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dayseternal-blog · 3 years

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Summary: Hinata gives Naruto candy on Valentine’s, and he develops a crush early-on. An Alpha/Omega fic.

Pairing: Hyuuga Hinata/Uzumaki Naruto

Written for @naruto-smut-monday 2021 - February Prompt: Sweet as Candy / Love Bites.

(This is many months late, so I carry no expectations for the event moderators to reblog this 😓)

Rated E for really explicit, kinky smut!

Sweet and rich.

Her usual milkiness pitching lower and bolder.

The familiar scent of her heat fills his lungs with each gasp against her lips, tugging at his heart, enticing each shove of himself into her soft folds.

She breaks the kiss with a tortured moan that rolls through his heightened, rutting senses. Her face turns, exposing the broken, shining gland at her neck once more.

His mark still looks fresh from their aggressive first round. He had awoken from their fitful rest with Hinata eagerly sucking him off in the dead of the night. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when they finally fell back asleep in cuddling, knotted exhaustion.

His tongue catches the liquid caramel at her gland, just as sweet as her scent, and gently, he gnaws into her sensitive neck to release more for him to drink as she squeals, slick flowing around his swelling piece, nudging deeper and deeper.

“Hinata…” Clawing pleasure skips along his skin, shimmering in his veins with each suck against the abused claim.

“Ah...Alpha...”

He doesn’t need her breathy Omega voice to encourage him, not when her snug passage is readily opening up to accommodate his urgent thrusts, his hands gripping her flared hips still as he impales her hurriedly until she’s wrapped entirely around his knot, stuck and breathlessly screaming for him. “You wanted this again, yeah?”

She nods enthusiastically, the bob of her chin frantic like the shake of her large breasts. Tears of pain and pleasure glint along her dark lashes and pink cheeks, her little tongue teases him as she gasps from puffy lips, tracks of his saliva and her leaking scent gland glimmer in the mid-morning sun. His usually proper and demure wife is a beautiful mess on his rigid cock, soaking wet for him, the excellent sight filling his inner, lusting beast with possessive pride.

“Look at you,” he groans, slipping mindlessly into his secondary gender, “my pretty Omega, living for my knotted dick, acting all cute for my cum.”

She wiggles beneath him with an affectionate gasp, and he’s grinding hard into her until her glassy eyes squeeze shut, more tears escaping.

He leans down to lick each one up, the saltiness making him grab at the top of her head to turn her intoxicating gland toward him so that he can drink her in, her heady, rich taste invading his senses.

She squirms beneath him.

Her legs squeeze at his waist.

Blunt fingernails pinch into his back.

Tight nipples push into his chest and smooth stomach arches into him.

Plush flesh clenches around his knot, coaxing his release. Her hot breath ghosts over his bicep, prickling his skin with a begging, “Please, please, please-”

And he’s coming before he can even consider holding back, throbbing into her humidity, smearing his own broken gland against her lips until she’s sucking everything out of him, his whole body and soul yearning, pulsing into her welcoming, soft comfort. Take all of me.

For only a blissful second, his mind feels empty, his Alpha terribly pleased and sated.

She paints a small strip with her tongue at his gland, and the beast reawakens.

He’s fucking his cum into her, stirring into her weeping flesh, his knot plugging her up so that she’s awfully sloppy around his dick, a rumbling in his chest as she clings to him, her face buried in his neck, her warm tongue still licking cutely at him. “Hinata, you need more, don’t you?”

“Naruto-kun,” she sighs, “mhmm…”

So this is what it’s like to share their heat and rut, their tempos finally coinciding after their first bonded year.

He’d imagined it was never-ending sex, the idea both arousing and concerning, but experiencing it leaves him trembling with honest delight and, more than anything else, sincere love. Of course, it’s an overwhelming desire to impregnate her, to make her whole body and life undeniably his, something that’s normal in his rut anyway, but with her very much unprotected body so willing and ready, so much slick to ease his knot into her over and over again without worry, it’s as if every part of them is shared, synced and in tune, eager to please and enjoy each other.

He can’t even begin to consider separating himself from her at the end of these five or so days, can’t at all recall what his daily life is like outside of their home.

Not when her hazy eyes are lowered in an expression of come-hither lust, all hints of his usual shy, reserved wife forgotten with his stiff piece warm and wet, pushing against her cervix. Her fingers dance over his arm muscles, massaging over the back of his shoulders, and tunneling into his hair.

He nudges his face into her neck, inhaling her scent deeply as new attraction rushes fast and hard into his knot, as if he hadn’t been excited the whole time.

“Fill me up, my love,” she whispers, her moist clit sliding at his groin, and that voice intones, breathier and lower, “my sweet Alpha.”

Shivers run up his spine, his hips straining at her more insistently, tight flesh tugging at his knot as he tries to ram himself deeper into her. Memories of his thick seed dribbling down her thighs from past ruts morph into images of her stomach swollen with their child. They’ve prepared for this week for a couple of months now after their last rut and heat nearly overlapped, only for one incredible day that convinced both of them they needed more in their marriage. After the nine day ordeal of caring for each other's needs, they had visited their doctors, Hinata had taken out her birth control, and then they had reviewed tips on self- and partner-care for acclimated bonds.

All their preparation is flying out the window of his mind now.

They’re supposed to clean up after this? The wet wipes seem completely unnecessary, and he lets her know he has no intention of using them. “Gonna cover you in my scent, no other Alpha will even dare to look at you.”

She nods, a lovely, dazed smile curling her kiss-swollen lips. Soft, agreeing moans soothe the aggression simmering low in his gut, turning his lust into appreciative hunger.

They’re supposed to eat that microwavable shit? Isn’t Hinata’s body enough for him? His hands sink into her fluffy tits, squeezing and playing, whetting his appetite with her delicious curves. And isn’t he enough? “Only going to feed you my knot, keep you full of cum. You can eat my hard dick whenever you want.”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes...” Adoring, pearly eyes gaze up at him even through her tortured gasps.

He smashes her into the bed, one hand clutching her round ass desperately as the other tangles into her hair. Her needy kisses are just as much tongue as his, their lips sucking on each other avidly.

Ecstasy slides through his veins, blooming over his mind, cocooning him in pleasant sensations, cum shooting out in eager twitches against hot, milking flesh.

He’s left panting into the pillow, the material doing little to stop her rich smell of satisfaction from drawing him back to lick at the abused flesh of his claim on her, her body shivering uncontrollably and enticingly beneath him, teasing his body and mind with the taste of her sweet, sweet dew.

Everything about her has always been sweet to him.

From her scent to her smile, her kiss, and her touch. The glow in her eyes, just for him, to her intimate voice.

The way she always tries to understand him and is there to support him.

He’s wondered if they were made for each other, the strength of their connection at times so overwhelming that he could cry.

They were taught in school that mating isn’t decided, not like some spiritual concept of soulmates, but that potential bonded relationships are cultivated carefully over time.

However, significant inclinations may form from way before either party presents.

He thinks he’s been inclined to her from the moment she handed him, a random elementary schoolmate in the hallway, not even in the same class as her, one of her extra giri chocolates on Valentine’s Day. She handed a couple of other boys she passed on the way an extra chocolate, too, but he didn’t care. He crushed on her fast and easily, his heart swayed by nearly any kind gesture from a girl. Having one more chocolate than his friends was something he bragged about right away in pretend nonchalance, saying that a girl from another class gave it especially to him.

His fleeting feelings might have ended there if he weren’t in her class the following year, if she hadn’t handed out giri chocolates again, if she hadn’t noticeably blushed pink and whispered, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Naruto-kun,” or if he hadn’t found out his little baggie of chocolates had one more heart-shaped piece than Sasuke’s baggie…it was a small win compared to all the unappreciated honmei chocolates Sasuke received, but Naruto took what he could get.

Maybe his little school crush would have ended there if she had stopped handing out giri chocolates to boys in intermediate school, the way most girls did when they started presenting, when she wore her skirt as long as was acceptable by school dress code, sweaters over her button-down uniform, and simple blue ribboned chokers to cover as much skin as possible, when the mystery of her designation tickled the back of his mind whenever she was near, but he had no way of knowing, especially with their sex education steering hard by-the-book on disease, protection, and, most of all, consent, rather than humoring their curiosities about individual designations and tell-tale personality traits.

He and the boys in their class still got giri chocolates from her despite how so many of them acted like annoying idiots, and he knew he wasn’t the only one who liked that thoughtful sweetness about her. He also knew he was the only one who had one more chocolate than the others, or, at least, one more than Kiba.

“Let me see,” he’d say mid-grab, stealing the bag from Kiba’s hand.

“What the fuck, why are you always trying to take mine, you have your own!”

His eyes strained to swiftly count the number of adorable handmade, heart-shaped chocolates through the dark purple plastic, her level of effort making even giri chocolates feel incredibly special. 5.

“They’re all the same every year, fucktard.” Kiba snatched it away. “But you better not have broken any.”

His bag, for the third year in a row, had 6, and his cheeks flushed with wonder, a self-satisfied grin breaking out. “I was just checking. It really is the same every year. Isn’t it great?” He popped a chocolate in his mouth, pushing back the overly gleeful thought that it could all mean something more than a coincidental mistake.

Their third, last year of intermediate school, he expected it. A bag of six chocolates, just for him. And with only her characteristic small, shy smile, she handed him his gift, and he grinned hugely to cover up his nerves. “Thanks, Hinata!”

She bowed her head and hurried to the next boy in the room.

And he counted. 6. His gaze flickered up to her back, wondering, the seed of his suspicions sprouting awfully strong. What if these chocolates are actually honmei? She’s just too shy-

His bag was ripped from his grip.

He whipped around, eyes wide, staring up at Kiba’s exuberant smile.

“I gotcha first this time!”

“Kiba!” he shouted, his arm swinging up, but Kiba pulled it back just in time. Scenarios flew through his mind, all of him humiliatingly chasing his friend around the classroom for a little bag of giri chocolates, and Naruto quickly decided to play it cool. “Give it back, man.”

Kiba ignored him, making an elaborate show of scrutinizing the bag. “I was just checking-ttebayo,” he mocked when he did a double-take. “Whaaat, you got 6?! That’s not fair!” He checked his own bag. “I only have 5!”

His heart stopped. His gaze flashed to Hinata.

She was staring at them.

Panicking, he turned away. “...Really?! Cool!” he spit out in feigned surprise. “Maybe she just doesn’t like you as much! Give it back before you break one.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. How could she like you more than me?” Kiba tossed the bag at him, and Naruto grabbed it harder than he should have, the chocolates knocking together in his stressed hand.

Blood rushed hot through his system, but he was desperately trying to appear unaffected. “You probably smell like dog!”

Kiba clicked his tongue at that, then looked directly at the girl in question. “Hinata, do I smell like dog??!”

Naruto hesitated to look at her, but when he finally did, she was already falling to the floor.

The blame ultimately fell on Kiba for her fainting incident, since he asked such an obtrusive question like that, but somehow, Naruto couldn’t help but think it to be his fault, that he had failed some kind of test, messed up a secret game, and couldn’t protect something special that was only meant for him to know.

Wondering attraction maybe could have ended there, at the start of high school, when gossip about Sakura, pretty and sassy spitfire of a girl, and her rumored, unexpected Omega designation ran rampant around their grade level. The idea that someone so fiery and untouchable could be secretly emotional and clingy attracted many of the boys who were starting to show symptoms of presenting, such as starting to differentiate the scents of the girls in the class.

Though Naruto himself couldn’t smell anything from anyone, that didn’t stop him from imagining the athletic, rosy-haired girl, wondering what about her smell made her so desirable to some of the presenting boys… Whenever she was near, he focused his senses as much as he could, but nothing.

Hinata didn’t pass out giri chocolates that year to his great disappointment.

He shrugged it off, understanding that it’s seen by most as a childish or seemingly flirtatious tradition, that Kiba’s noisiness last year made her change her mind, that maybe his extra chocolate was a mistake of coincidence the last four years. He’d rather jump off the second-floor window than ask her if there was any meaning to it, so he decided to pay no mind to it, and he would have, but…

When she smelled like chocolate, sweet like a candy store, the next day, and he thought maybe she was a day late. Maybe she was still passing out chocolates to everyone, even though he couldn’t see any large bag, making him wonder if she had stuffed her sweater pockets and clothes full of chocolate. His temperature ran high, adrenaline racing through his heart whenever she walked even slightly in his direction, hoping for something from her that never came, and for days after, he was glaringly upset at how she definitely made chocolate, a whole lot of chocolate, and didn’t give him any.

Two months later, he began to understand that she just smelled like that, like she dumped chocolate perfume on her clothes, and some days just a dab, but either way it clouded his mind and made his stomach flip-flop anxiously, made him feel impatient and antsy beneath his skin, and he couldn’t take his irrational frustration anymore.

“Hinata, why do you always smell like that?” His tone was much more accusing than he meant it to be, but it was too late.

She was frozen a few paces between his desk and Ino’s, her angelically light eyes wide, her fair skin tinting pink as she looked back at him, and that chocolate smell amplifying with a strange tinge of citrusy unknowns. “...Huh?”

His face scrunched up in equal confusion at her seemingly innocent ignorance. “I don’t know, like, you smell really swee-”

Realization struck him hard before Sakura’s fist to the back of his head. “Naruto! What the hell do you think you’re asking her!”

“Ah fuck!” He clasped the back of his head and bowed on his desk in pain, partially to shield from any more hits, partially to hide his beet-red face.

Ino and Sakura were yelling at him, calling him a pervert and that they should report him, but his mind zeroed in on Hinata’s soft voice, asking him if he was okay, saying that she was completely fine, that it’s really okay and that she wasn’t going to report him.

His heart was pumping rapidfire, embarrassed heat crawling like a poison through his veins until he could swear he was hot to the touch, even the tips of his ears felt like they were burning, and he tried to hunch his shoulders to hide it.

He had been scenting her.

Everyday for the past two months.

Focusing on hers alone as if she was the only girl in the room.

Yet he hadn’t realized it at all.

If his feelings could have changed after that, it would’ve taken a whole lot of rejection on her end. She easily consumed his thoughts even when he didn’t want to think about her. Even when he actively tried to find someone else’s scent to enjoy, like Ino’s spring and fresh floral or Sakura’s berry and soda pop, but he ended up forgetting them with her near, ended up fazing into some kind of sparkling clarity, fuzzy around the edges yet Hinata in the center of it all, his eyes settling onto the wide ribbon peeking over her uniform’s collar as he sat at the back of the classroom and her in the front.

He noticed every time she fidgeted with the ribbon, he noticed how her scent strengthened into something darker and exciting on various occasions, but then how she’d be gone from school for days at a time, just like some of the other matured girls and boys. Her extended absence after such impactful scents left him utterly bored and empty at school.

Then at home, he couldn’t contain his imagination, recalling her coloring scent, her fingers pressing over the choker at her hidden gland. What might she be doing right now? Maybe at this very moment, she was comforting herself in a nest of pillows and blankets, using toys to mimic his penetration, maybe calling his name as she writhed in heat before passing out with an exhausted afterglow…?

The last Sports Festival of their high school careers saw lots of students pairing up. The adrenaline rush of the special competitions fueled love confessions every day up until the last moments of the final afternoon. He longed for a confession.

His eyes kept sliding toward her.

Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail throughout most of the festival, her simple white sports shirt and standard black shorts revealing her arms, legs, and the shape of her body.

Undeniably, he liked her. Despite not knowing either of their designations, despite rarely talking to her, he couldn’t stop admiring her perfection, his eyes capturing as much as he could commit to memory before he had to look away, so as not to stare.

But sometimes he wouldn’t look away fast enough, their eyes would awkwardly meet, and she’d blush and look away first. He’d focus determinedly somewhere else, yet inwardly, just as he always had, he’d wonder if there was any meaning in her looks, or if it was just coincidence, if those extra chocolates from their childhood were just coincidence, if he was just leading himself on in a sick and doomed game that he imagined all by himself.

He never got a confession.

But it seemed like Hinata did.

A snowy-haired boy from another class kept visiting her during breaks, talking to her from the sliding window between the hallway and the classroom, leaning over the sill to smile at her, obviously basking in her directed attention and the way she familiarly called him, “Toneri-kun.”

Silently jealous, all he could do was watch and listen, pretend to pay attention to the people around him and not his crush getting stolen away by some guy he could’ve sworn he had never seen before.

Three tedious weeks later, Toneri got bold and invited her out during lunch. As soon as she left the room, he stood up and followed after them, not even knowing exactly why he needed to dig his wound any deeper, only that he had to witness this himself, confirm the status of their relationship himself, otherwise he’d drive himself crazy in the classroom with speculation.

It was easy to follow from a distance. Her scent had long since invaded his memory. So what struck him first was the slightly sour notes marring her sweetness, kind of like before a class oral presentation.

She was anxious.

They stopped behind a school building, and he leaned against the wall around the corner, straining to hear their conversation.

“...Toneri-kun?”

Hinata’s voice was easy for him to pick up, and he didn’t question this realization, it was just further proof to him of his doomed infatuation.

“...I’m sorry, I tried,” she murmured.

Naruto assumed the pauses were when Toneri spoke, but they were all indistinct tones.

“I, I just don’t think...I can see you that way...I’m sorry...”

Everything in him began relaxing, the awful clenching around his heart suddenly released, and he collapsed to the ground in a crouch, not even actively trying to listen anymore.

“Because I...I like someone.”

His eyes shot open, adrenaline rushing at her words, and only one question ringing in his mind, Who?!

“I, I’m sorry, I can’t tell you that.”

Silence followed, and he started to back away, not wanting to get caught eavesdropping on what obviously was a sound rejection.

“Toneri-kun?...No, I, I, no-!” The panic was unmistakable, her sweetness drastically souring, and he was back at the corner, straining to understand what could possibly be going on now.

A whispered “Naruto-kun-”,

And he was around the corner running, shock exploding at seeing Toneri bent too close to her, nose at her neck, Hinata backed against the building wall. His body slammed into Toneri hard enough to make him fall to the ground.

“Hinata!” He looked at her, checking to see that her ribbon was still secure, that she appeared unharmed, but he felt like he was going to suffocate, air not making it past his throat, a building panic and disgust roaring loudly in his core that had him turning back around to direct this somewhere, his excessive anger pinpointing Toneri, red coloring his vision too fast for him to comprehend the confused expression on the splayed boy.

He jumped on him, his fist connecting with Toneri’s face fast and hard, the knock of his white head against the ground deeply satisfying his suddenly justified instincts, and he raised his fist again to drive his point home when his arm caught midair.

He tried to yank his arm free, but the unidentified grip only proved tighter, so he raised his non-dominant hand into a fist, ready to pound into this challenger who dared to scent and claim his chosen one.

Weight pushed into his chest, light eyes taking up his whole vision. “Naruto-kun! Stop!”

The cacophony in his mind silenced. A voice within responded viscerally, Omega.

“Naruto-kun.” Milky sweetness suddenly flooded him, beating back the flames within. Her head ducked into his chest as she clung to him. “I’m okay, I’m really okay, you need to stop, you hurt him!”

He blinked, suddenly outside of himself. He looked down to see Toneri shielding his face with his arms.

He stood immediately, clutching Hinata into his chest, and he backed away. Not knowing what to do or say, he wrapped his other arm around Hinata’s shoulders, turning them around, rushing them far from his crime.

He hovered near Hinata throughout the rest of the lunch break, soaking in her sweet scent, alternately trying to forget or make sense of his loss of control.

He didn’t have to wonder for long.

Toneri’s injury didn’t go unnoticed, and he was called into the Principal’s Office. Hinata was called in to confirm his side of the story, and then Naruto was sent to the counselor’s office.

He had been apparently so aggravated by the emotional incident that, for the first time and unknowingly, he had called on his inner Alpha into officially presenting. But his actions were still inexcusable by school rules.

Both he and Toneri were suspended for two weeks.

The school went wild over the drama. Even when he returned, whispered rumors of a “fight for dominance” and “claiming rights” circulated, and he couldn’t even think of approaching Hinata with such scandalous gossip surrounding them.

But sometimes, she’d tuck her hair back, or sweep the midnight strands over her shoulder, wide ribbon peeking over her shirt’s collar, wrapping her graceful, white neck in his view, then she’d look back at him, their gazes connecting for an exhilarating instant.

He didn’t need words or a confession. From her beckoning sweet scent to her affectionate looks, from the memory of her whispering his name for help and her Omega voice calling out to his Alpha, he knew that she returned his feelings, that she was just as aware of him sitting around the corner as he was aware of her during that incident...that there was a high chance for them to start a relationship.

After they graduated.

But a long wait kindled a passionate love.

In the first year of their relationship in university, they were careful to follow the recommendations, clumsily having their first-times near the end of her heat, when she’d be conscious enough to make decisions, yet physically capable to accept any loss of control on his end. She wanted to spend his first rut with him, too, but he decided against it, not knowing what might happen.

It was lonely. He had never loathed a past decision so much before in his life. No matter that he took over-the-counter suppressants to calm his Alpha’s tendencies, like keeping his knot from forming or hammering down the aggressive urge to bite into soft skin, his mind kept wandering to her, his fingers tapping into her social media for pictures of her that inevitably had him working himself into a sleeve or humping his pillows and blankets, every moment compounding frustration and dissatisfaction in a never-ending cycle, until he was phone calling her, “Just to hear your voice.”

“Oh, Naruto-kun...I miss you, too. Are you okay?”

He was already achingly stiff, his own developed gland at his neck pulsing needfully, his Alpha aroused as if blinking suddenly awake, then thrashing to be with her. “Mm, yeah.”

“The medicine is okay?”

He tugged on his member, his eyes closing.

“...Naruto-kun?”

He pumped himself, settling into a rhythm. “...Yeah?”

“...Are you okay?” she repeated with more hesitation, more concern.

A harsh breath left his mouth. “No, yeah, I just needed to hear you, Hinata,” he managed to breathe out.

“I, I missed your voice, too.”

He worked himself in his hand, imagining her whispers at his ear instead of his phone. “I miss you. I need you. I need you, Hinata.”

“I wish I could help you.”

He shortly moaned. “Yeah. I can’t stop thinking about you.” His train of thought quickly devolved into memories of her last heat from there, his control on his mouth snapping. “Can’t stop thinking about your body, how I’d…” He groaned. “I’d fuck you so hard, Hinata-”

“Yes,” she breathed.

Shivers ran through him. “You’d like that, right? My hard cock driving into your dripping pussy-”

“Oh, Naruto-kun...yes…”

Blearily, he grabbed an already used sleeve, and began thrusting into it with earnest. “You’d be so hot and slick, just gripping me so tightly-”

“Naruto-kun!” Her voice pitched breathily.

“Fuck. Hinata. That’s it...”

She moaned, the hungry sound making him grind himself into the tool.

“Are you touching yourself?” he asked, trying to imagine her lewd facial expressions.

“...Yes…”

He sighed in desire and frustration, working his hips, grunting and groaning. “...Hinata…”

“Naruto-kun…”

“You’re so soft…”

“Mm…you’re..so...mm...so big...”

Eyes closed, he lay down on his bed, and a picture of her sinking down on him, riding him, ran vividly through his mind.

“You’re so hard…” Her sultry voice slipped around his mind like a drug, carrying him straight to the brink.

“I’m going to fill you up with my cum, over and over again.”

“Oh...please...yes…”

“Paint your insides with my seed…” His mind faded as she breathed his name, a sound that toppled him over the edge. He convulsed into the sleeve, pumping his hips wildly, the agony of his orgasm ripping him out of his fantasy.

When his eyes opened again, he was staring at the ceiling, utterly alone. The imagined warmth of her body just the still air of his dorm room.

Her breaths came through the phone as his mind cleared, and he roughly apologized, “Sorry.”

“...Hm? Oh..no, Naruto-kun, it’s, it’s okay, I understand.”

He rested, the exhaustion of his hours of lust suddenly hitting him.

“...Do you want me to come over?”

This short reprieve of his rut had him second-guessing. He knew that once the next wave hit, he’d want her in-person. “I don’t know, maybe, if you want…only if you want.”

“I’ll be there soon, Naruto-kun.”

She let him indulge himself between her own classes, rushing straight to him for a quickie before heading off to her next class, her womanhood and pad-lined panty sticky with the potent seed of his rut.

Numerous times that week, he wished he weren’t on medication so that he could knot her and force her to stay with him until he deflated, even if that meant she’d miss her class.

So when summer break coincided with his second rut, they talked about forgoing the medication. He wonders if he should have known better, but of course, he couldn’t control himself. He knotted her right away, and in his haze of animalistic lust and at the brink of orgasm, his teeth tore off her ribbon from her swollen, pink gland even though he had known it wasn’t the right time. Her hand slapped to her neck right before he could mark her, and he ended up biting her fingers as he came.

It was awful, but she forgave him.

Close calls in their feverish, hormonal lovemaking forced both of them to start wearing locked collars on their glands with the keys in another locked cabinet. It would be too much trouble to retrieve the keys in the throes of passion. She had initially tried simple belted collars, thinking she’d be too foggy to deal with the buckle, but she herself would desperately remove them during the height of her heat while he pounded her into a puddle.

“Please,...Alpha,...claim me,” she breathed, stretching her neck so that he could see her bare, perfectly unscarred, and puffy scent gland.

It took everything in him to shut his eyes, while his inner Alpha raged with desire.

When she realized he couldn’t be enticed, the incident of chomping her fingers still weighing on him, she tried a different tactic. Her teeth picked at his collar, her breath tantalizingly hot on him, her tongue licking at the exposed edges of his equally swollen gland, his heart thudding in his chest for their bond to be finalized.

If she ever bit him, even just a little, he knew he’d claim her in a heartbeat.

But she somehow held herself back every time, only teasing him with her lips and tongue, or the lightest graze of her teeth around where he desperately wanted her to bite down. Then she’d beg for his cum, whispering dirty words he’d never imagine could leave his quiet girlfriend’s lips.

By some way or another, they managed throughout university. He knew their parents would kill them if they bonded too soon, but after proposing to her in their final year, job-hunting, and graduation, he found less and less reasons to hold back.

He didn’t plan on marrying anyone else, and he knew Hinata didn’t plan on it, either. So why weren’t they mated, yet? Would their parents really be angry at them? Technically, they were both working adults now, even if he had only just received his first paycheck.

Her intoxicatingly rich scent enveloped him, like the protective nest of blankets and pillows she’d neatly piled and encircled around them. Her organized nest popped with distinct orange and black from his jackets and shirts, used as pillow cases to scent the entire bed if he steps away for a moment. He himself couldn’t smell the ocean air of his scent that apparently soothes her. Yet she curled into him, trembling and feverish with the onslaught of her fast-approaching heat, breathing in as deeply as she could at his shoulder.

He blinked slowly, the fog of her pheromones sending him through a buzzed state. Was it his imagination, or were her heats getting denser over time, more tantalizing and sensual? Blood was rushing low, desire accumulating slowly yet surely in his core with a certain, particular heaviness growing in his sack with the lovely, familiar scent of her heat. His body was preparing to emulate a rut, readying to knot her, claim her, mate her. The beast within paced itself. His senses felt heightened in awareness of every shiver against his skin, of each puff of her breath, anticipating anything she might need of him, waiting to prove himself worthy.

She squeezed him, soft whimpers spilling from her lips as she rubbed her sensitive breasts into his side. Her nightgown was a thin little piece, meant to provide her some semblance of modesty and keep her cool, but it made little difference to him. Her soft thigh smoothed over his legs, her knee bumping into his erection.

Just that small stimulation had him breathing her in deeply, his eyes rolling back for a second, his heart jumping with lust. He could tell she was almost there, almost ready to succumb to her nature. He knew each of her signs, how she would call for him so wantonly when it was time, how her body would move enticingly, how her slick would sluice down her legs uncontrollably.

He knew her better than he knew himself. Each facial expression, each mood, each routine, each peculiarity and detail.

He felt like he knew everything there was to know of his fiancée, and it intrigued him, frustrated him endlessly to know that there was actually still so much more for him to learn.

Turning his head, he pressed kisses into her hair and let his eyes roam down the dips and swells of her form. “...I want to bond with you, Hinata.”

“But..we’re...not married..yet,” she breathily whispered, still clinging onto her consciousness before her Omega drove her instincts.

“I feel like we’re already married.”

“We...don’t technically...live together...yet.”

“I feel like we’re already bonded.”

“Mmm...we’re not..though.”

“You don’t want to bond?” he asked more pointedly.

“You know I do,” she answered immediately.

“Then why not now?”

“Because…” Her voice died there. She lifted herself up marginally, the effort apparently taxing, heat-glazing eyes barely meeting his own gaze, and he pulled her onto him for a steamy kiss. Her tongue played with and yielded to him, letting him taste her helpless moans until they needed to breathe. Panting, she murmured, “Can we?...bond now...?” Her hand trailed over his bare chest, reaching for his locked collar.

“I love you, Hinata, and I can’t find any reasons to wait anymore.”

She wiggled on him, her lips rocking hotly against his own. “I...love you..too..Naruto-kun… Please, claim...me….tonight.”

He removed himself from her side to get the keys, making sure to soothe her worries about where he was going, then he unlocked his own collar. His gland, swelling in response to her darkening scent, almost felt like it had a heartbeat of its own.

She lay back obediently as soon as he reappeared, and he moved over her as she turned her chin up, letting him unlock her own collar, and he tossed the leather to the ground unceremoniously.

His gaze lingered on her gland, swollen pretty and pink, delicate skin waiting to be broken. He could bite her right now if he wanted to. “Do you want to wait for your heat to come?”

She shook her head. “I...can’t...wait...”

Nodding, he removed his boxers as she threw her nightgown off and rolled down her soaked panties, a heavy string of slick stretching with it.

His breath grew labored as he kneeled between her creamy legs, positioned his dick at her glistening center, and quickly sunk into her marvelous warmth, penetrating her silky folds deeply. “I love you, Hinata.”

“I...love...you...Naru..to-kun…” Her breaths pushed out with his long thrusts, more slick sliding out of her and covering his pelvis. Her sweet scent was much stronger now, piercing his senses into a mindless devotion as he worked his stiff cock into her.

He fell forward, rubbing their chests together, relishing the soft give of her squirming body beneath him with a groan of approval. He found her lips, their tongues caressing each other hungrily, her breath steaming up at him with each squishy thrust.

By the end of tonight, her soft, curvy body and her beautiful, gentle mind would be entirely his. Her chocolatey scent would be his to taste for himself from the intimate source, sweet nectar on his tongue.

He nosed her exposed gland, breathing deeply, his tongue tracing the delicious swell.

“Naruto-kun,” she whispered, a tremor shaking her bodily as he licked her, her soft hold clenching around him.

Desire surged, the base of his piece already swelling. “Hinata,” he groaned, trying to hold back his eager, oncoming knot, “can I claim you from the back?”

Like in the traditional pictures. The Alpha dominating the Omega into submission first before they changed places, and the Omega ultimately choosing whether to seal the bond for life. It wasn’t the only way, but it was the one he had frequently fantasized about as a teenager whenever Hinata was absent. Maybe because he was always watching her from the back of the classroom, always noticing if she turned around.

Her light eyes gazed up at him through lowered lashes. “Yes.”

He sat up, pulling her legs together against his chest. A few thrusts into her, and she twisted onto her side, her body curving deliciously, his hands delighting in her pinched waist, her pillowy breasts, the jiggle of her ass as he slapped into her. “Fuck.” His knot was inflating fast, insisting on burying into her with each push. “On your hands and knees, Omega. Present for your Alpha.”

She gained her knees as he pulled out for a second, turning her dripping petals up to him beneath a wiggling, full ass.

He drove forward, ramming himself into her, her body opening up for his knot. He pushed himself deeper as she took the swell of him, her lower lips closing around him, locking him in like she was made for him, her body ready for his inner Alpha to claim her. Excitement thrilled through him, her gland prominently waiting for him with Hinata’s hair draped on the other side. Salivating, he leaned over her prone form, hands gliding and squeezing up her smooth body until his fingers sunk into her breasts.

He tongued her gland, relishing the flutter of her cushiony flesh conforming to his tight knot, the pleasure prickling like static. He let his teeth graze her delicate skin, the tease on his mind unbearable, yet devastating on her.

“I’m yours, I’m yours, oh, Alpha, I’m yours, please, Alpha, only yours, take me, take me-”

His lips enclosed around the swollen skin, gently suckling as she fucked herself on his knot, her ass shaking on his pelvis wildly, aromatic slick smearing all over him. “Hinata, all mine, so cute and needy on my big cock, begging for my claim.”

“Yes, yes, please…” Her repeated, begging promises overpowered the last of his control, his hand reaching further up to take hold of her slender neck, the possessive gesture wringing a mindlessly loud moan from her throat.

He bit.

She burst beneath him.

Hormone-rich flavor flooded his senses, ecstatic pleasure whipping at him like a pinch, grounding his body to hers as warmth pooled low, he was coming hard, but airy delight enfolded him, her scent and taste softly weighing through him. He clung to her shivering body, hands squeezing at her skin, his fingers reaching for more of her, his cock still twitching out cum as far as he could reach. He swallowed down more of his claim, more of the forbidden honey of her body, a devotion sealing upon him that sent his heart throbbing louder and louder, only to realize...it was hers. Her pulse and moaning breaths so clear, he couldn’t hear himself at all.

Heat spread from his chest, circulating out until he was burning uncomfortable pins and needles across his whole body, numbing him.

Except for where they touched.

He had at some point fallen to his side, tangling her to himself as close as he could. Need rippled through him. His body felt empty. His own mating gland felt tight and hot, pulling and pulsing at his neck. Her soft skin and flesh comforted him like a drug, all of his senses zeroing in on her sensation, and he needed more of her, yet his Alpha felt weak, intoxicated, incapable of taking what he wanted.

All he could do was clutch her tightly, pierce himself into her over and over as his knot softened, suck on her skin, and listen to each of her hitching cries in attempts to soothe the aches of an incomplete bond.

Her dewy gland left his lips, and in his lust-ridden daze, he wanted to pin her back down, but he couldn’t.

He couldn’t move as she pushed his shoulder, laying him flat, as she mounted him and moved upon him.

Through bleary eyes he regarded the bouncing form of his mate, each stroke making her moans sing in his mind, her heavy pulse drumming in his ears. His Alpha, drunk on his claim, murmured, My Omega, mine, encouraging his hands to pull her wide hips down to meet his weakened thrusts, fingers to lazily pull at her nipples as they jiggled in front of him. Before long, she was taking in his knot again, her flaring hips swaying as she fitted herself onto him, her soft body perfectly taking him, her Omega voice whispering so sweetly, “My Alpha...”

He strained his head to the side in a helpless plea. Never before had he felt so needy or powerless. They had learned in Health Class about how incomplete bonds could drive someone mad. How imbuing someone else’s essence within can lead to emotional, mental, and physical pain if left unanswered.

And he realized he would feel frightened if he didn’t trust her completely to take him in return, to glide her hands across his chest like he’s precious, to lean over him as her heated gasps and cries rang through him, to lowly murmur, “Mine,” an echo that alerted his senses enough for his body to gravitate up toward her, toward her kisses, her teeth, grazing, sinking…

He burned.

Strained.

Furiously released.

Her enticing, whimpering sounds urged him on.

A thick pulse from his gland, to his heart, to his cock.

Like a heavy thread tying him to her fluttering clutch around his throbbing piece, to her rapid pulse beating in his mind, to her caressing and insistent tongue and lips on his neck. His whole self, not just his dick, was knotted to her for the first time. Cum continued to spill out of him, each shot spreading fluffy euphoria over him, whitening his mind around their taut connection.

And then he could truly feel her.

Her Omega.

Pleasant, delighted comfort mirroring his own. Her beautiful emotions washing through him, completing his until he couldn’t distinguish his own high from hers.

He turned his head, pushing her face from his gland, finding hers, and drinking her in. He caught her dripping essence on his tongue, the warm, sweet taste whipping at him once more, drugging him.

Her heightened pleasure raced against his heart as she climbed the peak of ecstasy once more. Striking ecstasy surged harder and harder through their bond, her orgasm crashing through him, more cum spurting out of him as she cried out her elation.

He felt endless.

Cycled and recycled in her embrace. Needing and providing, giving and receiving, sharing and keeping.

They enjoyed their new bond straight through the start of her heat, his body not needing a break for several hours past his normal, rut-less limit. When his piece finally softened, he noticed she wasn’t exhibiting the usual symptoms of her heat, like deliriousness and confusion. He knew exactly what she wanted, and while he pleasured her with a dildo instead, she didn’t beg him for anything he couldn’t give.

She was less tired in the brief respites from her heat.

She seemed settled and happy, rather than struggling against her inner Omega’s needs.

“We should’ve bonded sooner,” he reflected aloud as they finally ate their first meal in over ten hours.

Sitting in his lap, she hummed in agreement, snuggling against his chest, and sighed, “I love you, Naruto-kun.”

“I love you, Hinata.” He smiled, meeting her content expression.

Thoughts of their parents’ reactions were far from their minds.

And of course, as soon as they broke the news when her heat was over, Hinata’s father immediately forced them to have a civil marriage at the courthouse that week, even though their wedding ceremony and celebration with guests were in only a month and a half. Hiashi made Naruto move into Hinata’s apartment immediately, even though the agreement had originally been only for her heats or his ruts.

They stood together, admiring the photographs of their wedding on the refrigerator. Hinata smiled into his chest as they embraced. “We got to get married twice,” she reflected aloud with a laugh.

“Yeah, see, not too many people get to have two weddings,” he agreed.

“And I got to have you all the time, sooner, so it’s definitely a good thing.”

“Yeah.” He squeezed her harder, despite knowing what her sinfully angelic body would do to him. He was thinking their parents, Hiashi included, must have remembered the effects of new bonds, and for that reason forced them to marry and move in together, beyond just for appearance’s sake and societal expectations…

He missed her all the time. A strange loneliness even if he was surrounded by people. And his libido was much higher than before.

He wasn’t taught that part about the bond in school.

That seeing her at the wedding in her figure-hugging gown would nearly incite an erection. That having their first dance, even in front of all their friends and family, would make him want to grind against her like they’re in the club. That just thinking of her at work would make him feel like he needed to rub one off in the bathroom.

It was like being on the tip of going into a rut, but staying at that edge for days, weeks. He could still control himself easily, but if she’s in his arms here and now, there’s really no reason to stress about it.

It affected her similarly.

She was more than willing, letting him make love to her wherever they were in the apartment, just turning around, pulling her panties down, and allowing him to fit into her so that they could satisfy the physical side-effects of their bond. “Naruto-kun,” she gasped out as she leaned against the kitchen counter.

He watched the soft skin of her ass bouncing on his hips with each of his energetic thrusts. “Hinata, you’re so sexy.”

She hummed a disagreement that turned into a yelp as he pinched her nipples, rolling them between his thumbs and forefingers until they were hard points.

“Yes, you are.” His dick twitched inside of her as she gasped tortured cries. He was going to come quickly, the need beginning to boil over even though it had only been a couple of minutes. His right hand groped her full breast, the plush skin turning him on even harder as his left reached down to find her clit.

His middle finger slid over the hot, moist hood. One gentle stroke, and she was convulsing on him. Two strokes, and she sobbed out his name.

A groan fell out as he pulled himself close to her, shoving his straining piece as deeply as he could and pulsing sweet release into her soft clutch.

She panted into the crook of her arm, letting him rest against her back. “I love you.”

Smiling tiredly into her hair, he whispered, “I love you, too.”

Quickies were a solution to ease their newly mated Alpha and Omega, and gradually, over the course of the year, their cycles calmed and fell into a synchronizing rhythm.

It’s a blessing he doesn’t take for granted. Rutting into his mate and not just any heated Omega found on dating apps. His only partner in his whole life.

There’s nothing better than knowing he’s the only one to have ever held her, the only one to have ever been inside her, to make her gasp and cry in pleasure, to have her slick dripping down his groin, and to have his name on her wanton tongue.

To be the only one she’s ever called, “Alpha…”

To be the only one she looks at with heat-stained pink cheeks and glazed, cloudy, adoring eyes.

To hear her begging for his knot, to bear his child.

He’s lucky.

“Good girl,” he mutters before smashing his lips to hers, her squeals hot on his tongue. Sucking kisses down her jaw, he buries his face at her neck and nudges into her until she opens up for his knot completely. “Take it.” Elation tickles at his extremities, and he holds her soft body closer.

Tense hands press into his back, and her silky flesh pulls at him with insistent tugs around his knot. She arches into him with mindless, urgent praises.

Hot spurts of cum leave his aching cock, and he shudders against her smaller, trembling form. Groaning, he jerks into her, pressing his straining piece as deeply as he can.

Her still-broken gasps, the pull of her body, and the vibrant scent of her gland promise him a long climax, and he imagines the concentrated seed of his rut soaking into her cervix.

She’s probably already pregnant from their first round with the fertile conditions of their bond, but that knowledge only stirs his Alpha’s primal instincts.

In some bygone evolutionary past, unmated outsiders of the pack would be drawn to a pregnant female’s “glow,” her shroud of strongly attractive aroma meant to encourage her own mate to stay close and provide...

Itʻs a medical fact that soon Hinata’s enticing scent will lure others with little self-control.

So he just needs to make sure they know she’s his.

Sitting up, he leisurely grinds into her jolting body, delighting in each tortured cry. She’s still sensitive to the touch, but he strokes the slanting curves of her hips, around to her soft thighs near his torso, then back up her body to squish into her tits. Minutes of caressing her body pass, and his knot gradually deflates, allowing him to stab into her with longer thrusts. “Hina...you feel how hard I still am for you?”

She nods with a blissful smile. “Naruto-kun,” she coos.

“Yeah.” He grabs her wrists and brings her hands down, silently encouraging her to feel their sloppy connection below.

Dutifully, her hand encircles the base of his length as he pulls out, dripping with their cum, while he has her other hand smear against her steamy womanhood. “My Alpha’s made me so wet,” she comments, her cloudy eyes lidded in sensual intimacy.

He takes her hands and flattens them against her stomach, then glides them up to her full breasts. Watching her touch herself, he groans as he penetrates back into her slick folds. “Feel how soft you are? Feel how your body makes me so hard for you?”

The pink of her cheeks deepens as she moans, and he pierces her a few more times before withdrawing once more.

He drags his cock along her thigh and rubs the mess into her creamy skin. He scoops the dribbling loads from her pussy and smoothes it across her tummy. “Rub it in.”

She does the rest without prompting, her fingers reaching down to her lower lips spread around the tip of his girth before drawing back up to trace shining patterns over her skin.

Grinding into her, he watches her hands dip over the slopes of her body, her fingers shamelessly lingering at her nipples, pleasuring herself, leaving their cum shining on her areolas. “Pretty tits,” he grunts, leaning down to nip at the jiggling, erect buds.

Suddenly she tenses up, writhing beneath him, her breasts pillowing against his face. Her stressed grip clenches at his biceps, and he looks up to see her agonized expression.

Her eyes closed in rapture.

Swollen lips wide open, her jaw working around a breathless scream.

Velvety folds tighten around him, inviting him to snuggle deeper as her creamy fluid splashes down his balls. Pride sizzles through him at the tell-tale signs of a well-loved Omega, the idea of her soon-to-be multiple, repeated orgasms exciting him.

She bucks up at him, quietly begging, “More…knot...need…knot…”

Pulling out, he flips her onto her stomach. Using his knees to spread her legs apart, he glides his piece along the length of her crack, steamy slick sticking to her ass cheeks as he compares his engorged size to her smaller body.

“Naru-”

He slides back into her spread petals, rapidly pounding into her. Avidly watching her ass bounce against him, he slaps the pale skin to bright red, earning him ecstatic squeals. That familiar pinching surges low, and he’s swollen again, his knot taut and full, but her dripping folds easily wrap around him as he pushes in.

She gasps mindless words of appreciation that devolve into a moan once he reaches beneath her to stroke her slippery clit. One, two, three hard rubs with his fingers, and her passage tightens up in rhythmic tugs on his knot.

His eyes roll back as she forces his ejaculate out, a snarl fixed into his jaw. His fingers push into her clit as he grinds into her, ensuring a torturous orgasm that leaves her breathlessly climbing another peak soon after.

“A-Alpha, oh, Alpha!” Creamy slick leaks around his knot as she writhes enticingly beneath him, and within a minute, her soaked walls are massaging his hot length once more in trembling ecstasy.

Grunting, he squirts out the last of his load, adrenaline streaming hot-cold from every extremity, tingling pleasure washing through and seeping into her.

He collapses, pulling her to their sides. Eyes falling closed, he focuses his senses on the chocolatey taste of her honey dripping on his tongue, the melty feeling of his cock nestled securely in their shared moisture, and the softness of her areolas puckered into tight nubs between his fingers. He enjoys her squirming ass in his lap, the thumping beat of her heart in the background of his mind, her loving sighs.

Teasing pleasure tickles at his inner beast, and possessive affection blooms strong within.

An instinctive pressure in his chest to hold her close and never let go.

Ebbing and flowing through his veins, emotion rising like an incoming tide. It’s still hardly the start of their first acclimated bond together; they’re only just entering the final stage of the mating process.

Her heady scent is stronger than ever, and he’s sinking into it. The pitching climax of their bond has him relinquishing control to her needs, his body easily responding to her desires. They’re reaching a new depth and alignment in their relationship that excites and mystifies him, will conceivably drag him under and rebirth him.

“Do..do you hear that?” Her breathless voice is barely audible over the faint, singing hum he can feel trembling through them, a primordial tone of mates only ever described, never recorded.

“Yeah.” Content attachment fizzes through him, bubbles across his skin, and he cuddles her close, snuggling his piece deep.

She turns her head, hot blush dusted across her cheeks, warm lips and tongue slotting perfectly with his.

He is meant for this, meant for her to be meant for him. Maybe the gods didn’t tie red threads between their fingers, but she twined him in herself. Each look, word, scrap of attention paid tangled them, sewed his soul to hers in a way their bodies can only attempt to replicate in sinfully sweet ritual.

“Naru..mm…” Her light gasps mist at his tongue with each rock into her body, and he drinks each breath in, savors the pure adoration and unremitting arousal he can taste from her lips.

“I know, Hinata, I know.” Sweet craving and even sweeter indulgence wrap beautifully about him, and he draws them deeper to sweetest release.

#naruto-smut-monday #naruhina fanfiction #naruhina fanfic #thank you for reading!#alpha/beta/omega au #a/b/o dynamics

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bubblemiya · 4 years

Text

Ace of Spades ~ Natsuo Todoroki x Reader

Chapter 1 : First day disaster

Next | Masterlist

Warnings: blood mention, abduction mention

word count: 2.2k

A/N: This is my first fic on my new blog and I am so excited about it! I hope you enjoy

**************************

You knew hero work wasn't going to be easy but there was still a tiny part of you that thought you'd be snatched up by a top agency right away with your flashy suit and unique quirk. That wasn't quite the case.

In fact the opposite happened, your strong quirk had very little drawbacks and many people saw it as dangerous, the nature of your quirk drew villain organisations to you. You defeated them, reported, even 'disposed' of some of them but there was one organisation you couldn't quite shake.

It was your loyalty to the side of heroes and your impressive skill set showcased in your fights that caught the eye of the Endeavour agency. Today was your first day at the agency, it had been a full year since your graduation from shiketsu, and it hadn't properly sank in yet until you were pulling on your hero suit in the women's changing room and a fiery haired sidekick basically pounced on you.

"Aren't you the new girl? I'm Moe Kamiji, my hero name is Burnin'"

She was beautiful, her hair was unique and her loud personality made you envy her. Her inquisitive staring distracted you and you almost tripped pulling up your body suit. She chuckled and helped steady you before offering to help you zip up.

"I'm y/n l/n, my hero name is Phantom Light"

"from what I've seen of your quirk, you're like a ghost type pokemon! that's so cool"

If she sensed your nervousness or felt the heat rising in your face, she didn't mention it. She instead just waited for you to tug on your boots and rambled about how much she loves working at the agency. Her bright attitude was nowhere near what you expected walking into a workplace run by the most intimidating man you've ever seen. She had a natural warmth to her that seemed to calm your fears. You guessed that they sic her on all the newbies at the agency because of that.

"well I'll show you around, newbie"

She looked confident and comfortable as she showed you around the main floors and you only hoped to feel the same way soon. You had already seen the reception and social media/pr team offices as they were on the way to the changing room but Moe had shown you the gyms with in-house saunas, break rooms, conferences rooms, and investigation rooms. The place was huge and despite being full of people, felt empty. It was terrifying, but still exactly what you expected from the new number one. Moe's phone beeped as you passed into another hallway and she pulled it from her bra to check.

"I regret not asking for pockets on this thing" she growled "shit, I'm being called to a villain attack not far from here, you're on your own for now, newbie." she turned to run down the hallway.

"Thank you Kami-"

"Call me Moe!" and before you could even respond she was gone. Your nerves suddenly came flooding back without your new friend there to ease them. With your 'almost fall' in the changing room and Moe leaving when you needed her most, it seemed lady luck was not on your side today. Right as you turned the corner you smacked right into someone exiting an office and they spilled their coffee down your shirt.

“Oh i’m so sorry!”

“It's ok, my hero suit is quite thick so it's not that bad” you attempted to laugh it off but paused as you finally looked up. Your blood ran cold as you realised who you bumped into. The six foot five figure of your boss loomed over you. On your first day you just so happened to bump into Endeavour's son and cause a coffee spill right in front of the man himself. “I-it was my fault any-”

“You just started today and you’re already causing problems, we scouted you because of your impressive skill set but -”

“Shut up, old man” Endeavour's face immediately twitched in anger but he listened to his son, not wanting to cause a scene with him. “It was an accident and it was both of our faults” Endeavour looked embarrassed but grunted something inaudible under his breath. “I'm Natsuo, I'm sorry about your suit, take this” he held his jacket out to you.

“Its ok, it's just a stain”

“Please I insist”

You took it, not wanting him to be offended, and you got a chance to get a proper look at him. He awkwardly scratched his neck as you put on the jacket. There was a brief moment of awkward silence before Endeavour pushed Natsuo past you and carried on walking down the hall. You shook your head to try and rid you of your shame, you hoped you had not just ruined your big shot in the hero world. You walked back down to the offices, keeping your head down as you passed Endeavour and Natsuo to avoid the awkward eye contact. Endeavour was immensely intimidating so you wanted to avoid getting further onto his bad side as much as possible. You filled out the last of your paperwork and set out on your daily patrol.

You kept the jacket on during your patrol and kept in mind that you should take it off to fight but hoped that wouldn't be necessary. You wandered your designated streets, taking in the general hustle and bustle of the town. Bike bells and shop doors opening were sounds you considered comforting. You nodded at people as you passed them, even stopping to say hi to some kids, and stopped at a cafe for a drink. You walked with your drink, hoping for a peaceful end to your work day, until the bird chirping and happy kids turned to screams for help. Your feet, as if on autopilot, followed the sounds until you turned a corner and came face to face with a guy harassing a group of high school girls. You recognised his face from the news, he was a low level villain who had abducted some high school students over the last 3 weeks. He didn't have any strong quirk that you knew of so you went straight in with a strong punch. However, in your haste, you failed to notice the knife he had concealed until he swung it in your direction and he caught your stomach. It wasn't so deep that it needed immediate attention so you continued to fight him off. you had shouted at the girls to leave the alley but they were frozen in place. Fear sometimes acts as an invisible paralytic,

one that we can't or struggle to fight against.

He had gotten in a couple of good swings but once you knocked the knife out of his hand he was pretty much useless. You gave him a harsh elbow to the nose that definitely broke it, a noise that you didn't wanna admit made you feel good and all but knocked him out with the hardest punch you could throw. While he was incapacitated you leaned down to slip him under your control into his body to possess him to make him easier to carry. Your quirk was called 'ghost' which not only gave you the ghostly ability to walk through walls but also to possess people and communicate with the dead. Your possession ability works like a telepathically controlled puppet instead of a typical spirit possession. Once you had his unconscious form up and ready to walk himself to the nearby police you made an attempt to calm the girls and make sure they followed you to the police so police could do safety checks and collect statements. You found it was easy to keep them distracted from their feelings by talking to them and answering questions they might have. You learned one of the girls, a short girl with black hair and black bunny ears, was named Hoshi.

"Are you a pro hero?"

"yup! I started at the Endeavour agency today!"

"Saturday is a weird day to start a new job"

"There's no such thing as weekends when you're a hero" you chuckled at the way she rolled her eyes.

"Don't I know it. My dad is a pro too"

"oh really?"

"yeah but he's away visiting my stepdad"

Your conversation abruptly stopped when police arrived on the scene and took both the unconscious villain and Hoshi away from your custody. The only thing left to do now was find where you had left Natsuo's jacket and head back to the agency to get stitched up. You ran back to a bench you passed to luckily find Natsuo's jacket still there. you didn't wanna get blood on it so you carried it back to the agency instead.

When you walked back in the agency building, Endeavour was standing in the office, handing paperwork to the receptionist, and he noticed you almost immediately.

"Phantom Light, what happened?"

"I got that guy who was abducting high school kids, the one that's been all over local news" Your chest felt heavy as you struggled to pant out your sentence. You were holding your free hand over the wound, putting as much pressure as possible on it to reduce bleeding.

"You're gonna need stitches, I'll take you to our in house doctor" He seemed a lot less tense than he did earlier and Natsuo was nowhere to be seen. You muttered a thank you and slowly walked behind him. He led you to a white door with a black metal name plate on it reading 'Dr.Kita'. You thanked Endeavour again and wandered into the room.

"Good work today, Phantom Light'' was the last thing he said before he shut the door behind you. He was being a lot nicer and even attempting to be encouraging which you figured was his own way of apologising for yelling at you earlier.

The doctor was a tall guy around forty with yellow eyes and brunette hair that was already starting to grey. He welcomed you and got you to lie down on the bench so that he could stitch you back up. He was very talkative, as most doctors are as a way to distract from pain, and he asked about a couple other visible scars to focus your mind elsewhere.

"I got the skin graft about a year ago, I got in a fight with some villain who had a fire quirk. I wasn't even at an agency yet, I was still looking to get scouted, but I walked past him harassing this man for money and I couldn't just walk past it" The doctor nodded as you told the story of the man with white hair and some nasty facial scars who burned you last year. You hissed as the final stitch went through and the doctor clasped his hands together.

"that's you all fixed up, now you just need to change and go home" he said, helping you off the bench and shaking your hand.

You walked back to the changing room and shoved your coffee and blood stained clothes in a bag and changed into your normal clothes. On your way out the building you passed Moe who all but begged for your phone number before you left.

The walk home was quiet and peaceful, The sunset was pretty and nice to watch as you made your way to the train station. The subway ride home had very few people and it was nice to have some time to yourself. You almost missed your stop though because your mind kept drifting back to white fluffy hair and pretty grey eyes. Natsuo was all you could think about. It didn't help that you had his jacket wrapped around you. The smell of an expensive cologne lingered around the collar, it was faint and softer than the cologne you expected him to wear. It was nice and comforting, a smell you could get used to.

Once you got back to your house you used your quirk to pass through the door - which is always locked because you used your quirk and had no reason to open it unless you were expecting food delivery. When you turned around to kick off your shoes you noticed the chain lock had been busted open. You quickly looked around the entrance to your house to check if anything was missing but everything was exactly as you left it in the morning. You dumped your duffle bag full of dirty clothes on the floor and went to check around the rest of the house. You upturned cushions, sifted through cupboards and looked underneath your copious number of house plants but everything seemed normal and in its right place. The only place left to check was your bedroom. Your hand shook as you grasped the door handle nervous to see if anything had been taken but when you walked in you couldn't see anything out of place until you turned your head to the dresser and there it was. Tucked into the frame of a photo of you and your brother sat a playing card, the ace of spades to be exact, with a time written on it.

"2:30 pm"

#bubble.natsuo #bubble.aceofspades #bubble.fic #natsuo todoroki x reader #natsuo x reader #natsuo todoroki #todoroki x reader #todoroki #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha #bnha angst #bnha fluff #x reader #bnha fic #natsuo #my hero academia

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justatiredpotato · 4 years

Text

Set Me Free | Chapter 2

Chapter List

Pairing: hybrid!Yoongi x human!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, coffee shop AU, hybrid AU

Word Count: Chapter: 7,000~ Total: 40,000~

Updates daily at 10pm MST

Warnings: anxiety, Yoongi’s life has been sad to this point I’m sorry

Summary: Yoongi, a cat hybrid, has been hurt time and time again by a world that would have him believe he’s worthless. One day he finds himself in your protective care, and gets a new family to boot. But is it really that easy to escape the past and embrace a new beginning?

Author’s Note: In this fic the reader’s name is Yeoji

Once you’d pulled yourself together a bit you joined the boys in the cafe. Jungkook already had drinks made for everyone, and Jimin brought you your favorite coffee as you entered. His brows furrowed and his lips settled into their signature pout when he noticed your tear-stained cheeks. Once you settled into one of the loveseats he immediately snuggled up to you, trying his best to curl into your lap. Taehyung quickly joined, sitting on the floor and resting his head on your lap. To your surprise, Jungkook even joined the pile of hybrids surrounding you. He hadn’t been much for cuddles since he became a teenager. Nonetheless, he squished himself into the space on the other side of you and Jimin, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest.

The sudden warmth and comfort brought tears streaming down your face again. Jungkook gently petted your hair, sniffing at it lightly to gauge your level of distress.

“It’ll be okay, noona. Hoseokie-hyung said he’ll get better,” Taehyung’s deep voice rumbled from where his cheek rested on your leg.

Jungkook lifted his head from your hair to look at you, then at Hoseok.

“Hyung, that hybrid smells weird. What’s wrong with him?” he said. The other two boys sniffed at your clothes, catching the injured man’s scent and frowning.

You turned to look at him. “What do you mean weird?” you asked, sniffling.

“Hybrid-y. But not? I don’t know how to describe it since you can’t smell it,” he tried to explain. “It seems familiar somehow.”

“It’s like, we can tell he’s a hybrid, the details aren’t there. Sort of? His scent is there, but it’s really light and… blurry?” Taehyung added, brow furrowed as he tried to find the right words.

Jimin sniffed at the curve of your neck where Yoongi had been crying. He looked up at you with wide eyes.

“You didn’t say he’s a kitty like me!” he said.

“I didn’t know for sure. I didn’t really have a chance to ask,” you said, petting his hair mindlessly.

“It sounds like he’s using some kind of scent-supressing product?” Jin said.

“Woah, aren’t those like, expensive?” Jimin asked.

“Yeah, and they’re bad for you. Since they’re marketed toward… “stray” hybrids, they aren’t regulated very well. Some of them cause really bad skin irritation,” Jin said. “I’ve seen people come into the shelter who’ve used them.”

“They can make your hair fall out too,” Jungkook said. You all looked at him, surprised. “I’ve never used them, but some hybrids that looked after me before I met you guys got ahold of some. They said it was worth it if it kept you out of the shelters.”

No one said anything to that. Jungkook didn’t mention the time before he came to live with you and Joon very often. Being alone on the streets as a child was traumatic to say the least. You grabbed his hand and twiddled his fingers.

“Well, he doesn’t need to worry about that now. He doesn’t have to hide here,” you said.

“Is he staying?” Taehyung asked hopefully. Namjoon raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“He isn’t going to be your new favorite kitty, is he?” Jimin asked, nuzzling further into your t-shirt. You laughed, smoothing over his ears with your free hand.

“Don’t worry Jimin, you’ll always be special to me. And I’ll always have room for more sweet kitties in my life.” You squished his cheeks, making him giggle.

“Did you convince him to stay here?” Namjoon asked.

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “I barely stopped him from running out into the snow right now. He was about to go pick up a set of clothes from the alley and leave.”

“I think he trusts you,” Hoseok said. “If you’re up to it, he might be willing to stay here. I doubt he’s felt as safe as he does with you for a long time.”

“Of course, he can stay. I hope he does. I just wish I’d known sooner. He must’ve had such a hard time. He comes in every day, I can’t believe I missed this!”

“Not every day,” Jungkook corrected. You looked at him, waiting for an explanation. “He only comes in when you’re working. Did you really think a broke street performer was buying fancy coffee every day just because? You don’t need hybrid senses to know he was coming in for you.”

You felt Jimin nod, another giggle escaping his lips.

“You seriously didn’t figure it out, noona? I noticed the first time I met him.”

“All this time…” You thought back over the last year or so. “I only asked his name a couple of months ago.”

“It’s okay, noona. You see a lot of people,” Namjoon said in an attempt to make you feel better.

“Not a lot of people that come in every day, and smile at you like you made their day by remembering their order,” you said. You spiralled, thinking about how all of this could’ve been prevented if you’d just asked him anything. “All of my regulars don’t wear the same ragged clothing every day, and come in without an umbrella when it's pouring rain, or no coat when it’s going to snow, they don’t order the cheapest item on the menu like it’s a delicacy.” You leaned out of the boys’ embrace and put your head into your hands. When had you started crying again?

“It’s not your fault, noona. Nobody knew,” Tae said, attempting to pull your hands away from your face. But that statement somehow made it worse. Because he was right; no one knew, because no one had bothered to ask. He’d obviously been starving on the street and no one noticed. The quiet tears had devolved to hiccuping sobs again and Tae stood on his knees to hug you.

“I should’ve asked,” you cried into his chest. “I should’ve noticed he wasn’t okay. He hasn’t been okay the whole time I’ve known him.” Taehyung clutched you tighter, wishing he could fix this for you.

“But you know now. You helped him when no one else did. And he’s safe now. You did that. And he’s so lucky to know you,” he said. He kept mumbling comforting words until you calmed down a bit.

“I should go check on him,” you said as you stood.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Hoseok asked.

“You can check on him, but then you need to go home. It’s late and I know you work tomorrow,” you said, running a hand over your face.

“Do you want us to stay?” Joon asked.

“No, I think I’ll just close the shop for tomorrow. One day won’t kill my profits. Then I can help him look through his things and replace what he needs.”

“I’ll bring some clothes in the morning to get him by,” Jin said. He wrapped you in a hug before leading the boys out to the car. They all gave you hugs, Jimin lingering and gracing you with comforting purrs before letting you go.

Hoseok followed you back into the apartment, catching your wrist to stop you before you entered your bedroom.

“Hey, I didn’t want to mention this in front of the others, but be careful with him, alright?” He nodded toward Yoongi. “I don’t know how he was living before, but he’s pretty scarred up.”

Your eyes widened. “What kind of scars?”

“I can’t say for sure,” he said, pausing for a long moment before meeting your eyes. “They seem to be from some kind of assault.” He sighed heavily, suddenly looking very tired. “It would explain why he was so skittish when I was patching him up. The most recent lash marks on his back were at least a few years old.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Lash marks? Oh god. What happened to him?”

“Look, this is really something you should hear from him. I don’t feel right sharing his private information like this.”

“Of course, you’re right. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Just, be gentle with him, noona. He’s been through a lot,” Hoseok said with a sad smile.

You spent an hour or so after the boys left trying to clean up some of the personal items they’d managed to salvage. The ragged clothes went into the wash, and you did your best to dry out any notebook pages that weren’t smudged beyond recognition. Your counters and dining table ended up covered with crinkled pages weighted down with whatever you could find. You rummaged around in the hall closet and pulled out a fan, setting it to blow over the mess of papers. Yoongi’s backpack sat forlorn on the floor next to the table.

You debated whether you should pull out the contents and try to dry them out, but decided against it. The last thing you wanted was for him to feel you’d further invaded his privacy. His keyboard was already well-worn when you’d seen him playing it on the streets outside. But looking at it you doubted it would work at all now. For some reason looking at the battered instrument made your eyes water again.

You turned away quickly and instead went to the kitchen to make another warm drink, not worried about the caffeine despite the late hour. You settled onto your couch, wrapping a fluffy blanket around your shoulders and holding the warm mug in both hands. At some point you must’ve dozed off, because a soft grunt woke you. You blinked, a bit disoriented waking up somewhere other than your bed. Early morning light was streaming through the windows. Glancing at the clock you found it was already 9am. You turned toward the sound that had woken you and found Yoongi slouched in the bedroom doorway. He glanced around nervously before meeting your eyes.

“Hey,” he said, voice scratchy from sleep and the tears of the night before.

“Hey. What are you doing up?” You rose and made your way around the couch toward him. “Are you hungry?”

“Don’t worry about it. I just figured I should start getting my stuff together,” he said, already making his way toward his bag.

“I can help you with that later. For now let's get some food in you. You shouldn’t even be on your feet yet. I’ll get your bag for you.”

You gently took his arm and guided him to the couch instead. He seemed to consider resisting, but thought better of it. His slight frame was stiff against your side, but he started to lean on you a bit after he nearly tripped on the living room rug. You settled him onto the couch and took the blanket you were wrapped in, tucking it around his shoulders. He nodded his thanks and pulled the blanket up around his head to cover his ears as well. You turned to hide your smile at the cute gesture and brought him his bag.

Once he was settled in where you could keep an eye on him you went to the kitchen to put some breakfast together.

“Are there any foods you don’t like?” you call, pulling out bread and cheese since you already knew he liked cheese toast.

“Anything is fine,” he said, ducking his head in thanks. You nodded, thinking before pulling out some sausage and eggs as well. The boy needed to get some meat on his bones. You glanced over at him on occasion watching as he pulled a laptop out of the bag and opened it. He seemed to sigh in relief—apparently it still worked. He rummaged around for another moment before looking around the room.

“Missing something? I can go look for it, whatever it is.”

He didn’t answer, instead scanning over all the surfaces in the room with wide eyes.

“My notebooks… Did you-?” He met your eyes, seemingly shocked.

“Oh, yeah. I laid out what looked salvageable to dry. Hopefully most of it is still alright. I wasn’t trying to snoop, but I couldn’t help reading some. They’re lyrics, right?”

He nodded, eyes focused on his hands fidgeting on his lap.

“They’re really good, what I saw, I mean. You’re talented. Maybe you could show me some of your music sometime? If you’d be comfortable with that.”

He winced, glancing at the keyboard on the loveseat to his left.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to play anything for you. Sorry.” The wobble in his voice made your heart clench. You put the finished meal on a tray and made your way over to sit beside him on the couch.

“We can get you a new one,” you offered weakly. He nodded, blinking rapidly.

“It’s not a big deal. The thing was a piece of s*** anyway.” He tried to sound dismissive, and you didn’t push the matter, instead making him a plate and setting it in front of him before making your own. You glanced at him expectantly, but he wasn’t eating.

“Do you want something else? I can see what else I have if this doesn’t look good. I need to run to the store later-”

“No, it’s just- You didn’t say I could-” He stopped when your eyebrows shot up, eyes wide. His face flushed bright red as he shifted uncomfortably. “You didn’t say I’m allowed to eat.”

Your stomach flipped uncomfortably as you realized what he was implying. “Yoongi, you don’t have to get my permission to eat.” He shrank in on himself, but you didn’t let it go. Your hand came to rest gently on his arm.

“Hey, look at me. You’re my guest, not a pet or a- a-” You cringed, not even wanting to say the alternative ways people described hybrids. You shook your head, trying to clear the anger that flared up when you thought of how poorly he must’ve been treated before you knew him. “You are a person, Yoongi. I am going to treat you like a person, because you deserve that. Okay?”

He nodded, face hidden behind the hem of the blanket still tucked over his head. The two of you ate in silence after that. You observed carefully, making sure Yoongi cleared his plate and coaxing him into seconds as well. Once you were satisfied he’d eaten enough, you stood to clear the dishes.

“Coffee?” you asked as you headed back to the kitchen to make a cup for yourself. He glanced up from his bundle of blankets with a shy smile and a nod.

“The usual?” you asked. He didn’t respond and you glanced up to find him debating something. “Why? Do you want something else? You can have whatever you want, Yoongi.”

“Can I have cream?” he asked quietly.

“Of course you can have cream! How much?”

“Whatever you think,” he answered.

“So, a lot?” you said with a grin. His small smile grew and he nodded. You returned to your spot on the couch a few minutes later with two cups of coffee. You handed him his, and his eyes widened when he saw the pile of whipped cream you’d added.

“Good?” you asked hopefully.

He gave you a gummy grin before taking a big sip. You couldn’t help but giggle, delighted by the first genuine smile you could recall seeing from him.

“It’s great,” he said smiling again as he licked the line of sweet cream off his upper lip. You laughed at the spot that still stubbornly remained on his nose. Without thinking, you reached out and swiped it away with your finger. He had a pretty adorable nose, so you’d be lying if you said the impulse to boop it hadn’t crossed your mind before. He went cross-eyed for a second as he followed the gesture. A low chuckle escaped him and you felt warmth spread through your chest at the oddly comforting sound.

“Thank you. For everything, I mean,” he said, gesturing with his mug but obviously meaning much more.

“I meant what I said last night. You can stay as long as you want. I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“I don’t want to be a burden. I’m already indebted to you, and I have no way to pay you back. And then there’s your friend’s medical supplies-”

“You mean Hobi? Don’t even try. There’s no way he’ll accept money for helping someone who needed it. I’m honestly surprised he lets the hospital pay him his salary,” you said with a laugh, trying to deflect the conversation.

“Well, I have to get these clothes back to that other guy-”

“Jin.”

“Yeah, right. Where are my clothes, by the way?” he asked, glancing at the items you’d sorted through that were scattered around the room.

“Oh, right! I have to change out the laundry,” you said. You stood to hang the clean things and put in the next load. “I washed what the guys brought in last night. Everything you were wearing except for the hoodie was ruined. Sorry.”

He visibly reddened, remembering the ordeal he’d woken to the previous night.

“Right, of course.” He paused. “Hey, did you see my hat?”

“Hat? Why? Are you cold? I can turn the radiator up. Do you want more blankets-”

“No, I just- I don’t like to show my ears,” he said quietly. You paused, setting the clean laundry aside to sit with him again.

“Why not?” you asked gently.

“It’s just- I don’t like to. People treat me differently when they know what I am. I want people to treat me like a person, you know?” he said, scratching at his ears under the blanket.

“Knowing you’re a hybrid doesn’t make me think any less of you. So please don’t feel like you have to hide anymore. At least not with me,” you said.

He held your gaze for a moment before he apparently came to a decision. He slid the blanket back down to his shoulders. His ears were covered in soft looking black fur, though it was thin in patches near the top.

“From keeping them under a hat all the time,” he explained. “They look gross, I know,” he said. He was clearly anxious and he almost pulled the blanket back up. You stopped him though, smiling softly because he was just so dang cute. He examined your expression.

“No, they’re- You’re actually even cuter this way,” you said absently. His ears twitched and a blush crept across his cheeks again. Your eyes widened and your own cheeks grew red as you realized what you said.

“I’m sorry, was that rude? That was a weird thing to say, I’m sorry,” you backpedaled. Surely you’d made him uncomfortable now, just as he was opening up to you.

“No, no. It’s fine. That’s actually really nice of you to say.”

You gave him a gentle smile and with a nod of your head, turned back to the laundry. The morning then settled into a comfortable silence. The quiet hum of the radiator and the soft rustling of the blanketed man sitting next to you blended with the random b-movie you found on Netflix.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Jin came by late that morning to drop off some clothes for Yoongi. You let him in and poured him a cup of coffee before settling at the table with your own.

“So, how’s he doing?” he asked, glancing around and noticing Yoongi’s absence.

“Better. He got up and ate with me this morning. I put on a movie and he napped through most of the afternoon.” You looked over your shoulder toward your bedroom door. As soon as you’d told Yoongi that Jin was on his way he’d scurried off to the bathroom to take a shower. You told Jin as much.

“Yeah, he didn’t seem to care for me; or Hoseok for that matter. Seems to trust you though.”

“I guess. He still seems like he’s waiting for me to throw him out, or hurt him somehow. Earlier he-” You cut yourself off, not wanting to violate the trust that Yoongi had placed in you.

“What?” Jin prompted. “Did something happen?”

You paused, debating. Jin was probably the best person to help you help Yoongi. You sighed, deciding to ask him about what Yoongi had said.

“He was waiting for me to give him permission to eat…” you said, shifting uncomfortably. “I told him that he never has to ask something like that, that he’s a guest. But that seemed to make him even more nervous?”

You met Jin’s eyes again and found a grimace on his face.

“Just be patient. It sounds like he wasn’t very used to kindness where he was before,” he said vaguely.

“Where he was before? Do you know something? Please, I just want to know how to help him.”

“I think I know places like it.” He shuddered. “Look, if he wants to talk about it I’m sure he’ll come to you. For now just keep an eye on him. Hoseok seemed shaken after he treated his wounds last night. He’s seen lots of cases like this at the shelter… Is there something else going on with Yoongi? Something you haven’t told me?”

You pulled your knees up to your chest, tucking in your chin. You thought of what Hoseok said about the scars he saw; some from others, some probably self-inflicted. You found your eyes tearing up again, but quickly shook off the feeling.

“It’s not really my place to say. I already feel like I’m already sharing a lot of his personal information with you. I don’t want to break his trust,” you said, blinking rapidly to clear your eyes.

“I understand.” Jin nodded. He ruffled your hair. “Just promise that you’ll tell me if you need help. You or Yoongi.”

He pinned you with a stern look and held your gaze until you nodded. He smiled approvingly.

“I better get going so he can come out.”

You walked him to the door, and he turned to wrap you in a tight hug.

“I know you’ve gotta be strong for him, he needs you. But don’t forget that the boys and I, and your lil’ bro, we’re here to be strong for you,” he said. You nodded against his chest, squeezing him tightly before pulling away. Jin waved goodbye and crept down the sidewalk toward his car, stepping gingerly to avoid slipping on the ice.

You turned around and nearly jumped out of your skin when you found Yoongi peeking out of your bedroom.

“Geez, you scared me!” you exclaimed, making his ears twitch before they flattened remorsefully against his head.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Yoongi. I’m not upset with you,” you reassured him gently, cursing yourself for reacting harshly in the first place. You held out the bag Jin had left to him. “My friend brought you a change of clothes. Hopefully they’ll fit you better than those pajamas.”

“That’s not necessary.” He tried to wave the bag away. “I can just wear my old stuff now that it’s dry.”

“Your old stuff got pretty messed up last night, Yoongi. I have to run to the store so I was going to see if you wanted to come along. We can pick up some things for you there,” you said. He looked at you blankly for a moment before looking away. He seemed to hunch in on himself again. You took a step forward, alarmed by his sudden change in demeanor.

“Why are you doing this?” he said quietly.

“What?” you asked, not sure you heard him right.

“Look, I appreciate you patching me up, but I’m not looking for a new owner.”

You blinked, horrified that he thought that of you.

“Yoongi, I’m not trying to own you. If Jin or Hobi were having a hard time, I’d help them. I’m your friend, Yoongi. Or at least I’d like to be. I take care of my friends.”

“I won’t just mooch off of you, Yeoji-ssi. I can take care of myself,” he argued.

“Why don’t I give you a job then?” you suggested. “I have two other part-timers at the shop, but with Kookie starting uni this spring and Jimin taking more time off for dance, I could use the extra help. You can earn your keep.”

“But I can’t just have you buy me stuff,” he said, still hesitant.

“Just think of it as an advance. You can keep all the receipts if it makes you more comfortable. Then you can pay me back when you’re able to.”

He pondered your offer for a moment, scanning your face. “Are you sure you aren’t… uncomfortable? Having me here, I mean?” he asked, scuffing his sock-bundled toes on the hardwood.

“Actually, I realized this morning how nice it is to have someone around.”

His ears twitched as he considered, before agreeing with a small nod. You smiled, relieved that he wasn’t set on running off at any moment.

“Why don’t you go get changed? Then I’ll get ready and we can head to the store.” He nodded again, taking the bag from you and heading to the bathroom to get dressed.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

By the time you and Yoongi left the house it was mid-afternoon. Yoongi wasn’t thrilled with the pastel blue hoodie that Jimin had loaned him, but the clothes definitely fit him better than Jin’s had. At least the hems of his jeans weren’t dragging in the snow, and the boots were keeping him warm. Jin had also supplied a cozy puffy coat which made Yoongi look even more soft and cuddly than usual. He topped off the look with his trusty beanie, which you didn’t question.

You walked to the garage where you parked your car, humming softly as you appreciated the fresh fallen snow preserved on the tops of flower pots and inside the tiny fenced yards that lined the front of the apartment buildings on your block. You glanced into the alley, checking for cars before crossing, and images from the night before flashed before you. You pushed them away and hurried onward, grabbing Yoongi’s sleeve to tug him along with you.

The garage was relatively empty; only a few people venturing out on a cold, sleepy Sunday afternoon. The sunshine was deceptive, as the cold wind still stung your cheeks. You stuffed your hands in your coat pockets, cold despite your gloves and many layers.

When you got in the car you pulled out your phone and opened up your shopping list before handing it to Yoongi.

“Can you help me write a list on the way?”

He nodded.

“Great. Do you have a favorite food? Anything in particular you want to get?” you asked.

“Anything is fine.”

“Yoongi,” you whined, nudging him with your shoulder. “I’m serious. I’m not picky, and I hate making decisions. You’d be doing me a favor.”

He thought for a long moment before answering. “Meat.”

You stared at him blankly. “That’s it? That’s all I have to work with? Come on, give me something more specific.”

“I like steak, and bulgogi, and japchae when you add lots of beef. Samgyeopsal is good too. And the bacon we had this morning…” He continued to list dishes, and you nodded, humming appreciatively when he mentioned one of your favorites. Once he finished he had a solid list. You chuckled, looking at him fondly. You certainly wouldn’t run out of meal ideas.

The shopping center came into view, and soon enough you were headed inside. The large building contained a wide variety of stores, selling clothing, technology, furniture, and groceries, as well as several restaurants and services. Jin’s shelter was just down the road, which was part of the reason you frequented that particular mall.

“Alright, let’s pick up some essentials for you first,” you said. “Any particular store you’d like to try?”

Yoongi shook his head no, looking around curiously. A group of women walked by, laughing and chatting loudly. You stepped aside and found that Yoongi had moved closer, almost hiding behind you. You scanned his face, noting his slight frown and the ways his eyes were glued to his shoes. He glanced up to meet your eyes and you flashed him a bright smile.

“Let’s start over here.” You grabbed his sleeve and started guiding him to a shop in the opposite direction of where the women had gone. The store you entered was one of your favorites: not terribly expensive, but the quality was good, and their clothes weren’t outlandish or uncomfortable, which seemed to be in style most places.

Yoongi wandered between the racks of clothing throwing socks and underwear in the basket without even really looking. Then he wandered into the racks off toward the tops browsing the styles.

“What would you like me to wear?” he asked you absently. You blinked, cringing at the implication.

“Whatever you want to, Yoongi. You don’t have to check with me,” you said, trying to mask your reaction. Just what kind of life had he been living? He looked up at you and nodded seriously.

“Okay, can I still ask what you think of things though?”

“Of course! Do you see anything you like?”

He took his time pulling out sweaters and long-sleeved t-shirts usually in black or white. He held each up to you in turn, asking your thoughts. You tried to read his expressions so you could be enthusiastic about the things he liked most, but he kept his face neutral, carefully observing your reactions.

After the first couple items he picked you started to notice that while his face stayed blank, his ears were a little more expressive. They twitched forward happily when he seemed to like something, but flicked sideways and flattened when he was uncertain. You tried to hide a pleased grin at this new information, nodding enthusiastically when he held up one he liked. Once he had a modest pile of shirts and sweaters he grabbed a couple pairs of jeans.

“Do you want to try those on first?” you asked, noticing how he held them up uncertainly.

“Yeah, that might be good. I’m not sure if these will fit with my tail.” He headed toward the fitting rooms. You browsed the coats while you waited for him, pulling a couple things off the rack that you thought might suit his taste.

He reemerged with a couple pairs of jeans to add to the basket.

“Do you like any of these?” You held out the coats you’d picked. He looked at them in turn, pausing when he found one that he seemed to like.

“This one is cool,” he mumbled, his voice more of a low growl. The sound made you feel oddly warm and calm, and you couldn’t help but smile at him as he squished the puffy material. “Feels cozy.” He confirmed with an approving nod. You giggled, happy to see him enjoying himself. He graced you with an adorable smile in return.

You made your way to the checkout, Yoongi picking up a couple of beanies on the way. He shifted anxiously on his feet behind you as the cashier rang up your purchases. You felt him peering over your shoulder as the total climbed, and when you went to swipe your card, he stopped you.

“Yeoji-ssi, this is too much. Let’s put some of this back.”

“Absolutely not,” you said, not giving him room to argue as you swiped the card. “I already saw you put back several things that I know you liked. Besides, Jin said you can keep the boots, so that’s one less expense.”

“But-” he started to protest again. “Yoongi.” You stopped him softly and took his hand. “I’m making up a rule for just today. No stressing about money for today. Please, I want to do this for you.”

He relented, grabbing the bags as you took the receipt.

“I’ll give you the receipts tomorrow, and we can talk about your wages at the shop then, okay?”

“Yeah,” he agreed. He was quiet for a moment, before he spoke again. “I’m sorry for arguing with you. I’ll listen better from now on.”

“I don’t want you to listen to me Yoongi, I just want you to let me do things for you sometimes. But please tell me if you ever feel like I’m ordering you around. That’s the last thing I want.”

“Thanks.”

You turned to him and smiled. “Thank you for trusting me.”

On the way to the grocery store you stopped to buy Yoongi a phone, since his old one was trashed.

“I’m sorry it’s nothing fancy, I just got you the same model as mine.”

“Nah, this is super nice. My old one was just something I bought off of some guys I hung around with. You can actually get games and stuff on this, and the screen isn’t cracked!” he said, holding up the phone cheerfully and giving you a blindingly sweet smile. You laughed and reached up to ruffle his hair, like you would with the other boys. He stiffened and flinched away from your hand and you recoiled, realizing what you’d done.

“Oh crap, I’m sorry Yoongi! I didn’t mean to touch you without asking,” you said quickly, holding your hands out in front of you.

“It’s alright.” He tried to reassure you, gently grabbing your hands in one of his. “It’s just a reflex. I know you aren’t gonna hit me or anything.” He glanced awkwardly away from you, but didn’t let go of your hand.

“Are you sure? You have to promise that you’ll tell me if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

“I promise. I trust you, Yeoji-ssi,” he said with an almost shy smile.

“So, is this okay?” you ask, clasping his hand in yours as you walked together. “The boys like to hold hands when we go out.”

He nodded, adjusting his grip on the bags in his free hand. You continued on to the grocery store in comfortable silence, swinging your linked hands between you.

You were forced to let go when you entered the grocery store so you could get a shopping cart. Yoongi placed his shopping bags in the cart before offering to push the cart for you. You happily accepted so you could focus on your list. The store was thankfully pretty empty since you’d come at an odd hour, so you were able to grab the items you needed quickly.

You found yourself observing Yoongi as he observed everything else. He seemed fascinated by the wide variety of foods available, asking the purpose of items here and there. You weren’t a particularly skilled cook, but you answered him the best you could. When he seemed particularly interested in an item, you casually added it to your cart, acting as if it had been on your list the whole time. If he noticed, he chose not to comment. The cart was getting rather full, and he walked a little quicker to catch up with you.

“Yeoji-ssi, do you usually buy this much? You’re not spending a lot of extra money because of me, right?” His brow furrowed, clearly concerned.

“Are you kidding? I have six boys in and out of my house all week. I can hardly keep my kitchen stocked,” you said with a laugh. Was that a bit of an exaggeration? Yes. Would you still use it as an excuse to buy Yoongi as much food as he could possibly eat? Absolutely. Your heart hurt at how skinny he was, noticeable even in his fluffy winter clothes.

Once you were satisfied with your heaping cart of provisions you headed to the checkout. As the total climbed you tried to keep a straight face and swipe your card without hesitation. The cafe was busy lately, you could manage this. Especially with an extra part timer and the festival starting tomorrow.

Yoongi walked with a spring in his step, pushing the cart toward your car. You heard a car approaching so you slowed your pace as you approached a corner. As you leaned to peek around and check, a white car whipped around the corner, cutting close to the beam you stood by and moving fast. Yoongi sprang forward, yanking you back by your coat. You fell, causing both of you to crash into the concrete wall. Yoongi grunted, glaring up at the car as it sped away. His grip on you tightened, and you pushed gently on his chest so you could get a look at his face.

“Oh my god! Yoongi, are you okay?” you asked, frantically checking him over as best you could. His arms still wrapped tightly around you, pinning you to his chest as he stared blankly after the car.

“Yoongi? Yoon, are you okay?” you asked again when you didn’t get a response. You gently put a hand on his cheek to turn him to look at you.

“Huh?” he said, his expression almost distant. He blinked, then seemed to refocus on you. “Yeah, I just thought I recognized the driver. No big deal.”

He looked around and his eyes widened. He released you darting off down the slope after the shopping cart. He caught up to it just before it slammed into the only other car on the level. You watched him as he returned. Though he kept his head down, his eyes kept darting around, searching for potential threats. He was panting, winded from the short run because of his still healing injuries. Once he reached you you slipped your arm around his, giving what you hoped was a reassuring squeeze. You smiled up at him, and he returned it, though it didn’t seem to reach his eyes.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

As soon as you’d hauled the groceries back and put them away you started preparing dinner. As per Yoongi’s request you were having steak and some vegetables you roasted in the oven. Yoongi had gathered his papers, which were still scattered on every available surface, then hurried off to the bedroom to put away his clothes. He seemed touched that you’d emptied a drawer in your large dresser for him.

Left alone in the kitchen, you thought about the incident in the parking garage. Who would Yoongi have recognized? It was unlikely that the driver was another hybrid, since they couldn’t get a driver’s licence. You thought of his scars. What if it had been a former owner? One of the people who hurt him? You shuddered. Anger welled up in you as you clutched the pan handle in your fist. They could’ve recognized him. They might try to take him back. Frustrated tears welled up in your eyes. Would you be able to protect him if they did?

“Yeoji-ssi,” Yoongi called. You turned to face him, finding him delightfully cozy. You forced yourself to push aside your worries for a moment and be happy with him. He wore that gummy smile you were quickly coming to love, clearly pleased with his new clothes. He wore baggy sweatpants and a fluffy black sweater. You noted with delight that he was also sporting a pair of fuzzy white socks that you hadn’t even seen him pick up.

“You look very cozy,” you said, returning his smile.

“Don’t laugh! My feet get cold,” he pouted. Wow, this boy was trying to melt you into a puddle on the floor.

“No, I mean it!” You laughed. “My feet get cold too.”

“Actually,” he said, shuffling closer to you. “There were two pairs. If you want one, I mean.” He held out a pair of sunshine yellow socks, like his. If he’d been looking you in the eye he would’ve seen hearts shooting out of them. Every minute with him just confirmed that you would do anything to keep this boy safe.

“Thank you, Yoongi! That is so sweet of you,” you said. You ruffled his hair, then put them on right away.

“I know you technically paid for them. But I’m paying you back for everything soon, so just think of it as an advance gift,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Ah, right. Why don’t we talk more about that while we eat?” You took the dishes of food to the table. “Can you grab us silverware? It’s in that third drawer.” He quickly grabbed forks and knives and joined you. You settled in and gave him a while to enjoy the food before you started talking.

“So, you’re okay with working at the cafe?” you asked.

He nodded, mouth still full of food. You smiled, glad to see him eating happily.

“In that case, I’ll show you around tomorrow. Jungkook works tomorrow, so he can help you figure things out. He’s a rabbit hybrid.”

Yoongi seemed to tense at the mention of a new person.

“He’s like my baby brother,” you continued. “My little brother Namjoon and I took him in right around when I finished college. He was about fourteen then. He’s really shy, but I think the two of you will get along.” Talking about your little brothers reminded you of something else.

“By the way, how old are you?”

“I was born in ‘93,” he said.

“Ah, so you’re hyung to everyone but Jinnie! Feel free to boss the kids around a bit,” you joked. “And you can call me noona, if you want. No need to be so formal.”

He nodded obediently. You took in his reaction before adding.

“Unless you are more comfortable calling me by my name! Whatever you pre-”

“No, I like that. Calling you noona, I mean.”

You did your best to hide the goofy smile he brought to your face. “You want seconds?” you offered, already getting up to refill his plate.

“I’m okay.”

“Are you sure you can’t eat more?”

“I mean, not that I can’t,” he conceded.

“You need to eat more, Yoongi. You’re too thin. Remember Hoseok, the doctor that treated you? He said you need to put on some weight. Do you think you could eat a little more, please?” you asked, trying your best to hit him with some puppy-dog eyes, which you learned from Jimin, ironically.

“Okay. Not too much, okay?”

“Right! I don’t want you to get sick,” you assured him.

You filled his plate and sat with him until he ate his fill.

“I’ll get the receipts together for you in the morning. I pay my other part-timers $**.** and hour, does that sound fair?” you asked.

His eyes went wide. “That much? Even with their owners getting a cut, that’s a lot for a hybrid,” he marvelled.

You frowned. “Owners getting a cut? Yoongi, that’s not how it works with us. That money is theirs. They earned it. Jungkook decided he wanted to earn his spending money while he goes to school. And Jimin started paying for his own dance classes when he turned eighteen. But neither Namjoon or Jin would take their money from them.” You reached across the table to take Yoongi’s hand. “They’re family, so they take care of each other. That’s all I’m trying to do for you here. The odds are stacked against you, and you’ve been through more than anyone deserves. I just want you to know I’m in your corner, and you have a family now, if you want it.”

You finished and caught your breath. You hadn’t really planned on making a speech, but you needed him to know where he stood, and how you felt about everything. You looked at him, waiting for a response, but he just kept his eyes focused on where your hands held his on the table between you. Anxiety rose in your stomach. You’d made him uncomfortable. Now he probably wanted to leave. Why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut?

You loosened your grip on his hands, prepared to let go and give him some space but his fingers tightened around yours. You lowered your head a bit, trying to get a look at his face which was hidden by his bangs. You were about to say something when he finally spoke.

“Thank you, noona.” His voice trembled and he squeezed your hands tighter. After a moment he looked up, eyes shiny, and found tears already streaming down your cheeks. You met his eyes and smiled, taking a moment to gather yourself.

“Movie?” you suggested.

He nodded happily, releasing your hands and heading to the couch. You dabbed at your face with your sleeves before joining him. He’d already grabbed a blanket and curled up, making himself impossibly small. You grabbed the remote and started flicking through netflix. There was a new original movie out which promised to be painfully cheesy.

“You up for a rom-com-cringe-fest?” you asked, looking over at Yoongi.

His feline eyes scanned the synopsis curiously. “I haven’t seen a lot of movies, so I’m sure it’ll be interesting.”

That simple statement saddened you, reminding you of how many things had been taken from him. He must’ve sensed the shift in your mood, because his ears flattened a little in nervousness. You flashed him a smile.

“That’s one way to describe it. Let’s give it a shot!” you said, pressing play. As the opening credits rolled you glanced over at Yoongi, who was shuffling to find a comfy position.

“Can I-” you started, then stopped yourself. He looked at you, ears perked, giving you his full attention. When you didn’t answer he made a low, rumbling ‘hm?’ sound in his throat.

“I was just thinking, when I watch movies with Jungkook and the other boys- Well, Jimin is a cat hybrid and he likes when I play with his hair and pet his ears…” you trailed off, trying to gage his reaction. He blinked. You’d caught him off guard. The brief silence made you nervous, so you quickly tried to take it back.

“Is that weird? Dammit I’m sorry I keep doing that-” You were interrupted when Yoongi’s head settled in your lap with a soft thud. He pulled the blanket over with him, tucking it around your legs as he settled. You smiled, not speaking any further as you gently ran your fingers through his dark hair, smoothing it away from his face. You scratched at the base of his ears, and quickly started hearing an unmistakable rumble. Yoongi tensed, and you could see his face grow red in the light of the TV.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it. You can stop if you want,” he said, hiding his face in the blanket on your lap.

“Actually, it’s nice. I love purrs. You know they’re healing? Cats don’t just purr because they’re happy. They do it to comfort their sick or scared friends. At least that’s what Jimin told me. So I feel special when one of my friends purrs around me,” you assured him, continuing to pet his hair. He glanced up at you, a small smile playing on his lips as he nodded and returned his attention to the movie.

He barely made it past the ten minute mark. You quickly found yourself watching the movie alone, Yoongi’s adorable blend of purring and quiet snores making an oddly peaceful background noise. You yourself soldiered on for forty more minutes before also falling asleep.

#yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #suga fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #hybrid!au #cafe!au #hybrid!yoongi #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #suga #bts #bts suga #bts yoongi

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multisfabulis · 3 years

Text

Wayfinder’s Voyage

Oceanic (Chapter 1 | 2)

Word Count: 5785

I hope everyone enjoyed reading this! I'm honestly super anxious while I'm typing this because, not only is this my first fic in the KH fandom, this is also my first ship fic so I'm feeling a lot of pressure.

I want to apologize if the characters seem OOC in this, I was mainly going off of memory and a Wiki because I didn't want to sit through an entire LP of BBS just to get a few details accurate. It already took me a month and a half to write all of this and I didn't want to take up more time.

I do have more Terraqua fics in the works, as well as a couple other KH fics in general, but those will probably be posted way later. I just wanted to test the waters with this fic and see how I do so...

So some things to note:

*Both Aqua and Terra's first scenes in this fic were made entirely for the purpose of giving them build-up while not diminishing Ven's importance to them. I was already going to be fucking with canon a lot but I also didn't want to leave Ven to the wayside so I created those scenes. You'll see Terra's in the next chapter.

*I feel the need to apologize for the second half of the second scene because that still feels like word barf, even when I know why I wrote it like that. I hope the intention behind those words is still conveyed clearly but I'll understand if it's not.

*As for the last scene, I completely misremembered the sequence of events leading up to the end. I already knew that scene was going to be changed somewhat just for the context of the ship but I think it's pretty clear which parts I changed on purpose and which parts I was winging it. It's been years since I last watched that scene, it was super late into the night, this was my third rewrite, and I felt satisfied with my work before realizing I fucked up and decided to go along with it.

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Today started out like any other normal day. Aqua woke up, did her morning regimen, and set off for the great hall to begin her studies. She and Terra, her friend/rival, were to train under the watchful eye of their master Eraqus in the hopes of coming one step closer to fulfilling their lifelong dream. They would one day surpass the rank of apprentice and become Keyblade Masters in their own right, something she wished would arrive sooner rather than later.

Then came time for their daily duel. They would often spar with each other as a way of proving their capabilities in battle, seeing what areas they could use improvement in, and showing off the techniques they had learned from past fights. This seemed to be no different from their previous clashes.

She was on the defense, blocking and deflecting each blow Terra threw her way with relative ease. He managed to find an opening she didn’t account for and all but jumped on the opportunity. He charged in, his Keyblade held high, and she only had a split second to raise hers in an attempt to guard against it. Yet, whether it was due to a miscalculation on his part or her just reacting too slow, he ended up hitting her unarmored wrist. She quickly backed away, letting out a cry of pain as both Keyblades were dismissed in a flash of light. Eraqus rushed over to check if she was okay.

Terra was beside her with remorseful apologies spilling out of his mouth but she barely paid them any heed. Her eyes were focused on something much more alarming, something she knew Eraqus saw too. Emanating from Terra’s hand was an aura of Darkness, which vanished as soon as he noticed it. He tried to defend himself to Eraqus but the damage was already done.

Their master had an almost zealous hatred for Darkness, believing it’d bring nothing but destruction in its wake, and sought to rid the Land of Departure of any, even if some laid dormant in his apprentices’ hearts. This was a constant problem for Terra, who always seemed to harbor enough to fall back on, be it consciously or not. For it to flare up during training, that drew Eraqus’s ire.

It was hard not to feel sorry for Terra as he was being harshly scolded. It wasn’t like he was trying to use Darkness, at least not intentionally. She knew that it was only an accident but it wouldn’t help stop the shame he undoubtedly felt. He’ll probably curse himself for being too weak and letting Darkness in yet again once he thought no one was around, an occurrence she’s been privy to more than she had any right to be. She needed to talk with him once she had her wrist taken care of.

With a hand on her back, Eraqus began leading her out of the great hall. She looked over her shoulder to catch one last glimpse of Terra before leaving. He hung his head in shame as he clenched his fists in what she believed to be anger. It was just as she expected. She turned her head back to face forward, hoping he wouldn’t blame himself more than he already was.

They made their way over to the infirmary, where Eraqus gently took hold of her wrist to examine it. She could see now how bruised and swollen it was from the impact as she winced with every slight movement. He was able to determine she had a sprained wrist, which she regarded as a miracle. With the amount of force Terra had in his swing, she was thankful it didn’t result in a break. She was to keep it wrapped and iced for a couple days till it healed, something she had no problem with.

After it was bandaged, she was told to take it easy until then. She asked Eraqus about Terra and he said he’d have a talk with him once enough time had passed for things to settle down. There was an undercurrent of regret in his voice, made even clearer by the expression on his face. Their master may be strict but he still cared for them, similar in the way a father would for his children. This gave her some hope in that he realized what happened was an accident and he’d forgive Terra. Time would only tell.

She spent the rest of the day in the library. She figured she’d get some studying done if she couldn’t practice with her Keyblade for the next few days. Try as she might, though, she could barely focus on the words she was reading and that was if she didn’t reread the sentence to understand it. Her mind kept wandering to Terra, whether he was okay or not, and what he was doing right now. Worry gnawed at her heart until she couldn’t take it anymore. The sun was beginning to cast orange and violet hues across the sky when she decided and rushed out to find him.

He wasn’t in the great hall or his room when she looked in. Searching all around the building yielded no results, either. She wondered where he could be, her anxiety growing as she saw night quickly approaching. He had to still be in the Land of Departure and the only place she hadn’t checked yet was the mountain. She ran out to the Forecourt and then beyond its boundary.

Stars were twinkling into existence by the time she reached the winding path leading up to the mountain. If it weren’t for the lights set alongside the dirt road, she would’ve been stumbling about blindly in the dark. It was when she arrived at the overlook just before the summit she found him.

His back faced her as she saw that he was sitting on the edge of the cliff. Taking a few steps closer revealed him to be looking down below the mountain with an indiscernible expression. It was troubling to see him like this. What happened earlier today had to be weighing heavily on his mind.

Tentatively walking forward, she called out, “Terra?”

He stiffened and quickly turned around to face her, asking a barrage of questions like, “Aqua, are you okay? How’s your wrist? Is it bad? It’s bad, isn’t it?”

“No, no, it’s all right, see?” she replied, showing him her bandaged wrist. “Master said it was only a sprain and that it should be okay in a couple days as long as I took it easy.”

He let out a sigh of relief, no doubt feeling some of the guilt be lifted off his shoulders. “That’s good. I don’t think I would’ve forgiven myself if I managed to break your wrist.”

“Well, you didn’t, so don’t beat yourself up over it, okay?”

Silence fell between them. She noticed him staring at her wrist with clouded eyes, despite her assurances of being fine. Before she could think of a way to broach the issue at hand, he spoke up.

“Aqua, I’m…I’m sorry about what happened earlier. I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt you, it was an accident, and---”

“I know, I know! You don’t need to apologize, I know you would never try and hurt me,” she interjected, trying to comfort him. “I’m more worried about you and how you’re doing after Master had those…words with you.”

He averted his eyes from her. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen Eraqus scold Terra like he had before and those always left him feeling horrible with himself. She was used to being the one to get him back to normal but something told her this wouldn’t be as easy as previous times.

Turning away from her, he said, “I deserved it. Master was right, I could’ve seriously hurt you.”

“But you didn’t and that’s what matters,” she replied.

“I was wielding Darkness, Aqua!” he exclaimed, taking her aback. He ran a hand through his hair before continuing on, “I thought it was gone. I thought I had it under control but I guess I don’t. Maybe it never left.”

“Terra…” She walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be okay. You’ve gotten rid of Darkness before, you can do it again. You just have to---”

He brushed her off. “What if I don’t? What if I’ll always have Darkness inside me?”

“What are you saying?”

“Maybe I’m not meant to be a Keyblade Master. Maybe I’m just destined to fall into darkness. It’s my fate to lose my heart and become a Heartless.”

“That won’t happen, Terra. You’re strong enough to resist it and---”

“What if I’m not, Aqua? How else would you explain why I keep having Darkness come out of me? You can’t, can you?”

To her horror, he was right. There was no way she could explain why Darkness lingered inside him, even with the numerous attempts to rid himself of it. It wasn’t because he had a weak heart, that much she was certain. So what was the connection between the two? Was Terra right in that he was destined to fall into darkness, either by losing his heart or some other means?

The thought rocked her to the core. She didn’t want to believe his fate was to be lost in a hellish abyss until he was put out of his misery. He was her dear friend and he deserved so much more than being reduced to a lowly Heartless. She refused to accept it, which was why she decided to do something about it.

“You won’t fall into darkness, Terra,” she affirmed, stepping around him to meet his gaze. “I know it.”

“How? How can you be so sure?” he asked.

“Because I won’t let you.” She took hold of his hand in a gentle yet firm grip. “I promise I won’t let you fall into darkness.”

He seemed genuinely shocked by her words. She meant what she said and she planned on upholding her promise. It may be hard and it may even be treacherous at times but it’d all be worth it if he remained in the light.

“And, if you do fall, I promise to always guide you back home,” she added, giving his hand a squeeze.

“...You have that much faith in me, huh?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Why wouldn’t I?” She cupped his cheek. “You’re my friend, Terra, and I know you’re strong enough to resist its temptation. I’ll just be there to remind you every so often.”

He said nothing, instead deciding to pull her into a hug. She was surprised by this, seeing as how he wasn’t a very affectionate person, at least in the physical aspect. She was about ready to question him on why he was doing this when she heard him whisper in her ear:

“Thank you, Aqua, for believing in me.”

Her heart fluttered in her chest from the sincerity in his voice. She could sometimes be slow on the uptake but this had to be a new record. It was only now she realized just how much her vow must’ve touched him and how badly he must’ve been feeling before she showed up. She was glad to have cheered him up some. Thus, she returned the hug and answered,

“You’re welcome.”

Terra wasn’t going to fall into darkness, not if she had anything to say about it. He won’t be led astray. She’d be his anchor to the realm of light. A promise is a promise, which she wholly planned to keep.

Aqua breathed in deep and touched the tip of her paintbrush on the small piece of glass sitting in front of her. Drawing it upwards left the top half in a pretty shade of cyan blue. She continued to paint with delicate and meticulous strokes until she was satisfied with her work. The bottom half was then covered in a dark blue, which almost matched the ocean she imagined in her mind. Once the piece of glass was completely painted over, she gingerly picked it up and set it aside to dry. One down, four more to go before she moved on to the next phase.

She was in the process of making her Wayfinder. She already crafted two others that happened to be sitting off to the side, one in amber and one in green. She hoped to give them to Terra and Ven soon once she was done creating hers. Seeing as how she and Terra were meant to have their Mark of Mastery exam in the near future, they were meant to be good luck charms and Ven was getting one simply because it’d be unfair if he was left out. They also had another purpose to them, something she thought was rather poignant and was the main reason she wanted them.

Wayfinders were said to be designed after star-shaped fruit called Paopu, which were also said to tie friends together. If they carried these on them, nothing would drive them apart. They’d even help find one’s way back to them if they were ever lost. It may be silly of her to believe in this but it struck a chord within her when she first heard it and, in some ways, she wanted it to be true.

The question of what would happen after she and Terra aced their exam had weighed heavily on her mind for some time. Eraqus had told them they could either travel beyond the Land of Departure and expand their horizons or succeed him and protect their world from Darkness. They hadn’t decided yet but she wondered what the aftermath of her choice would be. Would she choose to leave or stay? Whatever it may be, it meant Terra would have to contend with the other. Maybe the reason this was troubling her so much was because a part of her deep down was afraid of losing the two people she considered to be her best friends.

She knew she had nothing to be scared of yet she worried all the same. It wasn’t like the bonds she shared with Ven and Terra were so weak, they’d break upon setting foot outside their home. Their strength would remain steadfast, even if the three of them were far apart from each other. She just needed to remind herself of that whenever she was lost in her thoughts.

The last glass piece was painted and she put it beside the others to dry. With that out of the way, the next thing to do would be setting the five glass pieces into place and soldering them to the frame so they wouldn’t fall out when she held the Wayfinder facing up. It was too late to do it tonight but she would get straight to it after her training tomorrow.

She glanced over to where the other two Wayfinders were sitting. She stood up from her desk, reached her hand out to grab them, and sat back down. They shone brilliantly under the golden light pouring in from her window. A lot’s happened over the last few years.

She never thought Eraqus would take in another apprentice but it was at the behest of an old friend so that’s how Ventus came into the picture. Fragile was the best word to describe him when they first met, like he could collapse at any moment. It fit him even more when he actually did from Terra’s bombardment of questions, falling into an almost come-like state for several days. Her skepticism as to whether he was capable of becoming a Keyblade Master only grew when Eraqus said he was amnesiac and that was why he fainted. How could someone like him become Master when he was so weak, for lack of a better term?

Yet he managed to prove her wrong. The more time he spent with the two of them, the stronger he got, to the point he was able to keep up with them in battle. He wasn’t as powerful as Terra or as magically gifted as her but he made up for it with swiftness and sheer tenacity. The only reason he wasn’t taking the Mark of Mastery exam along with them was because of his age, though she believed it was also due to him needing to outgrow some things, like his rebellious streak for example. He’d be a great Keyblade Master one day, she was sure of it.

Terra’s changed so much over the years. He was no longer a child struggling to keep his head above water as he flailed his Keyblade about. He’s grown into a strong and capable man she was proud to call her friend and rival. He’d be her fellow Master in due time as well and then they’d stand together to protect both theirs and many other worlds from Heartless someday. At least, that’s what she envisioned before things somehow became different between them.

She couldn’t quite explain what changed between her and Terra. It wasn’t like the way they interacted with each other was different from normal. They still met up every day to talk and train so that couldn’t be it. The only thing she noticed was…well, things she had never really noticed from him before. Not that they were never there but they were only starting to make themselves known to her.

Before Ven, she’d only seen three sides to Terra. The dutiful pupil to their master, the reliable confidant to her, and the introspective self-doubter when he thought he was alone. It was only after Ven entered their circle she saw the kind and protective side of him, almost like he was an older brother to him. She always knew those qualities existed within him but it was different seeing them in action to someone other than her. It’s only now she’s really acknowledged them.

He was still her friend but there was a deeper meaning now. Her feelings towards him were different than her feelings towards Ven and maybe that was because she’s known him practically all her life as opposed to the four years for Ven. Maybe all this was was her growing up and becoming an adult, which meant changing feelings and realizing that things were going to be different for her now, whether she liked it or not. Throw in the anxiety of potentially drifting away from him and she was left with a jumbled up mess of complications she struggled to put a label on.

All this was doing was giving her a headache. She should be focusing on the road ahead instead of thinking herself into a corner and letting her mind run wild. She’s so close to accomplishing her dream and she couldn’t risk anything jeopardizing it. Whatever answers she wanted, she’d find them after becoming Master.

She looked down at the Wayfinders still held in her hands and pressed them close to her chest. She let out a heavy sigh as she tried to calm herself. Different was new but it didn’t have to be bad. Change was a part of everyone’s lives and she and Terra were no exceptions.

Things may be different between them but it didn’t mean they were bad. It could mean they were good and she just couldn’t see how yet. As long as they were together, nothing truly bad would happen. That’s what she hoped.

Aqua sat at the end of the dock, watching the sun set over the horizon. A warm, pleasant breeze was blowing through, carrying with it the strong scent of salt. She could hear the ocean’s waves rolling along the sandy shore and leaves from the trees behind her rustling. This was everything she imagined a beach to be like. The only things missing from it were Terra and Ven.

The Destiny Islands was what this world was called. She only stopped by with the intention of taking a short rest but it was after reality began to sink in she had to give herself something more than that. She needed a moment where she could think clearly, decompress, and just breathe. She needed this before going back out there and starting the whole process over again. That’s where she was now.

Where did it all go wrong? She finally managed to achieve her dream of becoming a Keyblade Master but it felt like a hollow victory when it turned out Terra failed the exam on account of his Darkness flaring up again. Then she was asked by their master to keep an eye on him in case he strayed too close to darkness, which she didn’t agree with but knew it was out of concern for him so she followed. It was through that she learned of the questionable acts seemingly committed by Terra and it caused her to doubt him and his resolve. When she met up with him and Ven at Radiant Garden and she revealed the truth of her being there, their trust in her was shattered.

Then she found out Ven was being hunted down by a masked boy, who had ties to Master Xehanort. He’d been pulling strings behind the scenes and he was dragging Terra along for the ride. An encounter with the masked boy in Neverland left her exhausted yet she still trudged on before arriving here. All she was trying to do was make things right so why did it turn out like this?

Maybe she wasn’t cut out to be a Master. They were supposed to keep the balance between light and dark, protect the worlds from malevolent forces. If she couldn’t even protect her best friends, the two people she treasured above all else, then what good was she? Eraqus was wrong in making her a Master, much less his successor. She never should have become one.

She took out her Wayfinder and just held it. The orange hue of the sunset washed away the once vibrant blue into something dull and dark. Her heart grew heavier the longer she looked at it, running her thumb over the token in the center. Nothing would drive them apart, huh?

It was never that she thought of Ven as weak or doubted his capabilities. It was never, ever that. She just wanted him to be safe, to be unharmed because she knew she couldn’t always be there to save him. There was a part of her that still viewed him as the fragile boy she first met who fell comatose from one too many questions. Sure, he’s grown much stronger since then, but she felt the need to protect him regardless. He was her dear friend and she wouldn’t know how to live with herself if he got hurt and she wasn’t there to help him. She’d rather have him hate her for being overbearing than risk losing him because she wasn’t cautious.

She wished she could express how sorry she was to Terra. She vouched for him to Eraqus, swearing he was strong enough to resist the dark temptations, yet hearsay was all it took for her to lose faith in him. Xehanort’s machinations framed him as someone he wasn’t and she fell for it so easily. It honestly pissed her off that he was manipulating and taking advantage of Terra and his trusting nature. While he wasn’t exactly innocent in this, it was clear as to who the real mastermind was. She wanted so badly to apologize to him, to tell him she should never have doubted him.

Her grip on the Wayfinder tightened as she felt her eyes beginning to burn. Did they have theirs still, she wondered. She wanted to believe they did but was it childishly naive of her to cling to that narrow hope?

She was a horrible friend to them. She caused one to lose faith in her and she may as well have betrayed the other. She may have pushed Ven too far away for him to come back and drove Terra further into the darkness. She wouldn’t fault them for wanting nothing to do with her anymore. She wouldn’t, either, if the roles were reversed. Were their bonds now severed?

No, they couldn’t be. The magic she placed on each of their Wayfinders was still active and she could still feel Terra and Ven’s hearts through hers. That had to be her silver lining in this. Even if the cord connecting the three of them together frayed till it was only a thread, that thread was unbreakable.

She needed to protect them. She couldn’t let Xehanort and that masked boy do whatever they wanted with them. They wouldn’t hesitate to save her if she were in the same position so she shouldn’t, either. They were precious to her, she’d do anything, even give her life, if it meant they’d be safe.

She stood up from the dock, Wayfinder still in her hand, and looked up at the now starry sky. She didn’t know where they were but she didn’t need to. Her heart was going to be her guiding key.

They needn’t worry much longer. She was going to find them and the three of them were going to stop whatever Xehanort had planned. Then they would share one more night under the stars, like they had all that time ago.

May they find a way to each other once more.

Aqua watched on in horror as the man in front of her stabbed his Keyblade into his chest. She wanted to cry out his name but she couldn’t find the strength within her to do so, having thoroughly exhausted herself from their fight earlier. His body went slack, his Keyblade vanishing into thin air, as a portal of swirling darkness opened beneath him. He fell back and, quickly realizing where it led to, she dove in after him.

She had to save him. It may not have been Terra, not completely, but his heart was still in his body, she just knew it. Why else would he have let her go when he was so close to finishing her off? She couldn’t leave him to wander in the Realm of Darkness for all eternity. Even if it meant bringing Xehanort back, she’d never forgive herself for doing that to him if he was still in there. She made him a promise and she was damn well going to keep it.

The first thing she noticed was how cold it was. It wasn’t freezing but it was still too chilly for her liking, evident from her shivering. She felt like she was stuck in an empty black void as she searched around for any sign of Terra. She was eventually able to find a dim light just a few meters below her, a light she recognized as his. Summoning her Keyblade, she changed its form to that of her Glider and raced towards the light, not once taking her eyes off it.

It didn’t take long to reach him. The light grew dimmer and dimmer the closer she got before dimming completely upon seeing him. He looked to be just sleeping, even when he was plummeting straight down to what she considered to be hell. She grabbed onto his arm and struggled to lift him onto her Glider, only managing to accomplish that feat by sheer force of will. Giving him a quick once-over revealed no visible wounds and he seemed to be breathing normally. Relieved that he was physically all right, she turned the Glider around and began heading back up.

She had him and he was going to be okay. They would be back in Radiant Garden soon and she was going to fix him. She and whoever else could help her were going to find a way to get Xehanort’s heart out of him. Then she and him would go home and wake Ven up, like she said they would. They’d be together again. Their master may be gone now but they’d have each other to lean on and support. The hope of them being reunited again was the only thing keeping her going at this point. After everything that’s happened, she needed this to come true. She almost wanted to pray to whatever power there be to grant her wish, to give her this.

Well, a deity or some other higher being there was heard her and sneered. Her heart dropped once she saw the portal they came in from starting to close. They were still so far away and it was shrinking with each passing second. It would be gone by the time they reached it, leaving them stuck in the Realm of Darkness with no way out. She looked over at Terra’s unconscious form and, knowing what had to be done, made her choice without any hesitation.

That was when it hit her. She finally found her answer and she wanted to scold herself for taking so long to realize it. She finally knew what Terra was to her and it was so easy, so simple to understand that there was really no excuse. He wasn’t just a friend to her, he was more than that, he deepened beyond that. It was only natural, in some ways, for her to have fallen for him.

She loved him. She loved everything about him, from his ability to want to see the good in people to his devotion to her and Ven. She can scarcely remember a life where he wasn’t a part of it nor did she want such a life. He was irreplaceable, someone she confided in, a man she could talk to about anything without fear of judgment. He was her rock, her dearly beloved. She loved him, which was why she was able to decide on her fate with little regret.

She was going to take his place. Her promise came out of a love different from what it was now but she planned to uphold it all the same. Her love for Terra was stronger than her hatred of the man possessing him and she couldn’t bear to leave him behind to die in a hellish wasteland. It only hurt to know she wouldn’t be there to help guide him back home, to her and Ven.

She disembarked from her Glider and went around to the side. Terra appeared to be holding onto the handles somewhat, which seemed to be the only reason he was staying on it instead of falling. She brushed the back of her hand against his cheek before resting it on his, giving it a gentle squeeze. She was going to miss him when she was gone but this was for the best.

“We’ll meet again someday.” She squeezed his hand again. “Even if so much time has passed, we’ll meet again.” She was giving both him and herself false hope. “I’ll always be with you, okay?” She didn’t believe she would find a way out. “Goodbye, Terra.”

Then she let go and began falling. She didn’t take her eyes off him once as she fell, even when it became too dark for her to see him clearly. She wanted him to be the last thing she saw if she were to possibly die in the next few moments. She only wished she could’ve amended things between her, Terra, and Ven before their grand battle in the Keyblade Graveyard but she was resigned to contend with this. She’d be okay with taking that regret to her grave.

Tears rolled down her cheeks but she smiled through them. She saved him from a fate of wandering the dark realm alone. She hoped Terra would win out in his fight against Xehanort and reclaim his body as the image of him finally disappeared from her sight. Maybe, just maybe, they’d meet again in the next life.

She closed her eyes as she let the darkness overtake her. It was then she heard herself say those three little words that carried with them so much meaning. Whether she said them aloud or she only imagined she did, it didn’t matter. All she wanted was for those words to reach Terra’s heart, to let him know why she did what she did. That was her last thought before succumbing to the cold.

“I love you.”

#airi's writing #terraqua #aqua #terra #ventus #eraqus #fanfiction #kingdom hearts #canon divergence

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snowdice · 3 years

Text

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 60]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27

Okay. Not sure how long I’ll go today, but let’s work on this for a bit. Just gotta finish this side quest and then we can get back to the plot. ;)

Chapter 28

Thomas did not have to be told that something had gotten Helen Heart in a tizzy. He could tell just by the amount of food she had sent up on his dinner tray. She always made and pushed more food when she was stressed, and he couldn’t help but chuckle when he found both a hearty serving of roast beef and a mini chicken pot pie on his plate along with three vegetable side dishes and a side of macaroni and cheese.

He could also guess what had happened to illicit such a response. Thomas had caught up to Jeffers Deknis in his garden and they’d spoken at length about Logan and Patton’s new friend.

There was no way that after said discussion, Jeff had not mentioned Virgil (and more importantly his friendship with Patton) to Helen during their daily gossip sessions. There was also no way that Helen had heard the words “child” and “too small” in a sentence and hadn’t flipped. From there the inevitable sequence of events was clear: Patton went home, Helen talked his ear off until he agreed to bring Virgil to meet her, Helen met him and immediately committed herself to making sure he ate three square meals a day as well as multiple snacks.

Thomas had sussed all of that out before the kitchen worker bringing him his dinner had mentioned what had happened that day.

That in mind, he decided to wait until after dinner should have been cleaned up before walking his own dinner leftovers down to the kitchens.

Thomas was unsurprised to see Jeff already in the kitchen. He was sat at a small table off to the side where kitchen workers usually took their breaks. The only person other than Jeff and Helen left in the kitchen was a dishwasher who was finishing up. Helen usually spent a couple of hours after dinner in her kitchen or her office organizing for the next day and in case anyone needed food on an off hour, and then there was a night cook who would take over so she could go back to her set of rooms.

Helen took the tray of leftovers from Thomas herself and shooed the dishwasher out of the way. “I’ll handle the rest myself,” she told the girl. “You can leave.”

She nodded and started to take her apron off. Helen dumped the tray on the counter without care and turned back around to usher Thomas into one of the kitchen chairs. Thomas went willingly and she turned to fill the tea kettle with water and set it on the stove.

“It take it she met Virgil,” Thomas said to Jeff.

“She’s adopted Virgil,” Jeff replied, taking a bite out of a cookie.

“And what of it?” she asked. “Someone obviously needs to feed the boy. Speaking of, you’re grounding your son by the way.”

Thomas took one of the cookies for himself. “Why am I grounding Logan?” he asked.

“He was worried enough about his health to make him a nutrition potion, but still did not bring him to me,” she harrumphed.

“I see,” Thomas replied.

“In Logan’s defense,” Jeff interrupted. “the boy seems rather timid. He may have worried about you scaring him off.”

Helen slapped him with a dishtowel.

“Actually,” Jeff continued. “From what I’ve gathered he didn’t have contact with anyone since the time I saw him a couple of weeks ago until now.”

“Any adults,” Thomas corrected with a frown. “I’m pretty sure he, Patton, and Logan must have been around each other considering how close they already seem to be.” He paused, “Logan implied he wasn’t particularly… comfortable around adults.”

“I did get that impression, yes,” Helen said, pouring the hot water from the kettle into a tea pot and carrying it and some cups over to the table.

“He was incredibly jumpy,” Jeff confirmed. “I imagine he does not have good experiences with many people, but he seems to have grown attached to Logan and Patton. He defers to them in most things and seemed a bit protective.

“Where did he come from?” Thomas asked.

“I’m not sure,” Jeff said. “I found him hiding in the garden shed a couple of weeks ago.”

“Did he sneak in?” Thomas asked.

“That’s what I would have thought,” Jeff replied, “but when I asked, he said he wasn’t trying to steal anything and that he was supposed to be in the castle. So, I’d assumed that meant he was the child of someone living in the caste.”

“But neither of us could find anyone who knew him,” Helen said. “Of course, we didn’t even know his name until now.” She seemed to decide the tea leaves had sat long enough because she started to pour them each a cup of tea.

Thomas took a sip. “Earl Grey,” he commented. “I guess I’m not sleeping much tonight.” It was her ‘planning tea.’

“We need a plan,” she said, “but we’re going to have to be gentle.”

“At least with Virgil,” Jeff said.

Thomas laughed lightly, “and what do you plan to do with the other two?”

“I have my ways.”

Helen rolled her eyes. “You say that,” she said, “but you’re too soft. The two of them learned to run circles around you and your powers years ago.”

“We should talk to them though,” Thomas said. “Separately from Virgil.”

“We should,” Helen agreed. “I already spoke to Patton a bit yesterday, but I will again. We should see if we can ask around and find out why he’s in the castle. We don’t even know how long he’s lived here. Or who brought him here.” The look on her face told Thomas she wanted to have a talk with his guardians whoever and wherever they were.

Helen took a drink of tea, it seemed to calm herself. “We need to make sure whatever has been happening to him is not happening in these walls,” she said.

Thomas had honestly… not thought about that. He’d assumed whatever made Virgil so skittish was in the past, but it was possible that it was ongoing. The thought made him sick.

“Perhaps you should try to talk to him, Thomas,” Helen suggested.

Thomas winced. “I am not sure that is a good idea...”

“Why not?”

“We don’t have the best track record… I don’t think me being around him would be a good idea.”

“Oh, please, Thomas,” Helen said disbelievingly.

“No, you don’t understand,” Thomas said. “He seems disproportionately afraid of me. I think it’s a mix of me being king and how we met.”

“How did you meet?” Helen asked.

“I… gave him a bit of a fright,” Thomas admitted. “Logan and Patton weren’t in the room and I didn’t know who he was. He… ended up under the bed. Then… the second time I saw him he accidently ran into me. He freaked out again.” The memory still made Thomas feel gross. It also made him think there was a lot more to his backstory than the three of them understood.

43410

“Perhaps Jeff can try to talk to him then,” Helen said. “It sounds like he was calmest around you. I’ll push Patton towards taking him to the garden more often. I bet fresh air would do him some good anyway.”

Jeff nodded. “I will try to talk to him a bit more.”

“Great,” Helen said, but Thomas already knew the conversation wasn’t over. “Now we need to talk about strategic events to throw over the next few months that Patton and Logan to invite Virgil to. We’ll start slow, but we need to make sure he feels welcome in the castle.”

Thomas met Jeff’s eyes. Yeah, it was going to be a long night.

Chapter 29

Virgil finished eating the breakfast Patton’s mom had sent for him. It had been going on a week since she’d made the menu for him. She sent up little cards with each meal and he was supposed to rate each thing she sent on a scale from 1-5. Logan would read it to him before he ate, and Virgil mark the little box on the card. Usually, he would put a 4 for everything (he had tried to do 5, but Logan had told him 5 was reserved for things like chicken alfredo). Three was for things that he was neutral on, 2 was for things he didn’t like but could tolerate, and 1 was for things he didn’t like. So far, the only 3 was the unseasoned porridge she’d sent one day.

“Finished?” Logan asked.

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

“What would you like to do today?” Logan asked. “Patton is busy until after lunch, and then we thought you might like to go back to the garden again. It’s supposed to drop in temperature over the next few days, so it will be the last good day for it.”

“Sounds good,” Virgil said. “I don’t care what we do today though.”

“Well, there are a few options,” Logan said.

“What do you want to do?” Virgil asked.

Logan made an expression, and Virgil titled his head. “I’m don’t have anything in particular I want to do,” he said.

“You’re lying,” Virgil said immediately.

“You would not be interested in the activity I wish to partake in,” Logan said.

Virgil squinted at him. “I’d be interested in laying on the ground and staring at the ceiling.”

Logan chuckled. “No, truly. The activity I would do if you were not present would involve reading.”

“You can read to me,” Virgil suggested.

“…In Sanskrit.”

Virgil frowned at him. “Isn’t that, like, some sort of dead language?”

“It is,” Logan said. “I taught myself to read it to read a specific book called the Pragilium Text. It’s an encoded book that leads to a magical location that I have been trying to decode for years.”

“That’s fine,” Virgil said. “You can do that.”

“It would be in the library,” Logan said.

“Okay.”

“But…” Logan said. “It would in no way be interesting to you.”

Virgil shrugged. “Like I said. I’m content to lie on the floor for a few hours.”

Logan frowned. “I can’t make you do that.”

“You wouldn’t be making me,” Virgil said. “I want to go. Maybe you can find me an easy book I could try to read?”

“Are you certain?” he asked.

Virgil nodded, decisively.

“Very well, get dressed and I will show you the library.”

Virgil stood to do so and a few minutes later, Logan was leading him out of the royal wing.

Both of the guards greeted him kindly, and Virgil hunched his shoulders in a bit, but said a soft “hi.”

The library didn’t end up being too far away. It was through the small dining hall and to the left where the staircase to the kitchen was to the right.

“This is not the main library,” Logan said. “It is just a smaller one. The royal librarian comes here only about once a week to organize. Some other castle residents might come in too, but it is usually mostly empty.” Virgil could tell just by listening for a few seconds that the place was likely empty (unless someone was lying in wait).

“I’ll look and see if there is something simple for you in case you’d like to read. You can explore a bit if you’d like,” Logan said.

Virgil nodded and stalked off into the shelves to secure the area. There were many books, not that he could quite read any of the spines. The bookcases were mostly cramped into the space. There was the open area where they’d come in with a few comfy chairs and Virgil found a desk near one of the windows. It had stacks of books including one pretty large and old one. He looked at it curiously.

Virgil heard Logan’s footsteps approach from down an aisle. “That’s the Pragilium text,” he said.

“It’s pretty,” Virgil said, looking at the design etched into the cover.

“Yes,” Logan agreed. He reached forward to touch it and opened it carefully. The print was small and didn’t look like the letters Logan had taught him so far. There was a small map on the side that Virgil could at least guess at the meaning of.

“You can read that?” Virgil asked.

“I can,” Logan said. “Very few people can though.”

“Wow, you’re really smart.”

“Thank you,” Logan said with a smile.

“Now,” Logan continued. “I found you a book. I apologize as its subject matter is for younger children, but it has many pictures that can help give you context when you don’t know something. You don’t have to read it if you do not wish to, especially as we haven’t gotten very far in our lessons, but I thought you might like the challenge.

He handed him the book and Virgil took it with a smile. “I’ll try to read it,” he said.

“Well, you have free reign of the library. Feel free to continue to explore and to interrupt me if you need to.”

Virgil nodded and took the book before deciding to finish his sweep of the library. It turned out that appearances were not deceiving, and the library truly was empty. Once he was certain about that, he looked around for a comfortable place to settle down and try to read the book Logan had handed him. He found a sturdy looking bookshelf near where Logan was reading at his desk. He scaled it quickly. It was a little bit dusty at the top, but it wasn’t a bad place. It was close to the ceiling and kept him hidden pretty well, but still gave him enough room to pop up onto his elbows. If he looked left, he could see Logan down bellow with his head in the book, but if he looked right, he could see the entrance to the library.

He pulled the book in front of him and looked at the cover. It was covered in drawings of different colored flowers. One simple white flower was in the center and there were three words on the cover. He squinted at it and silently tried to sound it out based on what Logan had taught him so far. He could guess that the larger word was ‘flowers’ based on context. So, he was pretty sure it read How Flowers Grow.

He flipped open the book. Logan was right, there were many hand drawn beautiful pictures. He could pretty much understand what was happening just from them even if he couldn’t read all of the words.

It was an interesting book even if he couldn’t read it and it was obviously made for small children. Judging by the pictures it seemed to be detailing how plants, or at least, flowers grew through some kid planting and caring for a flower over the course of some amount of time.

Virgil had, of course, known flowers grew from seeds, but it was interesting to see things about how the stem would pop out of the seed in the ground and things about the roots growing.

He more looked through the pictures than read it the first time but had flipped back to the front to try to read the words when he heard the library door open.

Virgil perked up in awareness, but then settled when he recognized Patton’s footsteps. Virgil tilted his head to watch as he walk directly to Logan’s hideaway.

“Hi,” he said, gaining Logan’s attention.

“Hello, Patton,” Logan replied. He glanced at the window and must have seen that time had passed because he closed his book and shuffled his papers.

“The guards said you came here,” Patton said, glancing around. “Where’s Virgil?”

Instead of letting Logan answer that question, Virgil pulled himself forward, with the book in one hand and slid off the bookshelf to land lightly on his feet next to Patton.

Patton screamed before slapping a hand over his mouth.

Logan had placed his hand over his heart. “Where on Earth did you come from?” he asked.

Virgil blinked at him and then pointed to the bookshelf he’d been on top of.

“How long were you up there?” Logan asked.

“Pretty much the whole time,” Virgil answered.

“I…” Logan said. “I didn’t even know.”

Virgil squinted at him. “You need to learn to look up.”

Patton giggled.

Virgil turned on him. “You need to learn to case the area.”

“Oh honey, your shirt is all covered in dust,” Patton said instead of responding to his very valid criticism. Virgil frowned. “Let’s get you changed and then go grab some lunch.”

“Lunch?” Virgil asked.

Patton chuckled and grabbed his hand. “Yes, sweetie, lunch. Then garden.”

“Fine,” Virgil said. “But you do need to learn to be more observant.

“Yes, yes, whatever you say,” Patton said.

Logan just rolled his eyes.

Chapter 30

After lunch, Patton and Logan took Virgil out into the garden to walk around. They let Virgil lead them around wherever he wanted to in the garden. A bunch more flowers had died since the last time they’d been out here, and Patton felt sad despite having never felt very sad about that sort of thing before. But, Virgil seemed to really like the flower he’d found last time, so Patton thought he was probably sad on the boy’s behalf.

Of course, Patton thought, perking up, eventually it would be spring, and Virgil could get to not only see flowers but see all of the flowers grow. Patton couldn’t wait to see him amongst the garden then.

Virgil took them wandering through the orchard for a while, but most of the trees had been stripped of their fruits. They ended up in the food garden after a bit, and Virgil finally seemed to decide on the direction instead of just ambling about.

A few seconds after Patton noticed Virgil seemingly decide on a destination, Patton noticed Mr. Deknis kneeling on the ground a few feet away. Had… had Virgil been looking for him? Patton wondered. That was adorable.

Mr. Deknis looked up as they approached and smiled at them.

“Hello, Mr. Deknis,” Patton said as they came closer.

“Hello you three,” Mr. Deknis said. “Getting into trouble?”

“No,” Virgil said, shaking his head.

Mr. Deknis gave him a flash of a smile. “I know, I’m joking,” he said. “Especially since there isn’t much left in my gardens for certain princes to destroy with experiments.”

“Oh, okay,” Virgil said. He tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting the last of the acorn squash out,” Mr. Deknis replied. “It’s the last crop to get finished. Good thing too, it’s supposed to start snowing soon.”

Virgil looked down curiously at the dark green squash.

“Would you like to help me pick a couple?” Mr. Deknis asked.

“Sure,” Virgil said, sounding interested. Mr. Deknis patted the ground beside him and Virgil knelt down to watch him.

“They’re not too difficult to harvest,” he said. “You just cut the fruit off the stem. You want to leave about a hand’s width of the stem left over which will help preserve moisture. The earlier harvests, I left in the field to cure in the sun for a couple weeks, but the frost’ll ruin them so we’ll take them inside the green house and let them sit in the sun for a bit there. We also want to keep the leaves. You’ll probably be eating those for dinner tonight since they have to be cooked up within about 24 hours after they’re picked. Patton’s mom makes a good side dish with them and she’ll be making some curry tomorrow, probably. Maybe some stew if there are some leftover.”

“Put the squash in this wheelbarrow and the leaves into this pile, okay?” Virgil nodded and Mr. Deknis handed him the extra pair of gloves and shears he carried with him in case one set broke. “These might be a bit big on your, but they should work for now.”

Mr. Deknis looked up at Patton and Logan. “Would the two of you like to help?” he asked. “I can get some more equipment.”

“I can help out if you want, but you don’t need to stop and get more equipment just for me,” Patton said.

“The same for me,” Logan said.

“Well, if you’d like to help still, you can sort the leave. Give your mother a head start.”

“Sure,” Patton said. He and Logan went to do that while Mr. Deknis and Virgil worked on cutting the squashes from the vine.

“What do you do during the winter?” Virgil asked curiously. “If this is your last crop.”

“Well, at the beginning, I mostly will be working on making sure things are stored correctly along with some of the kitchen staff. There’s some drying to do and some canning. After that’s done, I’ll spend some time organizing and planning. Then, before the spring comes, I’ll start preparing seedlings in the green house.”

“Seedlings?” he asked.

“I let seeds start to grow in the greenhouse that I replant once it gets warm enough.”

“Why don’t you just plant them where they’re going?”

“I do for some,” he said, “but giving some a head start is good for them.”

Patton watched as Virgil continued to ask questions about gardening while working on harvesting the squash. Mr. Deknis continued to answer them in a calm, soft tone that Patton didn’t think he’d ever heard from the often gruff man before.

Patton wasn’t surprised when, after finishing getting most of the squash off of the vine, Mr. Deknis asked if Virgil wanted to help him with canning some pears in a couple of days. Virgil immediately looked over at Logan and Patton as though asking permission.

“Say yes if you want to Virgil,” Logan said.

“Yes,” Virgil said as soon as he was given permission. Mr. Deknis smiled at him softly and started loading the last of the squash into the wheelbarrow. Patton offered to run the squash leaves to the kitchen while Logan and Virgil helped Mr. Deknis take the actual squash to the green house.

He dropped the leaves off to a kitchen worker since Mama was busy and headed back out to the garden. By the time he returned, Logan was already back from the green house and sitting by one of the more decorative trees near the castle.

“He’s exploring,” Logan said, nodding at the large patch of bushes.

Patton chuckled. “I see.” He sat next to Logan. Every so often he’d hear the bushes rustle, but he couldn’t tell if it was actually Virgil or an animal.

“He’s adorable,” Patton commented, keeping an ear out.

Logan hummed.

“I’m glad we kept him.”

“He isn’t a pet, Patton.”

Patton rolled his eyes. “I know, but I’m still glad. I’m glad he’s making friends with Mr. Deknis. Once he knows how to read better, we should get him a book about gardening. He seems interested.”

Logan nodded. “Having a hobby would be good for him. Clearly he has a fascination with the garden.” He nodded to the blur of dark hair that could be seen through the bushes. It seemed Virgil had stopped his exploration and was now laying down in the bushes a few feet away.

“I’m going to go see what he’s doing,” Patton said. “I’ll be right back.”

Logan nodded and Patton got to his feet. The bushes were part of a small maze that was filled with flowers during the spring and summer months but were mostly just green and brown bushes for now. Despite the fact that Patton had been able to see him only a few feet away, it took him a while to wind through the path to where he was. When he finally turned the last corner and he came into view, Patton gasped softly.

“Ghost kitty!” he said, making sure to make his voice as quiet as possible.

Despite how soft he made his voice, two pairs of eyes shot over to him. The completely black kitten was perched on Virgil’s lap like she belonged there. Ghost Kitty hissed slightly, but Virgil reached forward to pet her head gently.

“This is Ghost Kitty?” Virgil asked. “I thought you said she was hard to pet.”

“She is,” Patton said. He lowered himself onto the ground from a few feet away from them. “How did you get her to come to you?”

Virgil glanced down at the cat and shrugged, scratching one of her ears. “She just came over to me and let me pet her.”

“Wow,” Patton said softly. He looked at the cat. “Could I pet you sweetie?” he asked, holding out a hand in her direction. She hissed again.

Virgil frowned down at her. “It’s Patton,” he said as though he expected to understand his words and the exasperation in the tone he said them in.

He pet the cat’s head to soothe her and then reached over to grab Patton’s hand. He pulled and Patton carefully leaned a bit closer until his hand was within sniffing distance. Ghost Kitty sniffed his fingers contemplatively and then bumped her head against it. He barely restrained a squeal, knowing that probably wouldn’t be taken well.

He carefully turned his hand over so he could stroke the top of her head. He gently scratched her ear, not daring to go for under her chin yet since she didn’t know him well. “Hi,” he said softly. After a moment, she started to purr softly. Virgil reached over and scratched under her chin and she purred louder. “Oh, you’re a good girl,” Patton breathed, letting a hand trail gently down her back once and then again. Patton settled himself carefully into a seating position continuing to pet her. After a few more moments of soft petting, she hesitantly stepped her front paws onto Patton’s thigh so she was sitting in both of their laps. Patton laughed softly. “Hi sweetie.” He glanced over at Virgil who had a wide smile on his face as he pet the cat. This. This was adorable. They continued to pet the cat for a very long time.

Chapter 31

Logan waited for a while after Patton left to check on Virgil, but the two never resurfaced. It was odd, Patton would usually remember to come back and get Logan or at least tell them where they were. With a sigh, Logan climbed to his feet to go find them. It took him a while to weave his way through the maze of bushes to them especially because they were suspiciously quiet (Well, suspicious for Patton. Virgil was often unnervingly quiet when alone.) Luckily, he knew the bushes enough after all of these years not to get lost and managed to find the two after a few minutes.

“Ah,” he said, immediately identifying the reason for Patton disappearing.

“Logan!” Patton said, his voice excited, but also quieter than normal. “We found a kitty!”

“I can see that,” Logan responded, taking a step closer. The cat hissed at him in response. The hissing was so intense and wild that he’d suspect the thing was feral if it wasn’t happily on Virgil’s lap having had it’s head in Patton’s lap before Logan had approached.

“No,” Virgil told the animal as though it could understand words. “That’s Logan. Be nice.”

The cat still glared at him and swished it’s tail back and forth threateningly. Virgil pet the top of it’s head and it broke eye contact with Logan to purr.

Patton seemed delighted by the purring, reaching to stroke under the thing’s chin carefully. “We should give her a name!” Patton said.

Virgil frowned. “I thought her name was Ghost Kitty.”

“That is ‘Ghost Kitty’?” Logan asked skeptically. From what Patton had said about that cat, it was terrified of people and no one could ever get near it, even him. Now it was in Virgil’s lap?

“But that was a temporary name,” Patton said, “for before we officially met her. Now we have to give her a real name.”

“Do not give it a name,” Logan said. “You will get attached.”

“How do you name a cat?” Virgil asked.

“Do not name it,” Logan said.

“You give them names based on their personalities, how they look, or even just because it’s a cute name,” Patton explained. “Like, remember Mittens? I named her Mittens because she has white fur and black paws!”

Virgil looked at the cat. “She’s completely black,” he said.

Patton hummed. “So, we could give her a name based on that like Midnight or Shadow.”

“Those are fine,” Virgil said.

“No, no,” Patton said. “I’m just giving you examples. You get to name her yourself.”

“This is a bad idea,” Logan said.

“Just throw out some names,” Patton said. “Anything you can think of.”

“Uh,” Virgil said. “Knife.”

“…Just Knife?” Patton asked.

“Nightmare.” Virgil seemed to think about it. “No, that’s mean.”

“How about things you like?” Patton suggested.

“Alfredo?”

Oh no, Logan thought, he was worse than Patton at cat naming.

“Good start,” Patton said. “Logan, do you have any suggestions.”

“Cat,” Logan said.

“Real suggestions,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and thought for a moment. “Aphrodite.”

“Catphrodite!”

Logan glared at him. “Helena.”

“Helenpaw.”

“Claudia.”

“Clawdia.”

“Persephone.”

Patton smiled at him, cheerfully.

“…Damnit!”

Patton turned to Virgil again. “Like that! They don’t even have to be serious. Like, uh, you could name her Madam Fluffywuffykins the Great!”

“Do not name her that,” Logan said, scrunching up his nose.

Logan sat on the ground, the cat eyeing him, but no longer hissing. Logan gently guided them towards more sensible names despite Patton trying his hardest to drag them into stupidity.

Virgil still didn’t quite get it. He mostly tried to name it after foodstuff, and often not even appropriate foodstuff such as “Corn” and “Acorn Squash” and “Sandwich” and occasionally would drop in semi violent ones such as “Razor,” “Nightshade” and “Void.” Patton suggested names like “Fluffers,” “Bobette” and “Darling” as well as some that were puns. Logan tried to direct them towards more sensible ones like “Salem” and even went so low as to suggest the contrary “Snowball.”

It quickly seemed to become less about actually naming the cat and more of a game. Patton had taught Virgil about playing with cats and had even gotten out a ball of yarn he cared around for his crafts. Both Virgil and the cat seemed to find endless entertainment with that. Logan hoped Patton had another ball of yarn that color because, he was never going to get that ball back.

The barrage of names fizzled out into naming things around them like “Leaf” and “Bush” until they stopped suggesting names altogether. Patton and Logan sat back and watched Virgil play with the cat.

Logan watched as they stopped playing suddenly and Virgil and the cat squinted at each other. “Marisol,” Virgil said, pulling the name out of nowhere. “That’s her name.” He said it with a certainty that was surprising considering how he’d treated the naming process with confusion and caution earlier. If Logan did not know better, his tone of voice would indicate that the cat, or Marisol he guessed, had gotten bored of them coming up with stupid names and decided to tell him her actual name herself.

The cat made a sound and batted at Virgil’s face without claws to grab back his attention.

He turned back to it and bopped its face with a finger in kind. It attacked his finger, but in a clearly playful matter as it still did not extend it’s claws and its teeth did not draw blood.

“That’s a great name, Virgil,” Patton said.

“Much more pleasant than any that Patton suggested all afternoon,” Logan said. He received an elbow to the side for his quip.

“A pretty name for a pretty kitty,” Patton said, scooting over to where Virgil was sat and attempting to pet Marisol’s head. Marisol, however, was too keyed up and batted at the hand.

“I love you too!” Patton said.

Logan rolled his eyes, but he had long since resigned himself to watching the two of them play with and coo over the cat for the rest of the day.

Eventually, though, it started to get darker. Even after Logan pointed this out, it still took over an hour for them to relent and leave the bush maze to go to the door. The problem was of course, that the cat had managed to grow very attached to Virgil in the last few hours and she followed them all the way to the door with manipulatively heart breaking mews.

“You’ve got to stay out here,” Virgil said, when they got to the castle door. He pet her ear softly and she shoved her head into his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anywhere to put you.” He sounded horribly sad about that fact and Logan felt himself shift uncomfortably. “I basically live in a closet and Logan doesn’t like cats in his room anyway.”

Logan immediately felt unreasonably guilty, probably more so because Logan did not think Virgil was trying to make him feel guilty. “…Bring the dammed thing inside.”

Virgil blinked up at him. “What?”

“It will get cold soon anyway,” Logan said.

He frowned at Logan from where he was crouched. “But you don’t like fur in your room…”

“I will have to find a potion that works,” he said with a sigh, “and we’ll have to say it’s mine to the guards and Father since it will be staying in my room, but it is yours in every other way. That means you are going to feed it, clean it, and clean up after it.”

Virgil nodded immediately and swooped Marisol up in his arms. The cat went without complaint. “Thank you!” he said. “I love her.”

“I know you do,” Logan said, already regretting it already. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to even consider recanting the offer considering how happy Virgil seemed to be. They had a cat now, he guessed.

Chapter 32

“What are you doing?” Helen asked a few minutes after her son walked into the kitchen and started looking around as though he were trying to find something. It was a few hours into the afternoon, and she and a few workers were already prepping for dinner.

“Uh,” Patton said. “Have you seen Virgil?”

“No,” Helen said. “Why.”

“Er… Logan and I sorta, lost him,” Patton said. He was wringing his hands anxiously. Helen put down the knife in her hand.

“What do you mean you lost him?” she asked.

“Well, see, we were trying to teach him how to play hide and seek, um, but then we didn’t think to tell him that he eventually had to come out if we didn’t find him, and now we haven’t seen him since breakfast.”

“He didn’t know what tag is?” she asked. That was just one more thing to add to the list of why Helen worried about Virgil and where he came from. Every morsel of information she’d managed to wring from Patton despite his evasions made her lists of concerns grow larger, even little things like him not knowing about simple childhood games. Actually, thinking of concerning things having to do with Virgil. “Wait, so he hasn’t eaten lunch.”

“Um, we don’t know that,” Patton’s mouth said while his eyes said ‘no.’

“He needs to be on a consistent diet, especially when he’s still taking the malnutrition potion,” she scolded.

“I know, Mama, I know,” Patton said. “I’m trying to find him. I’d kinda hoped he’d gotten hungry and snuck down here. He probably wouldn’t want to risk being caught stealing food though.”

Helen grimaced. Yet another concerning thing.

“Wait! I have an idea, I’ll be right back.” Patton turned and ran out of the room. Helen frowned at the space he’d been and finished chopping the carrot on the cutting board in front of her. If it had been any other person in the castle missing, Helen wouldn’t have worried, but she had literally never seen Virgil without Patton and/or Logan by his side. Even when he’d gone to help Jeff can some fruit, Logan had reportedly hung around to read a book.

Considering that Logan had never exactly been clingy even with Patton, she imagined that either Virgil asked, or Logan thought he should stay with him for his comfort. So, she was surprised that he was apparently hidden away somewhere in the castle where neither of the other kids could find him.

Still thinking about this, she walked over to the entrance to the cellar below the kitchen where they stored most of the vegetables, planning to grab some more carrots. She was confused for a moment when she heard movement from deeper in the pantry. She reached over and touched the panel near the door that controlled the magic lights.

The newly illuminated figure startled as the lights came on, whipping around to stare at her with wide eyes.

“Virgil?” she asked.

“Sorry,” he said immediately, taking a step back.

“It’s fine,” she said immediately, “but what are you doing here?”

He considered her for a long moment, but apparently, she passed some sort of mental test, because he relaxed, at least as much as he’d ever relaxed in her presence. “Where are we?” he asked.

Her brow knit together. “The cellar under the kitchen,” she said, “You don’t know that?”

He shook his head.

“The only entrance is from the kitchen.” Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him go through the kitchen at any point.

“No, it’s not,” Virgil said. “There’s a tunnel.”

“A-a tunnel?” she asked. Actually, taking a closer look at him, he seemed a bit grimy. He had dust all over his front and dirt on his nose. She thought he might even have a couple of cobwebs in his hair.

“Yep,” he said.

“Where’s the tunnel?” she asked.

“It’s right over here,” he said. He took a couple of steps and pointed to the ground. There was an open square hole there that clearly had been made a long time ago but which she had never noticed in all of her time working here.

“How did you find this?” she asked.

“We were playing hide and seek,” Virgil explained. “Logan said I could hide anywhere inside the castle. I hid on top of a dresser upstairs in some unused sitting room. There was a hole in the wall above it, so I climbed into it. Then, I crawled a little bit and it let out into a hidden passage in the walls. I wandered around in it until I found another hole in one of the walls. I thought it was a way out, so I squeezed into it, but it took me to a different hallway where I found an old room. There was a different hole in that room that had probably been covered by something because it was in the floor but whatever it was had rotted away. I crawled though it into a tunnel and came out here.”

She couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his explanation. “Well, it sounds like you went on an adventure,” she said, “but Patton and Logan have been trying to find you. You missed lunch.”

He tilted his head at her. “I know. I was supposed to hide.”

“Yes,” she explained, “but you are supposed to come out at some point if they can’t find you for things like food.”

“Oh,” he said.

“They probably should have explained,” she said. “For now, why don’t we get you something to eat? You must be hungry.”

Virgil frowned. “But I missed lunch.”

“You can still eat even though it’s not in normal hours,” she said. “You could even if you had made it to lunch.”

“Really?” he asked, he looked tragically confused by this offer.

“Of course, sweetie,” she said. “In fact, I insist you get something good to eat right now. How about I made you a grilled ham and cheese sandwich? Maybe some cookies too!”

Virgil titled his head. “You are Patton’s mother,” he stated.

Helen laughed softly. “He gets its all from me,” she said. “We should probably go find him and tell him you’re okay. He was worried.”

“I didn’t mean to worry him,” Virgil said with a frown.

“I know,” Helen said. “It’s okay. He’ll probably laugh when he figures out where you’ve been, and Logan will interrogate you all about the secret passageways.” He seemed happy about the prospect of seeing his friends. “Come on, let’s go upstairs for a bit,” she said.

Chapter 33

Patton’s mom had already made Virgil sit down at the small table in the corner of the kitchen and had handed him a sandwich by the time Patton barreled into the kitchen, Logan coming after him at a more sedate pace.

“Virgil!” he said, sounding surprised and relieved.

“Patton,” Patton’s mom scolded. “No cats in the kitchen.” Patton had brought Marisol in with him and had let her go as soon as he’d seen Virgil. She immediately plodded over to him and hoped onto the table to sniff at his face in greeting.

“But she’s the princess!” Patton argued.

“No,” Logan said.

“Yes, she is!” Patton said.

“The stupid cat is not a princess.”

“Don’t be mean to your little sister, Logan.”

“I regret every life decision that has led me to this point.”

While Logan and Patton were distracted squabbling and Patton’s mom was distracted watching them squabble, Virgil tore off a bit of the ham in his sandwich and offered it to Marisol. Marisol gracefully took it from his grip and ate it.

“So, this is Logan’s new cat I’ve been hearing about?” Patton’s mom asked.

“Indeed,” Logan said, his lips thinned. He and Marisol were mostly amicable when alone with just them and Virgil, but Patton had a habit of cooing over the kitten and needling Logan into being irritated.

“Mmm, yeah,” Patton’s mom said. She glanced over at Virgil right as Marisol basically slammed her face into his chin in a bid to get pets. “Your cat.” She shook her head. “But Princess Kitten or not, I do not want fur in dinner,” she said.

“Sorry,” Patton said, honestly not sounding sorry at all. Virgil was always a bit surprised when the insolent shrug garnered nothing more that a scowl that did not reach Patton’s mom’s eyes. “I thought she could help me find Virgil, but you already found him.” He turned to Virgil. “Where have you been all day?”

“Found a tunnel,” Virgil said. He had to use one hand to hold Marisol back from his sandwich as he took another bite, but then gave her a bite of cheese.

“You found what?” Logan asked.

“There’s a tunnel under the cellar,” Virgil said. “It goes to an old closed up room and also to a set of secret passageways.” It was a bit of a security risk honestly, though clearly no one had used it in years by how dirty it was. He did plan to go back into it and make sure the sprawling tunnels didn’t go to anywhere more dangerous like the royal wing.

“A closed-up room?” Logan said. He could see a bit of curiosity already building in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “Where the door used to be seemed like it had been bricked over.”

“Really? Can you show me.”

“Sure,” Virgil answered.

“Ah, perhaps we should be a bit more cautious about climbing through random tunnels we don’t know the stability of,” Patton’s mom said.

Logan’s frown edged on a pout.

“Talk to your father,” she said. “I’m sure he can get someone who understands these things so you can safely investigate.”

“It was safe enough for Virgil,” Logan pointed out.

“No, Logan.”

He sighed but seemed to concede. That was another strange thing about living here. By all rights Logan didn’t have to obey anyone except the king, but he often listened to those around him, not just the adults but Patton as well. It was interesting though it sometimes made the hierarchy hard to figure out. Virgil did sometimes stress out about the hypothetical situation where he got conflicting orders from two people, and he wouldn’t know which one to obey. So far it hadn’t been a problem luckily. They always seemed to work it out amongst themselves in some give and take social interaction that was a bit too complex for him to understand.

Patton walked over to where Virgil was sitting. “I’m glad your safe,” he said. “We should probably put a time limit on hide and seek in the future, so you know when to come out.”

“Did I win?” Virgil asked. He’d honestly forgotten they’d been playing a game until Patton’s mom had asked how he’d found his way into the cellar.

Patton laughed. “I’d say so, yeah,” he replied. He leaned over to kiss Virgil’s forehead, but drew back immediately with a pinched expression. “You are… very dirty,” he said, rubbing his mouth.

Virgil nodded. “Your mom made me sit on a tablecloth,” he said gesturing to the fabric she’d laid over the chair.

Patton snorted out a laugh. “We’ll get you into the bath when you’re done eating and you can tell us all about your little adventure.”

“I would also like to hear about your discoveries,” Logan said. “Though you are not allowed to sit on the bed until you do not have spider webs in your hair.”

Patton’s eyes widened and he jumped away from Virgil, startling both Virgil and Marisol. The latter hopped from the table onto Virgil’s lap. “Spiders?!”

Virgil tilted his head at him in confusion.

“He isn’t a fan of spiders,” Logan informed him, his voice amused at Patton’s reaction.

Apparently deciding that she was no longer startled, but more confused by the noises Patton had just made, Marisol jumped out of Virgil’s lap to investigate, wrapping her way around Patton’s legs. He bent down to pat her back, though he still looked a bit startled.

“Your cat, huh?” Patton’s mom asked Logan once again. Virgil studied her. She had apparently missed Logan mentioning that he allowed Virgil on the bed. Or perhaps Logan was correct in his insistence that it wasn’t actually that big of a deal here. Virgil would rather not test that assumption, however, so was glad that it had been distracted from by Patton’s outburst.

“Creepy, crawly death dealers,” Patton mumbled into Marisol’s fur, having picked her back up. Virgil made a note to not inform Patton of all of the different types of spiders he’d seen skittering around in the castle walls today. Maybe he’d talk about them with Logan once Patton left. He’d probably be interested. Virgil had seen some he’d never seen before! Logan probably could even help him figure out what their names were. “You’ll protect me, won’t you kitty?” Patton asked Marisol.

She made a little ‘burrrr’ sound in response, which Patton seemed to take a confirmation.

“Aw thank you, baby! Such a good baby.”

50234

Virgil popped the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. Patton’s mom turned away and grabbed a plate stacked with cookies. She handed it to Logan. “Take these, and please get the health hazards out of my kitchen,” she requested.

Logan took them without complaint. “Come on, Virgil,” he said. “Let’s go get you clean.”

“We’re going to need so much soap,” Patton said.

Virgil looked down at himself. “I can go outside and get most of it off if you get me a bucket of water,” he offered.

“Virgil, it’s below freezing,” Logan said as though that had a baring on what he’d just said. Logan sighed. “No. Bathtub.” Virgil shrugged. “Honestly,” Logan said. He turned with the plate of cookies in his hand, clearly expecting to be followed. “You’re not going to catch your death pouring a bucket of water over yourself in the cold when there are literally over a hundred perfectly good bathtubs in this castle. For goodness sakes.” And well, Virgil wasn’t going to complain.

Chapter 34

Patton, to be completely honest, was not all that interested in the room that Virgil had found. Beyond just the fact that it would definitely have creepy crawly death dealers in it, he really did not understand the intrigue. If it had just been him, he probably would have just let a castle worker deal with it, but it was not just him. Logan was ecstatic with the prospect of investigating a secret in the castle. People who didn’t know him well may not believe it considering he spent most of his time with his nose in a book, but he was an adventurer at heart.

Thomas had been easily swayed into finding someone to help tear down part of the wall into the secret tunnel near the room (so no one would have to crawl through the kitchen cellar like Virgil). It had taken a few days, however, and Logan was practically bouncing off the walls waiting. Virgil, despite having already seen the room before, also seemed excited, though if that was because of his own curiosity or because he was just excited that Logan seemed so exited remained to be seen.

“They are silly, aren’t they,” Patton asked Princess Marisol. He was laying on his stomach on Logan’s bed and Princess Marisol had just put her little paw on his nose.

“Yes, I agree,” he said. “Don’t they know that we’re literally going to be 2 feet away from the normal hallway?”

“It is not silly,” Logan defended himself. “Any number of things could go wrong.” He sounded far too excited about the prospect of something going terribly wrong. “The tunnels could cave in and block off the exit or there could be some unknown pathogen in the air.”

Patton did not ruin his fun by mentioning that Logan’s dad had definitely basically baby proofed the tunnels for them ahead of time. Instead, he just said, “Don’t let Virgil hear you say that sort of thing. It will just stress him out.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” he said, waving off Patton’s concerns as he mulled over two different weird green planty things (potion ingredients, Patton assumed) before setting one aside and sticking the other in his bag.

“So silly,” Patton cooed at the cat. Logan let out a huff but did not choose to say anything about it this time.

Speaking of silly, Virgil came back from Logan’s bathroom then, and Patton tried not to giggle. “Is this right?” Virgil asked, sounding and looking confused. Logan, in his overexcitement about adventure had commissioned Virgil an outfit that actually fit. Said outfit, however, very much made it look more like Virgil was going on a safari instead of a two-foot detour from the normal castle hallway.

“Almost,” Logan said, “Here, let me.” Logan started straightening everything out and flattening the collar, reminding Patton of an overbearing parent on picture day. Virgil accepted the fussing without protest. It was adorable. Well, the outfit was ridiculous, but still, adorable. “There,” Logan said. “I think we’re ready to go now.”

It was about time. Patton was sure people were already waiting for them downstairs. Patton got up and patted Princess Marisol on the head. She looked up at them with interest.

“You can stay here, sweetie,” Patton told here. She seemed to consider it and then hopped down from the bed to go rub up against Virgil.

Patton guessed she was coming. It didn’t matter too much since Logan had given her a magical collar that allowed her to open most doors in the castle and everyone knew she was the royal cat now, so if she decided she wanted to come back to the room and nap, she could. (She was very aware of the power she held.)

She pranced happily by Virgil’s side all the way down the steps to the first floor of the castle. She was such a good kitty.

Well, she did hiss angrily at everyone who came too close to them, but still, a very good kitty.

Patton did lean down and pick her up so they could actually talk to the man waiting for them at the large hole in the wall. Logan went to talk to the castle worker while Virgil half hid behind Patton. He was clearly listening very intently to the conversation however, at least more intently than Patton was. Patton was busy shaking his head fondly.

“Yes, yes, Princess,” he said to the cat. “I know we do not trust the strangers, but I promise this stranger is perfectly safe.”

“How do you know?” Virgil asked.

“His name is Chester and I’ve known him since I was 9.”

#proofread stories #not writing

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karajaynetoday · 4 years

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everybody's got their demons, even wide awake or dreaming | part one

Photo credit: Jess Gleeson

Hello friends! Hope you’re having a lovely day wherever you are in the world. Thank you to everyone who voted in my little Google form thing on what they’d like to see me write next. Here’s Part One of my 5SOS x music journalist story. It’s a little angsty, and as the first chapter this is a lot of introduction to the OC and her story, but I hope you like it! It’s the first time I’ve written an OC into a fic, so I’d love to know your thoughts and if you’re interested in reading more about Lizzie and her adventures interviewing 5SOS.

Shout outs to @wheniminouterspace and @calumrose for helping me sense-check this concept, and @spicycal for giving me feedback on it in its draft stages. You’re all gems!

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings: Fem!OC, minor swearing

More writing here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | if you’d like to be on my taglist go here

Lizzie Lawson was having a bit of a day. Her train had been late, she dropped her coffee moments after receiving it from the cute barista downstairs (and broke her favourite keep cup in the process), and her work computer had decided to run updates the moment she sat down at her desk. Maybe she shouldn’t have bothered to get out of bed this morning.

Her colleagues were tapping away at their keyboards, answering phone calls, and discussing upcoming story ideas with each other - the usual tasks, especially for a Monday morning. Lizzie, computerless and caffeine deprived, had to settle for a cup of instant coffee from the kitchenette, and had taken to tidying up her desk while her computer was restarting over and over again but still somehow not ready for use. She was on the floor, sorting through the snacks in her bottom desk drawer (crackers that were two months’ past their expiry date, some gummy worms, and what seemed like hundreds of cans of tuna) when James, the music editor, stuck his head out of his office and called for her.

“Lawson! Where are you?” James sounded confused. He could’ve sworn he’d seen Lizzie at her desk moments ago, and then suddenly she popped her head up like a meerkat.

“Jimbo! Here. What’s crack-a-lackin?” Lizzie responded, standing up and brushing herself off as she headed towards where James was standing in his office doorway.

“Got a pitch for ya. Step into my office, if you’re finished with your spring clean.” James chuckled as he stepped back inside and sat down on the couch opposite his desk.

A number of journalism awards were displayed on the shelf above the couch, and the floor to ceiling window overlooked Sydney’s CBD and its tall, grey buildings, with a glimpse of the harbour ocean in the distance. Lizzie had to admit she’d imagined herself in James’ desk chair more than a few times; the music editor of one of Australia’s leading youth and pop culture publishing companies, regularly travelling the world to interview award-winning artists, and assigning and guiding well-crafted investigative pieces on the entertainment industry and those within in.

But, in reality, Lizzie had only recently worked her way up to being in the music department, after a couple of years on the news desk and a series of casual internships at different publications around the place. But music journalism, and the passion she had for live performances and watching artists grow and develop their sounds and aesthetics over their careers, was where Lizzie had always wanted her career to go. She was grateful to James for having her on the team, but she also knew that he didn’t recruit just anyone - so her writing must’ve been strong enough to get her here. James was a good boss, salt of the earth, always had his team’s back, but he was also a little mysterious, and this morning’s meeting was one of those where his face was giving absolutely nothing away as Lizzie joined him on the couch in the office.

“So, what’s up?” Lizzie said, trying to hide the nervousness in her voice.

“Well, Lawson. You’ve only been on deck for a few months, but turns out my gut instinct about you has paid off. That profile you did on the 1975 last month has gotten some good feedback and traction out and about.” James spoke in a measured tone, pulling his laptop off the coffee table and opening it.

“Oh! Well, that’s… good, right?” Lizzie still couldn’t figure out exactly why she was in James’ office. Or why she was so nervous.

“Correct, it is good. It’s been great to see you come into your own a little bit, and develop your interview style. I also really appreciated you stepping in to cover the Matt Corby interview for Hannah the other day, when she had that stomach bug.” James continued, seemingly searching for an email or something on his laptop as he spoke.

“No worries! Hannah’s notes were really thorough, plus I definitely had a Matt Corby phase when he was on Australian Idol back in 2006! Oof, that fringe, you know?” Lizzie cringed internally when she heard herself starting to babble.

James snorted, before clearing his throat. “I’m sure Matt was glad the 2006 hairstyle didn’t take up too many words in the final profile piece. He was pretty happy with it though, and his management were too, according to the label. So happy, in fact, that they’re requested you to profile another one of their artists.”

James had Lizzie’s full attention now, and she still couldn’t read his expression. “Really? Me? Who’s the artist?” She asked, trying not to get too excited too soon.

“Yes, indeed, you. 5 Seconds of Summer, or 5SOS. They’ve got a new album due out in a month or so, and their publicist is keen to fly you out to LA for a few weeks to follow them around while they wrap things up in the studio, and do a profile piece on their journey to date. Are you familiar with their stuff? They’re offering us an exclusive, something about the album being linked to their homeland or something, so they wanted to go with an Australian media outlet first.” James set his laptop back down on the coffee table and angled it so Lizzie could see an email on the screen that had a few lines of text and a photo of a band onstage.

5SOS. Was Lizzie familiar? Oh yes, she was familiar. Lizzie Lawson hailed from the western suburbs, and 5SOS was the area’s biggest success story. Aussie boys made good, with millions of albums sold, billions of song streams, thousands of concerts played all around the world, that was their career to date. But for Lizzie, 5SOS were always a bit closer to home. She’d attended the same high school as three of the band members, and Michael Clifford was someone she called her best friend, once upon a time. Ashton had also befriended Lizzie’s older brother Lachlan when they’d worked together at KFC. That was years ago now, and they’d all fallen out of touch, because sometimes that’s just the way the universe works. You grow up and you move on and you don’t keep the same friends, because sometimes they move to the other side of the world and get super famous as successful musicians. Or something like that. Even if they know your deepest secrets, or biggest fears, or hopes and dreams, or you trust them more than anything, sometimes they still leave you.

Lizzie’s previous state of intrigue quickly became panic, because what if she wasn’t actually being chosen based on the merit of her work? What if the 5SOS team knew about her connection to the band, and were going to use it to manipulate her writing in some way? What if it was all a ploy to get her and Michael in the same room so he could finally call her out on what had gone down between them all those years ago? What if -

“Lawson! You on planet earth still, or wait?” James snapped his fingers in front of Lizzie’s face to get her attention. She shook her head to clear it, and wrung her hands together in her lap.

“Yep, I’m familiar with their work. A little fuzzy on the most recent work, but I have a bit of knowledge on a lot of their early stuff. And Youngblood, of course. Everyone knows Youngblood. ARIA song of the year, a billion streams, etc etc.” Lizzie spoke, meeting James’ gaze as he cocked his head at her curiously. He knew Lizzie had a tendency to get a little nervous when she was put on the spot, but there was something about her right now that was a little more unsettled than usual that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“Good. Well, if you’re down, the label will cover three weeks accommodation in Los Angeles. Labels don’t usually do that kind of thing, but their manager is super keen for you to get enough quality time with the band to build up a solid profile piece. We’ll cover your daily expenses, I’ll send you instructions for the claiming app, and then we just need your passport to get the flights booked. Sound okay?”

“Y-yep. Yes. Okay. Right. When would I be leaving?” Lizzie pinched her thigh through her jeans to double check that she wasn’t dreaming, and that yes, this was actually happening.

“Friday midday. We’ll put some feelers out in LA, and see if there’s any other interviews you can do while you’re there, but your focus will be on 5SOS because they’re picking up the bill for your stay. But that being said, don’t let that sway what you write. They’ve requested you because they like your deep, detailed, open style of profiling, so don’t be afraid to ask some curly questions to get the answers that will craft the right piece, you know?” James spoke firmly, looking pointedly at Lizzie who quickly nodded in response.

“Right, well, I’ll cc you into this email chain with their publicist and manager, and we’ll go from there. You can hand over your other pieces to Hannah, you’ll need to spend the next few days prepping for LA and doing whatever research you need to feel ready. You’ve got this, Lizzie. I know you can do a great job.” James was trying to be encouraging, as he stood up and opened the door to his office, but Lizzie’s heart was pounding with nerves and she barely hear his words.

She walked back to her desk in a daze, and Hannah had to literally poke Lizzie in her side to get her attention and ask what James had said in the meeting. A few excited squeals and a bear hug later, Hannah was off and running talking about lists of things Lizzie needed to organise before her international adventure was due to begin in a few days’ time. Lizzie, on the other hand, still couldn’t believe it. What the fuck was happening?

The next few days flew by in a haze of emails, life admin, last minute shopping trips and a lot of deep breathing on Lizzie’s part, and before she knew it, she was wrangling her suitcase out of an Uber and into the international terminal at Sydney Airport. Lizzie, as a generally anxious person, had arrived the full three hours early for her flight, but her parents had treated her to a flight lounge guest pass (because they wanted her to know they were proud), so she was able to deal with her nerves by eating far too many complimentary croissants and hash browns.

Soon enough, the time to board the plane arrived, and Lizzie was grateful that she ended up in an empty row of seats, by some miracle. Praise be to the airline gods, or whichever higher power had decided she’d be able to at least try and get some sleep in the next fourteen hours. She’d set her phone and watch forward to Los Angeles time, so she could try and adjust her body clock accordingly, which meant that she’d have to stay up for a few hours at least.

Lizzie tried to be productive, and tapped away at her research notes on her laptop for a little while, before she found herself opening up the band’s instagram page in her browser. The four men staring back at Lizzie through the screen seemed a million miles away from the gangly, excitable teenagers she’d known all those years ago. There was an interesting intensity about them in the photograph, steely gazes and defined bodies under carefully selected clothing, but there was also a peacefulness in their poses beside one another. Like being together, in this moment captured minutes before heading onstage, was the most natural thing in the world. Lizzie found her eyes drawn towards Michael; his dirty blonde hair swept across his forehead (not dissimilar to the style he’d had in their high school days, to be honest), and it was accompanied by some scruffy facial hair and a dangly cross earring in one ear. His grey-green eyes seemed to peer right into her soul, and Lizzie involuntarily shivered at the thought of seeing him again in person in a day or so.

She was still anxious about whether or not this entire thing was a scam, but nonetheless, she was going to try her darndest to be a consummate professional, and write the best profile story of her life. In her research, Lizzie had reviewed some previous 5SOS interviews, and she’d cringed her way through their Rolling Stone interview from many years prior. She remembered reading it at the time it was published, unable to believe some of the words attributed to the boys she’d once called her friends, and the intense aftermath that followed. Understandably, they’d avoided in-depth profile interviews since, so Lizzie was incredibly curious as to why they’d changed their mind. Why now? Why her? She closed her laptop and drifted into sleep, curled up across three airplane seats and tucked under a thin blanket.

Lizzie’s shoulders and neck were stiff when she awoke, an hour or so before her flight was due to land. She used the in-flight wifi to check her emails quickly, and noted a new one from 5SOS’s publicist Danielle, which welcomed Lizzie to Los Angeles and explained that she should catch a taxi to her accommodation at the address listed, and that she should give her a call once she was checked in. Right. That seemed straight forward enough.

LAX customs were intimidating as ever (god, Lizzie was so nervous), but Lizzie made it through without incident and was able to quickly make her way into a cab with a driver who seemed familiar with her accommodation address. They drove her to a boutique-looking hotel, and when Lizzie checked in and made her way up to her room, she was pleasantly surprised at how nice it was. A queen-sized bed, a good desk for working at, a nice view from her balcony of the Hollywood Hills, a small kitchenette with a fridge and microwave, and a glorious bathroom that had a very enticing bath tub in it (Lizzie’s shoulders and neck were already thankful for the idea of being able to soak in some nice hot water for a while).

After checking the room for serial killers (better to be safe than sorry, right?) Lizzie had a quick shower and changed out of her travel trackies and oversized hoodie into a pair of jeans, a clean shirt and a blazer, before opening up her phone and scrolling down to Danielle’s contact. A few deep breaths were required before Lizzie built up the courage to press “call”.

“This is Danielle!” A cheery American accent answered on the other end of the line.

“H-hi Danielle, this is Lizzie, from Junkee Australia. You said in my email I should give you a call once I was all checked in, and I am, so…” Lizzie found herself giggling nervously and facepalmed.

“Lizzie, of course! How was your flight? Long and boring?”

“Yep, that about sums it up!” Danielle’s enthusiasm made Lizzie feel like she had to perk herself up a bit in conversation.

“Well, I’m sure you’re gagging for a nap, but we’ve got to get you adjusted to the timezone so we can make the most of your time here. I’m just finishing up something in the office, but I can swing by your hotel in about 45 minutes, and we can go over your story pitch and the band schedule for the next few weeks, and figure out your interview time slots and other things you can go along to observe, if that works for you?” Lizzie could hear Danielle’s keyboard clacking as she spoke.

“Sure, well, you have my number now, so just text me when you get here. I’ll try my best not to nap in the meantime.” Lizzie’s somewhat dry response got a laugh out of Danielle, who agreed and bid her farewell, ending the call.

Placing her phone down on the bedside table, Lizzie looked around the hotel room that was set to be her home away from home for the better part of the next month, and spotted a coffee machine on top of the mini fridge. If she was really going to keep her no-nap promise, caffeine was definitely in order.

True to her word, Danielle arrived at the hotel within the hour, and soon Lizzie found herself sat beside Danielle on a fancy couch tucked in a corner of the hotel lobby. Danielle had opened up her laptop, and also pulled a plastic folder of documents out of her tote bag.

“Okay, so… I’m sure you’ve done your own research, but here’s a few hard copies of the band bio, album press release, and a few other tidbits from the label, along with a hard copy of the band schedule. It’s all confidential and coded, the electronic version I’ve emailed you will have the proper locations for everything, but I thought a print out might be handy anyway. The boys are recording some stuff at the studio Calum has at his house tomorrow, so I figured we could introduce you there and then after that figure out what else you’d like to get done. There’s an industry showcase for some of the new songs at the end of the week, and then they’re doing various promo and album prep things, finalising mixes, photoshoots, etc, so there’s a bit of variety for you. Any initial thoughts on how you want to do the interviews for your profile?” Danielle rattled off, gazing at Lizzie expectantly when she finished speaking.

Lizzie blinked at her a few times before collecting herself. “In my research, I found it really interesting to hear the band and some of the fans talking about how 5SOS has evolved into the collective effort of four individual artists, not just the band as one artistic music entity, so I was hoping, if possible, to interview them individually, as well as observing them as a group. Would.. Would that be okay, do you think?”

Danielle pursed her lips, before breaking out into a smile.

“I think that sounds exactly like something the band would be willing to do. Damn, Matt Emsell was right - you do know your stuff.” She chuckled, handing the folder of documents over to Lizzie and pulling out the schedule that was on top.

“So studio at Calum’s tomorrow from 10am, I’ll swing by and collect you so we can do introductions, I’ll stick around for a bit just to make sure you’re all good but otherwise I’m just going to let you do your thing. The band have been doing this for long enough now, they don’t need their publicist hovering.”

The curiosity was killing Lizzie. She couldn’t not ask.

“Danielle, I’ve got to ask this, sorry. Do the band… know me? Know that I’m the one coming to interview them?” Lizzie managed to get out, avoiding eye contact.

“What do you mean?” Danielle cocked her head to one side, clearly confused at the question. “I sent them the Matt Corby piece you did, and they liked that, so that was one of the reasons we asked you out here. So they’re familiar with your work, if that’s what you’re asking?”

“No, um… oh god, I’ve made this super awkward now.” Lizzie laughed dryly, wringing her hands together. “I mean, I know them. Personally. Or at least I used to. I’m from Sydney, and I went to school with Luke, and Calum, and… Michael. So I was just wondering, um, if they realised that it was me and that was part of why I was asked to come to LA for this…Not really sure why that would make them choose me, but I just wanted to make sure we were all on the same page before tomorrow.” Lizzie finally dared to look up at Danielle, whose expression was unreadable.

“Hmm, well, that is interesting. As far as I know, that wasn’t a factor at all. We all genuinely liked your writing style, so whether or not the boys made the connection, I have no idea. They’re not super keen on any irrelevant personal life stuff making it into this piece though, so if this is going to be a problem for you, we should deal with it now.” Her tone was slightly less warm than before, and Lizzie could sense the protective publicist side of Danielle kicking in.

“Definitely not a problem. I entirely intend to be fully professional, and like you said, my writing will speak for itself. Just wanted to put it all out there. Not a problem for me.” Lizzie spoke up, willing herself to sound more confident than she felt.

“Good. We have no problems here then. I’ve got to run, but text me with any questions, otherwise I’ll see you at 9.30am tomorrow for the drive to Calum’s!” Danielle’s tone was nice and bright again, as she shut her laptop and gathered her belongings, patting Lizzie’s shoulder in what she assumed was some sort of attempt at calming her nerves.

It didn’t work though. Not a problem for Lizzie? Bullshit. Not a problem for 5SOS, and Michael in particular? Seemed unlikely.

Lizzie was worried she’d have a restless night’s sleep because of her overwhelming anxiety about the next day’s reunion, but the exhaustion from her travelling overtook her and she almost slept through her alarm. A quick shower and a shot of espresso later and Lizzie was downstairs waiting for Danielle to pick her up to head over to meet the band.

“Morning! How’d you sleep?” Danielle chirped as she rolled into the car park, her car window down.

“Very deeply, thank you! The room is really comfortable. Thanks again for organising.” Lizzie mentally urged herself to keep up the small talk as a way of hiding her nerves.

The car ride over was mostly quiet, but when they pulled up outside of what Lizzie assumed was Calum’s house, she definitely felt like she was about to vomit.

“Just so you know, I flagged our conversation last night with the band. About your pitch around the individual interviews, and also about your little… connection to them. Ashton didn’t seem to think it was a problem, so it should all be fine.” Danielle mused, as she opened her car door and hopped out. All Lizzie could do was nod, because her throat was dry and she was starting to panic. She blindly followed Danielle through the front gate and around the side of the house to a building in the backyard, Lizzie strained to hear what sounded like raised, male voices floating towards them as they approached. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it didn’t entirely sound positive.

Danielle knocked loudly on the door and shot Lizzie a reassuring smile, before the shouting subsided and it swung open. Calum Hood stood in the doorway, and Lizzie sucked in a breath. It’d been eight years, maybe more since she’d last seen Calum, and even then, had they spoken? She couldn’t remember.

Calum smiled at Danielle, and then his eyes flickered over to Lizzie, not quite carrying the same happiness, but not entirely losing it either.

“Morning, ladies. Welcome to casa di Calum, come on in.” He spoke with that scratchy, deep voice of his that Lizzie had reacquainted herself with when watching hours of interviews during her research.

Danielle stepped passed Calum into the room, and she indicated for Lizzie to follow, which she did. Lizzie could feel Calum’s gaze on her as she brushed past him, but the minute she stepped inside, any sense of warmth or welcome she’d felt before vanished.

Luke and Ashton were standing over by the sound recording panel, turning to look at Lizzie and Danielle as they entered. Lizzie thought she saw a hint of a smile on Luke’s face (they had survived Year 8 Maths together, after all… that had to count for something, right?), but Ashton was unreadable.

Entirely obvious, though, was the look of bitter disdain on Michael Clifford’s face when Lizzie finally spotted him hunched over on the couch along the wall. Those grey-green eyes were staring her down with a harsh glare. It had familiarity about it, Lizzie realised, but not in a good way.

Danielle cleared her throat in the silence, and turned to Lizzie.

“Well, I believe introductions might not be required, but in the interest of professionalism and courtesy - “ Lizzie didn’t miss Danielle’s pointed glance towards Michael, who was still scowling silently towards everyone - “Lizzie Lawson from Junkee, I would like you to meet Calum Hood, Ashton Irwin, Luke Hemmings and Michael Clifford, also collectively known as 5 Seconds of Summer or 5SOS.”

Lizzie waved, and then immediately cursed herself for being so goddamn awkward. She received a nod of recognition from Ashton, and small smiles from Luke and Calum. From Michael, more scowling. This was going to be a long three weeks.

“So, Lizzie, why don’t you go through the pitch for the profile that we discussed yesterday? The boys already have a bit of an idea, but I’m sure they’d love to hear it from you.” Danielle was being overly encouraging, but it worked, and Lizzie took a deep breath before speaking.

“Thanks, Danielle. And thank you to you guys, honestly. I know this is a little strange for all of us -”

“Fucking oath it is.” Lizzie heard Michael mutter under his breath, but she continued, undeterred.

“But, I’m really excited to have the opportunity to interview you and pull together this story. Especially on behalf of the Australian music media. I know they haven’t always given you the recognition you deserve, but I think this piece is a chance to overcome that. Anyway, the specific pitch I’d love to go with is reflective of you as individual artists, as well as the collective band group. If it’s suitable, it’d be great to have the chance to speak to each of you one-on-one as well as a group, to give a holistic view of your journeys as people and as musicians and what you’re trying to achieve with this album. So… yeah…” Lizzie trailed off nervously, clenching her hands at her sides.

“I love it. We’re happy you’re here, Lizzie. I really loved the Matt Corby piece Danielle sent us, and like you said, it was really important for us to have the perspective of an Australian journalist for this story and where we’re at right now.” Ashton’s calm voice broke the silence, as he nodded at Lizzie in agreeance. Luke and Calum nodded too, and Lizzie tried not to look towards Michael because no doubt he was still glaring at her.

“Great! Everyone’s on the same page. I have to dash off to a meeting, but Lizzie has my number if she needs it, otherwise all of you please behave and don’t scare her off, nor say anything that means I’ll have to destroy her tape recorder. Sound good? Good!” Danielle rattled off quickly, moving out the door and shutting it behind her.

The tension in the air was thick, and it was all seething from Michael’s direction towards Lizzie. She closed her eyes for a moment, before reaching into her bag and pulling out her phone, notebook and pen. She spotted a chair behind her, and turned back towards Luke and Ashton.

“Well, where do you want to start? A group sit down, some general thoughts on the journey so far and what the album experience has been like?” Lizzie offered, trying to make herself sound enthusiastic, but also in control and like she knew what she was doing.

Luke, Calum and Ashton all murmured in agreeance, and moved themselves over to sit by Michael on the couch, while Lizzie dragged the chair she’d spotted over to sit facing them.

“Right. All good if I audio record this?” She asked, hitting record on her voicenotes app after three heads nodded at her.

“So, the album. Where did it begin? Did anyone or anything influence or kick off the sonic direction or the start of the exploratory process?”

The conversation was flowing quite well, Lizzie though. Ashton dominated most of the responses to her questions, but Luke and Calum chipped in their perspectives throughout. Michael didn’t say a word, even when Calum poked him in the side, and instead of glaring at Lizzie he was now staring blankly at the wall over her shoulder. An improvement, sort of, but still not ideal from a journalist and interviewee perspective, let alone when the interviewee was someone who used to be Lizzie’s best friend.

Before she knew it, an hour had past, and Ashton stood, remembering a meeting they had scheduled with the label and their management team, and bringing the interview to a close.

As Lizzie was packing up her equipment, she cautiously brought up the topic of the one on one interviews.

“So, does anyone in particular have free time in the next few days, so I can start on the individual profiling part of the story?” Lizzie asked, her tone hopeful.

Michael’s response was to push straight past her and walk out of the studio, muttering to himself and slamming the door as he went. The loud noise made Lizzie flinch, and she realised her heart was racing and her hands were a little shaky.

“I’ve got time, LL Cool J. I’ll meet you at Joan’s on Third for lunch, say 1pm?” Lizzie smiled at the pld nickname Calum slipped into his quiet response to her question.

“Works for me, C Dizzle Swizzle. Thanks again for your time today, I really appreciate it. Not to sound like a broken record, but I’m really excited for this piece and the chance to tell your story.” Lizzie found herself grinning like an idiot as she met Calum’s warm gaze, and noted that Ashton and Luke were also smiling at her.

“We’re excited too, Lizzie. Even if… some of us might not quite be as enthusiastic as they should be. But, don’t worry. He’ll come round.” It was Luke that spoke this time, his striking blue eyes somehow staring straight into Lizzie’s soul as he looked at her.

“Here’s hoping.” Lizzie tried not to sound too dull in her response, but it was a challenge.

Because honestly, how the fuck was she going to do a profile on all four members of 5 Seconds of Summer, if one of them could barely stand being in the same room as her?

Time will tell, Lizzie thought to herself as she walked out of the door to Calum’s studio and into the warm California sunlight. Time will tell.

Taglist: @suchalonelysunflower @blackbutterfliescal @redrattlers @loveroflrh @spicycal @notinthesameguey @metalandboybands

More writing here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | if you’d like to be on my taglist go here

#5sos imagine #5sos fanfiction #my writing #ashton irwin imagine #luke hemmings imagine #calum hood imagine #michael clifford imagine #5sos blurb #ashton irwin fanfiction #luke hemmings fanfiction #calum hood fanfiction #michael clifford fanfiction #whew this is the longest thing i've written so far #hope you like it #it's fine if you don't tho #the posting anxiety is REAL omg

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hydra-collector · 4 years

Text

Whole: Chapter One

AO3

Fic Page (all chapters listed here)

Second Fic in the Series

Chapters Finished: 6/6

Ship: Intrulogical

Characters: Logan Sanders, Remus Sanders, Patton Sanders, Virgil Sanders (minor)

TW: self-harm, panic attacks, suicidal thoughts, food, sex mention

Words: 3,630

Summary:

Logan can't feel.

Because every time he does, someone gets hurt. His emotions have no place in the world. He vows to squash them down until finally, maybe they'll be gone. But it's not a good idea to suppress such an important part of yourself, to tear your sadness, happiness, anger, until you're left dry and empty.

And Logan doesn't understand that until he meets someone. Someone very, very special.

Note: I actually have this finished, it will be updating daily. I’m likely going to write some extra works, later in Remus and Logan’s lives.

Why are you yelling? Stop yelling, stop.

Logan didn’t know what else to do. He had to tell them why this was happening, they were wrong, he couldn’t control this. It was awful, this awful feeling that made him completely unable to focus while incredibly worried about how he wasn’t focusing. He was just trying to tell them why.

But he didn’t have to yell.

He had no reason to be angry at them. They did nothing wrong. But he couldn’t help it. He wanted to scream and cry and hug his mom. He wanted her to understand what this was like. The fuzzy mold that dug into his brain and gave him fears that he didn’t want. The bricks that crawled into his chest and weighed him down and he couldn’t get up. But she didn’t understand them and he couldn’t explain, so he yelled.

He hated yelling. It hurt, it scratched, he knew it was bad and he should stop, but he couldn’t. He needed to cry and he did cry, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to destroy something, he was angry, he wanted to punch someone.

He couldn’t.

He was nine, he shouldn’t be doing this to his mother. She was good and kind, and all he did was hurt her. He was awful to her, and she tried to help, but he couldn’t stop from getting annoyed, or angry, or sad. He couldn’t help but wail when the bricks got too heavy, he wanted them to be lighter. He had to move, had to hit something when the fears wouldn’t go away. He was scared his mother hated him, that she would abandon him with his brother. It didn’t make any sense, but he knew what he was doing to her and he didn’t stop. He was too much work for her.

Two years later, he was the same. Still loud, still full of emotions. His throat hurt all the time, his mother kept getting fed up (she’d tried to take him to a therapist and that didn’t work), his brother Patton was scared for his health, and his dog wouldn’t let him anywhere near her. He’d developed ways to stop bothering them, though. Hold his hand to his mouth and bury his head in the pillow until the frustration went away. Bite his arm so he couldn’t keep screaming. Hit his head again and again and again until he couldn’t be angry anymore. It hurt. It was calming.

He’d managed to become a bit less of a nuisance, at least. He’d tried to stop explaining the bricks and the mold and just let them be. They always fade after a while to something manageable. His tears were his own now. His emotions were his, and no one else needed them.

He tried to be happier for his mom. He spent more time with Patton, trying to make him happy. Patton was concerned for him, and he appreciated that, but he knew asking for help would only make them suffer, and they weren’t allowed to suffer. Only he could suffer.

He vowed to become a robot someday. Where he didn’t want to scream or hurt people. Someday it would be gone, everything would be okay. Maybe he’d have a wife and kids that he didn’t hurt like the people he loved now. They would love him and he would deserve it.

Another two years and it had a name.

Depression. Anxiety. Mental illness. They told him what he was and he hated himself even more. He was a thirteen year old being told that he’d been sick since he was a child. He was given ways to cope. He’d never tried to bleed.

He did the day he learned he could.

It was freeing. Hitting and biting was hard, but slicing his skin was so easy and so pretty. The blood that rose from within told him that he was a person, and an awful one. If anyone ever saw, it would be the end of this.

He didn’t yell anymore. Most of the time he was absolutely silent. Yes, he participated in class so he didn’t get a bad grade, but only the bare minimum. He never raised his voice, never allowed himself to laugh too loud. His brother was scared for him, but he didn’t know the half of it. He had few friends, only one other anxious teen named Virgil. He felt more comfortable talking about fear and self-hate, but only in a joking way. He had to close himself off from everyone. He couldn’t hurt anyone.

His mother had, again, tried to get him to go to therapy. She said it would help his anxiety. God, she didn’t even know. He stopped cutting his arms pretty early on, since his mother got concerned that he always wore long sleeves. His legs got all the more blood on them.

How could he have this with people who care? How could he hate himself this much when nothing had ever happened to him? Why had this ever happened?

He didn’t know.

Fifteen was his worst year yet.

He’d made so many friends this year, yet it all got worse. He felt like he couldn’t breathe most days, like every day he was dying. He wanted that, he wanted this feeling gone. How could he heal after eight god damn years?

It was a warm October morning today. The sun shone on his back, glittering across the autumn leaves. The normally boring school looked orange and majestic. Students laughed and chatted as he passed by.

It had been a bad month. He was sure that he’d only been happy for a couple hours in the past thirty days. He didn’t understand why he hadn’t killed himself yet.

Patton was talking to him about something, probably about another cute kid. Ever since he’d come out as pan, he’d endlessly talked about the people he found attractive. It was exhausting for Logan to hear his brother point out girls he might like. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to come out.

He wanted to date. It might be nice to have someone to kiss and cuddle, to offer comfort when the days got bad. To have more comfort than cold, sharp blades. He couldn’t do that, though. He’d hurt enough people already.

Still, he couldn’t help but fantasize about some guy that would share his interest in science, talk to him about space and chemistry and biology. He wasn’t good enough for someone like that. Someone that would never date him.

He waved to Roman and Virgil as they passed. They were probably scheming some new way to get out of doing classwork. Logan sped up, realizing it was nearly time for him to organize Ms. Kachinsky’s books. He had to finish before she left her room in the morning to teach. There was supposed to be another kid, too, so he couldn’t be late.

“Hey, Lo, where’re you going?”

“Kachinsky, remember?”

“Ohhh, yeah.”

The building was cold inside. He headed into his teacher’s room, decorated blandly with supposedly motivational posters. He’d volunteered to do this job, no one else was going to organize encyclopedias for a 70-year-old woman. He didn’t know why she even had so many.

As he walked into the half-renovated closet, he was presented with many emotions.

One, this man was munching on a sheet of paper.

Two, he was not adhering to the dress code.

Three, Logan was glad he wasn’t because a crop top and booty shorts looked damn good on him.

“Um. Hello.”

The teenager looked up, paper in hand. He stood up and tossed it in the trash, swallowing. Logan pointed slightly to the trash can.

“You were eating a piece of paper.”

“Yeah?”

“That doesn’t seem like it should be healthy.”

“I looked it up, it’s pretty much fine. Are you here to start on the books?”

Logan nodded and the two of them got to work in silence. The boy was pretty, he had a slight mustache that doesn’t work for many people, but it did for him. He looked a little like Roman, but with a broader build and stronger jaw. He was exactly the type of person that Logan would have designed as the most attractive, in his opinion, if he would have ever designed an attractive man.

“How’d you get roped into this?”

The boy turned his brown eyes to look at Logan expectantly, who wasn’t expecting any kind of interaction with him.

“I volunteered.”

“Oh, teacher’s pet?”

“She’s 70. No one else was going to help.”

“Fair. This is my substitute for detention ‘cause I have to work after school. I’m Remus.”

He stuck out his hand, which Logan took.

“Logan.”

“Oh, really? I was kinda looking into that name. One of my friends stole it, though.”

A look of confusion crossed over Logan’s face, but it disappeared as Remus held out the trans pin on his jacket. He noticed now how many pins there really were. There was the trans one, he/him, a weed symbol (however he got away with that), a skull one, an atom one, a chemistry tube, a gay flag, and various other little ones. They offered quite a bit of insight onto his personality, which seemed more and more attractive as their interaction went on.

Remus kept talking to him, which he didn’t quite understand. He didn’t have much of a personality, and what he did have, he didn’t really show. Most of his personality was just extreme emotions. He didn’t show those, either.

They did get to talking, though. Remus somehow pried out Logan’s interest in science and his plans for the future. They talked about how they’d do anything in STEM if they could. They talked about how annoying humanities majors were, and how annoying they were to humanities majors.

They finished the books, and Remus’s conversational skills got Logan to stay a tiny bit longer. Too much longer.

Before they even knew, there was a click at the door. The closet was big, so it wasn’t like they were right next to the door.

“What was that?”

Logan headed cautiously to the door and turned the knob. It wouldn’t budge.

“We’re locked in.”

Remus whispered “shit” under his breath before running to the door and banging loudly. The sound was fast and loud. They were locked in, they wouldn’t make it to class, they’d get in trouble, he’d be awful all over again-

He couldn’t breathe. He was a failure all over again. He needed to get to class, his nails dug into his skin, his razor could help now, but he was shaking now and everything was wrong and this was supposed to be a simple morning thing and he shouldn’t have stayed and he shouldn’t have liked Remus and he shouldn’t feel anything, not anger, not fear, not sadness, not love-

“Hey, hey, are you okay? Is there anything I can do?”

This is the first time you meet him and he’ll already know you’re fucked up.

Logan dodged away from him, tripping over a chair and falling on the floor. He could barely control his movements, his arms and hands wouldn’t listen to him, and he was already seeing this, he was never going to get a boyfriend or make another friend and he was dumb for thinking that. He grasped his upper arms with his hands, digging his nails into them, hoping it would help enough to stay fucking still.

“Logan, can you take my hands? If you don’t want to, that’s fine, I know we don’t know each other, I just wanna help.”

Logan tentatively reached out his hand, well aware of the indents on his arm. Remus’s hand was warm and strong, so he reached out his other hand as well. He rocked slightly, trying to steady his breathing.

“If you’re worried about getting in trouble, they can’t exactly blame us for getting trapped in a closet. It’s only one day, I’m sure it won’t hurt to miss a class or two. You can make up work and you can talk to your teachers if you’re concerned about missing important stuff.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks. I’m sorry for wasting your time with that.”

“Don’t be. It’s okay.”

Logan leaned against the wall now, holding his knees. Remus slid down beside him.

Why do you feel comfortable with him?

Even from their distance, Logan could feel his presence there.

You just met him.

“Whaddya wanna do?”

“...I think I have travel checkers.”

“...Sure.”

Logan searched through his bag, pulling out a tiny box and opened it. The little magnetic pieces had to be pried off of the board and rearranged. They played probably over ten times before the game couldn’t sustain their attention any longer. Logan started trying to stack them, knowing it wouldn’t work, but hey, he was bored. Remus took the ones Logan wasn’t using to form the shape of male genitals.

“Hey, could I borrow some of yours?”

Logan wasn’t getting anywhere anyway. He pushed his pieces over to Remus and leaned back on the wall. He checked his watch. It was already an hour past the time they were supposed to be in class, and no one had come by yet. They probably weren’t going to until Ms. Kachinsky came back to get her lunch. Since her room was being renovated, she was teaching health either in other classrooms or outside if they got desperate.

Remus looked rather proud of himself when he finished his creation.

“So we’re stuck in here for another few hours, with nothing to occupy us but encyclopedias, whatever we have in our bags, and each other.”

“The things you could do to someone in here… With someone. That’s not better.”

“Who cares what anything implies at this point?”

Remus joined Logan against the wall, staring blankly with him.

“You got your phone?”

“Didn’t think I’d need it. How about you?”

“Broken. Like it usually is. At least I have a job. And a brother.”

Remus paused for a moment before speaking again.

“I suppose we’re kinda obligated to become friends. After spending so much time alone in a closet.”

“We could play a game. You do that with friends, right?”

“Never have I ever been stuck in a closet before.”

Logan held up his fingers and put one down.

“If we’re talking metaphorical closets, yeah.”

He took a moment to realize what he’d just said. He’d half-outed himself to a practical stranger. He hadn’t come out to anyone yet.

“Oh, I guess I told a lie then.”

Remus put one of his own fingers down.

“...I’ve literally never come out before. You’re the first person and I barely know you. Heh, maybe I should actually tell my brother so he starts pointing out cute guys instead of girls.”

“I’m honored. Your turn.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess I’ll go for the boring one. Never have I ever been in a relationship. Not surprised, though.”

“Can I be excused ‘cause it was a girl?”

“Fair. You go.”

“Mm… Never have I ever had a dog.”

“Really? You seem like a dog person.”

Logan put his second finger down, shifting slightly.

“Nah. My dad’s allergic. I keep trying to sneak one in anyway, but my brother always catches me. Didn’t think it’d be that hard to get him on board. He loves dogs. Side effect of being the perfect child, I guess. You don’t let yourself do what you want. My parents are good parents, they just… trust him a bit more.”

“It’s not so bad to be independent. No trans kid with transphobic parents ever chopped off their hair, or binded for the first time, or wore a wig or a dress with their parents’ permission.”

“No one ever found their passion from someone who tried to choose their path.”

“Very insightful.”

“Thank you. Anyway, it’s your turn.”

“Never have I ever worn a crop top.”

“Hey, that’s cheating. You should, though, you’d look good.”

“Would I?” Logan’s cheeks dusted slightly pink.

“Would it be weird to offer you to try mine on?”

“Probably, but I don’t think either of us are very normal. Plus, you develop a certain kind of relationship with someone you’re locked in the closet with.”

Logan’s small blush only darkened as they turned away from each other and he heard fabric moving about. Remus tossed the shirt over his shoulder, and probably blushed as Logan took his own shirt off.

Remus had buttoned his jacket to cover his chest. It didn’t completely cover it, but it didn’t matter to him all that much (Logan, however, turned red when he saw it). The shirt fit reasonably well, a little loose but it looked good nonetheless. Logan was hesitant, but Remus might have thought it looked very good according to the color of his cheeks.

“Didn’t think you could get much hotter. I was very wrong.”

Well that confirmed it.

Logan didn’t usually get flustered so much that other people could tell, but this had triggered the darkest shade of pink to cross his cheeks. Remus giggled at that, which only made them darker.

“Hah, made you blush.”

“Was that your only intention?”

“Oh no, don’t get me wrong, I meant it.”

“We barely even know each other.”

“Are you saying I’m not allowed to flirt?”

“Do what you want, I guess. Sure. Flirt. All laws are broken, we’re locked in a closet.”

“Whatever I want?”

“Now it’s enough.”

“Fine. Got any more ideas?”

“Search for a morsel of food in my bag, maybe.”

“I might have chips in my bag. If not, I may have to resort to cannibalism.”

“Then you wouldn’t have anyone to talk to. And didn’t you say I was hot? Pretty sure a half-eaten body won’t be as nice to look at.”

“You never know.”

Remus found a small bag of chips in his bag, opening it and handing Logan some chips. They both munched quietly until it was done, then returned to their placement on the wall.

“Oh, do you want your shirt back?”

“Not really, but I should take it. Someday when we’re not trapped in a closet I’m gonna buy you a crop top.”

They changed back into their original clothes, Remus nearly stealing a glance at Logan’s shirtless body.

“How much time do you think we’ve got left?” Remus turned his head lazily towards the other boy.

“Probably another hour or so.”

“We never finished the game, did we?”

“No. Your turn, I believe.”

“Except now we both have to put a finger down ‘cause you wore the crop top.”

“That’s not how it works!”

“Hey, I put a finger down for metaphorical closets. Plus I let you wear my crop top, it’s only fair.”

“Well… I guess I have two left now.”

“Hah, three. I’m winning. Never have I ever,” Remus began, “eaten pie. It’s the one sweet thing I’ve never had. My mom tries to make it sometimes, but it always gets burnt. I’ve tried to convince them to let me eat it anyway.”

“Hm. Me neither.”

“Seriously? Hasn’t basically everyone eaten pie?”

“Too much sugar.”

“At least it’s fruit, though. I mean, you accepted the chips, those aren’t exactly healthy.”

“That’s an exception. We don’t have any other food.”

“Well, fair. Your turn.”

“Never have I ever… heh, never have I ever been happy. Shit, no, didn’t mean to say that.”

It’s not that inaccurate, though.

“Guess we’d both have to put a finger down. You’re smiling.”

“Hey, doesn’t mean I’m happy.”

“I know how smiling works. If it’s real, your eyes squint at least a little bit. Your eyes are squinting a lot. It’s cute.”

Logan accepted this and put another finger down. He hated feeling because he knew what it did to people when he did. When he was happy, he wasn’t on guard. He had to be careful about what he was doing, else he could end up being insensitive.

“Okay. If I can get one more, I win. Never have I ever been on a plane.”

“God, I wish.”

“Oh, come on. If you end up beating me, I’ll eat your homework.”

“Never have I ever had to copy someone’s homework.”

“Well I guess you managed to get both of us to one. My threat still stands. Never have I ever played piano.”

“Nope.”

“I’m gonna change that at somepoint. You’d be hot playing piano.”

Logan leaned in closer.

“Never have I ever been as pretty as you.”

“We both lose.”

“That- doesn’t even work.”

“Sure it does.”

“God, I barely know you and I’m flirting with you.”

“Like we’ve both said, locked in a closet. Who cares what we do? Honestly I’d be down to fuck if we weren’t in school.”

“We’re teenagers.”

“So? Heh, we’ve already taken our clothes off in front of each other.”

“We weren’t looking at each other.”

They heard footsteps from outside. Remus got up immediately and started knocking on the door as loudly as he could. They thankfully got closer, and they were both relieved when the doorknob turned and the classroom’s light poured in and it wasn’t just a dim lamp lighting the room. Logan felt as if he’d lost something, despite the return to class supposedly being a good thing. He felt just a little bit emptier.

“Ms. Kachinsky! I apologize, it seems as if we were accidentally locked in.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry, boys. I mean, I’m the one who locked you in here, I’m guessing. Well, you’d better get to class. I’ll send you both with a note.”

She wrote them both a note and they went on their way, no way of knowing what she’d just created.

#intrulogical #remus sanders #logan sanders #ts remus #ts logan #sanders sides #intrulogical fic #tw self harm #tw suicidal thoughts #tw food #tw sex mention #fanfiction #ts fic #ts fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #grays fics #whole

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laughingpinecone · 3 years

Text

ToT letter 2021

I am laughingpineapple on AO3

Hello dear author! I hope you’ll have fun with our match. Feel free to draw from general or fandom-specific likes, past letters, and/or follow your heart.

Art likes: characters doing something, even something very simple, illustrating a moment rather than abstractly posing. I also enjoy seeing them wear different clothes, getting a feel of what their fashion sense is like beyond their canon outfit(s). Or dressing them up for some outlandish AU!

Likes: worldbuilding, slice of life (especially if the event the fic focuses on is made up but canon-specific), missing moments, 5+1 and similar formats, bonding and emotional support/intimacy, physical intimacy, lingering touches, loyalty, casefic, surrealism, magical realism, established relationships, future fic, hurt/comfort or just comfort from the ample canon hurt, throwing characters into non-canon environments, banter, functional relationships between dysfunctional individuals, unexplained mysteries, bittersweet moods, journal/epistolary fic, dreams and memories and identities, canon-adjacent tropey plots, outsider POV, UST, resolved UST, exploration of secondary bits of canon, leaning on the uniqueness of the canon setting/mood, found families, characters reuniting after a long and/or harrowing time, friends-to-lovers, road trips, maps, mutual pining, cuddling, wintry moods, the feeling of flannel and other fabrics, ridiculous concepts played straight, sensory details, sickfic, places being haunted, people being haunted, the mystery of the woods, small hopes in bleak worlds, electricity, places that don’t quite add up, mismatched memories, caves and deep places, distant city lights at night, emphasis on non-human traits of non-human characters (gen-wise, but also a hearty yes xeno for applicable ships), emphasis on inhuman traits of characters who were human once and have sort of shed it all behind

DNW: non-canonical rape, non-canonical children, focus on children, unrequested ships (background established canon couples are okay, mentions of parents are okay!), canon retellings

All requests are for both fic and art!

Death Crown: Death, trick

(I haven't played the DLC yet so, alas, no demons, or no spoilers for the demons, at least) I am absolutely charmed by the overall mood of this game and would like to see something more in that vein! Anything! Got more sacred (or unholy?) geometrical architecture for Death to interact with, maybe in greater detail than just wrecking it? What else feels like a contemporary take on a Bosch painting? Can Death get lost?

Ghost Trick: Jowd, Cabanela, trick, treat

Anything focused on Cabanela being an unstoppable force (confident, untiring, sparkling, stubborn, dexterous, loyal to the bitter end, legs) and/or Jowd being an immovable object (sarcastic, strong, depressed, self-deprecating but knowing he's hot stuff, also stubborn, clever but an emotional dumbass, round). Figuring out stuff? Something in the new timeline is linked to the old timeline? Coat? Dancing? Scarves? Halloween costumes?

I like Cabanela/Jowd and Cabanela/Alma/Jowd and Cabanela/Alma in scenarios where Jowd isn't around and Alma/Jowd in general (REALLY like all these, okay. like this is the one request where I'd love the most self-indulgent shippy takes as well), and dig Lynne/Memry. Yomiel/fianSissel and Emma/JM also cool!

Hylics: any, trick, treat

(I have only played the first game so far so please no overt spoilers for Hylics 2. Feel free to include stuff from it but... stealthily, I guess?) This is an "anything that feels somewhat like canon, please" sort of request! Love the mood, love the cast, love the little added details in their menu screen. Those can be prompts? Or the oddball stats? How do ToT's trick and treat freeforms apply to Hylics' overall... hylicsness, what would those guys think constitutes a "creepy" moment or a "fluffy" one?

Not into ships for this one, however I WILL say that Dedusmuln has all the proverbial curves in the right places. mostly their face.

Kentucky Route Zero: Weaver

Math, debt, the liminal state of almost being a ghost, seeing the world with a strange clarity... just anything Weaver, please! How'd she make her way to the town? What was it like for her to be working on Xanadu for a time? What about the community broadcast! Does she have an opinion on Carrington's oeuvre? You know... things... stuff. Weaver things. and stuff.

I love the whole cast and Weaver... wove... her story through most of them so feel free to bring in whomever. Not interested in ships here though.

Paradise Killer: Lady Love Dies, trick

A post-canon glimpse of life on '''''perfect''''' 25? That's not QUITE enough class consciousness to make the whole thing work, you guys. What does 'normal' life feel like to LD now? After following Henry's case and talking to Shinji so much, can she see that it's doomed to fail again, and then what? What IS Island 25 like, anyway? (what comes after Island 25, even?)

I liked the choice of canon romances - if it has to be just one I'd prefer it to be Crimson, but I'd also be interested in seeing what a V or triad with Doom Jazz would look like. They're all so chill about stuff

Pyre: Volfred, trick, treat

Pragmatic idealist, charismatic and bad at people, pacifist, activist, physiologically incapable of shutting up for a hot second, what's there not to love... I am very into either of the following: C. Volfred Sandalwood has a fantastic day; C. Volfred Sandalwood has a terrible no good day. Everything is great! Pre-exile antiestablishmentarian antics, maybe with Bertrude? Political gambits? The very physical dangers of the Downside which may or may not catch a scholar by surprise (who saves him?)? Tree problems? Meeting Oralech for the first time and Volfred thinks he himself is hot stuff but out of the two, Oralech is clearly the VIP? Feeling like he should live up to Lu Sclorian's legacy but he feels much closer to other Scribes (and what does Lu have to say about it, one way or another?)? The thrilling intimacy of Reading? The thrilling intimacy of lowercase reading also, maybe reading old manuscripts found in the Downside?

I very much ship him with Tariq and/or Oralech. The only canon ship I like is Hedwyn/Fikani. I also like Soliam/Gol, Bertrude/Pamitha and Celeste/Jodariel. Love all the Nightwings + Dalbert (+Deluge...?); love to dunk on Manley, Brighton and Lendel (I don't enjoy flat-out bashing, more like... I enjoy the way they are portrayed as horrible gremlins in canon and if they turn up in fic I'm not interested in more positive portrayals)

Signs of the Sojourner: Rhea, Elias, trick, treat

Once again pretty much an "anything in the style of canon" request. I love this setting, its themes and all the little lives that fill it. I am interested in a wide range of postcanon scenarios and love the whole cast - does Rhea come back to $town any number of years down the line and find $character? How'd their storyline end up in the medium-long term? What the hell is up with the Stranger (seriously, three runs and I never managed to speak with them, I have no idea)? What's life like for Elias back home, or in a new home if they can't keep the store, or if Rhea landed the Oscar ending or whatever (just, please, not dead Rhea. I love that ending but can't stand to consider what it'd do to Elias)? Or does he join the caravan just once? Who did Rhea grow to really like and can't wait to see every time? Any ghost stories or creepy encounters on the caravan's route? Does Thunder help?

I'm neutral on ships here - good with Rhea&Elias, good with background Rhea/Elias but I wouldn't like a romantic focus.

Totally Normal Wizard Apprentice: apprentice, wizard, master, trick, treat

(conflict of interest disclaimer, I illustrated this but didn't write nor nominate it) What awaits the apprentice outside the wizard's tower? It sounds like a pretty wild moon out there, I loved all the worldbuilding hints of the bigger setting. Does the wizard keep track of the apprentice, with her telescope or otherwise, and how does she take care of her ruined parlor? Was this all some sort of 5d chess on the master's part, and if so to what end? And what kind of otherworldly patience does this man possess, anyway, to handle the apprentice on a daily basis?

Twin Peaks: Margaret, Diane, Lucy, Tammy, trick, treat

(bass-boosted ethereal whooshing) For tricks, I would like to see any of these characters face the woods, the mystery of the woods, and/or a new symbol of your liking. Or: Margaret in the city, Diane and the moon, Lucy and the color blue, Tammy incognito.

For treats, a happy meeting. I love the whole cast and I'm always thrilled by gonzo "&" pairings, bring in whomever! Coffee and pie? The Bookhouse Boys? A kinder aspect of the woods?

Fandom-specific notes: love s3, love the books too. I like Lucy/Andy, Margaret/Sam fwiw, and rarepairs Tammy/Cynthia and Diane/Constance. Please no Fireman's-house-is-the-white-lodge, no Twin Perfect, no Judy-was-destroyed (nor is destroyable).

Arcade Spirits: Percy, Teo, treat

More than anything, I love the sense of group and camaraderie among the arcade's staff and regulars, and I'd love to see some more of it. I picked Percy and Teo 'cause they're my faves but anyone you may want to add, up to and including Sue, is very very welcome. Is there any aspect of gaming that feels like it could be adapted to this strange world of contemporary arcades? Cosplay shenanigans for everyone courtesy of Ashley? Any other activity that could show how Percy and/or Teo get along with the others, like they were all forming little groups during the beach chapter? It's such a feel-good canon, any feel-good situation would be great!

My Ari is with Percy but I'm not really interested in shipping here. All sorts of friendships though!

#letter

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dreadnought-dear-captain · 5 years

Text

You Asked, I Told

Spoilers up to Chapter 37 of Baghdad Waltz

Hi everyone,

I’m so very sorry for being so late with getting Chapter 38 out. Writing that Spent Brass put a delay in everything, though it was really crucial to get it posted before this next chapter.

This has been a really tough chapter to get right for me. I’ve gone back to the drawing board more than once for a couple scenes. I’m not sure when it will be out, but I’m working on it daily and making some good progress. Thank you for sending me your words of encouragement and letting me know you’re thinking of me! I’m thinking of you too and know you’re really looking forward to more. It will be a doozy, in terms of content, so I hope it’s worth the wait.

In horrifying news, BW is turning THREE YEARS OLD on March 13th. Kill me. (But not before I finish this fucking thing.)

In the meantime, here are some answers to some Asks-------

Thank you so much for the very kind words. I’m so pleased that this story checks off so many of your boxes, and I’m relieved to know that the structure and methods I’ve chosen for storytelling have lent to a balanced narrative where you can appreciate both of these characters. I figure people don’t have to like each character equally, or at all. I just really want their choices make sense, for each character to have a distinct psychology, to have each action and reaction be believable, even if it is infuriating or illogical (it can still fall within the character’s internal logic, based on their own worldview). And I am so honored that this fic can serve as some inspiration for your own. God knows I have mine I go to on the reg when my stuff sucks and I can’t string two words together to save my life.

This is a deceptively silly question, I think (because I can’t keep anything simple). Working out together would be a nice little nostalgic throwback, wouldn’t it? I sometimes pop back to earlier chapters when they were in Baghdad and think about those times with a wistful smile. I think about the way they related, the way they looked, the relative lack of complications in their lives, and it’s such a profound departure from the way things are now.

Steve obviously has kept up his gym going with Matt. We’ve also seen that working out for him is about more than just being swole and hawt; it’s about control and regulating his emotions. And for Bucky, working out used to be a way of maintaining peak fitness for his career, which was one of the ways that he evaluated his self-esteem. If he was fit, he had value. Also, if he was fit, he was sexy, and we know that sexual capability is also one of the primary currencies he uses to determine his self-worth. He also used the construction of his physique as a way to develop his masculinity, the correct form of [gay] masculinity, rather than being a twink or a sissy. This was always a struggle against Bucky’s natural slim body composition, which has become his default again now that he’s been out of the military.

Now Bucky faces a couple of hurdles to exercise, whether he would do it for health or for building his physique. He has the challenges brought about by his many injuries - compromised grip in his left hand due to his massive forearm injuries and inconsistent rehabilitation efforts, ongoing pain in his right foot and a continued limp from that, significant back and hip pain due to very heavy load bearing and overcompensation from his foot injury. This would make it challenging for him to engage in any intense fitness program. What he really needs is to go back to physical therapy, and probably occupational therapy as well, but last time didn’t go so hot last time.

Even if he didn’t have to contend with his injuries, Bucky is at a bit of a crossroads in terms of how much energy he wants to put into rebuilding and maintaining his ideal physical self, which seems to be based on some prototype he picked up long ago (more on that in a future chapter). No chest hair, no body fat, muscles, a perfectly shaved asshole at all times… But he’s not 21 anymore. He has a boyfriend now. And even though he’d probably love to go to the gym to shoulder in on Steve’s time with Matt, I wonder if he would want to go for himself anymore. I wonder if going with Steve would be intimidating or make him feel pressured to fall back into his old patterns. Because now at least he has the excuse that he can’t lift heavy, that he can’t run, so he might as well not even try. But if he could, it would be interesting to see where his path would go as a 31-year-old man.

See? You thought it would be a simple “Yeah, there’re totes gonna go to the gym together, chapter 41, stay tuned!” or “No, probs not, I don’t think he’s much of a gym goer anymore.” Alas. I give no simple answers. This is why you have to wait 5 months for a BW chapter.

This is a good observation. Bucky loves himself a good drunk pizza. He also watches a lot of food-related TV when he drinks. Bucky has had to think a lot about food for various reasons. One is building muscle and physique when his body is telling him NO I WILL NOT. One is not eating so that he can get drunk faster. One is eating the right kind of diet so that he can have anal sex without having to worry about digestive issues (constipation, feeling too full, not being ‘ready,’ too much or too little shitting), which is a thing he would take seriously a hardcore bottom. I see things like pizza as a comfort food, family food, something Winnie would get for them every Friday night after they moved to New York. It’s a very emotional food for him, but he knows it’s “bad” for all of the aforementioned reasons, because it will make you fat and slow your buzz and stuff up your colon, so he might be most inclined to eat it when deep in a bender and doesn’t give a shit about those other things. Because Bucky not only drinks to forget and manage intense emotions, but he drinks also to just relax the relentless march of self-perpetuated, often absurd rules about what and who he is and what he can and should do. So yes, Bucky has some disordered eating, most of it functional, though a lot of his lack of eating recently is likely anxiety-related and/or stomach illness-related.

Another excellent observation. For those who might need a refresher, since this was in chapter 36:

The morning after Bucky shows up at Steve’s drunk and they have sex and many revelations are made about drinking during their relationship, Bucky gets honest about what happened the day before. He tells Steve: “I had my interview. It— I really don’t know how it went. I was so out of it. I’ve been so fucked up these past couple weeks. Just— it’s been bad. Really bad.” He tells the story of what happened at Scott’s. Steve asks why Bucky didn’t tell him he was struggling, and Bucky says that he didn’t want to get into it. Steve shifts in to talking about whether they should get back together.

I think there are a couple things here I could say. Yes, Bucky saying that he’s struggling is an example of some unusually straight-forward honesty that’s also a personal risk for himself. That’s a real measure of progress! But while I think this honesty is something that’s pretty new, the fact that he’s in a bad place mentally is not new information to Steve. I think back to the chapter before, after Bucky’s PT appointment with Luke, where he was clearly very distraught and having an extremely difficult time. Steve couldn’t get him to say what was happening then, but it was clear that it was something very major. So I don’t think this really felt to him like a major revelation, like Bucky’s really been holding it all together perfectly while imploding on the inside. I think this observation was more like, why didn’t you just TELL me you were struggling rather than having to have me wonder and then get wasted and come here drunk? Steve has a long history of asking Bucky if he’s okay and getting the brushoff. He’s probably starting to get tired of always asking and getting shot down.

Another part of your question is also very valid - is this the right time to get into a relationship?? Haha. Ha. Well, nobody said these two were good at making relationship decisions. But on a more serious note, Bucky having struggles is not only not new information for this month, it’s not new information for their relationship. Bucky has always had a secret life of pain that Steve has had to wonder about, ask about, beg to be let into, and he probably figures that one of the best ways he can affect change is if they’re in a romantic relationship. It will let him get close, give him some leverage, etc. So although it might come off as callous, Bucky’s struggles are the rule rather than the exception, and Steve probably figures he needs to get this relationship locked down so that he can get them into therapy and much-needed help.

Of course, there’s plenty of dramatic irony here, right? Steve doesn’t know what we know, which is that what Bucky is struggling with here is the REALLY BIG STUFF. He probably just thinks it’s his usual stuff. So. We’ll see where that goes. Bucky is going to maintain this illusion for as long as he possibly can.

Yes, @pitchforkcentral86 and I had several conversations about whether Bucky should have an animal. It’s a common trope in fic, and a joyful one to read. (Omg, I didn’t know about Alpine until now and I am thrilled!) And yes, service dogs, emotional support animals, therapy animals, pets, they can all be very healing, can provide meaning and purpose, and can also help to structure the lives of people who feel destabilized in various ways.

However, I have held back on giving Bucky an animal because a) his aforementioned history with animals, and b) I’m not sure if that’s what he needs at this point in his journey. I do really think Bucky has some sort of healing that needs to take place around animals. He loves animals. He loves nature and is a true soft boy (TM) who has been deeply hurt by his experiences. It was very inconsistent with his values to do the things he did, see the things he saw, and it’s so painful that he doesn’t know how to reconcile it.

But he’s in such a precarious place now emotionally, with such low resources, and he can barely even share the smallest pieces himself with other humans. People are a lot more complicated, yes, but animals are a lot of responsibility. He would be so hard on himself if he didn’t do a good job, if he didn’t react well to his animal companion, etc. And I think it would probably be more bang for his buck to devote that energy to trying to increasing his emotional intimacy with his partner or his sponsor or other important humans in his life who are asking for his trust. He could GO BACK TO THERAPY EVEN.

I do think something that would potentially be helpful and pretty low resource cost is to have a therapy animal in his life, like something he could go periodically, a therapy dog at the VA or something he could visit and pet once in a while. It would be a good start.

But that’s just my thinking for this character specifically. I think service/emotional support/therapy animals are wonderful and can create incredible bridges for people to improving their quality of life.

Well, that’s all for now! I will continue plugging away at BW and will get it to you as soon as I can. Thank you, as ever, for your patience! And thank you for the wonderful Asks <3 <3 <3

#YOU ASKED I TOLD #send me asks #thank youuuuu #baghdad waltz

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fatechica · 5 years

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dance with me (make me sway) - A 2-Year Celebration

It occurred to me a few weeks ago that I was coming up on my two year anniversary in the Mileven fandom - two years to the day since I posted the first chapter of “love you like a love song” - and, when I realized it, I wanted to commemorate it.

The last two years have been an amazing, wild ride. I’ve become a part of a fandom in ways I never have before, I’ve made friends who I know will be with me the rest of my life, and I’ve been happier than I think I may have ever been before, my life fulfilled and enriched in ways I never imagined.

To say that becoming part of the Stranger Things fandom was one of the best things that I’ve ever done would be the biggest understatement ever. You all make my life better and I’m glad to be part of one of the most wonderful groups of people I��ve ever had the privilege of being part of.

To thank you all for letting me be part of this crazy ride, this is for you. This is to all the people who’ve become my friends over the past couple of years, those who have come and gone, those who are still here, and those who are yet to come.

To that end, there are a relative handful of people I wanted to tag: @formerlyjannafaye @milevens @el-borealis @milesfairchild @dustinhendrsn @stevehharrington @elshopper @elhoppers @martygalwrites @dustinsteves @mikewheeler @summer-in-hawkins @serendipitousrambles @milevenhearteyes @elizabthturner @girls-are-weird @thief-and-dragonfly @maplestreet @lovelysheree

I know I’m missing someone, but you all are people I call amongst my closest friends, people I’m proud to say I know and love. Thank you for making all of this something I could never, ever regret.

To that end, I’ve written something I’ve been wanting to write for a while, something that encapsulates so many of my feelings.

(and, for the gc ladies, i’ve written my mileven dancing fic. you check me off the list, now, and you’re welcome.)

Every day feels like he’s living a dream, one he never wants to wake up from. He knows it’s not a dream, though. It took too much hard work to get here – too much blood and sweat and tears, too much back and forth, coming together before being pulled apart, repeating this what felt like over and over again.

But they’re here now – they made it – and he never has to dream ever again. Because, every day, he wakes up to his dream. Because, every day, he wakes up and goes about his day and comes home to his wife.

Because every day, Mike comes home to El.

It’s not perfect. Nothing is, after all. Both Mike and El are headstrong, passionate individuals and sometimes things get heated, intense in the wrong way. But the love they feel for each other smooths out all those speed bumps and, more often than not, helps them channel their stronger impulses into something positive. It helps them love each other just that much more, helps them love each other each and every day.

There’s nothing special about today except that every day Mike spends with El is special, each one better than the last. Each time, he thinks this is it, I can’t be any more in love with her than I am right now. And every. single. day. he falls just that much more in love with El, falls in love with her all over again.

It’s almost never something big that makes him realize this – the way she smiles at him when he greets her after he gets home, the way she laces her fingers through his as they head up to bed at the end of the evening, the way she laughs and talks and just exists with him.

Tonight, it’s the way she’s standing at the sink while she does the dishes. He cooked tonight, so by the agreement they came to when they moved in together several years ago, it’s her turn to do the dishes.

El’s standing at the sink, weight mostly resting on one leg, hair up in a loose bun with wisps falling to frame her face and neck. She’s wearing a loose sweater, neckline slipping down to expose the smooth curve of one shoulder, and a pair of leggings that skim tight to the lines of her legs. One bare foot is firmly planted on the ground, while the other is propped against it, heel resting on her ankle, foot arched almost sensually.

But, the thing that Mike notices most of all as he walks into the kitchen, the last of the dinner dishes in hand, is the way El is swaying to the music that’s playing.

El always has the music playing while she does the dishes and today is no exception. Today’s selection is from the local Oldies radio station, airwaves filling the kitchen with the sounds of Big Band and jazz and the Rat Pack.

The rich sounds of Frank Sinatra are starting to fade out, Mike recognizing the final notes of “Fly Me To The Moon”, as he sets the last couple plates on the counter next to El. Her proximity calls to him with its sweet, siren’s song and Mike’s barely able to set the dishes down before his arms are reaching for her, sliding around her waist as he pulls her to him, body molding to hers. He buries his face against her neck and breathes in the sweet scent of her. The feel of her skin against his is the one of the greatest rushes known to man and he’s like a drug addict, forever chasing the high that he can only get from her.

El leans back against him, back curving to mirror the lean of his body. “Hi,” she breathes just loud enough to be heard over the running water.

The feel of El in his arms is the cure for pretty much everything, even if nothing is wrong, and Mike finds himself burrowing deeper into her, holding her tight. He never wants to let her go. “Hi,” he murmurs against El’s neck, head rotating so he can press a lingering kiss on the skin right beneath her jaw.

El shivers at the press of his lips and Mike tries to hold back the grin that threatens to creep onto his face. She’s so responsive – always has been – and it makes him a little eager, impatient, to eventually move upstairs to their bedroom. All things in due time, he thinks as El breathes in deeply. “I’m trying to do the dishes,” she says in weak admonishment.

“I can see that,” Mike says, losing the battle against keeping the grin off his face. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

El’s breath leaves her in a huffed sigh. “You’re gonna, anyway,” she mumbles.

That pulls a laugh from him, low and husky, and Mike starts to sway with the music that surrounds them, emanating from the old radio perched on the windowsill above the sink. “You know me too well,” Mike says, still barely above a murmur.

“Well, it’s only been 11 years,” El says with a barely contained snort.

“Hmm, good point,” Mike says as he nuzzles into her neck, breathing her in deep, lungs filling with the lingering scent of her perfume, mixing potently with the remaining hints of her shampoo and something that is just so fundamentally El, soft and addicting. He’s been trying for years to figure out what it is and he knows he’s going to spend the rest of his life trying to crack that particular mystery (it doesn’t matter if he succeeds – not at all. All that matters is that she’s here for him to try and solve it.).

The song on the radio changes, starting with a simple piano intro, and Mike’s heart skips a beat as he recognizes the song. His arms untangle from around El’s waist, hands sliding to her hips to pull her away from the sink, soft need filling every inch of him.

El lets him pull her away from the sink, but not without a soft whine in the process. “Mike, the dishes.”

“They’re not going anywhere,” Mike rasps, a chuckle in his voice. “Dance with me.”

El sighs, but he knows he has her as she takes his hand, the other sliding up to curve over his shoulder. “Mike,” she admonishes, but it lacks true strength. This isn’t the first time Mike’s done this and it certainly won’t be the last.

El’s hand in his is warm and wet from the water still trickling into the sink, a little slippery from the dish soap, but Mike thinks it’s perfect as Elvis’ voice begins to croon from the radio. “Wise men say only fools rush in, but I can’t help falling in love with you….”

The look in El’s eyes is warm and rich, amber-flecked irises darting back and forth as her gaze dances across his face. Her cheeks are gently flushed, suffusing the light tan of her skin with the prettiest pink Mike’s ever seen, and her perfect, richly full lips are curved in an enticing smile. God, Mike doesn’t know how he got so lucky. He wonders this every day and he’s never been able to figure it out. The only thing he can chalk it up to is the only streak of luck he’s ever had in his entire life.

(he doesn’t know this, not really, but it’s not luck. el knows it’s because he was the first person who never judged her, the first person who gave her a home and a name and a place to belong, the only person who’s ever really understood her. it’s a gift she can never, ever repay and she will spend the rest of her life making sure he knows how much she loves him for the simple, yet overwhelming kindness he’s given her.)

But, for the moment, there’s just them, the warm light of their kitchen, and the dulcet, crooning tones of Elvis’ “Can’t Help Falling In Love With You” as they sway back and forth in the middle of their kitchen. El’s warm in his arms, smiling up at him like he’s all she’ll ever need, and Mike’s heart resumes its daily attempt to beat its way out of his chest. The feel of her in his arms is everything, more than he could have ever imagined, more than he ever could have hoped for, and he will forever be grateful to have her in his life, to have her with him.

“Take my hand, take my whole life too,” comes the voice from the radio and Mike can’t help but be hyper aware of El’s hand in his, the smooth metal of her wedding band digging into where their fingers are interlaced, a poignant reminder of the promise they made to each other, ‘til death do they part, as long as they both shall live – the way it’s been since he first found her in the rain, even if he didn’t know it at the time.

He’s leaning towards her before he’s even fully aware that he’s doing it, drawn to her like a moth to a flame, unable to care that he’s permanently and irreversibly caught in her gravity well with no exit velocity. But it’s ok because El’s leaning up towards him, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss that sets his whole soul aflame. Her lips are soft against his, soft and lush and full, like heaven against his. Her kiss is the only one Mike’s ever known and he never wants to know any other for the rest of his life.

The sound of El’s whimpering gasp as he kisses her sends a warm shiver down his spine, heat pooling low in his belly, and Mike kisses El that much harder, the eternal love and desire he feels for her needing an outlet, one his mouth is more than eager to provide. She kisses him back, lips soft yet firm against his, and Mike’s soul just soars. Every time he kisses her is a little like the first time, pulse racing and skin thrumming, and Mike realizes, as he has every day of his life, that El is the only person for him, the only one he wants for as long as he lives.

And he’ll never, ever regret it.

They stand there, kissing in the kitchen as they sway to the radio, bodies pressed against each other like they were meant to fit together. Soon, El will shut off the water and take both of Mike’s hands in hers before guiding him towards the stairs, dishes forgotten as they get swept up in each other.

But, right now, there’s just them, the gentle music that surrounds them, and the overwhelming love they share for each other.

For the moment, in this endless moment full of nothing but the love they share for each other, it’s enough.

And it always, always will be.

#stranger things #mileven #my fic #i love you all #so very very much #this is the smallest token of my affection #i will never feel worthy of being a part of such a wonderful group of people #maybe someday i will be

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starker-stories · 5 years

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An Accord (WIS), Chapter 2

I’m sorry I missed a day re-posting Accord. I really want to get it all back out there so I can continue on with chapter 10-13 when I hit that point. Unfortunately, I’m still sleeping off whatever hit me Monday-Wednesday while I was in the hospital. I’m pretty sure I’m back up to normal now. So let’s start this daily posting thing again.

As a bit of annoyance, I’m going to remind you that @starker-stories is formerly starkerstories, which got accidentally deleted. So if you followed me at the non-hyphenated blog, I hope you’ll make the move with me to the hyphenated one. I miss all’y’all.

I’ll be re-creating my individual chapter posts for An Accord over here on the blog that replaces starkerstories. Until I hit the current chapter, I’ll be posting daily. They’ll have links to both tumblr and AO3 chapter links. I’m sorry if that bothers people who’ve seen this all before in the tag. I’m content to leave all my other fic as AO3 only, but this is my current favorite child, so I’m spoiling it rotten.

This fic is on a weekly update schedule. Hopefully every Friday. More chapters may appear sooner if the writing is going well. Because I have 0 self-control.

Tumblr Chapter Links: ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6, ch7, ch8, ch9, ch10, ch11, ch12, ch13 AO3 Chapter Links: ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6, ch7, ch8, ch9, ch10, ch11, ch12, ch13

Tags: Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Polyamory Negotiations, Polyamory, Cheating, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Domestic Nightmare Tony Stark, Reconciliation, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, WinterIronSpider, Happy Ending, Clothed Sex, Domesticity, Peter Parker is legal age in the state of New York, College Student Peter Parker, Takes place about 2 years after Civil War. Closeted Character

Summary: “Oh. My. God. Old man stereo.” Peter disentangled himself from Tony’s hold. “Feed me.” Bucky started to rise. “Sit down, Bucky. I didn’t say cook. I told him to feed me. Feed US.” ——————————————————————————————

Chapter 2: The pass-code to the penthouse

A movie and a half later, Tony sat on the other end of the sofa from Bucky. “Taken care of. Tomorrow you’ll meet Fury up at HQ.”

“It’ll take more than one day,” Bucky said quietly. “There were a lot of missions.”

Tony nodded.

“I remember all of them, Tony. I’m sorry.”

It was still hard for Tony to reconcile the raw emotion of what happened with the knowledge that the man sitting next to him was not the man in that videotape. “I know, Bucky. I’m getting there, okay?”

“Okay.”

“You’ll head upstate for a few hours a day until it’s finished. Either Fury or Maria Hill will handle the debrief personally. Whatever Ross finds out will be filtered through them, cross-checked by FRIDAY, gone over by me, and then given back to Fury to release.”

“They agreed to that?”

Tony laughed. “Of course not. It’s all going directly from Fury to Ross, with not a single stop in between.”

Bucky was quiet for a long time and they both pretended to watch the movie. “Steve underestimated you.”

“You think?”

They watched the movie until its end. “Didn’t peg you for a rom-com man, Bucky,” Tony said smiling.

“War movies kinda lost their charm.”

“Overly realistic sci-fi ones lost theirs for me,” Tony countered.

“Drama… I live enough of that lately.”

“Ditto action.”

“Romance never gets old,” Bucky said finally.

“God, are you two getting weepy over Tom Hanks movies?” Peter said, laughing and landing in Tony’s lap once he dropped his backpack by the elevator.

“You told me you liked that I’m a romantic,” Tony said, kissing Peter lightly on the lips.

“Yes, but…” Peter picked up the remote, clicked, and brought up the title. “Sleepless in Seattle?”

“Shut up, kid.”

“Oh. My. God. Old man stereo.” Peter disentangled himself from Tony’s hold. “Feed me.” Bucky started to rise. “Sit down, Bucky. I didn’t say cook. I told him to feed me. Feed US.”

“Take out?”

“Take me… us… out.”

“Your house is full of food, Tony,” Bucky said. “Take your boyfriend out to dinner, I’ll be fine.”

“I said, feed US,” Peter hollered back from the bedroom.

“Thai?” Tony suggested.

“Thai.” Peter agreed, coming back, tugging on a fresh shirt.

“Chinese?” Bucky countered.

“Thai wasn’t a thing in your day?” Peter asked.

“In Thailand it was. Not in Manhattan.”

Tony laughed. “How long has it been since you were here… that you remember?”

“Uh… Forty-three? I’ve been here since, and I remember, but it wasn’t to sample the cuisine. Back in forty-three, pretty much everyone still called it Siam, even though it had changed already. But by any name, there weren’t any restaurants serving that kind of food. Chinese was the closest.”

“I doubt spending the last year, since Wakanda, on the run with Rogers broadened your horizons.”

“Not really.”

“Thai then,” Peter insisted.

“Yes, but proper Thai. We’re not dragging our new guest to that place you and May like.”

“Fine. Rich people Thai.”

“Yes, Thai. Not Thai by way of American Cantonese and whichever Korean guy they have working the kitchen today.”

Bucky smiled at the couple, arguing as they wandered back and forth from the bedroom to the living room, various bits of clothes flying while they changed.

“There.” Peter said, finally dressed in much the same as he’d started out in.

“Ready?” Tony asked Bucky.

“We can just… go out?” He’d spent all of his time, since he escaped from HYDRA, on the run. The idea of just being able to walk outside the door and go to a restaurant was unbelievable.

“Well, yeah,” Peter said.

“It can be a bit of a zoo once I’m recognized,” Tony admitted. “But that’s why I get driven even though it’s only a few blocks away, and I’ll have security there.”

“Iron Man needs security?” Bucky asked, arching an eyebrow.

“No, Iron Man does not need security,” Tony said sharply. “However Tony Stark, the fifth richest man in the world and New York celebrity needs security. Unless you fancy being mobbed by everyone with a cellphone.”

“Not fun,” Peter said sagely.

Happy was waiting with the Rolls outside Tony’s private elevator in the garage when the three of them arrived.

“Bucky, this is Happy Hogan. Head of Security for Stark Industries, but I also make him be my driver and pilot still. He tolerates it because I’m so loveable. Happy, Bucky Barnes. He’s staying with Peter and I for awhile.”

“Mr. Hogan.”

“Sergeant Barnes.”

“Can we not? It wasn’t him. It was someone else. I’m… getting over it. I appreciate my defense squad, Happy, but save the death glare for Rogers if he ever shows up.”

“Tony’s taking us out to dinner,” Peter said brightly.

“Thai?” Happy asked.

“He’s nothing if not predictable,” Tony said, helping Peter in. “There’s going to be grooves carved into the road from the tower to the Thai restaurant.”

“To match the grooves from the tower to the Italian one you insist on going to every time it’s your choice,” Peter countered.

“Italian?” Bucky asked. “You been to Gargiulo’s?”

“Fuck yes. I haven’t been in years. But it was as close as you get to Napoletano outside of Naples. Sorry kid, you’re overruled. Happy! Change of plan. Coney Island.”

“What‽” Peter screeched. “I will be as old as you two before I eat.”

“Yeah, true. Never mind the car. Make the arrangements, Hap. We’ll meet you on the helipad.”

“What the fuck?” Peter said.

“What the fuck?” Bucky said, just a little bit behind him.

“Oh, pretty and beautiful chime in,” Tony said, teasingly. “You think you’re going to dangle the possibility of me eating like my m… Oh.” Tony gasped and sat heavily down onto the backseat of the car. His eyes closed tightly shut and he began hyperventilating.

“Shit,” Bucky whispered. He backed away until he was up against the wall of the garage, as far away from Tony as he could get. He watched as Peter climbed next to Tony. Once the kid had Tony in his arms, Bucky ran up the garage ramp and kept running.

“Stop him,” Tony gasped out. “Lock the garage down before he gets out.” He flailed for Happy’s arm. “It’s not his fault,” he told Happy. Which was as far as Tony’s bravery would take him. He buried his face against Peter’s chest. “It’s not his fault,” he said quieter.

“I know, Tony. It’s okay. He’s… his twin brother.”

“Yeah.” Tony drew a shaky breath and another and another. Slow and deep. In the safety of Peter’s arms, it was easy to convince himself of that. Twin brother. That made sense. It was a gut level reaction to seeing the same face associated with…

Tony was sitting on the edge of the carseat when Bucky came back down, followed by Happy. “I’m not going to kill you.”

“You couldn’t.”

“Debatable. But I don’t want to kill you. Your dead twin brother on the other hand,” Tony said, trying at a wan smile.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky sat cross-legged on the garage floor in front of the car door’s opening.

“I forgot who you aren’t. It’s… I got caught up in the moment. My… her cousin used to work at the place. She and I ate there a lot the summer between high school and MIT. Howard was setting things up in L.A. that summer. It…” Tony closed his eyes again. “I don’t want to blame you,” he said quietly. “I know it wasn’t you.”

“She was Italian? That wasn’t in the file. Nothing was. A time. A date. A location. A mission. I didn’t know who. Not until after. Until just before Pierce had me wiped again and sent me back to Siberia for storage.” Bucky tried to hide his reaction to his memory of the procedure.

“I’m sorry,” Tony said.

Peter reached out for each of their hands. “Takeout, obviously.” He helped both men to their feet and led them to the elevator. “Chinese or pizza?”

“Chinese,” they both said.

“Fantastic.” Peter leaned his head on Tony’s shoulder and wrapped their arms together. But he kept his hand reached out to hold Bucky’s.

~~~~~

They let Peter pick the movie.

“I thought you didn’t like sci-fi?” Bucky asked.

“To be honest, the whole ‘sitting still pretending to be mentally engaged by a movie’ is new to me,” Tony offered in his defense.

“You told me you loved Star Wars.”

“Yeah. Star Wars.”

“And Star Trek.”

“That’s okay too.”

“That’s sci-fi!” Peter said emphatically.

“Technically, that’s space opera,” Tony countered.

“You don’t have to sit and watch movies with me,” Peter said, sounding actually hurt.

“I like sitting and watching movies with you. I never said I didn’t. I said it was new to me.”

“Watching movies can’t be new to you. He’s older than you and it’s not new to him,” Peter said, nodding towards Bucky.

“Baby, the last movie I sat and watched all the way through, in one sitting, was Star Wars. The summer right before I was sent to boarding school in the fall.”

“Oh.”

“It’s okay. It’s just… new. Sitting still for this long. Not… doing anything.”

“You’re watching a movie.”

“No, baby. You’re watching a movie. I’m watching you.” Tony leaned over and gave Peter a kiss. He was about to deepen it when he remembered they weren’t alone. He chuckled. “Sorry.”

Peter laughed. “I foresee us bumbling around each other saying ‘sorry’ a lot.”

“You haven’t said ‘sorry’ yet, kid,” Bucky grinned.

“Call me kid again and I’ll web your cool metal arm to the floor again.” Peter grinned back. “Then I’ll say sorry for it after.”

~~~~~

“Bucky. Hey, Bucky. It’s all right. You’re safe. You’re in New York. You’re in Stark Tower. Bucky. It’s Peter. Parker. Peter Parker. You’re okay.”

Bucky punched in the direction of the voice. His punch was… caught. His arm made an electromechanical whir. He opened his eyes.

“Hi Bucky,” Peter smiled at him, holding his metal fist in his hand. “You were having a nightmare. No, no. Don’t move yet.” Peter put Bucky’s hand down onto the bed.

“Peter?” Bucky said hoarsely.

“Yeah,” he smiled again.

“You shouldn’t wake me up from a nightmare. I could hurt you.”

“Hi, I’m Spider-Man. You can’t hurt me. You already tried to hurt me and didn’t. But I didn’t wake you up. I know better.”

“You know better?” Bucky asked, stretching his legs out, one at a time, then his right arm, moving his fingers.

“Nightmares. Kinda the pass-code to the penthouse.”

“Tony?” Peter nodded. “You?” Bucky asked, less credulously. Peter nodded again.

“Welcome to the fabulous superhero life.”

“Some of mine were from before the superhero life,” Bucky said quietly.

“Some of Tony’s. Some of mine, too. It doesn’t matter who has them worse, when they’re happening, they’re all worse.”

“You can go back to bed now, kid. Thanks. But Tony’ll be missing you.”

Peter sucked in his lips, but stayed.

“He’s not in bed?”

“When he’s avoiding nightmares, he doesn’t sleep.”

“Wish I could learn that trick,” Bucky said bitterly. He saw Peter’s expression. “No, I guess I don’t.”

“It could be three days or more before he sleeps. However long it takes his body to pass out this time around. I’ll be there when he needs me.”

“Who’s there for you, kid?”

“Tony is. When I wake up crushed by tons of concrete or seeing my uncle get murdered or clinging onto the skin of an airplane as it falls from the sky or…”

“Price of admission to the Stark Tower penthouse suite,” Bucky said, “one lifetime of nightmares.”

“Basically,” Peter said, nodding. “You okay? Tony doesn’t like being alone after. You used to have Steve…”

Bucky sighed. “Not exactly. Our relationship was…”

“Complicated?”

He chuckled. “That’s one way to put it. The thing you and Tony have? We grew up in a different time.”

“I thought you two were together?”

“We were. But not like you and Tony. It was more… casual.”

Peter furrowed his brow. “You don’t sound casual.”

“It was all it could be. We were looking for different things. The thing I wanted… it wasn’t possible back then. Then other things became a habit… then it was hard to fall out of those habits…”

“Tony had those habits. He told me what it was like. I can’t imagine it. Not really. To know you want one thing, but lie and hide and pretend to want something else. I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

“Fear’s where you begin, Peter,” Bucky said. He rolled onto his side and balled up the pillow under his head. “I’m glad you don’t know where to begin.”

“Tony learned to get over it.”

“He had you to make him want to get over it. A cute boyfriend’s a pretty strong motivator.”

Peter giggled and blushed. “You’re a cute boyfriend, why didn’t Steve get over it?”

“I wasn’t even sure what we were. What we could be. What I even wanted us to be anymore. I had him before the war, I lost him after I shipped out. Then I had him again for awhile during the war and lost him again. Then I had him after HYDRA. But this third time? I think ‘lost’ has finally won. Whatever we might’ve had…” Bucky shook his head. “The Steve I knew, either before or during the war, wouldn’t have made the decision he has. Whoever he’s become, he isn’t my Steve anymore.”

They fell into silence. “Go to bed, Peter. You have class and I have the first of my debriefs with Fury. Trade ya,” he said, smiling.

“Not for all the money in Tony Stark’s bank account.” Peter leaned over and gave Bucky a quick kiss on his temple. “Good night.”

~~~~~

“He had a nightmare,” Peter said, sleepily settling on a stool next to Tony’s workstation.

“Hmm.”

“He and Rogers weren’t… together together.”

“That’s good.”

“The Chitauri are attacking again.”

“Uh huh.”

“TONY!”

“What?” Tony spun on his chair to face Peter.

“Good night, FRIDAY.”

“Good night, Peter. Good night, boss.” FRIDAY powered down the holotables and the screens.

“I thought I told you not to fuck with FRIDAY’s protocols anymore.”

Peter laughed and took Tony’s hands. “Build tighter access to prevent a hardware intercept.”

“No one else but you has access to FRIDAY’s hardware.”

“Then don’t complain about me adding a ‘good night’ protocol to her.” He pulled on Tony’s hands until he was standing and following him.

“I don’t have to follow you upstairs, you know.”

“Yeah you kinda do if you want to keep your hands attached to the rest of you.”

“God, I hate you, Peter Parker.”

“Ya love me and ya know it.”

“He had a nightmare?” Tony asked, having heard the whole thing.

“Uh huh. A bad one. Don’t worry. I was there when he woke up.”

“I do love you, you know.” Tony let Peter finish leading him to their bedroom door. “I’m glad you were able to help him,” he said. “I know it’s not his fault. It doesn’t… make it hurt any less.” he added, quieter.

“It hurts him too.”

“I know. That’s why I’m glad you helped him.” Tony kissed Peter lightly before closing the door behind them and letting him finish taking him to bed.

#starker #winterironspider #WIS An Accord #Von writes stuff

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justatiredpotato · 4 years

Text

Set Me Free | Chapter 5

Chapter List

Pairing: hybrid!Yoongi x human!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, coffee shop AU, hybrid AU

Word Count: Chapter: 6,000~ Total: 40,000~

Updates daily at 10pm MST

Warnings: anxiety, panic attacks, violence (kinda?), mentions of abuse

Author’s Note: In this fic the reader’s name is Yeoji

The next weekend you took Yoongi out to get a tag. Jungkook and Jimin took care of the cafe for the day, so you had the afternoon to take care of your errands. After extensive googling you found a shop on the other side of town that had a variety of choices, so that was your first stop.

The store had lots of hybrid supplies, and after browsing around for a bit you found the tags. Most were obviously made for collars, but a small display on the bottom shelf held the new earring-style. Yoongi looked through them for several minutes before holding up one for you to consider. It was a simple metal hoop with a pendant spike that held the tag.

The tag itself was just a small microchip that held all the ID information. You’d received Yoongi’s in the mail that morning. For several years the tags were actually used like pet microchips, placed under the skin. Thankfully that was deemed inhumane a decade ago, so tags were made wearable instead. The earring design made the little device far less noticeable, though some people still force hybrids to wear a collar. You thought it must be rather degrading, but Jimin liked to wear his on a choker.

Yoongi held the earring he’d selected up in the mirror and nodded approvingly. “This’ll work.”

“I like it!” you agreed. “It’s pretty.”

His face visibly reddened and you regretted your choice of words. You were about to correct yourself when you caught a trace of a smile as he turned toward the register. You followed him and purchased the earring. In the car, he used the mirror on the visor to replace his old earring with the new one. He tilted his head to assess the piece, then turned to show you.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t realize it’s a tag if I didn’t already know,” you said.

He shrugged, turning back to the mirror and nodding. “Yeah, it’s not bad.”

On your way home you stopped at the store to buy soju and restock on a few snacks that Yoongi had gone through rather quickly. Saturday was your usual movie night with your family. You’d skipped it the previous week, not sure if Yoongi was ready for a big social gathering yet. But the boys really wanted to have a welcome party for him. Jungkook in particular seemed excited, saying he had a surprise. Him and Yoongi bonded quickly over the previous two weeks, Jungkook even came over a few times after his classes so they could play music together.

That night was going to be the first time all of your boys were together since Yoongi came to stay with you. Despite your nerves, you knew they would make him feel at home. Yoongi was quiet on the drive home, but you could tell he was nervous. His leg bounced rapidly, hands clasped in his lap.

“You’ll like them,” you said abruptly. You reached over and took his hand. “And they’ll like you. I promised I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you, remember? This is my family, and that means they’re your family now too.” He nodded, meeting your eyes for a moment before turning to look out the window.

By the time you got back to your place you had about an hour before the boys arrived. Jimin and Jungkook were coming straight back after they closed the cafe. You tidied up and pulled out the take-out menus, then grabbed a couple of extra blankets for the couch and loveseat; Jimin and Jungkook liked to be warm. Yoongi puttered around after you, helping clean up and remaining more or less glued to your side until seven’o’clock rolled around.

A knock came at the door between the apartment and the cafe, and you hollered for them to come in. Two bunny ears peaked inside. The owner of said ears quickly followed as the smaller boy behind him pushed him through the door. Jungkook waved at Yoongi, who stood slightly behind you. Jimin smiled brightly. You flashed him a look; a reminder to keep it chill. He nodded understandingly and approached to pull you into a hug.

“How was your day, noona?” he asked, nuzzling into your jaw.

He pulled away and you ruffled his hair. “Good! How was the cafe today?” You glanced behind him to Jungkook. “I hope it wasn’t too crazy.”

Jungkook shook his head. “Nah. It was busy, but nothing we couldn’t handle,” he said, placing an arm around Jimin’s shoulders. “Did you have a good time shopping, hyung?”

Yoongi glanced up at him and subconsciously fidgeted with the new earring. “Yeah, we found a tag that looks alright. So that’s good,” he finished awkwardly. He seemed so nervous, even with the addition of just one new person. You hoped it wasn’t too soon to be bringing everyone around. You didn’t have much time to worry as the doorbell rang. Yoongi trailed behind you as you went to answer it.

The rest of the guys stood on the step, holding what you assumed to be food.

“Jin-hyung and I grabbed takeout on the way,” Hoseok said, gesturing with two large bags with the logo of your favorite Thai restaurant on them. Jin held up a box containing even more takeout containers.

“You’re the best, Hobi! I’m starving.” You took one of the bags from him and stepped aside to let him in.

“He’s the best? What about me?” Jin asked, indignant.

“You’re alright,” you said. He pouted and you wrapped an arm around him, grinning.

Namjoon and Tae followed you inside. Tae went to the table to set down a box before hurrying back to you. He wrapped you in a tight hug, even his tail curling around you to keep you close.

“I missed you, noona!” he said, nose buried in your hair.

You laughed and hugged him back. “I missed you too, Taetae.” You hadn’t seen him since the night you found Yoongi. The tiger hybrid made a rumbling cough-like noise in his chest, which you knew meant he was happy.

After a moment, you turned to see Yoongi hovering awkwardly next to the kitchen island watching the whole exchange with his hands folded in front of him. Upon seeing everyone looking back at him, he quickly looked down to the floor and bowed politely.

“Welcome,” he said, directing his words toward the three human men standing around the kitchen. “Can I get you anything?” His voice was soft and polite, words oddly hollow. You hurried over to him, startled by the sudden shift in behavior. You wrapped an arm around his slight waist and waited for him to meet your eyes. He looked at you for a moment before seeming to come back to himself. He shuffled his feet, nervously and looked up at the guys again.

“Thanks, Yoongi, but don’t worry about us. We can grab stuff if we need it,” Jin assured him, heading to the fridge to grab a beer to illustrate his point.

“Yeah, hyung. We basically live here,” Joon added, ruffling your hair before walking over and plopping down on the couch.

Hoseok threw Yoongi a sunshine-smile. “So, Yeoji-noona tells me you’re a musician? She said you’re incredibly talented.” You shifted awkwardly, but didn’t remove your arm from around Yoongi just yet.

“Yeah!” Jungkook said. The bunny bounded over, childlike excitement in his eyes as he scanned the room. His eyes landed on the kitchen table and he took Yoongi’s hand to pull him that way. “I’ve got something to show you, hyung!”

Yoongi followed, ears twitching curiously as he eyed the box on the table. Jimin came to join them, sitting cross-legged on a dining chair. Everyone else observed quietly, curious, but not wanting to crowd Yoongi.

“I’ve been wanting to give you this, and hyung said it’d be a nice welcome present!” Jungkook said, gesturing for the older boy to open the package.

“Present? This is for me?” Yoongi asked. He glanced at you, as if looking for permission. You smiled and gave the tiniest nod of reassurance. Yoongi pulled open the box and slid out a canvas bag. He glanced up at Jungkook one more time before unzipping it. Inside was an electric keyboard. You saw Yoongi’s jaw clench and he continued to stare blankly at the instrument. Jungkook shifted from foot to foot.

“I know it’s not brand new or anything, but Joonie-hyung got me a new one for my last birthday and he said I could sell the other one if I wanted. I thought maybe you’d like to use it. At least until you get a new one. If you don’t want it I can take it back…” the boy rambled nervously.

Yoongi looked up sharply at those last words. “I- I can keep this?” he asked.

Jungkook’s eyebrows rose. “Yeah. It’s a gift. You’re really talented, hyung. It’d be a shame if you were stuck without a keyboard.”

Yoongi looked from Jungkook, to the keyboard, then back again. Then he surprised you all by pulling the younger boy into a hug. Jungkook stiffened at first, clearly surprised. But then he returned the hug, a bunny smile creeping onto his face.

“Thank you, Kookie. Seriously,” Yoongi said quietly. “You really didn’t have to do this.”

Namjoon appeared beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You blinked rapidly when you met his eyes; when had they started watering? Namjoon simply smiled before returning his attention to the men at the table. Jungkook spent a few minutes showing Yoongi some of the keyboard’s features while the rest of you set up the food on the coffee table in the living room. As much as you hated to interrupt, you had to call them away before the food got cold. Yoongi scanned the food on the table.

“I’ve never tried any of this stuff before,” he said.

“You’ve never had Thai food?” Taehyung asked, horrified. Yoongi shook his head.

You filled a plate with things you thought he’d like and passed it to him. His eyes widened as he took in the precarious tower of food. You might’ve gotten a little too enthusiastic with your servings.

“Jeez, noona. Leave some for the rest of us!” Namjoon teased. The other boys snorted, but you ignored them.

“Try these. If there’s anything you don’t like you can give it to me,” you said. Yoongi cleared his plate in record time, even getting seconds upon your encouragement. His lack of pickiness when it came to food continued to impress you. After you cleared the plates away you settled into your favorite spot on the couch with Yoongi on one side with his arm around your shoulder, and Jungkook on the other. Jungkook laid his head on your lap so you could pet his ears. You smiled as Yoongi took your free hand and laced your fingers together, resting his cheek on your head.

A contented sigh escaped you and you looked over your mismatched little family, catching Namjoon and Jimin exchanging a look. Jimin turned to you and you raised an eyebrow at him questioningly, but he just smirked. You frowned, looking to Namjoon instead. He chuckled and turned his attention back to the movie. Jungkook had selected some b-movie he read about online. It featured mostly bad special effects, bad acting, and cheap jumpscares, but he seemed to be enjoying himself.

You could feel Yoongi already dozing, his breathing deep and even against your hair. How he could sleep through the loud musical stings that seemed to happen every twenty seconds you couldn’t fathom. Despite the poor production quality, you got pretty into the movie. Your attention was split between trying to keep up with the convoluted plot, petting Jungkook, and drawing soft patterns on the back of Yoongi’s hand.

When the film ended you shifted, giving Yoongi’s hand a gentle squeeze to wake him up. He blinked at you, looking around as you sat up and started clearing glasses and drink cans away. He stretched before moving to help you.

“Why don’t you sit and chat with the guys for a bit?” you suggested.

“I’ll help you, noona,” Jungkook said. He, Jin, and Namjoon helped you clean up while the other boys visited.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Yoongi fidgeted nervously in his seat, uneasy without you next to him. Jimin sensed the discomfort and moved to sit next to him. Tae turned to face the other boys from his spot on the floor.

“So, how’s it been? Staying with Yeoji-noona, I mean,” Tae asked.

“Good. She’s really good to me. I owe her a lot,” Yoongi said.

“From what I hear she doesn’t feel you owe her anything. I think the last few weeks she’s been the happiest I’ve seen her in a long time,” Hoseok said. Yoongi blushed, but failed to hide his smile at the statement.

“It’s definitely the happiest I’ve ever been,” Yoongi said quietly.

“Well we’ve been dying to meet you,” Taehyung interjected. “Jimin won’t shut up about you.”

Jimin’s tail flicked. “It’s just been so long since I’ve had another kitty around.” Yoongi finched, tail wrapping protectively around his waist. Jimin continued, not noticing. “I mean, Tae is a cat. But you can’t exactly call a tiger a kitty. I miss purrs and snuggles from my other kitty friends. Tae doesn’t really purr. He makes this funny coughing sound instead.”

“It’s called ‘chuffing’ thank you very much,” Tae protested. Jimin’s tinkling laugh filled the room as the two bickered good-naturedly, but Yoongi’s mind was far away. A voice echoed through his mind, but not from anyone in the room. The man’s voice came from memories he’d pushed away and tried to forget. He curled in on himself, ears flattening as he tried to push the images of his past away.

The tone of the guys’ conversation shifted and he thought someone might be calling to him but their words sounded like he was hearing them through glass.

“Hey, hyung.” A hand came to rest on his shoulder and his body reacted before his mind could. He lashed out with a fist, and flinched away from the person’s touch, toppling off the couch in the process. A yelp of pain and surprise cleared a bit of the fog from his mind and he glanced at the faces surrounding him, pupils blown wide as adrenaline coursed through him. Rather than being comforted by the reality in that moment, he only felt dread in the pit of his stomach.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

You were laughing with Jungkook and Jin when you heard Namjoon’s shout of surprise. You whirled to see the boys suddenly quiet, startled expressions on their faces. You hurried into the living room just in time to see Yoongi getting off the ground and darting away into your bedroom.

“What happened?” you asked, turning to Namjoon for an answer. He held a hand to his cheek, the skin already bruising beneath it.

“I’m not sure. I came to check on them and Yoongi-hyung seemed… off. I must’ve scared him because he freaked out and hit me,” he said.

“We were just talking and then he got really quiet all of the sudden. Then when Joon-hyung touched him he just-” Taehyung trailed off with a shrug.

“Is he okay?” Jimin asked. He looked up at you with wide, concerned eyes.

“I’m sure he’s okay, Chim. I’m gonna go take care of him,” you ruffled the boy's hair. “Jin, can you get Joon some ice?”

Jin nodded and led the younger man back to the kitchen while you hurried after Yoongi. You pushed open the door gently. He hadn’t even bothered to turn the lights on.

“Yoongi?” you called softly. You scanned the room, but didn’t see him. “Sweetheart where are you? What happened?”

Your eyes fell on the door of your closet, which was slightly ajar. A sliver of sock-clad toe poked out. You approached quietly, not exactly sure what was going on, and opened the door. Yoongi sat on the floor, half buried in a pile of sweaters you hadn’t bothered to hang up after wearing them once.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. You crouched in front of him, leaning close to hear better. He flinched away as you drew closer and your heart broke.

“What?” you asked.

“Please…” he whimpered.

“Sweetheart, I don’t understand. What happened? Please what?”

“I messed up. I was bad. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please don’t make me leave. Please,” he repeated over and over like a mantra. His ears were flat against his head. His whole body trembled.

“Oh, Yoongi,” you cooed, reaching out for him. He shrank away again, but you didn’t give up. “Yoon, it’s me. Please, can you come out?” He finally met your eyes, scanning your face for anger before carefully crawling out of his hiding place. When he finally accepted your outstretched hand you didn’t hesitate to pull him into your arms.

“I’m so sorry, noona. I’m so sorry. I was bad. I know I’m in trouble but please don’t get rid of me.”

“Sweetheart, I would never get rid of you.” You pulled him close, nuzzling into his hair as he tucked his face into your neck. “This is your home. And you aren’t in trouble. No one is mad at you.”

You sat quietly for a moment, just stroking his hair as he took deep shaking breaths, struggling to slow his breathing. When he seemed to have calmed down a bit you spoke again.

“Do you think you can tell me what happened?” you asked gently.

“T-that name. It just made me think of my old master,” he said the last word with venom in his voice. “Kitty, that’s what he called me and- and I just felt like I was there again. Back with him, at the club. And I- I couldn’t- It-” the panic seemed to be returning and you held him tighter, shushing him, trying to shield him from the rush of painful memories before they could overwhelm him again.

“Hey, hey. Slow down. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. You’re here, with me. I’ve got you.”

He nodded against your shoulder, clinging to you as if you were the only thing keeping him from drowning.

“Let’s get you off the floor, yeah?” you said, coaxing him to his feet and guiding him over to the bed. You tucked him in, pulling an extra blanket up from the foot to tuck around his shoulders and placing a soft kiss in his hair.

“I probably should go check on the boys,” you said, glancing toward the living room. You could hear them murmuring, discussing quietly.

“Wait.” He looked anxious at the prospect of you leaving his side. “Can’t you...” He couldn’t seem to get out what he wanted to ask.

“Okay,” you said. The idea of being away for him at that moment tore at your heart more than you’d admit. You crawled under the covers and snuggled up to him. He tucked his face into your neck; that seemed to be his favorite spot. What you weren’t aware of was that your scent was such a comfort to him, it was the only thing that could push the shadows from his mind in moments like this. You slipped your phone out of your back pocket.

You put your phone on its charger and wrapped your arm around Yoongi again.

“Are they mad?” he asked suddenly.

“What? No, of course not.”

You felt him sigh, breath warm against your collarbone. “What are you going to do?”

“What do you mean?”

He pulled away from you to look you in the eye. “I know I’m in trouble. You have to punish me. I hurt your brother. And I could hear Jimin. I made him cry. So what are you going to do?” He averted his eyes, clearly expecting you to hurt him somehow.

You placed a gentle hand on his cheek to make him look at you. “Yoongi, you are not in trouble. Namjoon is not mad at you. He understands, in fact he was actually worried about you. And Jimin was only crying because he hurt you. He didn’t mean to say something that would upset you. He understands what it’s like to have things you’d rather forget,” you said sadly.

“Is-Is he still here?” Yoongi asked.

“I think so.”

“Could I-? I’d like to apologize,” he said. “To him and Namjoon.”

Your eyebrows shot up as you studied him. “Are you sure? You could talk to him after your shift tomorrow. You don’t have to do this now.”

“I don’t want them to worry.”

You scanned his face, but he seemed certain. You sat up, tucking a blanket tighter around his shoulders before calling, “Jimin, Joonie, can you come here for a second?”

Yoongi fidgeted with his fingers beside you, and you reached over and wrapped his hand in yours. There was quiet shuffling outside your door before a shock of pink hair and white ears appeared through the door.

“Hyung?” Jimin’s voice was even softer than usual, barely audible to your ears. He slipped through the door, Namjoon following cautiously behind him.

Yoongi cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, guys. I’m so sorry I hit you Namjoon. That was bad of me-”

Namjoon stopped him. “You have nothing to apologize for, hyung. It’s not your fault that other people hurt you. I’m sorry I scared you, even accidentally.”

Yoongi nodded his gratitude, thinking for a moment before turning to Jimin.

“And Jimin, I’m sorry I reacted like that. I didn’t mean to upset you...” He stopped short when he realized there were tears streaming down the younger man’s face. “Oh s***. Did I make it worse?” Yoongi said. He turned to you confused and concerned.

“No, hyung. I’m just so sorry. I-” Jimin sniffled and wiped at his face with his sleeves. “Can I hug you?”

Yoongi looked startled, but he nodded. Jimin practically ran over and sat next to Yoongi, hugging him tightly and burying his face in his chest. After a moment’s hesitation, Yoongi wrapped his arms around him. There was a beat of silence before a soft, melodic purr started to fill the quiet.

“I know what it’s like to have… bad things happen. And I’m so sorry I made you remember.” Jimin’s grip on the back of Yoongi’s sweater tightened. “If you need to talk about it, you can talk to me, hyung. Anytime.”

Yoongi nodded again, a purr started to echo from his chest as well as he tried to keep himself together.

Namjoon and Jimin left a few minutes later, and Yoongi settled back in with you. He fell asleep quickly after all the guys left. You snuck away as quietly as you could to wash your face and change into pajamas, but found yourself rushing to return to his side.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Over the following months you tried to get Yoongi out of the house more. As the winter warmed into spring he went and performed in the plaza some days. One particularly sunny afternoon you had to go see your supplier since there was an issue with your latest order.

The two of you strolled casually down the street toward the restaurant supply company, window shopping as you went since your appointment wasn’t for another twenty minutes. Yoongi pointed out a couple of items in shop windows, and you filed away his preferences for later. He finished paying you back for the things you bought him a few weeks before, so you looked for any and every opportunity to spoil him. Not because you thought he needed it, but any time you were responsible for that gummy smile blossoming on his face it warmed your heart like nothing else.

You passed a shop on the corner a block from your destination and paused when you noticed him lingering by the window.

“Yoon? What are you looking at?” You turned and joined him at the window. It turned out to be a salon, not a shop. You looked Yoongi over. His hair had grown since he’d come to stay with you, to the point that he tied it up with one of your hair-ties when he was working on something.

“Do you want to get your hair cut?” you asked.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. I should, huh? I actually like this.” He pointed at a poster in the window. The man in the picture had kind of a mullet going on. You couldn’t tell what color it was since the picture was black and white, but it was clearly a lighter color.

“This one?” You pointed at the picture, confirming. The cut wasn’t really your style. But if Yoongi liked it, that didn’t matter. He’d be adorable in any style. “Yeah,” you said encouragingly. “I think your hair is long enough.”

“What? No, I meant the color. I’d be cool to have lighter hair.”

“You wanna dye it?” you asked, surprised. You hadn’t expected him to be interested in something like that.

He nodded. “Do you think it’d look weird?” He suddenly seemed unsure, turning slightly away from the window, ears turning down slightly.

“No! I think you’d look cute in any color!” In your haste to reassure him you entirely missed the pretty blush that appeared on his cheeks. “You should try it,” you said.

He looked back up at the picture, contemplating. “Would that be okay?”

“Of course, sweetheart. It’s your hair.” You laughed and ruffled his soft black locks with your fingers. “Do you want to do it today? If they have an appointment you can do it while I go to my meeting.”

His tail swished behind him, ears perked forward. “Really?”

“Of course! Let’s see if they have any openings.”

You entered the salon, the bell chiming cheerfully above you. “Welcome to Worldwide Handsome Salon! How can I make your day more beautiful?” the girl at the reception desk greeted you. You turned to Yoongi, waiting for him to speak.

“I’d like to have my hair cut and colored,” he said quietly.

The girl glanced from him to you. “Of course, we happen to have an opening in 15 minutes if you were looking to have it done today.”

Yoongi nodded.

“Great!” the girl chirped. “I’ll go grab one of our stylists for a consult.” She hurried off to do so. You and Yoongi took a seat in the waiting area.

“That works out perfectly! I’ll come pick you up after my meeting. Is that okay?” You didn’t say what you were actually asking, though you knew he understood what you meant. ‘Will you be okay without me?’

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Good.” You took his hand, bouncing it happily on your lap. “I can’t wait to see what you do!”

The stylist emerged from between the rows of chairs and counters, greeting you with a big smile. He wasn’t very tall, but he still managed to be imposing. The lean muscle in his arms stretched the sleeves of his t-shirt, and he carried himself with more confidence and power than you would’ve expected from him. His hair was a shockingly pure platinum, and he pushed it back from his face as he approached to greet you.

“Hey! I’m Jackson.” He reached out to shake your hand, shaking Yoongi’s as well.

“He’s our best hybrid stylist,” the girl chimed in from beside him.

“I thought I was the best period, Irene,” Jackson teased. The receptionist, Irene, giggled and turned away.

“That too.” She bowed to you and Yoongi. “Let me know if you need anything else.” She returned to her place behind the front desk.

“I assume we’re doing something for you today?” He inclined his head toward Yoongi with a small smile. “Alright, what are we thinking?” He directed the question at you. You frowned at him before turning to Yoongi, again waiting for him to speak up.

“I want it cut and colored,” he said.

Again, Jackson glanced at you expectantly. “Do you know what style you want exactly?” he asked politely.

“Don’t ask me, it’s his hair,” you said, getting a little irritated. Yoongi, sensing this, took your hand and leaned closer to you, tail wrapping soothingly around your leg.

Jackson’s eyebrows rose, apparently surprised. “Sorry. You have to excuse me. Most people who bring their hybrids in don’t give a damn what they want.” He smiled awkwardly. “Alright man, what are we doing today?” He addressed Yoongi this time, giving him a genuine smile and seeming almost relieved.

“I was thinki-”

“Wait!” You interrupted him, pulling your hand free so you could cover your ears. Both men looked at you, startled. “I want it to be a surprise.”

Yoongi grinned and nodded, happily agreeing to your plan.

“Text me when you’re finished, and I’ll come pick you up. You have your phone and your card?” Yoongi nodded. You got him a debit card once he started earning wages at the shop so he wouldn’t have to carry everything in cash. The account was technically under your name, since hybrids couldn’t have their own, but shopping was a lot easier for him with a debit card.

“Alright, call me if you need me.” You leaned up and pecked him on the cheek. “Have fun!” you called as you left the salon.

Jackon observed how Yoongi watched you leave, brows raised.

“What?” Yoongi asked when he caught the other man’s expression.

“Nothing,” Jackson said casually. He smiled and glanced after you. “It’s just nice to see. You guys seem happy together.”

Yoongi colored, but couldn’t hide the grin that appeared on his face.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

After your meeting, you went to the coffee shop next to the Worldwide Handsome Salon. You tried to busy yourself reading over the documents your supplier had given you, but it was hard to focus when you could hardly wait to see what Yoongi had done. You hopped out of your chair a little too energetically when he finally texted, drawing an irritated look from fellow patrons you’d startled. You bowed apologetically, dropped your dirty dishes in the bus bin, and hurried next door.

Irene greeted you when you entered. “Hi! They’re just finishing up. I’ll let them know you’re here.” She got up and disappeared into the maze of mirrors and counters. A moment later she returned, Jackson in tow. He flashed you a proud grin.

“You know, I think this might be some of my best work.”

Irene nudged him with her elbow and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, it has nothing to do with him being handsome to start with.”

Jackson waved Yoongi over and he peeked out from behind a mirror. Your eyes widened as you took in his slightly curly honey-blond hair. Yoongi measured your reaction, black ears twitching nervously as he stood before you.

“What?” he asked when you didn’t say anything. “Do you not like it?”

You broke into a smile and finally couldn’t hold back a delighted squeal.

“Oh my god I love it!” You stepped closer to him. “Can I?” You made grabby hands at him and he leaned his head down so you could reach better. Somehow, the light color and soft waves made his hair look even softer. Upon feeling it you found it was, in fact, extremely soft.

“Agh!” You made an exasperated sound, overwhelmed with affection for the soft boy before you. “You look so cute!” you cooed.

Yoongi pouted a little. “Jackson and Irene said I look handsome,” he protested.

“And handsome.” You nodded in agreement, scratching the base of his ears. He purred and leaned into your hand. “My handsome honey boy.”

Yoongi’s eyes opened quickly and you wondered if he disliked the nickname. But his gummy smile quickly reassured you before he wrapped you in a hug, burying his face in your neck. His purrs rumbled through his chest and into yours, tail swishing happily behind him. You chuckled, continuing to stroke his hair.

“It looks great,” you said, placing a soft kiss in his hair. You glanced up at Jackson and Irene. She was watching the exchange with her head resting on Jackson’s shoulder, starry-eyed. You blinked, coming back to yourself and stepping away from Yoongi.

“Thank you so much for taking good care of him,” you said.

“Anytime,” Jackson answered. “Please come again. We do women’s hair too, you know.”

Jackson took his leave as Irene walked you to the counter to pay. Yoongi swiped his card with a bit of pride, though you winced at the hit his funds were taking. You were happy for him, since you knew independence was important to him. But you still wished he’d let you take care of him a little more.

Irene smiled as she watched the two of you, Yoongi’s free hand firmly clasping yours. “You two are really cute together,” she said. “You don’t see a lot of human-hybrid relationships like yours. It’s refreshing.”

You looked at her dumbly for a second before realizing what she meant. “Oh! We aren’t a couple,” you said. Yoongi flinched beside you and released your hand to put in his pin number. Irene frowned, not convinced.

“What about you and him?” You nodded to the direction where Jackson had gone.

Irene blushed and stammered, effectively redirecting the conversation. “Jackson? We aren’t, like, official or anything. Just coworkers. And friends. He’s technically my boss, too.” She laughed awkwardly, busying herself getting Yoongi’s receipt. You let the subject drop, heart beating oddly fast. Were you seriously that worked up by the suggestion of you and Yoongi being together.

You glanced over at him. The muscles in his jaw were tight as he focused determinedly on reading the ingredients of a shampoo bottle he had picked up. You hoped the statement hadn’t made him too uncomfortable. One of your greatest fears was Yoongi feeling like he owed you that. From what little he’d told you of his background, he wasn’t used to having a choice. You’d never want him to be with you out of some ingrained sense of obligation.

Yoongi interrupted your thoughts when he spoke. “Thank you,” he said again, bowing politely. Then he took his receipt and quickly turned to leave. Irene gave him a sad smile as you hurried after him. What was that about?

“Yoongi, wait up!” you jogged after him. When you caught up you looped your arm through his. You examined his face, but his expression was totally neutral. You tugged on his arm to get his attention. “What should we do for dinner?” He gave a noncommittal grunt. “What do you feel like eating, honey boy?” His stoic expression cracked a little, even as he turned his face to hide it. You laughed triumphantly.

“How about meat? Hanwoo?” you suggested, knowing his weakness all too well.

His eyes sparkled at the mention of the dish, which the two of you reserved as a treat for special occasions. He nodded, finally rewarding you with a small smile. You tugged on his arm playfully and dragged him toward the alley housing your favorite barbeque restaurant, happy that any tension seemed to have faded.

#yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #suga fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #hybrid!au #cafe!au #hybrid!yoongi #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #suga #bts #bts suga #bts yoongi

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multisfabulis · 3 years

Text

Wayfinder’s Voyage

Terrestrial (Chapter 2 | 2)

Word Count: 6427

Fun fact, the last part of this chapter was written and finished during Terraqua week on Twitter so this marks the second time I've written a fic for a ship and the ship week just happens to roll around when I get around to writing it. Maybe lightning will strike twice around this time next year!

While I was reading fics on AO3 over the past day, I noticed a couple things. One is that the two people I read the fics from put more thought into their works than I did and I spent a month and a half writing both these chapters. The other is that my interpretation of this ship is vastly different from others which isn't a bad thing! I think my years of writing my original ship of Verreth has gotten me to stay with the "slow" aspect of slowburn with plans of payoff being sometime in the future. I do plan on writing payoff for this ship someday, just at some point in the undetermind future!

One last thing is there's a timeline with this fic! It's not super necessary to know but for those wondering, there's 4 scenes in both chapters and it goes Aqua 1 > Terra 1 > T2 > A2 > A3 > T3 > A4 > T4. Hopefully, that's not confusing!

Read on AO3 | Read on DA | Support me on Ko-fi!

Today had been a good day, thought Terra as he headed towards the library. He was coming from Aqua’s room after finding that she wasn’t there and figured she’d be at the library studying. They’d finished their daily training earlier so he wanted to spend some time with her before evening rolled around. Besides, he wanted to thank her for helping him out with his magic skills, or lack thereof. It was only because of her guidance he was able to do what he did today.

He felt like he was in top form. He mastered new techniques for his Keyblade, learned to use some strong magic, and even earned Eraqus’ praise. This was honestly a great day and he wanted Aqua to partake in his revelry. She needed a break from studying anyway so this was as good a time as any.

He stepped inside the library through the grand set of double doors. Tall bookcases lined the walls from top to bottom, left to right. Sunlight poured in from the great western window, causing the tables sitting in the center to cast large shadows all across the tiled floor. He looked at where she usually sat and, while there was a stack of books and some paper lying on the table, she wasn’t there. That struck him as odd since she normally put things back where they belonged. If she wasn’t in her room or here, something must’ve happened.

He searched all over for her but he still couldn’t find her. There’s no way she left the Land of Departure so she had to be somewhere. The only place he hadn’t checked yet was the mountain, which he was unsure about. She never ventured far from the building and that was when she was outside but it was the best guess he had. He ran out the front door and down the stairs leading up.

He didn’t need to look very far. He found her sitting on the edge of the Forecourt with her knees drawn up to her chest, looking off into the horizon. This had happened enough times for him to know she was deep in thought over something. Whatever she was thinking about, it was affecting her to the point she wasn’t acting like her usual self and he couldn’t just ignore her.

She didn’t seem to acknowledge him when he sat down beside her. He decided to give her some time to see if she wanted to speak first. A moment or two of silence passed before it was made clear he had to be the one to break the ice. Starting off with a question looked to be the right way to go.

“Everything okay?”

He saw the corner of her mouth curve up into a tiny smile and she replied, “Yeah, I’m just…thinking.”

“About what?” he asked.

She leaned back and let her legs hang off the edge of the Forecourt. “The future, I guess.” She let out a heavy sigh. “Our future as Keyblade Masters, I mean.”

That caught him off-guard. She wasn’t one to worry about the future, least of all them becoming Masters. She never thought of it as an if, instead an expectation to meet one day, so to hear her say those words concerned him somewhat. The only possible explanation he could think of was that she was starting to doubt herself and her abilities as a Keyblade wielder.

Of course, that made no sense. Despite her modesty, she’s proven her strength and capabilities more times than he could remember to both him and their master, not to mention she had the heart to show for it. He had the confidence in believing she’d pass her exam with flying colors and become a pretty damn good Keyblade Master. Maybe she just needed to be reminded of that?

“Hey, if you’re worried about not becoming a Master, I don’t think you have any reason to,” he said in an attempt to reassure her. “Me and Master know you’ll ace your Mark of Mastery exam and---”

“You don’t understand, that’s exactly what I mean!” After shouting that, she leaned forwards and put her hands in her lap, keeping her eyes fixed on them. “Sorry, you didn’t deserve that.”

So he was wrong, which left him even more confused on what was going on than before. “Then what are you worried about?”

Breathing in deep, she answered with, “We said we’d become Masters together one day, right? But what happens if we don’t? What if only one of us passes and the other fails?”

“You mean, if you were to pass and I were to fail?” Was that really what she was tearing herself up over? It’s a possibility that’s stuck with him for a while now and, though he’d prefer it not happen at all, it wouldn’t bother him too much if it came true. “Well, if it happens, it happens. It’s not up to us on whether we become Masters or not, you know that.”

“But I don’t want to be the only one who passes.” She finally looked at him for the first time since this conversation began. “I don’t want to be a master without you, Terra.”

Her earnest sincerity flustered him, causing him to avert his eyes away from her gaze as his heart fluttered wildly about. There was a part of him that, admittedly, was touched by her devotion to him. It was just like her to want that and share the enjoyment of hitting that milestone together. But what kind of friend would he be if he let her give up on her dream? It may have been theirs all this time but she stood a real chance at getting it and she deserved it.

“Aqua, as much as I understand how you’re feeling, you shouldn’t pass up on being a Master for my sake,” he said, hoping that he was getting through to her. “It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“But I don’t want my title to come between us. I don’t want to lose you and I don’t want you to…” she trailed off. Looking her way revealed her hands to be clasped tightly together in her lap. Even without that little indicator, she didn’t need to finish for him to know what she meant.

He slowly reached over, took her hand in his, and held it to ease her shaking. “I could never hate you, Aqua. You’re my friend and I just want you to be happy.”

When she didn’t respond, he continued on, “That’s why I promise that, if you’re the only one of us who passes, I’ll support you 100% all the way.” He gave her hand a firm yet gentle squeeze. “I give you my word.”

She stiffened beside him yet she didn’t try to take her hand away. The only sound that broke through the quiet was the ambient noise surrounding them. He watched as her shoulders shook and she wiped unshed tears from the corners of her eyes. Even so, he could see a small smile on her face. Sometimes, all she needed to hear were words of encouragement, which he was more than happy to provide.

Eventually, she scooted closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder. Now it was his turn to act like he got hit with electricity. Before he could say or do anything more to react, she whispered:

“Thank you.”

He hoped she couldn’t see the defeated yet tender smile he had. There was a reason he felt something akin to fondness for her when she did something like this. He liked this part of her, even if it did leave him feeling like a fish out of water sometimes. He rested his cheek against her in an attempt to return her affection. Whether she’d realize that or not remained to be seen.

“You’re welcome.”

They stayed like that for as long as they could. From watching the sun set over the horizon to greeting the night sky together, they stayed. Their only witnesses were the stars above them as they twinkled in the darkness.

Terra let out a yawn as he walked down the corridor leading to his room. He had just gotten back from doing some late night training outside and wanted nothing more than to go to bed. It was tiring yet rewarding, which gave him hope he’d get stronger the longer he kept at it. If he had any chance at becoming a Keyblade Master, he figured this was his best shot.

It was when he was reaching the library he noticed it. A dull orange glow was emanating from the crack under the set of double doors, which he found to be strange because who could be in there at this late hour? Master would’ve already retired to his chambers earlier in the night so it had to be the only other person living here. Was she still studying, even with it being this late?

He pushed open the doors and stepped inside, his voice breaking the silence with a single call of her name. He didn’t get an answer and soon realized why. At the furthest table on the east side of the room, with stacks of book piled all around her, was a soundly asleep Aqua. The orange glow he saw before came from the small lamp sitting beside her just within hand’s reach.

A smile split across his face when he approached her. Her face was buried in an open book and she was holding a pencil in her hand, as if she was writing things down before falling asleep. He’d believe it too, what with all the papers scattered around the table that were full of extensive notes just from a cursory glance alone. It was honestly kinda adorable seeing her like this. He’d ponder on the question of what to do with her but asking himself that yet again would yield no answers.

Well, there was only one thing left for him to do. He slowly pulled her chair out, tensing up when it seemed she was stirring before relaxing. He set the pencil down beside a stack of books and carefully picked her up so as to not jostle her awake. This had practically become a routine at this point. Then he began the long trek of carrying her back to her room.

It wasn’t like this was his first time doing this sort of thing. If anything, he’s had to put her to bed more times than he could count lately. He didn’t mind helping her out every now and then but this was starting to turn into a problem. He hoped she wasn’t pushing herself too hard to the point of exhaustion. While her hardworking nature was a trait he greatly admired her for, it was a double-edged sword. He was worried that it’d lead her to an early grave if she didn’t slow down some.

There was little doubt in his mind she was running herself ragged. She trained and studied hard on a daily basis and that wasn’t even taking into account all the cooking, cleaning, and management of him she decided to put on her shoulders. She seemed more like a mother than a girl two years his junior. Just because she was his fellow apprentice didn’t mean she needed to bear so much responsibility. If only she'd take his words to heart instead of shrugging them off like she usually did.

They soon made it to her room. He opened the door and carefully maneuvered his way inside with her in his arms. There wasn’t much to remark on in here, aside from the organized tidiness of it all. It was something he always tried to strive for with his own room but he could never quite get on her level. He set her down on the bed, pulling the blanket up over her since it was around that time the weather cooled some. When it came time for him to leave, he left the room and shut the door but not before silently bidding her goodnight. If there was anything he wanted for her to have tonight, it was a restful night’s sleep.

Now what? Maybe it was perhaps a good idea to clean up her improvised office so it’d save her some time tomorrow. He knew her well enough to know she’d rush over to the library to do the exact same thing the moment she realized she woke up in bed and not there in her chair. It was the least he could do. With a weary sigh, he trudged back to the library, feeling that this was going to be a long night.

What if he became someone she wouldn’t need to look after anymore? Part of the reason why she didn’t put herself above others was because she was too busy taking care of everyone so it was up to him to lighten the load. If he could show her he’d be fine without her worrying, she might finally think of herself for once. The more he thought about it, the more right it felt. He was going to become a man who could be independent from her so she could get some well-needed rest. It was the best solution he had to this problem and he had to make it work.

Eventually, he was inside the library again and at her table. His first order of business was to put all the books back in their place, which meant taking apart the stacks, reading their titles, and searching the empty spots in the vast bookcases. Then the papers strewn about had to be organized and put somewhere she could easily see tomorrow. Oh, tonight was going to be a long night, indeed.

The first few books were easy to find and return. It was when he got to the more complicated ones he had to do a double-take because these were advanced. These were books he was absolutely positive they didn’t need to learn from but she certainly was, if her notes were anything to go by. Just flipping through the pages let him see how complex and intricate everything was for an apprentice to learn yet she made it seem so simple, so straightforward. He had to give Aqua major props for understanding all this since he sure as hell couldn’t.

Her intelligence was just one of her many amazing qualities. There was her strength, her kindness, her selflessness, her ambition, her determination, even her modesty, although he wished she’d realize the praise heaped upon her by both him and their master was rightfully earned instead of it being said for niceties’ sake. She was a person he was proud to call his friend and he had all the confidence to believe she’d be a superb Keyblade Master. Admiration didn’t come close to how he felt towards her yet it was a small step before falling into adoration.

He’s known for a while he’d developed feelings for her. It was hard to pinpoint when he became so enamored with her but the way he’s viewed her definitely changed the more they aged. She stopped being a friend a long time ago and was turning into a girl he may or may not have been falling in love with. Everything on that front was a mess of jumbled up knots that would take forever to unravel. His method of dealing with these was to express them quietly, convey them in a way she wouldn’t suspect there being something deeper. He had no idea of when or even if he’d confess because he wasn’t sure there’d ever be a right time.

Now definitely wasn’t the best time. They needed to focus on their exam and romance should be the last thing on either of their minds. Even the future didn’t seem certain, what with the choice they were supposed to make when they did surpass the rank of apprentice. One would stay and succeed their master while the other would travel to other worlds to protect them from invading Heartless. He didn’t go further down that depressing train of thought. He had plenty of time to decide on when would be good so he didn’t need to worry too much on it.

Maybe he could tell her when he became independent from her. The day she realized she wouldn’t have to look after him anymore, he’d tell her. That sounded right. It was still a far off dream but it was a dream he could see now.

He’d wait for that day, no matter how long it took. A part of him almost wanted to believe he was looking forward to it.

Terra ran inside the ravine, looking behind him to see if the Unversed would dare follow him in. The twisters carrying them still raged on outside and he hoped they’d stay out there. He kept his Keyblade trained at the entrance, ready to defend himself at a moment’s notice. He waited and waited till it became clear they weren’t in hot pursuit of him for him to dismiss his Keyblade, thanking whatever higher power there was for the brief respite.

The only relatively safe place he had was further inside the ravine. He began walking, running a hand alongside the wall to help keep himself steady as the world spun around him and his body ached. It was about halfway through he collapsed from the exhaustion, falling to his knees while struggling to breathe. He needed to take a break. If he went into battle like this, he would surely lose. He shifted himself into a sitting position and leaned his back against the wall, closing his eyes.

How did it all end up like this? The dream he worked so hard to achieve, his lifelong dream of becoming a Keyblade Master, slipped from his grasp just when he thought he could reach it. Ven, the boy he saw as a little brother, the friend he swore to protect, was being hunted down by an entity who meant him harm and would stop at nothing to ensure his demise. Aqua would want nothing to do with him after she found out what had happened and he wouldn’t blame her for washing her hands of him. That was if she hadn’t done so already. Then their master, the man they all saw and looked up to as a father figure, he…

His eyes burned with tears threatening to spill over. He never hated Eraqus, they may have argued at times but he never hated him. He took him, Aqua, and Ven in, raised them as if they were his own, and only wanted what was best for them. Sure, he wasn’t perfect but what parent was? He may have fought him and Ven earlier but he showed genuine regret and wanted to make amends to them both. Terra didn’t want to hurt him, he was just trying to protect his friend, so why? Why did he have to die? He didn’t deserve such a fate, especially one dealt to him by his apprentice and former friend’s hand. If only he could rewind time and try to reason with him, try to undo his death so they wouldn’t have the grief of losing him weighing on their minds. Yet he had no such power so it became another sin he put on his cross to bear.

How was he going to explain what happened to Ven? The last time they saw each other was when he cast him out the portal before fighting with their master. He was still alive, that much Terra knew, but he didn’t know where he ended up at. The one thing he had to know, though, was why Ven was willing to die by Eraqus’ hand. It wasn’t like he had done anything wrong so why? He didn’t understand what his friend’s death would accomplish, not like he wanted to if it did at any rate. When he eventually learned of the aftermath of that fight, Terra worried it might break him, if everything up to this point hadn’t already. A part of him almost believed Ven would revert back to the despondent boy he was when they first met and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever recover from that. It was a miracle he did over the past four years but this time…

Then there was Aqua. With how he managed to royally screw things up with her, he had no one but himself to blame. He treated her so awfully, from the hearing of their exam results to their short-lived reunion in Radiant Garden. His first mistake was breaking his promise to her, which was to support her in the event she was the only one to pass and become Master, and she must’ve felt so horrible about it. It wasn’t that he was angry at her for passing, he was just upset at the whole situation that it buried the happiness he felt for her at finally achieving her dream. Then he lashed out at her after it came out she was sent by their master to watch over him to make sure he didn’t succumb to the temptation of darkness. It hurt enough to think Eraqus didn’t trust him but to believe she didn’t, either? Yet they were right. He was led astray so easily and they were all suffering for the consequences of his actions now.

Everything, all of it, was his fault. If he wasn’t so trusting, if he just asked the right questions, if he wasn’t so weak, none of this would’ve happened. Xehanort preyed on his insecurities, attempted to turn him against his friends, and used him to kill the man he considered his father. Now he was going to destroy what was left of his family, along with Vanitas, and he didn’t know what to do. He only knew how to fight but would it be enough to save them? Or would it lead them all to their deaths? All he wanted was to go back to the night he, Aqua, and Ven shared under the starry sky back home, blissfully unaware of the tragedy that would befall them. Was that too much to ask?

Tears slid down his cheeks as he teetered on the edge of despair. Everything was just so twisted, so hopeless. What chance did the three of them have against a seasoned Keyblade Master and his loyal guard dogs? They might as well have been heading straight to their deaths with all the worlds falling into darkness as their consolation prize in this battle disguised as a cruel game. He was scared to die, scared of death and whether an afterlife really existed after passing on from one plane to the next. He didn’t want to die but it came for everyone at the end, regardless of their desires.

Well, if he was going to die anyway, he’ll go out protecting his friends. This was his mess to clean up so he should be the one to fix it. Besides, this might be the only way for him to atone for his sins, right the wrongs he made. If Aqua and Ven could live out the rest of their days free from any danger that would harm them, then he’d face his death with dignity.

With his energy replenished, he stood up and looked towards the exit. He hadn’t been this far into the Badlands so he had no idea of what awaited him at the other end of the ravine. He walked on and on till he came out and stopped. The sight that laid before him rendered him speechless.

Hundreds upon hundreds of Keyblades stuck up out of the ground like markers and something resembling a crossroads cut through all of them. It was then he realized what this place truly was. This was where thousands of Keyblade wielders fought against each other in order to summon Kingdom Hearts, the conflict better known as the Great Keyblade War. These Keyblades represented, or what was left of, the people that fell in the battle, where they would rest for all eternity. How fitting then it was to die here at this scarred wasteland of a graveyard among the warriors of old. Would he meet the same fate as his predecessors did all those years ago?

At the eastern end of the crossroads was Aqua. Their eyes met and hers held a quiet fury in them he had never seen before. They both walked down the paths ahead of them till they reached the intersection, where he could see her clearly now. There were healing cuts and bruises all across her body, no doubt from the countless battles she faced while on her journey, and there was a hidden sadness behind the anger. She knew and nothing he could say or do would make it all right. He was fully prepared for the emotional lashing her words would deliver unto him.

She didn’t disappoint, laying into him all the pain and misery he brought to her, culminating in her placing blame of their master’s death onto his shoulders. She was particularly close to him so the news had to have hit her hard. Her eyes glistened with tears as he stayed silent and she demanded answers from him, almost begging him to say anything to defend himself. It hurt to hear her voice waver, knowing she was trying and failing to hold back the emotion. She didn’t deserve this. She deserved so much better than this. What kind of man was he, to cause the woman he loved so much pain and not be able to fix it?

Ven appeared at the southern end of the crossroads. Soon as they both saw him, they exchanged a look and approached him. It was like an unspoken rule that, whatever was happening between them, it came second to Ven. He was their top priority and nothing could be any more important than him. That was the one thing they could agree on unanimously. He seemed just as tired as they were, though it was clear something was weighing heavily on him, evident by how he couldn’t look at them at all. Concern gave way to dread when he told them the reason behind his woe.

He and Vanitas were to fuse together and create the X-blade so that Xehanort could use it to summon Kingdom Hearts and reset the universe. He wanted there to be a balance between Light and Dark, which this supposed reset would bring. That’s why Ven was willing to die by Eraqus’ hand. His death would foil Xehanort’s plan and potentially take out Vanitas along with him. Terra felt time stop when Ven asked him and Aqua to end him. How could he ask such a thing from him? He already lost their master, he couldn’t bear to lose what was left of his family.

Before any more could be said, they were at the northern end. Xehanort, Vanitas, and that man he fought back in Radiant Garden. It seemed like an evenly numbered match but power had to be wildly scaled between the six of them. The final battle was here, Light vs Dark, the victor left up to chance. He, Aqua, and Ven all summoned their Keyblades and rushed in.

His target was Xehanort, the mastermind behind everything. There was no way in hell he was going to let him get away with his crimes. He manipulated him to do his bidding, killed the man that was once a former friend to him, and would kill his loved ones if he didn’t stop him here. He swore he’d protect them till the very end, to his last breath, and he planned on upholding that vow.

He would set things right.

Terra’s eyes fluttered open to rays of light filtering through the curtains of the window, telling him it was early morning. He was on a bed, soft one at that, in a room he didn’t recognize slowly becoming bathed in sunlight. The room was like any others he’d been in before. Where was he?

Only once it sank in did he begin to panic. He was in an unfamiliar room and he was out for what felt like an eternity. He couldn’t let this rare opportunity go to waste, he needed to reach out to someone for help before Xehanort attempted to shut him inside that place again. It didn’t matter who, it just had to be someone who’d listen to him and not think he was crazy. He tried to sit up but found he couldn’t. There were two weights on either side of him keeping him trapped there on the bed. Did Xehanort count for something like this happening and put measures in place so he couldn’t wander around freely? Whatever the case may be, he had to break out while he still had the chance and find help.

It was then the memories of yesterday started to come to him. There was a big battle between Darkness and Light and those on the side of Light won. His heart was freed, the man possessing his body had been driven out, and he was reunited with his two dear friends. He looked down, as if to confirm that what happened did happen, and saw Aqua and Ven soundly asleep beside him. The anxiety that had seized him vanished, becoming replaced with relief and an exhausted sort of happiness he hadn’t felt in such a long time.

It was liberating to be back in control of his body and his life. No voice in his head, no feeling like a passenger as someone else piloted him, he was himself again for the first time in forever. No longer would he worry if he was allowed to be out or if it was another one of Xehanort’s psychological games of war. No more losing fights for control as more and more of his identity was stripped away. He was Terra, he reclaimed himself, and he wouldn’t let anyone take that away from him again.

A soft smile spread across his face as he watched them sleep. His grip on them tightened ever so slightly, thankful to be able to bask in this moment. They saved him, even when they were knocked down over and over, almost dying in the process. They all fought so hard to reach each other and their efforts were rewarded with a tearful yet happy reunion. He’d cherish that memory till the end of time. He almost lost them once and he’ll be damned if anything ever came between them again.

They had lots of work ahead of them. An entire decade passed them by in ways no one should ever have to experience. While he was vaguely aware of the passage of time during his drifts in and out of consciousness, it still felt like only days since everything in their journeys happened. All they had were fragments of the lives they led, of worlds left forgotten, to help them start anew.

Ven might have the easiest time adjusting to the changes. He spent those eleven years sleeping in the Land of Departure, though that wasn’t quite right. His body stayed safe at home while his heart slumbered within another. He was never in the line of danger, Aqua made sure of that. He befriended lots of people during his trip around the worlds so they were certain to be of big help to him. It’d be hard but he’d adapt quickly, Terra just knew it.

Speaking of which, he might have a more difficult time. Pieces of him were scattered across different forms throughout the years so he needed to relearn what being himself was like again. Parts of what made him Terra had changed so much from how they were before, they could no longer apply to him now. He was, in some ways, a new person and he would never be the same man he was. He was going to be doing lots of soul-searching in the foreseeable future. His only hope was that he would like the person at the end of the tunnel.

Then there was Aqua. She definitely had it the roughest out of them all and for very good reason. She traversed through the Realm of Darkness, fighting for her life while struggling to keep her inner demons at bay. She was only there in the first place because she sacrificed herself for him, which he planned on speaking to her about at some point in the near future. They met only the one time last year and their reunion was cut short by Xehanort seizing his chance to continue on with the creation of the X-blade. She needed to learn she’d be safe, that nothing would come and kill her if she wasn’t vigilant enough and whatnot. Her time in that hellish wasteland left her with deep-seated scars she may never fully heal from. He and Ven would help her with whatever she needed, whether it be supporting her at every step of the way or by simply listening to her. She wouldn’t go through this alone.

None of them came out unscathed by their ordeals. Although it would take them some time to truly recover, both physically and mentally, it really helped to know they weren’t alone in this. They still did and always would have each other but they now had their newly-found friends to lean on for support whenever they needed it. It was kinda hard for him to wrap his head around just how many people would be there for them, especially him. Their master was gone now but there was no doubt in his mind he’d still watch over his apprentices from wherever he went. Their new life might be scary yet it already looked so bright.

His eyes wandered over to Aqua again. He wanted to set things right with her, especially after all the pain he caused her. An apology for breaking his promise was the first step in the right direction. Then he was going to become someone she wouldn’t feel the need to look after anymore. It was because of him she ended up in the Realm of Darkness so he thought it’d be only fair to help her focus on herself for a change. She was a Master now and he was planning on catching up to her as soon as he could. That was a promise he intended to keep.

When was he going to tell her? He originally wanted to do it when he became independent from her but his time away from people had taught him some important life lessons to remember. Loved ones were here only as long as they needed to be and time spent with them should never be taken for granted, like he had with Eraqus. He didn’t want to leave things unsaid between them, in the event that something happened and he was left unable to say what he wanted. They weren’t ready for that sort of relationship yet so he’d keep his cards close to his chest for just a little longer. Once they were in a better place and had worked through some of their issues, then he’d confess. Who knows if she’d return them?

He couldn’t quite pin down when his feelings for her deepened into what they were now. He only really realized it when they were in the Keyblade Graveyard before their paths split apart so it was hard to say. What he did know, however, was that she became such an irreplaceable constant in his life. She was someone he confided in, someone who always thought the better of him, a light in the darkness that plagued him. She was his anchor, his dearly beloved. She became his Wayfinder, guiding him until he was back home to her and Ven.

The whisper of three little words broke through the silence. He wasn’t able to admit it to himself back then but he now had a voice to vocalize them with. He hoped his feelings would reach her heart.

“I love you.”

#airi's writing #terraqua #fanfiction #kingdom hearts #canon divergence

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