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dees-07 · 1 year ago

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Dead or alive? - James potter (no romantic interest)

Genre: angst, fluffy and sad all together

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings: swearing

Summary: James potter hadn’t died that dreadful night, he had been kidnapped not a single trace left behind. This is his story.

Authors note: this is my first time posting on tumblr bear with me I know I’m bad also this is a really old story, there’s only 3 written chapters and will remain unfinished for a while, I get lots of writers block and procrastinate my rarely available time because I have lovely ADHD. Thank you guys

Chapter 1:

31st of October 1981 was the most horrible and tragic day of James Potters short lived life. Lily, the love of his life/newly wedded wife and Harry, his beautiful little boy, the other love of his love, had been murdered by Lord Voldemort right in front of his very own eyes. That day had passed 20 times before in his life time, normally a day filled with laughter, pranking, treats and an overall sense of belonging. Not anymore.

Every time he'd think of that day from then on he'd breakdown. He felt like he should've been the one to die not Lily or Harry. They had so much to live for and he’d do anything to go back and change the nights outcome. But he couldn’t, that night dark magic was used, magic that in his weak state James hadn’t been able to break.

James was unable to move, feet spelled stuck to the ground and his body frozen still. He was unable to help who he loved the most. Lord Voldemort standing over Lily with a grin as wide as a young child who doesn’t understand the concept of remorse, will forever be ingrained in his mind no matter how hard James may try to forget. Just because he was not in the same room didn't mean for some strange reason it looked as if it unfolded right in front of his helpless body.

He was taken away that night and put in a small and empty basement in presumably a muggle town house never to be seen again. It had no windows and the only light in there was from up the stairs in the actual house, where the death eaters guarded the basement door making sure he didn't try and escape.

The walls were cold and uninviting, bricks placed together with no care making James often wonder how this house was still standing. It was obviously old by the creaking and groaning it would make when the death eaters walked around upstairs.

Every speck of energy stored in James' body had been ripped from him over time, he felt tired and depressed every second of the day, or night. He didn't know anymore.

At first he had tried escaping but the consequences were too painful that he thought no point in trying. The death eaters may as well all go home, no doubt if he tried leaving he wouldn't be able to climb up the stairs, his body too weak.

James heard footsteps and muffled talking. Another shift change and by the sounds of it this was the one who hated James with every morsel of his body. He scoffed thinking no doubt it was Lucius Malfoy. James and the other marauders may have pulled many pranks on Malfoy in the years he was there and it was clear to any innocent passerby that Lucius did not appreciate their existence. At all. He would've loved James to be killed that dreadful Halloween night.

A common misconception about James fleamont potter was that he didn't notice things, in fact he was a very observant person but he never showed it to anyone outside people he trusted his life with. His motto was always why be smart and have expectations placed upon you when you can act stupid and always be underestimated.

As time went by James became more and more numb. He had a routine of waking up when the basement door was thrown open the wood shaking, the death eaters threw him whatever they decided he was worthy enough to have. It was generally moldy bread and maybe if he had been quiet and obedient he would get given fresh bread or a bowl of soup but it was a rarity.

If James wasn't awake by the time they got down there he would be punished. Usually by dark magic especially Crucio. His body would hurt for days upon end, but there was nothing he could do about it. He had two options, either listen to the death eaters demands and survive, or refuse and get tortured, not to death though, because what's the fun in killing him if he won't be able to feel the pain they thrive to give.

Sometimes James would want to die but he knew Lily wouldn't want him to, she'd want him to live the best life he could even if she wasn't with him to do so. That was the only thing that kept him going each and every day.

James goes in and out of regular flashbacks, he fears he has ptsd as certain noises or words from upstairs trigger him and send him spiralling. With Malfoy present, James had spun into Hogwarts flashbacks which switch up between good and bad.

His wand had been snatched from him and hidden after he was captured. James wished and hoped that it hadn't been broken, it was at Ollivanders when he was getting his wand that he'd first met Sirius Black.

He'd just gotten his wand and was walking out of the shop, when in his excited rush he had bumped into someone.

Turning to apologise to the poor person his words caught in his throat realising who it was. Walburga Black. She sneered down at him and he quickly apologised walking away. As he left he locked eyes with a boy who looked really familiar. He was sure that they had met and the boy did look to be his age. He gave James a pitied look before following the woman.

They didn't know it yet but the two boys had just met their platonic soulmate.

They hadn't become friends until the train to Hogwarts but James inquired over the holidays to his parents about the Black family and who they followed and stood for. He could tell Sirius was different, from the way he'd completely avoid speaking about his families views, he'd always tense up when you mentioned his parents and he would try and change the subject to something that made him smile, like quidditch or his brother.

He used to flinch when you would make sudden movements or make physical contact without warning. James learned that the hard way when he went to put his arm around sirius' shoulders, and subsequently got punched in the nose. Safe to say James didn't try that again for a while.

After months of chipping down Sirius' walls he let James in and they went from best friends to brothers. Not by blood but by choice. They were inseparable and you wouldn't see one without the other. It was like they'd never lived before they met.

Sirius was roughly the same height as James maybe a bit smaller on a bad day. He had jet black curly hair cut to above his ears, although through the years he let it grow to shoulder length. He always stood up straight with the correct posture and would only talk when spoken to at first, obviously drilled into him from a young age by his horrible parents. Eventually he got over the quiet spoken boy and would never shut up no matter how hard you tried to stop him. He however never let go of the posture thing, a subconscious habit he couldn't rid himself of.

James knew this was because of how Sirius was raised. In a strict pureblood family Sirius was the heir of the noble and ancient house of black so he was to do good in school and most important of all, get sorted into slytherin just like every other ancestor of his. It was nailed into his brain all throughout his childhood that slytherin was the only choice for him and any other house would not suffice.

The only time he would get a break would be around his younger brother regulus, or as Sirius called him, Reggie. They would play wizards chess for hours on end and build forts together in the attic while their parents had meetings upon meetings forgetting about their two children. The boys didn’t mind because it’s not like they were born from two loving parents, but instead to continue the deranged incest filled blood line.

They bonded over their love for the French language and their tutor was more like a mother than their own to them. She treated them like her own children and they loved her for that. They knew more about her than their own parents.

The time finally came when Sirius wasn't sorted into Slytherin and instead Gryffindor their biggest rival, Sirius was told to never speak to regulus ever again and that broke his heart more than being told he was a lousy disappointment who deserved nothing.

He rebelled against his parents and hated the holidays because he would have to leave the place he called home and return to the hell hole. Spending any longer that's a minute around them was pure torture, the only reason he was still at that house was because of Reggie. He couldn't just leave him alone like that.

One shitty day it became all too much and Sirius could not handle it anymore, he was going to breakdown if he was there any longer. He ran away that night after bawling to Reggie and apologising over and over. Regulus was quiet but crying too.

"Sirius I love you so much and I want you to stay but I know you cant, stay safe out there don't go getting yourself killed I won't be able to handle that, write to me under a different name. Now go before mother finds you I love you."

Regulus managed to say, bawling his eyes out but knowing it was for the best. The brothers shared a long tight hug with Sirius’ parting words being

“I love you more than you’ll ever know reg, stay safe please and know this is not your fault I just can not handle it any more, I love you so much little brother.”

He flew off on his broomstick into the dark and scary night. He became disowned at 16 when his mother found out he left and had his portrait burned off the family wall, becoming a part of the 'black sheep' crew along with cousin Andromeda and Uncle Alphard.

At first he was broken not knowing what to do but mostly worried for Reggie who was now going to have to take over the heir position in the family hierarchy. Sirius felt horrible for leaving but he couldn't stand being in that house any longer.

He went straight to the person who he trusted most when he was kicked out. Freezing cold and teary eyed he asked to stay with James. James didn't need to ask his parents if Sirius could live with the potters, because they'd both said he's always welcome no matter the circumstance. They were a more easy going pure blood family who as Sirius said had felt like was his real parents ever since he'd met Fleamont and Euphemia potter.

They gladly accepted him and he became their adopted son and James' brother. Euphemia was especially happy to be able to spoil someone else because James was slowly becoming more independent and would buy his own things. Sirius was grateful to finally get some attention and soaked it all up.

James met Peter Pettigrew on the boat in first year as they made their way to the great hall ready to be sorted. Peter was about the same height as James probably an inch or two shorter, his hair was a shade or two lighter and looked a lot more neat compared to James' shaggy looking mop of curls he called hair. You would think his hair would be neat and tidy considering his father created sleakeazys hair potion but no.

Peter was a half-blood, his mother was a witch and his father a muggle though he had never met him. For good reason too. He had grown up without a father, never did he contemplate what having one would be like.

Until he'd seen what James and Fleamont were like together. A joking and loving relationship that he envied. When he got to know Fleamont more on a closer level, he'd been taken under his wing and had been given the same love as James had grown up around.

Fleamont and Euphemia had a lot of love to give and the boys got the brunt of it. Not a single complaint from the marauders showed how much they appreciated it.

The potter parents always told the boys to balance their mischievous side and their studying sides. They wanted them to enjoy their schooling years but also for them to succeed in the careers they aspired to enter.

Peter especially excelled at charms and herbology. He found those subjects the easiest and was able to understand the work with not much effort. His weakest one was divination (but who is good at that one anyway) and he was fairly good at transfiguration.

He could've been a lot better but why do theory when you and your friends can flirt with professor mcgonagall, or Minnie as she had first hated them calling her, after a while she got used to it and stopped telling them off because she knew the nickname had stuck, it wasn't going anywhere.

When the boys were planning and doing the pranks Peter would be the one to set the intricate and detailed things in their places. He found enjoyment in being the mastermind in setting up the pranks and loved when they worked out exactly the way they were planned. He didn't like his precious ideas going to waste.

He was a highly intelligent boy and was often underestimated because he didn't flaunt his knowledge. He didn't pay attention in class much, choosing to chat with his friends more often than not. This didn't mean he was failing, quite the opposite actually. He was well above average in most subjects minus divination which he was at average for.

Peter and James hit it off as great friends instantly and had common interests in things like quidditch, although while James loved the thrill and excitement of playing, Peter knew all the stats of every team and you could ask him anything and he could answer, perks of having an idetic memory.

This made the art of pranking so much better and became another thing they had in common. Peter also liked chocolate frogs and liquorice wands but would always offer them to anyone else without a single hesitation.

He was a very generous person, but not many people saw that side of him because he was taught growing up to not trust easily, as his mother fell for that when she met his father, a muggle journalist. He had always had superstitions about magic being real and he had found out that she was a witch.

He had gotten her trust completely and then when she told him that she had magical abilities he had gone and written an article about it to the entirety of England and anyone else who'd listen to his dribble. Thank god the muggles thought he was crazy and he had since been obliviated rightfully.

Peters cared for his mother so much and would protect her for as long as he possibly could.

The first time James met Remus lupin was after the sorting ceremony, Sirius was sitting to his left and Remus was across him with Peter to his right. Peter and Remus had already met as they lived in the same neighbourhood and grew up together.

Pete introduced Remus to everyone else. The quiet boy was an inch or two taller then James and had light brown shaggy hair, nowhere near as messy as James' though.

He had a diagonal scar running across the top of his forehead across his nose and just to the corner of his mouth, James thought it was awesome and wished he could have a cool scar like that. Those were the first words other than hello that he had ever spoken to Remus. The response in return, a red face and quiet stuttered thank you.

Being a shy lanky kid Remus stood out and had terrible posture from constantly trying to hide how much taller he was then all the other kids. James was considered tall for his age but compared to Remus he was nothing but an ant.

Remus was excellent at all the subjects but he was especially good at defence of the dark arts, it was easy for him and he understood it very well, he'd always wanted to be a professor even after the incident his mind would not be altered from its dream career.

No matter how much his father told him he'd never become a professor and to change his ideas for a dream job it was not possible, he craved it more than he craved chocolate. And if you knew Remus you knew how obsessed he was with chocolate.

If you ever needed any you could ask him politely and he might give you a piece or two if you were special. He never went anywhere without it.

Born to a pureblood father and muggleborn mother remus was a halfblood wizard. An incident occurred when he was 5 where he was bitten by a menace werewolf, named Fenrir Greyback as payback from his father Lyall disagreeing with something to do with werewolves.

From then on Lyall lupin despised his son and thought he would never succeed in life with a disease like lycanthropy. He looked at little Remus like his mere existence was a burden in his life.

Hope lupin believed her son could do anything he wanted and told him regularly but would never say that in front of Lyall, she was too afraid of him, she wanted her little boy to be safe and if it meant keeping her thoughts to herself she'd never speak again. Anything for her precious little wolf.

He had a love for reading which he got from his mother and he'd immerse himself in the worlds of each book as he read, if the others didn't make him go to class or go and prank others he'd sit there and read forever.

He loved making sarcastic comments just loud enough so the other boys could hear but no one else. Remus liked wearing baggy jumpers that would have extra long sleeves to hang over his hands and he loved chocolate bars and sugar quills. He was the best at not getting caught pranking and on the off occasion that something did go wrong he was able to just blame it on the boys and the professors woulds believe his word over theirs any day.

The whole innocent boy thing he had going on meant many of the Hogwarts students had crushes on Remus even if he denied, because why would anyone like his ugly scarred body. It took him a long time and many arguments to get used to the fact that his scars were beautiful and they made him his own special person.

James himself was also good at all subjects but went that little bit further in skill in transfiguration. He was easily able to transfigure things and had even gotten a newts test from his fathers office desk and correctly answered all the questions when he was only 7. It just came to him and both his parents knew right then and there he'd be an amazing and powerful wizard while keeping his troublemaker antics they'd watched him grow up using.

He excelled at all subjects but like Pete, didn't flaunt them. Yes he loved attention but to brag about his grades was just stupid when he could be doing many other things instead.

The marauders as they called themselves were a very sought after group looks wise, people either wanted to be with them or be them.

James and Sirius were the most laidback people yet they would soak up every speck of attention shoved their way, almost contradicting their laidback style they said they had. Peter and Remus on the other hand didn't like being in the spotlight too much and happily let the other two boys take the stage.

It took a while but finally one of the four had gotten into a relationship. A party in the gryffindor common room was thrown and no one was allowed out until they were smashed off their face, no point partying if you're not gonna get drunk am I right?

Peter had casual flings for a while before he had gotten a crush. He gushed over Mary McDonald for months, whether it be about her perfect hair or how she smiled and touched his arm the other day. It didn't matter because he was infatuated with her.

Peter wasn't afraid to ask her out he just wanted to make sure she genuinely liked him and was ready for a relationship before he asked her. He took dating seriously and he knew she was the one he wanted to be with for as long as possible.

He'd said that to Sirius and James when they were picking on him for waiting so long, Remus said he agreed with Pete and to let him take his time, rushing into shit was never a good option and didn't end well. Jirius (as peter and Remus called the other two boys when referring to them both, because they acted like an old married couple) listened intently and finally understood it from his perspective to which they did agree with.

Gotta thank Remus for that. As long as Remus agreed with Pete then that means Sirius would too. And who agrees with Sirius no matter what you're asking? James. He got the whole group with just one I agree.

After a few months of intense flirting he asked Mary on a date to hogsmeade to which she instantly said yes. The boys approved of Mary simply because she made Peter happy, they had decided that for as long as she made him smile they would see her fit to date him. The second his grin was to disappear she would be gone. Even then they were only the second cutest couple in all of hogwarts.

The number one couple you may ask? Sirius black and Remus lupin. Yes you heard right. One half of the marauders quartet took out top spot on the list. It may be a slightly biased list with the marauders taking out top three but hey it's their list.

It took them both way too long to accept the feelings for each other, but once they did it was like they were never anything less. You'd often find them cuddled up asleep on the common room couch way before they dated so the label and the kissing were really the only things that changed.

A lot of people didn't like the fact that they weren't a straight couple. They were heckled all the time no matter if they were holding hands or simply being in the same place at the same time (the four boys were always together so it's kind of hard to be seperate but that's not the point).

Peter and James vouched for the couple whenever anyone said anything to them, they weren't afraid to hex the assholes who dare speak bad upon their best friends. That's what made them such a tight knit group. They trusted each other and would never break that bond.

Remus was the more anxious one when it came to coming out and he denied it for a long time, before coming to terms with the fact he liked boys. Sirius always knew he liked boys, but was brought up in a household where he was told that he was to marry a pureblood female, simply to keep the family line going.

He thought fuck that I'll do what I want and embraced it saying that if anyone had a problem with it, that they should say it to his face otherwise their opinion is useless. Safe to say his knuckles were bruised a lot the following month.

Peter taught him how to fight the muggle way because the wizards wouldn't expect it and it became another thing Sirius and Peter loved to do. They'd have boxing matches all the time always ending in Peter winning, he was just a natural.

When Sirius and Remus decided to come out as a couple officially, their ideas of how were very different. Remus wanted the more subtle way, by walking around holding hands and letting people realise, but Sirius decided that during dinner time he was going to jump up on the gryffindor table, and yell out to everyone telling them to shut up and listen to him.

The great hall quietened down which made professor mcgonagalls yelling to Sirius, telling him to get down this instant much louder but Sirius ignored his precious Minnie and said the following.

"Hey everyone, as you should know I'm Sirius black and I'd like to say something. I am in love with Remus lupin and he is my boyfriend, if any wankers don't agree with that fuck off it's none of your business what I do with my life. Thank you very much go back to what you were doing before." With a wave of his hands at the end.

The great hall was silent for a few seconds as Sirius sat back down, then the chaos was back from before and most people just ignored his announcement, majority thinking they were already a couple.

Remus did not appreciate this but at the same time was glad it was over.

James potter was never one to back down from a public gesture as seen every time he asked out Lily Evans the girl of his dreams and sometimes nightmares too, she was his everything but damn was the girl frightening when she wanted to be .

James however had his sights set on Lily Evans from the moment he'd seen her. Unlike the others boys he was hooked on her like he'd never lived properly before she was in his life.

She stood out from anyone else he'd ever seen with her stunning auburn hair and gleaming green eyes as he so often described to the ever more annoyed group of boys. They put up with it because she made him happy. Sometimes they hated her guts because he'd think he had a chance and she'd shut him down not a single hesitation. They just wanted their friend to be happy and he was a mix of both when it concerned her.

She on the other hand did not see him how he saw her. She rejected his every advance, many of which were outrageous and very public yet he had to declare his love for her some way or another.

He would have flings with other people but only after she'd said no, there was never an emotional attachment to the girls and guys he'd get with, it was always just to blow off the steam. He made sure they knew that too because he didn't want anyone getting attached when he knew he wouldn't feel the same. Just because he likes getting laid doesn't mean he's a horrible person.

It took him years to realise and a bit of maturity that maybe Lily would like him for who he was and his personality not how he asked and humiliated her in front of everyone all the time.

Finally in their last year as head boy and head girl he asked her out normally, just the two of them doing their head duties, on a simple date to hogsmeade and to his surprise she said yes. He was so ecstatic he declared a party to be thrown to celebrate to which she obviously said no but he wasn't James potter without trying anyway.

People often assumed the worst of James when they would see how much energy he always carried with him. He was told by many people that he wouldn't get anywhere in life because he was too ambitious but he ignored them because who were they to tell him he couldn't do whatever he wanted. They were just irrelevant people living in his world.

His world. It no longer felt like his, he had become the irrelevant person living in someone else’s story.

He remembered his years with his best friends at Hogwarts and everything they'd gotten up to.

He thought about the teachers he loved and the teachers he hated. Classes he enjoyed and hours he dreaded. Times he wished he could relive and not have taken for granted. He would trade his life fortunes to go back in time and enjoy every moment when his world was is one piece.

He smiled over his memories and then it hit him. He'd never be able to feel that unimaginable joy he had experienced during his schooling years.

The depressing thoughts crept in overtaking the good, smothering them till they were forgotten at the back of his mind.

It made him sad that he hadn't been able to see everyone for ages. They were probably living their best lives happy as ever never having thought of him again.

James didn't know how long he'd been in the basement for, but he knew it was too long and he was sick of it. The days eventually melded into one and he couldn't tell if it was morning or night. The tallies under the stairs had faded to almost nothing now, barely a scratch on the chipped dusty bricks.

Shuffling upstairs knocked him out of his trance and back to the hard reality he wished he could change.

He laid his head softly back down on the scrap of mattress that made his so called 'bed'.

He closed his eyes attempting to drift back to the happy place with his memories he loved most, dreading having to wake up to yet another day of waiting to die.

#james potter #marauders fanfiction #wolfstar #fandom ships #writing #marauders #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #harry potter #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #lily evans #lily evans potter #james fleamont potter

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gentlepyrate · 1 year ago

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𝐈𝐒𝐑𝐀𝐄𝐋 sent:

the receiver has recently been kidnapped and held captive by enemies of the sender. the sender, having spent every minute since the abduction searching for them, reunites with the receiver after defeating the bad guys.

He hadn't expected to be kidnapped, really, though in hindsight that may have been an oversight.

He is, after all, despite his best efforts, a bit of a weak point compared to Edward and Izzy. He's usually clever enough to talk his way out of trouble or at least to miraculously land on his feet somehow, but when someone puts a bag over your head and promptly knocks you out there isn't really much time to talk. Luckily for him, he seems to be a hostage, meaning they don't want him dead. From what he's gathered, he's being offered to the highest bidder - either Edward or one of many navies which have a bounty out for his head.

That's the intention anyway. Stede knows better.

His inability to behave has left him a little worse for wear - bruised, cut, blood and dirt dried on his face, though not irreparably damaged. They've kept him alive, but only just, offering him moldy bread which at first he'd turned his nose up at, which is now looking like a fair enough offer, piss instead of water which remains disgusting. There is something personal to this - they'd spoken Israel's name with venom in their tone, not that he would ever tell Israel that himself. Knowing Israel, the guilt would never leave.

The day comes when Stede begins to wonder if they are coming at all, though he tries stubbornly not to think of it. It's just - he's never really been wanted. Is he worth the effort? The potential damage? If someone were hurt trying to retrieve him - if Edward or Izzy - well, he would never forgive himself.

So though he isn't irreparably damaged in mind or body, he's still feeling pretty shitty when he hears a crash from a ways off. Stede jumps with a little cry of surprise, then quickly gets to his feet, glancing at the guard they have stationed at his cell.

" Sit the fuck down, " The man growls at him, but Stede just grins, perhaps a little bit more unhinged than intended with how exhausted he is.

" Speak of the devil, " Stede says in a voice which makes him sound sort of out of his mind, and for a moment, there is just a little fear in his eyes - and Stede adores it, actually, is more than happy that one of his captors is experiencing regret in this moment.

And then his brains get blown out of his skull by a bullet. Stede blinks, and intelligently says - " Oh. "

The guard slumps to the ground and Stede groans as he uses the bars of the cell to heft himself up, his head swimming. His tongue is dry in his mouth, his throat filled with sand it seems, and his body isn't liking the standing bit, his heart thudding in his ears, but he holds on tightly, clutching the bars until his knuckled are white because he knows -

" Israel. "

It's a breath of a word and his vision swims - there's two Izzy's, which is a fantasy not to be had right at this moment, so he tries to blink and clear his vision. He thrusts himself forward and manages to stumble to the front bars of the cell, pressing himself the metal just so he can be closer. One of his hands reaches out. He wants to touch, he needs to touch. All of a sudden, he feels sort of insane, tears gathering in his eyes.

" I missed you, " Stede chokes out, which is much too far for whatever they are - Stede loves Izzy, he knows, but they've never admitted it aloud, he can barely get Izzy to hold his hand yet. But he can't help it, just like he can't help the single tear that drifts down his cheek - a precious waste of what little water is left in his system. Stede sucks in a breath to try and get a hold of himself. He is capable and he has to pull himself together. They still have to get out of here. " Where's Edward? The crew? "

@smokedanced

#ic.#smokedanced #smokedanced; izzy hands #ask to tag!!#violence cw #death cw #murder cw #hostage cw #kidnapping cw #injury cw #blood cw #i have a lot of warnings on this blog shh

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genshin-obsessed · 4 years ago

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heck yeah!! okay- can u please write kaeya, diluc, venti, and if its not too much zhongli(if you write for him ofc) with an s/o who's super shy n sweet but knows how to make a comeback? like say someone makes fun of s/o and they make a super savage and sarcastic comment and it takes them aback! ty if u do write it 💜

Ok, ok, ok. So I had a bit of a hard time with this, like I have decent comebacks but it’s gotta be in the moment. I didn’t have a moment. So all of them (except kaeya) are borrowed from friends or online :’) I also hate these and feel like I did no one any justice T^T so I’m sorry

He’s always felt really protective of you. You’re cute, shy, adorable and there’s nothing wrong with that, but whenever someone makes you uncomfortable, he HATES it [see: “When Someone Flirts with You”].

Your shyness was so cute though. He loved doing little things to tease you and watch as you turned into a blushing mess.

Now you see, the one thing he didn’t know about you was that you’re shy BUT YOU AREN’T SCARED TO PUT A BITCH IN HER PLACE.

Kaeya’s pretty. Believe it or not, he’s actually quite popular with the girls (roast me if I’m wrong). Well, there was a girl who knew you were dating him and she still insisted on hitting on him.

You were really calm with it too, standing behind her with your arms crossed and a light glare pointed towards her.

“You look like a Hilichurl on drugs. Walk away.” And she did.

Venti loves your shyness. It’s cute- too cute for him to handle at times. He likes it when you blush or when you hide your face in your hands or behind your hair. He used to wonder if you were maybe non confrontational. He would completely understand it, but seeing as how shy you were, it was safe to say if someone did come bother you, you may need help.

Venti’s a tiny guy, but he’s pretty strong. He’s an archon after all. He’s got his arsenal of insults or witty comebacks but boy oh boy, he did NOT expect yours.

Venti was a bard, and he loved singing for you and others. One day, later in the evening, Venti was performing for you and you were happily enjoying the show. Until a guard approached you two, one you knew well. He’d been quite a problem recently.

“Hey! You stupid bard! Why don’t you get a real, stable job?!” You didn’t even skip a beat before saying:

“Why don’t you get a stable marriage?”

Venti’s eyes widened as he looked back and forth between you and the guard before he slowly turned around and left.

You often had a habit of hiding behind Diluc when it came to bothersome people. He just radiated intimidation.

Because of this, Diluc was always weary of people bothering you. He was really good at picking up on cues and he would know if you were upset or uncomfortable.

Because of all of this, he didn’t expect that you would have some serious comebacks and insults. Every time you respond to someone with that sass, he dies a little on the inside.

He’s so damn proud of you! He just stands there with his arms cross with a smirk on his face.

There was a girl, one who knew you well, who just wouldn’t lay off. She would often shamelessly flirt with Diluc RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU. Normally, you’d ignore her and Diluc shut her down every time. But this once… just this once…

“Ok, listen here you soggy piece of moldy bread, I have tolerated you for far too long. You know Diluc and I are in a relationship and if you continue to talk to him, ignoring my existence, I’m going to kick your ass so hard, whoever pulls my shoe out of your ass will be crowned King Arthur.” She never bothered you again :)

He’s a really nice, sweet, intelligent man. But he doesn’t mind smacking a bitch up for you.

You’re his amazing, beautiful, shy girlfriend. He loves you so much and he just wants to keep you safe. He loves it when you get super shy and blushy, that’s his favorite look on you.

He does get a little worried when people bother you. You aren’t confrontational and when people pelt insults at you- if they dare- he’s at your side ready to handle the situation.

The first time he heard your rare insults, he almost choked on the tea he was drinking. He really didn’t expect it, but he LOVED it. Every time someone pushes your buttons, he just waits behind you excitedly.

“This can’t be the person you’re dating!”

“I am and if you keep that up, I’ll break every bone in your body in alphabetical order. Oh, the trash gets picked up tomorrow, so be ready.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #genshin diluc #genshin venti #genshin zhongli #venti x reader #genshin kaeya #kaeya x reader #zhongli x reader #diluc headcanons #kaeya headcanons #venti headcanons #zhongli headcanons

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ourloveisforthelovely · 4 years ago

Text

Stressed to Kill (one-shot)

Regulus Black au

Request: I am OBSESSED with all the Regulus content. It is amazing. I was wondering if you could do a reader x regulus where the reader is having a bad day from the stress of the exams and he cuddles them to sleep. again love your writing. :)

@wolfstar4lifee- I hope you enjoy this, love

Rating: T

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

________________________

“Regulus, we have a problem.”

Regulus looked up at Evan’s comment. When Evan said that there was a problem it usually went one of three ways…

1. There was a problem and Evan needed help deciding whose ass to kick first. 2. Evan was just being the over-dramatic person that he was and was only being mildly inconvenienced by something. 3. There actually was a problem and for whatever reason Regulus had to solve it. Closing his book, Regulus leaned back in his seat and observed his friend’s face closely for any clues. Evan honestly looked bothered by something.

Number 3, it is.

Regulus thought before speaking.

“What’s wrong?’

Evan motioned to the stairs.

“I just came from the common room and Y/n is having a hell of a day. Has she talked to you about it?”

Regulus shook his head. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen you all morning. He had been practicing quidditch for the tournament most of the day. Normally, he had every morning and afternoon with you until practice but today was different.

“No, what’s going on?”

Regulus questioned automatically worried. There wasn’t much that typically phased you. You were that unshakable wall of steel that Regulus had come to love so much.

“Well, she kind of slipped on a Gryffindor during potions then stormed out leaving Slughorn looking totally baffled. After I went back to the common room, she had taken over three tables and spread all of her notes from each class in a freakishly color-coded system. I was being adorable and she threatened to cut my hand off if I touched them.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow. He knew that you were beginning to worry about exams. Hell, everyone was worried about exams but you possibly more than most people. The Rosiers put a lot of “high” expectations on their children when it came to grades. You exceeded your parent's expectations with flying colors. They expected good grades from Evan but only half of the time got them.

“That sounds like your sister. It's getting late. I’ll go talk to her, you cowering wimp.”

Evan sat down with a thankful smile on his face.

“I owe you so much.”

Regulus rolled his eyes and headed down to the dungeons. He was beginning to wonder why you weren’t at dinner. Now he had his answer

Stepping into the Slytherin common room, Regulus was surprised to see that Evan wasn’t over-exaggerating like normal. You stood looking over what had to be three tables worth of notes with an exasperated expression on your pretty face.

Raising an eyebrow, Regulus walked over to join you. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even seem to notice your boyfriend’s presence. Regulus blinked a few times before looking down at the parchment in front of him. All of the notes were color-coded by class, semester, lesson, and date.

“Sugar, how long have you been awake?”

Regulus asked, softly. You finally looked up, clearly surprised to see Regulus.

“Reg, hi. Sorry but no time. I need answers.”

You had been obsessing over exams for weeks now...well maybe obsessing since the day before yesterday. As the exam day came closer, you began to worry even more. The last thing that you wanted was to fail an exam or make less than exceeds expectations. Your mother and father would expect this out of you.

Regulus sighed.

“No, you need sleep. I’ve seen you like this before.”

“Regulus is right, Y/n. This is just like the time in 5th year when you were going bananas over the OWLS.”

Both Regulus and yourself turned to see Evan standing by the couch with a huge cheesy smile on his face.

“Guys, I don’t need sleep. I need answers.”

Regulus gave Evan a look before stepping closer to you.

“Sweetheart, how about this, let's go up to my bed and have a little nap. When we wake up, I’ll come down here and help you go through all of this.”

“While you two are taking a nap, I can go through all of this for a headstart.”

Evan offered. You immediately shook your head. The last thing that you wanted was your brother to go through ANY of your schoolwork. You would come back down to a hellish disaster that you would never be able to fix.

“I would rather the giant squid do it.”

You snapped in Evan’s direction. Evan looked highly offended as Regulus shook his head mouthing

“Mate, stop.”

Eva blinked a few times before sitting down on the couch.

“Fine, I’ll just guard the table.”

Regulus turned his attention back to you with a smile. He traced a finger over your cheek, earning a small sigh. Regulus knew that he had you exactly where he wanted.

“Come on, sugar.”

You didn’t fight Regulus this time. He interlocked your hand with his as he led you to the boy dormitory. Regulus was right, as usual. You were exhausted and the prospect of falling asleep in Regulus’ arm was a great opportunity.

Regulus tugged his jumper over his head before lying down and holding out his arms.

“Come here, darlin.”

You shrugged your robe off and stepped out of your shoes before crawling into bed beside Regulus. Since you had begun dating Regulus, you had been spending a lot of time locked in Regulus’ bed with the curtains closed. Evan had even suggested making a “keep out” sign so people would think that the two of you were forming some secret club and not having sex.

You wasted no time in snuggling against Regulus’ chest. He pulled the blanket up and snugged his face against the top of your head.

“Mum said you can stay over the summer if you want.”

Regulus said with a yawn. He had obviously not noticed how exhausted he was too. You would have sat up and looked at him surprised but you didn’t want to move from your cocoon.

“Yeah?”

You questioned. Regulus had been on a kick about you staying at Grimmauld Place over the summer. Neither of you really wanted to face the idea of a summer apart and apparently, Walburga was taking sympathy upon you.

“Yeah, I suppose she assumes that we are going to get married after next school year anyway. She probably wants to see if we can live together over the summer without killing each other.”

“Lucky for us, we have never had an argument.”

You said, yawning. Regulus had to agree there. While other couples that the two of you knew were fighting with each other, Regulus and yourself calmly talked about problems. You were supportive of what he was doing with becoming a death eater. The two of you knew it was, for the most part, expected. You were that soft comforting place for Regulus to look forward to getting back to.

“Well, we are going to live happily ever after.”

Regulus commented. He knew the comment was lame and his brain was internally throwing up about that even coming out of his mouth. Just when had he become so mushy over a girl?

“Just accept it. She has you whipped.”

Regulus thought with a smile.

“Y/n?”

��Hmm?”

You replied, clearly about to doze off. Regulus leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you.”

“Love you too, prince charming.”

You muttered, feeling for the first time that day, at peace. You didn’t care about the exams, your parent's expectations, your older brother who was now moving your notes, or anything else. The only thing that you cared about was snuggling closer to Regulus and getting some well-deserved sleep.

__________

@amelie-black @regulusslut @mellifluous-cosmos @fandomsxxregulus @realgaytrash @georgeweasleydumbhoe @jessyballet @knreidy1 @quuenofblacks @mimisparkle12 @teletubiswszpilkach @harrysnosebleed @dumybitch @zievyimas @hazncalsgal @rubyroscoe1 @wolfstar4lifee @bennyberry @criminalyetminimal @whymyparentscheckmyphone @siriuslyceleste @acciosiriusblack @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @moldy-old-boot @hankypranky @summer-novak @emiwrites3reads @shaylybaby2032 @li0nh34rt @tas898 @shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @knight-of-gleefulness @stuckinsaudi1 @marichromatic @untoldshortsofthefandoms @siriuslyceleste @wontlookaway @shitfaceddaniel @mycuddlycorner

#regulus black #Regulus Black x Reader #Evan Rosier #request fic #mutual request #regulus x reader #reader x regulus #hp #hp reader insert #regulus arcturus black #timothee chalamet as regulus black #dane dehaan as Evan Rosier #the ancient and noble house of black #the rosier family #regulus black fics #Stressed to Kill #oneshot #update

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full-of-jams · 5 years ago

Text

Tangsuyuk Love

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Summary: College student Jungkook passes cute notes with a customer who always orders take-out tangsuyuk at his part-time job. Meanwhile he’s trying not to miserably fail his Math class, while hiding his ever-growing crush on you.

Genre: college au, f2l, fluff, smut, one shot, did I mention FLUFF?

Warnings: mild swearing, sexual content, hold your heart palpitations!

Word Count: 11.5k

A/N: I wanted to write something light and sweet before I continued with Good Riddance. It will be easy, she said. It will be fun, she said. It will be quick, she said. Ha. haha. ha. ha. Ignore my pain. Enjoy!

°°°°°°°

[09/04 18:34 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [DELIVERY] 1 Tangsuyuk (large) 1 Jjamppong 2 Kimchi Mandu ---------------- Note: Without pineapple! Please make the jjamppong extra spicy, my boyfriend just broke up with me T-T

Golden Bang 7 Wausan-ro 29-gil, Seogyo-dong

Server: JK ------------------- TO GO

1 Tangsuyuk (large) -- 20,000 1 Jjamppong -- 5,000 2 Kimchi Mandu -- 6,000 1 Soju -- 0

Total: 31,000 -------------------- Thanks for ordering at Golden Bang! Have a golden day!

Note: Service! Nothing’s better than the fresh taste of soju to lighten a heavy heart :) Cheer up LatteIsHorse-Nim!

Paper Note: JK-nim, thanks for the soju. It sweetened my bitter night. This is Tokki, please give him a loving new home! TT-TT

Jungkook was fucking terrified of you. If it weren’t for the fact that he was close to failing Statistical Analysis, he would’ve considered faking a stomach flu and making a beeline straight out of the library.

“If you have a box containing 3 white, 4 red and 5 black balls what is the probability that you will draw a white ball on your first draw and a black ball on your second draw?” you asked again through gritted teeth.

You looked up at Jungkook and were met by an empty stare. Usually you enjoyed tutoring your fellow classmate. He was a smart and funny guy, maybe a bit awkward at times, but always trying his best. Today every little thing grated on your nerves. It took you every ounce of energy to get out of bed and look like a presentable human being this morning. You really didn’t want to sit here for another hour if the boy was just going to stare at you like a petrified statue. “It’s really not that difficult. You just have to apply conditional probability.”

Jungkook let out a frustrated huff and pulled at his hair, “I really don’t know, this doesn’t make any sense! Why do I even need this stuff for my major? Who cares if I pull out a white ball or a black ball first? It’s not like I’m planning on becoming Houdini!”

Sometimes you pitied him, but who on Earth had an irrational fear of Gauss distributions and probability?! They were beautiful, harmless, abstract concepts of life. Your sympathy was muffled by a thrumming headache. All the late-night crying already had you chugging water and slapping ice cubes on your face at breakfast. Right now you just wanted to go home, change into your pjs, order some tangsuyuk and binge watch Boys Over Flowers. The cringy acting and Go Jun Pyo’s luscious locks were the only things that made your miserable life feel a bit less pathetic at the moment. “Jungkook, we went over this last time. Just apply the damn formula,” you snapped.

“Why are you being so scary today?” he asked wide-eyed and apprehensive.

You took a deep breath, rubbed your temples and tried to calm your inner turmoil. It wasn’t his fault; you were just in a really shitty mood. “I’m sorry. It’s not my day today. Is it okay if we rain check? I promise I’ll make it up to you next week.”

Jungkook wasn’t used to seeing you this distraught. He wracked his brain on how to lift your spirit. “Hey, do you want to hear this math joke my friend Jin told me the other day? What do you call an angle that is adorable?”

The boy scrunched his nose adorably and waited for your response. He was really handsome, you noticed that back when you two first met. Back then you just didn’t have a reason to care. Back then you still had a boyfriend.

“I don’t know, tell me,” you answered.

“Acute angle!” he said with a timid smile.

Despite your foul mood you had to snort at his joke.

Jungkook’s smile grew wider. It wasn’t a full laugh, but at least your frown disappeared. He discovered early on that you had a soft spot for bad math puns.

Although he absolutely detested Statistical Analysis, he has come to enjoy your study sessions over the past couple of weeks. The TA of his class, Namjoon, was a close friend of Jungkook’s and a sunbae of yours. Once he discovered that his favorite dongsaeng was abysmal at reading a z-score table, he immediately referred him to you.

At first Jungkook was very reluctant to accept any help. He was a mechanical engineer for fuck’s sake! He calculated distributed load across uneven surfaces and directional derivatives all the time!

His inner protests died down during your first session when you unwittingly asked him if he was constipated while he tried to calculate the standard deviation. During your second session he noticed you liked to doodle small geometric and fractal comics on his work sheets whenever he was solving a problem.

‘What did the triangle say to the circle?’ ‘You’re pointless!’

By the time your third session rolled around he still hated statistics, but it was too late and he’d developed a hopeless crush on you. Your monologues about dead mathematicians and the beauty of an infinite series were oddly captivating. He didn’t think he’d ever met anyone who was so passionate and animated about anything in all his life.

“Is everything okay?” Jungkook asked carefully. You seemed tired and a bit wary. “I-I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t feel like it. Sorry, it’s none of my business,” he immediately added.

You smiled at his flustered state. Jungkook’s heart stumbled when your smile turned sad and you said, “No not really, but I’m sure I’ll be fine sooner or later.”

[13/04 19:12 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [DELIVERY]

1 Tangsuyuk (large) 1 Jjajangmyeon 1 Jjajangbap ---------------- Note: JK-nim! Omg your tangsuyuk is the best! I could drown in that sauce! How is Tokki doing?

Golden Bang 7 Wausan-ro 29-gil, Seogyo-dong

Server: JK ------------------- TO GO

1 Tangsuyuk (large) -- 20,000 1 Jjajangmyeon -- 4,500 1 Jjajangbap -- 5,500

Total: 30,000 -------------------- Thanks for ordering at Golden Bang! Have a golden day!

Note: LatteIsHorse-nim! Little Tokki is doing well and bravely guarding our store! Don’t drown, but here’s some extra sauce for you to enjoy. I asked for it to be without pineapple. Hwaiting!

“Yah! Why does it smell like rotten take-out in your bedroom?” Jisoo asked.

Scowling has become your new go-to expression. “Too soon. Just let me wallow in my self-pity and sorrow.”

If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought your friend was playing ‘The Floor Is Lava’ considering how gingerly she walked across your room. Safely on the other side, she ripped open a window to let some much needed fresh air in.

“I think you’re going to be wallowing in mold and fungus instead,” Jisoo commented with disgust. “Wallow all you want, I’m here to support you, girl. But I can’t allow you to turn your place into a biohazard zone. Isn’t your sister bothered by this?”

“My sister doesn’t care; our rooms are off limits to each other. As long as we both keep the common area clean, she won’t complain,” you said.

Jisoo sat down on your bed and patted the empty spot next to her. She immediately retracted her hand. “Eww, is that tangsuyuk sauce on your sheets?” she asked, completely appalled.

You shrugged and thumped onto your bed.

“So what are your plans for tonight?” she asked, trying to suppress a shudder.

“It’s Monday night. What plans could I possibly have?”

“We’re in college! Weekdays, weekends, they’re all the same!” your friend exclaimed. She looked at your sprawled-out figure. “I told you from the very beginning he wasn’t good for you. I know it doesn’t feel like this right now, but you’re lucky he’s out of your life. I really can’t watch you torture yourself over a jerk like him. Let’s go out to Hongdae!”

“I can’t go out. I already have plans.”

“Didn’t you just say you didn’t have any plans?”

“I lied. I have a date.”

Jisoo paused for a second, unsure how to respond. “Really? With whom?”

“Gong Yoo. We promised to kiss each other on first snowfall,” you responded listlessly.

“Yah!” Jisoo yelled and smacked your butt.

“Oww! What was that for?” you cried in surprise, rubbing the tender spot.

“Re-watching Goblin is not a date! You scared me for a second,” Jisoo said.

“How is it not a date? I meet a hot oppa, multiple hot oppas, we have dinner together, I giggle and blush and at the end of the night I get kissed to sleep.” You sat up and gave your friend a weary look. “I really don’t want to go out right now, but also don’t want to be on my own. Can’t we just stay in and watch a drama?” you asked with the saddest face you could muster.

Jisoo wanted to argue, but she couldn’t resist your pout. “Fine. But first you change your bedsheets, I’m not gonna sit in moldy tangsuyuk sauce all night. And I get to choose the drama.”

“Call!”

[16/04 17:58 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [DELIVERY]

1 Tangsuyuk (small) 1 Kimchi Kimbap 1 Beef Kimbap ---------------- Note: JK-nim thanks for the extra sauce! It was delicious. Are you a dipper or a pourer?

Golden Bang 7 Wausan-ro 29-gil, Seogyo-dong

Server: JK ------------------- TO GO

1 Tangsuyuk (small) -- 13,000 1 Kimchi Kimbap -- 2,500 1 Beef Kimbap -- 2,500 1 Soup -- 0

Total: 18,000 -------------------- Thanks for ordering at Golden Bang! Have a golden day!

Note: LatteIsHorse-nim! Personally, I’m a dipper, but I don’t discriminate! I added some broth as service for you. It’s chilly tonight. Don’t catch a cold!

Paper Note: JK-nim, let’s be friends? I’m also a dipper! Did you know that butterflies can’t fly when they’re cold? Here is one that I folded, sending back my warmest thoughts to you on this frosty spring night.

The first thing that caught your eye was Jungkook who was patiently waiting at the library entrance. Despite the steaming goods in his hands, his entire body was shivering. The temperature suddenly dropped last night, but he couldn’t be bothered to dig up his padded jacket when he left the house this morning.

Before you could even greet him, he shoved a hot milk tea towards you and mumbled, “Here, it’s cold today so I thought you could use something warm.”

You were surprised by this sweet gesture. “Thanks,” you reached for it and examined the drink in your hand, ”How did you know I like black milk tea?”

He ducked his head and mumbled something into himself.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

Jungkook lifted his head. His cheeks and nose were a lovely wash of pink from the cold. “You mentioned once that you’re an OG milk tea drinker, so I just guessed” he repeated again, louder. “I saw this bungeoppang cart on the way here. We can share them while studying?” he said, holding up a small paper bag.

Your heart warmed and for the first time in weeks your face split into big smile, “Sure, I love bungeoppang! We’re not allowed to eat inside the library. So how about we eat everything first before they get cold and then go in?”

The both of you took a seat on a bench. By now Jungkook definitely regretted being too lazy to find his jacket this morning, but he was determined not to let it show. He passed the bag full of bungeoppangs to you.

You happily reached for one of the fish-shaped pastries and started munching on it. Your face crinkled, steam came out of your mouth. Jungkook’s heart skipped as he watched you in fascination. Your cheeks were flushed. A sudden instinct to stroke your rosy skin overcame him. Instead he reached for a bungeoppang and took a careful bite. “Are you feeling better today?”

“A little bit,” you said between bites, “I’m really sorry about last time. I feel bad now. I ditched you and now you’re treating me to snacks.” You went on and stabbed your straw through your milk tea. “I should be the one treating you instead.”

“I like to treat you,” Jungkook said, mesmerized by the way your lips moved against the straw. He suddenly realized what he was doing and cleared his throat, “A happy teacher is a good teacher! You’re already spending your time tutoring me.”

A laugh slipped out of you, “Jungkook, you’re paying me for your lessons. But it’s okay, this bungeoppang and tea definitely hits the spot, so I’ll accept it with a grateful heart. What are you drinking?”

Jungkook looked down on his drink and gave it a shake, the black pearls swirled around buoyantly. “Banana milk tea, I prefer sweet drinks.”

You leaned back against the bench and looked up at the clear blue sky. “Sweet things are the best combat against the bitter taste of life,” you sighed. You closed your eyes and soaked in the crisp air. Jungkook felt your melancholy, he could warm your body, but he didn’t know how to warm your heart.

“Sorry that I’m bothering you with my personal stuff. It’s just that I had a really bad breakup recently. I shouldn’t let it affect our lessons,” you said with a wistful smile as you lifted your head again.

The boy next to you remained silent. You turned and saw a contemplative look on his face. “It’s alright, everyone can have a bad day,” he finally said, “You don’t have to pretend to be okay when you’re not. If you’re never angry or sad, you won’t know when you’re happy.”

His words stunned you. Has Jungkook always been this thoughtful? You turned away from his gaze and looked down at the pastry in your hand. “They’re rhombus shaped,” you muttered in an attempt of distraction and showed your bungeoppang to Jungkook. “The fish scales,” you added when he looked confused.

“Ah yeah, the scales. It’s actually erroneous since most of the bungeoppangs depict a ganoid scale structure when in fact carps have cycloid scales to allow for a greater flexibility,” Jungkook explained.

A blank look appeared on your face. Probably the same blank look he had whenever you tried to explain the Bayes’ theorem to him. He let out an awkward laugh, “We studied the mechanics of fish scale structures in Material Science. You can correlate the flexibility of a scaled surface depending on its underlying geometric structure and material. It’s pretty cool stuff.”

“I can’t believe you can geek out about the geometry of fish scales, but don’t know how to define your probability population,” you snorted in disbelief.

“Hey, when will I ever need to calculate the probability of two people with the same birthday in a room? I just have a hard time learning stuff I never have to apply,” he said defensively.

Then you suddenly had an idea. “Tell you what, how about this? If you pass your statistics final, I’ll treat you to the best Chinese take-out in town! You can order whatever you want!”

Jungkook didn’t want to dampen your excitement by telling you that his part-time job already allowed him to eat as much Chinese take-out as he wanted. “Okay, but don’t complain when you go broke. My record was five jjajangmyeon and two tangsuyuk in one sitting.”

You batted away his challenge. “First you have to pass your finals,” you teased.

“I’ll pass,” Jungkook said.

You smiled at his cute determination. “Then it’s a date.”

Jungkook beamed back at you. “It’s a date.”

[05/05 18:21 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [DELIVERY]

1 Tangsuyuk (large) 2 Pork Mandu 1 Tteokkguk 1 Jjajangmyeon 1 Tteokkbokki ---------------- Note: No pineapple plz. JK-nim! Happy Children’s Day! For this special occasion I’ve decided to order all of my childhood favorites. Life is too short to eat bad food. I hope today you treat yourself to something delicious as well!

“Yah! JK! Your girlfriend placed an order again!” Yugyeom yelled across the store.

A mop of black hair peaked out from the back of the shop. “She’s not my girlfriend, she’s just a regular,” Jungkook yelled back.

“A regular you flirt with,” Yugyeom snickered, “I saw all the notes you left her in the system. ‘Don’t catch a cold!’, ‘Hwaiting!’ Don’t tell me that’s not your lame attempt at flirting.”

Suddenly an angry Yoongi stomped out of the kitchen. “Keep it down boys, we have guests here.”

Jungkook went up to the register and printed out the online order. “Hyung, can you make a large tangsuyuk without pineapple?”

“It’s a national holiday, there’s like two people here tonight,” Yugyeom muttered under his breath.

“What did you say, Yugyeom?”

“Nothing, hyung!”

Yoongi snatched the order out of Jungkook’s hand and gave both boys another irritated glance before he headed back into the kitchen.

“Hey JK,” Yugyeom said in a lower voice as he moved next to his friend, “aren’t you ever curious how LatteIsHorse is like? I mean, she must have some sense of humor judging by her username.”

“Sometimes. Don’t you ever wonder how our regulars are like? But it’s not like I’m ever gonna meet them or know it’s them when they come into the store,” Jungkook said with a shrug.

“You could though. Mingyu’s out on delivery, Eunwoo’s off so we have a free bike. The store is dead tonight. You could go deliver the order and have a look,” Yugyeom spurred him on.

Jungkook considered his friend’s suggestion. Every time he opened his locker a little origami bunny and butterfly stared back at him and brightened his day. It was true, he was curious how LatteIsHorse was like. “Okay I’ll go, but don’t pretend you’re doing me a favor. You just don’t want to do delivery tonight.”

A pretty girl in a Yonsei hoodie and shorts opened the door. She somehow looked familiar, but Jungkook couldn’t place from where. Maybe he met her on campus before.

“Delivery from Golden Bang,” Jungkook said, holding up his metal box.

“Ah great! I’m starving!” the girl said.

Jungkook started unloading the box and handed the dishes to the girl. Once he was done, he lingered awkwardly in the doorway. The girl gave him a curious look, clearly wondering why he wasn’t leaving. Jungkook gathered his courage and said, “I’m JK by the way.”

What followed was a beat of silence. Jungkook could feel his ears burn.

“Err, it’s nice to meet you, I guess? Is there anything else you need?” the girl asked after the painful pause. “Ah got it! Just a sec!” She ran into the apartment and came back with her wallet. “Here’s a tip, we’ll put the dishes back outside for pick up,” she said as she scrunched a bill into Jungkook’s hand, “Thanks for your hard work. Happy holiday!” And then she shut the door right into his face.

What just happened? Jungkook was stupefied. After an eternity he finally moved and mechanically pulled out his phone. He checked the delivery order on his app. LatteIsHorse – this was the address. She didn’t recognize him. Why was he so naive to believe that she would remember him? All he wanted in that moment was for the ground to open and swallow him up.

“Dinner’s here,” your sister said as you came out of the shower. “Did you order banana milk?”

“No? Why?” you joined her at the dinner table and started rummaging through the dishes. “Where’s the receipt?”

“I threw it in the trash,” she said. When she saw you opening up the trash can and fishing for it, she added, “Gross! What are you doing? Why do you need it?”

Golden Bang 7 Wausan-ro 29-gil, Seogyo-dong

Server: JK ------------------- TO GO

1 Tangsuyuk (large) -- 20,000 2 Pork Mandu -- 6,000 1 Tteokkguk -- 4,500 1 Jjajangmyeon -- 4,500 1 Tteokkbokki -- 3,000

Total: 38,000 -------------------- Thanks for ordering at Golden Bang! Have a golden day!

Note: LatteIsHorse-nim! Happy Children’s Day to you too! I added my favorite childhood drink, banana milk! I hope it brings back as many happy childhood memories for you as it does for me.

There, sitting on the table, was a small bottle of banana milk. A smile spread across your face. “I need to file it away for tax purposes.”

Your sister looked at you like you were crazy. “Let’s eat already, I’m starving. Wash your hands.”

[14/05 16:55 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [TAKE AWAY]

1 Tangsuyuk (small) 1 Jjajangbap ---------------- Note: JK-nim, hope you’re doing well. I’m in the area today, so I thought I’d stop by and say hello in person! Is it weird that I feel a bit nervous?

The restaurant door wasn’t going to open itself. The past 15 minutes of you standing in front of it has proven that. You had some errands to run in Hongdae after school and decided on a whim to place a pickup order at your favorite take-out place.

Why was it so difficult to enter a restaurant? If you steeled your nerves any more, they’d probably break from how brittle they’ve become. You just had to open that damn door.

Sometimes you wondered if you liked that place more because of its great tangsuyuk or because of JK’s little notes which always managed to put a smile on your face.

One thing was for sure, you weren’t stalling because of the tangsuyuk.

“Welcome to Golden Bang!” a bright male voice rang across the restaurant as you passed through the door.

You walked up to the register and sneaked a peek at the boy’s name tag, ‘Yugyeom’. You felt a slight twinge of disappointment.

“I’m here to pick up my order? LatteIsHorse?” you asked tentatively.

A sign of recognition flashed across Yugyeom’s face. “Of course, your order’s ready! I’ll just bag it up for you,” he said cheerfully. He walked away and quickly came back with a white plastic bag full of food. Then he printed out your receipt and handed both to you.

Golden Bang 7 Wausan-ro 29-gil, Seogyo-dong

Server: YG ------------------- TO GO

1 Tangsuyuk (small) -- 13,000 1 Jjajangbap -- 5,500

Total: 18,500 -------------------- Thanks for ordering at Golden Bang! Have a golden day!

You looked around the restaurant, it was empty since dinnertime was still a while away. You wondered if Yugyeom was managing the store alone right now. At least the cook must be in. “Your tangsuyuk is really delicious. It’s probably my favorite.”

Yugyeom gave you a big smile, “Happy to hear that you enjoy our food so much. The tangsuyuk is our chef’s family recipe. It’s one of our most popular menu items!”

You wringed your hands and finally decided to bite the bullet and straight out ask, “Is JK here? He usually takes my orders when I order delivery, so I just wanted to say hi.”

“JK’s shift doesn’t start until 6, so he should be here in about half an hour. If you want, I can relay a message,” he said with a knowing smile, “Or you can also take a seat and wait for him. I’m sure he’d be thrilled to meet you.”

No way you were going to sit here for half an hour and wait up for a stranger. “Ah no, that’s alright. If you could just say hi from me, that’d be great,” you quickly replied with a flush. JK would probably think you’re a creepy stalker.

“Sure, can do! Enjoy your day!” Yugyeom said merrily as you walked out the store.

A feeling of both relief and sadness passed through you. You slowly walked down the busy streets of Hongdae as you reprimanded yourself for being so stupid. What were you going to say to JK anyway if you met him? Thanks for being nice to me? You’re the reason I don’t burst into tears every single night? You’re the reason why I don’t feel completely alone when I’m sobbing into my food over Song Joong Ki’s acting? Thanks for making me gain 3 kilos in the last month?

Whatever you said, it would’ve only made you sound pathetic.

A crippling wave of desperation suddenly washed over you and rooted you in your tracks. A single tear rolled down your face. Then another. You dropped down into a crouch and started to bawl. You couldn’t fathom how you’ve reached this all-time low in your life. Why did you feel so incredibly sad about being stood up by a stranger? Especially when that stranger didn’t even know you were coming?

“Y/N?” an alarmed voice asked. You looked up when you felt a soft shake against your shoulder.

Through your tear-blurred eyes you recognized Jungkook’s face. He crouched down next to you and asked, “Is everything okay? Are you hurt?”

You shook your head and tried to wipe away your tears. It was a useless attempt as they kept on streaming down your face.

Jungkook hesitantly pushed your hair out of your face and asked, “Do you want to go somewhere else so you can tell me what happened?”

You gave him an imperceptible nod.

His hand gently moved down to your arm, afraid that you were going to push him away. With a steady grip he slowly helped you back onto your feet. Then he slid his hand through yours and led you down the hustle and bustle of Hongdae until you ended up in front of a convenience store located in one of the quieter residential side streets. He sat you down in a plastic chair and told you to wait. After a while he came back with a packet of tissues, a bottle of water and two red bean popsicles.

You gratefully took the tissues and loudly blew your nose. A small part of your brain told you to act more ladylike, especially in front of Jungkook, but the bigger part didn’t really care and just wanted to drag you back down into the pits of loneliness. A strangled sound came out of your mouth as you started to hiccup, making you sound like a drowning cat.

You expected Jungkook to laugh at your weird orchestra of emotions. Even you found it absurd and would’ve laughed if you weren’t already crying and hiccupping at the same time. But all he did was quietly open the water bottle and hand it to you.

As soon as you lifted the bottle to your mouth another hiccup made you almost spill the water on yourself. You held your breath for a few seconds and then took a careful sip. It seemed to work. You took a bigger sip, when another hiccup racked your body and you squeezed water all over your face.

There was a bewildering moment of shock, then you started to laugh deliriously. Forget before, this was your lowest point in life. This was so pathetic that it was hilarious again. Your laughter garbled whenever you hiccupped, only causing you to laugh even harder. You would’ve continued laughing for another long minute if you weren’t choking for air.

A small smile played around Jungkook’s mouth. He took another tissue and started wiping down your face. You hiccupped under his touch. He must think you’re a nutcase.

“I have a question. We have to do some statistical testing in my Quality Management class. What would a hypothesis look like if I wanted to analyze any deviation in a spare parts production line due to temperature conditions?” Jungkook asked.

Did he really forget hypothesis testing already? He finally managed to get it after four sessions! You frowned slightly. “You could set up a null hypothesis stating that a variation in temperature does not significantly impact the parameter of measurement in your production line. Jungkook did you seriously forget this?!” you said indignantly.

Jungkook gave you a playful laugh, “No, I think you drilled it so hard into my brain, I could probably recite all variables of the standard deviation formula if you woke me up in the middle of the night. Your hiccups stopped though.”

They did.

Embarrassment set in as you realized your predicament. Maybe your hormones were going crazy, maybe you were going crazy. You were getting whiplash from the emotional roller coaster you were on. In an attempt to hide your disgrace, you picked up another tissue and wiped away the remaining water, snot and tears.

There was tangible awkwardness in the air.

“I hope you like red bean,” Jungkook said shyly as he unwrapped a popsicle, “Red bean is my favorite. My friends keep on calling me old fashioned, but it just reminds me of the time when my mom used to buy me these after taekwondo class. I think I liked the popsicles more than I liked going to class.” He sighed in reverie and held up the popsicle for you.

You stared at his hand. You remembered how it felt against yours just a few moments ago. Firm, warm and steady. Then you looked up at Jungkook. He hid it well, but you could tell that there was concern behind his encouraging smile.

“This is so embarrassing,” you said as you accepted the popsicle and turned your head away from him, “I don’t know what is wrong with me right now. I’m usually not like this.”

“Did something happen earlier?” Jungkook asked cautiously as he unwrapped his own popsicle and took a bite out of it.

Did something happen earlier? Why did you cry? Where you really crying just because you didn’t meet JK?

“No,” you said and slowly shook your head, “I don’t know. I just suddenly felt overwhelmed.”

Jungkook hesitated before he asked, “Are you sad because of your breakup?”

Were you sad because of your ex-boyfriend?

“I don’t think so. In the beginning when we broke up I was devastated, but I don’t think that’s the case anymore,” you said more to yourself than to Jungkook. “Everyone told me I was lucky to be rid of him. I really didn’t understand why. But I think it’s becoming clearer now. Maybe it’s not sadness. Maybe it’s fear. I think I just feel lost. I don’t know who I am anymore. Maybe it scares me to know that I was able to lose myself and I don’t know if I can find a way back.”

Before you knew it, you spilled your heart, your deepest and darkest fears to Jungkook. You barely knew this boy, yet it still felt oddly comforting. He remained quiet and listened.

“I wanted to meet someone today, but they weren’t there,” you continued, “I think in that moment I just realized how utterly lost I was on my own.”

Jungkook searched for the appropriate words. How do you respond to someone’s most vulnerable thoughts? “I mean you know what they say. It’s not about how much you’ve lost, it’s about how much you have left.”

He peeked at you to check if it worked.

“Jungkook, did you just quote Iron Man at me?” you asked incredulously before a giggle slipped from your lips.

You noticed how his cheeks dimpled when he gave you an embarrassed laugh, “Sorry, I was trying to say something that would cheer you up. I’m probably not doing a very good job.”

In that second you realized how kind-hearted Jungkook actually was. Your heart squeezed. “Don’t say that. Thanks for listening to my problems. And thanks for the red bean popsicle. I also ate this a lot in my childhood. Mainly because my sister hated them. She always used to steal my ice cream out of the freezer so at some point I asked my parents to only buy me red bean popsicles. She never touched those,” you reminisced.

Jungkook laughed at your story, “Your sister sounds like a piece of work.”

“We used to fight a lot, we used to never get along,” you became thoughtful, “At some point that stopped. I think we just grew up and grew to understand and accept our differences. She doesn’t steal my food anymore. I don’t steal her clothes anymore. We may not always agree, but we respect each other’s decisions.”

“You know, for someone who just said she feels lost, you sound pretty self-reflected right now,” Jungkook mused, “Maybe you need to do the same as you did with your sister. Understand yourself and accept the differences of your past and present.”

You paused at this. He was right. You were so desperately trying to fend off these negative emotions that you never took the time to actually think. You were chasing an image that never existed. Not in the past nor in the present.

“You’re surprisingly good at giving advice. Thanks, Jungkook,” you said.

“Surprisingly? What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, offended. The glint in his eyes gave his teasing away.

Laughter pealed from you. Jungkook was captivated by the sound. He drank in the way your eyes creased with mirth and followed your fingers as they brushed back your hair.

Jungkook’s phone vibrated. “Oh shit!”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I was actually on my way to work and my boss is asking me where I am,” he said as he stuffed his phone back in his pocket.

Jungkook startled when you suddenly jumped up. “Then you should get to work! You should’ve said something sooner. I’m so sorry for keeping you here!”

“No, it’s really fine. I’ve done enough overtime. He won’t complain if I’m a few minutes late,” he said, “Are you feeling better?”

You ignored his question and pushed against his shoulders to get him out of the chair. “Go to work, Jungkook. I’ll be fine, your red bean popsicle did wonders,” you responded placatively.

When he still didn’t move, you grabbed his arm and pulled him back onto the main street. Jungkook’s skin scorched under your touch. “Go to work, Jungkook,” you said again with more emphasis.

“Are you sure…?” he asked, unwilling to let you out of his sight before he knew you weren’t just going cry again at the next street corner.

“I won’t burst into tears,” you said as if reading his mind. “You were right, I need to reconcile with myself. So I’ll go home, enjoy my dinner and think about who I am and who I want to be. And you,” you said giving him another gentle shove, “need to go to work.”

Jungkook saw the stubborn look on your face. He wondered if you realized you were using your teaching voice right now. You weren’t going to take no for an answer. “Okay fine, text me when you get home?”

You waved away his concerns. “Sure. Go already,” you said with a big reassuring smile. “See you tomorrow at school!” you added before you turned around and walked away.

“You’re late,” Yugyeom said as soon as Jungkook entered the store.

Jungkook gave Yugyeom a sheepish look and only muttered, “Yeah sorry, something came up on my way here.” Then he rushed past him to the back of the restaurant and changed into his uniform.

Once he came back out he noticed Yugyeom throwing him strange looks.

“What?”

“Your girlfriend says hi,” Yugyeom said with a hint of amusement.

“Who?”

Yugyeom gave Jungkook a meaningful look, “LatteIsHorse. She ordered pick up. I think she was hoping to meet you. She’s cute. She looks like she’s probably a college student around here.”

“I know,” was all Jungkook replied.

Yugyeom’s eyes bulged in curiosity, “You know? You know she’s cute or you know she’s a student? You never told me what actually happened that night!”

Jungkook gave him a tired look and said, “She didn’t recognize me. She wore a Yonsei hoodie, so I guess she goes there. Nothing else happened.”

“Hmm, that’s weird. She was asking for you today, so she definitely knows your name,” Yugyeom said.

“Who knows, maybe she was having a lot on her plate that day,” Jungkook said with a shrug. He wondered where you lived and if you already got home safely. “Why are you obsessing over this so much?”

“Man, do you know how painful it is to watch your sorry attempts at flirting? I’m just trying to help you out, mate,” Yugyeom quipped.

“I wasn’t flirting! I was just trying cheer someone up who was obviously feeling down! It’s called being a decent human being,” Jungkook exclaimed.

Yugyeom gave him the side eye, “Yeah, that’s still not gonna get you laid.”

[19/05 18:47 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [DELIVERY]

1 Tangsuyuk (small) 1 Bibimbap ---------------- Note: JK-nim, I visited you at the store last week, but you weren’t there. TT-TT I hope you don’t think I’m weird, I just really like talking to you. You always manage to put a smile on my face when I’m having a hard day. We’re still friends, right?

Golden Bang 7 Wausan-ro 29-gil, Seogyo-dong

Server: JK ------------------- TO GO

1 Tangsuyuk (small) -- 13,000 1 Bibimbap -- 5,000

Total: 18,000 -------------------- Thanks for ordering at Golden Bang! Have a golden day!

Note: LatteIsHorse-nim! I’m sad that I missed your visit to our store. I’ll try harder the next time! I added some extra bulgogi to make up for it. :) Of course we’re still friends. I don’t wish any hard days upon you, but I’m glad to hear that my words have a healing effect. In case you ever need a friend to talk to, feel free to talk to me. 010-1234-5678.

The study sessions with Jungkook continued per usual. He still struggled and had frustrated outbursts from time to time, especially when you forced him to revise probability distributions. When you finally reached regression analysis, things became easier.

Although your sessions remained the same, something in your dynamic changed. The both of you became looser and more playful around each other. He wouldn’t clamp up anymore and you felt more at ease around him. You became friends. He never once mentioned that disasterous afternoon.

At home, on the evening of the incident, you shot Jungkook a text and slumped down on the couch. Your sister was out that night, so it was just you in the apartment. Normally, the eerie quiet would’ve unsettled you and you would’ve distracted yourself from your deafening thoughts. But that night you just let them scream, yell and tear at you.

It was an excruciating process, but in the end your head was clearer, your heart calmer. You still weren’t quite there yet, but at least you made a first step out of the endless pit of desperation.

There were other things you noticed about yourself. Gradually you realized you didn’t mind being on your own anymore. You rediscovered your love for drawing and created you own mandala art. You also learned to code your own website and now had a clickable version of your cv on the go. Although you made time for yourself, you weren’t a hermit. You went out for drinks with Jisoo and soon asked Namjoon to take you along to your university’s Math Club. There you met a lot of familiar faces that you’ve encountered in class but never talked to. With them you spent animated evenings discussing stimulating math problems and exchanging incredibly bad math puns.

You also started noticing things about Jungkook. He wasn’t as timid and shy as you initially thought. Once he got over his awkwardness, he turned out to be quite a cheeky and goofy guy. He teased you or told you silly jokes whenever you were on a break. Despite his obvious aversion for statistics, he still took your lessons very seriously. Diligently listening to your explanations and trying to solve the problems to the best of his abilities. His study-mode showed you other sides of him. The cute pout he had whenever he tried to hide his confusion. Or the two little ridges which formed between his eyes whenever he was concentrated and deep in thought. More often than not you fought the urge to smooth them out with your touch or even better, with a kiss.

“Is something wrong?” Jungkook asked when he caught you staring.

“No,” you quickly said, “I was just thinking that you don’t seem to have much trouble with regression analysis.”

“I don’t know, the relationship between the variables just makes much more sense,” Jungkook said.

You looked at him and considered, “Hmm, maybe you don’t need my tutoring anymore?”

Brief dismay crossed Jungkook’s face. “My finals are in three weeks. I think I’d still prefer if you helped me revise the earlier chapters,” he said, “Unless you need more time to study for your own finals.”

Being in college meant that you were always in dire need of more time. That constant nagging voice in the back of your head telling you to study was an occupational disease. But you didn’t have to kid yourself, those four hours a week spent on Jungkook weren’t going to make or break your grade. Besides, you enjoyed spending time with him. You wondered if he felt the same.

“It’s alright, I’ll help you revise. Just don’t embarrass me on your finals. I don’t want Namjoon to tell me afterwards that you didn’t manage to calculate the mean of the population or worse, read the scoring table upside down,” you teased him light-heartedly.

Jungkook’s ears turned bright red. “That happened once!” he said, “How long are you going to hold that over my head?”

You laughed at his indignation. “Don’t forget, you’ll get endless tangsuyuk if you pass.”

[26/05 20:09 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [DELIVERY]

1 Tangsuyuk (small) 1 Jjamppong ---------------- Note: JK-nim, I’d like to get the advice of a friend. There’s this kind, sweet boy that I really like. I would like to tell him how I feel, but he’s seen me in my lowest and ugliest moments. Maybe he’ll think I’m just baggage? I guess I’m afraid of his rejection.

Golden Bang 7 Wausan-ro 29-gil, Seogyo-dong

Server: JK ------------------- TO GO

1 Tangsuyuk (small) -- 13,000 1 Jjamppong -- 5,000 1 Soju -- 0

Total: 18,000 -------------------- Thanks for ordering at Golden Bang! Have a golden day!

Note: LatteIsHorse-nim! It’s only human to fear rejection. I can completely understand. I also have someone I really like. She’s really pretty, smart and funny. Spending time with her makes me really happy, but I never managed to tell her. Maybe we should both gather our courage and cheer each other on? I’m not saying that drunken confessions are the way to go but consider this soju a symbolism for (liquid) courage.

Paper Note: This is a flexagon. Whenever you need a word of encouragement give it a flip!

Jungkook examined the hexagonal origami in his hands. On the outside it read ‘Flip Me!’

He gave the flexagon a flip. ‘JK you’re the best!’ And another. ‘The world needs more people like you!’ And another. ‘Don’t forget that LatteIsHorse is always rooting for you!’ And another. ‘Aja, aja, hwaiting!’ And another. ‘Thank you for being my friend!’

Jisoo barged into you room and flopped onto your bed. ‘Ahhh! I’m so glad you finally cleaned in here. Seriously, if I find another rancid noodle stuck to my clothes, I’ll call in a hazmat team.”

“I don’t know why you’re complaining so much. It’s not even your room,” you said.

“Hey, where are you ever going to find a friend like me?”

Your friend sacrificed many a night away from college parties to binge watch handsome oppas sweep equally beautiful unnies off their feet with you. And she wasn’t shy telling you that.

“Let’s go out tonight,” Jisoo suggested. She rolled back onto her feet and started walking around, inspecting your cleaning job.

“Our finals start in two weeks; I really don’t want to spend my weekend nursing a hangover.”

“I’m not saying you have to get wasted. Tonight is the Pre-Game Night. We have to go!” Jisoo demanded.

The Final’s Pre-Game Night was a campus-wide tradition. Every semester on the Friday a week before finals huge parties were thrown to signal the beginning of the end. It was like a dare – were you confident enough to get completely drunk and still hope to pass your finals? Naturally everybody on campus joined in and drank.

“Not getting wasted at a Pre-Game party? That’s like saying you’ve decided you don’t need to breathe. I really don’t think…”

“What’s this?” Jisoo suddenly interrupted. “LatteIsHorse-nim! Personally, I’m a dipper, but I don’t discriminate! I added some broth as service for you. It’s chilly tonight. Don’t catch a cold!” she read aloud, “LatteIsHorse-nim! Happy Children’s Day to you too! I added my favorite childhood drink, banana milk! I hope it brings back as many happy childhood memories for you as it does for me.”

You flung yourself across the room and almost tripped over your own feet trying to rip the receipts out of Jisoo’s hands.

“Oh. My. God. Is your take-out guy flirting with you?!” she asked.

“No! He’s just a friend. We send encouraging notes to each other,” you tried to explain.

Jisoo threw her hands in the air. “Okay that’s it! We’re going to the Pre-Game party, whether you want or not. You can’t tell me that the only flirting interaction you have is with a stranger who delivers you tangsuyuk!”

The place Jisoo picked out was ram packed and buzzing with energy. It was an open dorm party; all the common rooms were transformed into dancefloors. Different types of music played from each corner of the building. Crates of alcohol were stacked against the walls.

The both of you grabbed a beer and made your way through the crowd.

“You’re going to have fun tonight, alright?”

“I don’t think this works that way,” you laughed.

“Then put some effort into it. We look way too cute for it to go to waste,” she said as you roamed around the floors and explored the different areas. You looked down on your dress. It was a pretty warm night; you had opted for a flowy summer dress with a blush pink floral pattern. Jisoo was right, it was cute.

You discovered a familiar face at the edge of the crowd. “Sunbae!” you said.

Namjoon turned around gave you a surprised smile. “Y/N! Out of all the places on campus, we meet each other here tonight. What are the chances?”

He was surrounded by a group of friends, you spotted Jungkook right behind him. The boy gave you an excited wave. A slow smile spread across your face. “I don’t know, but why don’t we ask Jungkook to calculate it for you?”

Namjoon let out a hearty laugh while Jungkook groaned in exasperation.

“Do you see what I have to put up with every week, hyung?”

“Didn’t you just say it’s the best thing that happened to you?” Namjoon taunted, “You have some nerve showing up in front of me tonight. You better ace your SA finals. Do you know how many favors I had to pull to get Y/N to tutor you?”

“What do you expect me to do?” Jungkook sputtered, “Go home and lock myself up on Pre-Game Night?”

If it weren’t for Jisoo you would’ve done just that. Speaking of Jisoo, your friend cleared her throat and gave you a painful nudge in the side.

“Ah yes, uhm, Jisoo you already know Namjoon. This is Jungkook. You know, the guy I’m tutoring.”

Jungkook gave her a small wave.

Jisoo didn’t even try to hide her amazement. “This is Jungkook? But you’re like wayyy cute!” She turned to you and added still loud enough for everyone to hear, “Why didn’t you tell me he was cute?!”

The embarrassment was obvious on Jungkook’s face. You could tell that Namjoon was getting a rush out of his dongsaeng’s reaction and before he could provoke him any further you decided to jump in.

“Who wants to go dance?” you asked loudly. You turned around and headed to the dancefloor without waiting for any of them to respond.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were tutoring a hunk?” Jisoo muttered under her breath.

“He’s not a hunk. Don’t call him that.”

“Yeah but he’s hot. You made him sound like he was a nerd.”

“He is a nerd.”

Your friend gave you a glare, “Why are we arguing about this? I know you’re not that oblivious.”

Of course you weren’t oblivious to Jungkook, but you weren’t going to tell Jisoo that.

“Let’s dance.” You grabbed Jisoo’s hand and twirled her around.

Namjoon and his friends joined you on the dancefloor. The mood of the crowd was electric. Music pulsed through your veins. Drinks flowed, shots were downed, people pulled out their best, lamest, craziest dance moves. Everyone celebrated like the world was going to end.

After a while you became hot and needed a new drink. You looked around for Jisoo and saw her grinding up against one of Namjoon’s friends. She’d be busy for a while. You inconspicuously moved away from the group and decided to go get some fresh air.

“Wait up,” Jungkook said as he appeared next to you, “are you getting something to drink? I’ll join you.”

His dark curls were slightly matted with sweat. His baggy t-shirt clung to his body. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or Jisoo’s damn voice whispering into your ear. He was hot.

You circled your arm through his and pulled him through the crowd. His muscles shifted under your touch. You grabbed two drinks from a crate and handed one to Jungkook, your nerves tingled when his hand brushed against yours. The both of you remained in comfortable silence, leisurely walking through the dorm, neither of you in a hurry to get back to your friends. You explored the facility areas, weaving through pounding and quiet parts of the building.

“You look really nice tonight,” he said after a while.

The heels of your shoes echoed against marble floor of the dark hallway. “Thanks, Jisoo raided my closet.”

“She’s really something isn’t she?”

“She’s the best. I’m grateful to have her as my friend.”

Somewhere further down the hallway you made out two figures pressed against the wall, probably trying to find a quiet place of their own.

“You also look nice,” you said to Jungkook.

“I’m wearing the same things I always do,” Jungkook said, his voice turning shy.

You were getting closer to the couple. You could see how the guy was sticking his tongue down the girl’s throat. She seemed to enjoy it from the sounds she was making. Lucky them.

Your next words were definitely fuelled by your tipsy state, “I guess that means you always look nice.” Jungkook missed a step. You had to laugh at his blunder.

The couple in front of you broke apart and looked in your direction. More annoyed about being interrupted rather than embarrassed being caught. You were about to make a funny comment to Jungkook when your heart stopped and you froze.

A string of saliva still clung to the guy’s lips. His eyes widened when he recognized your face in the darkness. “Y/N?”

Your breath hitched and your grip tightened around Jungkook’s arm. He glanced between you and the guy, the situation slowly dawning on him.

“Why did you stop? Who’s that?”, the girl whined.

“No one,” the guy responded as he returned his attention to her and they started making out again.

Jungkook didn’t know if he wanted to puke or punch that guy. A sharp pain in his arm brought him back to his senses. Your nails dug into his skin. He put his hand around yours and loosened your iron grip.

“Let’s go,” he said and quickly pulled you past the couple. You followed him in a daze. He stopped once you were outside of the building, hidden away in a quiet corner.

His hands reached for your face and he lifted your eyes to his. “Breathe.”

You closed your eyes, let out a long breath and let your head fall against the wall behind you. The horrible encounter replayed in your mind. You had to open your eyes again.

There he was right in front of you. Worried Jungkook, kind Jungkook, beautiful Jungkook.

Your hands reached behind his neck and you pulled him a bit closer. You tried to decipher his gaze, it was dark and yearning. Everything was a haze, the alcohol in your blood made you daring.

“Kiss me,” you whispered.

His mouth crashed against yours. Your hands slipped up into his hair and your bodies entwined. You opened your lips and sucked in his hot breath. Your tongues found each other; he groaned at your taste.

He moved one of his hands down your side until he found purchase on your leg and hitched it up against his waist, pressing his body further into you. You let out a moan when his hips ground into yours.

All your senses drowned in Jungkook. You drowned in his scent, you drowned in his touch, you drowned in his heat. You tried to use Jungkook to drown out the grotesque image from before. Suddenly the heat of the moment disappeared, and a cold shower ran down your spine.

You broke away from your breathless kiss and put your hands against Jungkook’s chest to put some distance between you. He gave you a disoriented look.

“I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have kissed.”

Jungkook’s eyes grew wide and alarmed. “Did I do something wrong?”

His lips were swollen, his hair was mussed. You wanted nothing more than to pull him back in, but you couldn’t. Not here. Not like this. He deserved better.

You pushed yourself off the wall and gave him a small shove. He immediately let go of you and stepped back. “I shouldn’t have kissed you like this,” was all you said before you ran back into the building.

The next day you woke up to a splitting headache and a heart full of regret. You really needed to talk to Jungkook and explain to him why you ran away the previous night, but you were too much of a coward to pick up your phone and contact him. You decided it was better to talk to him in person at school.

The following week at school you waited for him in the library. Your heart was in your throat. Your prepared speech played in an endless loop in your head.

‘I’m sorry I ran away. I shouldn’t have kissed you in that state. It wasn’t fair to you. You deserve better than that.’

You looked down on your phone to check the time. A message blinked. You opened and read through it. Your heart sank. He wasn’t coming. He wanted to study the last week before finals on his own. He thanked you for your time.

Slowly you got up and packed your bag. You blew it. You wanted to do him right, but you only caused him pain. Thinking back, you realized he gave and gave and gave and all you did was take. He was right to stay away from you. There was no way he’d be happy with someone like you.

The week passed and finals week commenced. You immersed yourself in your exams and tried to get over your heavy heart. You were pretty sure you aced Geometry II, but the Numerical Analysis exam was nothing but a blur.

Although your heart ached, you didn’t fall back into the same dark pit of the past. You didn’t feel lost, you got on with your life. Nobody noticed the Jungkook-sized hole in your heart except for you. You wanted to talk about your feelings, but you didn’t think Jisoo or your sister would understand. They’d probably just tell you to get out there and find a new guy.

Another week passed. You were walking out of your professor’s office, finalizing the details of your summer internship, when you bumped into Namjoon.

“Y/N! What are you doing here? Aren’t you off for summer break yet?” he asked.

“I was just discussing my internship with Prof. Kim,” you said.

“Ah you’re participating in his research program?” Namjoon said, “I heard it’s really interesting, he’s intense though.”

“I think intense is fine for me, I need something to do with my brain. Otherwise I’ll just go crazy,” you said with a smile.

“Speaking of intense, what did you do to that kid?” Namjoon suddenly asked.

You tensed. Did something happen to Jungkook? “What do you mean?”

“Did you brainwash him or something? He got a 98 on his SA final! When I handed him over to you, he was still asking me why the positive and negative z-scores tables had different values,” Namjoon said in awe.

Relief washed through you and your chest filled with pride. “Watch out sunbae, I might be coming for your TA position,” you said with a wink.

At home you sprawled out on the couch. Your sister’s classes ended earlier than yours so now she was away with her friends travelling the countryside. Your mind wandered as you stared up at the ceiling of your quiet apartment. You really wanted to call Jungkook and congratulate him, but you didn’t think you should. He clearly didn’t want to be in contact with you, you hadn’t heard anything from him since his text canceling your study sessions.

A pang of sadness washed through you. It should have been a happy moment for the both of you, you should be eating tangsuyuk together right now. You really wanted to tell someone about your joy and your grief.

Then you suddenly remembered your friend. Your friend who never judged and always had something wise to say. Maybe he would understand the conflicts of your heart. You got up and dug through the receipts on your desk until you found the one with his phone number on it.

You hoped he wouldn’t think you were crazy, but then again, he was the one who offered himself to talk to you any time. You typed in the number and hit call. Your phone dialed when suddenly the number displayed switched to a name. Jungkook.

You quickly hit the cancel button and stared at your phone. Did you accidentally hit Jungkook’s contact? Was your phone broken? This time you typed in the number more carefully and hit call. Again, the display switched to Jungkook’s name. You hit cancel.

Your heart began to race. You opened up Jungkook’s contact and compared it with the number on the receipt.

Holy shit.

JK was Jungkook. Jungkook was JK.

The stranger who cheered you on and made you smile whenever you felt down was Jungkook. You combed through all your receipts and reread them one by one. What was the probability for this to happen? This was so bizarre, but it made so much sense. Jungkook was the kindest person you knew. Why wouldn’t he be kind to a stranger who needed some uplifting words and comforting tangsuyuk?

[13/06 18:20 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [DELIVERY]

3 Tangsuyuk (large) 6 Jjajangmyeon ---------------- Note: JK-nim, I hope you’re doing well! Can I ask you for a strange favor? Would you mind delivering today’s order to me? I would really like to meet you and thank you in person for always being by my side! <3

The doorbell rang. Your heart pounded painfully in your chest. You slowly walked up to the door and opened it.

“Delivery from Golden…,” Jungkook’s voice faltered.

“Hi JK-nim,” you said quietly. You opened the door wider. “Thanks for coming today.”

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” he asked.

You had to smile at his look of utter confusion. “I live here. Come in, you can put the food on the dining table.” You turned around and walked back into the apartment.

Jungkook hesitated before he followed you inside. He moved up to the table and unloaded his box. He tried to steady himself. “You’re LatteIsHorse-nim?” he asked skeptically, “I’ve been here before. Last time someone else opened the door.”

He has visited you before? “Oh, that was probably my sister. I live here with her. She’s out travelling right now.”

“So you’re on your own right now? Why did you order so much food?” he asked. A giant mountain of neatly stacked dishes graced the table.

You came up and pried the metal box out of his hand. Then you moved in front of him and unclasped his bike helmet. He flinched at your sudden closeness.

“To celebrate. Congratulations on passing your Statistical Analysis exam. Namjoon told me you passed in flying colors,” you said in a gentle voice. “I promised you the best Chinese take-out in town, didn’t I?”

Jungkook still looked shell-shocked and simply stared at you.

“I’m sorry about that night at the Pre-Game party. I’m sorry I ran away. I owe you an explanation.”

Jungkook regained his wits and swallowed. “It’s okay, you don’t have to explain yourself. I get it, we were drunk. It was a mistake.” He looked down and tried to turn back around.

You grabbed onto his hands before he could move away. “Jungkook, look at me.”

He stopped turning, but his eyes remained on the floor.

You took a deep breath and squeezed his hands. “I really like you. I’ve really liked you for a while now.”

His eyes shot up to your face.

“The reason why I ran away that night was because I felt guilty. I probably would’ve ended up kissing you anyway, but in that moment, I kissed you because I wanted to forget. I didn’t want our first kiss to be like that. I wanted it to be the me who liked you and not the me who tried to drown out her shitty ex-boyfriend. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

There was an unreadable look in his eyes. Your heart fluttered in nervousness. “How long have you known I was JK? How long did you know I had a crush on you?” he asked.

You could feel your blood rushing through your ears, the butterflies in your stomach beat like crazy. “Since today. I was sad because I thought I couldn’t share the promised meal with you. I wanted a friend to talk to, so I thought to call you. You who was always kind to me, even when I wasn’t kind to myself. Isn’t fate strange? We cheered each other on to find each other.” You had to laugh at the irony of it all.

Your hand hesitantly moved up to his face and stroked across his cheek, “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I made you sad.”

Jungkook melted against your touch. “If I’m never sad, I won’t know when I’m happy.” Then he closed the gap and pressed his lips against yours.

It was a sweet but sad kiss. Filled with happiness and sorrow. Every touch was filled with an ‘I missed you’ or an ‘I’m sorry’.

Jungkook pressed you against the edge of your dining table, he lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist. You both deepened your kiss. Your hands snaked through his hair and pulled him closer into you. Jungkook braced his hands against the table and instinctively ground his hips against your core. You moaned his name at the sensation. The both of you broke apart to catch your breaths, you pulled at his jacket and removed his layers of clothing.

You stilled at the sight of his bare chest. He was truly beautiful. Your fingers traced along his skin and marvelled at its silkiness. Jungkook shuddered under your touch. His hands moved under your shirt and you both lifted it off your head. Then you gripped his hands and slowly led them around your back, urging him to take off your bra. You wriggled out of your jeans and laid yourself completely bare in front of him. Jungkook stopped and stared at you, equally amazed.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

Your heart swelled and you pulled him back into a kiss. Both his kisses and his hands left a burning trail down your body. His mouth sucked on the soft skin of your neck while his hands moved across your breast, across your stomach, lower and lower. Wetness gathered between your legs.

“Jungkook,” you sighed. The muscles of his back shifted under your touch.

He released your neck with a loud smack and looked at the artwork he created. He still couldn’t get over how overwhelmingly beautiful you were. Your cheeks flushed, eyes bright and his name at the tip of your tongue. He felt himself strain against his confines.

“Please,” you whimpered. You looked down at his hand and tried to silently command him to touch you.

He kept his eyes trained on your face when his fingers moved lower and slid through your folds. Another moan left your lovely lips. He teased you with his touches, gathering your wetness until he finally pushed down where you wanted him most. Your hands dug into his back, your hips bucked, and you threw your head back in pleasure. He steadied your hips with his other hand and slowly pushed a finger inside of you. Another loud moan echoed through the room.

Jungkook was transfixed by you. He added a second finger and started pushing in and out. Your eyes squeezed shut in pleasure and small breathless pants left your mouth. Jungkook increased the speed of his movement and marvelled at the way you reacted under his touch. Then he moved his mouth to your breast and closed his lips around your nipple. You raked your hands through his hair and arched into him. Your core tightened around his fingers. All your nerves were on fire.

You pulled him away from your breast and guided his mouth back to yours. Your tongue traced his lips and you swallowed his moan. You wanted more, you wanted him closer. His fingers curled and his thumb pressed down on you. Jungkook held you tight as you shuddered and fell apart around him.

He rested his forehead against yours, your breath mingled as you both panted into each other. He slowly removed his hand from you and traced his mouth with his slicked fingers, then he moved them to your lips. Your tongue licked the tips of his fingers. His grip tightened around your waist.

“I want to feel you,” you said.

Jungkook shuddered at your words. “Where is your room?”

“The door behind you.”

Jungkook lifted you off the table, you tightened your legs around him and gave him another kiss. He walked you both to your room and gently laid you down on your bed. He took off his pants, then slowly moved onto the bed and hovered above you.

“Tell me what you want,” he said.

Your fingers caressed his face. “I want you to be happy.”

Another shudder ran through him. “I am happy. What else?”

You traced his eyes, his nose, his lips. “I want to be the one making you happy.”

Jungkook couldn’t contain himself anymore. His heart felt like it was about to explode. He covered your body with his and pressed himself into you. Your eyes rolled back as he entered you slowly. You felt so full you wanted to burst out of your skin. You could feel how the Jungkook-sized whole in your heart filled up again.

He rocked into you and took your breath away. Your nails raked across his back and left red lines against his smooth skin. Jungkook ducked his head into the crook of your neck and moaned against your skin. Every pull dragged pleasure out of you, every push brought you closer together.

You wanted more. Jungkook gave you more.

You wanted him closer. Jungkook pushed deeper into you.

With every moan, Jungkook pushed harder, pushed deeper. He wanted to melt into you. He wanted the lines between you and him to disappear. Your desire was his desire. His pleasure was your pleasure.

Jungkook could feel you tightening around him. He moved his mouth over yours and gave you an ardent kiss. The light of your desire turned brighter and brighter until it burst apart into a thousand little flames. You cried against his lips and let the heat consume you. Your body pulsed around his and the overwhelming sensation brought him right over the edge with you.

The both of you laid on your bed and clung to each other. Neither of you willing to let the other go. Your pounding chests beat in tandem. Jungkook stroked his hand across your hair and kissed your head.

“I want you to be happy too,” he said.

“I know,” you said as you smiled against his chest, “You make me happy.”

Jungkook pulled you tighter into him and you remained silent for a while. His hand traced lazy patterns against your skin. Your breathing evened out.

“Are you allergic to pineapple?” he suddenly asked.

You looked up at him in surprise. “No. Why?”

“Because you always order tangsuyuk without pineapple.”

“Oh. That’s because my sister hates pineapple.”

Jungkook frowned, you pulled yourself up and kissed the little ridges between his eyes.

“What?” you asked.

“I think the jjajangmyeon is all soggy by now,” he said.

You had to laugh. “Probably, but the tangsuyuk should still taste great.”

Jungkook kissed you with a smile. “You’re right, tangsuyuk always tastes great.”

°°°°°°°

02/05/20

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canyouhearthelight · 4 years ago

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The Miys, Ch. 140

And here we have the last chapter of the Food Festival! This is one part I was pretty excited to write - The Closing Costume Party. I wouldn’t have been able to get this one squared away without @baelpenrose and @charlylimph-blog... Both of you caught a few things I didn’t that kept it from making sense from a reader perspective. So thank you both, very much.

I growled softly to myself as I twisted my arms behind my back to pull on my costume. Normally, I was more than flexible enough, but the amount of leverage I needed right now just wasn’t happening unless I was willing to seriously dislocate something. Dropping my hands, I frowned as I jiggled my arms a little to work feeling back into my elbows.

“You really should have fitted this sooner than now,” Conor laughed against the back of my head as he pulled the laces tight on the blood-red corset. Getting one made while laying low and avoiding Hannah had been a nightmare, but it was going to be worth it. I just knew it.

“You just wanted to see me try this entire costume on sooner,” I joked as I felt everything fit snugly - but not too tightly - into place.

Maverick flicked a lock of my hair over my shoulder and positioned it just-so. “It’s not his fault that you couldn’t fit this over your scrubs and have it work for tonight.”

“Who wants to see a corset over scrubs?” I scrunched my nose at the thought while smoothing my sleeves and adjusting my collar. “So far so good?” I asked, slightly louder.

As a credit to their maturity regarding the matter, both men looked me over earnestly before glancing at each other. Conor finally broke the silence. “Aren’t the slits in the skirt a bit… high?” Maverick whispered in his ear, and an expression of utter comprehension glowed on his face. “Oh! That’s… Love, that’s clever.”

I grinned hard enough to cramp my jaw. “Thank you.” Despite how daring the outfit looked, there was exactly zero chance of any wardrobe malfunctions more serious than a hole in my stockings - a near-indestructible nude bodysuit under everything made sure of that.

“Your turn, now,” Maverick insisted, eliciting a groan from Conor, who he had turned toward while brandishing eyeliner.

“Isn’t it bad enough I let the two of you do this?” He gestured at his hair, which was styled within an inch of his life and would sustain an EF4 tornado with minimal loss of glitter.

“Nope,” I popped, still smiling as I sat down to put on my boots. Parvati and Hannah had envisioned tonight to be a sort of return-to-our-roots in a very feral, primitive way, complete with costumes. “We’ve been imagining since before we could cook,” Hannah had pointed out. Between that and the multiple hints that I wasn’t capable of costuming myself, I had gone a bit more over the top than I had originally planned. Hence the corset, the boots, Conor’s hair… although the leather pants the guys were wearing had been decidedly Maverick’s idea and I resisted the need to fall at his feet in gratitude.

Once we were finally costumed, we managed to arrive just-fashionably late to the last hurrah of the Festival. I don’t know who gaped harder - us at the party, or the people who managed to recognize me when they saw me leading the men in. Parvati’s incredible, winding mural was noticeably weathered and patchy, giving the overall atmosphere a post-apocalyptic feel. The only noticeable lighting came from the braziers, and deep, almost subsonic music thumped in my chest, driving my adrenaline just high enough to overwhelm my anxiety.

My nose led us over to the first stall of the night, the smell of charring meat fitting the tone. Per a previous discussion around our costumes, I did not reach for anything but instead Conor took my portion and fed it to me - his idea, this time, though Maverick had readily agreed. It was just enough to set off a few murmurs before I heard a familiar laugh cut through the air.

“Councillor Reid!” Jokul’s voice crowed, turning our heads his direction. Warmly, he clasped my hands when offered, trembling with the laughter he was trying to suppress. “This is an unexpected but pleasant surprise.”

I took a moment to take in his fur trousers and tunic, with rough metal covering vital areas. “The dirt is a nice touch,” I offered, squeezing his hands in greeting. “And Ivan! Well done, sir!”

Ivan rubbed the freshly-buzzed back of his head and grinned. “He actually already had the furs, I just made the armored parts.”

“I meant all of it,” I admonished softly, waving at his work throughout the event.

“Antique, yeah?” Conor asked, gesturing to the furs both of them were wearing.

To his credit, Jokul scoffed. “Absolutely not. Quality synthetic.”

“Don’t let Hannah find out.”

A silver brow arched high enough to impress even Tyche. “Who do you think I commissioned?”

“Clever boy.” I winked at Ivan, eliciting a grin.

In response, Ivan did a runway-twirl, his fur kilt flaring just slightly. “What do you think, Councillor? Can I pull it off?”

With the cheekiest grin my soul could ever manifest, I stared him down. “I think I am the wrong person to ask that.” Even in the dim light, I could see Jokul’s face turn bright red.

“I smell goat,” Maverick interrupted, entirely off topic and completely unabashed.

Ivan’s nose twitched. “Oh, you’re right!” Sniff, sniff. “And it’s on a spit! Let’s find it before it’s gone!”

With that, he snagged Jokul’s wrist and dragged him less like he was an easily two-hundred pound man and more like he was a kite. When I snickered, my former enemy leaned over and murmured “I like the chains, very nice touch.”

I shook the wrist that connected to Conor’s belt and whispered conspiratorially. “Your idea, really. You were so convinced I was leading the entire Ark like this…”

He had the decency to snort. “Seeing it in reality, I was a complete idiot. But it’s quite poetic, and I like it.”

“Poetic?” I asked as I tried to keep pace in the six-inch heels I had elected to wear.

“Are they chaining you down, or are you leading them by their gonads? Or, perhaps, are they saving you from yourself?” He gave a very pointed look at the delicate chains going from the shackles on my wrists to the links attached just above Maverick’s and Conor’s hips.

“Saving me, definitely.” My confession was unashamed and completely sober, the result of the primal music and smells surrounding me.

“Gods agree, someone needs to.”

I didn’t have time to argue before we arrived at the source of the enticing smell - a Jamaican barbecue vendor, who had oxtails, saltfish, and…

“Grilled goat!” Ivan crowed triumphantly. As he started handing out portions from the dancing, grinning vendor, he raised an eyebrow when he noticed that the portion he tried to hand to me was intercepted by Maverick first, and then fed to me rather than feeding myself.

“Not my idea,” I managed around an insanely delicious bite. “Swear.”

“Kink tomato,” he insisted, holding up his hands.

Conor almost choked laughing. “Not our kink either, mate. Just set dressing for the Queen over here.” Taking another bite, he winked at me.

“Ah, Conor’s idea then,” Jokul nodded sagely before erupting in the closest thing to a girlish squeal I could imagine coming from him. “Miss Harper, we’ve been looking for you!”

Shit, I thought to myself. I hadn’t thought of what Charly would say when I discussed this idea with Conor and Maverick, and I was just realizing it was a monumental oversight. Plastering a smile on my face, I turned in the direction Jokul had shouted -

Only to be confronted with what looked like a fox with antlers, a rakish Anansi, the Queen of the Dead, a blind healer, and… a walking shrine? I wasn’t sure what exactly Arthur was dressed as, but I could clearly identify a shabby tweed suit, his sword, a tome that I hoped was faux-moldy, breastplate, shin guards, along with various tchotchkes that looked like they came from high-schoolers and were a bit too beat up to be faked.

“Arthur, what are you?” I asked. Where anyone else would find it rude, I knew my bluntness would be either appreciated or ignored entirely.

“The Ghost of Classes Past.” He swept into a near-Shakespearen bow, gesturing at the bits and bobs that adorned him. “Humans protect, and we mourn those we could not to ensure they live on in memory.” The thump of the music did not change, but his costume gave it a sepulchral tone, like a dying heartbeat.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, the antlered fox bounced familiarly before looking at the Queen of the Dead. “You did a fantastic job on their costumes! They look amazing!” Her antlers were, of course, somehow illuminated from below, but damn me if I could figure out how.

Despite the fact that I knew damned well that Tyche wanted to erupt into laughter at the suggestion, she managed to, quite impressively, tamp it down to a savage smile of silver fangs and blood-red lips. Flapping a hand at myself, Conor, and Maverick, she gave her bell-like fake-laugh, fully in character. “Oh, I had nothing to do with this. Darling Sophia and her merry toys conceived it all on their own. This is the first time I’ve even seen it, darling.” She turned to me, tipping her chin down in respect. “Well done, dearest sister.” Tyche was on peak display, with kohl lining her glowing grey eyes, a black bodysuit covering her from collar to feet, fitted vest and cardigan vest, all partnered with a skirt that could be ten inches thick or ten miles of ribbon - who knew with all the darting and layers? Not me, but I was surely impressed with what looked like ten miles of black feathers flowing from her waist to her hips.

“Why, thank you, Your Majesty.” I swept my leg back in a daring curtsy, forcing Conor and Maverick to smother their laughter at Jokul and Ivan’s faces.

“Ma’am! Ma’am ma’am ma’am!” Charly demanded as she pulled me upright. “You blushed at the concept of kink night, and here I find you leading your men around by their hips!”

I tossed my hair and winked at Jokul. “They aren’t being led, they are saving me from myself.” To Charly’s credit, I did look one deep breath from embarrassment - a black dress with red trim, sliced from floor to ribs and collar to navel, over what appeared to be just fishnet stockings and cavalier boots. The only thing, visibly, retaining any sort of deceny was the corset sealing me in the dress. To go with it, I sported chunky, silver cuffs chained to both Maverick and Conor. Ducking in, I whispered, “I probably will have to be cut out of this bodysuit, no worries on me flashing anyone.”

“Ooooo… well played, madam, well played,” she cheered, twirling me around, forcing both men to pivot with me, laughing, before giving me a very concerned look. “How fucking tall are those?” This was clearly directed at my heels, which she was staring at like a shark presented with a steak.

“Six,” I admitted. “But I did pointe ballet for a little while, so… This isn’t that bad.”

Maverick ducked into the center of the circle we formed. “They’re a full size too big to allow for swelling and she has the toe boxes lined with impact foam.”

“How the hell else am I supposed to wear these things?” I asked with a glare that had him standing ramrod straight and barely restraining a laugh.

Tyche, to her credit, patted my shoulder. “While sitting. Or, if you have to stand, with a platform in the toe.”

“No shit,” I hissed, setting the mummified healer doubling over in laughter. “But I’ve done enough damage to my feet, thank you, so… there may be foot braces involved.” One of which was currently digging in just in front of my heel, which I made a mental note to pass on to the development team.

A thick, French accent set me shaking my head when it came from the very-not-French looking mummy. “Well played, Sophia. The sling and calf brace design I saw recently get approved by medical?”

I groaned as I realized that of course this was Antoine. Life and Death, forever partnered. “Yesssss,” I hissed. “Grey created the design.” I unzipped one boot down far enough to roll it below my knee, exposing braces above and below the kneecap before running further down. “The weight is distributed throughout the leg, before terminating across the front and back of the arch of the foot, to even out the pressure.”

I could almost see numbers whirling beneath the six-foot-plus candy-pink bowler hat. “That… sounds like it might actually be comfortable,” Coffey intoned. I couldn’t help but grin at the tilt of his hat and the feather arching behind him.

“More comfy than actual heels, yes,” I admitted before deflecting attention as far from me as possible. Which, considering how much weight was normally put on the ball of the foot in heels like this, wasn’t a lie…. “But we aren’t here for this! We’re here for food!”

Cheers erupted, and we set off dragging each other to what bits we had discovered. The theme of the night was firmly set around protein, grilled if possible, with wicks of smoke dancing through the flickering light along with the thump of the music. Some were spicy, others unexpectedly sweet. As I laughed, and ate, and sweated, and danced, I could freely admit that there was exactly zero percent chance that I would have imagined this in my wildest dreams. And even better? I could enjoy every second, every smell, every beat of the music. I made a point to wink at each camera I could spot, to the point that, first Tyche, and then everyone else felt the need to comically push down my thumbs-up and cover my face.

Clearly, Parvati and Hannah, who I hadn’t seen all night, were monitoring what they would later discover to be a flying pass on their final exam.

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#the miys #found family #humans are weird #science fiction #aliens #apocalypse #humans are space orcs #humans are space fae #earth is space australia #post apocalypse #post post apocalypse #original science fiction #original sci fi #original writing

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invaderlynx · 4 years ago

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Booker and La Campagne de Russie

I just watched The Old Guard and honestly, it was one of the best movies I’ve seen in a VERY long time. Of course, now I’m having all sorts of thoughts about the whole thing and particularly about Booker because his backstory intersects perfectly with my historical interests. I know that all the immortals in The Old Guard have experienced all sorts of terrible trauma, but because I am a history major with an affinity for the Napoleonic period, especially the Russian Campaign (and because Booker is my favorite character), I’d like to give you guys an idea of just what sort of torture he faced even before the pain of losing his family (also for fair warning, I have not read the comics):

Please place yourself in Booker’s shoes. You are one of over 600,000 men mustered to march into Russia. You’re serving in an army you never wanted to join, taking up arms for the glory of an empire that’s never done anything for you. You’ve been separated from your three beloved sons and your wife whom you love more than life itself, and have been sent off to fight in a foreign land that’s nothing like the home you’ve left behind. That much becomes evident immediately.

The invasion starts in the summer of 1812 and it is hot, unseasonably hot. You feel it, laboring as you are under the thick heavy materials of your sweat-soaked uniform. Each step is its own torture in the heat as you struggle through mud left behind by hard summer rains. More than a few men kill themselves at this point and although this is just the beginning, you can hardly blame them. Some of your comrades get the bright idea to start discarding some of their extra layers of clothing—underthings and the like. Perhaps you join them, anything to lighten the load. You can’t be expected to carry all this over the long miles ahead. You’ll live to regret that decision.

The fighting itself is worse than the conditions. You never quite get used to the violence. No matter how many times you’re thrust into battle, your mouth still goes dry, your heart still thunders as loud as the military drums’ tattoo, you still choke on that thick gunpowder smoke. You nearly threw up the first time you killed with a bayonet. You remember sticking the man in between the ribs, a swift stab and he is bleeding out. It is only then that you see his face and realize just how young he is. He is a boy, maybe a few precious years older than your eldest. He cries as he falls. You didn’t speak Russian at the time but you didn’t need to to recognize the word “Мама”.

The only thing that makes it possible to keep putting one foot in front of the other (besides your family, of course) is your comrades-in-arms. Against all odds, you’ve found friendship here, men with whom you can share stories and jokes and drinks. You find a few men of around your own age with families, wives and children that they lovingly speak of, but many of these soldiers are young, young enough to be your sons, far too young to be out here slaughtering and being slaughtered. Over your meager meals you tell stories of home and it is enough to hold off the impending horror, at least for a moment. When that doesn’t work, you turn to drink. You drink an awful lot.

The conditions of this foreign land are mercurial at best and your woes are only compounded by your lack of proper supplies. The Russians have been scorching nearly everything in the wake of their retreat, making it difficult for you to forage for food. Your search parties turn up very little by way of provisions and your food supply continues to fall in tandem with the temperature.

Borodino is hell. You see the man to the right of you receive a cannonball to the chest and fall in a spray of red, you see the man to the left crumple as a shot rips through his handsome, hard-lined face. One of your friends, one of those boys that you’d come to regard as a surrogate son who was barely old enough to grow hair on his chin, catches a bullet in the leg. He dies in agony four days later, one of the thousands of casualties of that damned battle. In your lowest moments, you wish you would have joined him.

You were never a particularly happy man, even before the war. Prone to fits of melancholia, they would have said back then. Your darling wife and your three sons certainly helped to alleviate that heavy, aching emptiness that resided in your chest, but it never went away, not fully. It resurfaces with a vengeance now. Sitting with your gun in your hands and far too much liquor in your belly, you think about ending it all. How easy it would be to put a bullet in your brain and finally die. In the end, it’s your family that saves you again. You may not want to live for yourself, but for them- for them you can keep fighting. Besides, Moscow is only 70 miles away and once you take the ancient capital, Russia will have no choice but to surrender. That’s what everyone is saying and you force yourself to believe that it’s true.

Moscow was a lie. You took the capital but there was no peace. There was no food either. The Russians took it all when they abandoned the place, leaving almost nothing for your starving army. Nothing but liquor, which you are very grateful for at least. Your superiors probably aren’t, you think wryly as you raise the bottle to your lips and drink, drink, drink.

Moscow passes in a drunken haze for you. You drown yourself in Russian booze, drinking yourself absolutely insensate. There are entire days you spend propped up against the wall of some ramshackle Russian establishment, surrounded by empty bottles, too drunk to even stand. You remember bits and pieces, shattered memories drifting in and out of the fog. The looting and the things you took (a fine scarf, a silver flask, maybe more), a ladies’ fur shawl wrapped about your shoulders to keep out the chill, the burning heat of a terrible fire and the screams in French and Russian, the acrid taste of bile in your mouth as you splutter sick all over yourself only to raise the bottle to your lips again for another drink. In the end, you’re forced to leave Moscow as the position becomes untenable, the abandoned city burned to a shell of its former self. You never do learn who first started the fire, even years after the fact.

The retreat is hell on Earth, worse than anything else that came before. La Grande Armée is hardly an army any longer, you’ve lost practically all discipline. By now, you’re just a bunch of exhausted, cold, starving men who want nothing more than to just make it home alive. Most of them won’t. The temperatures have dropped to below freezing at this point and you are wishing more than anything that you still had those infernal layers that caused you so much pain in the summer months. The clothing you and your comrades drunkenly plundered in Moscow—silken scarves stolen from abandoned trunks, heavy furs pilfered from store inventories, ladies’ shoes that hurt your feet but do a better job of keeping out the slush than your tattered boots—help, but not enough. Your fingers stiffen to near icicles in the cold as you try your damnedest to massage even a little warmth back into them, your face is wind-chapped and scabbed. You feel as though your very marrow has frozen, and you are one of the lucky ones. Men freeze to death in their sleep in less than an hour. Fifty men will sit down at a fire and only the twenty or so closest will ever get back up again. You all begin to loot the bodies of the dead and—as you grow more desperate—the dying as well. Corpses are stripped naked and left in the snow as the survivors squabble over their threadbare uniform pieces. Sometimes the corpses still twitch and moan but you try to ignore that.

There’s no food either. In addition to freezing, you’re starving too. The lot of you fight and quarrel over moldy crusts of bread, and in some cases even kill each other for them. The more clever turn to other sources to fill their writhing, empty stomachs. Some eat their boots, but there isn’t much leather left in any case. Some carve their meals off the horses as they walk, tearing bits of bleeding flesh off of the warm, moving flanks in a short-sighted attempt to get even a few morsels of meat in their bellies. Others, in mad desperation as the march (if you can even call it that any longer) wears on, turn to each other.

Perhaps you take part in this, perhaps you don’t. Perhaps you sidle a man out of the way to get closer to the fire, perhaps you take a coat off a corpse that you don’t know for sure is dead yet, perhaps you accept a piece of meat that you do not quite know the origin of. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps…

In the end it doesn’t matter. You die anyway. You don’t really remember how it happened the first time. Maybe you were finally picked off by the advancing Russians, maybe it was exposure, exhaustion, starvation, sickness, any of the hundred ways that you could die in this frozen wasteland. All you know is that one moment you were on your feet, shambling mutely forward, the next you were lying on the icy ground, gasping air back into lungs that had fallen completely still. Four faces are burned into your memory and from one you can still hear the gurgling, watery screams.

That’s when the dreams start, after that first death. Though, you wouldn’t classify them as dreams, they’re far more alike to nightmares. You see that screaming, drowning woman often. You feel her fear as she slams her body against her metal coffin. Even awake you can’t get the sound of her choking out of your head. Sometimes there are soft moments interspersed with the horror. You see a woman with short hair (it reminds you of a coiffure à la victime) laughing, you see two men resting in each others’ arms, foreheads pressed together gently, blissfully happy. To be quite honest, these ones hurt worst of all because they make you regret ever waking up.

You die a few more times before you finally decide to desert. You can’t take it anymore. That tyrant Bonaparte has abandoned this army, why can’t you? You take flight under the cold cover of night, trying to get to the Russian border. You don’t make it very far. You are dragged back—aching, tired, and hungry—and are hanged by the road as a deserter. Perhaps there still is a little discipline left in these ranks, at least enough to allow these soldiers to kill their comrades in the name of orders. You have to wait three days for the road to clear before you can finally run. In that time your body is almost entirely picked clean by looters. You continue your desperate trek back home in spite of it all and die many more times in the weeks (or was it months?) that follow. It never gets any easier.

It’s near the border into Prussia that you finally meet one of the figures from your dreams. Perhaps it is the woman with the short hair who offers you a drink and a coat to put around your shoulders, and tells you bluntly but not unkindly that you’re immortal. Perhaps it is the curly-haired man who helps hold you upright when you stumble and is careful and caring with his words as he gently explains the situation. Perhaps it is his lighter-haired lover who catches you when you fold in on yourself from the weight of his words and offers you affirmations and condolences in a voice reminiscent of a priest. Whoever it is, they ask you to come with them and explain that there are others like them- like you out there.

“What about my family?” you stutter out, almost unconscious of the words as the tumble from your mouth “My wife? What about them?”

They favor you with a sad smile and try to explain, but you will hear none of it. They do not stop you when you tell them that you are going home, and you are glad for it.

With the supplies they give to you, you manage to hobble your way back home. You’ve been taken for a dead man, you realize, everyone you pass seems to think you’re a ghost. You don’t care. You only have one person on your mind.

Your wife answers the door dressed in black. She starts to cry when she sees you and throws her arms around your neck. You nearly crumple, weak as you are. “Bastien, Bastien,” she sobs against your shoulder “What happened?”

That question fills you with icy dread. Your stomach drops as you realize you cannot explain to her what you’ve been through, not in a way that she’ll understand. Even if you explain the immortality and she believes you, she won’t understand the horrors you’ve seen. No one will. A soldier’s burden.

You stay silent and instead cradle her closer as your boys appear in the doorway. You have them and, for now, that is enough. You won’t forget, you will never forget, but for now at least you have this.

#there we go #i made myself sad #you see what this poor bastard had to go through #it does not excuse what he did #not in the slightest #but it explains why he wants to die at least #there are very few things that i would want to go through less than the russian campagne #the old guard #tog #sebastien le livre #booker #andromache the scythian #yusef al kaysani #niccolo di genova #quynh

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heliosthegriffin · 4 years ago

Text

Farmer Jaune #1

AN: here’s a little background for you people, places, or things, I love Stardew Valley... That’s all.

Summary: Jaune takes a bet with his father that if he can get the old family farm up in running he’ll have shown enough dedication to be a huntsman.

Forteen year old Jaune stood in front of ‘The Club’ at lunch time carrying large crate of assorted fruits on his left shoulder for this Junior guy to try, while in his right he played on his scroll while the two bouncers out front refused to let him in.

Sure, he could barge in, but that’d be rude and create a bad impression on a potential buyer. So the stuck up suits could glare at him all they wanted, he’d wait till Junior saw him or picked up his scroll, or they finally let him in.

Huh, who knew Spruce Willis liked to garden, another reason to look to the guy as a man among men.

The two suits kept a steady glare on the boy with bangs covering the his right eye, only leaving a single blue orb to stare at his scroll. He was all lean muscle, tanned skin, and sun-bleached hair package up in a dirt stained tee and blue jeans.

They’re were sure that they could take him, and there were no notices about a fruit shipments, so they were ready to put down a scam-artist if they had too. Though, if he was a scam-artist he really was easy going.

“So, ‘Mr. Arc’,” One of the suits said as sarcastically as possible.

“Just Jaune.” Jaune said boredom, hoping Junior wasn’t messing with him, if he was he’d have to sic dad on him.

The guards snicker. “Ok Just Jaune,” Jaune rolls his single visible eye. “What do you got in the crate?” “Are you mugging me? Because if you are that’s just lame, it’s a crate full of fruit, how poor are you if need to mug a man for fruit? Delicious, juicy fruit sure, but just fruit.” Jaune say rapid-fire without looking up from him scroll.

The suit who spoke up went flush with anger at the insinuation, he worked for the damn mob! He made very good illegal money! He didn’t even recorded it to the irs that’s how bad he was!

Suit two just snickered at his friend. “I think what my buddy meant was what do have in the box to sell to the boss, and why do you think he’d buy from you over importing from Mistral or bulk buying from the Agri-Dis?”

Jaune rolled his eye again. “For the fourth time he asked me to bring him a crate, which I would have delivered to him by now, and gotten some lunch to if you two lumper didn’t get in the way.”

“And for the fourth time your not on the list, so try sell us on your product and we might let you in!” The first suit said exsperated. “Also why not just eat some produce?”

Jaune shrugged. “Same reason, I’m going to refuse to sell any to you two right now, cause I have things called standards. I always include a little extra on the orders so that people know their appreciated! If I took that away, it’d ruin the magic!”

Jaune then said with a smile, “That said if you’re interested, I can give my website to place an order, and little peak of the goods too.” Jaune said wiggling an eyebrow.

The second suit let out a tired sigh, knowing that this would be long day already. “Ok, back to my second question first, why would anyone buy from you some dirty looking kid from outside the city walls, instead of the nice clean stalls at the Agri-Dis? Also, I make good money wouldn’t I just import good food from Mistral or Vacuo?”

“Ok, find you’ve worn me down fine. Ok first, the Agric-Dis’s food is abysmal grown for two thing!” Jaune said putting away his scroll, and then holding up two finger making them glow with the light of his soul, making both guards jump at the realization this boy was also a hunter in training. “Bulk production, and fast regrowth speed, they inject Earth dust into the soil to make it more fertile, and genetically mod the plants so they grow as fast as possible and big as possible with account for taste! Which to be fair isn’t a bad thing, the city is overpopulated as is, and the Agri-Dis needs to feed everyone, and neither dust usage or gene mods are intrinsically bad, just that bulk produce doesn’t always taste as good as growing something with love and care!”

The two suits inched back in shock at Jaunes passionate rant, and the first suit recovered faster and asked. “Alright, you’ve made a good point. But what about outsourcing production to Mistral or Oasis in Vacuo? They’re food is really good!”

Jaune held a finger as he regained his breath.

“Ok, that’s a fair point, Vacuo has a warmer climate than Vale so it’s easier to grow more crop in season there in certain areas, and Mistral has the same benefit, but, it’s not the food that bad but the prices, and time you have to wait in between shipments.”

The suits leaned in with interest.

“This also has a couple problems, compared to my products.” Jaune holding up his free hand, letting it glow freely to attract the suits attention. “First, is the price you’d paying is roughly three time as much as my own for virtually the same product.” Jaune said slowly and methodically, letting it sink into the mens minds, he’d never let a potential customer get away, even if they were goons.

“Second is bidding, when you order from out of kingdom your have to compete with everyone else who wants that food, which also is reason the price is higher they can afford to hike it because it’s in demand, so since it’s in demand that means people want it, which implies scarcity, so even if you place an order there no garuntee that they’ll have any left for you.“ “I never thought of that way when I saw the restock sign...” “Most people don’t, in fact most people don’t care about the quality of the food long as it’s good and edible. So like I said limited supply, right? Well, right now I have tons of food to sell, I won’t be running out either,” Jaune said with a smirk, “but for how long? Anyway, another problem if your foods coming from outside the kingdom means that it’s coming outside the kingdom, this is two probelm. One, you’re weakening the local market, while strengthening foreign market, and you don’t want freaking Vacuo to be stronger than Vale in anyway right?” Jaune asked slyly.

“No..”

“The other problems with outsourcing from out of kingdom, is the shorter shelf lift, shipping takes time, you know this, you’re smart guys right?”Jaune asked the men, who quickly nodded. “Well, you should know that caravans only come so often, there could be month in-between you ordering your product and actually getting it! So your food could be moldy and black!”

The suits looked at each other, remembering the bosses fits of rage about a ruined order of fruit, and their own bad experiences with outsourcing. Conveinently forgeting this only happened once or twice, out of the hundreds of times they’ve ordered.

Jaune continued, “The final problem is it’s outside the kingdom anything can happen! Bandits, grimm, White Fang, Then Bam!” Jaune punctuating by slamming his hand against the crate. “You just lost three hundred lien by ordering from freaking Vacuo, what the hell you’d expect from ordering from those them, it’s all gone now! And it’s all your fault from ordering from Vacuo!” Jaune said quickly, and almost out of breath.

The men scowled at the idea of letting Vacuo pull a fast one on proud Valemen like themselves.

“Now, on the other hand my produce is loved and cared for only a mere half hour away in hunter protected settlement of Stardew Valley. Barring in-climate weather, or Grimm, I will have your product, if it’s ready for shipping out, to you within a week or you get the shipping free! Bam!” Jaune slammed his hand on the box again. “You just cut your grocery bill by a two-thirds!”

Silence then filled the gap again.

“So, did I answer you gentlemen’s questions?” Jaune asked with a slightly sore throat.

“I think I’ll be taking a look at your scrollsite later today,” The second suit said, then smiles thinly. “I just hope you’re not exaggerating, but regardless you got me rethinking my spending habits!”

The men and boy let out a little chuckle.

“Alright how about I let you two see what it’s in the crate to see proof of product.” Jaune said easing the crate on two the ground, easily being twice as wide as his waist, and coming up to his torso.

The men gave a shrug.

Jaune undid the latch on the crate and opened it up, assulting the men with sweet, starchy, and delcious smells of produce, their mouths involuntarily starting to water at the sight of fresh cherries, ripe melons, golden-yellow corn, full and juicy blackberries, tart and sweet blueberries, the spicy red hot peppers, ripe to bursting tomatos, and the most robust coffee they’ve ever smelt.

Jaune then slammed the lid closed a minute later, and put the crate onto his shoulder.

“Arc! What are you doing here? I told you to meet me at noon, and I’d meet you at the Club, not for you to wait for me outside the Club for an hour.”

“Dad say “If you’re early you’re on time, if you’re on time you’re late, if you’re late, everybody’s dead and you’ve lost your huntsman license.”

“Whatever, just follow me in, and we’ll hash out the deal today.” Junior looked at his men. “I’m not mad, you did well.”

“I’m not mad either, just bored.” Jaune said slipping in.

.....

“So, you wanna go half in, on a order?” “Why not? All that talking got me hungry.”

#Jaune Arc #Farmer Jaune AU #I have no idea about economics #I just typed what ever to feel smart #I have no regrets.#Junior #Stardew Valley

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vanillawinston · 4 years ago

Text

Mad World| Chapter ONE

Joker x OC(Jane Parker)

Summary: Jane was in the wrong place at the wrong time and suddenly her life was falling apart. The past and future of a dangerous obsession which changed his life and destroyed hers completely.

Warning for this chapter: angst, mention of torture, depressive mood

Next Part HERE

Lost. I was lost and I'll always stay lost. There was no place for people like me. They thought the right place should be here, in this cell, but it wasn't. I would always stay lost, homeless, hopeless.

Lonely I couldn't do anything but look at the grey wall of concrete in front of me, just like I did it every day for the last two years. After all this time I've started to believe the wall might has changed, that the color got darker, it didn't look that moldy anymore, but to be honest, nothing has changed. I was the only one who has changed.

I was broken. They have broken me. This life has broken me. Piece by piece it has taken everything from me until nothing had been left, it put me through this painful and horrible hell and now I was here, been treated like a threat, like I was crazy, mad, something I'm not. But how much can a life in complete isolation for two years change someone? I've never seen anything else than the guards or some professors who thought it would be funny, to explore my head. I've forgotten how fresh air smells, how the lovely song of the birds outside sounds, how green a forest can look alike and how delicious good food can taste. I've forgotten so many things and it seemed hopeless to ever escape this endless torture of nothing.

"Hey, little one." I looked up when I heard the squeal of the little window made out of steel open where the guards shoved me some food every day through, or whatever they dared to call food. Now I saw to the amused face of my personal guard, Officer cocksucker, that is what I've named him. His real name was Dan, but he was such a piece of shit that he had no right to be called anything nice or normal. He had the most fun in torturing me and always being an assaulting, woman hating bastard through the time. When I'll ever come out of here, he will be the first person I will kill by cold blood!

Coldly I looked to the man, who was in his mid-thirties, had short blonde hair and cold blue eyes. The eyes of the devil in my opinion.

"I've brought you some food," he said, and I snorted, looked back to my beloved wall. I've refused to eat anything for four days now. They won't allow me to die, but this didn't mean I would stop trying. I couldn't handle being in here for another two years or more. I knew that I would never be free, that they would never let me be free. If I was innocent or not, didn't matter to them, I was too valuable for them, knew too much, they couldn't and wouldn't just let me go. They were the real criminals of this city. They were cruel, they were merciless.

"You are really trying to ignore me, little one? I can see how hungry you are and some day you have to eat, darling." I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of spending attention to him in any way, so I kept ignoring him.

"As you wish, but I've just tried to protect you from any harm. Bring her out of here!" Scared I looked to the door when he opened it, saw how six brawny guys entered the cell and I jumped to my feet, was ready to defend myself, to fight, but I was weak, so damn weak. I just managed it to hit one of them in his face when I got a slap in my own so hard that everything started to spin around me. Tears formed in my eyes when they cuffed me and Officer cocksucker threw me over his shoulder like I was some toy, like I was nothing but some thing he could transport around like he pleased to.

"I hate you!" I hissed, moved around as much as I could, wanted to make it as hard as possible for him to carry me, knowing it would be painful to fall to the ground like this, but I didn't care. "I know you love me," he laughed amused and I fidget with my legs, screamed and shouted, just wanted to be far away from him. Of all people on earth he was the one who had the least right to touch me in any way. I just couldn't stand him touching me, preferred falling to the ground and breaking every single bone in my body over being touched by him ever again.

"Let me go!" I screamed, saw how some other prisoners looked out of their open windows in the doors to us and I was searching for one face among them, the face of Floyd. He was the only friend I had here, though we only had seen each other in here not more than three times. I met him some months ago when a guard was torturing him and me at the same time. He was kind, tried to protect me from this monster. In his eyes it was shocking how someone like me could be in a place like this. He saw me as this fragile little girl, a child.

Yeah one needed to have a lot of bad luck to end up here or maybe it was good luck, considering the beginning of my story. I had no idea if this was my personal luck, but if so, I had to be a horrible person in my earlier life, that is for sure.

"Shut up or your punishment will be a lot of worse!" the douchebag screamed, but I don't care. It didn't matter how weak I was, I would never show it to him. If he knew that I gave up, then I would truly be lost, he would be my downfall.

"JANE!" I looked up and smiled, saw to Floyd while passing by his cell. It was a good and calming feeling to see someone you actually cared about, who was important to you. It made me realize, that I wasn't alone, that he was here, even if I had to survive this on my own.

"FLOYD!" I screamed sobbing, was scared of what will happen, was scared of getting hurt again, suffered enough and just wanted to have some peace. This time I had no luck with a Floyd by my side who would try to keep me safe. I was alone in the torture room. It was me against the rest of the world and I wasn't strong enough for it anymore.

"Let go of the child you fucking assholes!" I heard him screaming, but his voice faded away when we kept moving. Will this nightmare ever find an ending? I knew most of the guys in here were horrible villains, murderer, but after all I've been through, I was sure that nobody deserved this. Even the Arkham had been a better place, and I knew about what I was talking about.

"Now he will have to suffer too and that is only on you, darling," the bastard said amused and I stopped fighting. It wouldn't change anything. This was a fight without any hope of winning. I lost it two years ago already, and now I will probably lose my sanity too if it wasn't already too late for it.

The acquaintance with the chair I was tied to was one I've made a long time ago. When I first got here all this time ago, I was tortured on it almost daily, just out of fun. Batman personally wanted that they would treat me good and nice, but of course nobody cared enough. I wasn't important enough for anyone, and even the all so perfect Batman forgot about me. In the end I was still a criminal and criminals deserve to be punished. When he had brought me here, I've seen that he didn't saw me as a threat, but he knew it wasn't safe enough to let me free, and this is how I ended up here. In the past I tried my best to behave, to be good, so they will eventually let me go or transfer me over to an ordinary prison, but after some weeks I've realized, they would never let me go, the would always find another reason for hurting me.

"You know I don't like doing this," the bastard said while kneeling in front of me, "But you don't give me another choice." It was hard staying calm, while he stroked my face softly, tried not to shiver or to throw up. He was disgusting. When he stood up and walked over to one of the shelves where all the funny toys for torture were paced on, I felt how my heart started beating faster and how cold sweat spread on my forehead. I tried not to die internally out of fear, but I knew that whatever would happen now, it will hurt. I will scream, I will cry, and I will beg him to stop, but he won't. It was always like this, and I tried to tell myself, that the pain wasn't that bad anymore after all this time, but it was a lie. It still hurt, but it was more bearable, considering I knew what will happen, how bad it will be.

"I start to believe she likes being treated like this," the cocksucker laughed dirty while he put some wires on my body. Electricity. Oh yeah, this will be painful. I ignored the other guards and how they laughed over Dan's dirty jokes, tried to distract myself by thinking about a free future where I will find all of them and kill them one after one. This never had been my way of thinking, but this place has changed me truly.

"Ready to enjoy your pain?" Another guard asked me, standing by the switch and was excited to flip it and to see me suffer.

"When I get out of here, I won't just kill you, but your whole family, and I will force you to watch," I said with a dry throat and for a second he seemed nervous, but it didn't last long, he knew I won't ever get out.

"Not so rude, darling," Dan said, was ready to give the signal, but before he could do that, the doors opened and shocked I saw to the guards, leading no one else than Amanda Waller into the room.

"You fucking bitch," I mumbled quietly, could not believe, she was here, looked at her completely confused. I hadn't seen her for two years, since I've been locked up here and now, she was back. Back then she had promised me, I would only be locked up for a couple of days. Liar.

"Free her!" Amanda ordered and I saw how unhappy Dan was, while he freed me from this chair.

"Oh the hero of our nation is here," I giggled, tried to stand up, but my bloodstream was really fucked up and I almost fell to the ground when it wasn't for another guard who held me, although he didn't really looked like a guard, something was different about him.

"Thank you," I mumbled, teared away from him, and looked hatefully to the woman in front of me.

"I see, you haven't forgotten who I am."

"You are the cunt who had promised me that I will be free after some days, but instead I am here for two fucking years and have been treated like I'm crazy!" I hissed and saw how the man who had helped me looked confused to her. "Who is this girl? What is so special about her?"

"This is Jane Parker. She might seem harmless and innocent, but you will see how useful and dangerous she can be." Saying this she eyed me, then looked to Dan, "What have you done to her? Why is this child more dead than alive?" "She won't eat," Dan answered simply.

"And then you want to torture her?" the man asked in shock, saw to all the other guards here like they were crazy. Finally, someone who understood me.

"Methods of chastise," Dan said, and I laughed. "Yeah, they are very effective."

"You said she was a child. Why on earth is a child locked up here?" he asked upset, "And how can a child be useful for this mission?" "Mission?" I asked interested, but of course they ignored me.

"She isn't a child anymore. She is 19 but was 17 when we locked her up, and she is useful, because she was the favorite toy of the Joker," she explained and I flinched, felt like something inside of me ripped a little bit when she mentioned his name.

"The Joker... but Harley..."

"Harley Quinn is nothing compared to her, even though you should probably not mention it in front of Quinn, she thinks just like the Joker that Jane here is dead," Waller explained and I tried my best not to lose my mind with all those emotions inside of me. All this time I've managed it not to think about him, just for this bitch to show up and ruin it.

"Ok, but what exactly can this girl do?" the man asked still confused.

"She is good in close combat, the best person in throwing knives you will ever see, and her way of thinking is kind of useful." Her way of thinking. Wow, what a compliment.

"I have no idea, what all of this is about, but I won't do shit. I prefer staying here and dying," I said and saw how the woman smiled. "You will do as I say, and we can talk about your release once again," she said and to my dislike she kind of baited me with her words. I looked to Dan who went pale form her words and I smiled happily.

"I'm in."

"Stop, stop, stop," the man said. "What is it, Flagg?" Flagg? Interesting name.

"None of the others will be released, why her? She was the Joker's girl, isn't she extremely dangerous? I've seen Harley. You can't let her go."

"She was with him, and is dangerous, but still she was never found guilty." "And still I am here," I said amused and found the confusing look of this Flagg adorable. He didn't understand half of the things here, but he didn't have to. I didn't understand them either.

"She'd been locked up to weaken the Joker, and it worked, they've gotten him and brought him to the Arkham, but he escaped, thanks to his talent in manipulating Harley Quinn," Waller said and seemed like she had more than enough from this topic, "She only remained here, because we had no idea of how useful she might become one day, just like now. So, we have Deal." She looked strict to me and I nodded. Nothing would be easy, not at all, but there was finally this small chance of getting out of here and hope can be a bitch, but I don't care, I wanted to get out of here and this was my best shot.

Aloha :) Hope you liked the first real chapter. Sorry for any grammar or editing mistakes. Tell me if you like to be tagged. GIF IS NOT MINE

#joker #jared leto #jared leto joker #suicide squad #dc #joker x reader #joker fanfiction #dc fandome #the joker

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make-it-mavis · 4 years ago

Text

Homesick (Entry #33)

(cw: discussion of addiction) ----------

01/21/88 3:30 PM

Hey.

So… therapy.

Therapy, therapy, therapy.

If you were here, you’d no doubt want to hear how it went. Or how it didn’t go. How much I botched it, or what garbage mumbo jumbo it was. I wouldn’t blame you. Me, going to counselling? Group counselling? No way.

But I would also tell you to hold your horses, because before therapy came detox. Oh, yes. Me and my good friend, withdrawals. Not fun to hear about, I know. Less fun to experience.

I won’t get into the nitty gritty of how sick I was. I’ve described it enough times by now. Let’s just say that it was twice as bad as the worst withdrawals I had ever had before. It had all the usual intense illness, but peppered with little blackouts. I also practically went insane over the need for GC. But, being confined to my game, there was no way to get any. Fix-it endured a whole lot of my screaming and breakdowns… again. At some point he took away my brush for my own good, and as outraged as I was, I think that mostly snapped me out of it from then on out. I could have my brush as long as I stayed calm. I was being treated like a freakin’ child, but I had to just roll with it. I was too weak to fight him, and I couldn’t be without buffs and without my brush.

As I started to come to my senses, I began to remember and understand the memory that I saw in my trip more and more. But what was strange to me was that I could hardly manage to feel anything over it. I knew for sure that those memories were packed full of emotions that could have wrecked me. But at the time, I felt numb to them. As if they just weren’t a priority compared to all else I’d been dealing with. The whole concept of counselling was taking up a whole lot of space in my brain, and I guess I could only feel so much at once. I suppose I ought to have felt thankful for that, but honestly, I felt kind of guilty.

Why? I don’t know. Maybe I felt like you deserved to have someone hurting over you, even though I’d already offered up so much pain. And even though I knew I still had more to give.

Still, slowly but surely, I recovered. It took the full two weeks for me to fully detox. Even then, I wasn’t at 100%. I was, maybe, 85%. I wasn’t shivering and throwing up anymore, but I still felt like a damp, moldy rag.

It was around that point that I finally told Fix-it that I would try counselling.

I think he tried his best to play it cool so that I wouldn’t be embarrassed out of my decision by his enthusiasm, but I could tell he was overjoyed. Not disappointing him for once felt… different.

He went to tell Surge as promised, and he came back with a little pamphlet about the program for me to look over leading up to the first session. Just looking at the thing nearly turned me off from the idea, and actually opening it up and reading it was… so much worse.

The program seemed to be built upon twelve ‘steps’ (hurdles, more like): Honesty, Hope, Surrender, Courage, Integrity, Willingness, Humility, Love, Responsibility, Discipline, Awareness, and Service.

Yeah. That’s a lot of gross words.

As if that wasn’t enough on its own, so many descriptions for these supposed steps were so explicitly Devout, like my faith in the Devs would be what pulled me through this whole thing. Reading it, I almost wondered if I was being tricked into some kind of cult, or enlisted in some kind of military conditioning. Everything about it screamed that I would not fit in. At all. It wouldn’t work, I’d just humiliate myself, and I’d be locked up for two years anyway.

I wanted to quit. Really badly.

But one thought of Tapper was all it would take to guilt me back into it.

When I was ready as I’d ever be, I met Surge in our cord station, and he let me know just how things were going to work. Sessions were on Tuesdays and Fridays from 10:30 PM ‘til midnight, and they would be held in the center of Pac-Man. Yeah, Pac-Man, where some of the best GC is, and where I had my last hit that had been so devastating. I pointed out the bad decision to Surge, and he assured me that he was aware of the risks. He had a few volunteer guards attending all the meetings, making sure no one slipped into the maze to get high. Besides, the whole thing was run by that little orange ghost, Clyde. Why? I don’t know. I guess he’s a philanthropist or something. But keeping him in his own game seemed like the safest option on his part, which seemed fair.

I still think it was stupid.

Surge would escort me to and from the meetings, but I would go in alone. He has too much work to do to sit in on a group therapy session for an hour and a half. But then he told me the worst part -- I could not bring my brush and paint can to the meetings. My tools were to remain in my game. They were considered weapons, which, in the right context, they can be. That much was fair. Less fair was the fact that when too much distance is put between me and my tools, my code gets stretched out. I glitch, I get very, very uncomfortable, and am definitely put in a far less receptive state to counselling that I already don’t want to attend. I explained as much to Surge, including the fact that my brush didn’t even have its full spectrum at the time, but it was no use. Defective or not, I’m too powerful with my brush.

It would have been flattering if it didn’t suck so damn much.

But, I agreed to it. I just wanted to get it all over with. It felt so humiliating and futile. I’ve never been the sort to tolerate being locked in with a bunch of losers blubbering about their feelings, or whatever the hell. I automatically reject pretty much any and all advice, just by reflex. I could not imagine having someone tell me what to do about deeply personal, painful feelings and having it help literally anything. Knowing me, it might have just made it worse.

Yet, despite all that, there was a very real, very conscious part of me that was willing to give it a real shot. I was almost at the end of my rope, just holding onto fraying strands. I wanted to get better, I really did.

So I went into this experience holding onto that will like a lifeline.

Surge escorted me to Pac-Man that night, and, obviously, I went in alone. Inside, right off the train, there were these two big army guys from Front Line waiting at the entrance of the maze. Seemed like a good choice for guards, with how beefy they are. They walked with me into the dark maze, and as we wove through the bends and corners, I just kept thinking about how easily I could drop both of them and run off for a sweet hit of GC if I had my brush. Which just validated Surge’s decision to ban my tools, I guess.

We arrived at the conference room, and my burly chaperones opened the doors to show me in. When I entered, I jumped. Everyone was already there. A group of around nine or ten sat in a circle, and all eyes among them were fixed on me. Along with the eyes of that little orange ghost himself.

“Make-it Mavis,” he called calmly. “Welcome.”

I did not feel particularly welcome, not with the nervous looks and spiteful glares pointed my way. I just stood there, waiting to be told what to do. I was not interested in pleasantries. I just wanted to do the work and go.

Sensing that, Clyde nodded to an empty chair next to him. “Come, sit. Don’t be shy.”

I wanted to throw a retort at him, but I just went with it. Every time I got the urge to screw it all up, I remembered Tapper, and hot shame in my belly put me back in line. I had to do everything I could to ensure that I would never do something like what I did to his game again. I had already spent too long thinking your blood was on my hands. I did not need to throw someone else’s into the mix.

I walked into the fluorescent-lit meeting room and took my seat, and noted immediately that the space around it was far more generous than anyone else was getting, like even the chairs were scared of me. I felt so low, so hot, so embarrassed. I was in a massive hole that I’d tunneled my own way into, putting me on the same level as all those other miserable suckers. I was only there because I had been too weak to stop myself from taking my last buff. I couldn’t stop berating myself over it all. I was lethargic, sweating, ashamed, with my code stretched clear across the arcade. At least the cold metal chair felt pretty good on my feverish ass. I had that going for me.

“Alright, everybody,” Clyde addressed the group in a non-threatening voice, “let’s open up this evening by welcoming our newest member, Make-it Mavis.”

Silence. There were a few hesitant murmurs, so quiet that I definitely would not have heard them if the room was not already silent as the grave.

“Come on now,” Clyde prompted gently. “Say hello, everyone.”

I folded my arms and sighed. “They all knew I was coming,” I grumbled to Clyde, before saying to the group, “Yeah, I know. I’m here. And you don’t like it. Well, TS, ‘cause neither do I. Better learn to deal with it.”

“Actually,” Clyde responded, “there is some truth in what you’re saying, Mavis. None of us wanted to find ourselves in these situations, but everyone in this group did. And maybe we don’t understand each other as well as we could, but that’s just because we don’t know each other’s stories. That’s why we share them here, so we can recognize that addiction arises from a feeling that all living beings share -- pain. We are stronger against pain when we are united, rather than divided.”

There were a few appreciative claps. I wanted to blow my brains out.

“Everyone did know you were coming,” he told me. “But why don’t you give us an introduction in your own words? Maybe let us know why you’re here?”

He was already placing way too much trust in me. Still, I sighed loudly and stood, looking out over the group. Some were big, some were small, most I’d seen in passing, but all were looking at me with full understanding of who I was. An introduction felt superfluous and quite daunting at that point.

"You…" I said slowly, leading into a sigh. "You all know. Or you think you know. There's no point. Just-- just forget it and get this rollin', okay?"

I sat down.

There was no applause, not even awkward and scattered. There was only silence, while some glared at me and others squirmed anxiously. Even Clyde was silent for a moment, but I could see him studying me out of my peripheral.

He then spoke as pleasantly as ever, “You’re not feeling ready to share. That’s alright. Everyone’s expected to participate, but we go at our own pace. Remember that there are no judgments here, and nothing leaves this room.” He then addressed the group, “Why don’t we welcome our newest member with our own introductions? We’ll go clockwise from my left.”

The introductions began, and I made a painful effort to listen. For the most part, they seemed to be the same basic sob story. The unplugging on the 7th put the fear of Litwak in them, and buffs were the only way to escape the existential horrors they had been plunged into. It was supposed to make me feel welcome, but it seemed to just piss me off. It felt like a punishment. I was supposed to sit in a room with a bunch of random losers and pretend we were going through the same thing. All of them could go home after the meeting and have a life waiting for them in the morning. They had roles. They had purpose. They probably still had plenty of sprites who loved them. I didn’t see how I could stand to benefit from the same treatment as sprites who had not gone through the hell I did. Sprites who could walk down Game Central free from harassment or attempts on their life. Who were not being blamed for a tragedy they had nothing to do with. Whose dead best friend was not being remembered as the most hated, corrupt, murderous sprite in history, while they barely had the space to mourn.

But as they carried on, I began to hear things I didn't understand. There was grief in their voices. Some said that buffs were their only escape from how much they missed someone. They talked about loved ones and game mates being lost to the 'Roadblasters incident,' and at the time, it made no sense to me. Up until that point, I thought that you, the twins, and all of Roadblasters were the only casualties. But according to these sprites, some were 'mowed down,' 'caught in the blast,' or even 'burned to death.' Apparently, you'd killed a handful of innocent bystanders somehow, which is… I mean, I’m not gonna lie to you.

That’s horrible.

Obviously, I remembered none of it. Well, I thought I didn’t. But there were things buried in my brain that burned like coals with every story that came. My mind didn't feel right, like it was suddenly struggling against the hold of reality, desperate to fly into another time. I felt so distressed by what I was hearing, so physically ill, that my sensitive, stretched-out code glitched slightly. Not enough for anyone to notice, but enough for my hand to clip into the seat of my chair where I was gripping.

That was just what I needed. Another way to humiliate myself. It kept me distracted from the harrowing stories, at least, as I tried to find a subtle way to tug my hand out of the pixels of the chair.

Then... she spoke.

The sound of one of the group member's voices startled me so deeply that my hand glitched free again. Her voice was not abrupt or loud or frightening -- in fact, it was fairly low, just a smoky, raspy mutter. But I felt it wriggle down into the crevices of my brain, trying to connect with a memory.

I looked at her, but it did not help much at first. I had never seen her before, as far as I could recall. She was a bipedal insect creature, modestly bigger than me, with a dull, lavender carapace and yellow wings folded behind her. She had huge red eyes that took up most of her head, but her tiny slit pupils never seemed to look my way. I still remember exactly what she said.

"My name's Worluk, and I'm an addict," she said, as if she had said it many times before. "Senseless violence killed a sprite I considered a sister. I can't just accept a reality where that's allowed to happen. Where someone so innocent can just die and there's nothing I can do about it. Everything's wrong. There's nothing I wouldn't do to make it right. Buffs took the edge off, but… they didn’t end up righting any wrongs."

As she spoke, I watched her serrated teeth and mandibles move, and stared at her weird spindly fingers that gave me some disembodied, distant ache. I knew her voice, I swore I did. But it sounded off-key. Out of context.

She finished her speech, "Committing crimes alone is one thing, but, then I got my friends involved and, y’know… that’s on me."

Then it hit me. It hit me like an ice-cold tidal wave made of everything I'd been through, everything that had led me to that moment. The nightmares. The trips. The echoing voice in my head that blamed me for your death. I should have recognized that voice the second I heard it.

It was hers.

My attacker, the ringleader of the attempt on my life in Dragon's Lair, that sick, disgusting psychopath who broke my brush and carved your name into my skin, was sitting just across the room from me.

The blood in my veins froze. My heart clenched. I could feel every sick, weak muscle in my body tighten with intent to spring, like an animal with prey in its sights. I stared at her, and she finally met my gaze coolly.

I thought getting through counselling was going to be hard before. I had no idea.

#fanfiction #fanfic #wreck it ralph #make it mavis #original character #homesick

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reaganjenelle · 4 years ago

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Louder Than Words

An Anders x OC soulmate AU nobody asked for, but didn't know they needed.

Hi there, possible reader! I'm reaganjenelle. I can tell you're on the fence about reading this Fan fiction. Don't worry, you're not alone. I promise that if you try it, there's a strong possibility that you'll enjoy what you find. So, why don't you kick back, relax, and try something new? Enjoy.

Word Count: 2,284

Chapter 1. Kirkwall

Kirkwall, quite frankly, smelled like piss. Julia had half a mind to simply get back on the ship a return to Fereldan, blight be damned. But she wouldn't. Elric was here and now so was she. Julia took a moment to stretch her cramped muscles before slipping off the cargo ship unnoticed. The journey across the sea had been spent hiding amongst the crates and dodging the crew. It wasn't that she wasn't willing to pay for safe passage. She had, in fact, approached the captain about paying to be smuggled into the city. He was just too far up the Maker's arse to agree. Hadn't thought her coin was worth the risk of being caught. Little did he know Julia had hitched a ride anyway, and he was short the gold he would have had. Not to mention the captain was now convinced one of his crew members had been sneaking extra rations.

The docks were crowded with sweaty workers shoving past each other. It took little effort for the rouge to blend in. Everyone was too busy minding the cargo to pay a lone woman any mind. The first thing Julia decided she needed was to find a hot meal and a stiff drink. A surly looking man grunted directions to her for a tavern in Lowtown only after she had begrudgingly handed over a few coins in return. It was hard to see the appeal of Kirkwall for Julia. As previously stated, it smelled something awful, the buildings had seen better days, and the people seemed just as run down. It wasn't just that they all sorely needed to bathe, it was the way they carried themselves. As if they were caught between looking out for pickpockets and trying to find any easy target for themselves. A woman leaned against the door of an extremely run down house, leering at those who passed by and promised a good time for very little coin. A scabbed sore warned on her mouth. Julia wrinkled her nose and passed by more quickly. But not before her deft fingers found coin in a distracted man's pocket. Alleys broke off in several directions. Some were empty, some held people engaged in shady dealings, and still others worked as homes.

A child huddled by himself in ally opening, clothes threadbare and eyes downcast. He took shelter beneath a soiled sheet stuffed between cracks to hold it up. Behind him was a crust of moldy bread with small bites taken in it. It appeared the boy was trying to ration it. A tin can sat empty between his dirty feet; it was most likely used to catch rain water so he could drink. No one paid him any mind. Julia felt a twinge of guilt as she went to pass by, feet hesitating. It was like looking into a mirror.

"Hey, kid." The child flinched before looking up. His dark eyes were slightly glazed and he had trouble focusing on anything. His pale lips were chapped from dehydration and his cheeks were sunken in from lack of nutrition.Julia squatted in front of him before she could really understand how she managed to find herself there. "Got a name?"

He nodded mutely.

She raised an eyebrow. "Wanna tell me what it is?"

His face flushed and he croaked, "Daniel, serah."

Julia 'hmmed'. "Where are your parents?"

Daniel looked down at his boney hands. "Gone."

"Are you hungry?"

His head snapped up, eyes wide. "W-what?"

Julia ran her fingers through her hair. "Are you hungry? I've always hated eating alone."

A spark of hope ignited in his eyes. "Me, too."

"Well then." Julia stood and gestured for him to do the same. "Why don't we find something to eat together?"

He got shakily to his feet. The rouge winced at his boney frame, but said nothing. Instead, she held out her hand for him to take and led the way to Lowtown. Why she had decided to take him with her was beyond her. She couldn't waste time trying to play the good guy. Not with Elric so close. The kid was a liability and expense she didn't need.

One meal, that's all I can do for him.

The tavern was easy enough to find, what with the sign being a hanged man and all. Julia wrinkled her nose when she stepped inside. The aroma of stale beer and vomit sucker punched her senses as soon as she crossed the threshold. It was mostly empty, save for the few drunkards passed out randomly throughout the establishment. All things considered, it wasn't the worst pub she had been to. Who knows? Maybe they had great mead and even better stew. Julia sat the kid down at a relatively clean table before making her way to the bar.

The bartender was wiping down a dirty mug with an equally dirty rag. "Wha' can I get for ya, love?"

"Food for two, a stiff drink, and two glasses of water." Julia said, sliding a few coins across the grimy surface to him.

Cups in hand, she sat down at the table and slid the water over to Daniel. He hesitated before taking a large drink draining it dry. Julia hid her smile by taking a swig of her own drink and pushing the second cup of water toward him. She grimaced at the burn followed by a bitter after taste. Maybe she should have gotten a water, too. The pair sat in silence until a stern looking barmaid practically slammed down two bowls of mutton and a stale loaf of bread on the table before walking away.

"Well," Julia slid a bowl over to herself. "Dig in, kid." He needed no further invitation. "Whoah, slow down!" Julia laughed. Daniel looked up at her, cheeks stuffed full of anything he could get his hands on. "There's no rush. You'll make yourself sick at the rate you're going." He swallowed thickly and did his best to slow his pace. Satisfied, Julia began to eat as well.

The mutton wasn't bad. It wasn't good, but it wasn't terrible either. It was far better than the scraps of food she had managed to scrounge up on the ship, and far more satisfying. Daniel finished before her, and fan his dirty fingers along the bottom of the dish. Which an internal sigh, she pushed her half eaten food across the wooden table.

"Here. Not as hungry as I thought I was."

He looked from her to the mutton and back in disbelief. "But…"

"Don't get you smalls in a twist. I had plenty." Julia said, taking a large gulp of her mead.

When Daniel finished off the last of the food, he looked up at her and offered a small smile. "Thank you."

Julia shoved down the warm feeling his simple statement had given her. "Yes, well. I wanted the company and you had nothing better to do. Win, win."

Except it wasn't. She had spent more than she should have. It was hard enough taking care of herself. Time was wasting. She had enough on her plate without him to worry about.

Clearing her throat, she stood. "I should get going. See you around, kid."

He continued to sit there even after Julia paid for a room and left the tavern behind. She put him out of her mind. He had food in his belly, now. He would be fine. Probably. Or not. Whatever, it wasn't her problem.

Julia wandered around Kirkwall aimlessly, carefully swiping coin from several pockets on her way. The higher she went into the city, the cleaner it became, and the more snobbish people became. They made for the easiest targets. Coins jingled happily in her purse, steadily growing in number. While raising funds (read: stealing), Julia also made inquiries about the Circle. A particularly chatting vendor explained they kept mages in the Gallows. It was a small island like structure in the bay that had once held the Tevinter slaves. A fortress that now housed mages. A large host of templars guarded them, the biggest in the Free Marches, she was assured. When asked about how to get there, the man simply blinked at her.

"Why would you want to go there?"

Why, indeed. "My brother is Templar. I traveled here to visit him." I lied.

With an understanding smile, he explained about the boats reserved for visiting the prison, and gave her an apple for free. "My thanks to your brother. For keeping us safe.

Shadows grew longer as the sun began its slow descent behind the tops of buildings. Leaning against a stone banister, Julia mulled over what she had learned. The templars were the biggest problem she faced. With so many, it would make her goal harder to achieve. Not only that, but the Gallows being an island would make a clean getaway difficult. She also had to account for securing passage to and from the fortress, then out of Kirkwall. Frustrated, Julia pushed off the railing. Stupid blight. If it had waited just a few more weeks to reach them… but it hadn't. Now here she was, having to rebuild her plans. It was terribly annoying.

Finding the red lantern district in the middle of the richest part of town gave Julia a small sense of amusement. She would have thought it would be in Lowtown if only to keep the undesirables separated. She supposed it would too unbearable for rich folk to have to sully themselves by being seen with the rabel.

The Blooming Rose was filled with people looking for comfort in others. While Julia had never paid for company, she could certainly see the appeal when she saw a muscular young man lead a customer into another room with a seductive grin. Shaking her head wistfully, she made her way to the counter.

"What's your poison, darling?" The woman behind the counter was beautiful. Her long hair curled loosely around her bare shoulders. It was a wonder her sleeveless dress was able to keep her ample bosom from spilling out of top.

"How much for a hot bath?" Julia asked, appreciating the view she was given when the woman leaned forward.

"Looking for someone to wash your back?"

A wide smirk appeared on Julia's lips. "Not tonight, just a private bath."

"Shame." The woman said, a pout on her pretty face. She gave the price and Julia handed over the money.

The bathing room was steamy, and a large bath was built into the floor. The rouge folded her clothes neatly before sinking into its warm depths. Weeks of dirt melted off her skin. It was refreshing to scrub her skin until it was pink. Julia let her mind wander and found herself thinking of Elric. It had been years since she had seen him. Nine years, in fact. He wouldn't be the little boy she remembered, no, her little brother was a man now. She wondered if he thought of her. Of what she had done. Julia sighed as she massaged scented oils into her hair. There was no use dwelling on it. Once she freed him they would talk. She would explain why she had done it, how she had been weak. But she wasn't weak anymore. Now she could take care of him, of both of them. He would see.

Julia left the brothel feeling refreshed. Her hair was left down to dry as she made the trek back to Lowtown. Perhaps she would grow it out again. It currently rested just below her chin due to an unfortunate accident involving a nug and a horde of dark spawn. The mousey colored locks hung limply, and would continue to do so even after it was completely dry. At least when it was long she could braid it back. At the moment it was too short to do much of anything with.

The streets were empty aside from the occasional thug looking for easy victims. It was simple enough to avoid them buy sticking to the shadows. All Julia wanted when the Hanged Man rose to greet her was an ale and sleep. Food be damned. The bath had her too relaxed to care for much else, and that apple had been far better than anything the tavern had. That is, until she was him. Daniel sat exactly where she had left him, surrounded by rowdy drunks ignoring him. When he spotted Julia, a relieved smile lit up his face.

He's like a stray dog. Julia though as she waded through the crowd towards him. Feed them once and they never leave.

"I wasn't sure if you were coming back." He said when she had reached him.

Julia forced the smile that threatened to appear away. This was a problem. The kid now thought she was some kind of good person who had taken him in off the streets. She wasn't. He wasn't her responsibility, and her act of kindness had already been fulfilled for the week, thank you. She needed to tell him to scam, to find someone else to leech off of.

"So, you waited here all day?" She asked instead.

He looked down at the table top and mumbled, "Was that bad?"

Yes. The last thing she needed was someone who needed her. Julia sighed and asked instead, "Hungry?"

His face lit up and he nodded quickly.

Later that night, she looked down at the boy who slept soundly in her bed. One night, then he was gone. She would give him some coin in the morning and send him on his way. Mind made up, Julia settled deeper into the rickety chair and tried to get some sleep.

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zukofenty · 5 years ago

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Sugar

➜ Summary: The one where there’s a former skateboarding photographer turned teenaged masked vigilante running around protecting the city from crime. Yet, Katara always knew she wasn’t meant to just sit a good fight out.

“Did you just fucking slap me?” Zuko is incredulous, clutching his reddening man tit.

“Yeah, what are you going to do about it? Be mad?” Katara bites back.

➜ Genre: Spiderman!AU, Modern!AU, humor

➜ Words: 3.8k

➜ Warnings: I love Zuko😩

AO3, My Zutara Month Playlist

@zutaramonth hi!!! this my late day 1 hehe

“Self care 2020 is officially over. We’re doing drugs again.”

Suki stares at Katara quizzically. “No, I don’t think that’s how it goes.”

“Are you sure?” Katara asks, puzzled. Suki just rolls her eyes, picking at her chipping manicure as Katara focuses on her biology homework.

“It’s only been like two weeks into the New Year. Yeah, I’m sure,” Suki deadpans. “What makes you think that doing drugs again is remotely going to-” Her rant is abruptly cut off at the sound of commotion coming from the courtyard. “Fuck, not Jet again.”

Katara jumps to her feet. Not this bitch again . Before she has to do more damage control than Camila Cabello’s publicist every time she opens her mouth and something stupid (and/or racist) for the 1000th time, Katara surveyed the scene before her. Freshman Aang, still prepubescent and so, so tiny was spared from having his face shoved in a moldy grilled cheese sandwich the cafeteria gave to kids who couldn’t afford lunch (yay public school!). He’s not facing Jet’s usual wrath inflicted on any short king 5’9” and under. Instead, a figure was gasping for air in an oversized black hoodie, hands clawing at Jet’s angular face.

“Hey Jet!” Katara yelps, pulling the tall boy up by his belt loops. He pauses in pummeling Zuko’s oh so pretty face, and grins unabashedly at Katara. The smile she knows is only reserved for her.

“Yes, Katara?” He smirks when he could almost hear pussies clench. He knows his power.

She smiles back at him, making it almost reach her eyes. “I did a little research, and guess what?”

“What?”

She pushes her bangs from her eyes, looking so sweet and innocent in her blazer and her signature knee length boots. “You’re a whore. A dumb whore.” He can’t help but let anger paint his face. “Leave these damn kids alone ! Don’t you have another class to ditch? A military program to join? A car to mod? Find a hobby. Go to therapy. Stupid.”

Her hair flows whips around as quickly as she does, flowing and bouncing effortlessly as she heads to AP Chemistry.

Zuko smiles, despite the pain in his chest from where Jet shoved his converse into. He thinks he loves her. Or what anti social kids like him thought love was because he doesn’t think she knows who he is. So polished and passionate about everything she does. Captain of the debate team, president of the Student Advocate’s club, and head intern at Phoenix Corporations in working on projects to mass clean polluted waters. She managed to do everything and still have kindness in her soul. The kind of love that you could almost feel surrounding a person.

He decides he likes staring at her, even if it’s the back of her head during chemistry. It was too easy to fall in love, when she was yelling at him to photograph the debate club’s photos in a certain light so they could post it on their Facebook for student recruitment season. He manages to always trip on his laces every time he’s around her, or stumble on his skateboard when she sends a small smile his way as they pass each other in the hallway of Ba Sing Se Academy. It’s always worth the detention Principal Pakku serves his way, if it meant he could get her attention.

In high school, guys like him and girls like her weren’t meant to be together. He’s impossibly clumsy, according to Uncle Iroh, and dangerously emo, according to everyone else. Katara, well she’s meant for bigger and better things, she’s meant to be out in the world and changing it.

She startles him, the way she turns so fast her ponytail narrowly misses his bruised face. “It was great what you did. It was kind of fucking stupid. But great.”

“Thank you?”

Katara beams impossibly wide. “You’re welcome. What’s your name?”

Zuko’s giving her a lopsided smile. “You don’t know my name?”

“Am I supposed to? You know I only keep up with Black Chyna and the lord.” Her wide eyes squint in a smile. His heart thunders, and he somehow feels as though Katara could sense it, with how much bigger her smile gets.

“Welcome to the company single handedly transforming the genetic and biological industry. The future lies within!” The monitor’s voice announces repeatedly, Phoenix Corporation’s recognizable slogan.

Zuko’s in awe. He wasn’t meant for a world like this, with fancy lab coats and holographic presentations and people with glasses spewing larger than life terms. Hell, the revolving doors got him fucked up! That shit was too advanced for his liking. Science was his thing , but this was entirely out of his league. He donned glasses as an homage to a father he had never known, abandoning him when he was a baby on his Uncle Iroh’s doorstep. A labcoat was handed his way after the intern program directors approved with the badge of some guy named “Lee.” Zuko desperately tries to ignore the pleas of the real Lee coming from the lobby of the building.

“I swear I have a badge, I swear I’m an intern here!”

A guard shoves him out the door. “Can it, zit bitch!”

“I don’t think security guards are supposed to pick at people’s insecurities,” Lee whimpers.

He’s avoiding eye contact as Katara prattles away, taking the sweaty interns every which way through the company’s headquarters. “And here is Dr. Ozai, who will be discussing his cross elemental genetics project.”

He’s a formidable man. Tall, broad shoulders. He looks intensely polished, the type of man that always gets his way. The type of man who refuses anything less than what he wants. Zuko can’t help but stare. He looks different from the pictures Zuko found in Iroh’s basement. Meaner . Is this what he will look like in the future? He tries not to think about it too hard. “Does anyone know the history of the firebenders are?” Zuko sees Ozai relishing in the confused faces of the teens, oily foreheads seemingly glistening in the fluorescent lighting.

“They were-”

Zuko promptly interrupts him. “They were born with the ability to will fire any way they wanted. Legend has it that benders were born with abilities to manipulate all the elements: water, earth, fire, air. These people were invincible.”

Ozai smirks. A first for him, a student who understood his work. “Yes, all true. But the truly powerful ones were the ones who could firebend. This element is the most destructive, yet can bring beauty all at once.” He pauses to bring a holographic video to the attention of the students. “My goal is to recreate this ability that once came so easily to our ancestors. To bring humankind to be this powerful again. Where nothing will ever get in our way, no illness, no fear. Just us and the elements, joined together once more.”

As the fellow interns become increasingly enraptured by the presentation detailing his work, Ozai turns to Katara reviewing notes for the rest of the office tour. “Who was that kid?” She couldn’t help but feel pride in her soul. As she turns to introduce him to her mentor, her brows furrow in confusion. He’s nowhere to be found.

He hadn’t meant to sneak into the top secret chamber of research, he swears. One minute he’s looking for a bathroom because he downed one too many Fiji waters because they were fancy and he wanted to feel fancy. And then of course he’s distracted by pretty buttons, and of course the rebel in him is able to remember the passcode scientists used to enter this top secret chamber. (The password was “thrussy.”)

He certainly hadn’t meant to get burned. He hastily climbed into the empty tube to hide himself as security guards routinely checked the room. While trying to unlock the door, of course he just had to trip on his laces, and of course he just had to press some button. Next thing he knew, he was surrounded by rainbow colored flames, engulfing his body. He remembers the last thing he searched on his computer was “what are furries festival” and prays that the police spares that from the report when they investigate his death.

But, he’s fine. He’s more than fine. He’s fucking fantastic . He’s strong, he has the reflexes of a fucking ninja, and he can conjure fucking flames from his hands. From his hands!

He practices every night, after the day at Phoenix Corp. He singed his towels, accidentally broke open his medicine cabinet when he reached for his anti depressants, and exploded his Aveeno bedside lotion. There’s an abandoned building near his apartment, and he climbs to the rooftop every night to control his newfound powers. He’s not clumsy, and swears he can rival Tony Hawk with his skateboarding abilities.

But the best part is how agile he’s become. He’s strong, noodle arms now muscular. His baggy shirts like a conscious fashion choice, and not just because they were the cheapest in the Walmart clearance rack. The kids that ignored him and continued to make out in front of his locker without any consequence? Pushed to the ground. The bully targeting petite kings? Basketball shoved firmly into his head.

“I’m trying my hardest to stop being mean. It’s really not my fault everyone is so fucking stupid.” Zuko petulantly stares at the suspension slip Pakku had written as he waits for Iroh to finish speaking to the principal. Apparently justice has consequences.

“Zuko!” Katara serious tone is heavily contrasted with laughter.

“Fine, you caught me. I’ve been ditching therapy to hotbox in the Denny’s parking lot.”

Katara huffs. “Denny’s? Really, bitch? You couldn’t have chosen, I don’t know, Target at least. Here I thought you were classy.”

Their collective laughter was interrupted by Iroh’s appearance, anger maring his usually gentle face. “We’ll talk about this later. Zuko, you know better than this. Why did you have to humiliate that boy?”

“He deserved it!”

“Enough! I’m have to pick up some later shifts at the tea shop today. Show up for yours today, too.” Zuko senses his uncle has more to say, more to berate him for. He just looks exhausted . Defeated. It’s all his damn fault. Iroh swerves to Katara. “He has you on his computer by the way! I’m his parole officer, nice to meet you.” Zuko’s mouth falls open, trying to explain to Katara who is barely holding herself together with how loudly she’s guffawing.

“I love you,” Iroh says, moving to exit out the school.

“I know.” Zuko starts to move away, before he pauses. “I love you, too.”

He thought, you get the girl, you get the firebending skills and you get hot and everything is ok. Everything is perfect. The universe has so many ways to fuck up your life, because serenity is just too easy.

Zuko’s heart clenches, staring at his Uncle’s body. There are tears that promise to slip, but never embark on their journey. A monitor nearby is noisily beeping, a tired nurse pats Zuko gently on the back. He’s becoming a recognizable figure, after all he does visit his Uncle Iroh two times a day.

It’s his fault .

It’s a thought that becomes permanent in his mind. It’s his fault that he lost track of training himself, and didn’t show up for his shift. It’s his fault that Iroh was running around the whole damn city looking for him. It’s his fucking fault his uncle was beat nearly half to death by robbers.

He grabs his uncle’s limp hands gently between his own calloused ones. “I’m going to make this right. I’m going to make you proud.” He slips away before he can feel his heart threatens to simply stop, unable to process the infinite pain he feels.

He glances at his watch nervous for multiple reasons. One, that he was going to miss his shift at the tea shop and get lectured again by June, his neighbor who has graciously taken over running the shop and housing Zuko until Iroh wakes from his coma. Two, that if he stares at the sea prunes any longer without actually eating them, Katara’s grandma would start laughing at him. Three, if Katara’s father kept glaring at him he would combust with how fucking nervous he was. It didn’t help he snuck in through Katara’s window and Hakoda had discovered him watching Tik Toks on her bed.

The dinner was a bust. Halfway through and he’s already gotten in an argument with the police chief over a certain masked figure.

“I think his name is The Blue Spirit.” Zuko admits, fighting to hide a smile.

Hakoda stares down at the boy. “More like Blue Dipshit. He’s destroying the city!” Katara quickly steps in as the argument grows heated, taking Zuko out to her building’s rooftop.

“Oh my god, you should be glad he didn’t shoot your ass up.” Katara clutches the railing, staring out to the city lights.

The same city lights he lives by, swears by. He remembers trying to seek out his uncle’s attacker. A man named Zhao notorious for his violent temper and attacks on the city’s elderly. He was able to run into his gaggle of minions on his nights long quest. While they had successfully nearly beat him to a pulp, he swears he’s set a few jackets on fire and managed to outrun them. Even if it meant he had fallen through an unbuilt building, tumbling down six stories before landing in the pits of a former fight club. He saw it then, the Blue Spirit legend. An ancient swordsman who dominated the underground scene.

He decided he was going to be the best damn superhero the world had seen. Even if it meant wearing an all black leotard every night. He designed it to best complement his firebending, resistant to the heat. The mask he slipped on every night, built to protect both him and his identity. The swords at his back that he’s been training with hours on end.

“Are you a cop?” he remembers his uncle’s attacker questioning, his new target blocked by Zuko’s presence.

“Really? You think a cop is going to be wearing a blue face mask and black spandex?” He doesn’t remember much of that night, anger too palpable and blinding his senses. All he will admit to is leaving him in some police car. Not the bruises littering the bandit’s body. Or his missing pants.

“I have to tell you something.” He joins Katara at the railing.

She gasps. “I knew it! You listen to Post Malone unironically.”

“No, god no. I haven’t hit rock bottom yet to start doing that.” He’s proud of himself for making her laugh.

“What’s up?” She asks. He can’t back out now. Not when she’s looking at him like he’s the whole world, not when she’s become his whole world.

“I-I can’t” He stutters, breaking their eye contact.

She nods in quiet understanding, turning away from him to walk back to her apartment. Zuko sighs, rubbing a hand at his forehead. “ Fuck.”

He conjures up a storm of flames to surround Katara. The force was enough to whirl her around and towards him, waiting to catch her in his arms.

“What the fuck was that?” Katara yelps, before being cut off with the feeling of Zuko’s lips pressed against hers.

“I just wanted to let you know. I Am. A. God.” He swears, the flames growing steadily from his palms.

“I’m kind of scared of you right now. Not because of the firebending or anything, just because the amount of testosterone is making me nervous.” She initiates the kiss this time. Her lip gloss tastes sweet, and he keeps kissing her until her lips become chapped. His hands can’t help but roam her body, her hands teasing and finding contact with his toned stomach beneath his hoodie.

“Are you kidding me!” Sokka calls from the rooftop’s entrance, hands covering his eyes. “I swear to Spirits above Zuko I am not afraid to castrate you right here right now. Katara, get the fuck inside!”

Zuko blushes.

“Katara, you’re so incredibly mature for your age.” Hama insists.

Katara is beaming. “Thanks, it’s the childhood trauma!”

The chemistry teacher freezes, looking at the still smiling girl peculiarly. “Um, well. My point is, it’s not worth it. I-I know it’s none of my business. I just see so much of myself in you. Including the mistakes I know you’re going to make. Honey, it’s not worth mixing yourself up with a guy that’s only more trouble than anything else. You’re going to go to the best college in the nation, I just know it. You just can’t afford to lose your focus now. Been there, done that. It’s not worth it.”

She smiled seemingly understandingly, struggling to keep her mouth shut. If only she knew.

The Blue Spirit couldn’t fight all the crime in the city alone. As much as Zuko was convinced he was the shit, he really wasn’t. The Blue Spirit couldn’t dare match up to The Painted Lady.

“You’re The Painted Lady?” Zuko questions, eyes closed in confusion while trying to process all the information. To be fair, he’s only gotten two hours of sleep a night ever since his life as The Blue Spirit began. He’s convinced the police really only sit around and eat donuts. If this was Law and Order: SVU , he just knew Olivia Benson wouldn’t need a masked teenager saving people. He opens his eyes when he begins to feel pulsating water near his wounds, Katara controlling its every movement as it works its way through his wounds.

After reuniting with his father and become an official intern at Phoenix Corp, he soon realized his father was not as occupied with cross elemental theories. No, he was much more focused on how to resurrect the dragons of the world. The true firebenders, he noted. Zuko had found hidden notes his mother had written before leaving his father. Partners in crime, they were working on their research together. Before his mother had left with the solution, before his father could understand the consequences of his work. Before his father had made himself a subject and injected their concoction into himself, become a half scaled half human hybrid roaming the sewers of the city.

He had found his father, bitter to no end as he continues producing the serum that was supposed to make the most powerful being on the planet. Zuko was left with gashes in his chest that made him wanted to vomit with how much blood was pouring out. He was left to die in dirty sewage water, his father cackling as he disappeared. Until she showed up.

The Painted Lady.

The city’s emblem, etched on coins and dollar bills. He’s heard rumors about her cleaning up the city’s rivers, healing patients doctors long gave up on. Her grandmother had told her their family comes from a long line of waterbenders, the last one born 400 years ago. She had her swear never to reveal her talents, never talk about it, never do anything about it. It was dangerous, the government would want to talk to her. She would disappear, the whole family would be in danger But Katara was never one to listen to directions very well.

“Did you just fucking slap me?” Zuko is incredulous, clutching his reddening man tit. She’s nearly healed all the cuts on his body at the hands of his father’s claws. The burn from a dragon is more painful than any other, and Katara’s upset. She can’t heal his eye, no matter how hard she tries.

“Yeah, what are you going to do about it? Be mad?” Katara bites back. She pauses the water disappearing from her hands and back onto the mug on her night stand. “I can’t believe you’re so fucking stupid.” She’s in his lap, clad in only a t shirt. Her hair falls in her eyes as she returns to heal his wounds, and he gingerly brushes the strand out from blocking her.

“I know.” Zuko couldn’t help but press a kiss to her cheek.

“Don’t return the sweatpants,” Katara throws out.

Zuko raises his eyebrow. “Why, doesn’t Sokka want these back?”

“He says, ‘I don’t want emo butt juice on them,’” Katara shrugs.

He blows a stray hair from his scarred eye out of frustration. “I consider myself chic punk more than anything else.”

She pauses again. “What if there’s more of us out there?” Katara uneasily peers up at his questioning stare. “More benders?”

Even with all the tests and insistence Ozai had for recreating this power, Zuko had been the only successful case. The only person to fully exhibit the power of his ancestors. “I don’t know. Wouldn’t they need to go through some sort of freak accident like I did?”

“What if your power was suppressed this whole time?”

He contemplates the idea, hands rubbing up and down her waist.

“I think my grandma used to say something like ‘One queef and this whole building could tumble down.’”

He is glaring at her quizzically. “No I don’t think that’s right. What does that even mean?”

“It means, life as we know it will change forever. If we find other benders to defeat your father. If we expose what bending is. Hell, the city still thinks you use jetpacks to propel yourself around the city.”

He pecks chastely at her lips. She hates how easily she’s able to relax when he kisses away her worries. “You know, I used to think if I had a boyfriend I would simply go beat pedophiles to death with him as a hobby. I don’t know whether or not to be delighted this has come true.”

“As long as The Blue Spirit always has The Painted Lady. Everything will be alright.”

“You promise?”

“You rise with moon. He does, too.” Zuko’s staring at the mask in his hand. His other hand firmly around Katara’s.

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