doesn’t matter,” says Akira, “Matter enough? I thought about it. She was so pitiful, and helpless, and I thought about leaving her to die alone, to save myself.”

“But you didn’t,” I say again, putting a hand on his back.

He nods, breathing slowing back down. “I know. …What if I do someday, though?”

Oh. We’re exactly the same, huh.

“…You won’t,” I say after a few seconds. “I know, because I know you better than I know myself. Even if you did, I’d still love you, and I’d forgive you, and you’d still be good, but you won’t. Because you’re glad, right?”

He glances at me.

“You’re glad you stayed. And not just because you got a miracle, and survived. It was scary, when you were deciding, but after, it was easy, right? Like peace.”

“…How did you know?” he asks, shifting to face me more completely.

“I saw how you looked at Mash,” I reply easily, smiling, “You were grateful, right? That you got to save her.”

He nods. “I was really glad.”

“Then don’t worry. You aren’t how you feel, you’re how you choose to be. And you’d always save her. I bet you know that already, deep down. It’s just really scary, the first time you have to act the way you always thought you would,” I say.

“You realize you’re not holding yourself to the same standard, right?” replies Akira with a tired smile, plopping a hand on my head, “You’re worried you’re bad because you aren’t feeling guilty enough.”

“-W—no—and I didn’t try hard enough!” I argue.

“Didn’t you?” he says, unimpressed.

Did I? I’m not sure anymore. I’m so jumbled up, it’s hard to tell.

“You know how when we were kids, you always really liked the character who was the hero’s friend, who got trapped sort of turning to the dark side—not because they were bad, but because sometimes someone had to do something a little bad, so the hero didn’t have to?” asks Akira, “They were such a good friend, they’d even lose themselves, so the hero didn’t have to?”

“Is that what I’m turning into?” I ask nervously.

He grins and shakes his head, like I’m being stupid. “No. But you should love yourself at least as much as that, if you ever started to. Those people who died, it was to protect your friends right? And you feel guilty you didn’t try harder to keep them alive, even though probably there was no way to do it at all?”

But…what if there was? And I’m just not good enough to find it…

I nod, and look at the sheets.

“So if you even did anything wrong, which I think you didn’t, even a little, you only did it to protect somebody you love,” says Akira, like it’s so easy, “You put them before an ideal that was gonna hurt them. That’s not bad. That’s love. You’ve always been good, and you always will be Ritsuka. And if you ever have to do things you wish you didn’t, I already know the only reason you’re gonna do them is so someone like me doesn’t have to. I hope you never, ever have to do that again. But if you do, thank you.”

He reaches over, and he pulls me into a hug.

It’s a little unexpected, since we were talking, but, I think I needed it. I feel the urge to cry build up in my throat, and lean in against him, wrapping my arms around his back.

“I know you want to save everybody, and have everybody be good, and never hurt anyone at all,” whispers Akira, “You want to love everybody, and see it all turns out alright. So thank you, for taking a bullet for everybody else. I know it hurt. And I know it hurts to ever act how you don’t want to be. But thank you, and I love you for it. Thank you for loving me enough to do the hard thing yourself.”

“Do I have to do it?” I whisper, voice shaky, trying not to cry. I can’t, so I stop talking, and lean my head into his shoulder, doing it silently.

“No,” says Akira, “You never have to. I hope next time, I’m the one who does.”

I don’t want that at all. I’d much rather it be me.

Oh.

There’s something in that thought that gets through the way the rest of what he’s been saying hasn’t quite been able to. Maybe…maybe not every part of it isn’t bad, about me, even if most of it was. Maybe there’s a little piece of love in there too, after all.

“Let’s hope neither of us has to ever again. I want to grow up a little slower,” says Akira.

“Me too. But so long as I get to do it with you, I think we’ll both be okay,” I whisper back.

And it helps.

In the way my twin has only ever been able to help me.

Akira and I talk, for several hours, when we should be sleeping, but, I think we both need this a lot more. I talk about helplessness and weakness and my inability, and the weight of quick choices, and my fears. He talks about failing to save somebody, and needing to never do it again, and how lonely it feels to survive.

But, it’s not all bad.

I already knew it wasn’t, for me, but somehow when I say the good and all the bad together to Akira, I really hear how much is good in a different way—even with the parts that are bad; like, how I was so scared Toujou would kill him and Mom and Dad, and how Emiya said he wouldn’t blame me if I made him die there to save them, and how he thanked me after. How he promised he’d keep them safe from Ur Shanabi, and did it too. How Salieri makes me so sad and worried, and said he’s not like a real person, but I gave him food, and talked to him the same, and I didn’t think it would matter, but I saw him smile at the shop. How Doctor Roman bought the goofiest swimsuits in the gift shop, to try and help me relax, and wore it all through an operation. How I was a little worried about tying my pool of energy to somebody I didn’t really know, but he keeps coming to check on me and make sure I’m okay, and he hasn’t betrayed me or hurt me once. I keep gambling, and winning—I said that to Akira. He said, ‘No. You keep putting faith in people, and they keep proving you right.’

I’m not sure if it’s different. But, I like the way he says it.

It’s been scary. I watched the world wipe away, like a bomb was taking out the whole planet. But, we saved people—people that weren’t alive in the version of the world Akira knew about, here in Chaldea. Maybe it’s only ninety-six people who wouldn’t have made it, but that’s so much more than zero. I’m really proud of it. Even in the horror, we’ve done little things okay.

It's the same for Akira. He doesn’t tell me until the next morning, when we’re getting ready for the day, but, he feels awful for what happened to Olga Marie, but he says he also saw her change—grow—that, in the short time they worked together, she got less mean, and less hard, and he was proud. She said she didn’t want to die, because she hadn’t proven herself yet, but he said, ‘I wish it felt like it might have mattered to her that she did, to me, in Fuyuki…’ I said, ‘I think it would.’ He smiled. And he talked about Mash, who’s shy, and awkward, but she’s brave, too. He said she’s gone from being barely able to say no to a request, to risking her life to protect him—and she’s not just braver, she seems happier. Not that all this bad stuff happened, but she’s really…alive. He says Doctor Roman told him that talking with Akira after the mission was the happiest he’s ever seen her. It would be great, if nobody had died, and she still got to feel that way, but the fact it happened a bad way, doesn’t make the goof part not good.

I can tell he’s different, too. Akira’s impulsive, like me; Mom and Dad call us ‘the tornado twins,’ because we ran around causing messes on accident so much when we were little. I know he hasn’t changed much, but, I can see him thinking hard now, and I know he’s thinking about how to make everybody happy and safe. I wish he hadn’t had to grow up a little so fast. I wish it hadn’t happened at all. But, for parts of him to grow into early, I’m really happy he picked such a nice one.

We talk for several hours, quiet, like we used to when Mom and Dad had said it was bed time and we better not, and we’d whisper to each other through the wall of our rooms anyway and be bad, because we were too excited about a trip the next day. I know they were right, and so is the Doctor now, but I think this time we were too, because at the end of it all, I climb back in my bed, and I hear Akira whisper, “Hey, Suka? I really love you, you know?” and I whisper back, “I love you even more,” and we go back and forth trying to one-up the other for a minute, and then call it a tie, and the room gets quiet, and I really rest for the first time since this all started, since the day I got Billy out, like I’ve learned how to sleep again by talking with my brother.

Maybe I have. Maybe if he can be proud for me, and I can be sure for him, we can both really be…okay.

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

Timeline: Two Months, Sixteen Days, Two Hours Forward. Coordinates: -4.R48X91, -R1.559X46 Graph: 10912.1326

The jungle is dark and full of shadows, but it is not quiet.

That is a good sign. There is nothing more fearful, in a jungle, than the absence of noise. Can you even imagine the terrors it would take to scare every type of beast living in one, into silent submission or flight?

So, it is a clearly good sign.

What is clearly not a good sign, is the man-made structure up ahead.

Kuhaha, I mutter as a scoff in my throat. Irritating, being dropped here for this. Not that I’d prefer a master; I wouldn’t. But I’d prefer some damn idea of what I’m being flung here to do.

It isn’t like planning or persistence are issues for me, which is probably why the Counter Force chose me, but it’s not my job, and I don’t love being spat out by it. I shouldn’t be here at all. And if I’m in the prison tower after this again, I’ll hunt her and that demon down myself.

Still. I let myself melt into the shadows and fade in and out, towards the building. It’s an ugly thing, built at odd angles and jutting out, like boxes of different sizes stacked haphazardly about. I have become curious, so, I may as well indulge. Despite my distaste for the system, it does tend to throw heroic spirits at the more disgusting humans in this miserable world, and I have a taste for blood.

There is movement behind me.

How. The HELL, did I not notice the-?!

Cursing, I swing around, and am uppercut in the face by a massive blunt object the size of a bed.

Shit, I think it is a bed, I register as I fly backwards, breaking through two trees before catching onto a third one with a clawed hand and swinging around it with my momentum, landing back on my feet with an aching jaw.

Fast—hell—too fast! I feel almost no spike in magical energy, but the red figure who attacked is a blur, tearing at me at a sickening speed. Tch-!

I leap up, and call black flames to my hands, raining them down on the thing, but it dodges and weaves, and I see it raise a gun, so I mentally calculate the time it takes for a bullet to be fired and aim taken, and dodge, leaping from the tree I’m clinging to, smack into the path of the gun, because it THROWS it at me! Not shoots! No! It throws the whole gun at me!

It doesn’t even hurt that much, but it catches me by surprise, and expecting that, the red figure takes that fraction of an opening, leaps, and kicks me out of mid-air, through another three trees. I hear trunks snap and thud around me, and curse as I dig my claws into the ground to bring myself to a stop. It’s going to draw guards, like this.This thing is probably their perimeter security. I need to retreat, if I want to at least avoid being identified.

I sink into the shadows, and begin to melt from one to another, and the stupid thing appears from among the trees at a full-tilt run again, going right for me—I swear! The damn thing locks eyes! It’s a human, too—a heroic spirit, it must be, and it’s running at me like a football player going for a tackle.

FINE! If that’s how you want it!

I dash forward myself, and having run away before, I catch her by surprise, ducking under her arm and slicing her through the gut with a black-fame’d claw.

She cries out, more in surprise than anger or pain, and whips around to follow me like she hasn’t even noticed.

Tch. It didn’t go as deep as I meant.

The woman twisted on impact, like even too late to dodge, she somehow knows the best place in her gut to take the hit. This is a pain. I’m not really hurt yet, but neither is she. I need to make this really fast, or whatever is in that building that the Counter Force found important enough to throw me at, is going to come out here, and I’m not a man who likes to rush in blind. I should take this more seriously.

Annoyed, I catch another tree and swing myself around it again, sliding past her as she barrels after me, and slicing into her leg.

Almost too easy. She caught me by surprise, but she’s not as fast as me, just odd.

Moving faster, I tear off into the cover of shadows again, her, single-minded as a bull, plowing after me through the underbrush, then I turn and leap to a tree, propel myself off the side to another, and then from it, dive down at her, tearing a gash across her chest as I go past.

Breathing hard, she hesitates, turning to see where I went, and I use the opening to dash in and swing at her back with a claw, and my fingers sink in and find flesh, just as I feel a vice-like hand clamp down on my neck, raise me up, and slam me hard into the ground

JESUS! How strong-?!

It actually stuns me. Just a split second, but she slams me down so hard that the ground dents around me, and I’m at least two feet down, in a crater, throat burning.

“Hold still,” she says like a mildly-irritated reprimand, and that tips me off like nothing else has. She’s not even mildly threatened.

Shit-

“I don’t need mercy!” I shout, raising a hand towards her face, and managing to dig my fingers into the side of it, drawing blood, but her eyes are fixed on me like steel, and she’s already calling hers out, too:

“I will purge all that is toxic, all that is harmful.”

“I follow a path that is beyond love and hate!” I spit, digging my claws deeper and feeling my mana surge around me.

“For as long as I have this power-“

“Enter Chateau D’If!”

I do it—I’m faster.

Around me, I feel my body speed up, my mind sharpen, until the pace is so frantic, time may as well stop around me. Wrenching myself from her grasp, I rip a claw up and through her torso, scouring her body with black flames, curses of death. I move at the same time left, right, behind her, above, tearing her back, her legs, her arms, her face; I am everywhere, I am fire itself, I am death and hate in that moment, I am the concept of inescapable suffering and the unconquerable march of the reaper. In an instant, I attack from every conceivable angle, and cover her body in the flames of the cursed poison inside me, then skid to a stop on her left as the phantasm breaks and ends around me, the world catching back up.

You’re finished, I think, relieved, and surprised to be threatened enough to be relieved, No one can survive those flames.

And no living witness to a phantasm, no identity given away.

Her uniform, as I’m only now recognizing it to be, hanging in tatters around her, blood seeping from her chest over breasts and down her torso, past the hole through her stomach, and along shredded leg muscles, she blinks in surprise at where I was, then turns to see me where I am now, as if she can still sense it. Her face is not twisted in pain or anger. Her eyes are red, like mine, and burn, like mine, but burn a different color. Blood seeps down her forehead, and it’s like she doesn’t feel it, the way I don’t. And she looks at me, but not the way I am looking at her. She reaches out a hand, but not the way I reached out mine, and she calls:

“I shall lead everyone to happiness!”

She’s still using it, I realize, taken aback. She has to know using that much energy would kill her instantly, with my flames consuming her body at speed already. She’s going to take me out with-?

“Nightingale Pledge!”

A waterfall of white flames erupts around her and the black flames of my phantasm that are burning out her life, and behind her, a massive figure the size of a building appears—like her—I think it is her, but made of white flame as well, and with a sword, and she raises a hand and the sword comes down with a ferocity and speed—I try to move, and find I can’t, and it hits me.

And passes through.

I breathe raggedly, reaching a hand to my chest, and I find myself undamaged, only—Wait. My flames have gone out?

They always glow around me and my claws, but-

Shit!

I look back at her and see they’ve vanished around her as well, and as she stands there, unmoving, the slashes across her face heal, and the hole in her stomach closes, and-

Mer…

I see her. I see me, in the Chateau D’If, and—?

“Mercedes?” I ask, taken aback, and I forget for just an instant, to move.

She is on me like an attack dog, her force and size knocking me to the ground again, and I see an outstretched hand holding a pad with what can only be chloroform on it from the smell—Stupid! Poison won’t even work on me! I just used my own-

My back hits the ground and the pad rams into my face, and WHY THE FUCK IS IT WORKING?!?

What the HELL is going on with her?! WHY-?

Damn it! Her phantasm! That’s right—some part of me remembers; it blocks the effects of other—

“Mercedes!” I try, voice muffled by the pad, “Get off of me!”

I could stab her until she lets go, but now that I remember who she is, I suddenly don’t want to; I also suddenly remember she’d probably die before thinking to move, the insane nurse! Instead, I try to just grab and pull her off, but it’s like wrestling a goddamn rhino.

What kind of insane strength do you HAVE, woman?!?

“Please sit patiently. You are in need of treatment,” she states calmly, pinning me down without mercy, and not budging an inch.

“I do not need treatment!” comes my muffled voice as I thrash around under her, trying not to breathe, “I’m fine! Get off! We’re on the same side!”

“I’m sorry, but you are clearly disoriented and unwell. You may be suffering an injury to the head,” she says with sympathy, “I am not Mercedes.”

YOU BITCH! Do you remember me too, and you still-?!

Shit, it’s getting hard. We don’t exactly do body functions the way humans do, but it doesn’t matter, because her chloroform is seeping in not exactly the way it’s supposed to either. Holding my breath seems to slow it down, but I think it’s sinking into my skin anyway. Also, it’s also agonizing, which it shouldn’t be, because I don’t actually have human lungs! I should be able to hold out until it starts damaging my prana cycle, and instead she’s…fucking somehow forcing my body to think it’s functioning like it’s flesh and blood! “You remember me?” I manage.

She tilts her head and blinks at me, considering my face, staring deeply.

“…No,” she decides.

LIAR!

“Listen to me!” I choke out, “I don’t want to kill you, but if you don’t get off me, I’ll rip you to shreds! We both need to get out of here, before the people in that building get here to check out the massive disturbance you caused!”

She turns her head to look, then looks back at me.

“Oh.” Her eyes widen. “I do know you.”

Finally! Thank-

I relax for just an instant, and she dumps a whole bottle of chloroform onto my head, then slams me in the gut so I involuntarily take a breath, before I can even process what just happened.

Shit…

“I’m sorry,” she says, sounding genuinely sorry, “You were agitated and needed to be sedated. I decided the best way for you not to hurt me like you want, is for you to go to sleep.”

“You bitch…” I wheeze weakly, forgetting not to take a breath, with my head suddenly so hazy. This is so stupid. I’ve made so many mistakes in a row, and it’s just because I remember her! This is why it’s a mistake to ever let anyone get close to you—only someone you trust can ever stab you in the back! Why did I do this?! I’m so frustrated I almost do hope she just bashes my head into a puddle now. Maybe I’d finally learn that lesson.

“That’s extremely inappropriate language,” she reprimands harshly, as if she’s disappointed in me now, too. Gripping the lapels of my coat firmly, she jerks me up, and hoists me over a shoulder in a fireman carry.

…this sucks.

“Just…kill me,” I hiss out unhappily. Damn it. My head is starting to feel numb.

“I told you—I am not going to kill you,” she replies, “You need treatment.”

Great.

I feel a gloved hand pat my head. “That’s good. Please remain calm. Your anger was consuming you so much you could not listen to reason, but do not worry; I will find a way to cure you even if I have to kill you.”

“…please don’t,” say dryly, giving up and hanging limp over a shoulder.

“I am Florence Nightingale,” she says, ignoring me.

No shit. “I know…who you are,” I manage between labored breaths.

She glances at me and tilts her head again, curious this time. “Then why did you call me-?”

I pretend to pass out, because I don’t want to answer, and I’m exhausted now anyway.

“Hmmm. Poor man,” she says with a sad sigh, and forges on.

Angel of Crimea, more like Angel of Brute Force Sanity, I think, but I’m not as annoyed as I could be. I’m not as sick as I’m acting, either. The effects of her drugs will knock me out if I’m not careful, but they only worked full force when she was smashing me in the face with them, and with her noble phantasm wearing off now too, I could choose to activate my poison resistance and shake off the effects. The thing is, though, I actually don’t really mind letting her have her fun, and just going along with whatever it is she’s planning. I could fight back now, or break free, and run away, but I don’t really have a reason to. I mean, she’s not going to kill me, no matter what she said; she just isn’t like that—and it isn’t like Alaya gave me instructions, so if it can’t be bothered to lift a finger, why should I run around slaving for some malicious god? Besides, as much of a pain as that crazy nurse can be, she can also be fun, and the fact she’s here at all is interesting.

The fact both of us are?

Maybe there is a reason, I think, contented, and I begin to plot.

#The Kid (fic)#the kid #fate go fic #fate grand order fic #fgo fic #fgo au

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 2 years

Text

To Soothe the Savage Beast

Pairing: Dean x Y/N

Warnings/Explicit 18+: None. All fluff and some kissing.

Word Count: 704

A/N: Approppos of nothing, here is a grumpy!dean drabble. I was seeing lots of grumpy!dean on my dash, and I wanted to kiss his grumpiness better, so this came into my head!! Hope it makes you smile! I've barely edited it, so it might be crap. Sorry! 😁

The beautiful dividers both below and at the bottom were created by @talesmaniac89

"God damn! Son of a bitch!"

Y/N heard Dean's resounding yell echo through the bunker, urging her to seek him out and try to fix things for him.

She knew he was in a rotten mood.

He'd woken up in a rotten mood and continued in that same rotten mood all morning and now into the afternoon.

The boys had come home the day before, having finally finished their latest, very long, drawn-out hunt. They'd take out the wraith that had been victimizing a retirement community but not without major issues.

One elderly man had been killed before the boys got onto the case, but thankfully no one else had been lost. But they'd been met with problems at every turn during the hunt - law enforcement getting after them, no one in the community willing to talk about what they were seeing.

But probably most frustrating of all, the wraith had stolen Baby in an attempted get away and ended up smashing her into a street light.

Dean had woken up this morning with one driving mission - fix his Baby.

But from what Y/N had seen of him so far that day - just angrily stalking back and forth from the bunker to the garage, muttering curses and grumpily turning down her offer to make him lunch - the car repair was NOT going well.

She wandered into the garage just as Dean swore again and kicked his big, heavy tool box that was sitting beside Baby's left front tire.

Then he swore louder because of his throbbing toes.

Y/N walked up behind him. "Hey, sweetie, what's wrong?"

Dean swiveled to face her, his beautiful face just a thundercloud of anger and frustration.

"Everything!" He shouted. "Fucking everything is wrong!"

He crossed his arms over his chest, and an actual growl came up from deep in his throat.

"God damn wraith threw out the alignment completely when he smashed it into that pole! And I'm trying to fix it, but Baby is just fighting me every step of the way!"

He scowled angrily down at his beloved Impala, letting her know he was less than impressed.

"And then Sam -"

Before he could explain what Sam had done to piss him off, Y/N reached up on tiptoes to plant a hard, but short, kiss on his downturned mouth.

When she pulled away, Dean was quiet for a moment from the surprise interruption. But he was soon continuing on.

"No, Y/N listen, Sam left over an hour ago to pick up the right size wrenches I need because, despite the fact that I know I always put them back, every time, somehow whatever size wrench I need is always the one that I'm missing. But it's ridiculous cause the hardware store is barely twenty minutes away, but Sam is-"

He was cut off again by Y/N; this time she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him longer. As soon as she let go though, the scowl was back and he took a deep breath to continue his tirade.

So finally she pulled his mouth down to hers and reached deep inside, sucking on his tongue, and slanting her mouth over his again and again until finally she could feel the tension in his body ease. Then she pulled back and smiled happily up at him.

"What ARE you doing?" Dean asked his voice laced with desire and a bit of confusion now, instead of anger.

Y/N placed one more tiny, swift, kiss on his lips. "Making you feel better. Is it working?"

Dean thought for a minute and then put on a faux scowl. But his eyes were teasing as he shook his head.

"Nope. Still grumpy. Better try again."

She grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the Impala.

"Well, how about we give Baby some time to think about her attitude, and give Sam time to find his way back from being lost in the hardware store. Our bed is all made, and just waiting for us to mess it up again."

Dean nodded and followed along docilely, a small smile replacing the angry little dimples on his face.

Y/N knew just how to make his day better.

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays.

@lyarr24

@siospins2

@impalaslytherin

@akshi8278

@maggiegirl17

@candy-coated-misery0731

@nt-multi-fandom

@slytherinlyn314

@globetrotter28

@jensensgirl

@perpetualabsurdity

@tristanrosspada-ackles

@djs8891

@muhahaha303

@kayyay1219

@emily-winchester

@recoveringpastaaddict

2 - Dean Winchester Fics Only.

@saikosheadcanons

@lgranger67

@carryonwaywardgirl

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.)

@sunshineandwings86

@kazsrm67

@sexyvixen7

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well)

@unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men

@awkward-and-indecisive

@maliburenee

@supernatural4life2022

@spn730015

@b3autyfuldisast3r

@kickingitwithkirk

@waywardbaby

@foxyjwls007

@deanwanddamons

@deandreamernp

@deanwithscissors

@myloversgone

@snowlovespie

@leigh70

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@fangirlxwritesx67

@charred-angelwings

@hopefuldreamers-world

@mysherlock221b

@jensensgotyoudean

@stixnstripesworld

@thoughts-and-funnies

@magssteenkamp

@norman1967

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@b-i-t-c-h-i-e

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#dean winchester #dean x y/n #dean x reader #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester drabble

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zeawesomebirdie · 7 months

Note

hi !!!! did NOT consider you might like to have the ask again to answer it. if you do:

seeing you post about your old west au is motivating me to at least draft my stuff out for my fic, too!!! so, firstly: good god thank you. secondly, what kind of drafting process do you normally go through? you don't have to answer this but everyone i know is pretty particular about how they write so i'm always curious!!!

Gosh okay I'm still so embarrassed about accidentally posting this before it was ready!! Lesson learned: only work on long posts on desktop (very affectionate). I'm going to copy paste what I had originally said, but there will be added stuff because it wasn't anywhere near ready to go (if you thought it was long before, honey you ain't seen nothing yet!)

Also I still am so proud of you for working on your fic, we are writing buddies now hand in lovable hand I love you thank you for enabling my rambling <33

Buckle in, here we go!

SO! My drafting process is always a moving target. I do what works best for the work in question, and things change depending on my energy and fatigue levels plus my motivation and interest levels

So that said, right now my process usually looks like:

ramble at someone in DMs, copy and paste rambles into a google doc for safekeeping and marinating

zero draft, aka word vomit until a plot forms, block out actions and the occasional dialog, determine chapter and story arcs

first draft, aka Where The Real Writing Happens

optional second draft, but only if the fic is under 10k

line edits

post :)

find a bunch of typos that I somehow missed during line editing, fix those before anyone notices

I will be showing examples because this is a bit hard to explain and Extremely Intense to a lot of people, and yeah that's because it is! I approach writing fanfic the same way I approach writing original fiction, and I find it works best for me as a plotter

If you are metaphorically inclined and familiar with oil painting: I write the way an oil painter paints. First I block in the big shapes, the gestures, and the colours. Then I come back in subsequent drafts and increase the detail until I'm done!

Further information and actual examples of my drafts will be below the cut, because this is gonna be super long and I love talking shop ^.^

And general content warning for non-graphic violence and graphic smut (and shitty early drafts); the examples are from Bruce Wayne/Dick Grayson fics

So before we get into the zero draft, I want to point out two things: first, I do full rewrites. This is why writing takes me one million years. I retype each and every word in each and every draft. Second, I'm actually trying something new with the Old West!AU, for reasons I will explain in a moment!

I started doing full rewrites in 2019 after a college writing course, in which we read Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott; she encourages the reader to embrace the shitty first draft. I ended up really benefiting from a zero draft too, something I first learned about in 2020 from someone on authortube who I no longer remember the name of. The zero draft is essentially a pre-draft, in which one gets the gist of the story out of their system before the prose clogs up the spigot

For me, zero drafts are something that need to be finished as fast as possible in order to get done at all, so due to the sheer length of the Old West!AU, I'm trying out writing little bullet points instead of my full zero drafting. Right now this fic is at 27 chapters, and this is part 1 of 3 total. I will be going back and filling in the actual blocking once I have all the scenes roughly accounted for

Context for the Old West!AU: Bruce is the Bat, a vigilante gunman who only kills when he needs to but still has the fastest draw on this side of the Mississippi. Now that he's taken care of the man who killed his parents, he's returned home to his Uncle Alfred and gone straight, meaning that he's hung up his guns and gone back to homesteading the family land. He adopts Dick and then a year later Jason as well, when small burglaries start happening in town, so he takes the Bat out of retirement and goes to investigate.

My bullet points started out like this:

Open on comparison between Bruce's first gun and the Bat's guns. Introduce Joe Chill, general drunkard. The Bat calls out Chill, shootout, Chill is killed. Chill drew first. Moment of reflection between Bruce's first gunfight at 15 to this one, at 21. Bruce goes home.

And that's the whole entire first chapter!

However, now they look more like:

The Sheriff runs up and shoots at him. The Bat has him disarmed with his own gun barrel to his throat in an instant. It doesn't take the Bat much time to get info out of him either. The burglar is only going after small change, not enough to be noticeable. That rules out the gambler, easily. The Sheriff can't do shit about it, because no one is willing to start an investigation for such small change. The Bat shoves the Sheriff to his knees and is gone before he notices. Alfred is waiting for him when he gets home, and asks. Bruce tries to deny it, but the clothes are in his hands and he can't. So he sighs and says he may have made a promise, but… there might be more to this than there seems, okay? He just… has a bad feeling about it. Alfred can't accept this, what about his sons? Bruce can't take this, and tells him he doesn't have to. Their yelling wakes up Dick and Jason, who stand in the doorway to their bedroom and look on with the door mostly closed.

Eventually both Alfred and Bruce yell each other out, and they sit down for coffee as dawn breaks. Bruce breaks the silence first, saying Alfred is right. Alfred tells him he understands. Bruce decides to let the Bat go for real now.

This is about half of the chapter, and closer to the blocking I normally do in zero drafts

So far this pre-zero draft seems to be working, given I've already finished part 1, but I also can't wait to come back and do the blocking in because that's when the fic really starts to take shape!

Usually though, I just start with a zero draft. I'm going to show you two different fics for the zero draft examples, because they were done differently, and like I said at the beginning, I try to adjust my process based on what is called for by what I'm writing

This first is from the fic I'm writing for @ful-crum. It's a 5+1, in which it is five times Dick fucks Bruce to distract him from discussing his emotions plus one time they actually discuss their emotions and then fuck about it.

Tim and Jason turn up an hour later, and they're incredibly concerned. Dick waves them off. Tim takes him at his word and heads to bed (he has a meeting with Wayne Tech at 8am tomorrow, ugh), but Jason sits down next to the bed and asks Dick what he thinks Bruce is going to say. Dick tells him he's not sure, I mean, it's B, y'know? Jason just nods, and they lapse into silence. Then Steph and Cass come in, and Bruce is most noticeably not present. Cass signs something about bed, and Steph tells Dick that she's worried about Bruce, to which Jason snorts and says they all are, but she insists that Dick talk to him. Dick doesn't even need to take more than a moment to decide that won't be happening. But Steph goes to bed, and it's nearly 04:00 when Jason heads up too, saying he'd love to help Dick lecture Bruce about staying out late but he's got stuff to do tomorrow. Dick asks if he wants to know what stuff, and Jason gives him a smirk and says ask him no questions and he'll tell him no lies. Dick can live with that.

As you can see, this is just general staging directions and vibes

This second example was supposed to be for BruDick Week 2024, but I accidentally got carried away and ended up deciding to write a longfic for it instead. The prompt was "brudick meet their AU!selves," so I did 66!brudick meets the Gotham Rogues Polycule, an AU in which Bruce, Dick, and Clark are in a very elaborate polycule with half of Gotham's villains.

Batman and Robin were on a normal mission in the middle of the day, on the trail of Catwoman, who's been stealing from the Gotham Museum of Art again. One moment they were walking into the museum, the next they were in a weird swirl of energy. Robin clings to Batman and asks what's going on, and Batman tells him steady Robin, we just have to stay calm and see what happens. The energy clears as someone calls out “incoming! Clear the floor!” and they find themselves in what is clearly the Cave, except it's even more high tech than anything they've ever seen. There's three people in suits like theirs standing in front of a massive screen, and Robin identifies the Riddler immediately, even if he doesn't recognise the other two. Before Batman can stop him, he charges the Riddler, who jumps behind the man in black and blue with a laugh. Batman does call out for him to stop, but he ignores him. The man in black and blue meets his every move, almost like he's fighting himself, and he calls out to the man in red and blue “a little help here, Supes?”

The biggest difference here is how drastically these fics changed from their zero draft to the first draft rendition, and that is entirely because of how fleshed out they ended up being (or not being, lol)

When I zero drafted the 5+1, it was with the intention of that specific part simply being a chapter, whereas my original zero draft of the 66! meeting the polycule! fic was actually intended to be a two shot at most. I unfortunately lost control of the plot during the first draft of that one, and it spiraled into a longfic, which will become more clear in a bit!

Basically though, the goal of the zero draft is to know who's where and why at all times! With longfics, there is often a restructuring that happens after the zero draft is written, where I move scenes and sometimes whole chapters to their best locations. This is where I make the most use out of a beta! Pacing is a big struggle for me and it is easier to fix at this stage, before I have all the prose and have become attached to what I've written

Next up is the first draft, and this is a whole new document. This is where I write The Actual Words. This is more or less the final version of the fic, for longfics, give or take a few paragraphs and a shit ton of line edits. Having said that though, I write in fits and bursts, because y'know disabled and stuff. So I write a paragraph or two at a time, and I am constantly adding and subtracting words and lines and sometimes whole paragraphs while I am actively working on a chapter

I'm going to show the first draft versions of both of the above fics, and due to the length these will be extremely excerpted but they should serve as examples regardless. Generally speaking, my zero drafts are about 1/3 of the length of my finished fics, however the 5+1 is currently proving to be an exception so that number may not be super accurate

First, the 5+1:

“You did take care of them, right?” Dick asked, groaning when Jason’s mouth thinned as he looked away. “Is Steph at least still with him?” “Last I heard, they were—” Jason started, cutting himself off when the Cave’s alarm signaled the arrival of newcomers. A moment later, two muddy bikes roared into the garage, leaving dark tracks behind them as they parked haphazardly together on the far side of the garage. With the return of Black Bat and Spoiler, the only empty place on the garage floor now belonged to Batman himself. Dick tried to catch Jason’s eyes as they waited in the med bay for Cass and Steph to strip off their suits and join them, but Jason turned away from him, though he didn’t rise from the bed. Something must have gone down after he’d fallen unconscious, Dick was sure of it. Why else would Bruce have sent everyone else home early on a patrol night? He could already see it in his mind’s eye, Batman doing God-knew-what out in Gotham alone, Bruce coming home with a busted lip that Dick would have to personally clean up before they went to bed, how that lip would scab over and feel under his tongue when he kissed Bruce the next morning after waking up in their bed—Bruce’s bed—on accident. How that scab would stretch when the ghost of a smile caught Bruce by surprise after one of Dick’s terrible puns. “You okay?” Steph called across the Cave as she and Cass walked toward the med bay. “Never been better,” Dick replied, trying not to be put out at Jason’s eye roll. He put up a hand for Cass to inspect when she came up to his bedside, and after she had nodded her satisfaction of his health he smiled. “I’ll be right as rain in no time.”

And the 66! meets polycule! fic:

“You!” Robin shouted, not waiting for Batman to back him up as he charged toward the Riddler. Riddler didn't move—in fact, none of the three moved—then Robin was on him, punching his face hard enough to hear a distinct crack. That startled all three into action, Riddler swearing up a storm before throwing himself behind the blue masked man, who blocked Robin's next hits without hesitation. “Robin!” Batman called from somewhere behind him, but Robin ignored him, focusing his energy on striking past the masked man's defenses to get at Riddler. “I know you're behind this, you– you scum!” Robin snarled in Riddler's direction, placing a perfectly timed jab toward the masked man's left cheek and then feinting to the right. But the man met him easily, as though they were merely sparring. “I'm not who you think I am!” Riddler exclaimed, his hands cupping his face but doing little to staunch the blood streaming from his nose. “Let's slow down for a minute, okay?” the masked man said, his voice maddeningly level as if Robin wasn't trying every trick he knew to get past him. “We can explain.” “Yeah kid, there's a good explanation here, we promise,” Riddler added. Robin growled and spun around the masked man's reach only to find him once again directly blocking him from Riddler. How in the dickens did he know exactly where Robin was going to strike before Robin himself knew? And why on earth was he protecting the Riddler? “Supes, we could use a hand here,” the masked man said, still obnoxiously calm, once again blocking Robin's fist and this time circling his hand around Robin's wrist to twist his arm behind his back. In a blink, Robin was lifted into the air by his collar, the blue and red suited man holding him at arm's length. Robin continued to struggle for a moment, but finally Batman came into view, frowning up at him. Seeing Batman's disapproval took every bit of wind from Robin's sails, and he deflated instantly. If Batman didn't think he needed to fight, then he probably didn't need to.

So as you can see, I just kinda fill in the details with each draft!

Which is where we come to the optional second draft. I try, I really do try, to do a full second draft of everything I write. I always am glad to have done one, once it's done. The problem is, I really do have very limited energy, and anything longer than a chapter or two just doesn't get finished if I try to give it a full second draft. I've instead been doing really vigorous line edits, which I don't have an examples of because those are done in the same document as the first draft!

Now, you're probably wondering why on earth I gave a smut content warning at the beginning of this post. WELL.

I am calling myself out as a newbie when it comes to the art of smut writing. My 5+1 fic, the one where literally every single part has extremely explicit smut, has the following in the zero draft:

Yes, that is not one, not two, but three "cue smuts." Clearly I was new at this (affectionate)

Shout out to past!me for this in the last part though, because at least it actually has some semblance of blocking even if it is still extremely lacking:

The kissing escalates (as it often does) to smut over the desk (though Dick does try to move the documents out of the way, even if Bruce is growling at him to leave it alone; he doesn't want to be the reason Tim has another caffeine-induced breakdown).

I didn't figure this out until I was actually writing this fic, but it turns out I not only need to block in regular action scenes, I also need to block in the smut, because otherwise I will be sitting there having no fucking clue what to write (very affectionate)

So I now present what a zero draft of smut looks like! This is from a 5+1 in which there are five times Bruce and Dick fuck because of Poison Ivy's sex pollen and it "doesn't mean anything," plus one time they fuck because they actually want to:

Dick asks if they can take off their suits, it's too hot he's too hot, and Bruce says okay, that's a good idea, and internally he's panicking because oh no. Oh no. But the moment the words are out he sees the relief in Dick's face, and realises Dick needs to be told what to do right now, so he tells him clearly to strip, it'll help. Once Dick is fully naked in the other seat, he turns to Bruce and asks if he needs help with his armor. His hand is tentatively, almost shyly stroking his cock, and Bruce is really struggling to not watch. He tells him no, he doesn't, and takes off the chest plate and arm armor, but leaves what's left of his leg armor on. He decides he can safely put his hand under his boxers, but Dick makes a little noise, and when he looks over he can clearly see Dick watching him stroke himself. Oh fuck. He's cumming before he even realises it, his boxers getting wet and sticky and his cock still so maddeningly hard and he strokes himself through it, unable to stop himself from moaning even as he tries to keep himself in a clinical mindset. Dick asks to see him, and Bruce, despite knowing what a bad, horrible idea this is, pulls down his boxers to reveal his cock. Dick shifts his hand on his own cock to mimic what Bruce is doing, and Bruce has the horrible realisation that he doesn't even really know how to jerk himself off. Dear God, hopefully Alfred stays the fuck out of the Cave tonight.

So it's really just more of the same general blocking directions and vibes!

Another thing of note for zero drafts, I try to use as few words as possible to get what I need across. These are only ever intended to be seen by myself and a beta, assuming anyone else besides me even sees them at all, so I use slang and shorthand and leave notes for myself in the text itself

This can be a bit weird for when I show it to betas (or anyone else, for that matter!) because there are some fics where the tone or the vocabulary in the zero is incredibly modern despite the fic being in a historical or pre-modern setting!

And I have yet to actually write the first draft of that one, so I'm going to give you the first draft of the "Cue more smut (but this time against the batmobile 😌)" scene so that you can see the difference between the blocking and an Actual Scene:

Bruce had turned his back to him, bracing himself against the batmobile, and Dick took hold of Bruce's hip to hold him steady when he slid a finger into his hole. A soft moan was all he got in verbal response, but Bruce pushed against Dick's finger despite Dick's best efforts to do this slowly. Chuckling under his breath, Dick slid in a second finger, relishing in the clench of Bruce's muscle as he began working him open. “Easy, B,” he said softly, leaning over him enough to move his hand from Bruce's hip to his cock. Bruce growled and arched into his touch, taking in Dick's fingers completely. “Someone's in a rush tonight, huh?” He didn't get a verbal response, not that he ever did. Bruce rarely spoke while full, relying instead on nonverbal communication to indicate his needs. It hadn't taken long for Dick to become acquainted with his movements back when they started this; after all, fucking was no different from fighting, not for them, not when they had flown side by side across Gotham for more than half of Dick's life. And Dick knew Bruce would always try to get him to rush just a little, knew he'd give in like he always did, wanting to have his cock inside Bruce as soon as physically possible just as much as Bruce did. He wasted no more time, sliding his fingers out and releasing Bruce's cock just long enough to slick up his own. The small whine from Bruce at the loss of contact ought to be ignored, ought not be acknowledged, and Dick knew that, but he couldn't resist leaning over to kiss the small of Bruce's back. Bruce huffed at him, glaring over his shoulder. Dick met his eyes with a grin. Then Dick gripped Bruce's hip again, holding him steady while Bruce leaned back to meet him, and slipped into his tight heat. There was a soft moan from Bruce the moment he bottomed out; Dick leaned forward again to kiss up his spine, keeping his cock buried deep even while Bruce began to rock back into him.

I do think the fic for @ful-crum would be easier if I had proper blocking for the smut, but also I do love a good challenge and you live and you learn, so I'm not super invested in going back and blocking in the smut at this point in time!

And honestly, once the line edits are done that's pretty much it!

I keep a little "posting info" doc for each and every fic I write, to which I add tags as I come to them in writing, so that I don't have to think about what needs to be tagged at the end after I've already forgotten what I've written. That has saved my butt so many times ngl, especially for longfics!

But really what keeps me from posting more often, despite how much I write, is that I fully finish fics before I post them, even if I'm posting them on a weekly or whatever basis. This is mostly because I can't guarantee when I'll need to randomly take several months off of writing, and I don't want to leave anything unfinished, but also because I don't want to actually end up leaving something unfinished for a few years until I cycle back into the fandom

And that's it!! Thanks for tuning in to this little master class :) If I can clarify anything please let me know; I tried to explain everything that I thought needed it but I can never tell what others will need more clarification on!!

And also, thanks again for asking this!! I don't know many people who do full drafts, or even many people who don't completely pants everything they write, and so I'm always excited to discuss my process!! I also am a firm believer in "take what helps and leave the rest," so if you find something in my process that sounds like something you'd like to do, give it a whirl!! I think it's super important to share the different kinds of processes there can be for writing, because everyone really writes so differently, you know?

Anyway, thanks for stopping by and I hope you enjoyed my shitty early drafts (very affectionate)!!

#asks #idk what to tag this so that ill be able to find it again lmao #also shout out to whomever told you to resend it bc i was fully prepared to just have a screenshot of the ask and tag you in a post #this was very fun!!!#oh and this is for you and anyone else who sees this:#feel free to pop in my ask box and ask about what i'm working on at any time!!#i could ramble for hours about my wips #and to be able to talk about them is always a pleasure!!!

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popculturebuffet · 10 months

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Transformers More Than Meets The Eye Retrospective Season 1 Finale: Remain in Light (Patreon Review for Brotoman.exe)

Hello all you happy Autobots. It's been over a year, two spotlight issues, a two issue prequel, an annual and as of this review, 22 issues but we've done it we've reached the end of more than meets the eye season 1.

It's been a long project but one of my faviorites, one I always wanted to do but simply didn't have the time on my own and was more than happy when Brotoman commissioned these. I owe him a world of gratitude for his support and patience. Without him I woudln't of been able to talk about gay disfunctional robots every month and for that, i'm eternally grateful. This is one of my faviorite comics and re-reading it slowly and intently has only solidified that.

So a few things before we dive into this wonderful story: The first is something I forgot to mention last time that brotoman pointed out, something important I missed in my tired daze: How big a moment Rewind saying "I Love You" To chromedome is.

See before this, the series was coy about the two: It made it damn obvious the two were a couple.. but also used terms like them being "friends" and no one using words like couple, common law husbands or pound pals. The two were just a duo at first and if you were a mite thick headed like yours truly, who at the time I first read the comic didn't look for gay subtext like a bloodhound after a cheeseburger, you'd miss it. It was still obvious, the way they act around each other, their history, the way they fight.. the two are ENTIRELY an old married couple and act it and anyone looking closely could see that. But Roberts knew that those three little words were, to quote an interview with Sequart Orignization, a step up.

All that said, the Chromedome/Rewind relationship stepped up a gear – and moved fully into the open – with issue #16, when Rewind tells Chromedome (not for the first time, but it’s the first time we’ve seen it on the page) that he loves him. I was conscious that this was really nailing certain colors to the mast, and I was ready to make a case for those three words to stay in the script. But both John and Michael Kelly at Hasbro were incredibly supportive and encouraging, and the declaration of love survived the editing process. The reaction to the first Transformers gay couple was amazing – overwhelmingly positive. To be honest, I thought most people would be pretty cool with it, because most people are sensible and decent, but it was still encouraging to see. Hooray for Transformers fans."

I"m happy to hear that the reception was entirely positive and that Hasbro was supportive. I'm sure there are still a few idiots who were again it here and there, but like those who actively deny huntlow happened.. their a few idiots who can't accept objective reality and there's only one way to deal with them

Moving on to Remain in Light itself, We need to talk about the big shockwave shaped elephant in the room. Dark Cybertron is intended to be the finale for both this and Robots in Disguises' first season, a big epic crossover to shake up both series status quos and onboard us into season 2.

In practice.. it's the big showy finale to Robots in Disguise with the MTMTE cast guest starring. It's still VITAL to MTMTE, I would've simply recapped it like I intend to recap RID if that weren't the case: Nautica and Nightbeat are introduced, joining the crew in season 2, Megatron has his heel realization that leads to him also joining the crew, Cybertron finds out Prowl didn't kill MOST of the lost lighters (RIP Rewind I), and Chromedome powerbombs the motherfucker off a cliff.

I'll unpack this scene more when we properly get to it but I cannot see Prowl get powerbombed off a cliff while he's somehow SHOCKED this happened despite begging for it. It's Dellliccciooousss.

The fact is while a crossover was inevitable the death fakeout meant both books were completely isolated from each other, and thus their plots.. really don't intersect much. Prowl's actions have consequences and his baiting Chromdome leads to bad shit over in RID, but for the most part the two books are their own stories and their own spheres and by the time they intersect it works well enough... but it's clear they just work better on their own. It's likely why the third addition to this line, Windblade (both volumes) was made to stand on it's own while having an easier time intersecting back with Cybertron as our heroes are one teleport away versus the lost light being deep in space and in it's own character stuff. Windblade, btw is fucking great and I intend to cover it at some point, just not as part of this retrospective. It's it's own beautiful thing.

So while Lost Light was going to get into the Dark Cybertron hype, it needed to cap off it's own story first as it would've been a bit much to try and cram two series with a wide buffet of ongoing plots and plans together. So we get Remain in LIght where a LOT of character arcs are paid off, a few questions are answered, and a few things are set up for both next season and the eventual finale of the series. As usual it's remarkable how much Roberts set up, but here's where it gets to payoff more: last arc paid off the overlord conspiracy and rewind and chromedome's relationship, this one pays off magnus' breakdown, the circle of light and even where we found skids and just what was chasing him. It's a true epic and I can't wait to share it with you under the cut.

Part 1 picks up exactly where we left off: Tailgate is running to tell Cyclonus some "stupid news" while Rodimus, Blaster and Ambulon look over the security footage since Ratchet was busy telling Tailgate he gonna die. And to remind us Ambulon exists before the carnage to come.

For now Blaster's friend Mainframe is able to track the shuttle, so Rodimus is rounding up a crew to go find Magnus, with a determination we've scarely seen and a grimness we really haven't.

Meanwhile it turns out Tailgate's sickness... is cybercois, a condition that slowly kills the trnasformer, taking away their movement , speech and eventually memory.. and given memories of this place are all Tailgate really has he didn't take it well. Cyclonus urges tailgate to face his death with dignity and head on, agreeing to keep it secret and leaving... to mutilate his own face with a large scrap, enraged the one person he has on this ship is about to die and he can't just cut his diseas in half.

Hot Rod leads the crew to a big hole, making it very clear that he dosen't care what they ahve to say their going in... and for once his impusilvness pays off as what he finds is Luna 1, cybertron's missing moon which was mentioned before and I honestly forgot was the setting for this arc but it's a brilliant payoff and a way to have Rodimus have acomplished something big: he found one of the lost moons. Even if the quest has gone nowhere, this is still pretty damn big and he has perceptor confirm it. What's more curious, even if Perciptor dosen't buy it? Luna has a BILLION PEOPLE on board.

So Rodimus assembles his crack team.. and this is the first time we really see what we'll call Team Rodimus come together: While Rodimus has interacted with all these guys before, this is where it becomes clear how much he cares about them as more than just his crew:

First recurit is Rung whose surpised after Rodimus' outburst last time they talked. Naturally that's exactlyw hy: Rodimus flipped out largely because it was something he didn't want to hear... and with magnus gone he NEEDS that opposing opinon.

The rest of the team includes Brainstorm, whose happy to go and is already packed (holds up suitcase), Ratchet as the Medic, Perceptor as the more stable science guy to Brainstorm's mad scientest, and Whirl... who Rodimus flat out admits he just needs to throw a punch. Also going along is Chromedome, who Skids begs to help him: Since LUna 1 is allegedly's a giant treasure trove, Skids wants something to repair his memory. Swerve also wants to go but is harshly turned down by rodimus due to limited capacity, while Cyclonus agrees to go and take Drift's place as spirtual advisor, since he's the most religious person on the ship left, which he agrees to if Tailgate can come.

What I really get from this is while Rodimus is asking most on qulaifications, only being really straight with Rung.. like I said this shows who he really cares about: his team has to be small and he's a dick to swerve.. but it's likely more he knows Swerve might be in danger here and if there were room, skids and swerve would be along. These are who he can count on, who he's leaned on, who he needs without his two main supports on the ship. And this team will only grow as time goes on.

For now Team Rodimus heads to the planet, with Tailgate hoping to find a cure and Cyclonus.. thinking hope is a lie and telling him to never hope. And also he killed his puppy. He made him a puppy and then he stabbed it. A bunch. And then he showed tailgate the pictures.

Anyway our heroes land on the seemingly barren moon only to find...

IT's a hell of a reveal, and one that will be vastly important down the line... it won't really have any consequences for NOW but just remember this in a few years when we get to the final arc. For now jus tnejoy the sense of wonder on everyone's face: even Ratchet, the crankiest of crank and Tailgate who

We then find out what constructed cold means as Tailgate asks... granted I think I covered this definition back in chapter 1, but as a reminder; cold construction is making a cybertronian via "Spark splicing" using a bit of someone elses to craft a new one. This was in part due to demmand: Cybertron couldn't expand out into the cosmos if it didn't have enough people. Problem is as we've seen like any society Cybertron is quick to prejudice, and thus once Nova Prime who invented the process left, many a city started trying to "prove" constructed cold bots were inferior, something Chromedome is still bitter about and rightfully so.

It's about then things go to hell: On the ship commuincation is suddenly blocked between the bridge crew and away team, and Skids hears some clanking. on Luna 1, our heroes are soon swarmed by decepticons as Lockdown arrives

Okay probably not the right reaction but for those curious who this guy is, Lockdown was one of the handful of original characters from Transformers Animated, my faviorite transformers show and the one that reignited my spark for this fandom. And then this comic did it again, it's a bit cyclical. Point is even if I badly need a refresher on that series, Lockdown was their kraven the hunter, a bounty hunter who hunted down autobots for the decepticons, mostly working for them out of necisity and largely being his own man, so he fits for being a gun for hire for someone else. He sadly dosen't get as much to do here, at least in this season I can't remember if he shows up again, but it's just nice to see something from Animated imported as later installments tend to either make new transformers or stick with the core ones.

On the ship.. things are worse... Skids is confronted by those mysterious robots, who i'll just go ahead and call by their proper names: Legislators... only this time their giant sized and emerging out of the oil pool. What's worse is they soon creep up on EVERY deck of the ship, all shouting the same thing: 1984. Oh and in case you thought things couldn't get any worse as Team Rodimus flees... Ratchet is shot down and isolated....

We pick up from the siege in issue 2: the ship's overrun, our heroes are outgunned and only Swerve is able to land a solid hit as only one came to Swerves

... admitely I just wanted to show off the my first blaster. (Clears throat)

SAY YOU, LITTLE AUTOBOT. YOU WANT TO SHOOT THINGS WITH ALL THE BIG KIDS BUT YOU CAN'T FIRE THEIR BIG OLD GUNS FOR BIG OLD BOTS WITH YOUR WIDDLE BITTY BABY HANDS? TRY MY FIRST BLASTER! MY FIRST BLASTER IS A GUN DEISGNED FOR LITTLE FELLAS LIKE YOU. jUST POINT SHOOT AND MY FIRST BLASTER WILL TELL YOU IF YOU DID AND SUPPORT YOU IF YOUR NOT. MY FIRST BLASTER, FROM BRAINSTORM INC A DIVISON OF BRAINSTORM IS SMARTER THAN YOU LLC.

WARNING: NOT SELLABLE ANYWHERE EXCEPT THE LOST LIGHT. DO NOT GIVE TO BOTS UNDER 1. DO NOT USE WHILE DRUNK UNLESS IT'D BE REALLY FUNNY. COPYRIGHT VIOLATERS WILL BE HUNTED DOWN AND DIPPED IN ACID.

Meanwhile Skids continues his fight and easily wins using his super learning, able to predict his new foes attack easily and counter it.. the problem is while it's a great skill when your fighting a few of Legislators.. it's not so great when your fighting NINE of them and they'll likely keep coming.

So back on Luna 1.. it isn't much better. Whirl and Cyclonus get seperated from the group, and Rodimus, while finding out Ratchet got taken down from tailgate.. simply can't go back for him.

Rodimus then procedes to do some dope as hell sacrlige as he plunges into a titans corpse to give him more room to evade their captors. Sadly while his moves are dope as fuck and Lockdown is sure to give them the slow clap they deserve.. he's already gotten everyone else. After taking a second to tell pharma everyone else hates him, a worthy use of his time. What a legend.

So our heroes end up in a jail cell where, for the past two issues, Rodimus has been recapping these events to Minimus, his cellmate.. who looks an awful lot like someone a certain dead bot was looking for.. hmmm. Questions for later.

For now Rodimus admits they weren't just dumped in a cell first, as Rodimus correctly figures Lockdowns taking them to his boss: a long lost moon as a base, teleport tech.. all of this screams big bad.. and Lockdown is at the end of the day a guy just doing his job. Pharma mentioning a collective "lord and master earlier" already told us this, but it's a nice character bit, shows that beneath his reckleness Rodimus is far smarter than he appears and far more capable than most give him credit for. He's an idiot, sure, but he's one with great skill and intiution.

And sure enough there is a big bad behind all this.. and of all people it's..

I was as shocked as rodimus but it's a clever rug pull: We've seen Chief Tyrest brought up a lot, his accords are what Ultra Magnus is duly appointed enforcer of and back in Last Stand of the Wreckers, he's the one who oversaw the Aquetius trials. So seeing him show up is a suprise... but seeing him be BEHIND all this is a nice swerve. He also makes a perfect contrast to our crew: the embodiment of order and rigidity veruss our far looser, far more human crew. Metaphorically I mean thir still giant robots.

Tyrest is being an obstinante dick, proving he really is Magnus' boss, charging our heroes with crimes against creation. We find out our ambus ISN'T dominus, but his brother minimus, an allged energon trader who hasn't tried to escape because he's waiting for his day in court, a BIGGGGG honking neon sign of a clue at who this guy is. But more on that later, for now Tailgate has a bit of a breakdown, with no one knowing why since he didn't tell anyone present he's dying and could be trapped here for what days remain.

Meanwhile Ratchet.. is not doing any better, with Pharma torturning him, showing off his new shapeshifting hands which can become TWO chainsaws. That double groovey. He's no less stable than last time, but now he dosen't need to PRETEND to be and is honestly an even better villian on return: he has a joker style quality to him as he fiddles with his double groovy hands and plays with ratchet making him ask what's in THE BOX

Turns out 9 robots vs skids does just mean send more legislators and we get a nice speech from the guy, with him pointing out how the Lost Light took him in, cared for him and welcomed him no questions asked.. and

Unfortunately while Skid is totally badass.. he's also wiped.. and thus dosen't see this coming

We'll get into who this fine bastard is later, for now he knocks out Swerve too.

Back in Prison, Tailgate asks about tyrest, noting Nova Prime had a chief science offer of the same name.. the same guy. We get Tyrest's backstory: He was a nobody until the war when, with Dai Atlas' help , they helped 10,000 neutrals off world. Tyrest returned to TRY and broker peace, simply two city states, one for each side, but naturally since one of those sides was Megatron that never went anywhere. It instead lead to the Tyrest Accords, a series of rules of engagment the biggest being not exporting cybertronian weaponry. It's thanks to him the universe isn't a smoldering crater and thanks to Optimus he's chief justice.

As for what he's doing here... no one has a clue. He was last seen during the Aquetius trials, which Rodimus helpfully recaps: trials using a judging machine that 100% predicts guilt, and hasn't been seen since the trials. They also pass around energon sticks, something equivlent to either gum or cigarettes or autobot slim jims

Rung offers Minimus to snap into one.. then delberately spills it and spills it more, causing him to HAVE to get them off the ground and organized... and proving what Rung's figured all along:

Yup, while Ultra Magnus was indeed Ultra Magnus... he was also Minimus Ambus. It's complicated and naturally Hot Rod's a bit confused, so Magnus backs it up slightly: he war bought into luna one and reparied... then smacked in the face by tyrest.

Tyrest decides just bitchslapping Magnus PHYSICALLY isn't enougH: having read his logs and found his actions disgraceful, both the micromanagment and the various fraternizations, he disables the armor and left ambus as he was.

As for why Magnus was a fancy suit of armor, turns out Ultra Magnus is a legacy of brave autobots, all one percenters.. but smaller rewind sized ones, Loadbearers. So while their not super tanks from the start.. it means they can be heavily modified and thus wear the Magnus Armor. The Magnus Armor was forged after the original Magnus, a real brave bot, died: Tyrest saw what fear and awe he imposed and realized he could exploit that and thus created an "immortal lawman". If this is sounding very sinestro to you and making you nervous, that's the idea. As for why small transformers it's simply that most cybertronians can't get fancy armored add ons" too much and they freeze up. A loadbearer has plenty.

So our magnus, Minimus was the latest.. and seemingly last. He also has ten days left.. but it turns out Pharma wasn't lying: Tyrests doctors can work miracle.

Back in the flashback, we get a recontexulization of Magnus character from Tyrest, who isn't exactly reliable , hence why I didn't think too heaviyl about his words before.. but in hindsight.. they make perfect sense and the interview I mentioned backs it up: Magnus.. had a nervous breakdown.

For most of the lost lighters the war ending is a fresh start: the war is over.. but for the bulk of them the war wasn't something they fit into. They were fighting because they had no real choice or had been for too long. And in the case of some like Chromedome the war simply took one terrible thing they were forced into and swapped it for another. The war ending means a chance ot start over and do anything else.

Magnus... fit perfectly. He was a stickler for order, a natural talented combatant, and while he was the latest to wear this armor, he more than earned it. The war was chaotic and horrible, but it also had rules, a clear bad guy (even if this book shows there's still plenty shades of grey in the autobots), and a clear end goal. Life.. dosen't have those. LIfe is just doing your best and hoping today is good. It's not perfect, it's often messy, but it's just how it is. Magnus didn't really have to worry about small talk or what he does with the rest of his life.

It also explains why he took the lost light: it was seemingly close to what he'd been doing: going through space, righting wrongs, etc, all. Cybertron would've had more order.. but it was also filled with thousands of bots who resented him for everything he'd had to do over the war, and a new world he understood even less. It was the lesser of two evils, so he overcompesated by becoming anal retintive in the extreme. He's a soldier who simply couldn't cope with the war being over, a tale sadly as old as the nasty institution itself and didn't get himself the help he needed.

Magnus replacement.. was Star Saber, that guy we saw make Skids into a kebab. Magnus was mostly talking to them though.. because he was curious. He asked to be put in there as.. nothing is adding up: the decepticons, the titan, and now this "crimes against creation" charge that wasn't in the laws before. magnus, still being a tad naive even after all of this, goes to talk to tyrest.

While he does, WHirl and Cyclonus have escaped having killed a bunch of decipticons themselves and after their done getting to the numbers, see a cell block above... identified as such because it's directly over a giant smelting pool, as whirl puts it "a prison you can dunk" Whirl of all people is the logical one here: They need a ton of weapons to go rescue the others, and he can sniff an armory. Somehow. Honestly I'd question it but if anyone could find weapons through sheer force of will it's whirl.

Back with the head tha twouldn't die, Ratchet assumes this is about revenge.. and it is, Pharma wanted to hunt ratchet down, but his main goal

Thing is Pharma's a mite bit paranoid and hasn't removed them because their hard locked, and he assumes rigged to explode. Ratchet uses this to his advantage: he calls Pharma a coward, stating that he really didn't do it because he's scared he can't and essentially challenges him to a surgery duel: first to fix it win. Honestly Chicago Med and Grey's Anatomy could use WAY more of those. I'd watch every episode twice if it was a death sport race to see who can surgery faster. Get it on it Dick Wolf and Shondra Rhymes!

So back with the bicker twins, Cyclonus and Whirl argue, with Cyclonus pointing out byu this point.. Whirl could've had his own hands back and his face if he wanted, with Whirl genuinely worried if he stops being angry, he wouldn't be him anymore. Cyclonus gets stabbed from behind for our THIRD stabbing this story and our FOURTH in the last few issues, but it's not fatal, Whirl saves him.. and our dynamic duo find the prisoners: not our heroes, who are as it turns out somewhere else.. but the circle of light. It's why they have so many swords avaliable.

Back with Ratchet he made a bit of a tactical error.. while his gambit was clever.. he forgot that Pharma is basically the joker now and thus had ambulon and first aid brought here as swerve and skids were to Team Rodimus cell: their going to be the guinea pigs and despite ratchet's begging, he can't get the contest called off. This is happening. And unfortunately for ambulon instead of across the waist... Pharma decides to go lengthwise.

Semantics point is ambulon is super fucking dead and purple chainsaw blood is all over. It's a brutal, horrifying death.. and tha'ts really the only reason it works. That Pharma set up this horrifying death game, when he could've just done minor surgery and used one of the Legislators, since they aren't really sapient at this point anyway. Otherwise.. Ambulon is a guy we barely knew who disappeared entirely: Pipes was also mostly absent till his death.. but Pipes felt like an actual character and had enough characteirzation up to his death. Ambulon.. feels like he was kept on just for this chainsaw death since First Aid had more to give. It's not a bad death, I mean... look at that gore, but it's not as weighty especially coming after two big tearjerking ones.

Back at the cells, Swerve fills the rest of the crew in: the legislators have locked down the place, and he tells them about Star Saber, who it turns out in this unvierse is a notorious evangelical nutball who tried to do atheist genocide. So you know the MOST stable person to give a big sword. Star Saber being made into a villian.. was a bit contervseral according to tv tropes. Saber Originally was the optimus prime equilvent for one of the G1 animes, Transformers Victory, having a neat design and big old sword. So making him into a sociopathic religious nut wasn't the best for some. Me I think it's fine: the series already has plenty of heroic autobots and it helps reinforce the idea that being on the autobots .. dosen't make you a good person. Same with Tyrest.

He shows up to drop off a new prisoner.. and it makes Chromedome have a relization: when Skids memory was begging for estape it was asking for getaway... the autobot whose now being loaded into their cells.

Minimus goes to confront Tyrest who couldn't give a shit what Magnus thinks.. but is willing to explain what his grand evil plan is and why he's doing all this supervillian nonsense: guilt. Turns out Tyrest is one of the archetechts of Cold Construction, and instead of using sparks.. it used the matrix. This is a brilliant move and explains why, with cold construction only stopping fo ra bit because it was assumed the matrix was dry when really someone stole it assuming this was blasphemous.

And sadly. Tyrest has started to agree. The Aquetius trials drove him around the bend, with all the guilt and horrible actions of the autobots on trial getting to him.. to the point he started to drill into himself, hence the holes.. including one in his own head. Huh Egon WAS right it would've worked.. as Tyrest saw something beckoning him and thus the space bridge is a portal to cyberutopia itself. But being ... unhinged to say the least, Tyrest has decided he has to atone first... since all the criminals on trial were constructed cold, he assumes their an abomination and plans to use a literal killswitch to kill every last one tommorow. And beofre Minimus can stop this.. he has a legislator squish the poor guy's head.

Onto Part 4. After a reminder of the various gushers of blood abound, we cut to a fight with Whirl, Cyclonus and the Circle of Light. Turns out the circle had been cut down a bit, but is still a massive army, allowing for an epic battle while everything elses going on and the revelation that will come in hand in a bit that Cyclonus, being a true believer, can power their faithswords, which use energy from a spark to do something something something religion. Look I'm being as through as I can, but this is a MASSIVE story arc.

In the Cell Getaway TRIES to have a reunion with Skids, while also introducing his catchphrase bomp.. basically a sort of fistbump he used to annoy skids. At any rate Skids can't remember anything but Getaway can and fills the rest of the cast in on Tyrest's madness, which is a term I try to be careful with as someone with a mental illness myself.. but really appleis to a man whose drilled a thousand holes into himself and is trying to do holy genocide right about now. When Rodimus mentions Ambus not being back yet... Getaway drops the bomb on him baby, he drops the bomb on him... that Ambus LURED them here.

Back with Team Holy Genocide, Tyrest explains how the hell he knows this switch will work to someone who was there for it: He kidnapped Pharma because Pharma is apparently famous for being Forged, so he could prove it wouldn't kill Forged transformers. THe attack on the circle of light? A whole cities worth of test subjects, taking ten thousand down to one thousnad. Speaking of which given the Circle is a mite testy about the genocide, Tyrest decides to handle the situation by.. letting the equally religious genocidal monster he keeps on payroll handle it.

Skids has a bit of a breakdown over his missing memories so not wanting to see his best friend break down further, Swerve asks Gateway to fill him in on what he's missing. Skids and Brainwave were partners in the Dipolmatic Corps... which was really Autobot Special Ops. What good would being spies be if they broadcasted that fact? They had a similar job as the wreckers, impossible missions and such, but while the Wreckers were more Impossible MIssions Force, going in somewhat subtle and always ending loud and dangling themselves off cliffs, the ASO were more the stale beer type of spy: get in, do the mission, maybe surivive.

Their mission this time was to put a mind bullet in Tyrest's head.. not kill him, to Skids relief, as the binary gun, that gun Skids couldn't find when he was introduced, wasn't designed to kill, simply implant a thought, and a very simple one at that: Resign. As for why, while Skids boss didn't know the fulls cope of what tyrest is doing he got the feeling something bad was going down given he was chasing down titans and talking to the decpticons. Sadly .. Skids missed, Tyrest set his horeds on them and while Skids escaped, he followed one last protocol: after all the binary gun had two bullets... and the other was used on him to erase the mission

To no one's suprise, Prowl's the spymaster here and to even less shockity shock, him prodding the already deranged man with a god complex led him to speed up his plans. The good news of all this though is Getaway.. can get the mout. He's an escapeologist, a master escape artist, macguver as a transformer and the only reason he hasn't busted out? He didn't have a fresh set of keys.

While Getaway plans his way out, so does Ratchet, who has an argument iwth first aid: First Aid makes the valid point that Ratchet has a savior complex; he hasn't really retired.. because he dosen't think anyone else can do the job as well as him. Turns out this isn't it: Ratchet didn't let first aid help.. because Ambulon was long dead by chainsaw to the face, and he simply was stalling to weaponize his corpse, a nice little callback to drift doing the same. The two argue over what to do with Pharma, Ratchet not wanting to sink to his level and First Aid wisely feeling Pharma will just come back to haunt them again, if probably not the one to do it since i'ts clearly out of anger his friend we saw maybe once just got chainsawed in half by the guy.

The argument is interupted by Team Rodimus. Turns out the keys... were all the stuff on everyone and using Brainstorms breifcase straps (he had it on him as it's designed that only those who KNOW it's there see it) and Chromedome's fingers to create a dart gun, knock out the guard then have everyone use the sticks on the bars at the same time. THeir out, and Tailgate is hopeful he can find a cure. And what I like, and forgot to mention is HOW Luna 1's a treasure chest: it's not because it was lost. Luna 1.. is just luna 2 with a diffrent name. But since Tyrest took up refrence he also took every bit of treasure the magnuses had built up with him and thus he really CAN work medical miracles. It's juts without Pharma.. they might not be able to.

For now it's time to light up the stage cause it's time for a showdown. With team two guys , a religoius leader an an army it's not great as the legislators won't stop and there's a LOT of them, and Star Saber makes it worse. While Dai Atlas does his best against his polar oppiste.. Saber snidely tells him "Primus hates you and stabs the life out of him"

Team Rodimus don't have it much better.. they arrive, point a gattling gun at Tyrests face.. and tyrest simply activates his staff and the bodies hit the floor. It's a subsonic suggestion they can't move, so powerful they don't even belivie it when he tells them and with that.. he pulls the switch. Brainstorm and Chromedome start to fade.. and they aren't alone...

It's a brutal sequence ending with the scavengers... and with that tyrest has almost won, and all he has to do.. is step into the light of his portal as it activates.

So as the final chapter opens, Tyrest is about to get his big prize when...

It's a clever save: Tailgate's condition had been front and center for most of this arc, Ratchet outlined loss of functions.. it's poetry. I also love him jamming his finger in the head hole, it's a detail I did'nt notice till writing this but I love it.

WIth that the rest of the crew can rally.. but Tyrest uses tailgate as a human shield with Tailgate revelaing his condition so Rodimus can shoot.. but Rodimus has grown from the incident with fort max and can't bring himself too... thankfully..

Before we can process "how the hell is magnus still alive", we cut to the battle outside and we get an awesome fight with Cyclonus and Starsaber, with Cyclonus stabbing the fucker in the eye.. before he gets teleported away. Where? Well.. that's al ong ways off from being answered, but for now he's away from gutting people range so that's good at least. Back with Team Rodimus, Rodders asks what we're all thinking "What the hell". Turns out in a clever, if still somewhat labored twist... Minimus didn't tell them HOW many loads he was carring. This is as far down as he goes, but it still makes a lot of sense. Tyrest not KNOWING this dosen't, but we can handwave it as Tyrest assuming he got the heads and just.. not carring enough about magnus to double check the corpse, a mistage that made him into one.

Our heroes need to scramble to find someway to shut off the killswitch though as Tyrest was still sane enough to not put a shutoff on it. Before they can deal with that properlyt hough, Pharma heads into the portal with First Aid giving chase.. and Pharma saying far more than he needs to, chuckling and grinning about all the autbots at delphi and bursting into laughter about his lengthwise joke... and soon bursting from the head as first aid shoots him.. and then collapses, not able to deal with taking a life for the first time

It's a powerful moment. Pharma absoltuely deserved to get his head burst... but it's still a life and it dosen't, as first aid clearly hope, make the pain of everyone he's lost go away.

So while this goes on Perciptor has a hail mary: he hooks rodimus up to it, which MIGHT hurt him and will defintely destroy their matrix piece, using it to undo the code. While Rodimus makes a "there goes our map" quip.. it's very clear he has no intention of backing out: personal glory isn't worth the deaths of everyone.

So with Death on the way he decides to clear the air with Magnus, ask if he really betrayed them. Turns out.. yeah he entirely lured them out here, having become disturbed with Rodimus' increasing irresponsiblity. It wasn't a full trap as he had no idea Tyrest was so far gone, he just wanted him to give Rodders a lecture, snap him out of it, tha tsort of thing not you know, nearly kill them all and then try to commit genocide as an encore. It speaks to who Magnus is: he's orderly.. but he's not the zealot his former boss is. He just wants to do the right thing.

And so does rodimus..w hich leads to one hell of a confession

It's a powerful moment an da wakeup call for rodimus: while he's still carefree after this... it's him realizing he's been way too caviler.. and let his own ego and pride get people killed. And he needs to , instead of hiding from it like he did, face the conseqeucnes of his actions. It's also a nice moment in that instead of seeing his sacrifice as a way out or a glorious way to redeem himself as he might have before the incident... instead Rodimus just hopes he lives long enough to begin the real work.

As he writhes in pain, Tyrest.. turns out not to be dead and says one word: one... which sends all the legislators their way.

In the meantime Skids ends up on Cyberutopia.. yeah... in a big reveal it, or some form of it exists and skids ended up there due to taking the portal: it was blocking anyone who had guilt in them, and Skids.. finally felt free enough to try it.

What he saw there will be important later but for now the plan worked: everyone is saved and Whirl celebrates, deciding to put the past behind him and cyclonus... and after a quick murder fantasy Cyclonus agrees. He has somewhere more important to be.

Back in the control room the legislators swarm and Skids shows up to help.. while something takes Ambulon's corpse through the portal. No time to dwell on that setup now as the legislators need to be stopped..a nd it's tailgate who once again saves the day in a brilliant way too. Remember how Magnus had him memorize the law and just about everything including the dimensions of the kitchen sink? Well when finding out the law computer is right there, this allows tailgate to easily write a new one REPEALLING them all. the legislators freeze, our heroes win the day, and Tyrest vanishes. And sadly while Tailgate won the day.. he passes out.

Thankfully we have a solution: on his deathbed we get a very poginant line from Tailgate, the little bot who simply wanted to be special and important...

It's a small line.. but one that sums up the comic> life isn't about being a big hero or saving the unvierse, though our heroes certainly did that.. it's abotu living it. It can be hard, messy and often rediculous.. but it's more than worth it.. and with that Cyclonus gives Tailgate the gift of life.. by stabbing him in the chest

And for once.. IT IS HEALTHY as it was a way to do a spark transfusion, one Whirl of all people brought up. It was risky.. but it was worth it.

So as Rodimus decides to bounce, deciding this big discovery wasn't really wroth it with one crew member dead, first aid traumitzied and brainstorm in his lab, unknown to all having taken the super spark, and the rest of the sparks having gone quiet after the matrix became dust.. he's lost.

Magnus however.. is found. He may not know what his future is.. but he's finally at some sort of peace.. and has a ncie gentle talk with cyclonus

Remain in Light was one of my faviorite arcs of lost light.. and re-reading it only clinched that view: it's a tense epic that's fast paced but manages to cover a LOT of ground without anything feeling underserved, and the result is stunning. It's a worthy end to season 1.

And it WOULD be where we leave off.. but before dark cybertron we have one issue left, issue 22.

Little Victories is a nice Coda to the season, an issue I skimmed over the first time I read the comic due to the art... not being great. Artist James Raiz takes over from here through dark cybertron and his art style isn't bad, being kind of sketchy and gritty. Not my cup of tea but not bad art. The problem.. is that the art style dosen't fit lost light at all. I mean look at this panel with cyclonus

It's a good joke, but it looks just so dead serous and grungy. It just dosen't fit what's entirely a slice of life issue, showing a recuritment film Rewind made before his untimely passing.

That said giving the issue a second chance or two i've come around... once your ready for the jarring art shift, you can enjoy the story with plenty of fun documentary gags including Magnus having part of the film removed and getting editiing rights, as well as having Swerves swears censored.

There's two plots here: The first involves everyone being curious what Rungs alt mode is, with Swerve having a bet as to who can get him to show it first, leading to a really great, really stupid joke

I love this comic for it's deep characters, engaging plot and world building.. but I also love that a large part of the comic is just roberts letting these robots act like jackasses. It makes them so damn relatable. I mean someone had to try this.

The other is Thunderclash, what a guy. Thunderclash is a legendary hero and the king of the parody sues, a guy so noble and kind that even optimus looks up to him, a hero unparalleled. He's this series Ace Rimmer, and intentionally too as Roberts is a big red dwarf fan, something that isn't a huge suprise but is welcome.

For those not familiar with Ace, he's the alternate counterpart of Red Dwarf's Arnold Rimmer, an uptight attempted ladder climber who usually fails due to his own incomptience and ego, while Ace is everything Arnold WISHES he could be: Smart, handsome, good with a joke, beloved.

So naturually someone like Rodimus, full of ego and self importance himself, needed someone just simply better than him doing the same job who everyone on his crew unabashadely loves. Thunderclash is just.. that nice and I love the ways they bend over backwards to make EVERYONE fall for this guy, from him being one of the few autbots to be nice to cyclonus and earn his genuine respect with his knoweldge, to teaching Perciptor of all people something. It's just great fun and it's just as fun to watch Hot Rod gnash his teeth over someone else getting all the attention.

There's also a third kinda plot as the crew runs into the Ammonites, a group of robots fighting a forever war with some bug aliens that whirl seemingly end sin ten minutes. We don't know how and tha'ts how I sleep at night

All three collide at the end: Thunderclash's ship needs a jump, esspecailly since, while an epic hero of epicness, he's dying: the ship is Thunderclash's life support and being the autobot's own personal jesus, he's naturally using this time to save everyone he can. It's why his crew's behind on their own quest for the knights.

Sadly one of his crew turns out to be an ammonite spy and they turn out to not have been the good guys, thankfully Rung has an idea and turns into a blunt insturment. Or is it an object. point is he's blunt, hard and blunt. As for WHAT he is...

This will be important going forward, and in hindsight may be one of the most important little bits in this issue. Thunderclash will be too.

We then get the ending which is... eh in my eyes. I like Lost Light's comedy, I point you to just a few paragraphs ago with the stupid alt mode night joke. But this bit.. feels a bit of a stretch: it turns out the film was being screened to the circle of light who ALL, every one of them, boo hiss and complain about them all being fuckups. Besides being more than a little harsh... the film was made by a DEAD AUTOBOT. Rewind DIED before this was made and i'm damn sure they told them that. I like the jokes and I don't mind shots at how little the crews acomplished, it's a decent runner but here.. it just feels mean. Doubly so since the lost light JUST SAVED THEIR ASSES and the ENTIRE UNIVERSE, and not a one of them think tha'ts neat. We get a heartwarming ending showing how much it means but this joke.. just really dosen't work at all. One of Roberts rare misfires but boy is it off target.

That said the issue overall is fun and i'm glad I gave it a second shot. It's good stuff and like seemingly EVERYTHING before the finale itself, it's got a lot of setup.

Next Time: Before we can get to DARK CYBERTRON we have to see what everyone else has been up to

Thanks for reading

#transformers #transformers more than meets the eye #hot rod #ultra magnus #comics #idw #autobots #swerve #skids #tailgate #ratchet #pharma

19 notes · View notes

zenaidamacrouras1 · 2 years

Note

Heyo! For the wrapped ask, number 13? Stucky?

Also just wanted to say you’re one of my favourite fic authors I’ve found in a while ❤️ I often anticipate the smutty stuff the most but in your fics I enjoy the in-betweens so much! The way your write children is simultaneously the most warm yet hilarious prose and it always feels so much more lifelike than I often read? Having kids probably helps lol. Sorry I’m just rambling on but you’ve brought me a lot of comfort in the past few months and I appreciate you a lot

Hope you have a good one!!! :)

Thank you for the amazingly kind sweet words - so encouraging - flattery will get you everywhere, so here is a 2500 word smutty fic inspired by this wistful little love song, and yes, I wrote this whole fucking thing last night laying in bed and edited it today in between work calls because I have ADHD, we've talked about this, my brain is very good at doing exactly what it wants and sometimes our interests align and things like this happen.

I listened to this album (So Jealous) on repeat when writing the sad chapters of my fic Tension and Tonic, so not surprised this song ended up in my top songs nor in the direction this story took.

Tegan and Sarah - Take Me Anywhere

Warning this is smutty with graphic sexytimes.

“Stop making me laugh. I'm trying to be sexy," Steve laughs.

"If you can't laugh and be sexy what are you even doing, sweetheart," Bucky drawls back and that's probably when Steve fell in love with Bucky. Unfortunately it was also during their first hook up. It was decent enough - mutual blow jobs. Bucky clearly knew what he was doing. On the surface nothing too different than Steve’s normal routine of finding a guy and blowing off some steam, but there were a lot of subtle red flags that should have warned Steve to run like hell.

Like how entranced Steve was when it was his turn to make Bucky feel good. Bucky, with his dancer's grace, with the asymmetry of his missing arm making the lines of him more perfect somehow, his long hair falling loose into his face, framing his perfect jawline, the pink O of his mouth, the dark smudge of his eyelashes. The way his elegant fingers fluttered so tenderly along Steve's cheek when he sucked in. It was. Lovely. Bucky is lovely. Lovable. It's a problem.

That first time Bucky had sort of folded Steve into his body after, pulling him up onto the couch and burying his face in Steve's hair in a way that normally would have made Steve bristle because he is small but he's not a fucking stuffed animal. But Bucky hummed and sighed in this contented way. Bucky is all bones and muscular and yet fluid and it feels powerful to be held so desperately by someone like that.

"Sorry I’m a cuddler, just shove me off when you get sick of me," Bucky hums, and laughs after a minute, and lets Steve go. "Don't make fun of me, I can't have sex with out snuggling, I should have warned you in the Grindr chat," and Bucky is easy and lax and happy and Steve could have maybe stayed longer without it being weird, but by then, he kind of wanted to stay forever so he definitely needed to go right away.

Bucky is a former ballet dancer. Well, he still dances actually, but he was a principal with the New York City Ballet till he lost his arm, a story he shrugs off easily. "My ma always said I'd lose my head if it wasn't attached and turns out it's the same for my arm? I called the Coney Island lost and found, but it wasn't there? Just kidding, it was a car accident, just glad I'm alive." He's the assistant director of fundraising for the ballet now, and does some choreography too, Steve's not sure how it all works, but Bucky is happy and charming and Steve would definitely hand over all his money to fund the ballet if Bucky had asked him. But. Bucky's never asked him to donate to the ballet. They don't talk about work stuff beyond the minimum. Steve’s just happy they talk at all.

The next week Steve's phone pings and it's Bucky on Grindr again, and apparently Bucky had a shit day and wants to get fucked, and he likes Steve's dick so, well, does Steve top? Steve saves his work, stops his time tracker, and that's all the graphics that are getting designed for today. He changes out of his work from home sweats and puts on his date jeans, and heads over to Bucky's place to take them back off again. Bucky's wearing a suit, his hair slicked back, and the arm of the suit neatly tailored up. He looks amazing, his tie just a little loose around his neck, his eyes lazy and suggestive, moving right into Steve's space and dipping his head down for a kiss before Steve can even say hello.

Steve can work with that, he pushes Bucky into the wall and spreads Bucky’s legs enough so that they're the same height and untucks Bucky's shirt so he can feel up his slim frame. Steve moves Bucky through his apartment and into his bed, and climbs on top of Bucky, and Bucky reaches into the bedtime table for lube and condoms and it's good, it's so good, and Steve can't recommend fucking a ballerina or whatever a guy ballet dancer is any higher, especially when Bucky bites hard into Steve's shoulder and keens desperately and more and more until Steve's ready to last forever if Bucky needs him to, except then Bucky's shaking apart with his one hand in Steve's hair and kissing him messily all teeth and heaving breath and that's fine. Steve loves Bucky's teeth.

After, Steve's forcibly cuddled by Bucky again, which is fine because Steve's legs are kind of rubbery because he's not as athletic as Bucky - then again, who is.

Steve cuddles with Bucky and listens to him ramble on about nothing in particular before sliding back into his date jeans and letting himself out. In his head tells himself this is a business transaction more or less. Steve is a consultant who knows how to do authentic and meaningful work for his clients and move on. A skillshare of sorts.

It sort of becomes a Friday night thing. Most Friday nights Bucky seems to have some kind of high end fundraiser related to his work at the ballet. It makes sense that Bucky can’t be hunting for a hookup while representing his work, so it’s perfectly logical that he’d touch base with Steve after for a bit of no strings attached fun. Steve doesn’t see any need to tell Bucky that he’s not seeing anyone else and also that he’d love to be Bucky’s boyfriend because, haha, what? Why would he say that?

Honestly, they barely know each other beyond Steve having every inch of Bucky’s flexible, lovely body memorized. Steve’s favorite parts are the imperfections, the freckles, the scars, the cowlick that makes his hair stick up funny if he doesn’t slather product in it. He doesn’t mention it, because what kind of asshole would mention it, but he’s transfixed by the way Bucky adapts to having one arm, because it’s just so fucking beautiful. It draws the eye, the way his liquid grace casually defies gravity. It often seems his momentum should go one way, but it seamlessly flows another, and Steve wants to draw Bucky or at least take a picture of him. But they don’t do that.

"I looked up your art," Bucky murmurs into Steve's hair one evening during their post coital cling session that maybe gets a little longer every week. Steve kind of freezes because what? He didn’t realize Bucky even knew his last name? "It's good. You're pretty badass. It's impressive. I can't draw for shit, so I was curious what kind of art you do. Maybe we could commission you at the ballet, you like drawing ballet shoes and legs and shit?"

"Oh," Steve says because, like, seriously, Bucky, do you not know what a hookup is? Steve should be getting dressed right now, not letting Bucky lazily slide his hand up and down Steve's back while talking about his art.

"It's dynamic, lots of movement, reminded me of dancing. Maybe I have a dancing brain. Everything reminds me of dancing," Bucky laughs, and his breath is hot into Steve's hair, and Steve laughs too, because laughter is the appropriate response and also dear oh dear. Yeah. Bucky Barnes is lovable.

"You had heart surgery?" Bucky asks in a sudden subject change. And Steve wonders for a minute how Bucky knows that. In his defense, he's drunk on sex endorphins and being stroked like a kitten and practically purring.

"Yeah, couple of em," Steve says. It's such an enormous scar. Obviously Bucky noticed the damn thing, they’ve been naked together close to a dozen times.

"It's all ticking away alright now though?" Bucky says softly, and Steve huffs a yes and pulls back before he falls asleep. "Should I not have asked? I feel like I have no filter about scars and shit since I got de-armed. It's like, I dunno. My injury is the first thing everyone sees. You're probably as bored as I am of talking about it."

"Did you ever have a filter?" Steve teases, and Bucky laughs hard, his head thrown back with joy, and that feels good. "Yeah, Buck, I'm pretty healthy these days."

Steve manages to escape a little while later. He looks up videos of Bucky dancing. It's only fair if Bucky's been looking up Steve's art. What he does next in the privacy of his own home when he sees Bucky's thighs in those ballet tights is his own business. All of the videos are from before the car accident. Bucky looks strange with two arms, off balance and overloaded, which makes absolutely no sense, but Steve’s just so used to Bucky’s body how it is now.

They meet up the next week, and Bucky’s freshly showered from a dance performance, which, Steve didn’t realize Bucky was performing anymore, let alone today. Bucky’s full of adrenaline and way pushier than normal, taking Steve’s mouth and getting Steve up against the wall. Usually Steve doesn’t like to be pushed around, but he trusts Bucky by now. He’s really a super nice guy. Steve couldn’t be luckier in having such a convenient sex arrangement with such a beautiful, kind, sexually compatible person. This is a thought he has briefly before Bucky grabs him by the crotch and presses their shoulders together hard, slamming Steve into the wall, and Steve’s mind kind of whites out.

After they’re laying on the floor in the hallway of Bucky’s apartment, huffing and limp and half dressed. Steve reaches into his jacket pocket, (how convenient they are still right there by the door) and takes a puff of his inhaler.

“Shit, you ok?” Bucky asks in surprise.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I’m cat-sitting for a friend, got my allergies up, and you know, I know that wasn’t enough exertion to get your heart rate up, but some of us mere mortals have physical limits.”

Bucky laughs dryly. “My heart rate was up Steve. Before the physical exertion started, actually though,” he adds softly. And what is that supposed to mean?

Steve lays in bed awake half the night trying to decide if he should go to Bucky’s dance performance the next night. It’s in a massive hall, there’s no way Bucky would know. Is it too intimate? Is it too stalkery? Does he mention it after if he goes? Is it weirder if he goes and doesn’t mention it? That would be weird if he doesn’t mention it, so okay he has to mention it but does he mention it before or after he goes? The tickets are expensive too, so then it’s weird like, does he seem like he’s trying to score free tickets if he mentions it before? But then Bucky seems like the type to be annoyed if Steve pays when Bucky has free tickets on offer. Ugh.

In the end, Steve goes, and he buys the ticket and doesn’t tell Bucky, and he cries because Bucky’s dancing is amazing, and breathtaking, and every adjective, and Steve could draw only Bucky for the rest of his life and not have captured the lines, the strength of him, the defiance. He wants to explain to the person next to him that he’s not crying because he’s like inspired that Bucky is disabled, but because he’s in love with Bucky, and it’s one thing to suspect the guy you’ve been fucking with no strings attached every Friday night for months is perfect, but it’s another thing to have it proven.

Steve doesn’t mention to Bucky that he went to his performance, but he tries to put it into the way he touches Bucky the next week. Reverent. He spends close to an hour opening Bucky up with his mouth and fingers, and the sounds Bucky makes when Steve finally enters him, kissing him gently down his neck, the way Bucky’s out of athletic moves to try and wow Steve with, but just transcendently arching up, helpless with pleasure, that’s how Steve lets Bucky know he saw him dance, and he loved it, and he loves Bucky.

That night, Bucky asks him to stay the night, and Steve actually has an early Saturday meeting with a client, he’s not making it up, he even shows Bucky the calendar note, and Bucky laughs happily, and says it isn’t a big deal. But. It seems like a big deal. Steve makes sure not to schedule anything the next Saturday, in case Bucky asks again, but Bucky doesn’t ask again. Which is fine.

Then something strange happens. Steve’s locking up Wanda’s apartment from checking on her cat, and his phone pings, and it’s Bucky via Grindr, asking for Steve’s phone number. It’s actually super weird they haven’t done the phone number thing yet, honestly, Steve doesn’t even use Grindr except to confirm his weekly dates with Bucky. Steve sends his number over as he’s walking to the subway to head back home, it’s only one stop, but it’s cold.

Bucky texts him right away, asking him what he’s doing Friday. Steve says he’s open, because, duh? At this point, Steve would turn down the presidential medal of freedom if the ceremony was on a Friday night between 10 pm and midnight.

Bucky asks him what he’s doing at 6 pm on Friday, and that’s new. They almost never hang out before 10 pm, or whenever Bucky’s fundraising events wrap up. Steve’s not doing anything in particular, and says as much. Bucky asks if he’d hate wearing a suit and getting free wine? And Steve does not, in fact, hate free wine. He also has a decent suit, he thinks it’s pretty stylish still, he had it tailored a few years ago, but men’s styles don’t change as fast as women’s, which is a relief when you are not a standard human male size and have to have all your clothes custom fit to make sure you don’t look like a child wearing their dad’s dress up clothes.

Bucky asks if Steve would want to meet up with him at his fundraiser on Friday, it’s at an art gallery, and the art reminded him of Steve. Steve feels his heart pound.

S: I like free wine, wearing suits, and art galleries. Sure.

B: Another question.

S: I also like answering questions

B: Do you like holding hands?

S: Depends on the hand.

B: I mean, I only have the one.

Steve feels dizzy.

S: Yes, I would like holding your hand. One is sufficient for my needs.

B: And you would like holding my hand and going somewhere with me on a date?

S: You could take me anywhere.

#spotify wrapped writing challenge #spotify wrapped ficlet #spotify wrapped fic #this is 2500 words #it's a damn fic #I'll clean it up and post it to ao3 at some point too #stucky au #stucky fanfic #ballet Bucky #Catching feelings #is my weakness.#smut

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lonesome-witching · 1 year

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We'll Rule the World

I did not proofread this. I did not edit this. I wrote this in about an hour while being tired and stressed for tomorrow. But I still want to share it with you guys.

So, let's say this is my final work for @strangerthingsfemslashweek for day 7: free choice

“I like to believe that someday we’ll rule the world.” Robin lay on the hood of the Wheeler station wagon, staring at the stars in the sky. Nancy sitting next to her.

“Why is that?” She asks, her gaze directed straight ahead of her.

“Because life sucks and people treat women like garbage. I keep thinking of the guy at Pennhurst. The way he looked at us. It just gets under my skin.”

Nancy scoffs. Her own mind taking her back to the Hawkins Post and the men who treated her like filth. Like she was a puppet there for their amusement and to get their lunches.

“Sorry, you probably didn’t invite me to hang out just to talk about misogyny.” Robin clears her throat and takes a sip of her drink. A can of lukewarm beer that Nancy found in the back of one of the cupboards in her kitchen.

When Nancy didn’t reply, she spoke again. “Why did you invite me?” It was a loaded question and Robin knew it before she decided to ask it.

“I- I don’t really know. I just needed some company and I guess it’s just easy with you.” Nancy doesn’t turn around to face Robin. Maybe she should but she doesn’t know if she can. She doesn’t know if she has the strength to look at the other girl in the dim starlight.

“Oh.”

“Sorry. Should I take you back home?” This time Nancy does turn, before she can think better of it. Her eyes catch Robin’s gaze and she wants to scream.

“No, I’m okay. I’m perfectly fine.”

Nancy leans back, lays down next to Robin, avoids her gaze once again. “Can you tell me a story?”

“What kind of story?”

“Any kind. Just something that is true.” Nancy frowns at her own words. Even she doesn’t know what she wants, what she means with them. Somehow Robin does. Because Robin always understands.

“When I was a sophomore with barely any friends I would go and lay on the roof of my house. If I climb out of the window and position my foot just right in this crack in the wall I can just reach it. On the way down I’ve fallen a few times though. Anyway, I would lay there much like I lay here on the hood of your car, and I would stare up at the stars and dream. There was this one dream that particularly stuck with me.” She pauses for a second, collects her thoughts and continues.

“I always talked about leaving Hawkins and running away to Europe or just anywhere. But as I was laying on my rooftop I would always dream of just belonging here. I’d dream of making friends and finding someone to love and settling down in a small house at the end of a cul-de-sac.”

Nancy couldn’t keep the grimace off her face.

“Sounds horrible, doesn’t it? I completely agree. Because that wasn’t my dream. It was what I was supposed to dream. It was the easy way out. And I would imagine it and there would be this knot in my stomach and I realized that even though I could try it, dream it, imagine it, I could never be it. I could never be the person that this town wanted me to be. Wants me to be. So, I became the opposite. I tried to rebel. I started slinging ice cream to escape. I told every person that would listen that this town is a trap. And somehow that’s how I found a place to belong. That’s about as real as I can get.” There’s a soft smile on her face as she keeps her eyes on her beer. The one she’s not drinking anymore.

“Where are you going to go?” Nancy feels a tug at her heart, a reminder of what she’s ignoring.

“I’m thinking Paris. The way that city is described in songs and poetry, it must be magnificent, life-changing.”

“Paris does sound nice.”

“Where are you going to go?” Robin repeats the question with a smile and a sparkle in her eyes.

“I’m going to be little miss perfect. I’ll go to Boston, get my degree and then… Maybe Indianapolis or Chicago but probably somewhere like Hawkins.” Nancy does take another drink of the beer. It’s vile and burns her throat in a way beer really shouldn’t. But it fits her mood.

“Where do you want to go?”

“New York, maybe. Paris sounds great. LA or Rome or London. Somewhere big and grand and full of possibilities. Somewhere that keeps surprising you even though you’ve lived there 20 years. Somewhere you can be anonymous because you keep getting swallowed in massive crowds that lead you astray but you let them because it’s better than being seen.”

“You know you can do that, right? You don’t have to be little miss perfect. You can be you. And that will be perfect enough.” Robin’s pinky slides against Nancy’s hand.

“My parents would not approve.”

“Karen will be fine with it, she wants you to be happy. And Ted, he’d barely notice. And even if they’d hate you for it, Nance, you have to do what makes you happy. There is no point in pretending, in pleasing other people. This is your life. Take it, do something with it, live it.”

Nancy can’t help herself. She grabs Robin’s hand and intertwines their fingers. “I’m scared.” She admits, her throat closing up.

“What are you scared of?”

“I’m scared of admitting what I want… Who I want.”

Robin looks at their intertwined hands. “Who do you want?” She asks breathlessly.

Nancy doesn’t reply. She doesn’t know how to get the simple admission out of her mouth. Because she has been hiding for so long. She has been denying it for so long.

“Who do you want, Nance?” Robin asks again a few moments later.

“I want you.” Her voice breaks on that last word. A sob threatens to slip out.

“I want you too.”

Nancy turns her head to find Robin already staring at her. Robin’s thumb strokes over the back of her hand and that is encouragement enough for Nancy to close the distance. To finally quench that thirst in her heart that kept trying to leap out, that has leapt out.

They kiss for hours and hours. Until the sun rises in the sky and they are both breathless and smiling and hopeful for the future. Because one day they’ll rule the world.

#my work #stranger things femslash week #ronance #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #fanfic #nancy x robin #robin x nancy #nancy and robin #robin and nancy

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icedteaandoldlace · 3 months

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I never saw The Thief and the Cobbler, but I grew up seeing the trailer for it all the time as a kid on one of our VHS's, and I always found Tack off-putting. Like, when he first appeared onscreen I was like, "oh, that's a cute lil fella" but then the SECOND he opened his mouth, I was like "NOPE", and from there on out I was very much Not Interested in seeing this movie. Just something about the sound of his voice, and the way he said his name, and also kind of the way his mouth moved—it just didn't fit with what his character design had led me to expect, and idk how to explain it, the vibes were just rancid.

So fast forward to last night, I saw the Recobbled Edition come up in my YouTube suggestions. And I remembered that my sister had told me a year or two ago that she had seen The Thief and the Cobbler once, and that there was something weird and confusing about it that she just Did Not get. This of course had led to me Googling it and finding out that there was a behind-the-scenes explanation for why it's Like That, but while looking at the thumbnail on my YouTube dashboard now, I couldn't remember what that explanation was, or even what she had found so weird about it in the first place.

Naturally, this led to me looking it up again, and of course, I saw straight away that the issue was that the movie had never been finished, but had still somehow gotten released anyway. So I found myself reading the plot section of its Wikipedia page, trying to determine how being unfinished had affected how watchable it was. Did it end in a weird spot? Were there chunks of it missing that made the plot impossible to follow? I only skimmed the plot summary to find out, but as far as I could tell, it looked like it had a fully developed plot, which made enough sense to the person who'd written that page, at least. Then I got to the end of the summary, and it said of the final scene, "Tack finally says 'I love you', in a baritone voice."

And my reaction to that was just ".......what?" Because that's a strange way to word that description. It seemed almost like it was implying that Tack...didn't talk??? And that this was the first time in the whole movie that he said something?? But I distinctly remember that clip from the trailer where he speaks, because that was the thing that swayed me to determining that This Is Not The Film For Me. And he wasn't exactly Mickey Mouse before, so if they had changed his voice in the final scene for comedic effect, making him "suddenly" have a baritone voice would be kinda dumb, because his voice already doesn't suit his character design, so what exactly are they going for here?

So I pulled up the movie on YouTube, and I didn't watch the whole entire thing, but I got up to the scene from the trailer, where he's repairing the princess's shoe, and when she asks him his name, he HOLDS UP A TACK, and she asks him if that's his name, and he just nods his head. He doesn't say anything! He hadn't said anything up to that point, and he didn't say anything then, either! His mouth isn't even visible for the majority of the time he's on screen, and the tacks in his mouth do the work of forming his expressions. And he is actually the cute lil cartoon fella that I thought he was the first time I saw that trailer, before he opened his mouth and ruined it. He's straight up endearing when he's silent the whole time, and the fact that he reminded me of Raggedy Andy just added to that effect (and as it turns out, the director/head animator of the Raggedy Ann movie was the same guy behind The Thief and the Cobbler, which explains A LOT about the art and animation style).

Some deeper digging led me to finding that after the rights to the movie were sold and a whole new production team assigned to getting it ready for release, the new guy in charge didn't even want to be working on it, and he added a lot of unnecessary speaking parts for Tack, which was mostly narration but also involved speaking to the other characters at some points. So his version added dialogue and mouth animation where it didn't exist before, and in doing so totally killed the vibe of its central character. What the heck?!?!??!

#The Thief and the Cobbler #I LIKE THE NONVERBAL LIL GUY WHY'D THEY DO THAT TO HIM????#and I mean his voice at the end of the other version doesn't fit him either #but it sounds like they had just used a stand in and either hadn't actually cast him yet or just hadn't recorded with his voice actor yet

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carmenrios · 6 months

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i think i want to tell the version of the story she told me not to, the meandering one that only makes sense in my heart, the one where somehow the girl who grew up counting the cars that we zoomed past in those compact cars tricked herself into thinking that someday we'd stop making out in the car and start proving everyone else wrong, the one where somehow all the roads led right here, the one where i ran away from what in retrospect was good for me and toward something less certain and never learned better, the one where i got hurt and didn't get over it, the one where i'm not perfect or likable or good but i'm alive, the one where i miss what i left behind but i can't bring myself to let go of what i came here looking for, the one where my mother's daughter is worried she hasn't come far enough.

or maybe it isn't that i want to, but that i have to, because the manuscript doesn't sing, it doesn't smell like cigarettes and the ocean breeze in the dead of night on the pacific coast highway, it doesn't glow like the sun on the way to beverly hills when i'm still caffeinated enough to delude myself into believing that was the best love story i'd ever had the privilege to write down. i wrote it and i read it and i put it away, mostly because every time i looked back at it i wished it was different, that i had a neat bow to tie up at the end instead of coming to the conclusion that what i have done for thirty years is drive in a circle and find a new way to fall for it every tie. i wished i had a different ending, and then i wondering if maybe it was still coming, if maybe i just needed to wait, so i drove north and west and south and east, across the country a second time, singing until my throat hurt while i used a bottle of sparkling water as a microphone, stood in the snow while a storm raged around me and whined that i just wanted to get to my hotel, let my eyes well up with tears for no reason whatsoever when the road opened up, got dressed over and over and over and genuinely believed that day it would be different, but the edits never came.

for months, for years, no words ran through my mind on the 10, no poetry emerged in a daydream as i stabilized my speed. i drove miles and miles and miles without pulling off to the side of the road to open this app. i went weeks without publishing a little secret missive to nobody, rode for hours while the bike stood still and never formed a single sentence. i didn't want to write the story the way it felt, so i stopped writing what i wanted next, sat still in my pain and wondered when it would pass, laid in front of the fireplace and hoped i'd eventually feel like myself again.

this isn't the first time, it's sort of always like this, i stand still and i watch the past recede and i get impatient for the next incarnation and brace myself for how unrecognizable i'll become to myself. and hear me out, because i blame all of this on the playlist, on the songs i kept in a bottle and sent away down the river of my heartache because i knew they would do this to me, fill me with sunsets and sepia-tone memories of something that was barely yesterday, make me want to forgive myself and everyone else along with her, compel me to finish what i started, remind me who i am. hear me out, because i don't know where i've been but i want to come back, because i can't explain what i've been doing but i know i don't want to do it anymore, because i'm burned out and tired and falling apart again and this time i really do want it to all be different when i find my way out.

#oversharing

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scarlettriot · 3 years

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She Lit A Fire: Pt 4 - Making Habits

Pairing: Dad!Kirishima x F!Reader

Warnings: Injuries, Hospital setting, Swearing

Contains: Kirishima as a father. Reader has an established quirk. Main characters are in their late 20s. Fluff. Some angst. Broken family situation. Absent mother-figure.

Summary: Kiri finds himself with you at the hospital every day for the rest of your stay but, when his daughter's beloved toy goes missing he ends up on a late night phone call with you.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Tag List: Has been moved into the comments ♡ As always though, thank you for reading! I am thrilled you enjoy this fic so much! @silverhairsimp thanks for being my betareader bb!

A/N: Reader is American. This chapter also switches from both Kiri's and Reader's POVs. There are text conversations in this chapter, Kiri is Red and Reader is Purple. I’ll also admit, I have not really edited this… sorry about that.

Word Count: 5,347

The day was finally starting to catch up with Eijiro. He’d already planned on going to the hospital to see you, he’d done it for the last two days, what he hadn’t been expecting was Tamaki’s call asking if he was planning on going. Tamaki had finally convinced you to let him come up and see you and he wanted to bring his son along, five year old Kaio, but he also wanted to talk to you alone first.

That meant Eijiro spent several hours at the park across from the hospital, chasing down his daughter and her best friend. And somehow, that was so much more exhausting than fending off a group of villains!

It was worth it though. When Tamaki texted him, giving him the all clear to come back with the kids, he quickly understood that it wasn’t just Remi you were good with, Kaio took to you instantly. If he hadn’t known this was your first time meeting the boy in person he would have thought you never left his side since the day he was born.

You slipped easily from conversations with him and Tamaki right into one’s with the children, like a pro! Though, he didn’t find himself talking much today, not that he minded. You were catching up with Tamaki, learning all about Kaio, and also listening to his daughter tell tales of their adventures together. And Eijiro, he was more than happy to just sit back and take it all in.

It wasn’t often that he got the chance to watch someone he saved recover, see them get better and better each day, watch the light of their smile grow brighter. It was a reward he’d never been granted and he considered it a privilege to be at your bedside throughout your improvement.

The thing was, you weren’t just someone to him anymore. You weren’t just some woman who found his daughter in the park either. Now you were also friends with his friends, family to one of them, and to Remi, she looked at you as if you personally hung every star in the night sky.

To Eijiro personally though, he wasn’t too sure what you were just yet. But, damn was he eager to find out.

For now, he sat under the canopy of string lights that made up Tamaki’s and Mirio’s back deck. Remi had crawled her way up to his lap right about the same time Kaio had claimed Mirio’s.

“I still can’t wrap my head around the fact she’s really here. She moved here.”

Tamaki had been rolling the same question around all night long. Eijiro had done his best to stay quiet during these moments, not wanting to butt into family matters but the words slipped off his tongue.

“She just said she wanted a fresh start. Why’s it so impossible to think she’d want to do that here?”

“Because she had a life back there, Eijiro, and she just… left.”

Eijiro realized there were things you’d told Tamaki that you didn’t share with anyone else, the way the man carefully worded his sentences made that obvious. But, it was the way he said it that made Eijiro’s heart sink and he asked the question he wasn’t sure he wanted an answer to, “Did she leave anyone… in particular?”

“So, she hasn’t told you.”

“It’s not my place to talk about my cousin’s life.”

“Yeah, but, we can’t just let him think she did what Toki did to him and Rem.”

Tamaki sighed, staring down into his glass like it would show him all the answers. “My cousin was engaged, Eijiro. The wedding was in just a couple months.”

“And, and she just left the guy and came here? No explanation or anything?”

“No, no, nothing like that! She told me differences arose between them and he chose to leave but what those differences were, she hasn’t told me.”

So, a breakup mixed with some type of incident, or, that was what he assumed with the pieces you gave.

He noticed the thick scar along your side when a nurse came into give you a shot just yesterday and, like an idiot, he brought it up and apparently, the negative memories that came with it. He tried playing it off when he saw how defeated you looked, told you he knew all too well about the painful memories scars can leave even after they’ve healed but it took Remi slipping a colorful beaded bracelet on your wrist for you to smile again.

Eijiro hadn’t stopped thinking about it though, whatever you went through, could it have been what drove you to move?

His hand ran down the length of Remi’s back and then up again. “Well, whatever her reason for coming here, I say we give her the fresh start she wants.”

The couple looked at him, “It’s obvious something happened but at the end of the day, what that something is doesn’t really matter, does it? When things crumble around us, we either get buried or move forward. She’s choosing to move forward and we support her, do what we can to help.”

Tamaki’s face settled on a small smile while Mirio agreed wholeheartedly.

Not too long after, Eijiro was gathering up Remi’s bag she toted around to the hospital with her, full of coloring books and craft supplies. With the bag over his shoulder and his daughter in his arms, he said goodnight to Tamaki at the door.

“You’ve always been bright, ya know, I’ve always thought that,” Eijiro stopped and turned back to the man. “But, I sometimes forget how insightful you can be too.”

He chuckled. “You shouldn’t underestimate me, Tams.”

“I’ve learned that. I nearly get my arm dislocated in training when I do. Thank you though, for being there for her.”

“Of course.” He promised to keep being there too, as long as you wanted him to be. It was half past ten by the time the pair got home. Remi just waking up when Eijiro slipped her shoes from her feet.

“Little pebble, go brush your teeth, and then you can go to bed, okay? You can take a bath in the morning.” She groggily agreed but stopped walking when he hung up her bag, looking at the thing with her head tilted to the side. “What’s wrong, baby?”

She reached her hands up for it, making grabby fists until he lowered it into them. “He not here…” She spun the bag around, opening pockets and digging inside, “Daddy, daddy, he’s not here!”

He must have been tired because it took him longer than it should have to realize who 'he' was.

“We gotta go, daddy, gotta go right now and find him!”

The little plush Fat Gum keychain had been the first hero merch she got as a baby, well, the first besides his own. She took the little toy everywhere with her. No matter what other toys she received, Little Fat was always close to her heart.

And, so, Eijiro had to let her look. They went back down the block, searched in front of their house and he even called Tamaki but no such luck.

Eijiro finally convinced her to lay down though, wiping fat tears from her round cheeks. “Promise, Pebble, we’ll keep lookin’ tomorrow, okay? But, you gotta sleep so your eyes are wide open! You might miss’em if you’re too tired.”

That logic seemed to work for her. Remi’s tiny arms hugged the 3ft Fat Gum close to her and closed her eyes when Eijiro kissed the top of her head.

Shutting the door quietly behind him, he finally let his mind spiral, she couldn’t have really lost the thing, right? It had to be some place! He didn’t even want to think about the bidding wars he’d get into trying to win her another one since that particular item was retired.

After he rechecked Remi’s bag and all around the front of the house, he had one more thing he could try before opening up eBay.

Eijiro pulled up Taishiro’s messages, nearly midnight was too late to call the guy, and he asked if by some chance he still had a few tucked away some place but, before he sent it, his phone chimed and your name popped up.

Curiosity among the chaos made him open your message first and he was instantly relieved when he did.

Your face was pressed up against the little stuffy and the comment below: Found this little guy tangled up in my sheets. Tam said it was Remi’s. Thought I’d let ya know he’s safe and sound with me.

He breathed slow and steady, his heart finally slowing down. Eijiro even got up and peaked in Remi’s room to let her know but miraculously, she was already asleep.

That left him to collapse heavily onto his sofa, laying on his back while he typed out: I hope you know you’re a lifesaver. Remi’s been a mess.

You were quick to respond, He’ll be here waiting for you two tomorrow. Or tonight if she’s really missin’ him.

She’s actually asleep, but thank you so much! And now his heart was hammering again, you were already planning on them coming up tomorrow even though it hadn’t been talked about, you were even willing to let them back tonight. Speaking of sleep, shouldn’t you be doing that? You look far too awake in this photo.

He was already setting it as your contact ID in his phone when you sent, I don’t sleep well in hospitals, or new places in general.

I’m sure they could give you something to help.

I’ll be alright. They’re telling me one more day of observation and I should be able to go home the following day. Hopefully staying at Midoriya’s will be better.

THAT’S GREAT NEWS!

Yeah! So, two more nights of crappy sleep and then a good night's sleep is all mine.

Eijiro flipped a pillow behind his head, If you’re not sleepin’ then what are ya gonna do?

Watch mindless television that I know nothing about… stare at the wall…

Sounds boring. He hesitated before typing out, You could talk to me instead. And sent the followup message.

It took you a moment longer he noticed but he smiled to himself reading your response, Why don’t you call me then?

But call how… a phone call was the safer option but he really just wanted to see your face too. Was it worth the risk? He could say it was an accident if you declined it… yeah, he went for it.

It was dark when you picked up but he heard your quiet whisper of a hello and what sounded like shuffling as you put headphones in. A dull yellow light flicked on behind you and then you were filling up his screen.

“Hey.” Eijiro felt around the floor for his obnoxiously long phone cable and plugged it in. “How are you?”

“All good over here. What about you?”

“Yeah, same here.” He watched as you rolled on your side, balancing your phone on the little table beside your bed and his heart flipped when he saw Little Fat resting against your pillow. “Hey, why are you whispering?”

“I dunno,” Oh, now you were smiling at him, pulling the blanket up around you, “Kinda feel like a kid sneaking around after bedtime trying not to get yelled at by her parents.”

“Think the doctors are gonna yell at you for being on your phone?”

“They might!” Even your laugh was quiet.

He settled in, tucking his arm under his head, he told you about dinner with Tamaki and Mirio, what you guys had for dinner, and then listened to you talk about the first time Tamaki got you to eat takoyaki. He could have listened to you talk about anything for hours.

And that was exactly what he’d done.

You shared stories back and forth just between the two of you for the first time. He was able to curse and not need to panic that Remi had heard him. You closed your eyes laughing over something he’d said and so many times he had to mentally remind himself he couldn’t laugh at full volume because Remi was asleep. But, Eijiro couldn’t remember a recent time he’d had so much fun on a phone call, he didn’t want it to end… and technically, it didn’t.

> > > < < <

“DADDY!” He jolted awake, falling off the sofa and onto the floor right by Remi’s feet, “Daddy we gotta go find Little Fat! Right now! Who dis? Hello!”

She had his phone before he could grab it, “Hello!” Your startled face came into the frame, “Ms. Y/N… oh…” Eijiro inclined on his elbows watching his daughter closely inspect the phone screen, “Ms. Y/N, you have a Little Fat Gum too?”

He pulled her with the phone down into his lap to explain, “Actually, baby, Ms. Y/N found Little Fat last night all tangled up in her blankets.”

“Why was he there?”

“Well, remember how Little Fat makes you feel better when you’re sick or sad?” She nodded, “I think he was trying to make sure Ms Y/N felt a little better too.”

You’d remained quiet, a sleepy smile on your face while he explained but then Remi held the phone up to look at you fully. “Did he help? Are you feeling better?”

“I’m feeling so much better, kiddo! Thanks for letting me borrow him!”

“You’re sure? You can keep him for a little longer if you gotta.”

Eijiro thought he might have seen tears in your eyes. “Remiru, you are the sweetest little girl. He helped me so much last night and I think he’s ready to be picked up.”

Remi spun in his lap, dropping the phone square on his ankle bone, “Okay, daddy, you heard her. We gotta go get Little Fat now.”

“Yes, baby. Go pick out clothes and we’ll go in a minute.”

He pulled himself back on the sofa, rubbing the last bit of sleep from his eyes. Damn, how long had you two talked for?

“Nice bed head.” He looked at you between his fingers, you were smiling with another laugh on your lips.

“Yeah. Yours looks pretty cute too. All this way and that.”

He watched you dramatically flip it while he got up and stretched. “Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you shortly. I’m gonna stop for breakfast on the way, how about I sneak you in something? What wouldya like?”

That night was indeed supposed to be your last in the hospital. Eijiro and Remi stayed in your room while you had a few final tests run, they even left and managed to sneak you in some boba around lunch time. Dinner was the finest pizza the hospital had to offer. Demolished by the three of you until there was nothing but crumbs of crust left.

Being your last night, Eijiro hadn’t meant to stay that late. He knew you’d have a busy day tomorrow, getting settled into Izuku’s apartment and all that, and yet, the clock ticked later and later and he found himself not wanting to leave.

While you helped Remi fold a paper airplane he found himself wondering if you’d still want to do this, want to spend time with the two of them. He had no clue how to ask and he probably wouldn’t but he hoped he’d get more moments like these with you. With you and his daughter. He wondered if you really would help her swim or if you’d like to go with them to the duck park. Or would he only see you at work or at events with all your friends.

In case the latter came to pass, he decided to soak up every moment of this day that you’d give him. Even when dusk clung to your windowsill, when he noticed Remi rubbing her eyebrows (the telltale sign she was fighting sleep), Eijiro still didn’t want to leave.

Remi asked you to read her a story and you agreed in an instant. Eijiro should have called it a night. He knew darn well when his daughter snuggled in against you she was tuckered out but he let your voice fill the room with tales from the children’s book. His heart clenching when you dramatically read a line or squeezed Remi close at a particularly cute part.

Her inky black hair spilled over your shoulder, eyelids so heavy that they closed before you got to the end of the story so when your words trailed off, he stood from the chair knowing it was time.

“I-I don’t mind.”

“What?”

“I mean, I don’t mind, if you don’t.”

There was technically no reason for him to stay. He should have packed up Remi’s things and taken her home but she looked so damn peaceful snuggled up against you and it flooded his chest with adoration. She’d been so guarded since her mother left, careful not to let anyone that she didn’t already know into her life. And yet, here you were. Your fingers absentmindedly trailing up and down her arm and so Eijiro sat back down.

He felt lighter somehow, as if that was even possible. But, his shoulders dropped and he swore he could even breathe a little easier too. For a moment, surrounded by only the chirps and beeps of machinery, Eijiro let his eyes close too.

“Thank you,” He cracked open an eye when he heard the two little words from you, “‘M not sure if you usually visit people when they’re in the hospital but you’ve made being here a lot easier.”

“Well, I do tend to visit the children’s wing when I can and I’ve been the big jolly guy at a couple hospital holiday fundraisers if you catch my drift but, no, I don’t usually make a habit of hanging out for several days.”

He thought for a moment, trying to find the right way to say, “I was kicking myself for not getting your name that day in the park.” But the words were just tumbling from his mouth, “And then you were at the crash, and you know my friends, you’re related to one of them, and my kid, hell, she’s crazy about ya.”

He finally took a breath and realizing he couldn’t take it back now so, “I don’t make a habit of hanging out in hospitals but I hoped I’d get the chance to get to know you.”

“I expected you to stop showing up.” You admitted with a sheepish smile. “I wouldn’t have blamed you, obviously! Guess I’m just a little surprised you kept coming back.”

“What can I say, I like you, Y/N.”

“I like you too, Kirishima.”

Four days in the hospital felt like a lifetime.

Four days and your life had changed in ways you couldn’t have planned for and that you certainly hadn’t expected.

Tamaki had shown up bright and early to the hospital, fully prepared to spend the entire day with you and help you get situated into your new home which was good since you didn't get released from the hospital until the early evening.

You insisted he really didn’t need to help, you didn’t have many belongings, but he reminded you that you just had extensive surgery, not to mention with the lack of daily quirk healing injections, you were likely to start feeling some pain.

There was paperwork to be signed and then you were on your way to the hotel you’d been calling home. Tamaki helped gather up the few clothes you put into the dresser while you packed up your toiletries and within a half hour he had your suitcase in hand and your duffle slung across his chest.

“So, Midoriya’s apartment is about five blocks from our agency,” He told you on the cab ride, “And you’re in a really good location too. Lots of good food but the building itself is really secure and quiet. Midoriya spent a lot of time picking this place out.”

You pulled up to the high-rise and the green-haired hero was waiting for you. He pulled you into a careful hug. “I’m sorry I didn’t visit you more! Work has just been kinda busy.”

“Don’t worry about it. I had good company. Someone’s gotta be out here saving the world, right.”

He nodded and held open the door for you and your cousin. “I’ve already explained to the doorman, the head of staff, and the head of security that you will be staying at my place. There is a heated rooftop pool you can access and a gym, any time of day.” He pointed out the area in question enclosed in all glass windows.

Izuku handed you a sleek black card. “This gives you access to both those areas and the elevator. I can also set it up to access the apartment but I preferred using the thumbprint feature Melissa created.”

There was no possible way he could hide his beaming look when he talked about his fiancé's inventions, explaining to you that he’d scan your thumbprint with his phone and would give you access, Tamaki's too, just in case you needed anything.

“Go on, try it out.” You pressed the digit against the matte black pad just above the door and, sure enough, there was a little click and the door opened for you. “There is a place for a key though, just behind that pad, if you ever need it. Other than that, welcome home!” He held his arms out in a grand gesture. “I stocked the fridge and got you some of the essentials since I wasn’t sure what you had with you. Feel free to rearrange things or decorate however you like! The master bed and bathroom is down that hall,” he pointed off to his left, “and down this way is a guest room, office, and half bath.”

“Oh! And speaking of guests,” He continued on, “they don’t have to sign in or anything but they do need an access code for the elevator or they’ll have to go to the front desk. Someone will call you then and verify they’re allowed up. Security measures and all that.”

You were trying so hard to take in everything he was saying but really you were a little stunned with the place you’d now be calling home. It was top of the line, state of the art, in fact. All modern with sleek edges and crisp design. You’d made decent money as a Pro in America but you certainly didn’t make enough to afford a place like this.

“And, if you need anything right away, Kacchan and Kyoka live just above you, I wrote their unit number and the elevator code on the fridge for you.”

“Izuku, I really cannot thank you enough-“

He held up a hand. “There’s no need to thank me. You’re our friend Y/N, we just want to help take care of you, okay?”

You nodded and accepted the help. “I also wrote down a few restaurants that you might like to try, but, made sure to grab a few of those cup-o-noddles you like so much too. They’re in the pantry.”

Damn, you nearly forgot how you used to live off those things. “Are you hungry? We could all go out for a bite?” Tamaki asked but you shook your head.

“Thanks but, I think I’d like to just get settled in.”

Both men were more than happy to respect your decision. You tried to give thanks to Izuku again but he just repeated how none was necessary.

Tamaki though, he lingered after Izuku had said he’d see you on Monday and took his leave.

“I’ll be alright, Tam, I promise.”

“You’ll call if you need anything at all, right?”

“Of course.”

“Or Bakugo if it’s urgent.”

“I will, Tamaki. Ya know, I did use to be a pro like you.”

He looked to the ground. “Yeah, I know. I’ll always worry about you though.”

You wound your arms around his middle and felt him rest his chin atop your head. “If you keep worrying, this pretty hair of yours is gonna start turning grey.”

“It already has. Kirishima dyes it for me.”

You chuckled at the thought of the two men up to their elbows in indigo dye but, “Why Kirishima?” You asked, “Why not have Mirio do it?”

“Because Mirio hasn’t dyed hair before. I know I could ask him and he’d do it for me but Kirishima’s been dying his hair for over a decade now.”

“Really?”

It was almost impossible for you to imagine the man with anything other than the bright red hair and you’d just assumed that Remi got her ebony locks from her mother but, now you were wondering if it was from Kirishima… what he’d look like with that same dark hair…

“Alright. If you promise me you’ll reach out if you need anything,”

“I promise.”

“Then I’ll get out of your hair.”

With him gone, for the first time in five days, you were alone. No friends, no family, no doctors or nurses. Just you.

With the lights off, you laid in your new king-sized bed with the comforter hiked up to your chin. It was after midnight, by all accounts you should be dead tired, however, you were currently the opposite.

Of course, you spent ample time going over your new apartment. Learning where things were kept, trying out the amazing rainfall shower, opting to save the jacuzzi tub for another day. But, after a cup of those noodles Izuku had been so gracious to stock up on for you, you were finally feeling a little sleepy and thought to take full advantage.

The problem was, you were now under the covers with you were wide awake.

The new job was lingering just around the corner, it wasn’t that you were scared exactly. You worked as a pro hero for nearly seven years, were a sidekick before that, and an intern before that! By all accounts, the job should be fairly easy for you to acclimate to.

Still, you didn’t know everyone. The personalities, the way they liked things handled, there was still so much to learn, and damn you really would hate disappointing people who were being so very kind.

Gods, how did people like their coffee? Who all liked coffee? Were you responsible for coffee? Why did you suddenly care about fucking coffee so much!

You shoved a pillow over your face to muffle your groan and almost didn’t hear the trill of your phone.

Kirishima’s name popped up with a new text message and despite everything, you were subconsciously grinning.

Kirishima: I really hope you were able to get to sleep alright. I know you said you have trouble being at new places though, so, if ya can’t, you could call me again. Just wanted you to know that.

He’d called you for the last two nights, even yesterday when he got home, after he put Remi to bed, the man still called you. Of course, he asked if he could first, he was respectful in that way… and in many others.

You kept thinking about what Tamaki had said before Kirishima and Remi arrived the other day, “If you were gonna be saved by someone other than Mirio or I, I’m happy it was Kirishima, he’s a really good guy.” And everything the redhead had done only further supported your cousin's claim.

You: If we keep talking every night, pretty soon it’ll become a habit.

A couple of minutes passed and this time, your phone was ringing with another FaceTime call that you promptly answered.

“Not all habits are bad, ya know?” His voice was cheery despite being quiet, “Making a habit to drink 8 glasses of water a day, that’s a good habit to have.” There wasn’t much light in your room but you wondered if there was enough that he saw your eyes rolling as you laughed.

His screen was almost pitch black, you could only see the parts of his face illuminated by the light of his own phone, his cheeks especially when he smiled for you.

“You look like you’re in bed. Probably means you should get some sleep.”

You could see him shake his head against his pillow. “‘M fine. If I wanted to sleep, I wouldn’t have offered to talk.” He rolled and set his phone against a glass of water, muttering a prayer that it wouldn’t fall over. “I would just go out to my living room but Kaminari is currently splayed out across my sofa. Have you met him yet?”

“Nope.”

“He’s a good guy, a bit of a wildcard, but good all the same.”

“Does he work at the agency?” You asked, fluffing a pillow and positioning your phone against it.

“He does! Yeah! Actually, most of our graduating hero class works there, and others too but, we kinda founded it all together.”

“H-how many people were in your class?”

“Twenty of us in each but only a handful from B class joined.”

Your mouth ran dry. An executive assistant for at least twenty different people?

“Hey,” He squinted into the phone, “I can’t see ya all that well but you look worried. Has the idea of work been bugging you? That what’s keeping you awake?”

“What? Do you have a secondary mind-reading quirk I don’t know about?”

His white teeth flashed with a smile, “No, nothing like that. I’ve just gotten good at reading people. If I knew what was in that head of yours, I wouldn’t have to ask.” When you only gave him a half-hearted smile in response though, he asked again, “Is it?”

“All those people… it’s just a little daunting.”

You heard him stifle a laugh. “What!”

“You’re not responsible for all of us, you goof!” He apologized for laughing, “I figured Bakugo or Midoriya explained this to you: We have about forty five pros working at Alliance right now and just as many sidekicks but we’re all broken up into little teams, squads and stuff. The squad you’re working with is made up of Bakugo and Ashido, who you’ve already met, and there’s also Kaminari and Sero, oh, and myself. And we have three sidekicks who also work with us.”

So, 8 people, that was a little better than what you were thinking.

“Why don’t I take you by the agency tomorrow so you can check the place out before your official first day? I’m not goin’ back until Monday anyways!”

“You’d do that?”

“Yeah!” He sealed his lips shut for a second, obviously listening to make sure he hadn’t woken up his daughter but his enthusiasm had warmth blooming across your cheeks. “Yes, I’d be happy to give you a tour and introduce you around. I just gotta make sure my mom can watch Remi. I try to keep her out of the public eye as much as I can. But, she usually has no problem. I can pick ya up at noon?”

“That sounds great.”

A silence fell between you and your eyes started to feel heavy. “Want me to stay on the phone until ya fall asleep?”

“Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

“Thanks, Kirishima. When I start snoring you can hang up.”

His rumbling laugh made your stomach flutter. “Alright, you’ve got a deal.”

Except, Kirishima must have fallen asleep around the same time, once again, the call hadn’t ended and you were awoken by Remi catapulting herself onto her father’s chest. “Daddy! Good morning! I would like pancake please, I help put in chocolate chip… Daddy.”

His voice was thick and he had one arm slung over his eyes, “Yes, baby girl?”

“You had another sleepover with Ms. Y/N. Not fair! Next time we all have sleepover together! I cannot believe you...”

It was far too early to be laughing as hard as you were but, you really didn't care.

#kirishima x y/n #kirishima fanfic #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #Red Daddy Riot #only literally #kirishima x reader #kirishima #eijiro kirishima #dad!kiri

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 years

Note

Would you be up for doing the character bingo with the staff, and if so could you do Trein?

Any TWST character is fair game!

***Standard disclaimer: These are just my personal opinions of the character(s); regardless of what I may think of them, sharing my thoughts is NOT meant to offend or to shame anyone that thinks differently.***

Here’s my hot take: Trein gets overlooked just because he isn’t young 😅 ... Too soon? Those are my honest feelings on the matter. I’m pretty sure the most popular of the staff are probably Crowley (because of the ample screen time relative to the rest of the cast), Crewel, and Sam (because the latter two are young and conventionally attractive). (Vargas gets the short end of the stick because his muscular body type appeals to only a certain subset of fans.)

In the early days of TWST, I distinctly recall seeing people who were outright disgusted by Trein because of his age, which... never really made sense to me????? A school wouldn’t hire ALL young teachers, so of course there would be diversity among the demographics of the staff. And like???? Wouldn’t you WANT more experienced teachers at such a prestigious magic academy? Or to see more variety in the cast anyway? 😔 I remember seeing some edits of young Trein around the time of his reveal... and while those edits were fun and must have no doubt taken a lot of time and effort, some of the comments attached to those edits had a tone which implied that the young Trein edits were somehow “fixing” him, or that the original was “inferior”. That just rubs me the wrong way 💦 It’s not even like age is something gross or something to be ashamed of, we’re all going to get to be Trein’s age eventually. Thankfully, I think that a lot of that initial disgust has died down now that the game has been out for a while.

Personally, I’ve always liked Trein. It’s not in the same as me liking uh... say, J word, but I do find him endearing in the way that someone might find a grandparent endearing. (Ortho even says he’d like a grandpa like him, so I’m not the only one!) Yes, Trein certainly looks stern and like he’s a no-nonsense type of guy, but you can also tell that he is competent at his job and deserves respect. We usually see him being stern to his students, but Trein also has his moments of softness. When he fusses over Lucius? Or when he’s worrying for the safety of his students? It’s kind of cute, and it has all the warmth and the good intention behind it as any parent would for their children--and Trein IS a father, so he would know.

I actually would love to learn more about his family? Like his late wife and his two daughters (Trein says they’ve grown up and left the nest now). It sounds like he cares a lot for them and misses them... but at least Lucius is keeping him company! Speaking of Lucius???? He’s Trein’s familiar, which I think is a really fascinating concept that we don’t hear enough about. How do familiars work in TWST? It doesn’t seem to be a mandatory thing, since we never seen any of the NRC students walking around with a familiar; can ANY creature you find be a familiar, so long as you perform the proper steps to bond it to you? Does the familiar contract grant any sort of special powers to either party? Is there only one familiar allowed per person? What if that familiar dies, are you allowed to forge a new contract????? I have many questions and I demand just as many answers 💞

I also wonder if we’ll ever get the staff’s unique magic reveals? I’ve seen some people speculating that Trein or Crowley could have one related to time (a reference to Cinderella III: A Twist in Time and the TWST time loop theory, respectively), but I think time magic might be a little too... OP? Or that it would have to be considerably nerfed to “work”. Malleus was able to temporarily stop time, but I believe it was stated even he needed additional help to do it within just the gates of NRC.

#Mozus Trein #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #notes from the writing raven #spoilers #ask game #character opinion bingo

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jiminzfilter · 3 years

Text

slow dancing in the night

→ Pairing. Taehyung x reader

→ Genre. established relationship, fluff, slice of life, model!taehyung, model!reader, taehyung missed you a lot, he is starving (his words not mine), gets a bit hot by the last 40 lines, mentions of oral (f) so I guess this counts as mature content, implied smut, making out (kinda), there is a bit of swearing

→ Summary. what could possibly be better than coming home after a long day of work to someone you love and missed a lot ?

→ Word count. 3.2k (!!!)

→ because I wrote this over a year ago when I still didn't know what I was doing with my writing, I had to go through a deep process of editing and re-writing before posting it. This might not be my best work but it's still a fic that I really really like :,)

→ song rec. slow dancing in the dark, Joji// still with you, Jungkook

Fridays have always been exhausting days for both you and your boyfriend, especially on runways weeks. As models, you were put under a lot of pressure.

Pressure to be perfect, to smile but never smile too much, to look good, to not fall on stage.

Falling has to be the most tragic thing that can happen to your carreer as a model, the hungry stares of thousands of photographers and reporters ready to share the latest news to the press.

Yeah, it was exhausting.

This week was no exception... or maybe it was since, this time, you were the only one working until late.

It’s four in the morning and you’re already on your way out - kind of running late, oBviOusLy - quietly wishing your boyfriend a good day.

He is not working today.

That lucky bastard.

He gets to enjoy his free day in bed, lazing around, while you work your ass off all day. He mumbles something that you assume is a sort of goodbye. He is still asleep.

You look at him one last time before leaving the room and smile. He looks so peaceful.

You still remember the day you met, by pure luck even though you both call that fate. That was 5 years ago, when you just debuted your career as a model and were not that comfortable around high heels.

Okay no. Let’s be real.

You hated wearing them because you couldn’t walk in heels higher than 5 cm.

It’s still a wonder how you managed to make it in the first place.

Were you wearing flat shoes for the audition ? Damn you really must’ve done an impression on the judges if they made you pass without the heels try-on.

Your first day at the agency was chaotic to say the least. Your manager made you walk around the building, to visit she said. She made you wear heels. HEELS. That devilish person.

But, thank to that, you got to meet Taehyung. Your eyes landed on him as you were visiting the lounge and couldn’t tear them away from his figure. The poor man had to witness you fall down because you weren’t watching your steps anymore.

I mean.

Who could blame you ??

That was Kim frEaking Taehyung

!!!

He even came to help you get back on your feet and asked if you were alright, kind of amused.

It’s not everyday you see someone falling down in here, let alone a newbie

Let’s be honest, you were so embarrassed.

First day of work and you’re already failing falling.

That night when you came home, you spent the night wearing heels and prayed really hard you’d never have to face him again. After all, the building was big enough and there were enough workers that you could avoid Taehyung easily

If only

The NeXt day, you were told that you had a couple shooting, with none other that Kim Taehyung.

GreaT

He would occasionally tease you about your fall and check on you to see if everything was alright. He watched you carefully as you were walking around with heels.

From up close he looked even more handsome.... :)

After this day, you started talking with Taehyung more and more. He introduced you to everyone around the agency. You met outside of work, got to know each other. You both became regally good friends but there was something lingering in the air, in the way you’d look at each other or stood so close to him after a couple glasses of wine that you could breathe his air.

So what was bound to happen happened and you went from friends a to lovers without really noticing it.

He was still your best friend...somehow

Eventually, you took things to the next level and moved in together... maybe a half and a year ago or so ? You’ve never been happier in your life

And, well, you’d actually be happier if you could spend the day with boyfriend instead of running around trying to find god knows which accessories you need for the rehearsal.

8 in the morning is noT a time to be doing cardio.

Especially while wearing heels

Become a model they said, it’ll be fun they said

“Y/n! Come here please I need you to try on this dress before you go!” Your personal stylist calls “I made sure to fix it yesterday so it’d be a perfect fit for the show”

You stop your tracks and go to her “make this quick i have to go get changed before 9 otherwise I’m screwed. Why did they even decide to do the rehearsals so early today ?” You sigh, frustrated, and put on the dress she’s handing you “thank you”

“Okayyy...it looks great. Gold looks amazing on you.” She smoothes the dress and gives an approving nod, visibly satisfied ; “You’ll look perfect for the Grand Finale. Oh god it’s already 8:30 you better go before Mr.Kim throws a fit because you’re late”

You both giggle ; “thank you for fixing the dress Naeun, see you later today. Well, probably tonight. Byeeee”

The rehearsal seems to never end. You’re squeezed in dozens of different outfits, gorgeous for sure but sO tight. Mr. Kim, the one who organised the runway, is such a perfectionist that you have to re-do some things multiple times before he’s satisfied. One time the lighting isn’t right, the other the models are walking too fast, not on beat and so on.

Everyone hates him for that but he always makes the best shows so you just follow.

After multiple tries, the rehearsal finally comes to an end. It’s already 4PM. You barely get time to breathe and go pee before you’re back into the ‘running-around-to-find-my-dress-and-fix-my-makeup-oh-god-i-gotta-be-on-stage’ crazy mess.

Walking on the runway feels amazing, running backstage is terrible.

It’s so hot and small back there you can hardly move around well.

It takes 2 hours for the whole fashion show to be over, one more for pictures outside the catwalk and chat with reporters. Since you’re kind of a famous model now, you get invited to the afterparty and spend few extra hours interacting with some celebrities that attended the show. Other models were invited and you’re happy to see familiar faces amongst them. Jimin, an old colleague and friend of yours, comes your way and compliments you. You chat with him for a while before deciding you’ve had enough for the day and leave the party. A few more people greet you on your way out.

A taxi takes you back to you company, where you left your stuff in the morning. You spend an extra thirty minutes getting rid of your heavy makeup and striping off that gorgeous but awfully tight golden dress you’ve been wearing ever since the end of the runway.

Now, you can FinaLLy go home. yassssss

It’s almost 12am when you leave the agency and climb into yet another taxi. The ride is quiet, background music playing over the car’s radio, and you take some time to look at what you were gifted for your performance : fancy makeup products, accessories, pieces of clothing-but not those from the runway, you sadly never get to keep those. Being kinda famous has its perks :,)

You then decide it’s time to warn Taehyung you’ll arrive soon and send him a few texts. As if he was waiting for them, he instantly replies saying he’ll be waiting for you and proceeds to spam you with heart emojis. Sometimes, it looks like this man just discovered what emojis were and is trying to use them as much as possible. What a child…

It’s way past midnight when you finally step into your duplex and the first thing you notice is that the place is way too quiet.

Maybe Tae went back to sleep, who knows, it’s super late after all…

You remove shoes and jacket and drop your bags in the entrance before going further and you call out quietly “anyone here? Tae, you sleeping?”

There is a faint glow from the tv on your right but the sound has been muted.

Weird…

“Taehyung ?" You call one last time

Suddenly, two strong arms wrap themselves around your waist and you’re pulled into someone’s chest. You gasp, almost scream, but soften up when you feel the warmth on your back

“Hi baby” a deep voice says in your ear, sending chills down your spine “I missed you”

You turn around and are very pleased to see a handsome face and a warm exposed chest your boyfriend smiling at you.

“Mhm, missed you too” You wrap your arms around him and rest your head against his chest, happy to hear his heartbeat. Taehyung places his head atop of yours and gently strokes your hair. You tighten your grasp around him and hum.

Few seconds later, he lifts your chin up and gently lays a kiss on your lips.

“How are you doing?” He asks, his right hand cupping your cheek. The warmth of it is comforting.

“Exhausted, but you know how it goes” You shrug and he smiles

“Not too tired for dinner ? I could cook something if you want”

“Mhm... let me just go shower and put something else on” You sadly let go of him

“Sure, go ahead” he whispers and you give him a kiss before regretfully tearing yourself away from him.

You walk up the stairs to your bedroom, where you find the bed undone. You smile, Taehyung never really liked making the bed and, very honestly, neither did you. You slump onto the mattress and bury your face into the pillows, inhaling his scent. Lavender. Relaxing. Just like he is.

After a warm shower, you find a t-shirt Taehyung left on a chair in the room and wear it. It’s big enough to reach your thighs and, if you were more energised, you’d probably stay like this. You grab large pants and put them on.

Once again, you smell lavender all around you.

When you’re back in the living area, you see Taehyung busying himself in the kitchen. He hears your steps and his eyes find yours as a smile appears on his face when he notices that you’re wearing his shirt

“My shirt looks better on you than it’d ever do on me” He teases, his gaze longing on your frame.

“maybe I should keep it then” you smile and ask ; ”Do you need any help?”

“no no no no no, you’ve worked enough already. Go and have some rest. I'll call you when everything’s ready okay?”

Too tired to argue on this anyways -and thankful for the given rest-, you go lay down on the couch, your body oriented to let you look at Taehyung.

As he hums and moves to the chill music that was playing in the background, you start to detail his beautiful figure. From the curl of his dark hair (which you knoW are so so soft to the touch) to his beautiful profile and his nose you love so much down to his broad shoulder and then his tanned abs you see from time to time when the opened shirt of his pyjama moves according to his steps.

oH! Let’s not forget his perfect hands gripping at the pan’s handle while he cooks… vegetables? Something like that yeah.

Taehyung is giving his best into what he’s cooking. Vegetables with rice, that’s the only thing he could do quickly.

Quickly as in less than half an hour, unlike his friend Namjoon who’d take this time just to cook the rice.

The music he put earlier is slowly starting to bore him. After washing his hands, he reaches out for his phone and plays a different playlist. It’s one you name yourself when the two of you were still friends (aka not dating yet). “Taetae fm” because you once joked he should have his own broadcasting channel on the radio. He’d always criticise the music playing so why not have his own channel 👀

“You know Y/n, I actually watched the fashion show live this afternoon. I mean, of course you know because I always do that haha. Anyways, you really were the highlight of the runway tonight. And I’m not saying this in a biased point of view. Okay I might be a bit biased as your boyfriend but I swear that it’s true!! You literally shone back there, especially in that gold dress you were wearing and even the audience was impressed by your looks maybe you didn’t see it on stage but some cameras filmed their reactions and everyone was looking at you. Really, you were so gorge-oh” Taehyung looks at you and smile fondly “Of course you’re asleep, baby”

He lets his phone aside and checks the now cooked food before making his way to the couch. There’s a blanket on the sofa, he covers you with it, scared you might get cold. Taehyung put a loose strand of hair behind your ear and places a kiss on your chin.

You slowly open your eyes and find yourself face to face with him. You both smile.

“Hi there beautiful” He whispers

“what time is it? Did I sleep until the morning?” You’re scared of having slept through the entire nap without realising

“almost 1:20am, I just finished cooking. I thought you might be cold so I went to cover you with the blanket. You should go enjoy the food while it’s still hot, imma go to the toilet”

You nod as an answer and watch him leave upstairs. Getting up from the warmth of the couch is the hardest part so you keep the soft blanket draped around your shoulders and walk towards the kitchen. You grab two bowls and two pairs of chopsticks that you place on the counter along with glasses and a bottle of water.

You then go take care of the rice and the vegetables, which you mix in the pan. The song playing changes and your favourite nighttime tune starts.

“I don’t want a friend, I want my life in two” you sing along

“Waiting to get there, waiting for you” Taehyung’s voice startles you as he grabs your wrists and pulls your back close to him. You smile as he makes the both of you dance slowly. You put his arms around you so it’s like he’s hugging you from the back. You swing around for a little while, enjoying the close proximity as you both softly hum the song, making your body vibrate against each other, moving in perfect coordination.

“I love you” he whispers in your ear and then kisses it, sending chills down your spine, before lifting one of your arm up to make you turn so that you’re now facing him “did my baby sleep well?” You nod as you place your arms around his waist, paying attention to go under the shirt so you’re touching as much skin as possible.

Taehyung chuckles before asking you in that same, chill-sending, low deep voice ; “Still hungry? Because I’m starving”

If you didn’t just wake up, you would’ve definitely caught that lust in his eyes and also the fact that this wasn’t as innocent as it seemed.

As an answer, your stomach growls pretty loudly, making Taehyung laugh . “I’ll take that as a yes. Sit down, princess. Let me take care of you”

You do as he says, jumping on a stool, detailing all of his moves. You only realise how hungry you actually were when you start eating. Rice with vegetables has never tastes better. You eat everything in less than 5 minutes when you’d usually take your time to finish your plate.

“Damn, that was a well needed dinner! Thank you Tae” you mess a bit with his soft locks

“Imagine me who was waiting for you all evening!! I was hungry too” He pouts.

“Oh come on, I was working today. Cardio in heels isn’t the best way to wake up, let alone spend the whole day standing in tight clothes. When I think you has a day off… pfff. I saw the bed, I’m sure you stayed there all day, you lazyyyyyyyyy ass.”

He mumbles some gibberish and you giggle, knowing that you're right. He looks away, crossing his arms and obviously sulking. You leave your stool and stand behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You leave a few kisses on his cheek and neck

“- Don’t be such a babyy. You know I love you.

- You do?

- of course, you dummy” you bop his nose "Sooo, what do we have for desert?

- You. Uh I mean!! Yoghurt, fruits, cakes, fruits…anything” he clears his throat

“Great! What do you prefer?” You open the fridge

“ I’d very happily eat you out honestly but an apple sounds good”

“Oh sur- wait whaT!?” You snap your head to him, eyes wide open

what did he sayyyyyyyy?????

whaT am I even supposed to say noW oh my goddddd

You close the fridge’s door, suddenly not so yogurt-hungry.

There’s a sudden silence between the two of you, only disturbed by the music still playing in the background.

“Mhm? What is it?” He turns around to face you, asking so innocently “did I say something wrong ?”

This man knows what he is doing for sure. Has he ever been that straightforward before ?

Taehyung stands and closes the distance between your bodies, now towering over you.

He lowers himself slightly to speak in your ear “what is it baby? Mhm?” You feel his smile on your cheek when he lays a kiss on it “what happened to my all proud and fierce y/n who was so confident telling me I was being lazy all day, huh? Tell me” He lays another kiss on your temple

OkaY

now he’s being a tease

Great

1 A.M. fluffy and bare chested teaser Taehyung

gReAT

Anyhow, it’s a good turn on.

Really.good.freaking.turn.on

Being tired and turned on was definitely not a good mix for you. You could feel the heat rising in your body and hear your heart pounding in your ears.

“Tae…”

He laughs gently seeing you silently begging for more, brushing your face with his lips, teasing another kiss.

“Tsk tsk, you gotta speak darling, I cannot guess”

You should calm down and go to sleep, it’s 1am and you have work tomorrow you should definitely-

“Fuck-“ You sigh and grab his face, sealing your lips together while closing your eyes.

It doesn’t take long for that kiss to turn into a heated make out session.

You grab and pull some of his dark curls while his hands travels under his your shirt.

You break the kiss just a second to catch your breath.

“Have i ever told you you have the perfect body?” Taehyung asks

“Did I ever tell you how perfect you are??” You reply

He laughs, deep raspy laugh.

You’re too tired for this

And because you’re tired, you’re even more horny :D

Taehyung puts his hands behind your thighs and you jump, locking your legs around his waist, hands still in his hair, lips against his while carries you to the bedroom.

He leaves your lips to travel down your jaw and then collarbone. You throw your head back.

Taehyung gently lays you on the mattress of your king sized bed and makes it his personal mission to pleasure you tonight.

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