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prof-peach · 3 years

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if fans wanted to include peach in stuff they write, would that be okay? and how would they write peach's personality? aside from "FIGHT ME" anyway, i think that much is a given lol. i only really write the anime characters 'cause that's what i know, but it sounds like it'd be kinda fun to try making a version of ash that fits into this blog's universe! nerf'd Obviously, but i think she'd probably appreciate how hands-on he gets when training his pokemon!

Ok, I get a lot of these messages, and I often hear folks wanting to throw peach into their stories and comics and writings, and I will always simply ask that if it’s published online publicly, to be linked to it so I can snoop and enjoy the content too. If someone asks about her in your work, let them know about the blog I guess? But literally I love that people take this stuff, these characters and stories, and make new stuff with it. No ones making money off my work here? So where’s the issue? Go for it buddy, knock yourself out, I’m all for it.

For you, and all the others out there who want to add peach, and other characters to your world building, I will give you a detailed rundown of the main lot, and how they behave, what they do, how they function. You can use that, use bits, or use none of it, I do not mind at all. If you’re creating something, you’re in control, not me.

So, peach doesn’t actually fight people as much as you’d think. She’s very aware most cannot and do not want to do that, and so she likes to keep to herself with regards to that aspect of her life, she doesn’t ask to spar with people, or even bring it up at all, but people ask her all the time, even if they clearly would lose or become hurt should she miscalculate during the fight. She looks at people like they usually create problems, and often has a somewhat reserved nature to other humans. You have to work quite hard to get anything more than formalities out of her. She will dead-pan handle people with blunt and very to-the-point statements, aid whenever possible, but very quickly get back to handling the Pokemon she so carefully tends. Her focus is clear, she’s all about hard work, her very small select family, and the Pokemon.

Her brutal, loud and brash personality only comes out with friends, family, difficult humans, OR any Pokemon. She will joke and laugh and play with Pokemon, but clam up around humans, maintaining tight body language and generally will be a little cold by regular standards. She does however have some weaknesses in this emotionless shield she puts up. When peach was young she was always angry, which swung so fast to sadness, back and forth. Her teenage years it just got worse and worse, it was crippling at points. She is to this day, full of fire and rage, even sadness, but now she has learnt to control it, to use it. When she sees that in others, it’s familiar, and she is pushed to drop the front, and be very real with the person. Underdogs I suppose, people who get bad reps, but deserve the same as everyone else. She can’t ignore it.

Once you start to pry open her personality, you’ll find she’s a lot more laid back and fun than originally appeared, you just have to work hard to find that side of her. She will meme reference, can’t dance to save her life, loves her coffee, and can be caught in quiet contemplation while gardening. This hobby is her calmest, and often is why she can stay so level headed when her quiet rage boils up again. Without time outside she will become grouchy, a little snippy, and lethargic. Will not go in the ocean for any reason other than life or death, is fine with ponds and rivers, or water at wading height. Likes the rain.

With regards to her training others, they usually have to tolerate her somewhat strict nature. She is a little....unforgiving, holds a grudge if you make a lot of mistakes, and has no tolerance for ignorance in the age of information that we all live in. In previous posts I’ve mentioned she’s only recently selected two students, after many years of testing kids who want to learn from her. Hundred tried out, only two have ever been approved. How she teaches is very fast paced, be prepared to get some scrapes and bruises, she will test your physical and emotional tolerances with intense tasks, carefully watching students like a hawk. Bad posture in your stance? She’ll be the first to tell you to sort it out. Not hearing your Pokemon partner? Right, now you spend the day without using words trying to communicate, let’s see how you like not being listened to.

This is a woman who has spent her life saying very little, and watching everything, she watches Pokemon and can see an issue from a mile off, and in battles, her observations are why she can react fast, and chose effective strategy to avoid damage and achieve results. Don’t let her body fool you, her strongest asset is analysing, watching, planning. Those skills have over the years transferred to people too. As a student, mistakes don’t go unnoticed with this professor.

Her methods are harsh but fair, and should you prove yourself, she will protect you with her life.

Because of her disinterest in kids and lots of noise, she does pass the training of students on to the other staff members whenever possible. Grey takes on the lions share of battle lessons, he is far calmer, more open and friendly, with patience for people, and an empathy that peach sometimes struggles to have. When you go through a lot of harsh training, and difficult events, it’s hard to change how you feel or think, with peach, well, she’s been through it. Most do not come out the other end in one piece, but she did, and it made her strong. You may think I mean strong like buff and big, and yeah sure she is, but I mean it mentally more than anything. Peach will not quit. She has learnt to destroy the boundaries that stop people getting hurt, gone is the fear that freezes you in your tracks, that feeling that you’ll pass out if you go one more step. She’s learnt to ignore it.

This means she’s a little forgetful at how it is to be normal, to be vulnerable and soft and squishy like students so usually are.

She has her issues, but for the most part, visitors get a laugh, a smile, a calm assertive confidence, and facts. She will indulge those who have genuine interest, or show a connection with nature, an understanding of the balance that needs to be struck for everyone to live well together.

Despite her many flaws, she’s fiercely protective, and will go above and beyond to defend the island, it’s staff, the Pokemon and the visitors. Injustice is her biggest gripe, along with littering, and she doesn’t stand by quietly if something happens that seems unfair.

You will not see her without Valka, her vulpix, close by. That Pokemon doesn’t like to be touched by strangers, at all, and will run the second someone comes at her with that intent. Peach will scold you for pushing yourself onto her, should you persistently try to get close to pet Val. They are in sync, if peach is sad, Val is sad, if Val is stressed, peach is stressed, and so on. They are inherently connected, it’s just been that long, the psychic bridge between them has been built, and reinforced over the years.

The only other Pokemon who follows her so endlessly is Booker, a teddiursa who’s pretty rough looking. He quietly trots behind, grouchy and stoic, they fight closely together a lot. He lost his mom a long time ago to poachers, and peach took him in, and changed her whole life for him. Not many people know, but Booker was the reason she left the rangers, changed career, and got so strong. Will tolerate people petting him but isn’t keen at all, grumbles a lot and tries to move away.

You may also need to know about the others, for the sake of writing, she here a few more bits that may be important to you, or others wanting to do this.

Grey is very tall, very burly, composed, tells bad dad jokes, is a bit of a goof if allowed to be. If he sees a pun, he’ll say it. Can’t help himself. Very nice guy to work with, good at keeping people calm and grounded. Pokemon are drawn to him like a moth to a flame, he gives off warm energy, and has inhuman amounts of patience. If you wrong his family however, he will snap back.

He grew up in the city, loves to swim and hike and cycle, can snowboard, is really sporty. A total brain box with held items, and boosting stats. He will explore many paths, to make sure visitors and students get the information they need, in a way that can be remembered and retained for later. Is a huge guy, but will get on the floor to play with a tiny Pokemon. Treats big “meaner” looking species like babies, very good with all pokemon.

His free time is spent either tinkering, swimming, or trimming his bonsai trees. This guy stares at screens a lot, so appreciates time away from them. Peach built him his own little greenhouse for his trees and tools, which he keeps clean and loves dearly.

His methods as a teacher are built around fun and games, he makes hard work easier to do by distracting trainers from the difficult bits, and focusing in on something more interesting or compelling.

His most commonly seen Pokemon would be a houndoom, Saxon, old battle veteran, retired now to herding and being a good boy. Very gentle, loves a pet.

Pari, now a fully fledged nurse, often oversees the labs front desk and pokecentre features, such as healing pokemon, and informing trainers who come to visit. Her skills with eggs and hatchlings is high, she’s great with younger Pokemon, and hands out good advice to trainers a lot. She’s not a fighter, never was, but can find any file, any study, any book, and any refrence you may need. A true bookworm, loves her romance novels, chat shows and upbeat celebrity gossip mags. Will cry at a lot of stuff, be it sad or happy.

She’s got a seriously upbeat personality, but if caught off guard or shocked, she gets a little flustered. Too much chaos will overwhelm her, but usually she’s on top of things. The years spent on the island have made her better at maintaining composure in emergencies. With lots of siblings, she’s very competent with others, and has a good ability to disarm cagey people with her jolly nature. Because of this, she can sometimes gain information from trainers that some of the more harsh professors may not have access to. Charming is a word for it.

Her partners are an eevee, and a happiny. They are quite sweet and well adjusted, the eevee gets a bit bouncy if you get it too excited.

#if you dont want to use the refs #im really cool with it #just enjoy yourself buddy #pokemon #prof.peach #peach talks #prof.grey #pari #dotaku island #dotaku staff #PLEASE #just ask me if you dont know something #or feel i missed something in what i wrote

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fics-n-stuff · 3 years

Text

A Nice Christmas

Thanks to @gayhistorynerd for the prompt, see here (I kind of deviated from it a little maybe a lot but the story still stemmed from this prompt)

Pairing: Wilhelm × Simon

Summary: Wilhelm may have denied being in the sex tape, but that doesn't mean that the world has forgotten. The Christmas break proves to be difficult for both Simon and Wilhelm, one suffering from ongoing harassment and the other feeling completely isolated, and they find that they can't help but be drawn back to each other.

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: This took me so long to write because I got writer's block right after I started it. This doesn't have a super happy ending because I wanted to try and keep it pretty realistic, but it is pretty sweet and wholesome.

Taglist: @probablyprocrastinatingrightnow @rika90 @angelwilhelm

Wilhelm had never felt more alone than he did being home for Christmas break. He spent as much time as was physically possible holed up in his bedroom, not wanting to see or talk to anyone, especially not his mother. He hadn’t turned his phone on for three days, he had bitten his nails down to the nailbeds and he hardly had any appetite. The ache in his chest was constant and unyielding.

He lay in the dark most of the time, his curtains closed throughout the day and only sometimes opened at night to let the moonlight in. Besides that, he didn’t have much idea of how time was passing.

He did know that it was Christmas eve though. And it must be the morning because nobody had come to drag him out of his bedroom to join the celebrations. A cursory peek around the curtain confirmed that, as Wilhelm saw that the sun hadn’t even fully risen yet.

A deep breath settled the stone in his stomach, and he reached for his phone with a shaky hand.

When the device turned on it immediately started going crazy with notifications, and Wilhelm felt his heart rate increase with every buzz.

5 messages from August

Ignore.

10 messages from Mamma

Ignore.

2 missed calls from Felice

Wilhelm paused in swiping away the notifications. Felice had called him twice and sent him three messages. He clicked on the message notification, sitting back against the wall and holding in a breath without realising it.

Felice: Hey Wille, how are you feeling being home?

Felice: I just wanted to check in but I can’t get a hold of you, I hope you’re doing alright

Felice: You probably don’t want to talk but you can call or text me whenever you do

Wilhelm sighed. Of all the people that he thought that he could depend on, Felice was the only one that he still had. He swallowed the lump in his throat and called her back.

It rang for a while before she answered, and he’d almost decided to hang up the call when it stopped ringing.

“Wille, good morning.” Felice greeted, cheerful but clearly tired. “Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah, merry Christmas Felice.” Wilhelm replied feebly. His voice was hoarse from disuse.

“Are you alright? Do you want to talk about something?”

“Uhm, I- I don’t know, I just... I don’t know.” He stuttered, wrapping his free arm around himself.

“Okay, well, what are your plans for today?”

“I’m not sure, I haven’t really been talking to anyone. What, uh, what are your plans?”

“Oh, you know, just the usual. We’ll watch Kalle Anka's Jul and play some games before dinner, then we’ll open presents.” She explained. The tinny sound of her voice through the phone was actually quite calming.

“What about for the rest of the break?”

“Um, I’m going to New York to see Maddie for New Year, so that’ll be fun. And I’m going back to Bjärstad on Boxing Day to see Sara. I’m gonna stay there just for one night.”

“So you’ve been talking to Sara a lot then?” Wilhelm questioned, moving to bite at his almost non-existent nails.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Has she said anything about Simon? Do you know if he’s alright?” His words came out more rushed than he had intended. Clearly, he was more eager for some sort of information on Simon than he had thought.

“Um, she hasn’t said much but I think he’s pretty okay.” Felice replied, but it was followed by a small sigh that let Wilhelm know that there was more to the story. “Sara says that things have mostly gone back to normal, but Simon goes out a lot less and she’s had to make her Instagram private. I think they’ve had a few people show up at their house.”

Wilhelm swallowed hard, a feeling of guilt crawling under his skin. Simon’s Instagram account had been private ever since the video had been leaked, so it seemed that now people had found Sara’s too. They had attention on them that they had never signed up for, and Wilhelm knew that it was his fault and he felt terrible for that.

“Okay.” He replied shakily. There was a short silence before Felice spoke again.

“How are you, Wilhelm? Really?” She asked.

“Lonely.” He answered. “Listen, I have to go. I need to take a shower before someone comes demanding that I take part in the Christmas celebrations.”

“Alright well, call me back whenever, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Bye, Felice.”

“Bye, Wille. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”

Wilhelm ran a hand over his face, letting out a groan of frustration and sadness. Why couldn’t he just be a normal kid?

He stared down at his phone in his lap, gnawing at the nail of his right thumb in contemplation. With a shaking breath and trembling fingers, he picked it back up, opened his conversation with Simon and typed a short message. He dropped his phone in mild panic as soon as he hit send, and rubbed his hand over his chest as he took a deep, steadying breath.

+ + +

“Simon, wake up. Rosh and Ayub will be here soon.” Sara’s voice stirred Simon from his sleep and he rolled over to look at her. She was already dressed.

“What time is it?” He asked with a yawn.

“Nine o’clock. Get up and come help with breakfast.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m getting up.”

Sara rolled her eyes and left the room, and Simon reached out to his bedside table blindly until his hand landed on his phone. He squinted at the screen as he sat up, faltering when he saw the notification on the screen.

Wilhelm: Merry Christmas Simon

He felt his heart race as he stared at the screen, only snapping out of it when he heard Sara shouting at him from downstairs. He blinked, dropped his phone and set about getting dressed.

Every Christmas eve since they were ten, Simon, Sara, Rosh and Ayub would have breakfast together and then go for a long walk. It was tradition for them at this point, but Simon found himself unable to feel excited for it this year. It was all well and good to pretend like life was going on as normal, but it was hard not to feel uncomfortable when people stared at him everywhere he went.

Rosh and Ayub arrived just as he and Sara were finishing up making breakfast, and they exchanged Christmas well-wishes as they sat down to eat.

“You’re being real quiet over there, Simme. You alright?” Ayub asked after a while, and Simon realised that he’d been completely zoned out.

“Sorry, just thinking.”

“About Wilhelm?” Sara questioned. Simon pushed a bite of food into his mouth and shrugged.

“You have to move on, Simon.” Rosh said. “I know you care about him but he’s not worth all the trouble that he comes with.”

“I know. That’s why I ended things.” He replied. “It still sucks though.”

“You’ll get over him eventually.” Sara told him, putting a comforting hand on his for a few seconds before going back to her food. Simon smiled slightly.

He didn’t tell them about the text.

Despite all of that, he was in high spirits when they set out for their walk, happily joking and laughing with his friends, and they made it half an hour before he heard the first comment.

“That’s the guy from the sex tape.” Muttered a girl to her friend as they passed, and Simon felt the smile fall from his face.

“Just ignore them.” Sara told him, wrapping an arm around one of his. He nodded, but it had gotten to him. For the rest of their walk from that point, Simon felt like every person that they passed was looking at him and judging him.

They walked both Rosh and Ayub back to their houses before heading back to theirs just a bit past noon. They had almost gotten home when they were approached by a group of teenagers probably slightly younger than them.

“Are you the guy from that viral sex tape?” One of the boys asked unabashedly, the group coming right up in front of Simon and Sara and blocking their path.

“Uh, I don’t want to talk about that.” Simon replied stiffly, still trying to be polite.

“Oh my god, it is him!” A girl exclaimed.

“Was it actually the crown prince in the video?” Another chimed. Simon felt lightheaded.

“He already said that it wasn’t.” He deflected, trying to sidestep the group.

“Yeah, but there’s a lot of people that don’t actually believe him.” The girl laughed; actually laughed, as if this hadn’t been an earth shattering event for Simon.

“If it wasn’t Prince Wilhelm then who was it in the video?” A boy asked, and that was when Simon spotted the phone filming him and his stomach dropped.

“I’m not discussing my sex life with a bunch of strangers.” He scoffed in disbelief, shouldering his way past the group with Sara close behind him. “Please leave me alone.”

“You could just tell us if it was actually the prince or not.” One of them pressed, the group now following after Simon. “If it wasn’t him then you don’t have anything to hide.”

“Oh my god, did the royal family pay you off? Did they make you sign an NDA!?”

“Were you, like, boyfriends? Or was it just a hookup?”

Simon kept walking, keeping his head down and not answering any of the questions being hurled at him. He could sense that Sara was just as tense beside him. The group followed them for a full block before Simon finally lost his cool and came to a dead stop, turning to face them.

“I’m not going to answer your questions. The fact that you’re following me is not going to make me answer your questions. I’ve had my privacy majorly invaded once already and now you’re invading it again. I’m trying to enjoy Christmas with my sister and you’re chasing me with a camera, I’m sick of people harassing me.” He fumed, making sure to meet the eye of every one of them at some point. “Whatever you choose to believe is not my problem. It doesn’t matter whether you think that the crown prince is telling the truth or you choose to make up some type of theory, I deserve my privacy.”

He didn’t wait for any type of response before he turned around and walked away, thankful to find that they weren’t going to follow him anymore.

“You handled that well.” Sara said quietly once they had turned the next corner. Simon didn’t reply.

When they got home, he went straight upstairs without a word. He slammed his bedroom door shut and buried his face in his pillow, unable to hold the tears back any longer.

By that same evening, the video was viral.

+ + +

I bet that girl was right and the royal family made him sign an NDA

If he didn’t want people to think it was the prince he would have just said that it wasn’t so either the prince was lying or this guy is seeking attention

He’s literally a kid why can’t people just leave him alone??

I don’t care if it was the prince in the tape or not, this guy is hot

The way he said that people are making up theories makes me think that it actually wasn’t the prince in the video

I feel bad for this guy, getting followed around like that must suck

Wilhelm scrolled through the captions and comments on the seemingly endless posts of the video of Simon, feeling like somebody had a vice grip on his heart.

The first time he saw the video had been right after Christmas Eve dinner. He’d had a full blown panic attack and locked himself in the bathroom for half an hour. When he came out, his mother had tried to talk to him about the politics of the situation and he had immediately retreated into his bedroom once again. He missed Erik desperately.

He hadn’t been able to sleep, he'd only gotten about three hours of broken, fitful sleep all night, and now he couldn’t pry himself away from his phone. He knew that it was bad for him, he knew that it was making him feel terrible, but he wanted to know what people were saying.

He had been hesitant to text Simon, especially since he hadn’t received a reply to the merry Christmas text that he had sent in the morning, but in the end he mustered the courage to reach out. He had asked how Simon was doing and apologised for getting him into this situation. He wasn’t surprised when no answer came.

Christmas day was proving to be probably the worst day of Christmas break for Wilhelm. His chest felt like it was bursting open and like it was an empty chasm at the same time. He didn’t eat breakfast or lunch, he didn’t respond to the knocks that came at his door. He felt like he was trapped in a glass box and someone was shaking it.

Wilhelm didn’t know how long he had been scrolling through multiple different social media platforms when his phone buzzed in his hand and an incoming call appeared on the screen. He faltered, sitting up and almost dropping his phone, when he saw that it was Simon. He ran a nervous hand through his hair as he raised the phone to his ear.

“Simon?” He croaked.

“Hi, Wilhelm.” The reply came through the phone, and Wilhelm felt his shoulders relax at the sound of Simon’s voice.

“Hi. H-how are you.” He fumbled, and Simon sighed on the other end.

“I’m okay, I guess. As okay as I can be after... well, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry for putting you in this situation.”

“This wasn’t your fault, Wille.” Simon muttered. “I just wish things were different.”

“Why, um... why did you call?” Wilhelm asked. There was a short stretch of silence that rung in his ears before Simon answered.

“I just wanted to hear your voice, I guess.” He confessed, and Wilhelm couldn’t help the soft smile that pulled at his lips. “Honestly, I was kind of surprised that you didn’t delete my number or something.”

“Why would I have done that?”

“I don’t know, I guess I just thought that you weren’t supposed to have any ties with me since you said that it wasn’t you in the video.” Wilhelm winced at that.

“It's not like my contacts list is available to the public.” He replied, trying to keep his tone light. “I’m not gonna let that kind of thing get in my head again.”

“Is your mum mad?” Simon asked, and now it was Wilhelm’s turn to sigh.

“I’m not sure, I kind of shut myself in my room so that I wouldn’t have to deal with her.” He answered tiredly. “How is your family?”

“Uh, shaken. Sara’s off in her own world with her sketchbooks and mamá can’t go for more than an hour without checking on us both, but we’re handling it.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise.”

There was a silence again. Wilhelm ran his hand across his leg, back and forth in a soothing motion, not sure what he should say but not wanting the conversation to finish. In the end, Simon spoke first.

“Did you mean it, what you said before you left for the break?” He asked softly.

“Yeah, I did.” Wilhelm answered without hesitation. “I know it wasn’t a good time to say it, and you probably didn’t want to hear it, but I just had to say it out loud. At least once.”

Silence again. Wilhelm heard Simon sigh, and pursed his lips nervously.

“I miss you.” Simon said.

“I miss you too.” Wilhelm replied with a nervous yet relieved chuckle. “I miss you a lot.”

Another pause.

“Where do we go from here, Wille?” Simon whispered.

“I don’t know.” Wilhelm mumbled. “But I... I want to fix this. Or at least just try to fix it. You don’t deserve to be harassed like this, and it’s my fault and I feel terrible.”

“It’s not your fault.” Simon reassured with a sigh. “It was everything else. We still didn’t do anything wrong, and that includes you.”

“No, I did. I promised we would be in this together and I broke that promise.”

“I understand why you did it. And I’m not mad at you. Honestly, having thought about it, you probably made the best decision for my sake too. I mean, I’m getting harassed enough as it is already. I can’t imagine what it would be like if you had told the truth.”

“I’m still sorry anyway.” Wilhelm said softly, and Simon chuckled. “So, um, Felice told me she was visiting Bjärstad tomorrow.”

“Yeah, her and Sara have gotten close. It’s nice, you know, that Sara’s made friends. And Felice is cool.”

“Yeah, she’s great.”

There was silence again, and Wilhelm bit at his nails thinking that Simon was done with the conversation.

“Are you alright, Wille?” Simon asked after a while. “I know this is your first Christmas without Erik, and I guess things with your mum might be a little... well, I just hope you’re okay.”

Wilhelm swallowed. He could lie, pretend he was fine and wave away Simon’s concerns, but he knew the lie probably wouldn’t hold up. Or he could tell the truth and admit how painfully lonely he was, how much he hated being home because the palace felt empty without Erik and how much he longed to be with Simon with every fibre of his being.

“I’m coping.” He sighed, settling for a middle ground of vagueness. “It’s lonely here. The ceilings feel too high.”

“Have you had stuff to do?”

“No, not really. I haven’t really been in the mood for Christmas, but I guess none of us are particularly festive this year anyway.”

“Would you - I mean, if you would even be allowed to, but maybe if you could – would you want to come down here for a day?” Simon asked, and Wilhelm could just picture him fidgeting nervously as he stumbled over his words. The image brought a smile to his face.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” He answered softly. “I’ll try and convince my parents.”

+ + +

Going to Simon’s house had been an absolute no go with his parents. “Just too risky” his mother had said. However, with enough persistence, he managed to wear them down to a compromise.

That was how he ended up in a car on his way back to Hillerska the day after Boxing Day. While Simon’s house had been absolutely off the table, it would be easy enough to get back to Hillerska without being seen. The only people who were there during the break were security and the people who came to take care of the horses.

He had been worried at first that the inconvenience of it would make Simon not want to bother, but when he texted to ask if it was okay he had been met with a quick agreement.

A security guard unlocked the door for him when they arrived, sworn to secrecy of course, and he headed up to his room to wait. He didn’t realise he was biting his nails until there was a knock at the door and he was knocked out of his anxious thoughts.

The door opened slowly, and Wilhelm felt like all of the air was knocked out of his body when he saw Simon step inside, dressed in his beloved purple hoodie under the coat that he took off and draped over the back of a chair that was within reach. The door clicked shut behind him, and silence hung in the air.

“Hey.” Simon greeted finally, and Wilhelm took a deep breath as if he was just remembering how to breathe at all.

“Hey.” He echoed. “How are you?”

“Better.” Simon nodded. “Did you get into a fight with your parents?”

“Yeah, kinda.” Wilhelm muttered. “It’s fine though.”

Simon crossed the room and took a seat beside Wilhelm on the edge of the bed, a good few inches of space between them. It felt like miles.

“You look tired.” Simon commented.

“I’ve been having a hard time sleeping.” Wilhelm replied weakly, eyes downcast, fidgeting with his hands. “I get that way sometimes. It’s fine.”

“Is it?”

He looked over to find Simon watching him, and he practically crumbled under his gaze. He took a very unsteady breath and shook his head.

“No, it sucks.” He mumbled. His hand drifted back up to his mouth and he gnawed on the nail of his thumb nervously.

“Wille, you’re bleeding.” Simon said, gently grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand away from his mouth. Wilhelm looked down at his thumb and saw a bit of blood pooling in the side of the nailbed, becoming aware of the taste of it on his tongue.

“Oh, I didn’t notice.”

“How much have you been biting your nails?” Simon questioned, pulling Wilhelm’s hand towards him to get a look at them. Every nail was jagged and uneven, bitten down to stubs. The skin around them had been bitten at too.

“I don’t know, I do it without realising.” Wilhelm shrugged. “Probably a lot.” He resisted the urge to curl his fingers around Simon’s hand and blinked back the tears that threatened to fall.

“You shouldn’t have to bottle everything in, you’re destroying yourself.” Simon murmured.

“I don’t have anyone to talk to.” Wilhelm’s voice broke halfway through his sentence, a single tear managing to fight its way from his eye. “I used to be able to talk to Erik about at least some of it but now he’s gone and I don’t have anyone, and sometimes it feels like the ground is falling out from under me and I just don’t know what to do.”

He didn’t notice that he was hyperventilating until Simon pulled him into his arms. Wilhelm’s chest was tight, rising and falling rapidly against Simon’s body. Simon's arms were wrapped around him tightly, and Wilhelm was suddenly overwhelmed with how much he had been craving a hug as his hands grasped at the back of Simon’s hoodie and he hid his face in the crook of Simon’s neck.

Wilhelm had always been told not to cry. Ever since he was a child, whenever he began to cry he was told to stop. The seed had planted itself in him when he was very young, but the fear of letting himself cry didn’t truly grow until he once saw an article in a tabloid. He was barely eleven and he had fallen and hurt himself at an event. He had hardly cried, just a few tears and red cheeks, but the tabloid had had plenty to say about it. He hadn’t let himself properly cry since, except for when Erik died. Even then, he had waited until he was completely alone before he let his weakness show. But now, with Simon, he felt an overwhelming need to let his tears fall.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered into Simon’s shoulder. He could feel the tears coming out of his eyes but they weren’t falling down his face, instead absorbing into the fabric of Simon’s hoodie.

“It’s okay.” Simon soothed, a hand moving up to stroke over the Wilhelm’s hair.

“I never wanted any of this. I never wanted to be a prince.”

“I know.”

“I just wanted to feel normal. Just for once.” Wilhelm said through his tears. “You made me feel normal.”

Simon furrowed his eyebrows, sympathetic. He loosened his hold on Wilhelm and leaned back, sliding the hand that was on the back of Wilhelm’s head forward to rest against his cheek.

“You made me feel normal too.” He replied softly. “At school I was a social outcast because I’m not rich, and at home I have to take care of my mom and Sara. When I was with you, I didn’t feel like I had to take care of anyone or watch where I was stepping. Well, except that one night.” Wilhelm huffed a slight laugh at the comment, lifting a hand to wipe the tears off of his cheeks. “I’ve never seen you cry before.” Simon commented.

“I’m not supposed to.” Wilhelm replied with an awkward chuckle, his head tipping forward in embarrassment. Simon sighed through his nose and lightly touched his forehead to Wilhelm’s.

“You have to cry sometimes, Wille. Everyone cries.”

“I’m not supposed to be everyone.”

“Okay, but sometimes you need to stop worrying about what you’re supposed to be.” Simon told him. “I know you know that.”

Wilhelm took a deep breath. This close to Simon’s face, he could feel his breathing too. He wanted to kiss him, but he didn’t know if that would be okay. He nodded slightly, covering Simon’s hand on his cheek with his own.

“Yeah.” He breathed.

When Simon leaned forward and connected their lips Wilhelm responded automatically, though it took his brain a few seconds to catch up. Once his brain did catch up, his hand took hold of the back of Simon’s neck and pulled him impossibly closer, holding onto this moment like it was his last. Maybe it would be the last time he got to kiss Simon; he couldn’t know. He hoped it wouldn’t be.

“Thanks for coming to see me.” Simon said when they broke apart.

“Thanks for wanting to see me at all.” Wilhelm replied. “I really missed you.”

Simon hummed, a faint smile playing at his lips. He watched Wilhelm for a few moments before kicking off his shoes.

“Come here.” He said, shuffling over the bed towards the wall. Wilhelm followed suit and allowed himself to be guided down to a lying position, Simon’s chest against his back and arm around his waist. “You need to sleep.”

“It’s the middle of the day.” Wilhelm protested, weak as the protest may have been.

“People have naps all the time, and you know that you need it.” Simon said firmly, adjusting the pillow under his head with his free arm and finding Wilhelm's hand to hold in the other. “It doesn’t have to be for long, okay?”

“Okay.” Wilhelm nodded, feeling suddenly very relaxed. He took a deep breath settling into the comfort and warmth of Simon’s body around his as his eyes fell shut. “This is nice.” He mumbled after a while.

“Yeah.” Simon agreed softly. “Go to sleep, Wille.”

It wasn’t long until he felt Wilhelm’s breathing change, signifying that he had fallen asleep. He smiled, fondly but with an edge of sadness to it, and pressed a light kiss to Wilhelm’s shoulder before closing his own eyes. They would deal with the rest of the world when they woke up.

#young royals #young royals netflix #wilmon #wilhelm x simon #simon x wilhelm #young royals fanfic #young royals fic #simon young royals #simon eriksson #wilhelm young royals #wilmon fanfic #felice young royals

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tfwlawyers · 3 years

Note

Not me singlehandedly going through your entire parent trap au I’m so invested even though like half of the posts are from 2015 💀

THESE THINGS HAPPEN I get such a kick out of knowing this au is still making its rounds though 😭😭

and yk what just because I know I’m never going to do anything else with this, have a 3.5k attempted scramble of fic for this au I tried writing back also in 2015. i was even less of a writer back then than I am now so it’s absolutely terrible but have at thee

“Oh, wait...” Trucy winced and tapped her earring. Apollo’s eyes widened in realization. “Looks like we have one more thing to do tonight - it’ll be super quick, I promise.”

“Oh no,” Apollo said, visibly paling, “there’s no way you’re doing that to me-”

“Then cutting my hair was a total waste,” Trucy huffed, tugging at a newly shorn lock, “because there’s no way I can go to camp with pierced ears and come home without. Come on, Polly, where’s your sense of adventure? It’s just one little pinch!”

“Just one?” he asked hesitantly, eyes now trained on the sharp needle laying on the table.

Trucy paused. “Well... I guess it’s technically two. I really only wear the one earring, but both my ears are pierced.”

Apollo sighed. “Great.”

“Nah, I got this,” Trucy said, grinning toothily. “I went with Aunt Maya when she wanted to get hers pierced, even though she chickened out at the last second.” She picked up the needle and a book of matches from the table, eyes glinting. “I had to get mine repierced because of infection the first time too. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

“Put that apple slice back,” Apollo said, narrowing his eyes at the piece of fruit in Trucy’s hands. “They’re acidic, I don’t need that anywhere near me and oh God you’re really going to shove a piece of metal into my ear, aren’t you-”

“You sure I look okay?” he asked, patting down the skirt. He squinted down at the stark white boots he’d thankfully fit into. “I’m terrified to walk in these, they look like death traps -”

“Which is why we’re practicing,” Trucy said primly, wiping her hands on a gel-stained rag. She still didn’t quite have a grasp on the correct ratio of product to actual hair, but she was much better than when they had started five weeks ago. “Now, walk towards me.”

“One last thing, I guess,” Apollo said, removing his bracelet and handing it to Trucy, watching as she carefully slid it on. He rubbed his now bare wrist absentmindedly, feeling strangely naked without it.

“So... this is really it. We’re really doing this.”

“We’re really doing this,” Trucy confirmed, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. For all her apparent enthusiasm, she looked as nervous as he felt. The studs in her ears reflected the morning light.

“Give papa a hug for me,” he said, smiling weakly.

“Give daddy one for me too,” she said.

They hesitated a moment more before Trucy threw her arms around her brother’s shoulders. Apollo’s arms immediately snaked around her waist, drawing her in tight. They clung to each other, silently willing and praying this was somehow going to all work out - that they wouldn’t just to get to meet their other parent, that they wouldn’t only get a few short weeks with the other father they hadn’t even known had existed, but that they could find some way to reconcile the two, that they wouldn’t have to lose anyone across the wide expanse of the Atlantic ever again.

“You’ve had your ears pierced,” he said almost absently, cradling her head between his hands and gently turning her neck back and forth to better view the studs. He clicked his tongue. Trucy felt her heart sink.

“Do you... hate them?” she asked tentatively.

Edgeworth’s eyes snapped to hers. They were the same soft gray color as the paint Daddy always kept too much of around the house. “On the contrary - I find they suit you incredibly well. Please tell me you didn’t get an infection.”

Her face split into a wide smile.

Apollo thumbed through a stack of canvases that had been shoved into a corner. There was a thin layer of dust of them; if he had to guess, he’d say they hadn’t been disturbed for at least three months - not a particularly long stretch of time, all things considered. They were clearly less polished works, lacking the technical skill and attention to detail that made Phoenix Wright a name to be reckoned with in the art community, but they were still beautiful in their own way. Paintings of vineyards and what looked like London, towering skyscrapers and calm seas and -

His father.

Apollo blinked.

The portrait of Miles Edgeworth drawn in rich oils did not blink back. Nor did the three that followed.

“There were a lot of paintings of the same person in daddy’s works. Some guy with grey hair,” Apollo said, struggling for nonchalance.

Maya’s grip on the mixing bowl faltered. “Is that so,” she said carefully.

“Was he one of daddy’s favorite models or something he just never told me about?”

Maya pursed her lips and continued stirring with a newfound vigor. “You could say that.”

“You’re not Apollo?” he asked, voice thick. “You’re Trucy?”

She smiled weakly. “That would be correct.” One strand of hair fell lank across her forehead - how did I not notice, Apollo hasn’t used nearly that much gel in years - and he absentmindedly tucked it behind her ear. He felt her press into the warmth of his hand, as if she were afraid he might suddenly vanish across the Atlantic again.

“I hope you don’t - I hope you don’t hate me,” she said, voice beginning to waver, “it’s just that Polly and I met at the camp and the whole thing sort of just spilled out. I’ve wanted to see you for so long, and Polly felt exactly the same way about Daddy, so we sort of just - just switched lives and hoped it wouldn’t take you so soon to notice. I really hope you don’t hate me, because I’ve wanted to meet you basically my whole life and I hope that maybe one day you can love me for me and not Polly and -” (this is ALL from movie tho so mix this up)

Edgeworth’s left hand came to cradle the rest of Trucy’s face, cutting her off mid-sentence. “Oh, my dear,” he said, cautiously tugging her forward. She came willingly, all but sprawling across his chest, tucking her head underneath his chin and wrapping her arms around his middle. “I’ve loved you since the day you came to me,” he whispered into her hair, blinking away the beginnings of tears he felt gathering at the corner of his eyes. He felt her tighten her hold and he did the same.

He poured himself a thumbnail of scotch, perfectly content to pretend he didn’t have tickets to a plane back to a state he had vowed never to set foot in again departing in less than four hours. “He was rather handsome,” he found himself admitting, absentmindedly swirling the glass and taking a sip. He paused, staring at nothing and mumbling to himself, “...had the most crooked smile. Always made me weak at the knees.”

“What was that, sir?”

Edgeworth snapped his attention back to the other man; he’d nearly forgotten Gumshoe was even in the room. “Nothing, nothing, never mind, have you seen the tickets?”

Gumshoe shrugged. That was Trucy’s cue.

“Almost ready, papa?” she asked, stepping smoothly into the room from her hiding place behind the thick wooden door. Edgeworth looked just as wild-eyed as she’d been hoping.

“Yes, of course, I’m almost finished packing -”

She didn’t even have to look at his still mostly bare suitcase to know he was lying.

“ -and you did tell your father we were coming, didn’t you?” he finished, placing his drink on a nearby dresser and running his fingers shakily through his hair.

“Absolutely,” Trucy promised.

“Ah,” Edgeworth said, fiddling with his waistcoat buttons. They looked like they’d been polished recently.

“Liar,” Gumshoe leaned down to whisper. She shushed him.

“Might I suggest we continue this little gathering inside,” Maya said, already beginning to shepherd the twins - the twins, she was going to need another vacation just to process the fact that they were together again - into the room. She twisted back around to look at Edgeworth, still shoving Apollo (that was Apollo, right?) forward. “Hi,” she began again, offering a free hand, “you probably don’t remember me -”

“Maya!” he interrupted, smiling warmly and bending to kiss her chastely on the cheek. His breath was sour with vodka and his glasses clunked awkwardly against her face. As he turned and stepped fully into the room, Maya’s cheeks(rp) began to hurt from smiling so fiercely.

“I knew I always liked him,” she said to no one as she closed the door.

This was ridiculous. This resort was full of entirely too many people who favored the same sort of eccentric clothing that man had even fourteen years ago, a disproportionate amount of them with the same slate grey hair. He almost would have written that (awkward*) expression seen from across Dahlia’s shoulder/a hotel lobby as a figment of his overtaxed imagination had it not been so much realer than the stacks of canvases in his studio. Which meant Miles was here, but he’d swept the first level of the hotel twice already after begging Dahlia to take to her room for a bit, the pool area was as depressingly empty as the inside was, and -

There he was.

Across the pool, descending the steps carefully from the inside lounge area and walking on the balls of his feet like he always did when he’d had a bit too much to drink (and why did he still remember that) was, without a doubt, Miles Edgeworth.

Phoenix suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

Edgeworth was halfway down the opposite path before Phoenix realized he should probably do something.

“Excuse me,” he said, shouldering his way through the crowd. It would be rude and more than a little intrusive to just call out his ex-husband’s name in the middle of a resort, right? Perhaps not as rude as nearly shoving the poor bellboy into the shrubbery, but, well, desperate times called for desperate measures.

He didn’t immediately notice the odd assortment of friends and family and a lumbering man in striped green swimming trunks perched on pool chairs as he stepped past, but they certainly noticed him.

“Daddy, are you okay?” Trucy asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said vaguely, refusing to take his eyes off Edgeworth. He was abruptly terrified he might vanish again if he did.

“Nick, watch out -”

“Hey, pal -”

“Daddy -”

With that, Phoenix collided into a passing service boy, arms pinwheeling wildly as he fell directly into the pool behind him.

“Hello Miles,” he said, smiling sheepishly and wringing out his tie. He fought the urge to rub the back of his neck and settled for clenching his hands into tight fists instead. “Or do you people call you Edgeworth now?”

“Miles is - Miles is fine,” Edgeworth said weakly, trying to look anywhere but Phoenix, as if this was a perfectly normal conversation they should be having for the first time after fifteen years. “My father still calls me Miles.”

Something warm coiled in his chest. It felt infinitely more dangerous than it had fifteen years ago.

“You always had a smart mouth,” he murmured, rubbing a swathe of cleaning ointment along the cut on Phoenix’s forehead. Phoenix hissed.

“So glad you remembered,” he bit through gritted teeth.

“Hush.”

Phoenix hmmed but stayed silent for a few more seconds, staring at Edgeworth as he dug back into the first aid kit. Edgeworth tried not to flush under the scrutiny.

Phoenix held his wrist in a loose grip. He should have felt clammy from the pool and the rapidly descending night, but he blazed oddly hot against Edgeworth’s skin.

“Miles, I-”

“Feenie? Who is this?”

“Dollie!” Phoenix said, shooting upright and wincing at the sudden dizziness.

Edgeworth’s burgundy coat was hung carefully over his arm, too thick for the warm California night. The buttons on his waistcoat glinted from a nearby streetlamp’s glow.

Phoenix swallowed.

“Do you have any idea where they’re taking us?” Edgeworth asked, leaning in slightly. Phoenix’s (nose twitched? something about scent memory?) and he refused to let himself acknowledge that Miles’s choice of aftershave hadn’t changed since the day they’d met. He abruptly remembered the taste of cheap wine and overly sweet cake on his tongue, felt the ghost weight of a ring fifteen years gone.

He hastily turned away.

“No idea.”

“Grandfather chipped in a bit -”

“Apollo,” Edgeworth warned.

“Alright, so Grandfather chipped in a lot, whatever, we’re poor teenagers, the point is,” he said, emphasizing the final word by pulling the ship’s impressive doors open with a firm tug, “it’s ours for the night.”

Phoenix whistled shrilly in appreciation, instinctively reaching out to ruffle Apollo’s hair. It was a testament to how important the night was that Apollo merely batted Phoenix’s hand away. “Seriously, dad,” he mumbled. His scowl was clearly forced, however; he felt oddly warm that he was able to finally use that word at all.

“Subtle,” Phoenix remarked.

“Mm,” Edgeworth agreed. “I don’t suppose we should let their efforts, however misguided they may be, go to waste, should we?”

“You just want to know who else they roped into this ridiculous scheme of theirs.”

“Oh, because you don’t.”

“I,” Phoenix said, moving to the chilled champagne propped by the windowsill and popping its cork, “have a perfectly healthy level of curiosity. It does not involve wondering what’s going on in my kid’s head. Trucy is a teenager. That’s terrifying.” He carefully poured the sparkling drink into two glasses and offered one to Edgeworth.

“I find that somewhat difficult to believe,” Edgeworth said, striding forward and taking the proffered glass. He made certain their fingers did not brush. “Thank you.”

They waited until she had hastily bowed out of the room before turning their focus back to each other. “Miles, that’s why we came up with this arrangement in the first place,” Phoenix continued, nonplussed.

“Really?” Edgeworth carefully picked up his glass flute, trying to ignore the tremor he felt running through his hands. “I thought it was because we’d agreed to never see each other again.”

Phoenix’s heart clenched. “Not ‘we’, Miles,” he said slowly, spreading his hands on the tablecloth and feeling like if he missed a step here, he would risk something he couldn’t afford to lose again.

Edgeworth took a shaky draw of wine. “You know,” he said slowly, seemingly forcing himself to meet Phoenix’s eyes, “that part is unclear to me as well.”

“Oh, you don’t remember the day you packed?” Phoenix asked.

“No, I remember that day perfectly. Did I hurt you when I threw that - oh God, what was it -”

“It was Kamisar’s Modern Criminal Procedure. It left a dent in the wall from where it rebounded off my head.”

“Oh,” Edgeworth said, at least having the grace to look properly abashed. “Right. Sorry.”

Phoenix shrugged. “It’s not like I was making it that easy on you.

And....” Edgeworth trailed off, twisting a napkin between his fingers. “You didn’t chase after me.”

Phoenix felt (something) shift. “I didn’t know that you wanted me to.”

“A toast to -”

“Our children,” Edgeworth cut in. He ignored the tightening in his chest at the our.

“Our children,” Phoenix repeated slowly, as if the words didn’t quite match with what his mouth had wanted to say.

“We both got where we actually wanted to go.”

Phoenix’s eyes never wavered from his. “We did,” he said, voice strange.

They toasted again and finished their meal in silence.

“Apollo, what are you doing in those clothes? We’ve got a plane to catch.”

“We’re getting totally ripped off,” maybe-Trucy said. “Daddy said we’d get our camping trip and we want to go.”

“Wait, hang on,” Phoenix interrupted, “what camping trip?”

“The one Aunt Maya and I make you take us on every year before school starts,” almost-definitely-Trucy said. Phoenix began to lift his finger in triumph, sure he’d found his kid -

“ -the one behind the house that runs all the way up to Gourd Lake, remember when you fell in that one year,” I’m-not-too-sure-if-this-one-is-still-in-fact-Apollo finished.

Phoenix’s arm fell listlessly to his side. Edgeworth snorted.

Phoenix shot Edgeworth a look. Thanks for helping, one of these is yours. “This is entirely unfunny, you’re going to make your father miss his flight,” he said, shifting his attention back to the twins. Honestly, he was an Ivy University graduate and Miles was a world renowned defense attorney, how were they being duped by their own kids -

“Apollo -” Edgeworth began.

“Yes?” they both said in unison.

Edgeworth groaned. “They get this from you, I’m sure,” he said.

“It’s not my fault you’ve apparently been raising a devilishly deceptive teenager,” Phoenix quipped back, never taking his eyes off the twins. He could feel the beginnings of a migraine pound at the base of his neck. “He’s probably rubbed off on Trucy.”

The twins grinned.

Phoenix rubbed a hand over his eyes before stooping to their height once again. He stared hard at each of them, looking back and forth between their faces. “This one’s Trucy,” he said slowly, pointing a finger to the sibling in orange. “I’m positive.”

“You know, I hope you’re right, Daddy. You wouldn’t want to send the wrong kid all the way back to Germany - ”

“ - would you?”

How was any of this fair?

“Here’s our proposition. We go back to Daddy’s house, pack our stuff, and the four of us leave on the camping trip.”

“The four of us?” Edgeworth interjected. They ignored him.

“And when you bring us back,” maybe-Trucy-maybe-Apollo continued, “we’ll tell you who’s Trucy and who’s Apollo.”

“Or,” Edgeworth said, carefully stepping around and in front of Phoenix and crossing his arms firmly across his chest, tapping his finger rhythmically against his arm, “new plan. I take one of you back to Germany with me whether you like it or not.”

Two identical sets of eyes twinkled back at him.

(He felt a migraine beginning to pound in his left temple.)

“You can cook now?” Edgeworth asked.

“Oh yeah,” Phoenix said. “I can make pasta. And pasta. Probably more pasta, if you ask really nicely.”

“Hm,” Edgeworth said, eyebrows scrunched in mock thought, “pasta sounds good.”

Phoenix grinned, bumping Edgeworth’s shoulder. He was warm through the cotton. “Pasta it is.”

Edgeworth looked across the seat at Apollo. His glassy eyes reflected the flickering street lamps as the taxi sped down the empty street.

“Apollo, I -” he began, deflating as Apollo turned further away. It’s entirely justified, he thought despondently. I’d hate myself as well.

“Grandfather?” Apollo called, shrugging out of his heavy jacket and hanging it on the coat rack. The house was silent.

“I’ll check the study,” Edgeworth said, tugging his jabot loose. Apollo nodded and headed towards the direction of the kitchen, toeing off his shoes on the way. Pushing open the wide doors that led to the study, Edgeworth saw someone reading a paper at the desk. He cocked his hip against the door and crossed his arms. “Hello, father. We’re back.”

The newspaper lowered. It wasn’t Gregory.

“Hiya, papa,” Trucy said. The corners of her mouth were quirked despite her obvious attempts to reign in her expression. “Did you know the Concord gets you here in half the time?”

Edgeworth slipped against the doorframe. He felt the knob dig into his hip. “I - yes, I’ve heard that.”

(Edgeworth was acutely aware of the doorknob digging into his hip from when he pressed against it. “I - yes, I’ve heard that.”)

Apollo walked into the room, drawn to the sound of voices. When he saw Trucy his face split into a blinding grin. “What are you doing here?”

Trucy neatly folded the newspaper on the desk and clasped her hands in front of her. “It took us about thirty seconds after you left that we decided we didn’t want to lose you two again,” she said, eyes crinkling.

Edgeworth swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. “We?” he said, voice cracking.

“We,” a new voice agreed.

From the corner of his eye, Edgeworth noted Trucy moving to stand by the far wall of the study, giving the vaguest attempt of privacy. It didn’t matter. His eyes were trained on Phoenix, tracking his movement as he crossed the room.

Phoenix peppered his face in light kisses, smiling into the curve of his throat and pressing his lips to the thrumming heartbeat beneath his skin.

They eventually pulled back, desperate for air. Phoenix’s eyes crinkled - crow’s feet, Edgeworth thought wildly through his haze, he’s got crow’s feet now, I haven’t seen him this close up since - and he rested his forehead against Edgeworth’s.

“God, I’m never letting you go again,” he whispered, hands snaking around the other man’s back to pull him even closer.

“You want to toast with this? I’d have thought you might want to upgrade to something with a little more class.”

Phoenix smiled sloppily, pressing a chaste kiss to his temple. “You’re the only one I said I’d drink it with, remember?”

Edgeworth smiled back. He took the proffered bottle warmed by the weather and tugged his husband into a proper kiss, matching rings glinting in the dying sunlight.

#bluefaewren #replies #parent trap au #attempting to write tag

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notchesandbullets · 3 years

Text

Wherever You Go, I Will Follow (Boxer! Metal Arm! Bakugou x Reader) Underground!AU

Art credit: @/helloclonion on Instagram

Warnings: violence, drinking (everyone is of age), hints of ptsd and depression, mentions of cloning norms, angst but fluffy ending.

Synopsis: Bakugou doesn’t like to talk about what happened to his left arm. Years of fighting underground had made him harder than nails. Society was messed up. Children weren’t born, they were made and any who aren’t adopted are raised in mass orphanages. But you’re special. And you’ve chosen the light even though you’ve seen the darkness. Who else to get through to his heart other than someone like you?

Words: 7.8k

The lights blind you momentarily as they flashed on. The humidity in such a crowded space packed with people was making your skin crawl but it was worth it for the greatly anticipated show.

An underground arena that had this much hype was rare since most fighters didn’t make it past their 20s due to injuries so severe from boxing that it cost them their lives.

There were zero qualified doctors here in the society riddled with old factories that didn't exist anymore and sleazy underground cities where nothing could grow anymore due to the pollution. It had fallen to ruin and only a select handful that could heal like they claimed to.

Due to that little insignificant fact, that meant the expected lifespan of everyone down here wasn’t more than 30 years of age.

Of course, it varied from section to section, but there was enough pattern to know that there wasn’t long to live once you got to your teens.

Therefore, everyone lived fast and hard down here, trying to experience as much as they could before it was their time to go.

And while you couldn’t say that you blamed them, that wasn’t how you wanted to live. You wanted to fight back against the norm and make a difference that would change this world.

Which is why you were so interested in this particular fighter.

Bakugou Katsuki.

A reformed individual with a criminal record after a looting with his crew went sideways. He was stronger than most with an attitude and ego bigger than the city itself.

He was renowned to be one of the baddest in the underground and had a personality as difficult as a cloned Siberian tiger.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. You didn’t know why Mic couldn’t come scout today instead of you, you hated how jam packed Bakugou’s fights got, which is why you always steered clear of them.

Well, that and because you weren’t exactly partial to his famed temper.

Then, the glint of metal had you on the edge of your seat, eyes sparkling with curiosity as you caught a better look the second time around as he stomped into the ring.

Was that… a metal arm?

It looked like something straight out of Marvel’s Winter Soldier from back in the day. Scarily so.

You faintly recalled that his opponent’s name was Shindou, supposedly the underground’s upcoming rising star to the top. His undefeated reputation preceded him and he certainly was easy on the eyes.

So why did you find your gaze drawn to the arrogant boxer with a cocky smirk on his face across from the guy that was cuter than him?

Metal arm flexing, sweat dripped down his brow, his crimson eyes narrowed in concentration and tinged with a hint of malice as his much larger rival took a swing at him to kick off the round.

Bakugou blocked it head on, retaliating with a force that sent him spiraling towards the cage. His wrapped hands were crusted with blood and he hastily brushed the dirtied, spiky hair that fell into his eyes out of his face, a ravenous hunger coming through as he bounced on the balls of his feet.

“Is that all you fucking got, extra?!” He screamed in Shindou’s face and you actually had to cover your ears at the sheer volume that carried through the stadium, egging him on.

Your mouth dried as Bakugou caught him across the jaw the second he flew at him, knocking out his opponent in one go, calling the match in under thirty seconds flat.

Holy shit, he’s good. You thought to yourself, thoroughly impressed, barely able to hear yourself over the crowd’s roar as Bakugou punched his fist in the air victoriously.

His technique seemed rough to the naked eye but taking a closer look, his form and tactics were flawless. His overall strategy could use a little work, since he seemed particularly keen on using brute strength, but he was really good at turning the tables on his opponent in an instant.

And really good at making sure that they couldn’t get up again after he threw them down.

You had your share of good fighters. Not like that, you dirty minded creature, you were a scout for your father’s gym.

Aizawa wasn’t a revered name by any means, but that didn’t mean he lacked skill. He was the one who could take down more people than any other pro could, but he absolutely hated media attention. Hence why almost no one knew of his abilities, other than a select few of his colleagues and fellow fighters.

And you of course. You were so incredibly proud of your him.

He had recently been scouting new talent after taking in several kids: Shinsou, Todoroki and Midoriya.

The female boxers in his ring were a literal force to be reckoned with. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen someone pack a punch with as much power as Uraraka when she got serious. And no one could beat Yaoyorozu when they stepped in the same arena as her.

In the underground, it was normal to come across those that talked big, but rarely have you ever seen them deliver.

This guy had some raw talent. Perfect.

Looks like Uncle Hizashi’s instinct was right.

After the fights ended and the exciting night came to a close, you wormed your way through the rows of people lining up to claim their bets that they had placed at the beginning of the night. You were at least smart enough not to get sucked into all that.

A cage match had too many variables. The odds could change in a split second, no matter how good or bad the fighter was. And since there were no rules, anybody could win.

You found the boxer in the designated fighters’ alcove security had put there especially for them to wind down. Here, they would be hidden away from the crowd and only the fighters knew about this spot aside from those that protected it.

“You’re good.”

Bakugou snorted, not looking up at the sound of your voice as he continued to unwrap the tape from his hands. “Of course I am, dumbass.”

You cocked an eyebrow at his arrogant attitude but after a fight like that, you guessed the pride was well deserved. After all, the guy he went up against was undefeated. No one had beat him and after Shindou earned his reputation of tearing the limbs off of the fighters he faced, no one wanted to step into the ring with him after that.

But Bakugou didn’t back away, even going so far as to taunt this guy, boldly proclaiming that he’d beat him.

Normally, you would brush off those guys as no good but he made good on what he said he would do, so you were at least a little bit curious.

A little.

You still didn’t like his attitude though.

Tossing the bloodied wraps in his bag, he ignored you as you just stood there like a lost puppy. People like you didn’t belong in the underground.

Soft.

Bakugou scowled and huffed scornfully, throwing his bandages down with a little more force than necessary.

Patching up wasn’t too bad this time around. He was lucky the round ended when it did though, that fucking extra had too much boisterous energy and willpower that had carried him this far. Still, it was better than fighting bare-knuckled.

There was a time when wraps or gloves weren’t allowed. People liked the blood and violence, and craved someone to come out victorious by taking the other’s life.

Fucking sickos if anyone asked him.

Bakugou slung his gym bag over his shoulder and shouldered his way past you since you had yet to say a word after that initial, begrudging praise. He couldn’t care less if you hung around but he wasn’t going to stick around for the damn media to catch whiff of this fight.

Once it was leaked that he had won, they would take a percentage of his cut and he would have to go without food for another week just to pay rent on that shitty place he stayed at.

It wasn’t much but it was better than the streets.

“Wait.” You called out, inwardly chastising yourself for being so pathetic.

You weren’t star-struck or nothing, so why were you feeling so tongue-tied?

Taking a deep breath when he snapped his head around to glare at you in annoyance for stopping him, you rolled your eyes when he tapped his foot impatiently.

“You gonna take all fucking night, extra?” Bakugou barked at you, clearly not playing around.

Your eyes widened as the metal plates on his left arm clinked together as he raised up his fist threateningly.

“I’ve got places to go and shit to do.” He grumbled. “So if you’re just going to stand there like a fucking—”

“Do you want to be a part of Aizawa’s gym?” You blurted out before he could get too carried away on his rant.

Bakugou arched an eyebrow in surprise. He hadn’t been expecting that. It was rare that the scruffy old man took on recruits.

Huffing, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and scrutinized you. “Who the hell are you?”

You cringed at how rough his voice laced with suspicion came out but you supposed you could understand.

Collectors were far too common these days, usually rich scouts from corporations that searched for talented fighters to partake in their financial war when it turned bloody.

You weren’t really sure how it was possible for those airheads to train delinquents into soldiers for their military to fight in the wars that they created, but all you were really concerned about was dodging those scouts.

They weren’t people to trifle with.

Bakugou’s suspicions were misplaced this time around though and you jutted out your hip, planting your hand on it as you regarded him disinterestedly.

There was only one thing that you could say to get him to trust you.

“He’s my dad.” You said quietly.

The boxer nearly choked on air and you flashed him a cheeky grin when he whipped his head around to glare at you.

“Fuck, seriously?”

You nodded and a heavy exhale whooshed out of his lungs in one breath.

Bakugou cocked up an eyebrow, seeing you in a completely different light. “Holy shit.”

You resisted the urge to dash away under his intrigue but you flinched when his eyes landed on you again.

“Sorry.” Bakugou muttered, averting his eyes. “Just never seen one before.”

You scratched the back of your neck, a habit you picked up from your introverted father whenever he was put in uncomfortable situations. “Yeah…”

Children weren’t born anymore, it was illegal. Partly because expenses couldn’t be covered if people got pregnant and partly because the kids would have nowhere to go, but mostly because the government wanted a controlled population.

By controlling the gene pool, they could create whoever and whomever they chose, placing them in different status’ around the world to fill in the gaps and create the perfect society.

Except, it really wasn’t all that perfect.

You had been a product of your mom and dad’s unconditional love for each other, something else that was also forbidden, especially in the underground cities where disease ran rampant and claimed numerous innocent lives everyday.

Your mother wasn’t dead but she did have to leave soon after you were born to protect you from the government officials that would come if she stayed.

Your dad was heartbroken but once every three years, the three of you were reunited under the bridge where seagulls cried and the waves crashed upon the shore.

Once upon a time.

Bakugou crossed his arms over his chest, his bicep bulging and you were willing to wager that he specifically got those measurements for his metal arm tailored to those specifications just so his huge muscles were distractingly the same size.

He was still not entirely convinced you were who you said you were. He knew that you had to at least be a bastard’s biological child, no one was bold enough or fucking stupid to say that much out loud, but he still wasn’t sure that the old man was your dad.

Not bothering to be discreet as he eyed you up and down, he motioned for you to give him a little more information.

“Aizawa, huh?” Bakugou drawled. “You don’t fucking look like a brat that belongs to him.”

Clearing your throat, you smirked. Now you were the one tapping your foot impatiently. “Thanks, I’m told I have my mother’s eyes.”

He glared at your sarcasm but you didn’t care.

Craning your neck to the side to get a better look at that beautiful arm of his, you pouted when he ducked out of range.

“Prove that he’s your dad.” He demanded and you feigned innocence before shooting him a grin when he rolled his eyes irritably.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you responded cheekily, “Coffee and cats are his two favorite things in the world, and he only tolerates Uncle Hizashi on a whim when he’s wasted.”

Bakugou barked out laughing and you smiled at the boisterous sound escaping from his lungs.

“So,” You kicked your feet, scuffing the dirt as you sidled over to him. “You in or what?”

His left arm glinted in the dim, flickering light of the alcove and he tucked in his chin the slightest bit to stare down at you, the corner of his mouth quirked up.

“Hell yeah.”

Exactly one year later, you were weaving in between the clustered bodies in the dingy underground bar you were at to make your way to the obnoxious and rowdy group in the back, all while balancing a tray of beers in one hand.

They had just arrived a few minutes ago, eagerly chatting with your dad, who was their trainer, even though he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else but here.

Your skirt flared around your ankles as you sashayed through the crowd dancing on the dancefloor, a couple strands of hair sticking to your forehead from the exertion of how many tables you waited on already.

“First round’s here!!” You announced, beaming brightly at the packed group of 15.

Shoji, Mineta, and a few others couldn’t make it due to conflicting schedules. But it was alright, they would come again another time. Besides, you were quite sure that a special someone couldn’t care less if they made it or not for this particular day.

“YES!!” Kaminari shouted escatically, throwing his hands up in the air.

A chorus of “thank you’s” came from the girls as Ashido eagerly reached for her first drink of the night, downing half the bottle in one go. You predicted she was going to be out like a light within the hour if she kept that pace up.

“Don’t get shitfaced, Kaminari.” Jirou twirled a strand of her dark hair cockily as she teasingly held the last one out of arm’s reach. “Lightweight.”

“Jirou!!” Kaminari protested while the table burst into laughter.

The edgy fighter eventually gave into him, shaking her head in disapproval when he proceeded to chug all of it straight like it was some kind of shot. A knowing smirk appeared on her face when he choked.

“Told you so.” She rubbed in his face as Asui leaned into her side.

“Shut up!!” Kaminari shouted between violent bouts of coughing. It only got worse when Ashido slapped his back, already drunk.

But the slight pink dusted across his cheeks clued you in on what he was really doing.

You shook your head. If he was any more dense, you would’ve smacked him upside the head. Maybe then he would’ve come to his senses and that he didn’t need to do all these things to impress her.

Jirou never hated anything more than someone who felt fake to her.

As you distributed the rest of the drinks to a clueless Todoroki, a way too eager Midoriya, and handed water to Koda, who thanked you shyly with a small nod.

You smiled at him, then left to the bar that your uncle was managing to get the order for the next table while Iida shouted for everyone to make sure they drank responsibly so that they didn’t cause any problems for you.

But it was largely ignored in favor of raising their beers in a toast for the birthday boy.

Bakugou scowled in the corner that he was shoved into, wondering why he of all people had to be dragged to this shitty celebration for a birthday he couldn’t care less about. It was too loud here and it was making his head hurt. The only consolation he got was that you were a rare sight, wearing a dress that he had bought for you a week ago.

The seamstress who had made it for him specifically had charged him an incredible amount of money for it, since fabric of any kind that wasn’t made from recycled garbage liners was nearly impossible to come by.

But being a part of the ring of fighters that made up Aizawa’s Warriors gave him credibility and enabled him to make even more money than he did before, so it wasn’t a problem.

That much.

After rent on his rundown place and scrounging for food, he had saved up the rest for weeks before he was able to afford the pale blue satin dress edged with delicate white lace around the sleeves that cascaded off your shoulders. The tightly-fitted bodice that wrapped around your waist was a simple leather corset, accentuating those curves of yours more than should be legally allowed.

You looked absolutely delicious.

You continued to sweep around the tavern, oblivious to the looks you were getting. You had a bit of expertise in waitressing due to the lack of income your dad was able to provide so you had to convince him that you really didn’t mind helping out with the staff tonight.

The bar, owned by your Uncle Hizashi, a retired fighter but not retired in spirit, had all the profits go to the orphanages the city couldn’t keep track of or be bothered to pay for; which enabled those kids who were abandoned to have a roof over their heads in all the uncertainty.

The state of those houses holding those homeless children were horrendous.

But your dad and uncle were taking steps to create something new that would provide them with some relief and a new family.

Kirishima clapped the ash-blond on the shoulder, jarring him out of his annoyance. “Come on, Bakugou, loosen up!!”

He clicked his tongue and scowled at the red-haired guy’s energy. No one would think that this fun-loving guy and people person would be such a terrifying fighter in the arena.

Kirishima frowned when he noticed his lack of enthusiasm. “C’mon man, I know this isn’t your scene but Y/N worked really hard on this.”

Bakugou’s drink nearly spilled as he set it down abruptly. He wasn’t expecting that. Aizawa had told him that his friends had arranged this.

Picking up on his confusion, Kirishima then proceeded to tell him about how you gathered everybody to ask if they’d be willing to attend the party and how all of them enthusiastically said yes. You had gotten special permission from your Uncle Hizashi to borrow the VIP section of his bar and convinced your father to go easy on their training today.

Really, the grumpy man with the metal arm should be thanking you since you were the reason all of them weren’t sore to death with barely enough energy to keep their heads up.

Kirishima was going to blame it on Aizawa. He was tough on them. Too tough. No one should be that determined to make their students push past their limits but everyone knew it came from him caring more than anyone else.

They were all like his adopted children, in a weird, skewed way. But, no one was going to argue against it. None of them had their biological parents in the picture.

Besides, Aizawa had enough room for them all to crash in his home. An abandoned mansion overrun with thick green vines but had no working electricity whatsoever looked like something straight out of one of those old horror movies back in the 3000s.

Bakugou scoffed. Like hell should he care about whether or not you planned this. He didn’t ask you to do any of this, you decided to do it all on your own.

“Whatever.” He grumbled, snatching his bottle before stalking away from his shocked friends left in the dust.

Todoroki raised an eyebrow as Kirishima sighed and Midoriya’s expression saddened when he saw him leave. They were supposed to be celebrating…

And yet, all three of them knew why today was so hard for the explosive boxer.

You frowned as you noticed the slumped figure retreating to the back of the establishment. Finishing up serving the drinks for the table you were waiting on, you briefly made a detour to your uncle and asked if it was alright that you take a break.

Ever the doting uncle who loved to spoil you rotten, Mic’s eyes softened understandingly when he noticed who you were staring after and granted you permission.

“Just don’t tell your dad I let you off the hook.” He bargained with an exaggerated wink and you giggled.

“I won’t.” You reassured, setting down the tray and squeezing his hand in thanks.

Then, you followed Bakugou.

He disappeared around the corner and as soon as you tailed him, you came to a stop in front of a heavy door. Your brow furrowed, wondering why he would be coming here.

Step after familiar step you took until you eventually came to a standstill on the roof.

Behind you, the heavy door slammed close but it sounded different than usual. Something metal crashed into it, denting it by the sounds of it, and it wasn’t until you turned around that you found Bakugou’s vermilion eyes boring into yours.

The wind was stronger up here and you pinned your arms down to your side, knowing full well from experience how mortifying it would be if your skirt decided to flip up right now.

“What the fuck are you doing up here?” He snapped angrily.

To his surprise, you didn’t look the least bit fazed by his outburst.

“I live here.” You responded nonchalantly, undeterred by his characteristic abrasiveness.

If Bakugou was startled at that revelation, he didn’t show it. If anything, he looked even more irked, though you didn’t know why. He didn’t have any reason to suspect you of lying but in this world, it was safer to be skeptical than sorry.

However, you hadn’t given him one reason to doubt you the entire year you’ve known him. Not one.

So if anything, he trusted you more than the majority of the rats in his rundown city and just as much as his small circle of extras.

Picking your way past him carefully since the roof didn’t have a safety rail, you made your way towards the curtained tent hiding behind the generator. Pushing the tattered material back, you showed him the bedroll and small table set up with a few bottles of water, a case of beer and a worn book.

Bakugou’s mouth dropped open but he recovered quickly so by the time you turned back around, he had the same indifferent, kind of irritated look on his face.

Then, he was a bit at a loss of what to do. It wasn’t often he was faced with the dilemma of being wrong so blatantly. Should he apologize? Even when he didn’t say anything but the thought that you were crazy ran through his head? Should he apologize for something you weren’t even aware of?

Nah, fuck that.

You gingerly took a seat at the edge of the roof, leaning back on your hands as your legs dangled. Patting the spot next to you invitingly, a soft smile curved on the corners of your mouth as he grumbled but came over anyway. He plopped down on your right side and you took a moment to study him.

He looked exhausted, spirit whittled down to the bone until there was nothing left for him to salvage. His eyes were bloodshot and the beer bottle in his hand probably wasn’t doing any favors for him.

Glancing at him out of the corner of your eyes, you asked worriedly, “You okay?”

He huffed in annoyance at your question.

“Fine.” He ground out through clenched teeth and you shut your mouth.

Bakugou clearly wasn’t looking to talk but you yearned to help. You wanted to be there for him.

Kirishima hadn’t told you much, only that the incident that took Bakugou’s arm happened a long time ago and wasn’t something he liked to relive.

You didn’t push it. You had your own share of traumatic experiences in this god-forsaken place and hated nothing more than being forced to talk about by a well meaning friend. So you understood it well.

Instead of pushing the topic, you sat with him in silence. You didn’t ask why he walked away from the party or why it looked like he was drowning himself in his sorrows to forget something, you just offered him a quiet place to sit, with the company of yours truly.

Fate was flawed. You knew that ever since you were born.

The warped sense of justice that the city had was suffocating. People were put away in prison only to be left to rot with no chance of redemption. Those that made it out were casted out to the underground with no hope to see the light.

Combatants-for-hire wasn’t an unusual job to take on in the ruined city. All Might knew you too had been mixed up in some shit.

But it was what made you strong in the end.

“I’m here.” Was all you said softly, staring out at the city lights that were especially illuminating tonight.

Thanks to the heavy pollution, the stars could no longer be seen with the naked eye so this was the closest thing you could get to those twinkling lights raised high in the sky.

“It’s funny.”

You tilted your head towards him as he spoke and was a bit surprised to find him looking directly back at you with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher.

His eyes were a little dazed, probably from the alcohol, but he looked a little more grounded than he did a minute ago.

Bakugou chuckled but it was short and grated against your ears for a second.

It was mocking.

He tipped his head back, downing the rest of his drink before harshly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand while he crushed the bottle in his metal fist.

Leaning over, he let go and let the shiny crystals plummet to the ground below.

You smiled faintly, watching how they sparkled. It looked so pretty.

Sitting back down, Bakugou mimicked your posture and huffed out a dry laugh. “Out of all the shitty extras in the world, you would be the only one to fucking get through to me.”

Your puzzlement must’ve shown through his alcohol-induced haze because the next thing you knew was that he teetered to the side as he lost control of his equilibrium and careened into you.

Out of reflex, you caught him and gasped at the temperature difference as his cold metal arm pressed against you. You could feel it through the thin fabric of your dress and latched onto it when he moved to pull away.

“Sorry.” Bakugou slurred curtly as he gathered his bearings and tried to detangle you from him.

But his coordination wasn’t the best and he was growing more and more frustrated when you wouldn’t let go.

He snarled. “Let go.”

You shook your head firmly. “You could fall.”

Oh yeah. You two were on the roof.

This was a bad idea.

He didn’t know how he ended up here with you but he needed to leave. Immediately.

Bakugou stumbled to his feet, somehow managing to lose his way halfway to the door and face-planted in something that smelled faintly of lavender. Snuggling into the soft thing that was rubbing against his face, his brow furrowed in annoyance as you giggled at him.

“You have to take me out on a date first if you want that.” You teased lightly and he immediately sat up as he realized he had crashed in your bed.

He scrambled upright, nearly falling over again in his haste. “Fuck, I’m—”

“It’s alright, Katsuki.” You reassured nonchalantly, coming down to sit beside him, but not close enough where your legs were touching.

Bakugou’s mouth twitched at the sound of his first name but his eyes softened the barest bit and he didn’t fight against it.

Before he met you, he hated his name. It was a reminder that the place he came from was from a lab, cooked up like some sort of sick science experiment to fulfill a role in society that was chosen by some prick who had money.

It was a reminder that he wasn’t real. That he was expendable to all those bastards that ran the world.

But when you used it, when you spoke it with such tentative curiosity and genuine concern, he didn’t feel so unimportant anymore.

“Fuck.” Bakugou breathed as you leaned closer to examine his face.

Your forehead creased in worry and you raised a hand to his head to check his temperature to make sure he wasn’t running a fever. “Are you feeling alright?”

Squeaking when he suddenly grabbed your hand, you gasped in shock when he tugged you towards him.

You crashed into his chest and your cheeks flushed hotly as his chiseled form honed from years of training molded against your front.

His arm wrapped around your shoulders and it took a second to realize that his metal arm was planted firmly on the ground, keeping the two of you steady.

But when you reached out your fingers to brush against it, he ripped away from you.

You pulled back immediately, apology weighing in your gaze as your eyes flicked away from him. “I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s fucking hideous.”

You balked at his tenor. “W-What?!”

Bakugou looked away from you, his gaze fixed on the ground behind you as he rested his chin on top of your head, stubbornly refusing to look you in the eye as you breathed steadily against the base of his neck.

You were warm. Delicate.

Precious.

He didn’t expect someone like you to understand.

His vermilion eyes were shadowed by the ghosts of his past that continued to haunt him and he sighed heavily, curling his arm around you tighter. He didn’t want to let you go just let but he didn’t know why you weren’t pushing him away.

Your soft voice rang out. “Katsuki, what do you mean? It’s not hideous at all.”

He clicked his tongue but otherwise didn’t verbalize his disagreement.

“How could someone like you possibly understand this shit?” He spat but you didn’t recoil like he was half hoping you would.

At least then he would have an excuse to leave, under the guise that he had upset you. But you didn’t do any of that.

Too fucking precious. Always saw the good in everything just like that shitty nerd.

You closed your eyes in defeat. “No… I suppose I can’t.”

You didn’t quite understand him.

The bite in his tone sounded like you had hit too close to home, and yet, his thumb was absentmindedly running over the satin of your dress that he had bought you, your side heating up under his chest and warmth bloomed from your heart.

And yet, he wasn’t pushing you away.

Leaning down, you rested your forehead against his shoulder, your heart beating too loud for your own ears. “You don’t have to say anything, but I know what it feels like to be an outcast too.”

Bakugou eyed you cautiously, wondering if this was some sort of trick because he was drunk and definitely not as attentive as normally but your tone was open.

Honest.

“Yeah, maybe you do.” He scoffed, scorning you under his breath. “Maybe you don’t. It doesn’t fucking matter to me.”

“Maybe it doesn’t.” You whispered, tracing patterns on his chest as your head lolled to the side to gaze at him with complete vulnerability. “But just know that you aren’t alone.”

Bakugou whipped his head around as you stared at him. Didn’t you get it already? He didn’t want to fucking taint you with all of this shit that went on down here.

He didn’t want to tell you that he had to settle tinkering with whatever scrap metal he could find in the junkyard just to make his left arm operational again, didn’t want to tell you that the government had offered him a real replacement prosthetic but at the cost of becoming one of their combatants fighting in a war he never chose and as a result, he was casted to the side when something went wrong.

He had lost everything.

The second he had been tossed out on the street, he had come crawling back to Kiko, a spunky little girl a part of the UA orphanage in the east, one of the ones that Mic funneled money towards to fund their food and supply them with fresh water every three days.

The girl, no more than ten at the time, with her dirty blonde pigtails sticking out on either side of her lopsided head, had been born with a unique appearance.

The officials called it a defect, as though they were talking about an object of mass production.

Fucking disgusting.

It never seemed to bother the girl though, and she often claimed that she was tougher than all those men in fancy suits. Bakugou liked her spirit already.

Kiko had had this habit of tracing her stubby little fingers all over the scars from his fights whenever he came to visit and it had been her idea to forgo a realistic prosthetic from the corporation that was looking to hire him and just go out, full badass, just like Bucky in the Winter Soldier.

It was her favorite movie but Bakugou claimed he had absolutely no idea where she learned that kind of language from.

He had chuckled and patted her on the head at the time, swearing to hell and back that there was no fucking way he was going to build a metal arm. He would scare the kids if he did that, not to mention, full-grown adults.

But Kiko simply bounded over to him and beamed up at him like nothing was wrong in the world. It was fucking contagious, begging for him to at least consider it, selling the point of how cool it would look.

“You would be a superhero, Bakugou!!” She cheered, raising her hands up high, demanding for him to lift her up even though she wasn’t five anymore. “And you could save everybody, just like you want to!!”

He never got a chance to show her the finished product. Would she have liked it? Would she run around, screaming in his shitty apartment as she played with it when he detached it for cleaning? Would she try to hit him over the head with it when she thought he wasn’t looking like the cheeky brat he knew that she was?

Bakugou could hear her squeals of excitement so vividly some nights that he woke up from his terror of that night, soaked in cold sweat from a memory of the girl he had failed to save.

Defeated and overwhelmed by his circumstances after being rejected by the very people who sought him out because of his talent, he had ventured to the orphanage that night and on a whim, demanded her to live with him. He would take care of her, protect her, teach her things that she couldn’t learn from anyone else.

The widest smile he had ever seen stretched across Kiko’s face and she accepted his demands with eyes tearing up with joy.

He vowed to protect her.

He failed.

He had an unsettled score with the government officials he had upset on his way out from the lab that day they told him he had been scraped from the program.

The enraged fighter went on a rampage, tearing down anything in his path and clearing out the experiment rooms, offering freedom and a second chance to anyone willing and brave enough to take it.

And as a result, many took him up on his offer and fled that place with white walls and food too bland to actually be considered nutritious.

There was no doubt about it. He pissed them off the day he saved the others.

They had come for her and taken her last year on his birthday as revenge for freeing those they were experimenting on. He found a crumpled, poorly wrapped, newspaper covered package lost in the clutter of his apartment when he got home.

The creaking old door that kept out winter drafts had caved in, signifying that it had broken in with considerable force, and Kiko was gone.

That crushed gift hidden under the stairwell was the only thing that remained of her.

Inside, there was a small metal pin in the shape of an explosion. For his personality. Corny, but the little girl was simple-minded and liked the sentiment she found in things that she repurposed.

Bakugou always thought it was fucking weird but he hadn’t taken it off ever since that day.

The metal plates of his arm glided, clinking together softly as the polished steel lifted to trace your jaw, the pin visible on the inside of his wrist.

To keep her close to him always.

He had stormed their stronghold but by the time he got there, they were gone. Everything.

Every vial, all the equipment, every single one of the samples and officials had disappeared into thin air.

Bakugou had tried everything to track Kiko down, paying off the highest crime organizations to get more eyes out on the street but nothing worked. She was gone.

And she wasn’t ever going to come back.

You were silent when he finished telling you his depressing life story, sure you were bored to death but when he started to get up, he found that he couldn’t get very far with you draped over his body like this.

Bakugou had a fleeting thought that you had fallen asleep while he had been lamenting and rehashing every depressing detail from his past but he noticed the stuttering rise and fall of your back.

Well, at least you weren’t asleep, but now he didn’t know how to feel when he had told you all of that and you had yet to say anything.

“I know you don’t want pity.” You whispered into his shoulder.

He raised an eyebrow but waited for you to continue.

“I know there’s nothing that I can say that would make the pain go away or bring Kiko back,” You said softly. “But I’m here for you.”

Bakugou pressed his cheek against your hair and inhaled your sweet scent, closing his eyes as an unseen weight lifted from off of his shoulders.

“Thank you.” He murmured quietly with great difficulty.

You smiled slightly, glad that you were able to provide him with a little bit of comfort. “Anytime.”

The two of you stayed entwined for a few more moments, time stretching as he held onto you, soaking up your soothing presence while you relaxed against his hold.

“Katsuki?” You called quietly when he still didn’t let go after five more minutes.

Tightening his arm around you, he frowned when you struggled in his grip.

“Stop fucking moving.” He demanded and you ceased fighting in favor of pulling back to flick him on the forehead. “Oi, did you just fucking flick me?!”

“Yes.” You replied bluntly, snickering when he rolled his eyes.

There he was.

Bakugou protested hotly when you pushed down his arms to untangle from him but you shushed him with a giggle, leaning back to open the box of beer by your bed, grabbing two bottles and fishing for something from underneath your pillow

In the underground city where liquor was the only thing that was plentiful, you would take what you could get.

Bakugou caught the beer that you threw at him in midair with an expression a mix between annoyance that you tossed it at his face and gratitude that you knew how he needed another drink after that tale.

“What the fuck is that for?” He scoffed, pointing to the roll of gauze in your hand. “You get a papercut or some shit?”

You rolled your eyes in disbelief, failing to notice how his eyes raked over you to look for any kind of injury you might be hiding from him, and held it up to him. “No, but it looks like you did.”

He almost spilled his beer that he just popped the lid off of, mouth furrowing in a deep-seated frown when he followed your gaze and landed on the cuts on his knuckles from the fight that happened earlier that night.

“Fuck.” He cursed, setting down the beer hard to wipe up the blood.

He hadn’t even known when he got hurt.

But he didn’t even get started on tending to it when your gentle hands wrapped around his and you took over for him.

“Here.” You murmured, pouring some water onto a clean cloth and dabbing carefully at his cuts. “Let me.”

“You’re fucking weird.” Bakugou grumbled but allowed you to take over.

Your touch was so much lighter than the rough pads of his fingers. He was always too impatient whenever he had to patch himself up, jerking at the bandages to get them to lay flat when they wouldn’t cooperate.

It was a fucking pain to stop the bleeding when his shitty fingers fumbled with it. It was a trip to hell and back every single time he had to attend to wounds he got from boxing.

Your nose scrunched up in concentration as you finished cleaning the area before securely wrapping the soft cotton around his knuckles.

“There.” You declared in satisfaction, sitting back on your knees.

Admiring your handiwork with an unreadable expression, it was a second before Bakugou nodded begrudgingly with thanks.

“It’s not complete shit.”

You giggled. “Thanks.”

He picked back up his drink and took a swig.

Offering up yours, you hid your surprise when he actually recognized the gesture and clinked his glass against yours.

The distinct hum from the music in the establishment below filtered up to the roof, filling the silence and the occasional echo of steel grating against each other. The low lights were pleasant and the ambiance was soothing as you two drank away the night.

You shivered, catching a chill as the night air blew by, but before you could reach for your blanket, Bakugou was tucking you in his side.

“Get over here, dumbass.” He mumbled, turning his face away so that you wouldn’t see his blush. “You’re gonna get fucking sick.”

You noticed how he still kept your metal arm away from you. That wound was still too fresh and somehow you had a feeling that no matter how much time would pass, things would never quite be the same again.

Playing with the hem of your dress, you smiled softly. “But I wanted to wear it today, it was a special occasion.”

Special occasion his ass. It was fucking freezing out here and all you were wearing was that summer dress. His brow knitted as you puffed out your cheeks, breath visible, and he wasn’t so sure he wanted to leave you out here when it was so cold out.

“I’m sorry.” Bakugou apologized quietly as you lost interest in toying with the pale blue satin and folded your hands neatly in your lap.

At your questioning gaze, he suppressed the urge to roll his eyes but heat crept up his neck.

“For storming out on the celebration you planned, dumbass.” He grumbled, flicking you on the forehead in a similar fashion hat you had done earlier.

Whining, you held onto your forehead as you made an exaggeration of pain. He rolled his eyes at your antics and you giggled, snuggling further into his side.

“You’re warm.” You mused.

Bakugou scowled, cheeks still pink from the embarrassment tingling through his whole body. “Oi, are you fucking ignoring m—”

“Of course not.” You retorted, pinching his side in retaliation for the flick he gave you before your voice dropped a little. “It’s just— There isn’t anything you need to apologize for. I understand.”

Those words, they were so simple and yet, warmth bloomed in his chest from how they fell from your lips.

And he could see that you were truly genuine.

He had rejected your kindness earlier when Kirishima had told him you had planned out all of this for him. He had never quite been accustomed to generously that lacked a price or some kind of condition.

Then again, he had never met someone quite like you.

As you rested against his shoulder, Bakugou took the empty beer bottle from you and placed it on the other side of him so that you didn’t break it and cut yourself when you woke up from your little nap.

He gazed out into the city that had caused him so much misery and wondered how it was even possible for someone like you to exist.

Birthdays, he still hated them, but maybe, just maybe, he could start to heal.

It would start by telling that old man that you fucking needed a new place to sleep that wasn’t the goddamn roof.

It was a good thing he knew just the place you could go.

Brushing back the hair out of your eyes, he allowed a small smile to form on his face as you breathed softly, evenly and he smirked against the top of your head as a thought crossed his mind. And even though he knew you couldn’t hear him, he still murmured quietly.

“How do you feel about seagulls and sand, princess?”

267 notes · View notes

reachgirl · 4 years

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On Buddie and them potentially being aware of their feelings

So we definitely see evidence of how Eddie might feel about Buck, how he clearly loves and trusts him. He absolutely relies on Buck a lot as someone who loves Christopher, as that person you go to who cares about your kid as much as you do. And he clearly doesn’t handle not having Buck around very well during the storyline that must not be named.

He also looks at Buck like “you’re lucky you’re pretty”, a LOT. And he’s shown to think about Buck’s wellbeing and Buck’s feelings. For a guy who’s not usually great at ~the talking~, he seems to sense that Buck needs to hear him actually *say* things like that he trusts him, out loud. For Buck, someone who’s been told that he’s reckless and impulsive, not diligent, not reliable (and to be fair to Bobby, has been all those things at times, but is desperate to change that view of himself), to be told that he’s trusted - more than anyone else - with someone’s kid? That’s huge. And Eddie knew that he needed to hear that, he also knew that he needed to feel like part of something when Buck was depressed and hanging around at home after the truck bombing. And Eddie was the one who noticed Buck wasn’t around at the station. For Eddie, the fact that they “have each other’s backs” is so important, because, and it’s insane how this is not wishful thinking on the fandom’s part, he actually tells Shannon that she doesn’t have his back. So yeah, absolutely nobody is disputing that Eddie loves Buck.

And I’ve talked about how I believe that Eddie might be bi leaning towards more into men than women (his “not my type” and aunt pepa’s reaction to buck are the foundation for this theory), and his particular combination of upbringing, experience and location really messing with him admitting that to himself (Conservative religious culture, Texas, army, getting married young because of outside expectations). But many of the scenes we get from him could - FROM THE OUTSIDE - very well just show a guy who has a lot of love and respect (and occasionally some fond exasperation) for his best friend. Possibly more, but not in that active, pining way. Not like he’s truly aware of it, yet.

But Buck? He pretty much always looks at Eddie like he’s the best thing that has happened to him, ever, and he can’t believe his luck of getting to be around this man. The smile he constantly gives him, and - in seasons 2 and 3 - only him, is the actual “I want to sleep with you smile” from season 1 Buck. I don’t make the rules.

He constantly finds ways to help him out, reads up on things he knows Eddie is interested in or things that are for some reason something Eddie is dealing with (whether it’s baseball biographies or summer camp brochures), and absolutely always looks to him for approval anytime he does something well or remotely badass. Or even when he makes a joke. It’s almost like 95% of the stuff he does, he does so that Eddie will see.

He sees himself as part of Eddie’s family to the point of not feeling like he’s a guest at their house, he has proven he would actually die for Chris, and he spends much of his free time finding ways of making Chris, the most important person in Eddie’s life, happy. He shares in both the happy and the difficult parts of raising Chris, he gets involved in school problems, and he’s there for Eddie to talk through all the little things that come up when you’re a parent. Often times, with single parents, when the other parent isn’t around, the problem is that there’s nobody else in your life who shares the same love and enthusiasm or worry you have for your child. You could talk about everything relating to them for hours, but even the best meaning friends will at some point reach the limit of how interested they are. Not so with Buck.

But unlike Eddie, Buck is also aware, to a point, of how much he’s focused on Eddie. Where Eddie’s jealousy comes across as more spur-of-the-moment, not something he’s even aware of, Buck seems like.. he’s thought about how he feels about Eddie. Others definitely have. Maddie’s comment about his “man crush” aside, even a random christmas elf (long may she live) comments on it. Hen and Karen immediately agree Buck would invite Eddie, like, Karen knows about this even. Their reaction when Buck is acting irrational over how they might get Eddie out when he’s buried alive and most likely dead already is that reaction of “Oh fuck, this will break this person” that is usually reserved for the significant other or parent. Bobby definitely reacts to Buck in relation to Eddie the way a father would, carefully weighing being amused at how obvious he’s being, and concern over not wanting him to get hurt doing something stupid trying to save Eddie, or by falling for him when it might not be reciprocated. They all know that Buck’s a little (more than) smitten with Eddie. And Buck... of course he’s going to notice how his friends and family react. I think he’s been aware of it for a while and is constantly trying to navigate and balance this.

Of course he hasn’t told his face about balancing anything at all yet, because look at that man’s face any time he looks at Eddie, look at that scene with the medal. He absolutely can’t help it. And sometimes it’s like he wants them to pick up on it - for example, pushing Maddie on the fact that he doesn’t consider himself a guest. And that’s completely understandable, sometimes you want people to pick up on something and maybe even comment on it (because their reaction reaffirms to you that maybe you’re not crazy) while also not wanting attention on that point. People are complicated like that. And Buck may be a himbo, but he’s complicated AF.

We get Buck being really weird about Eddie and Shannon in general - right off the bat. When Shannon shows up at the station and she and Eddie talk, Buck’s in the background and overhears that they’re sleeping together. He clearly struggles with this information, (and Chim possibly notices..) then he get’s real petty about them potentially getting married again (”Maybe you can get a discount”) - and he nopes out of the situation as quickly as he can - because he doesn’t want to risk saying anything snarky.

Then Chim and Buck go christmas tree shopping, and Chim comments on how Buck can’t let Eddie’s situation with Shannon go, and it’s true, he can’t stop himself. But when Eddie asks him for advice in front of the fountain (/metaphorical water penis as I like to call it), he’s suddenly all “I didn’t think it was my business” ... ok, sure, Buck. Then he basically tells Eddie to try and make it work with Shannon. In terms of character development, in a romance, this is the part where person A wants to be with person B but doesn’t think they have a chance, so makes the choice to try and settle for being their friend, which, heartbreakingly, involves pushing them into the arms of someone else.

Also, his kind of “oversharing” of Eddie’s situation with Ana to the rest of the team is, to me, a pretty clear indicator that the topic makes him uncomfortable and he’s trying a Ross Geller-I’m making Fajitas- “let’s show everyone how very completely normal I feel about this” approach, which.. it doesn’t.. work that well. And when does this ever work, it’s super easy to see through this, and it usually just serves to draw more attention to the fact that you’re uncomfortable with whatever is being discussed.

Buck also takes everything Eddie says to heart. Like, fucking takes it and will not let go of it. Half a season after Eddie tells him that he makes everything about himself, he breaks down telling Maddie he’s worried he’s making the situation with the old firefighter about himself again. During the kitchen scene (or “The actual how-to-guide of what to do when you thought the guy you have a crush on doesn’t reciprocate but then you have a fight and he really doesn’t handle being away from you so well so you kind of might as well see where being a little more openly flirty will get you”), Buck’s clearly thought about Eddie’s words from the grocery store fight, and he’s gonna call Eddie out. And maybe do other stuff.

Looking at what the writers are actually doing, to end the season, there’s the clawing at dirt of it all, Buck falling apart when Eddie’s buried alive. Buck being in almost all of Eddie’s memories when he’s close to dying. And Maddie’s comment about not wanting to set Josh up with Buck, which is innocent enough, but why throw that in on top of all of the above, if not because maybe what we’re actually looking at is that they’re setting up a sexuality crisis for Buck, and him realizing he’s maybe into Eddie, but Eddie not actually reciprocating (yet)? And say Buck is then somehow forcefully pushed to see the truth about how he feels, maybe by, i don’t know, coming across TK and/or Carlos on a call, and one of them asking him how long him and Eddie have been together? We might get Eddie with Ana, and a very long, drawn out process of Buck realizing what’s happening and trying to leave them alone, and Eddie being really confused about why Buck’s being like that. Then we would have two options (well, more, really, but these are two I like): 1) Eddie pushing Buck on that point and demanding an explanation and Buck just coming out with it because fuck it and sorry and please let me see Chris still 2) Buck’s sexuality crisis (or not crisis, if he’s always been pan/bi, which, look, nothing I’ve seen has disproven this theory) leading to him dating a guy and Eddie getting really jealous but not actually being aware of the fact what he feels is jealousy (because he doesn’t realize how he feels about Buck, see this whole essay you just read), and Buck being the one who confronts Eddie about why he’s being such a homophobic asshole about this, and Eddie straight up kissing him because he can’t not anymore.

385 notes · View notes

dennou-translations · 4 years

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Violet Evergarden: Booklet 2

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I wanted that star. I wanted to be the person who would piece through that star.

Leon Stephanotis and the First Star

I had once seen a comet that only came around every two hundred years together with a girl.

It had happened years ago. That was one beautiful evening. Even now, I can still vividly recall the twinkling of the stars we watched on that day while our bodies shivered at the coldness of the nightly wind. Like jewels scattered over a dark canopy, the starry sky was enough to make one forget to even breathe. As it passed by, dragging its white tail, the meteor looked just like a fairy in flight with insect scales scattering about from her wings.

Whenever I looked at a beautiful night sky, I would think many times over, “Aah, now that I’ve branded this moment into my heart, I’d have no regrets if someone reaped my life away”. Should I lose my life, I wanted it to be on a starry night like that. I wanted to die with the memory of witnessing something stunning.

“May the night sky be a beautiful starry one on the day I die,” I wished.

But that one evening was a little bit different. Maybe because I had someone to watch the stars with me. Maybe because that was my first love.

She was a gorgeous person. Even more than the stars. Her hair looked like the Sun when shining under the moonlight and her blue eyes were like gemstones created from a mix of the sea and the sky. With her porcelain skin and skylark voice, the way she walked was just as that of a well-cared maiden. In reality, she was an orphaned ex-soldier, as well as an Auto-Memories Doll from a far-away southern country, so the saying “don’t judge a book by its cover” was pertinent when it came to her.

She was most likely an once-in-a-lifetime kind of person, one that you couldn’t know if you would ever get to meet.

My chest throbbed even at the sigh that leaked from her when she was peeking at the telescope. When she looked my way and smiled faintly, I experienced an impact as if I had been hit in the head, giving in to a love that made me feel like my whole body would melt and crumble down.

“Master, astronomical observations are quite a wonderful thing.”

If, by any chance, my body were to be crushed by a star in that moment, only on that day did I want to keep looking at something, even if for just one second more. I wanted to keep looking at her. Forever and ever, I wished. That was what I thought.

This encounter had changed my life and decided my fate. I didn’t mind if people laughed at that, calling me a romanticist. I, Leon Stephanotis, whose destiny had been altered, would always look back on it.

On the day that I had watched the stars with Violet Evergarden.

“There was a sea of gold in his land” – who was it again that had sung the praises of a desert like this?

“I’m beat.”

When bookworms read too much, their head’s capacity would exceed the limit, so they would automatically forget the things they had read in their early phases. I had confidence in my memorization abilities and yet I couldn’t remember this, so it was surely a passage from an adventure novel or something of the sort that I had read in my childhood.

——What a beautiful comparison.

When I actually stood in the middle of a desert, my impressions were drawn to the temperatures, sunlight and other such things regarding the environment instead, so this poetic expression hadn’t crossed my mind. In the destinations of my travels, I often reminisced to a certain someone who was somewhere in this world, as well as the things she, who spoke words as beautiful as that, used to say, as if borrowing them.

“So pretty...”

I liked the color of gold. I could observe the grains of sand moving smoothly for all eternity.

“Everyone, you did well; the books we excavated will be brought back by another group. Meaning that we from the starting line-up are finally off for the first time in months.”

As I was spacing out, I didn’t hear the commander’s words very well. I was only staring at the ground, missing out on everything. When I raised my head, the happy-looking faces of my bearded and somewhat dirty colleagues entered my eyes. All I understood right away was that we would get a vacation.

“After we get twenty days off, we’ll regroup in Iustitia, at Shaher’s headquarters. After that, we’ll go to that place in the south where the reconnaissance team was sent. Next will be our turn to bring back the luggage. Don’t let your bodies get weak.”

“Roger that.” Once everybody gave an agreeable reply in unison, we disbanded from the spot.

Iustitia, Shaher’s headquarters. The main office of my occupation. I was previously in a section called the codex department, devotedly working on the deciphering of documents and copying manuscripts, but now I had been transferred to a completely different section. It sounded good when we were called the leading actors, but it was actually a group of reeking adventure rascals, the literature collecting department.

I put my heavy baggage sack on the ground and heaved a breath. Wiping the white folk clothes that I had been provided with on-site, I dusted the sand off them. This clothing called dola – a long robe secured by a waist belt – looked flappy and inflexible at first glance, but it was surprisingly easy to move around in. It was made of a rather velvety silk material, so there would normally not be so much sand sticking to it, but since I was caught in a sandstorm until just a moment ago, there was no helping it.

We had returned from a thorough search in the ruins of an abandoned castle, once the dominion of a royal clan whose name was eminent in the past. A book burning movement had taken place in this land at a certain point, but we had received information that a scholar from those times, out of fear towards the situation, had hidden valuable books in the forsaken palace. The information was apparently right, so after wandering around all over the deserted castle, we had found dozens of books. The books that would be taken to Shaher’s headquarters were to be made into written copies and spread to the world.

Made for protection purposes, Shaher’s literature collection was also well-reputed in other countries. It was difficult to negotiate with the locals responsible for the abandoned castle, but we were allowed entrance this time as well thanks to our achievements thus far. Just like that, someone’s story, studies and feelings, which were supposed to have disappeared, would breathe once again. The books we had been looking for would be delivered to other people and comfort them during long nights.

——What a wonderful thing.

The working environment was awful, but I was proud of my job.

I sat down on my luggage and gazed at the cityscape while drinking water from my canteen. In this desert-zone city, everyone’s clothes seemed harmonized no matter what color they wore.

“Senior Leon, what will you do on your days off?”

As a junior who had not yet left the spot called to me, I furrowed my brows and looked at his face. He was a young man of masculine facial traits, which was enviable to someone as baby-faced as me.

“Hey, Sir.”

A rarity amongst the members of our unit, the man had not been born in Iustitia. If I wasn’t mistaken, he was a rich kid who had been born in a southern country and entered Shaher through connections with the foundation executives.

Getting a job at the Shaher Observatory was a daunting task even for those who had studied astronomy. It was hard to make it without learning in a good environment from an early age. Since Iustitia, the capital of stargazing, was the best place to study in, it was natural that the ones hired were mostly the locals.

——Well, this guy had connections, so this has nothing to do with him.

I pondered an answer. “Nothing in particular.” For the time being, I decided to be cold, acting as nonchalant as ever.

And this was also the same as always, but the junior took no offense in my crude response – rather, he laughed at me, looking happy. “Then that means you’ve got no plans. I was thinking of going home. If you’d like, how about we go together? We have a villa by the lake... If I go now, the schedule will allow my family to join in.”

“No, why do I—”

“Last time we had a break, I told my little sisters about your cool adventure story and they wouldn’t shut up about how much they wanted to meet you. Hey, hey, how about it?”

I was baffled. I had no idea what was good about me to this junior but he would oddly flock to me. The reason why I hadn’t told him about my plans right away was that I felt he would follow me if I did so. Honestly, he was a bother. Up to now, we had acted as a group. I wanted to be alone even if a second sooner.

“I’m not going.”

“No way... My family’s all pretty boys and girls! Sir, you like beautiful things, don’t you?”

“Do they look like you?”

“They do.”

“Then they might be pretty, but won’t be my type.”

“Sir! You’re horrible!”

“So loud. If your family’s waiting for you, hurry and go.”

While I gestured with my hand as if shooing a dog, the junior made a puppy-like sad face. Even though he had a big body, he was amicable and his display of emotions was richer than most people, making him look all the more like a dog.

“Then, if you ever feel like coming to see me during your break...”

“I won’t.”

“...could you contact a hotel called Varona in Leidenschaftlich?”

“I won... uh?”

“It’s a first-class accommodation establishment. It’s under my uncle’s administration, so you can get a stay there immediately, and I can pick you up as soon as you give me my name. Oh, you’re making an interested face, huh? Want to come with me right now?”

What piqued my interest was the word “Leidenschaftlich” – that was all.

——That’s where the CH Postal Company is.

And it was also where my first love worked at.

“You were from Leidenschaftlich...?”

“That’s right. I did say it in my self-introduction when I joined the department.”

“Well, I don’t listen to people I have no interest in...”

As expected, my junior gave a happy-looking smile with his whole face. “Sir, I like that you’re equally unfriendly to everyone. People only got close to me because of my title... and my family’s social standing... but Sir, you’re cold, and that feels nice.”

“Your suffocating actions are a pain in the ass to me. Besides, hum...”

“What is it, Sir?”

“Hum, say... is the CH Postal Company well-known?”

“Do you know Violet Evergarden?” – the reason why I couldn’t ask this was a literal embodiment of how much I lacked guts, I thought.

With an “aah”, my junior immediately made a face like the name rang a bell. “I know them. It’s the company of that businessman, Claudia Hodgins, right? They’re popular. Shocking that the name of a company would come from you.”

“I’m an adult, after all. I’d know the name of one or two renowned businesses at least.”

“That’s a lie, ain’t it? I already know you don’t have interest in anything but stars. Erm... if I’m not wrong, all the postal companies of Leiden got sucked into it. They also succeeded in company split-ups. Their president is a celebrity too. The newspaper series where he talks to other entrepreneurs is a trend... It got adapted into a book just recently. There’s a chapter in the extra edition where he talks to his secretary and the president of an affiliated company, and it’s so fun. The book’s in my room at the headquarters, so you can take it with you and read it all you want.”

“Is there nothing about business in that book? Like, about the Auto-Memories Doll field... Hum, according to my research, there should be a rather famous Auto-Memories Doll in it... Don’t know if she’s still there, though.”

I timidly attempted to ask, yet it seemed my junior didn’t know the details. That was expected. The number of people who could hire Auto-Memories Dolls was limited, so hardly anybody would know even the name of a famed Doll unless it was someone marginally acquainted with them.

“I wonder. I do sorta know that they apparently have one real beauty of a Doll. But I also have a good-looking face... so I don’t yield to beauties from here and there.”

“Got it. Thanks for the info. And for the nice conversation. Go home.”

“Sir...! If you get bored of being alone, please remember me!”

Leaving behind my clingy junior, I took off from that place. I strutted with a hand in my pocket.

My junior wasn’t a bad guy. He had a high-handed personality but fit into the category of good person. He must have talked to me like that because he knew about my background as an orphan who had lost his parents and got a job at the astronomical observatory by way of assistance from Shaher. Meaning he was worried about his senior, who would be spending his vacation alone with no lover or family. The reason why he had invited me to a house where his family would be was probably that he was exposing his intentions in his own way.

——But to hell with that.

I wanted to be alone. To say that the people who thought I was pitiful were the actual pitiful ones was my essence. I had always enjoyed watching the stars by myself anyway, and I enjoyed books about stars too. Book reading wasn’t meant to be done with two people, right? I liked being alone. This was also because I had lived a life of accepting solitude for a long time, but if anything, it was harder for me to settle down when I was in someone’s company.

When I turned the street corner and confirmed that he finally wasn’t following me anymore, I let out a relieved sigh.

——Alone at last. Time and space just for me.

The times when I was by myself like this were the ones I felt most comfortable in, and while I did have some things to reflect upon in that regard, unfortunately, I didn’t have a family to pester me about having children, unlike the rest of society. Because I was alone.

——I get that it isn’t a good thing.

There were things that you couldn’t get used to or change, despite understanding why you should. I was equal parts as obstinate as I felt inferior to those who had families. Only one person had ever made me want to be with her for a little longer when I was in her company.

——Only one.

Our circumstances were similar and we were also alike in that we were burdened with loneliness, but it wasn’t as if I liked her because of the similarity. It was because she seemed like she would be all right even if she were on her own, so I had wished to stay by her side. To get close to her. I “liked” her in that way. It wasn’t as if I wanted her to do something for me. I was the one who wanted to do something for her. It was that kind of “like”.

It had happened a long time ago.

After we had spent a little time together, she left. When we were bidding our farewells, I stopped her and confessed.

“Violet.”

I told her I was in love with her. I didn’t ask her, “I like you, so what do you wanna do?” – I simply told her I liked her.

“I’m... I’m... in the codex department now, but... I actually wanted to be in the literature collecting department like my father.”

She gave me this answer: the way that she cherished me was different.

“I had my hopes up that maybe my mother would come home one day if I waited here, bringing my father back with her... so I kept shutting myself in until this age, without ever stepping off into the outside world. That was possible in this place and I wanted it myself. But... just now...”

But if we ever happened to meet again, she wanted to spend time with me.

“I’ve just made up my mind. I’ll go around the world like you.”

In that moment, the woman who had said that she couldn’t feel emotions...

“I might face danger. I might lose my life without anyone ever finding my body, just like my parents. But—But that’s okay. I’m thinking of choosing that path.”

...smiled at me like a normal girl, looking happy, and told me something.

“If I do that, I’m sure we might get to meet someday, somewhere, under a starry sky. We’re both gypsies. And if that happens, will you...”

——...watch the stars with me again?

“Yes, Master.”

She told me that. She said it. This alone was already enough for me. This alone gave me the courage to come out of the world that I had been secluding myself in. Even if my love wasn’t requited, even if we never saw each other again, I was so happy.

She.

Violet.

Violet Evergarden.

Just that – just the fact that she had promised to watch the stars with me – had made me happy to the point of changing my life.

I kept making transfer requests ever since that day, finally earned approval and ventured myself into the outside world. The world other than Iustitia that I saw for the first time was bustling with a dizzying variety of things, which made me regret secluding myself. But surely, if I hadn’t met her, I would have taken a lot longer to go outside. No, I might have never left that bird cage to begin with.

That environment where I was allowed to wallow was terribly indulgent. After all, everyone was awfully nice to me for not being able to stand up, just because I was sad.

I didn’t simply think that I would definitely get to see her at least once. The probability of an astronomer and an Auto-Memories Doll, who had spent time together at work, meeting even once was surely the same as the meteor we had seen that day – once every two hundred years.

I was being ridiculous. If I really wanted to see her, I should just go visit her postal company in Leiden. The reason why I didn’t do it was that I was scared. That maybe her words were just out of friendliness, and that, if we did meet, she wouldn’t even remember me and I would be rejected. On top of being terrified of this, I also had a dream.

That if we ever happened to reunite, I wanted us to meet again truly by coincidence, under a starry sky.

If something like that really were to happen, just what would I do? Would I smile? Cry? Or ask for her love again?

I nodded at a passerby who had almost collided with me and started walking again. I had no particular destination. I could also go back to the headquarters just like this and be an idle bookworm in my own room, but going sightseeing around this city for at least a little bit was also good.

——I won’t get to see Violet if I stay in that place.

I had no free time to spend money, so I could afford the luxury of staying at a remotely nice hotel. Having made up my mind, I went into the main street and began looking for accommodation in the desert capital.

Local idioms were honestly my weak point. Even though it was a common language, it was hard to catch because of the many dialects. When I talked to elders, I was done for.

However, I could perfectly understand that the inn’s owner, an old gentleman, had treated me like a “young lady”. Of course, I told him he was mistaken, but he didn’t hear it. He led me to my room with a hand around my hips.

The room was quite a high-class one, so I let it slide. If it were my old self, I would have been as furious as a raging fire. But I had grown up. By holding back my anger, I would manage to spend the night in a proper bed, where it didn’t seem like bugs would show up, so becoming an adult was for the best. Even if my self-respect decreased a little.

While I was chilling in the room and writing my diary, the sun went down in a blink of eye and it was getting late into the evening.

“Heave-ho.”

It was the dead of night. I put on warm clothes and prepared myself to go out.

I wanted to observe the desert’s starry sky at my own leisure. As our activities had been limited to daytime ever since we had arrived here, I was now finally getting to do the things that I actually felt like doing. I had watched it together with everyone else from the windows of the cheap inn that the literature collecting department’s personnel had stayed at, but as expected, I wanted to see it from a spacious place with no noise or anything of the sort. As a scholar born in the so-called “capital of stargazing”, I obviously was going to have my fill of the desert’s night sky.

Unable to contain my feelings of excitement, I left the room after my lips relaxed a bit. For the heck of it, I greeted the innkeeper and told him I was going to see the stars. When I did so, he made a worried-looking face.

Apparently, women were forbidden of wandering outside at night in these lands. He couldn’t stop me from going out since I wasn’t a local, but warned me not to get too close to men. It wasn’t as if there were many ruffians among the people who walked around at night, but simply that this city had this kind of culture, so if the men suddenly spotted a woman, they might think badly of it. I had grown up in a men’s dormitory watching a bunch of idiots, so I understood what he was trying to say.

I showed him the retractable cane I was holding, and while I was at it, I also demonstrated with one swing that a blade came out from the tip as well. It was not for killing anyone, but it sufficed for making the other party recoil and holding them back.

Receiving the innkeeper’s applause from behind, I ventured myself outside.

The temperature gaps between nighttime and daytime was extreme in the desert. Having been raised in a mountaintop astronomical observatory, I was used to areas where there was a discrepancy in temperatures between day and night, but even then, I could bring myself to deem it as comfortable due to differences in humidity. The instant I stepped outside, I shuddered with a “brr”.

However, I forgot the cold as soon as I saw the sight spreading overhead. Surely, God must have dropped His jewel box. The starry sky unfolded in a way that made even someone like me come up with such a poetic saying.

Due to the fact that it was nighttime, there were few people out, but it wasn’t as if nobody was wandering about the city. Just as the innkeeper had said, it seemed that someone with a womanly appearance (I wasn’t a woman at all, though) walking around did catch people’s eyes, as they called to me countless times. I put myself on guard in each of those instances, and everyone withdrew with the same caution as the innkeeper.

Not letting the women walk around late at night was also meant for protecting them.

I had heard that there was a place for stargazing aimed at tourists somewhere a little far from the city, so I headed there, for safety as well. Several tents were erected around the sparse green area. In addition to privately built tents, there were also merchant tents selling drinks and food.

After looking through the signboards with the prices of the alcohol and warm soups that people of this region consumed and were familiar with, I picked the alcohol. I was an adult now and on vacation, so I told myself that it was okay to drink today and gave myself permission.

I went for a cloudy-colored alcoholic drink simmered in a large pot called the witch’s cauldron. It was warm and sweet, with a slightly spicy aftertaste. It warmed your body when you drank it and was the best delicacy to savor in cold weather.

Some people invited me to enter their tents, but I refused and steadily began setting up by arranging the astronomical observation tools that I had prepared. I assembled a demountable astronomical telescope over the sheets.

Even though this was said to be a place for stargazing, not everyone seemed to be astronomy freaks like in Iustitia – most of them were lying on the ground, enjoying a conversation with their companions while relishing in the jewels of the night. Everyone other than myself had simple handheld telescopes, so a few locals started appearing fussily around me, looking greatly interested. If anything, there weren’t just tourists.

A young father who had a child with him shyly came to ask me, “How much is it for you to let us take a look?” Apparently, he had mistaken me for a merchant.

“I don’t take money for it. It’s something for me to enjoy myself.”

The young parent made a bewildered face at my blunt reply, but nervously stepped in front of the kid and said, “It’s okay even if it’s just for a little bit, couldn’t you let this child take a peek?”

“Sure, it’s fine.”

He was also surprised at my ready consent. As he asked one more time if I really wasn’t going to charge for it, I declared that I wasn’t, swearing by this land’s god.

I beckoned the child. Our heights didn’t match since he was too small, so I lifted him by the hips.

“Can you see them?”

“Just a tad higher.”

“This much?”

“Amaziiing.”

At the child’s delighted look, the father and I locked eyes with each other and laughed. Then, other people who had been surrounding us at a distance came over one after another, asking me to let them see next. Whenever I said that I wasn’t charging any fee, they would ask me back, “Are you a saint or what?”.

In a land where you could see such beautiful stars, astronomical telescopes weren’t wild-spread among locals, enjoyed only by tourists and outsiders. That was probably the case. For them, this was an expensive item brought by outsiders. The stars were beautiful enough at naked eye, so if I had to say it, telescopes weren’t necessary. But if there was something that would help them see better, there would obviously be people saying that they want to take a look.

——Guess I’m gonna contact Shaher’s donors and indicate this place as a potential donation site.

If this pleased so many people, maybe it would be nice to have a telescope that everyone could look into, just as there were benches where everyone could sit on along the streets. I liked stars, so it made me happy even if just one more person fell in love with them.

“Having fun?”

“We are! You’re so generous!”

The figure of an elderly man much older than myself smiling like a boy, looking extremely happy, struck home pretty hard. It wasn’t like I wanted to hang out with anyone or that I had a preference for getting along with everybody. That wasn’t the case at all.

“This thing’s pricey, ain’t it? You okay with people touchin’ it without a care?”

“It’s not made for decoration; it’s something to look at.”

But these kinds of moments were nice.

——Very nice.

If these once-in-a-lifetime encounters would increase the proportion of stargazing in someone’s life, nothing could make me happier.

——When I get old, I guess I’m gonna run a rent-a-telescope or something like that somewhere.

I decided to take a few steps back and let everyone enjoy themselves.

This sensation that the joy of the surroundings was becoming more and more contagious. This feeling that people were gathering there only out of curiosity and adventurous spirit, not for profit. It didn’t seem fitting of my usual self, but something like this was also conceivable every once in a while.

With nothing to do, I naturally started looking around. Wonderful night, wonderful atmosphere.

The figure of someone standing still amongst it all entered my field of vision even without me wanting to. Everyone else had a companion.

The person was clad in dola like me and had a veil covering her face. From her physique, I could somehow presume that she was probably a woman.

Hoping that no weirdos would go talk to her, I worried about and kept watch over the woman, just like people had done for me. If she got caught up by anybody, should I intervene?

I used to hate women, yet here I was, concerning myself with one. I might have a misconstrued sense of justice, but I at least had to care.

I was just looking at her for a little while simply for that reason, but the instant that the wind blew strongly, all of my nerves became her captive. Her veil came off. It came off just slightly and I could see her face.

Her golden hair fluttered leniently. Her shapely profile was exposed under the starry sky. This beauty that could be discerned even in the nightly darkness was breathtaking.

It was really just a few seconds’ time and she immediately fixed the veil back on tight, but I had already seen her, so I knew. I knew.

I knew who that was.

Distancing myself from the telescope, I walked unsteadily towards her. Like winged bugs that gathered up to light.

This person literally shone like a lantern in my life. It was fire that wouldn’t disappear, no matter how much time passed. Time only strengthened the flame’s vigor.

That was why, aah, I... I...

“Violet Evergarden... is that you?”

That was why I called to her at that moment, with a shrill voice. As she looked at me, her eyes slowly crinkled, the corners of her lips went up and she smiled at me.

I felt like tearing up at that.

“It has been a while, Master.”

I had dreamed of this.

“Is it really you?”

I had dreamed of this day.

“Yes, Master.”

Always had been.

“Stupid, I’m not your master anymore... I have a name too... You’ve probably forgotten about it, but I... My name is...”

I had dreamed of this day and had always been thinking about what to say if we ever got to meet again.

“Mr. Leon Stephanotis. Is ‘Mr. Leon’ all right?”

If it were under a starry sky with not a single cloud, we could talk about its bare beauty. If it were on a rainy day, we could discuss the mythology related to the constellations.

“Did I mistake it? I have confidence in my memorization skills, but...”

If it were on a night where a once-in-every-two-centuries meteor were to pass by, we could share stories of the past in which we had observed the sky together.

“No... you got it right. You got it... Just ‘Leon’ is fine... Violet, the time you spent with me was so long ago, and yet, you sure... managed to...”

I had dreamed of this. You had no idea, did you, Violet Evergarden?

“You sure managed to remember.”

You were my first love. The first person I fell for. That day was the first time I confessed to someone.

“Leon, do you recall the promise we made?”

I opened the door to courage. I opened it thinking it would be okay even if I got hurt. But instead of hurting me, you accepted it. You broke my love to pieces, but still acknowledged it.

“Yeah.”

I had dreamed of this. Of this moment. You didn’t have to remember it. You could have forgotten what you had said to me. But if nothing else, I wanted to have one more look at you before I died.

“Have you memorized...”

One more time.

“...the names of a few stars?”

I wanted to see you one more time.

Violet Evergarden. I – the sixteen-year-old Leon Stephanotis – was in love with you.

He was in love with you. So was my current self. Now that you were in front of me, I could tell as much, even if I didn’t want to.

The flame inside my chest was saying, “This woman is the one who started the fire.” It told me that you were the woman who burned me up. You had burned me, and you still were. You melted everything that I had locked up within ice. It told me that you were the woman of my fate.

Violet wordlessly nodded in agreement. She nodded like a child. She was happy that I remembered what she had told me – I could tell by the facial expression she was making.

——You used to be so expressionless and doll-like – who was it that changed you so much?

You weren’t a doll anymore now. More like a girl who had someone’s love. You didn’t look like anything but that in my eyes ever since you were with me, though. But now, surely you had someone. This someone had changed you to that point, right?

“Violet,” I said, suppressing the pain of my sweltering chest. “If you have some time, won’t you spend it with me?” I asked.

I was attempting to open the door to courage again. Regardless of what awaited me beyond it, even if I regretted opening it. I asked nevertheless.

You changed me. You made me who I was. You probably didn’t know that. You didn’t have to.

“Yes, by all means.”

And this beautiful woman in front of me, too.

“I had been waiting for a day to come when I inform you about the fruits of my studies.”

Surely, she had also been made by someone.

“Should we ever meet, I had wanted to report them to you, even if you did not remember.”

Envy, affection and attachment ran through my body.

“That is what I was thinking.”

My sixteen-year-old self was screaming. “I was in love with you. I was in love with you. I was in love with you. I’m in love with you. Even now, I still like you,” he shouted.

I no longer had any of the youth and recklessness of those days. However, regarding my love for her, the me from back when I confessed to her was still here.

“I’m sure what I’m gonna say now will trouble you. But would you listen?”

I was still here. That version of me was still inside me.

Violet Evergarden, you...

“You can laugh if you want; you see...”

...to me, you... a woman like you was...

“You were my first love.”

Violet Evergarden, you...

“I still like you. Forgive me.”

To me, you were a woman of the stars.

#violet evergarden #fyeahvioletevergarden #veedit #kyoani #kyoto animation #leon stephanotis #violet evergarden booklets #akatsuki kana #takase akiko #novel #my translation #leon stephanotis and the first star #leon stephanotis to ichibanboshi

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uponrightful · 3 years

Note

I've been wanting to send this one in for a while. What was going through the Wolfpacks mind and how much did Wolffe hear?

“I’d heard about him a lot from your brothers, how angry he was and that they thought he could use someplace like here. Home. But I didn’t think that he would ever show up. And, after a couple times something happened. I don’t know who really even started it.” The girl took another steadying breath, before continuing on the now spilling thoughts and feelings she’d been bottling up for months now. Completely unaware of the three men’s attention being drawn out the window where a grey and blue painted trooper walked towards the front door.

“I think about him, all the time. I hear his voice when I wake up, and I constantly dream about him. It’s like I’m constantly in this fever dream where I’ve finally been given something that I can’t deny I want.” All of the confusion crashed down in a wave of crystal-clear realization. Audience of troopers aside, the girl hadn’t thought it all through so straight.

She was brought back to Rex, sitting there drinking his caf with a look of disappointment when she’d mentioned that there wasn’t anything she wanted out of life. Other than helping the troopers. It hadn’t been the first time he’d asked, and she hadn’t realized why until now. She had the ability to have what she wanted. Regulations didn’t affect her, and neither did anyone else who didn’t have her best interests at heart. Rex hadn’t meant love specifically, or anything of the like, but what she didn’t get was why it mattered. His constant reminders spoken to the fact that without knowing… she couldn’t possibly go about getting it. Whatever “it” is. The girl’s sudden epiphany was that she finally knew -for once in her life- that there was something she wanted more than anything.

And that was Wolffe.

Her awestruck reaction and frozen posture thawed to see not a single pair of eyes focused on her. Boost, Sinker and Comet were all watching high above her head into the kitchen at something positively damning. Behind her, the heavy sound of boots thumped against the floor echoing off the silent walls of the house. Her heart, already thrumming with personal-realization began working double-time as the steps got closer.

Commentary Track for Welcome Company

Copy 500 words -or more- of any of my fics and I’ll give my thoughts/rambles on what was going through my head -or the character’s- when I wrote it!

*Send one in here*

@taz-107 You and I have some of the best discussions on literally everything Clones, and I'm so happy you sent this one in! I kinda went all-in, because I know you don't mind my word vomit 😅

I love you dearly 🤍

***

Let's start with the Wolfpack shall we?

Comet and Sinker know Pup the best, obviously. They think she's sweet, and they've always had a sense of little-sister vibes from her. It's the way she always invites them in, and never let's them leave without being adamant that they come back again... Preferably leaving less time between visits. Her home is one that the Pack really doesn't get to spend much time in, but when they do get the chance it's like they never left. Habits are created very easily, so the same dinners are almost always on the menu and there's almost a bedtime ritual they both have which never goes abandoned. Comet and Sinker are men of habit, but they never miss out on Pup's willingness to oblige them basically anything they want.

For Boost, his normal happy-go-lucky (and troublemaker) attitude is absent. This is the first time he's meeting Pup, and like most troopers he's hesitant for a number of reasons. It's illegal what they're doing, and although this girl has been nothing but a god-send for his brothers, it's nerve-racking to be in an unusual situation like sitting in a living room and talking just for the enjoyment of it. In a matter of an evening though, he's already falling into that same trap of love and affection that everyone else does when they meet Pup. She's sweet, and overly worrisome about his boots not being comfortable. (Something Boost wasn't sure he'd ever thought about before.)

The Pack's decision to make a visit wasn't a difficult one to make. Each of them had seen the changes in Wolffe's personality, whether big or small, and right away they knew that it was because he'd finally went for his own visit. It wasn't until Chapter Five that they realize there's something more going on than just what Comet and Sinker are familiar with experiencing during their stays at Home. It's the way their Commander doesn't seem to respond to them quickly -like he's off somewhere else in his mind- and the many times they've caught him taking a nap during a mission, mumbling to himself with the occasional slip-up of her name crossing his lips. The entire Wolfpack -Plo Koon included- know that their Commander has it bad. And initially, they're a little bit confused as to why Pup would ever take a liking to someone as harsh as Wolffe.

Note: Until this point, no one has seen Wolffe interact with Pup, and I made this decision very carefully. It was crucial that Wolffe come to form some sense of habit and security with her before this moment happens. It's to better display the completely different way Wolffe acts as a Commander, versus when he's with Pup. Wolffe is extremely talented at prioritizing tasks, whatever they may be. Therefore, when he's a soldier that's the only thing he normally has the mental capacity for. But when he's with Pup, he takes that romantic role just as seriously as he would directing troops on the frontlines.

The Pack know Wolffe is the one coming in the door. They also realize that they'd incidentally forced Pup's hand, and now they had no way of stopping her from talking without making everything even more awkward than it's already becoming. With every second that passes between seeing him walk past the window, Pup just keeps talking and the collective hope of the 104th is that Wolffe's change in attitude isn't just a passing fancy for Pup, and that her proclamation of love is one that their brother will see as something significant. In the background of this apprehension for Wolffe's reaction, they're actually shocked to hear Pup admit what she does about Wolffe.

They've always known Wolffe to be a little on the stiff side of rules and decorum, and even the mention of him being the least bit romantic enough to capture her attention is just another blow to these men's (hopelessly misguided) ideas about their Commander. He's not the most gentle person, and Pup is nothing short of an angel... (That's literally Sinker's nickname for her.) They make for a strange pair, and there's a bit of all three of them that have the same worry that Rex does; Can she actually handle him?

Note: I've always thought of Wolffe as a tortured soul, that never deserved the copious punishments that was handed to him in his life. And in the fic, there was a huge motivation to really play up just how worried troopers get about their brothers who end up the way Wolffe is when we see him post-cybernetics. He's angry and vicious to an extent. Not that he was a really carefree guy to begin with, but it's such a contrast that all of the men who knew Wolffe closely can see a very scary change in the Commander once he's brought back for duty. (Fives and Rex's conversation in Chapter Five is where I tried to make that fear a little more palpable and realistic of what war has done to Wolffe through the eyes of men who've seen things similar...)

They hear her words, and they're all staring at Wolffe who's got the most impassive expression they've ever seen before. It's stiffer than when he's at a parade rest, and even his posture looks like it could fucking snap at any second. But the second Pup's pause of realization hits her, Wolffe suddenly decides to join them all. Every last one of the Pack are holding their breath for this; Literally none of them have any idea of what to expect. They're all making subconscious guesses, trying to read his movements, literally anything that might help try and relax this tension. But when Wolffe just sits himself down at Pup's feet; Stretching out his leg and visibly melting back against her chair...

It's utter shock.

Note: I chose Boost for the next POV because he fit the need perfectly. Not only does he know Wolffe extremely well, but he doesn't have this predetermined idea of what Pup is like. He knows on a surface level that she's very kind and a little shy. But I needed him for this moment because it's truly perception-bending to see Wolffe take such a submissive posture towards this girl. (Her admittance that she loves him aside.) Boost has never seen Wolffe carry himself like that, and I wanted you to see it through his eyes because that's Wolffe's constant personality. Pup is the only one who's seen Wolffe soft -so this isn't new to her- but for the Pack, this is unprecedented behavior.

Now for our sweet, sweet, Commander 🤍

Wolffe was very preoccupied with his conversation with Anakin from Chapter Six and the upset over being forced to come back so late in the evening. He wouldn't dare not return after promising that he would, but the idea of making her wait up so late didn't sit right with him in the slightest. Being so caught up in his own head, he doesn't notice the Wolfpack staring at him through the open window dressings, and he's completely unaware that they'd chosen to come and see her as well. (He tries not to worry himself too much about what they do on planet-leave, and this was just one of his weaker moments.) Not that Wolffe would ever admit to being constantly worried about his brother's getting into trouble, and him not being able to get them out of it.

But all of that changes the second he walks into the house and hears Pup talking. It's not what she's saying at first; But instead just hearing her voice is enough to make Wolffe pause and listen as he pulls his bucket off his head. She's so soft, but this time there's a different edge to it; And standing in the hallway is when Wolffe finally realizes that she's talking about him. It's a miracle he didn't drop his bucket in a loud clatter to the floor in that instant.

Pup is saying things that Wolffe couldn't have dreamt about even coming from her mouth. Admitting that he’s in her dreams like she constantly takes a place in his. Detailing just how surreal it is to have him around her, just like it feels in his own mind. Pup is speaking exactly what Wolffe has been feeling for months and it's all Wolffe can to do try and stay quiet, just so he doesn't miss another word. Every syllable is spoken like she read it right from his heart, and Wolffe is so speechless that he's on the verge of busting through the house to find her and really show her exactly what a fever-dream he could provide for her.

But the moment he sees his brothers, all staring at his shadowed figure in the kitchen he realizes that they knew he was listening, and that now there was no turning back. Wolffe is feeling really pressured at this moment. Not because he doesn't love Pup -because he really does- but it's hard to traverse the admission with his men watching him for a reaction. They know nothing about his relationship with Pup, and he's kept it that way for fear of someone thinking it was unprofessional, and attempting to do something about it that would not only risk himself and the other men who need her, but Pup herself for providing care and warmth to men who were considered GAR property. He doesn't suspect that his men would ever do something like that, but there's this sense of fear that makes Wolffe present himself so emotionlessly. That is, until he can collect his own emotions for hearing her, and try to play it off.

Note: Wolffe is very skittish. And that's all to do with the treatment he faced after his fight with Ventress. He thinks very lowly of himself personally, but has an unbreakable expectation that he do everything exactly as it should be done without failure. This makes him a wonderful leader, but god-awful at admitting he has feelings aside from diplomatic neutrality. He's struggling to do the right thing here, when there really isn't a textbook example of how to handle expressing the emotion of know the person you love, admitting to loving you back in front of a small crowd. Wolffe doesn't understand that anything he could've chosen to do would've been acceptable here. But in the end, Wolffe's diplomacy is what guided the plot. (Once again, I only write for the characters, I hardly ever get creative liberty when coming to the conclusion of what my non-OC characters do. Even then, my OC's are very diligent in reminding me that they have their own personalities and I can't just make them do anything.)

Wolffe chooses what feels comfortable to him in this moment. At this point, everyone -including Pup- is waiting for him. And when he walks into the living room, his first instinct is to go where he feels the safest. And that's with her. (It's important that he sits at her feet and I'll tell you why in a moment.) Wolffe wants to be with her as best he can in this moment. He still feels that emotional relief and warmth of hearing her say she had the same feelings for him, but the last thing he wants to do is put either of them on the spot in front of his brothers that are appearing very worried and utterly confused at the moment. So to tone down the tension he'd accidentally created, he just does what feels right; And that's to let Pup know he's happy to see her, and give the apology he'd been meaning to all along.

"Sorry m'late."

From there, his men -sharp as ever- realize that he has wants to do this one his own, and Comet takes the initiative to take conversation somewhere else for the time being. He's silently grateful for that, and although he never says anything to them about it, Wolffe is certain that they did so on his behalf and wouldn't expect a thank you for it.

The rest of the night is easy to get lost in. His boys -always needing to show off- take turns coming into themselves again, and decide that a competition of war-stories and funny -albeit stupid- stories are in order. It feels natural like this, and Wolffe hasn't ever felt so proud having all of his brothers and his precious lady all in the same room where they can just be normal for a little while. He's extremely attentive to Pup's attempts at touching him, and he has to bite back a smile when he feels her secretive touches against his back. She's doing it on purpose to avoid his brother's notice, but Wolffe realizes she's probably just as nervous to be outright about it as well. After all, he'd not made a single comment about what she'd said, but he was kriffing surprised that it didn't change her desire to be close to him.

Note: Wolffe sat on the floor for a reason. And it wasn't my decision in the slightest. The way the living room sits, Pup has the best view of the room. Her back is to a corner, and the couch and chair that Boost, Sinker, and Comet occupy and positioned to face in her direction. It's strategic -and instinctual- that Wolffe put himself at the center of attention. That is basically a requirement that he head his squad at all times, and naturally he doesn't distinguish this scenario apart from any other. It's simply the Commanding Officer in him. But to a -wonderfully complex- part of Wolffe's character, he's doing it because that puts Pup at his back where he knows she's safe. His brother's aren't harmful in the slightest, but Wolffe knows that should there be a threat, he'll see them coming, and they'd have to go through him to get to her first. Protecting Pup is one of Wolffe's greatest motives throughout the entire fic, and this was one moment I wanted to play that theme out silently. (I don't know if anyone really picked up on it.)

This choice to sit at her feet appears very submissive to the Pack, and to Pup for that matter. But really Wolffe is subconsciously staking claim and protective charge over Pup without even realizing that he's doing so. For example; he could've picked her up and sat down in the chair with her in his lap, he could've sat down next to one of his brothers instead, or even chose to stand somewhere. But all of those choices leave Pup undefended. Wolffe doesn't see that he's doing it, and neither does anyone else in a very direct way. But if you pay attention to the way I toned the scene, you'll notice that Wolffe doesn't ever lose control of the room. Focus and power is always on him even when no one thinks wiser. It's what makes Wolffe such a commander figure all of the time. He has a natural predisposition to hold command, so even when Wolffe isn't trying have dominance, it's always present in the subtle way he moves, speaks, and presents himself to those around him.

***

Thank you for sending this in my love ☺️ I hope it wasn't too long, and you covered everything well enough! If not, let me know what I missed and I'd be glad to fill in the blank spots!

Much Love, Rightful 🤍

#commentary track #welcome company #commander wolffe #wolffe #pup #boost #sinker #comet #uponrightful #uponrightfulwrites

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dlwritings · 4 years

Text

Help in Three Phases | Tom Holland

masterlist found here

pairing - roommate!Tom x reader word count - 4,359 warnings - language, period talk, masturbation (f), use of vibrator, oral (f receiving), m/f sex A/N - idk I’m pmsing pretty bad and this is how I’m feeling so here we are

summary - Your period hits you in three phases, and after living with Tom for six months, he finally starts to catch on to what you need during each one.

You had been living with Tom for a long time, and you loved it. You got along really well and made the perfect pair of roommates. Growing up, the two of you had been best friends. When you wanted to move out of your parents’ house but couldn’t afford to live on your own yet, Tom felt it was only natural to offer up his spare bedroom. You’d only have to pay half the rent, and if you missed a month, Tom would have no difficulty covering for you.

There was only one problem that came from being so close to Tom, and that was your dating life. For years, guys wouldn’t approach you because they assumed you were with Tom. And when they found out you weren’t, they were scared away by the fact that you lived with him. It was completely infuriating. Yes, you had, from time to time, wondered what it might be like to cross that line with him, but you were just best friends, and you hated how much that hindered any option you had in the dating world. It grew especially frustrating during one specific time of the month.

You were two things when you were PMSing: irritable and clingy. Not a period cycle went by where you didn’t wish you were the weepy girl on her period. No. You were the pissy girl. You got mad at everything, and you knew you were the worst to be around. All of the problems started about three days before your period actually hit and didn’t end until three days later. So while most girls dealt with seven days of a period, you basically dealt with seven days of bleeding and six days of side effects. Thus, your period came in three phases.

Phase one.

The days before your period, you had cravings and mood swings. The first day you felt it coming this time around, you and Tom had just finished dinner, and you were eagerly anticipating digging into your ice cream that was waiting for you in the freezer. Only it wasn’t there. You felt your jaw and your fists clench in anger. “Thomas,” you started, “where’s my ice cream?”

“Hmm?” Tom hummed from where he was loading the dishwasher.

“Where’s my ice cream?” you repeated, turning on your heel to face him. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“You finished it two days ago,” he said.

“No I fucking did not,” you said. “I was specifically saving it for today.”

“Right,” Tom said slowly, “but then two nights ago, you got drunk and said to me, I was going to save this, but I’m gonna eat it now because -and I quote- fuck self control.”

“And you let me?” you snapped.

Tom scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Like I’m going to argue with drunk (Y/N) about whether or not she should eat her ice cream.” You groaned dramatically, slammed the freezer door shut, and stormed off to your room.

The next day, you were having a saltier craving. You were sitting in bed, watching an episode of New Girl, when you suddenly started to crave nachos. You pushed yourself out of bed and made your way to the kitchen, getting a plate from the cupboard and opening a bag of tortilla chips. When you opened the fridge to get some shredded cheese, you could feel your face grow hot in anger. “Are you fucking kidding me?” you mumbled to yourself. “This is easily the most frustrating fucking thing I’ve ever experienced.”

“What’s going on?” Tom asked from his spot on the couch.

“We don’t have any fucking shredded cheese!” you huffed. “How do we not have shredded fucking cheese?”

“Jesus Christ,” he chuckled.

“You’re going to wish Jesus Christ was here if we don’t get some shredded cheese in this house soon.”

The next day, on your way home from work, you stopped at the store to pick up some panty liners and chocolate. When you got home, you set the bag on the counter, the sound of rustling plastic peaking Tom’s interest. “What’d you get from the store?” he asked.

“Chocolate,” you said.

“Chocolate?” Tom repeated.

“For me,” you emphasized.

“Don’t you know sharing is caring?” he asked.

“Right,” you said. “Well, when you develop a uterus, consider my stash your stash.”

Phase two.

The next day, like clockwork, you woke up with an aching back, a nauseous stomach, and an immediate need to use the bathroom. This was the first part of the phase where your lack of significant other really put a damper on things. You were crabby, and all you wanted was to be held and cared for.

And after six months of living together, Tom finally started to notice your shift in mood during phase two. It wasn’t that he didn’t know you were on your period, and he wasn’t oblivious to the cranky stage that came before this one. But now, he was starting to realize just how upset you got during your period. Yes, you were still cranky, but you were also just down in the dumps. He never saw you cry, but then again, he never really saw you. You rarely left your room, but when you did, you had a permanent frown etched on your face.

Tom didn’t have any sisters, and none of his relationships had ever been serious enough that he saw a girlfriend through her periods. So, when it came to handling a girl when she was menstruating, he took advice from Harrison. After all, he had a sister. And Harrison told Tom to steer clear of you and give you space. So for that week each month, that’s what Tom did. But you were Tom’s best friend, and he loved you. Seeing you so upset and sitting back like it wasn’t happening was too difficult.

So this time around, Tom decided to change up the routine. You hadn’t come out for your ice cream yet, so he went to the freezer, got out your unopened pint of Ben and Jerry’s and a spoon, and made his way to your room. He knocked on the door, waited for your words of permission, and walked in. You had all the lights off and the shades drawn, so you were only illuminated by the TV screen where New Girl was playing. “Hey,” you mumbled. “Is my TV too loud?”

“No,” Tom said with a shake of his head. “No, I, uh, I brought you your ice cream.”

“Oh,” you said, surprise in your voice. “Thanks.”

“Yeah,” he said, walking over to your bed to hand it to you. “Do you want some company or anything?” Your eyebrows raised.

“Seriously?” you asked. The tips of Tom’s ears turned pink.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to bug you. I just thought-“

“No, no,” you said quickly. “I’m just surprised. You usually avoid me like the plague during this week.”

He chuckled awkwardly. “I guess I thought I was supposed to.”

“Let me guess,” you said with a grin. “Harrison?” Tom just smiled, so you patted the bed next to you, and he came to sit down, pulling the covers over his legs. You adjusted the hot pad on your back and relaxed again against the pillows. There was an awkward space between you and Tom, mostly because Tom didn’t want to overstep. It wasn’t that you guys didn’t cuddle, but he honest to god didn’t know how to approach you when you were on your period. What if he touched you and you just snapped?

But then he noticed how wiggly you were getting and opened his arms up. “Wanna cuddle?” he offered. You smiled gratefully and nodded, adjusting yourself again and cuddling up to his side.

“Sorry if my hot pad gets too warm,” you said.

“No worries,” he said, pulling you close to his side. “Whatever makes you feel better.” You nodded and nuzzled your cheek against his chest. Tom knew what kind of touches you liked best, so he moved his hand to the top of your head and started massaging your scalp and running your fingers through your hair. You hummed contently which made his heart feel warm.

“Thanks, Tommy,” you muttered. “I really needed this.”

“Of course, darling,” he whispered. “All you had to do was ask, and I’d be here.”

That was how you spent the rest of your free time during the week: cuddled up in bed with Tom watching New Girl. He made you dinner most days, and when he didn’t, it was because he ordered take out. 98-percent of you was thrilled, but then there were the other two. Being this close to Tom was fulfilling that desire you had for a significant other to be there for you, and it was messing with your head. You had been harboring a crush for Tom for as long as you had known him, but you had always been able to keep a lid on it. With him doing this for you, it was hard to stop yourself from bursting.

Phase three.

Your period was in the rear view mirror, but now came arguably the worst part. Because after your period, you were insanely horny. This time around, it was even worse. For that, you blamed Tom. And he may’ve been able to help during phase two, but no way were you going to ask him to help during phase three. No matter how badly you wanted to.

You got out of the shower and dried off, settling into clean sheets without putting on your pajamas. You kept the sheets off of you as you reached into your bedside drawer and pulled out your vibrator. It buzzed to life when you pressed the button, and you brought it straight to your nipples, running it over each of them until they were both hard. Then you trailed it down your stomach before pausing at your core. It was a rabbit, so it was made to stimulate your clit and your pussy at the same time. You were already clenching in anticipation as you teased yourself, letting the vibrator dance across your outer lips. Your thighs were slick with your juices, and you were able to slide the toy inside you with no problem.

Normally, you weren’t loud when you masturbated, but it took a lot to silence yourself. You often had your face buried in your pillow or your teeth biting harshly into your lower lip. That night, you were so far gone, keeping your moans quiet wasn’t exactly in the forefront of your mind. Your pussy was clenching the vibrator so tightly, and the vibrations were making your head hazy.

“Oh shit,” you breathed out. Every time you used the toy after a week of PMSing, you felt like you were in heaven. Sure, it was nothing compared to a real dick, but it sure did a damn good job at satisfying you.

You were sure Tom’s dick would be more satisfying though.

Then, you were picturing him railing into you, your face pressed against the mattress and his fingers leaving bruises on your hips. It wasn’t the first time you had thought about him while pleasuring yourself, but it was the first time his name left your lips while doing it.

“Tom,” you moaned. It wasn’t too loud, but you still forced your teeth to sink into your lower lip to stop it from happening again.

But the damage had already been done, because Tom walked right by your door when you said his name. He didn’t think anything of it, just assuming you heard him walking by and needed him for something. His light knock on the door caused your heart to race against your chest. You fumbled to get the covers over yourself but didn’t have time to turn off the vibrator before he came in. You gripped the sheets close to your chest and ignored the vibrator buzzing on the bed between your thighs. It was no longer inside you, but it was so close to your core that you were still feeling the shocks.

“What’s up?” you asked, praying you sounded chill.

“You called my name,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. You shook your head and frowned.

“No I didn’t,” you said. You knew you didn’t sound convincing. Tom furrowed his eyebrows but seemed amused.

“I swear you did,” he said. He opened his mouth to say something else, but closed it again when he heard something. “Is your phone going off?”

“What?” you said, feeling panic settling in your chest. “No.”

“Are you sure?” he said, patting his own pants pockets. “I hear something vibrating.”

“Nope,” you said, then laughed awkwardly. “You must be hearing things, Holland.”

Tom could tell you were hiding something, and he liked how flustered you seemed. It was funny to him. He took a few steps closer to you, and your body froze. “What are you doing?” you asked, hoping he didn’t notice your voice shake.

He laughed. “What is up with you?”

“Nothing!” you said. “Can’t you just go?”

“You’re hiding something,” he said. “And I only know one way to get you to spill.”

Your eyes grew wide at what he was insinuating. “No,” you said, shaking your head. “No, Tom, don’t.” He ignored you and jumped on the bed, gripping your hips over the sheets and tickling you. “Tom!” you said, trying to wiggle away from him while still keeping your body covered.

And then, he felt it.

The vibrator buzzed against his knee causing him to stop his actions in their tracks. You were mortified. Tom didn’t look at you. Instead, he looked down at his knee as if trying to stare through the sheet to see the toy in question. You didn’t know what to say. You were busted. There was no way around it. How were you going to talk your way out of this one?

What you hadn’t expected was for Tom to grab your sheet and pull it off your body. You were frozen in shock as you watched him. His eyes were still fixated on the vibrator, now noticing that it was covered in your slick. When he finally looked at you, you realized his pupils were so blown that his eyes looked black. You were waiting for him to say something or even leave the room in disgust. Instead, Tom picked up your vibrator and turned it over in his hands, not at all seeming to mind that it was wet.

“Do you think of me a lot when you do this?”

You opened your mouth and closed it again, and Tom surprised you by pressing the vibrator against your clit. A choked out moan passed your lips and your hips lifted. “Answer me,” he said.

“Yes,” you cried. “Yes, I do, Tom.” He pulled the vibrator away, and you whined at the feeling. He looked up at you again, and you felt embarrassed tears come to your eyes as you closed your legs and covered your chest with your arms. “I’m so sorry,” you said. “Please, please just go, and I’ll never-“

“Open your legs.”

Your eyes widened as you tried to process what he said. You looked at him and saw he was staring at your body.

“What?” you said. Tom lifted his head to look in your eyes, and his expression softened.

“You tell me you don’t want my help,” he said, “and I’ll go. But-“ He cut himself off, needing to clear his throat to stop his voice from cracking. “-fuck, let me help you.”

Instead of answering him with words, you moved your hands from your chest and spread your legs apart. Tom wasted no time situating himself between your legs, your vibrator still in his hand. He licked his lips before bringing the toy to your cunt, pushing it inside you inch by inch. His mouth watered at how eager your pussy was to take the vibrator, and he imagined how tightly you’d squeeze his cock.

The smaller part of the vibrator pressed against your clit every time Tom pushed the toy inside you. He worked it slowly, and you were writhing on the bed above him. You both jumped when his finger hit one of the buttons, and the vibration setting changed. “How many different vibrations are there?” he asked you, not taking his eyes off your cunt.

“Uh, huh, 30,” you stuttered.

“30,” Tom repeated, like he was testing the number on his lips. “‘S a lot.”

“Mhm,” you hummed.

“You use them all?” he asked.

“Not all the time,” you managed to say. He pulled the toy out of you until just the tip was inside. You whined and tried to lift your hips, but he put his arm across your stomach to stop you. He pressed the button again, trying out another vibration. He kept clicking until he stopped on one whose pattern and intensity intrigued him.

“You like this one?” he asked. He sounded genuinely curious, but you were too focused on the fact that Tom was holding a vibrator against your cunt to answer him in any significant way.

“I like them all,” you said. Your eyes were closed, so you couldn’t see the smirk that danced across Tom’s lips. He thrust the toy inside you causing you to cry out in pleasure. Every time he pulled it away and the small part left your clit, you wanted to beg him to put it back. He always did. His thrusts were slow but rough, pounding the toy inside you so it hit the right spots each time.

When you could feel yourself getting close to the edge, you bit your lip to stop yourself from saying something you might regret. Tom noticed.

“Wanna hear you say it,” he muttered, pulling the toy away from where you wanted it most. You forced your eyes open to see Tom was biting his lower lip. His pupils were still blown, but his expression was soft, almost vulnerable. How was he the vulnerable one right then?

You knew what he wanted, and when he pushed the toy back inside you, his name fell from your lips. With a few more thrusts, you were cumming. You grabbed Tom’s hand and forced him to keep the toy in place, the vibrations destroying your clit in the best way possible. Your moans were so wrecked, and the way you called Tom’s name like a prayer made his already hard dick throb in his sweats.

When he pulled the toy out of you, he noticed the way your pussy clenched around nothing. He shut the toy off, and you kept your eyes closed, trying to catch your breath. You were so focused on coming down from your high that you shrieked when you felt Tom’s mouth on your core. “Tommy,” you moaned, gripping his hair in your hands. He lapped up your cunt, savoring each drop of your cum like he wouldn’t let any of it go to waste. He could tell by how you wanted him to use the toy that you needed clit stimulation, so he gave you that. He rolled your clit with his tongue, pressing down on it with just the right amount of pressure. Your thighs started squeezing his head, but he held them apart, growling in warning against your cunt. You cried out, begging him for something you couldn’t quite word. Whatever it was, he somehow knew, because he had you cumming again in just the right number of minutes. He let you savor it; he didn’t rush it.

You looked down at him when he pulled away, and you noticed his lips were coated in your orgasm. You smiled in embarrassment as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He surprised you when he started kissing up your body. His lips stopped at your jaw, and he pulled back to look in your eyes. You stared at each other for a few moments before you both moved a fraction closer to each other to close the space between you in a kiss. It wasn’t as desperate and needy as you expected it to be, and you hoped and prayed that this meant something to Tom like it did to you. He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to yours. “You say the word and I’m done,” he said. “No pressure. No obligation. No-“

You cut him off. “Fuck me, Tom.” The corner of his lip raised into his cheeky smirk, and he kissed you again. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t surprised by the affectionate action, but you loved it. You kissed him back, wrapping your legs around his waist and rubbing your core against the bulge in his pants. You gripped his t-shirt in your fists and tugged it up his body until he pulled away and yanked it over his head, tossing it to the side. He sat back on his heels and tugged his sweats and boxers down at the same time, moving around to take them off completely. His dick was even better than you imagined it might be. He was the perfect length, and he was thick, the tip red and already leaking precum.

“Shit,” Tom muttered. “Do you have a condom?”

You sighed. “No.”

“Alright,” he said. “I’ve got some in my room.”

“Mm, okay,” you hummed, pressing your thighs together. “Hurry back.” You moved your hand slowly down your stomach, then traced up and down your thighs. You swore you’d never seen someone move as quickly as Tom did then, jumping off your bed and rushing out the door. When he came back, he already had the condom packet open, which made you giggle. He grinned and got back on the bed, rolling the condom on his length with a satisfied sigh. You thought he would push into you right away, but instead, he brought his lips down to yours again. He didn’t quite let them press together, just hovered over your lips before kissing across your cheek and to your ear.

“Tell me, love,” he said. “What do you think about when you think of me?”

Your breath caught in your throat as he lined himself up, letting the tip of his cock brush against your clit. “Ah, fuck,” you breathed out. “Hard and fast. Choking me. Pulling my hair. Fuck-” Tom thrust into you without warning, giving you no time to adjust before pounding into you. He watched your eyes roll to the back of your head as your mouth gaped open. Your head almost hit the headboard with the force he was fucking you, and the room was full of your moans and slapping skin.

Tom surprised you when he pulled out of you so he could turn you over and slam into you from behind. He pulled you up by your hair so your back was arched, and you cried out in pleasure. “Yes,” you screamed. “Just like that, Tom. Fuck!” He pulled you up even more so your back was flush to his chest, and he moved his hand from your hair to your throat.

Again, better than you imagined.

He cut off your airflow just enough to make your head feel hazy. “You like that?” he muttered in your ear. “Fuck, you’re squeezing my cock so tight, you must love it.”

“Tom,” you gasped out.

“You gonna cum for me, darling?” he asked. You nodded as much as you could, and Tom pressed a little tighter against your neck. “Cum for me. Cum all over my cock.” You moaned, your voice cracking as you did so. “Fuck, yes,” Tom said as you milked his cock. “‘M gonna cum. Oh fuck.” With a few more thrusts, Tom spilled into the condom, his hips stuttering as he finished. He pulled out of you as you collapsed onto the bed with a sigh. You laid in bed, your eyes closed, as Tom fell beside you. He took off the condom and tied it off before throwing it in the trash beside your bed. You were both breathing heavily, and neither of you knew what to say or who should speak first.

“Wow,” you finally said.

Tom chuckled. “Yeah. Wow.” You turned your head to look at him, and he did the same. Tom licked his lips and darted his eyes between yours. “So, what, um-” He hesitated. “What do we do now?” You swallowed thickly and stared up at the ceiling again. This was it. This was when you had to lie and say it was just sex, because you were sure that was what he would want.

Tom seemed to read your mind. “Maybe this isn’t the right time to say this,” he said, “but I really like you, (Y/N).” You looked at him again and saw how small and nervous his smile was. “You’re my best friend, but, but I’ve felt more than best friend feelings for you for a long time now.” You turned on your side and faced him.

“Really?” you asked, reaching over to stroke his cheek with the back of your hand.

He chuckled and mirrored your position. “Yeah, love. Really.” You smiled and leaned over, pressing a kiss to his lips. When you pulled away, you were still smiling.

“I feel the same,” you said. He smiled and turned you over so you were on your back and he was hovering over you again. He peppered kisses all over your face until you were a giggling mess under him. “You’re so weird,” you said. “How can you go from choking me to this in a matter of minutes?” Tom’s expression shifted a bit, and he brushed his fingers lightly across your neck.

“That was okay?” he asked.

“Mhm,” you hummed. “More than okay.” You tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled him close to you again. “Just so you’re prepared, my sex drive after shark week is always crazy high. And choking-” You brushed your lips across his. “-that’s just the beginning of what I’m into.”

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wefoundloveunderthelight · 3 years

Text

Nowhere to Run by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jonesfandomfanatic @jrob64 @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s

The song referenced in this chapter is “We are Glass” by Thompson Square. You can hear the song here:

It’s a beautiful song and I felt it really summed up the characters in this story.

Chapter 10: We are Glass

Killian spent the next couple of weeks recovering in the hospital. He asked Robin to stay at his place to keep an eye on Emma and Henry, yet Emma spent most of her time next to his bed side when she wasn’t sitting in the corner of the room with Henry on her lap, teaching him his school lessons.

She told him how she had been teaching Henry everything she could while they were on the run. He could read and write, knew his arithmetic, and was an excellent artist. He found that even when he was tired, he would spend his time watching the two with reverence. Emma was a patient mother, but Henry was also an exceptional child.

“Did it hurt when you got shot?” The boy mused as he sat on the end of his bed, peeking up from between the cards in his hands.

“Aye. I would say it was pretty painful. Go fish, by the way.” He paused. “But the pain was replaced quickly by a sense of numbness, I guess, so I didn’t feel it long.” He stretched restlessly, looking down at his cards. “Have any 3’s?”

The boy narrowed his eyes, looking through his cards. “Go fish.” He smirked. “Do you think my dad is going to get out of prison and come after us again?”

Killian placed his cards against his chest. “I don’t think so lad. He’s going to have a trial. He has that right. The state will present its evidence, and he’ll face any consequences that he’s found guilty of. But you don’t have to worry, Henry. Even if he does get out, he’ll never get near you or your mom again.”

“But what about you? Who’s going to protect you?”

“Well, I’ve got Captain Nolan, and my partner Robin. Will and Belle…”

“And mom and me.” He said proudly.

Killian’s heart swelled. “You’d protect me? I’m honored.”

“Is Rogers ok?” His nose scrunched in worry.

“He’s staying with Will. He’s not a young pup anymore, so the old boy needed a lot of help getting better. But when they finally let me out of here, he’s gonna come back and live with me.”

“Will me and mom live with you?”

Killian swallowed nervously. He and Emma hadn’t talked about the future yet. There was still so much for them to resolve. Ten years was a long time to be apart, especially when the last time they had seen each other they were not in a good place.

“Your mom and I have a lot to talk about still.”

“Are you really married to my mom?” Continuing his barrage of questions.

He sighed. “Aye.”

“That must have been weird having her gone for ten years then. I bet you missed her.”

“More than all the stars in the world.”

“She used to tell me stories about you.” The boy said, his eyes wide as saucers.

“Did she now?” He mused.

“Sometimes you were a cop fighting bad guys, other times you were a swashbuckling pirate searching for treasure, and sometimes you were a Lieutenant in the Royal Navy sailing off on a ship to save the princess. Mom tells the best stories, but they were always about you.”

Killian’s eyes glassed over, bending his head to reach up and swipe at his face. “Your mother has quite the imagination, but I’m happy to be able to oblige for your entertainment.”

“Who’s hungry?” Emma’s voice filled the room as she came carrying a tray of food and drinks. “The doc says you are off your diet.”

Killian groaned happily as she sat the hamburger down on the tray in front of him. The first real food he would get to eat in weeks. He bit into the burger immediately, moaning loudly as soon as he tasted the meat on his tongue. Emma was staring at him, her mouth slightly agape. “Wut?” He said between chews.

“Nothing.” She said with an embarrassing glance away from him, her cheeks turning a bright shade of red. At least he still had some sort of effect on her, he thought.

“How did the call with Liam go?” She sat down in the chair next to him, pulling a grilled cheese sandwich into her hands.

“He was happy to hear that Neal is behind bars. He’s going to come visit soon when the girls are on holiday. He wanted me to tell you how gutted he was knowing everything you’ve been through.”

She shrugged, something she did often when he mentioned her past with Neal. “It will be nice to see him again. The girls must be so big now.”

“Aye. Twelve and sixteen now. He has his hands full for sure.”

She took a bite of her sandwich, watching Henry coloring at the end of Killian’s bed. “He’s not bothering you is he?”

“We were just playing a game of Go Fish. I think he cheats.” He whispered loudly, earning a complaint from Henry. Emma let out a pleasant laugh, something he was happy to earn from her.

“Doctor says you might get out of here tomorrow.”

“That’s my hope as well. I can’t wait to see Rogers.”

“I’m glad he’s alright. The old boy’s a survivor.” Emma mused.

“Aye, that he is.”

“I made an appointment for Henry and I to go see Dr. Hopper next week.” She said with a sad smile. “Figured I might need to talk through some things before we have to face Neal again at trial.”

“Hop’s a good man.”

“You know him?”

“Aye.” He nodded, not wanting to get into the fact that he knew him because he had been his patient, after Emma had left, when the world crumbled at his feet.

“I’ve been looking for a place to stay once you get released from the hospital. I know you’re going to need your bed to recover.”

Killian bit his lip. He knew they needed to discuss this. He didn’t want her to leave, but he also knew that they had a lot to work through if they were going to ever find their way back to each other. If she still wanted that.

“I can talk to Will. He had a vacancy across the hall from him a couple of weeks ago.”

“That would be nice, thank you.”

“Emma…”

“Hey there.” Killian stared at Emma’s face as David entered the room. “How ya feeling?” He turned, facing his boss.

“Doing great, going home tomorrow, I’ll be back on the streets before you know it.” He grinned cheekily.

“Yeah you’re taking some time off, buddy.”

“What?” He complained.

“Take a vacation, Killian. You’ve earned some time off. Robins got your cases locked down right now.”

“Cap, I’m fine.”

“It’s an order, Detective.” He walked over to Emma and smiled, she suddenly reached up and wrapped him into a hug.

“You look better.” He said softly.

“I feel better, I feel like I’ve gained ten pounds just eating three meals a day.” She chuckled, but both David and Killian glanced uncomfortably at each other.

“Hey, don’t do that. I’m fine.” She glared. “I don’t want you treating me any differently than you did when we were at the academy.” She winked up at David, “Still top of my class, sir.”

“It’s good to have you back Emma.” David smiled with a genuine air of happiness.

Three months later

Emma picked the shirt off the floor in Henry’s room, tossing it into the hamper. “Did you remember to pack a toothbrush?” The boy appeared from behind the doorway, poking his head into the room.

“Yup. It’s in the front pocket of my duffle.” He disappeared again and then reappeared. “Are you gonna be ok with this?”

Emma smiled at him. “Of course, I am, why would you ask that?”

“Cuz this is my first sleepover away from you that isn’t over at Killian’s.”

“I’ll be fine, Henry. I actually have plans tonight.”

He moved quickly into the room. “What kind of plans?”

She sat down on the bed. “I kinda have a date tonight.”

“Does Killian know?” He asked with a shocked look of disgust on his face.

“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about before you left.” He sat down next to her. “My date is with Killian.”

He jumped up from the bed and pumped his arms in the air. “Yes.”

Emma laughed. “Does that mean you’re ok with this?”

“Of course, I am. Killian’s the best. He even lets me stay up until 11pm when I stay over at his place.”

“Well, I’ll have to talk to him about that, but I’m glad you like him.” She wrapped her arms around Henry’s waist and hugged him tightly. “I love you, buddy. I hope you have fun tonight. And if you need me at all, you know you can call me.” She tousled his hair and kissed his cheek.

There was a knock on the door and Henry pushed away from her. “Gotta go, love you mom.”

Emma looked around Henry’s room, pictures he had drawn hanging on the wall. Her favorite one was hanging above the bed. It was of her, Henry, Killian, and Rogers playing at the park.

As difficult as returning home had been, they had settled into a pretty simple life. Emma and Henry had moved into their own apartment in Will’s complex. It was nice to have a friendly face around now and then when she found herself getting anxious on nights when Henry was sleeping over at Killian’s or when she would wake from a terrifying dream.

Will was always gracious no matter the time she found herself standing in front of his door with a bottle of rum in her hands. He would always sit up with her and listen to her talk about the first thing that came to her mind, something Dr. Hopper had suggested she try to take her mind off her nightmares. She didn’t know when it happened but before she knew it, he had become one of her closest friends.

And then there was Killian.

She wasn’t surprised that Henry had latched onto him so quickly. Killian was great with him, always patient, always offering to assist him with whatever the boy required. Which was often a lot as he was a growing boy who was adjusting to the freedom of being able to go outside and roam. Killian made sure he found new foods for him to try, adventures to experience, even new clothes to wear on his first day at a real school. Watching him with her son, the joy on his face, had her falling in love with him all over again. Of course, she hadn’t told him that. She was nervous about moving too quickly with him. Dr. Hopper told her that was normal. She had experienced a trauma and loss that not many people would cope with.

In her last session, she told her therapist that she wanted to try again with Killian. She had spent the last three months trying to figure out what her life would become now that she was home. She needed to learn who Emma was before she could deal with being Mrs. Jones again.

Killian had presented her with their divorce papers, gave her the choice to sign them and start her life fresh. She put it off, telling him that she needed some time to think before she made any big decisions in her life. He was patient and told her he understood but Emma knew that if he had his way, he would rip them to shreds.

Emma was volunteering at a small clinic that Mary Margaret worked at on the weekends, talking to victims of domestic abuse and rape. Currently she was taking it slow, still not understanding her own trauma that she had endured enough to feel like she had all the answers, but just being there with them to let them know they weren’t alone, and that someone understood what they had gone through. It was freeing to Emma to be able to own her story, to not feel ashamed anymore.

Dr. Hopper told her that was a form of acceptance. Owning what happened to you, claiming it as your story. She would never be over what Neal had done to her, stealing her dignity, laying waste to her self-esteem. But she refused to be defined by it. She didn’t want to be Emma Swan, rape victim. She was Emma Jones, survivor.

Today was going to be another step in her journey. Killian was taking her on a date. She remembered his face as they were eating lunch, a short break during his shift.

“We should go out.” She said nonchalantly between bites.

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Maybe, but I have to ask you a few questions first.” He raised his eyebrow, leaning forward for her to continue.

“Ask away.”

“I need to know if you ok going on a date with someone who is probably always going to be a little bit damaged.”

He shrugged, “Aren’t we all? I like to think I can absorb a little damage.”

“Ok then, last thing…” She grinned. “You gotta like kids or it’s a deal breaker.”

He laughed loudly, “Aye, I adore Henry.” He shrugged, “So, do I win a date with the beautiful woman who currently has a mayonnaise mustache?” He reached out, wiping the offending condiment from her lip, eliciting shockwaves through her body.

That was the moment she knew she was ready. She had felt excitement from his touch instead of withdrawing the moment he made contact.

He had insisted on being the one to plan the date, as much as she was sure she could still plan a night out, she had to admit that it took some of the pressure off. He wouldn’t tell her where they were going, only that it was somewhere she had been asking to go for a while and he felt she had earned it. Whatever that meant.

She slipped into the pink dress, pulling the straps over her shoulders. Looking in the mirror, she barely recognized herself. She looked feminine, happy, with a glint of hope in her eyes. The tears slipped onto her cheek; Neal had not stolen everything from her.

There was a knock on her door, a smile crept on her face. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and centering her mind. She was taking control of her life tonight.

Opening the door, she couldn’t control the shiver she felt when she saw him come into view. The man she fell in love with so many years ago was standing in front of her. Sure, he was older, the hint of grey kissing his hair, fine lines around his eyes, but he was even more gorgeous today than she remembered him all those years ago. This was the man who was willing to give up his life for her, loved her enough to save her, even if it meant he couldn’t have her.

“You look…”

“I know.” She giggled, accepting the rose he passed toward her. Her nose inhaled the fragrance of the flower, eyes glancing down his frame, the anticipation of the rest of their evening taking her to new heights.

“Shall we?”

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

“Patience is a virtue, love.” He winked.

She rolled her eyes but followed him out to his car. They drove in silence, her hands folded in her lap. The soft sounds of the radio playing through the car.

Trying to live and love,

With a heart that can't be broken,

Is like trying to see the light with eyes that can't be opened.

Yeah, we both carry baggage,

We picked up on our way, so if you love me do it gently,

And I will do the same.

Emma felt the tears sting her eyes. The lyrics breaking into her heart as she chanced a glance at the man sitting beside her, his eyes focused on the road, his jaw tensed, that familiar vein popping from the side of his neck. He never forgot her in all the time she had been gone. She knew how he felt about her. The way he loved her. He’d been so patient with her these last few months. Not pushing her either out the door or into his heart.

We may shine, we may shatter,

We may be picking up the pieces here on after,

We are fragile, we are human,

We are shaped by the light we let through us,

We break fast, cause we are glass.

'Cause we are glass.

He turned toward her, a smile ghosting on his lips that held onto hope. When she walked out the door ten years ago, she knew she still loved him, that she would always love the man who had risked everything for her. Now she knew that back then, before everything went to hell, she was being stubborn walking away, letting her fear of the unknown hold her captive.

I'll let you look inside me, through the stains and through the cracks,

And in the darkness of this moment,

You see the good and bad.

But try not to judge me, 'cause we've walked down different paths,

But it brought us here together, so I won't take that back.

She exhaled, a stray tear slipping against her cheek. She let it fall, not afraid of her emotions anymore. She had been stubborn; she should have known that they would have made anything work. Instead, she walked away and ended up in a hell she couldn’t control.

We might be oil and water, this could be a big mistake,

We might burn like gasoline and fire,

It's a chance we'll have to take.

Emma was ready to let go of all of that. To let go of the ten years she had been robbed of, to forget all the stubborn and foolish decisions that had gotten them to this moment. She wanted to reclaim her life. She wanted to take back what was owed to her.

We are glass.

The song referenced in this chapter is “We are Glass” by Thompson Square. You can hear the song here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tPd1GIwjRFMIt’s a beautiful song and I felt it really summed up the characters in this story.

#stacy's fics #nowhere to run #killian jones #emma swan #captain swan #captain swan fics #captain swan au #captain swan modern au #emma jones

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whitesparrows97 · 4 years

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Heartstring Melodies – Part 1

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Soulmate AU, College AU, fuckboy!Yoongi

Summary: Min Yoongi, the fuckboy of the whole college and the guy all girls fall for, should be your soulmate? You don’t believe that, you don’t want to believe that. Therefore, you and your best friend make a pact: She pretends to be you and gets together with Yoongi. Nothing can go wrong with that, right?

Warnings: Light swearing

Word Count: 3.8K

Chapter One: «The course of true love never did run smooth.» – w.s.

Lost in thought, you pushed the strap of your backpack, which had slipped down, back onto your shoulder. You searched for the familiar bunch of black hair, but it wasn’t easy among the many groups of people standing in front of the library. A waving arm ended your search and with a little smile you headed in the direction of your best friend. No sooner had you reached her than you were pulled into a tight embrace. Your laughter was muffled by the body in front of you as you returned the hug.

“We last saw each other two days ago, Liv,” you laughed as she released her grip around your body and smiled at you.

She shrugged as you walked towards the entrance of the building. “I hardly have anyone else but you,” she said softly and you could only hear her because it was so quiet in the library. “Besides, I’ve missed you.”

“We really should have studied the same subject,” you muttered.

The three years of university would probably be a lot more fun and more exciting if the two of you sat next to each other in the lecture hall. But you knew that your passions and interests were in different areas. Liv would probably go insane if she had to listen to daily seminars about the salinity of the sea or hear the word ‛photosynthesis’ one more time. On the other hand, you would probably lose it if you had to hear the names Nietzsche, Sartre or Aristotle more than once a week.

You were aware that you shouldn’t make compromises when it came to your future. And it wasn’t as if you never saw Liv; on the contrary, you saw each other practically every day at lunchtime or after your lectures.

“Are you going to the lab later?” Liv asked as you sat down at an empty table.

You let yourself sink onto the chair, exhausted from the long day, and took your papers out of your backpack. “I don’t think so,” you replied and brushed a few strands of hair aside that had fallen into your face when you shook your head.

“Jin will be disappointed,” Liv teased but you ignored her ambiguous undertone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said and tried to concentrate on the text you were supposed to read. However, your concentration was immediately interrupted when a hand placed itself on yours. Surprised, you looked up.

“Honestly, Y/N,” Liv started and you had the feeling that you didn’t want to hear the next part of her question. “What is going on between you and Jin?”

You pulled your hand out of her grip and dropped both hands in your lap as you leaned back against the chair. “Nothing,” you said, but Liv raised her eyebrows. “Really, he’s a good friend, and he knows I want nothing more than that. A good friendship.”

“If you say so,” Liv said in conclusion, but not without giving you a quick examing look.

The silence around you tempted your thoughts to buzz all the louder in your head and from minute to minute it became more difficult to concentrate on the text in front of you. You knew that the relationship between you and Jin was purely platonic. But you were afraid that it wasn’t as clear to him. Even though you made it more than clear to him after he asked you out for coffee a few weeks ago.

You gave Liv a belated angry look and cursed her for even bringing the topic up. Your eyes fell again on the text in front of you and with a sigh you turned to the next page. You were just about to look at the different types of sponges when you heard Liv gasp.

You looked up in wonder, but her gaze was directed at something behind you. You suppressed the impulse to turn around and look to see what had made her lose her voice.

“What?” you asked and couldn’t prevent the annoyed undertone. You had come to the library because you wanted to be well prepared for your homework and the laboratory work that went with it.

“Oh my God,” Liv croaked out. She was still staring intently at something behind you. “He looks so good,” you heard her whisper and you knew exactly who it was about.

With an eye roll you grabbed the pencil you had dropped on the table and continued to underline important passages in the text. “You’d better concentrate on your studies, Liv,” you said and watched out of the corner of your eye as her head snapped towards you.

“How?” she said a bit too loud and got some angry glances from the students around you. “How can I concentrate if a man like Min Yoongi exists?” With a sigh she let her head fall into her hands and stared in the direction of the man she was talking about.

“If you keep staring like that, he will notice it,” you stated, but a little smile played around the corners of your mouth as you remembered a situation from a few weeks ago.

“Hopefully,” Liv said and the same situation seemed to have entered her head as well.

“How long has he looked at you last time?” you asked, thinking pretentiously. You knew the answer only too well, Liv had told you often enough. “One second? Or was it even two?”

“Make fun of me,” she replied and lowered her hands. “But the one second he looked at me was the best in my life.”

“Wow, then the rest of your life must be very sad,” you muttered and laughed when you had to dodge the pen that flew in your direction. “You’re not even sure if he was really looking at you.”

“So what? He looked in my direction, which is more than some girls on this campus can dream of.”

You shook your head in disbelief. You didn’t understand how you could be so attracted to someone you had never spoken to before. Especially to someone like Min Yoongi. Your thoughts spat out the name and you had to control yourself not to pull a face when the image of the man came into your head.

Objectively speaking, he was handsome. Even you could see that. But what was the point of all that good looks when the character was nothing but a big pile of junk? And in Min Yoongi’s case, his personality took on the dimensions of a whole garbage dump.

Unfortunately, most girls on campus had a different opinion than you and they made it all too clear should they ever cross paths with him in the hallways or the cafeteria. You imagined that this only confirmed Min Yoongi in his ego even more. And it was well known that Yoongi rarely ever said no to a beautiful girl; at least if you could believe the rumors. Actually, him and his small group of friends had made a name for themselves, to live up to those rumors.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you noticed how Liv held her breath. A second later you saw the reason for her behavior when none other than Min Yoongi himself walked past your table. You watched him for a moment as he, his hands buried in the pocket of his black torn jeans, disappeared behind one of the many shelves.

“Please don’t start to freak out,” you said, half joking, half serious.

“Why is he here?”, Liv asked instead, stretching her neck, to get another look at the man. “He never goes to the library.”

“You sound like a stalker,” was the only thing you replied and returned to your homework.

“Y/N,” Liv tried to whisper, but her voice was louder than she had planned so she was almost shouting your name. Again you felt the annoyed looks of the students around you. One boy even clicked his tongue in irritation and groaned before turning his gaze away from you to bury his nose back in his book. “He’s coming here,” she finished her sentence, and you were glad that she had the volume of her voice under control this time.

When you looked up, you knew that Liv was not exaggerating this time. Your gaze met that of Min Yoongi and for a moment it seemed as if the few noises of the quiet library around you were blurring into a loud humming. You felt your heartbeat pounding in your throat as you looked into the dark eyes of the man who wore an indefinable expression.

He had drawn his eyebrows together in confusion and turned his gaze towards the floor for a moment as he continued to walk towards your table. Your table was the last one in the row and was therefore closest to the aisle he had just come from. Before you could get your thoughts in order, or calm down Liv who was shifting nervously in her chair, Min Yoongi had stopped in front of you.

“Hi,” he greeted you and his deep voice was what made you avert your gaze from him and release you from your rigidity. He cleared his throat briefly and pointed with his thumb over his shoulder towards the aisle behind him. “I’m looking for a book on composers of the 20th century. Do you know where I can find the music section? I’m not here that often,” he added the last part, and if you didn’t know better, he seemed almost embarrassed as he rubbed his hand over his neck.

Your eyes fell on Liv for a moment and you realized immediately that she was beyond help. Her eyes were two big hearts and her mouth hung slightly open as she looked up at the man in front of her. You suppressed an eye roll and turned your gaze back to the man in front of you who looked at you.

With the pen in your hand you pointed to the other end of the library. “If you go down this corridor, almost to the end, you’ll find everything about music,” you explained to him and he looked in the direction you were pointing. “I think that what you’re looking for is in the aisle next to contemporary art. But I’m not entirely sure about that.”

Yoongi turned his gaze back to you and a grin spread across his face; he was back to his old, arrogant self. Too bad, he had been very nice until now. Almost too nice…

“Thank you,” he said and mustered you once from to head to toe. You had to supress the urge to make yourself smaller in your chair.

“If there’s nothing else,” you said as an invitation for him to leave and trying to get him to look away from you as quickly as possible. But he raised an eyebrow when he heard the tone of your voice and the distinct disinterest when you turned back to the papers in front of you.

“Sorry,” said Liv, and her voice was an octave too high when she spoke. “She doesn’t mean it like that,” she tried to explain and you flinched as her foot came into contact with your shin.

“No problem,” he replied and took a look at the text you tried to read. “Well, I’d better let you two get back to work. We don’t want Mommy and Daddy to be disappointed,” he added and you raised your eyes briefly to shoot him an angry look. Asshole…

He gave you another smug grin before he went in the direction you pointed. You already regretted having helped him at all. Although he had been so nice for the first few seconds. It was probably all part of his tactics to get girls into bed.

The next minutes you had to listen to the whispered, excited monologue of Liv, who told you over and over again what had just happened. As if you hadn’t been there yourself. Sighing, you stowed your folders in your backpack when you were sure you wouldn’t be able to do anything productive today. Especially not with your hyperactive best friend, who seemed to be vibrating with excitement in her chair. You, and probably all students around you, were happy when you both left the library and headed to the dorms.

Unlike you, Liv lived in her own apartment not far from campus. So you gave her credit for taking you to the building where you had your apartment, which you shared with two other girls. Then again, she had a lot to make up for after the last two hours. After you two said your good-byes and you climbed up the stairs to the fourth floor, your thoughts inevitably drifted to the incident a few minutes earlier.

You still saw the briefly confused look on his face as he had approached you. The black hair had fallen into his face, so you hardly noticed how he pulled his eyebrows together. Something had been strange at the moment your eyes met. You had never experienced anything like it; that feeling as if everything around you was disappearing and your focus was only on one person for a split second.

You snorted when you noticed how much this thought reminded you of romantic love stories. A woman met a man and it was like love at first sight. Everything except for the other person became meaningless. You would describe yourself as not a particularly romantic person. Sure, you wouldn’t mind if a man gave you flowers or some other small gift. But for that you would have to have a man who would find you interesting enough to go out with you in the first place.

Yet you were strictly against the romanticizing that took place in so many movies, books, music and real life. Your stomach almost turned when a term came into your mind which you tried to erase from your thoughts as soon as it entered your head.

Soulmates.

With a little more force than necessary, you yanked open the zipper of your backpack to look for the key card of your apartment. Soulmates were an invention of a cruel god or higher power who had grown bored and wanted to see people suffer. There was no other way you could explain what the whole thing was for. There was nothing worse for you than the thought that your future and your life partner were predetermined.

And even worse was that it could hit you every day. There was no particular age at which soulmates found each other. You could find them when you were two, playing with them in the playground. Or you could find them at 92, sitting in your rocking chair at the retirement home. Many people never found them either and died without ever having a name on their skin. What a disappointment so many people went through, just because they never found their soulmate.

Did that make other relationships less valuable? Did it make life less worth living? Not in your eyes. You couldn’t understand how many people cared that much about a tattoo that put more pressure on you than it helped. You hoped that you would never have that problem and that the spot on your skin right over your heart would remain empty forever.

This thought had just crossed your mind when you suddenly felt a hot sting in your chest. The key card to your apartment slipped out of your grasp as your hand shot up to the spot right under your left breast. “Fuck,” you mumbled and tried to apply some pressure on the spot, hoping to take away some of the pain. In vain.

It felt like the burning was working its way into your chest until it finally enveloped you completely and for a second you felt like you were on fire. As fast as it had come, as fast the feeling ebbed away and a moment later you stood breathless in the hallway in front of your door. You leaned against the wall next to it and tried to get your breath under control.

Was that a heart attack? Or a stroke?

With shaking fingers you picked up the key card from the floor. It took you three attempts until the door finally opened and you were able to enter the apartment. As you brushed off your shoes, you ran your hand over the spot under your breast. Your eyes widened and you froze completely in your movement when a thought occurred to you.

No. No, it could not be. What a coincidence it would be if at the very moment you were upset about soulmates…

You shook your head, you didn’t want to think for a second about what might be on your skin. A name that would turn your life upside down.

You ignored the warmth that seemed to radiate from your chest as you stepped into the kitchen of the small apartment. You had never been happier than now that your two roommates weren’t home yet. A few minutes alone was exactly what you needed. You didn’t feel ready to answer the questions of the two curious girls when they noticed that something was wrong with you. It wouldn’t take them five minutes to figure out what was wrong with you.

You had lost your appetite, so you left the kitchen and went straight to your room. While you were sitting at your desk, hoping to finally be able to get some homework done, your thoughts recalled the past day. You tried to remember all the faces that you had met for the first time today. There were probably hundreds of them, if you thought about the hustle and bustle that was happening on campus every day.

Was there anyone that you spoke to for the first time? One more thing that indicated for the cruelty of the gods or spirits that invented soulmates. It could happen that you were sitting next to your soulmate day in, day out on the way to work on the same train. You would see each other every day, maybe for years. The name on your chest, however, only appeared after you had exchanged your first words with the person. That was another reason why so many people never knew who their soulmate was.

Your eyes fell on your phone, which was lying next to you on the desk and your fingers twitched in that direction. For a moment you toyed with the idea of calling your father, but you knew better and let your hand fall back into your lap.

Instead, you tried again to remember the day and to recall the conversations that took place. In your chemistry class, you had a short conversation with another student who asked if he could borrow a pen from you. At the cash desk at the cafeteria there was a new temp, a young man, probably in his mid-twenties. He had handed you your food and asked you if that was all or if there was anything else you wanted to get. On the way to the library you had not met another person.

It took you a moment to stretch the time line further and your heart skipped a beat when you thought about the conversation at the library. For the third time today you froze and sat on your chair as if you were glued to the spot. You were sure that any color had disappeared from your face as your thumb subconsciously ran across the slight burning in your chest.

A moment later, you jumped up in anger. The chair slammed against the desk with a loud thud and out of the corner of your eye you saw some of the little collection figures you had placed on it fall over.

You ran to the mirror at the back of the door to your room and came to a halt in front of it, breathing loudly. It had only been a few steps, your room was not that big, and yet you were out of breath as if you had run a marathon.

That could not, no, that would not be true. You weren’t even sure if it wasn’t a heart attack you had had after all. You would lift up your shirt and see nothing but your skin underneath. Everything would be the same. With clammy fingers you grabbed the hem of your shirt and slowly pulled it up. You could see more and more of your skin in the mirror and you swallowed hard as you worked your way up inch by inch.

With a choked scream you let the material of the fabric fall down. Had you just seen something black? Or was it a shadow of the low, setting sun? You didn’t want to try again, but you knew that sooner or later you would have to look.

You took one more deep breath before closing your eyes, grabbing the hem and pulling the shirt over your head with a jerk. You held on to the thin fabric for a moment before it fell to the ground and landed by your feet. You heard your heartbeat rushing in your ears and were torn between opening your eyes or squeezing them even tighter.

Okay, it was gonna be okay. You probably didn’t even know the name, if there really was one. If those were the only conversations you had with strangers today, the chances were one in three that it would be him. That wasn’t too bad, was it?

You pulled yourself together and opened your eyes. Right away, you wish you hadn’t. You wished you could close your eyes forever to this name that would be engraved on your skin for the rest of your life. You stroked over it, at first lightly, then more firmly, until the skin around the black fine lines turned red, so vigorously you tried to wipe the name away.

The name you heard people whispering in the corridors. The name that belonged to the man who immediately attracted attention as soon as he entered a room. Any other name would be better than the one you were staring at in the mirror before you. And even though it was mirrored, it didn’t take you a millisecond to read it.

Min Yoongi.

Note: Hello! I really hope you enjoyed the first chapter of this little story! Any kind of feedback is appreciated a lot and helps me to stay motivated and get chapters out more quickly. So I’m happy about any kind of feedback if you enjoyed the chapter (or not and you want to give me tips on my writing, which is appreciated as well)!

I hope you’re all staying safe and see you soon! 💜

#yoongi x reader #bts soulmate au #fuckboy!yoongi #bts smut #bts angst #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts college au

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fuckspn · 4 years

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fuckspn’s mini deancas fic rec

i said a few days ago that i would write a mini fic rec list, and here it is! i tried to limit it to fics i hadn’t seen on other rec lists before, but there are a few that i couldn’t resist adding even though everyone and their mother recommends them. there’s a whole section for “dean pulls cas out of the empty” fix-it fics because i know what the fuck i’m about. also literally all of these are deancas because i don’t read any other type of supernatural fic, and they all have happy endings because i’m not reading supernatural fanfiction to make myself sad.

a quick disclaimer before we start: i generally don’t like explicit sex scenes in fic unless i feel like they’re really narratively earned, realistic, in-character, and necessary to the emotional arc of the story. so while there are explicit fics in here, all but the last two on the list are sufficiently character- and plot-driven that you can skip the sex scenes entirely if you want.

Finale Fix-Its:

(they’ll never break) the shape we take by ~ME~ (Teen, 9k) Yes, this is my own fic, but listen, I wouldn’t have written it if it didn’t hit what I wanted to see in a fix-it! I’m not gonna make any promises as to whether or not you’ll like it, but I do, and that’s what matters here. Read it if you want to see basically every wrong prediction about the finale rolled up into one fic, if you wish they’d kept the Empty as a morally neutral outsider instead of a villain, or if you just like somewhat uncanny, slippery dream logic and gratuitous callbacks. Also even though idk if I’ll ever finish or publish it, I’m working on a fluffy domestic follow-up featuring, among other things, fixes for both Jack and Billie’s endings. I’m just saying that so if you read this fic you know that even though it’s not mentioned, Jack does come back and get to be a normal toddler with his two dads.

my heart a compass by lagaudiere (Teen, 10k) Again, I REALLY hope you like uncanny, slippery dream logic because that’s in this fic too! Cas POV is such a rare and difficult thing and I think lagaudiere nails it. Literally my only complaint about this fic is that at one point Cas imagines Jack having missing baby teeth at age 4 and my immediate reaction was to worry about why Jack would be missing teeth that young. This is because my brain is broken. Your brain is presumably not broken in the same way mine is, so you should enjoy this fic fine.

The World At Large by cenotaphy (General, 4.9k) This fic is so sexy because cenotaphy was like “hey what if there were actual stakes for Dean in the Empty besides the threat of losing the love of his life? Like what if he had a time limit? What if he got fucking stabbed?” and then somehow turned it into the softest little thing about how much all the characters love each other. Truly incredible artistic decisions made here. Despite being relatively short and deancas-centric, Sam and Jack get a lot of screentime here too and they’re absolutely delightful. Tbh you should probably read all of cenotaphy’s season 15 fix-its but if you’re only gonna read one, make it this. (Or Bring Home, but I’ve seen that one on so many rec lists that I think statistically everyone on Earth has read it.)

Other:

You And Your Husband by mikaylamazing (General, 17.9k) 5+1, Dean and Cas getting mistaken for a couple, 80% fluff then 10% angst that genuinely hit me like a gut punch then 10% fluff again. Dean and Cas are at PEAK old married couple in this fic. Yeah they bitch at each other constantly, but they also will tool around the country in their car like a couple of retirees and Dean will indulge Cas’ random flights of fancy even when they’re for something he hates, like the original Starbucks at Pike Place Market. (I’m with Dean on this one.)

Command Me To Be Well by prosopopeya (Explicit, 28k) Not gonna lie, this one hits the “angst with a happy ending” trope hard. The author is NOT fucking around with the warning for internalized homophobia, and I damn near cried at how Dean and Cas clearly loved each other and wanted to be together but just couldn’t because Dean’s psychological hangups were hurting them both. But not only does the happy ending come, the fic luxuriates in it—this is no band-aid slapped over the end, they genuinely fix their shit. Also, this fic has my favorite “Dean coming out to Sam” scene I’ve ever read.

Bring Up the Deep by deathbanjo (Explicit, 22.6k) Okay. Listen. Yes, this is the fic I was talking about the other day, with the tags that make it sound way kinkier than it actually is. And yes, technically this fic does contain dom/sub undertones and sex pollen. But look at me—hey, look at me. This fic owns. It’s a horror case fic, so it’s mainly plot (and three brief sex scenes, but two of those are part of the plot). The monster is genuinely creepy and creative, the supporting characters are enjoyable to read about, the setting is well-drawn, and the ending is something I’m still digesting but in a very enjoyable way. As far as the kinky tags go, the fic basically plays out like Dean and Cas (who are in an established, albeit new, relationship) are slightly randier than normal due to case weirdness: the dom/sub undertones are so light that I barely noticed them, the “sex pollen” is a deliberately unnerving plot device, and both Dean and Cas have nuanced emotional reactions to the whole situation that they are allowed to process and talk through with each other. I’ve never read A Complete Kingdom and never will, but if you’ve ever wanted a Deancas horror casefic set in coastal Maine that won’t leave you a shattered husk of a human being, Bring Up the Deep is for you!

Though The Course May Change by imogenbynight (Explicit, 51.5k) I’ve seen this one on a number of rec lists, but I couldn’t not include it because it’s just so fun. Another case fic involving Dean and Cas staying in a cabin in a rainy, semi-isolated location surrounded by colorful OCs, but this time the only horror is the prospect of fake-dating the guy you’re secretly actually in love with. It’s a delightful read.

More Than Ever by Sass_Master (Explicit, 20.2k) Canon-divergent fic from 2015 about Cas choosing to become human and Dean being a real bitch about it. It’s very fun, but I’m mainly recommending it because it’s part 1 of a series and therefore provides the necessary backstory/buildup for the next fic on this list.

You’re There by Sass_Master (Explicit, 11.5k) This is part 3 of the same series (part 2 is not required reading, it’s just a short explicit fic set in between these two fics), and while most of it is about sex, it’s also a fucking A+, 10/10, award-worthy character study of Dean and his internal relationship to his sexuality. Literally I was reading it going, “That’s it! That’s the Dean Winchester who lives in my head!”

till the juice runs by deathbanjo (Explicit, 8.4k) The epic saga of Dean’s terrible knockoff-Grindr hookups while Cas waits at home for him like if you could see that I’m the one who understands you been here all along so why can’t you see you belong w— Listen, I’ll be honest here, this fic is completely not my usual speed (lots of sex, relatively light—but not nonexistent!—romance, zero Big Emotions), so it doesn’t have much in common with any other fics on this list besides a rotating cast of fun OCs. It is, however, the single funniest fucking deancas fic I’ve ever read in my life. Fun minigame: count how many times one of Dean’s hookups is described as having messy dark hair and/or blue eyes.

#fic rec #idk how 'mini' this is at this point it's 10 fics #but that's only a tiny fraction of the amount of deancas fic i've read in the last 100 days so

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kerikaaria · 4 years

Text

Smile

(Hoseok x gn!Reader) Oneshot, Coffee shop!au

Genre: (PG13) Hurt/comfort, fluff, angst

WC: 4.6k

Warnings: None, unless you count a stereotypical Kdrama trope or two offensive haha

Summary: At 28 years old, you suddenly felt like your life was resetting. One of the few things that brought you comfort was keeping the routine of stopping by the local coffee shop, and the barista behind the counter had definitely noticed the recent change in you. All he wanted was to see you smile again.

Breath of Sunshine is a sequel to this fic.

A/N – This fic is my submission for the January prompt with @thebtswritersclub for Beginnings/New Beginnings.

I'm a horrendous human being and absolutely forgot to tag @moccahobi for beta reading this fic for me! Thank you for your suggestions Lillia! And please excuse me being big dumb lol. I love yoouuu!

Pushing the door open, the familiar jingle of the bell sounded and warmth started to envelope your chilled body.

"Good afternoon, Y/n," the barista said as he made another customer's drink, pausing for a moment to throw a smile in your direction.

"Good afternoon, Hoseok," you replied, attempting to smile in return but could feel how stiff and forced it was.

He quickly finished the drink he had been working on, properly saying goodbye to the customer as he always did. He grabbed a new cup as he asked, “Are you having the usual?”

“Yes, please,” you said.

Hoseok gave you another smile before getting your drink started while you approached the register. You got your payment out, ready to go as he approached the counter. After swiping your card, you watched as he resumed making your drink. Hoseok had been working here for at least as long as you had been a regular customer and it was obvious he knew what he was doing.

"The weather isn't that bad today," Hoseok made small talk while he finished putting your drink together.

"Yeah, it's not quite as cold as the rest of the week had been,” you responded. If this were a month ago, you would have continued back and forth, encouraging conversation between the two of you. You could only just muster up enough energy to respond right now, much less continue a conversation.

Especially not today.

Preferring to stare at the counter rather than make eye contact, you didn’t notice the worried glance Hoseok threw your way. He had definitely recognized the change in your demeanor over the past weeks. He really missed your smile—the real one and not the forced one that sat on your face nowadays.

When he finished your drink and handed it to you, you attempted a smile once more as you thanked him before sitting at one of the tables in the café to relax.

It was a Saturday and you had a standard Monday to Friday job so you didn’t have anything to do today. But this was one of your favorite places to go, and after all the changes that happened the past month you needed a familiar routine to help keep you feeling sane.

One of the few comforts that came with moving back to your childhood home was that this coffee shop was within walking distance again. When you had moved away over a year ago, you would have to leave for work sooner to catch an earlier bus, getting off only to stop here before getting back on to finish going to work. You adored this quaint little shop and the bright faces behind the counter and didn’t want to sacrifice your patronage just because you had moved.

So needless to say, your weekend visits had stopped at that point since there was no need to catch the bus then. But now that you were back here, you had resumed your Saturday morning walks which led you here. Even though it was winter, you found the crisp air refreshing and found it easy to let your troubles escape your mind during the 20 minute venture.

You sat by a window, mindlessly watching the cars drive down the street. You had made a fair amount of progress this month, but today was particularly difficult. It was January 23, what would have been your 6 year anniversary. That wasn’t a thing anymore, of course.

At 28 years old, you suddenly felt like your life was resetting. Things that you wanted in life that had seemed so close to coming into fruition merely a month ago suddenly felt so far away, you weren’t sure they were possible anymore.

As you let your mind wander, you were unsure how much time had passed. Your drink sat empty in front of you for a while, but you didn’t feel ready to leave just yet. When you got back home you’d be reminded of how different things were now, and that wasn’t something you were looking forward to today.

Suddenly, your attention was drawn to a new cup being placed on your table. You turned to see Hoseok standing next to the table, smiling brightly as ever.

“It’s a good day for a drink like this, don’t you think?” he asked.

“I didn’t order this,” was the only thing that could escape your mouth. He was definitely known for throwing in a free drink here and there, but you most certainly didn’t want to take advantage of it.

“It’s my treat,” he insisted, “I’m actually done with my shift. Do you mind if I sit here with you?”

You glanced back at the bar, and sure enough Namjoon was now manning the station while the owner, Seokjin, took orders from the customers in line.

Looking back to Hoseok who had been waiting patiently for your response, you decide to give a nod.

He sat across from you, taking a sip from his own drink that he had no doubt made himself. A silence hung between you but it wasn't uncomfortable. Hoseok never made you feel uncomfortable. When you reached for the new cup and realized what drink he had made you, it only reminded you of how kind he was.

It wasn't your usual, but was something you had most definitely ordered here before. You could still remember the first day you had ordered this particular drink.

Hoseok looked at you, amused. "Not getting the usual today, then?"

"No, not today," you confirmed. "I really need this today."

"Oh?" he asked as he rang it into the register. "Is it some kind of special occasion thing? I know some people do that."

"Not exactly," you said, handing him your card. "It's more of a comfort drink."

Hoseok hesitated to swipe your card through the reader. "Oh. Not having a great day?" A frown sat on his face.

"You could say that," you sighed.

He looked to be in thought for a moment before he handed your card back to you and moved away to start on your drink.

Your brows furrowed. "You didn't swipe my card, did you?"

"It's on me today."

"You don't have to do that," you said, staying parked at the register.

Hoseok hadn't said anything else while he whipped up the drink. When he brought it over to you, you tried making him take your card one more time, but he just shook his head.

"I don't like seeing my customers upset," he said. "It's not much, but I want to do anything I can to try to make your day at least a little brighter. Please, I insist."

The smile on his face and earnest look in his eyes made you pause, before ultimately accepting his kind offer.

His smile grew even bigger when he watched you put your card away and take the drink he offered you. It was a size larger than what you had ordered.

"Thank you, Hoseok," you said. You were still unsure about taking a drink for free, but definitely were in no way going to leave without showing him some gratitude.

Holding the cup of hot chocolate between your hands made you feel warm in more ways than one. He was telling you that he noticed you weren't as happy as usual and he even remembered the significance of the drink to you.

Knowing that someone cared, even a little, was something you really needed these days and, though a little silly, it almost made you want to cry. You held it back though, offering a smile to the man sitting across from you. It was small, but still genuine.

You waited for the inevitable question of what was wrong. The sweet gesture of the hot chocolate made you feel like you may not actually mind if he asked, despite having been tired of explaining what happened 50 times over already. Just as long as he wouldn't start asking you the loaded, 'How are you?' which translated to 'How are you after him?'

He didn't ask. Instead he said, "You know, I was really relieved when I saw it was you who came in earlier."

You looked at him curiously. "Why is that?"

"That customer that was here when you walked in? He's a real charmer." He was clearly being sarcastic. "The guy wants like 10 very specific customizations to his latte, and was backseat driving the whole time I made his drink. Despite the fact that he's a regular and I know his order to the T by this point. But nope, he can never let me just handle making the drink in peace. It's so annoying."

"Oh gosh, that does sound super annoying," you replied. A pretty generic reply sure, but you already felt more engaged in this conversation than you had in most others recently.

"But then customers like you come in and you're always so kind and friendly," Hoseok continued. "Even if the day hadn't been that great, it always feels a little better when you come in. You're definitely one of our favorite regulars. It's also nice now that I've noticed you're coming in on the weekends again."

"Oh yeah, I moved back into my last house," you explained. "So I can just walk here again."

"And out of all the things you could be doing on the weekend, you choose to hang out here in this tiny little place."

You took the first sip of your hot chocolate while Hoseok spoke. It may have been basically just hot milk and chocolate, but it was really delicious. You closed your eyes for a moment to savor the flavor before answering him. “I really like it here. It’s nice and cozy, the drinks are amazing and not super expensive, and you guys are all really nice.”

“It’s hard not to be when we have wonderful customers like you,” Hoseok said.

The compliment made you feel flustered and on top of feeling relaxed and warm from the drink, you found a genuine smile that reached your eyes spread across your face.

You felt that out of all the good qualities of this coffee shop, Hoseok was definitely the most comforting thing here.

After that day, you began to have longer conversations with the barista. It wasn’t that you didn’t chat before, but him taking the time to sit and talk with you seemed to have opened up a door to a deeper friendship between you. While coming to the coffee shop had always been one of your favorite parts of the day, it started to become something you looked forward to even more than before.

You even found yourself leaving your house a bit earlier than before just to make sure you had some time to sit and chat with him for an extra little bit before needing to make your way to work. Your encounters were limited to the shop, not having met outside of the café or exchanged phone numbers yet. Despite that, you felt like your interactions were some of the most genuine you had lately.

As for Hoseok, he could see the gradual change in you. While he had no idea what had suddenly made you so upset back in December, he knew it had to be pretty substantial with how long you’ve been affected. He never wanted to ask though. He figured if you wanted to talk to him about it you would, and he would of course listen.

That being said, ever since he decided to sit down and chat with you, he felt like you’ve slowly started becoming more like yourself—more like the Y/n he remembered. He couldn’t say for sure, but he dared to hope that maybe it had something to do with him.

So the weeks went by, most days highlighted by Hoseok’s smiling face as you started going to the cafe more. On Saturdays it basically became a routine for you to arrive shortly before he’d be done with his shift, and then he’d once again sit and chat with you when it was over.

Saturdays quickly became your favorite day of the week.

You were trying to figure out how to nonchalantly ask Hoseok if you could exchange phone numbers, or meet up outside of the café, or something. And really, it shouldn’t have been hard. Easy to slip in a ��Hey, can I text you?' or ‘Let’s hang out sometime,’ during a chat and it would have been natural. But you felt oddly nervous about asking.

What if he didn’t want that? What if he just wanted your little budding friendship to stay as a thing just at the café? What if you were reading too far into it and he was just a nice barista chatting with his customer to make them happy? Knowing you, you very well could have been reading into it too much. Even though you really, really hoped you weren’t.

You walked down the sidewalk heading home from the bus stop after work when your phone rang.

You didn’t bat an eye when it was his name that came up on the caller ID. It wasn’t frequent but also not entirely unusual for him to contact you. His calls often had something to do with tying up loose ends, or he was just wanting to chat. Afterall, you both had agreed to remain friends after the breakup. But it was still a bit awkward, both of you needing a bit more time to come to terms with all the changes that were occurring in the aftermath and, at least for you, figuring out how to move on still.

You picked up easily, swiping the green button across the screen and putting it back in your pocket, earbuds in your ears to listen and talk through. The call was absolutely standard, him needing someone to talk to in his boredom. Usually it wouldn’t bother you, but he was having one of his moments where he didn’t realize he talked about something he really probably shouldn’t have.

He started mentioning how he’d finally gotten used to you not being around. That it was normal now.

You knew why he was telling you. The changes were hard on him as well, to the point where he couldn’t sleep in the house after you moved out and he realized just how lonely it felt with no one there. So he was telling you because he wanted you to know that he was doing better.

But at the same time, when you were still in the process of getting used to not having him around, it hurt to hear. You had been having far more good—or at least better—days than bad ones lately, but you could feel your heart rip a bit as he talked. You tried not to let him hear it in your voice when the tears started. As soon as you could, you ended the conversation, making up some excuse that you couldn’t really recall but it seemed to work well enough for him and he ended the call.

You couldn’t stop the tears from continuously falling, and you felt so stupid for crying in public like that. The street was a more residential one and not very busy so there were few people around, but you felt as though anyone nearby would instantly have their eyes on you and be judging you.

You stopped at a corner to cross the street, looking both ways before starting on your way. Your gaze was glued to the ground, trying to keep your head down as much as you could to try to keep others from seeing how stupid you must have looked.

It all happened so quickly that you had no time to register what was going on. You saw a car approaching out of the corner of your eye, looking up to see it very close and going dangerously fast. And then you felt a tug, someone grabbing your arm and quickly pulling you the rest of the way to the sidewalk, making you stumble in your step.

You felt the wind from the car passing so closely behind you just a second later. The reality of how close you had been to getting flattened suddenly hit you. Still in the grip of this person who had pulled you out of harm’s way, you started shaking from the shock of it.

“Y/n, are you okay?” a very familiar voice asked, just loud enough for you to hear him past the music in your earbuds.

You quickly looked up to see Hoseok standing there, eyes wide as looked over you, seemingly looking for any injuries. When you didn’t respond, he called your name again.

You shakily nodded. “Y-yeah, I’m- I’m okay,” you managed to get out, pulling the devices from your ears to hear better.

“That jackass,” Hoseok mumbled. “He just came speeding out of nowhere. What the heck did he think he was doing?”

Feeling like it was difficult to keep steady, you let yourself lean into Hoseok for support. He instantly responded by wrapping a strong arm around your shoulders and tucking your head into his chest with his other hand.

“It’s okay, Y/n. You’re okay. You didn’t get hurt, you’re okay,” he calmly said, rocking you just slightly in an attempt to help you calm down.

The two of you stayed like that for a few minutes, until you felt your composure return and straightened up a bit, pulling away from Hoseok’s comfort.

“You feeling alright?” he asked, eyes still filled with concern.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you said. “Thank you for saving me, Hoseok.”

“It’s lucky that I even noticed you across the street earlier,” he said. “I don’t want you to think you did something wrong because you really didn’t, but you should really try to pay more attention when you’re crossing the street.”

“Yeah, I really wasn’t paying attention,” you admitted. “I just- I mean I looked both ways first but I’m just not feeling the best and-”

“It’s okay,” Hoseok said. “You don’t need to explain to me. I can see something is upsetting you. I’m just glad that I was here.”

You nodded, a short silence sitting between you.

“Where are you headed?” Hoseok was the next to speak.

“I’m just going home,” you said.

“Let me walk you?” he asked.

“You don’t have somewhere to be?”

“I was just heading home too. I stayed late at the café because Joon was on a date. So no, I have nowhere to be. Can I walk you home? You still seem a bit shocked.”

You contemplated his offer, still feeling a bit shaken up from what just happened. Plus, after the phone call you just had, you could really use some company. “Okay, yeah I’d appreciate that. Thank you.”

He stepped to the side, waiting for you to start walking in the right direction before falling in step next to you.

“I was just on the phone with my ex,” you blurted out.

Hoseok’s gaze snapped to you, but you continued looking forward. He remained silent, knowing you had more to say.

“You know the boyfriend I’d mention before?” you asked, sure that he’d remember since you talked about him quite a bit. He was such a huge part of your life. “He broke up with me back in December. On the 21st.”

Hoseok was silent for a moment before he softly asked, “You guys were together for quite a while weren’t you?”

You nodded. “January 23rd would have been 6 years.”

“That’s why you moved back here?” he asked. “You two moved in together about a year ago right?”

“Yeah, a year and three months at the time that we broke up. I’m just lucky that I still had this place to come back to,” you said.

“Did he say something to hurt you?” Hoseok asked. “On the phone just now, I mean.”

You shook your head. “Not intentionally. He just doesn’t always realize when something is inappropriate or hurtful to say.” You chuckle. “He was always kind of bad at knowing social queues. He didn’t realize that telling me how it’s gotten easy for him without me around would be hurtful for me to hear.”

Hoseok didn’t know what to say, so he waited to see if you had anything else you wanted to tell him.

“It’s really hard. I had really thought he was it, you know?” you said, a sad smile sitting on your face. “But now that we’re not together, even though it’s been hard and I’m still figuring out how to be my own person by myself again, I’m realizing that maybe this really was for the better. He told me he just felt like I was his really good friend more than anything else now, and he clearly hadn’t wanted to work on things between us so there was no way we could last at that point. I am not feeling hopeful about being able to find someone else quite yet, but if I ever do I hope that they’re someone who can understand me better.

“I was by no means unhappy with him, except the issues we started to have last year that I felt like we could work through at the time. But we had different love languages. I wanted things from him that I more or less had to flat out tell him and he’d try but even then he wasn’t always putting his heart into it because it wasn’t really natural for him. I understood it, it wasn’t a huge thing. Just things like that, that were never a huge deal at all, but I realize that I really hope I can find in someone else, you know?”

Hoseok nodded along, understanding what you meant. He had been with more than one partner who was uncomfortable with how he expressed his feelings as well. While they had been much less understanding and accepting than you seemed to have been with your ex, or that he even had done for you.

“It’s just… It’s so many changes all at once,” you said. “I usually question everything. I expect people to not stick around, and wonder if people really want to be around me. But with him, I never really thought that. When I’d think of our potential future, I always thought ‘when,’ not ‘if.’ But now it’s become ‘never.’ At least with him. And it’s still hard to wrap my head around. But I have been doing a lot better. I remember you saying once before that you don’t like your customers to be unhappy and if you can make them feel at least a little better, you want to try. And honestly, you have been a huge help to me lately.”

Hoseok smiled to himself. “I’m happy to help you, Y/n. I know that I can’t help a whole lot, I understand this is all really hard for you, but I do want to be there for you however I can. I promise that the interactions we have, it’s not just me being a barista who is trying to make his customers happy. I did say that yeah, but it genuinely comes from my heart. When you stopped smiling at the end of the year, I immediately noticed. Ever since then, I remember just thinking a lot that I missed seeing your smile and wanted to try to make you smile again.”

“Well, mission accomplished then,” you chuckled. You were silent for a moment while you turned onto your street. “You know, that first day that you sat with me in the café? That was January 23rd. I was feeling worse that day than the others but you really did help me feel better. I completely forgot about what that day had meant while talking to you. And I know what the hot chocolate meant. I can’t tell you how much I appreciated that. Thank you.”

“You make it sound like I’m not going to keep trying to help,” Hoseok said. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, you know.”

“I wouldn’t want to.” You turned to him, a genuine smile on your face.

He smiled in return. “That’s the Y/n that I’ve wanted to see.”

When you were in front of your house, you stopped, letting Hoseok know you arrived.

“Oh, you live here?” he asked, a little surprised. “Really? This is literally just right down the street from my house.”

“Seriously?” you asked. “Since when?”

“For years. I’ve lived there since before I got the job at the café.”

“How come I never realized you lived that close?”

Hoseok laughed. “I have no idea. But hey, at least we know now, right?”

“Right,” you said. “Well, I don’t want to keep you, even if you do live close by.”

“Can I have your number before I go?” Hoseok asked. When you looked at him with widened eyes, he said, “Only if you want to! I just, I feel like the two of us have gotten pretty close and I’ve been meaning to ask but I just wasn’t sure how to bring it up. I want to be there anytime you need me. If you ever need someone to talk to, I want you to be able to contact me anytime.”

Hoseok’s words warmed you, leaving you speechless for just a moment before you smiled once more. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you the same thing. Yeah, I’d like to give you my phone number.”

Hoseok quickly fumbled to fish his phone from his pocket, unlocking it and handing it to you to enter your number.

“And maybe if you have some time, we could hang out one day?” you asked. “Like, outside of the café. As much as I like it there, I think it’d be nice to be able to chat without you having to worry about attending to customers. Or your nosy coworkers listening into our conversations.”

Hoseok laughed, taking a moment to calm down while you handed his phone back to him. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d really like that.”

You both stood there for a moment, unsure of how to say goodbye. Just as you were turning around to enter your door, Hoseok spoke up once more. “Y/n?”

When you turned back around, you were greeted with a really warm smile.

“I know that it’s hard right now and it’s something that you have to work through on your own,” Hoseok continued. “But try not to think of it as an end. It’s a beginning, a new start. And maybe, it won’t be as hard as you think to find someone who will give you what you’re looking for. I, for one, know someone who would be more than willing to do that for you if you ever let him.”

You felt your heart speed up and cheeks redden at the insinuation.

“But don’t feel pressured,” he continued. “Take your time. Do what you need to heal and when you’re ready, I guarantee he’ll still be here for you. He’s ready to start a new story with you whenever you are, if you want.”

With one last smile, Hoseok waved goodbye and walked up the street. It took you a moment before you gathered yourself and unlocked your door.

He hadn’t said it directly, but you understood what he meant. You couldn’t say that you were ready for anything with someone new right now, but if how you felt around him lately was any indication, you were sure that as long as what he said was true, that he was willing to wait until you were ready, you most certainly would eventually be ready to have that new start with him.

And maybe, just maybe, you put a heart next to his name in your contact list. No one needed to know that though.

Breath of Sunshine is a sequel to this fic.

A/N – This fic is HIGHLY self-indulgent. Last month, on December 21st, my long-time boyfriend had broken up with me. A lot of what Y/n feels in this fic, and what they described about their past relationship are very similar to my own experiences. I’m also uploading this on January 23, 2021, which is rather poetic because, just as in the fic, today would have been my 6th year anniversary with my ex. So yes, this is super self-indulgent and somewhat of a coping mechanism for myself. But I hope that it can be enjoyed by others as well <3.

Also, please don’t feel worried for me or anything. I really do appreciate anyone who offers me support, but I promise that I am doing alright and holding up well. Although I do very much wish it were possible for me to find my own Hobi lol (not right away of course).

Also, if you’d like to donate to my Ko-fi, feel free! Absolutely no pressure though :)

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #jhope x reader #hoseok x reader #jung hoseok x reader #thebtswritersclub #btsbookclub #btswriterscollective #hurt/comfort #fluff #angst #oneshot

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ghosthan · 4 years

Note

what would you say are the differences between 616 Tony and MCU Tony? 🤔

Hi anon! Many people have talked about this and I'm certainly not the authority on the topic, but I’ll try my best to explain some of the major differences that I have noticed! Thank you for asking and I’m sorry it took me so long to answer you.

Important to note: neither version of Tony has had a totally consistent characterization. Depending on who you ask and which comics/movies they've consumed, they might give you a different answer here and not be wrong.

616 Tony is even harder to put into one box because his character has been around since Tales of Suspense in the 1950s. That’s a long time. Things have changed over time, under different writers, changing political atmospheres, and outside pop culture influence (including influence from the MCU, unfortunately, in recent years.) You get the picture. So I’ll be making some generalizations and try to be clear about which eras I’m speaking when I make these comparisons, but ultimately, if someone wanted to be contrarian, you could probably refute a lot of what I say here if you cherry pick canon. Which is fair enough! That’s sort of the fun of comics, there’s so much to choose from and something for everyone.

So here are some observations from me, under the ‘read more’.

1. Physical Appearance

This is sort of an easy one, but worth mentioning!

MCU Tony does not look like 616 Tony. RDJ is great, but he would not be most 616 fans’ casting choice on looks alone. MCU Tony is tan, a Malibu man, with brown hair and brown eyes, and RDJ has sort of round facial features (a funny sloped nose, big, round eyes, round forehead, not a particularly sharp or classically “superhero masculine” face.) As you may know, this lends well to certain fanworks and tropes, such as Tony having Bambi eyes.

Or Tiny Tony. He is not actually canonically small, but he's smaller in the MCU than in 616 and from what I can tell, a portion of fandom has latched onto that. He’s a grown man, but RDJ is pretty short, and of slighter build than 616 Tony. RDJ is 5′9, but they make him act in heels, and I believe his canon MCU height is 5′11. Another popular trope I’ve seen is shrinking Tony in fanfic/fanart for a dramatized height difference with Steve, making him weak or fragile; this is fine because everyone has their own taste, but for the official record, he’s a capable, strong guy! Especially in earlier stages of the MCU, in which he’s a bit younger. Tony isn’t just a brain; he carries out his plans with his own two hands! He builds his armor, he remodels his lab, he survives hand to hand combat when he doesn’t have the armor. Muscles!

616 Tony is 6′1 without armor and 6′6 in armor (making him taller than his 616 Steve counterpart in armor and very close to the same height out of armor!) 616 Tony is generally paler with black hair (sometimes the classic blue-black I love so much) and blue eyes, and it obviously depends on the artist, but he has a pretty typically ‘masculine’ face and build. Generally he is drawn with a squared jaw and a high bridged nose (such as in the Extremis storyline, or drawn by Marquez), but again, this varies from artist to artist! Here's some examples of 616 Tonys.

Wait, you might be saying, but I have seen comic panels where Tony has brown hair/brown eyes!

Yep. Due to a combination of forgetfulness, inconsistency, and the MCU bleeding into the general consciousness of the comics, sometimes Tony is randomly depicted in the image of RDJ, or if not in his image, at least visually inspired by the MCU-- hair color and style, eye color, dialogue, etc.

616 fans don’t typically love this; he’s very handsome when drawn this way, of course, (look at him!) But it isn’t really the same character.

Also, MCU Tony has (at least for some of his movies) a reactor built into his chest. While 616 Tony has, at times, been more or less physically connected/dependent to his tech, he doesn’t have the built in reactor (most generally speaking, there are times in comics when he temporarily has the tech built in, but this isn’t really the status quo.)

2. Relationship with parents/ family history

While it is definitely implied in the MCU that Howard was not a good father to Tony, (such as in Iron Man 2 when Tony says “You're talking about a man whose happiest day of his life was shipping me off to boarding school” and “He was cold, calculating, never told me he loved me, never even told me he liked me”), Tony has a different sort of attitude toward Howard in MCU than in 616. It’s kind of weird, and hard to discuss. To me, it seems implied that MCU Howard was emotionally abusive to Tony based on what Tony does say about his childhood, and yet, the films kind of randomly give Howard weird moments of “Well, he tried his best and deep down he loved me the whole time!” forgiveness. MCU has a Howard kink and I'm very cringe-face emoji about it.

For example, Iron Man 2 shows that old film reel of Howard talking about how Tony is the greatest thing he ever created, and in Endgame, when Tony goes back in time, he meets Howard and has a very weird interaction with him in which Howard declares he would do anything for his son, (to his deeply damaged son who is a new father himself.) Yet, for all his talk, it's his actions that speak, and his actions left Tony damaged, traumatized, and emotionally inept at forming healthy relationships. So.

Sorry. I’m a little bitter. I'm just uncomfortable with how they sort of set up an abuse history but then treated it kind of lightly and Howard gets off the hook as "well, he tried his best" without really acknowledging the hurt he caused.

Avengers: Endgame 2019

I won't go super in depth into the abuse stuff because it's a little touchy and could take up a lot of this post. But.

I’m not against any reconciliation and I do appreciate the fact that a lot of times, victims of abuse feel a desire to forgive and reconnect with their abuser-- my issue with the MCU depiction of Tony and Howard is that Tony never really gets the vindication of his abuse being recognized for what it was before he forgives Howard. To me, that’s not forgiveness as kind of... gaslighting himself that it wasn't as bad as he remembered his own experience being, because of a sense of nostalgia and grief. It’s not the same, and I have issues with it.

However, a lot of my opinion is based on subtext and it is just my opinion; with depictions of abuse, different people are going to react differently, and other people may have found these scenes touching and gotten something positive out of them, and that's totally fine too!

It’s also a bit difficult to talk about Tony’s relationship with Howard in 616, for a few reasons: shifting timelines, lots of canon that I have not read all of, and the fact that it really is difficult to sum up such a complicated relationship.

Right off the bat, I’ll address the basics. I used the same scene in another ask, and I think it's frequently cited in any meta regarding Howard, but in Iron Man Vol. 1, we see more into Tony’s childhood and see Howard verbally abusing his family, drunk, at the dinner table.

Iron Man Vol. 1 #285

We get this scene with adult Tony’s retrospective commentary on how his own issues that he blamed himself for were actually a cycle starting with his father, the insecurity and abuse and alcohol, and that he realizes how much this has influenced him. Both MCU Tony and 616 Tony have some form of “stop the cycle of shame” arcs, but I don’t really see how this works narratively in the MCU because Tony makes excuses for Howard and continues to blame himself for a lot of his own personal struggles, whereas I think there’s just a bit more nuance in 616.

But uh. This isn’t totally true, and in recent years, things got real weird. I choose to ignore this chapter of canon, but in the Dan Slott run, Tony Stark: Iron Man, Tony’s whole backstory gets imploded. For one thing, the little of Tony’s childhood it shows in a flashback is uh. Uh. Well, it’s certainly out of character compared with previous 616 material, depicting Tony as an overly confident poor sport.

Basically, Tony is adopted. Tony has an evil brother. Tony’s biological parents make an appearance, as do his ‘classic’ parents, Howard and Maria. It’s just weird. It’s kind of out there. I’m honestly not a huge fan of this and ignore a lot of it, but it is certainly a difference between MCU and 616.

3. Personality

I’m going to be very general. Both Tony’s have an outer self which they present to the public and an inner self, but they’re a bit different. Both Tony’s have struggled with self loathing, but I think MCU Tony’s actual self worth is a bit higher, even just at some points in time. Even if his ego is part of his facade, I think he does believe some amount of the “I’m awesome”, even if just when it applies to his own work/inventions/saving people. Not to say that these moments of fluctuating self esteem make him egotistical, but this combined with his egotistical act and snarky, non-stop sassy dialogue, he’s quite different in general personality from 616 Tony, who is much more reserved.

Some more recent iterations of 616 Tony have been adapted to reflect the snark of the MCU, but he’s not so snarky and he tends to approach things more seriously. This is not a dis on MCU Tony; I think MCU Tony uses false ego and excessive sassy jokes as a means to deflect and control, which I think is very interesting and it’s nice to see this explored more in depth in fic where you get to see the thought process behind the bravado. MCU Tony is a partier, a good times guy, especially during Iron Man 2, in which he really does disregard consequences to have fun (driving his race car, partying drunk in his suit, letting pretty girls play with the armor, shooting off repulsor blasts for fun in a crowded room); I’m not bashing MCU Tony-- I think he had psychologically understandable reasons for behaving this way, the man was dying-- but 616 Tony really doesn’t act this way generally, and I think it’s a personality difference more than a difference of one being “better.”

616 Tony handles his stress differently, and they just have different psychological patterns, I think. I’m coming up kind of blank trying to think of a good comparable 616 arc, (sorry, I’m brain dead) but a less-than-perfect example might be Tony’s brain delete arc; he’s “dying”, like in Iron Man 2 he knows his expiration date, (circumstances are quite a bit different), but he throws himself more into work, into a cause, and as he really fall apart, we see him spiral into self doubt, remorse, fear, and insecurity, sort of falling into himself with lots of manly tears and calling himself pathetic.

(Some things happen in this arc that a lot of people find Gross. I also find these events gross. But. I don’t count the sex in “World’s Most Wanted” as partying to cope with personal mortality, because I think both character involved are in “end of the world” mode, and it’s more seeking intimacy for comfort than partying to numb the hurt. Does this distinction make sense? No? Perfect, moving on.) 616 Tony is generally much more humble.

Whereas MCU Tony, I think, tries to outrun those feelings via parties or making dozens of new suits, or seeking comfort by comforting others! Gifting things to people, building things for people, highly personalized individual living quarters, teaching Nebula games and trying to show her a fun time when they were in peril together.

They have some traits in common, for sure! But canon being inconsistent both in the MCU and in 616, my observations aren’t the rule, because I’m kind of cherry picking and going based on limited memory. But off the top of my head, they’re both extravagant gift givers! Recall Tony gifting Pepper the giant bunny in Iron Man 3, and compare this with Tony carrying a mile high pile of Christmas gifts after shopping with Rumiko in Iron Man Vol. #3.

I would say that while both Tony Starks are considered humanitarians, this is much more fleshed out and supported by canon in 616. Some examples of his philanthropy in the MCU: Tony makes charitable donations of art and money, Tony has an organization which provides disaster relief/cleanup which is referenced in Spider-Man Homecoming, Tony has an MIT grant for students and staff members. But to be honest, a lot of his MCU philanthropy is only mentioned in passing, or is largely handled by other people on his behalf and on his dollar.

In 616, we see Tony using charity almost as a means of therapy: it’s something he does very privately, not in the public eye (at least, not always), and it’s something deeply personal to him. One example that immediately comes to mind is Tony’s home for disadvantaged girls in Iron Man Vol. 3, and we see scenes of Tony basically driving the streets at night, picking up underage prostitutes, feeding them and listening to their stories before bringing them to a home he’s established where he knows all the residents, and provides educational opportunities and protection.

Another more recent example in canon that the Tony fandom loves is that Tony canonically holds babies at an orphanage. Sorry I don’t have panels for all of this, this section got long and I have been working on answering this ask in a very scattered way for a very long time.

Both Tony’s are romantics, I literally could write a whole other post about their canon love life similarities and differences, but I will briefly say that while MCU Tony does the long on and off, and eventual ultimate commitment, to Pepper Potts, 616 Tony is a serial monogamist; he is always falling in love, and he’s definitely not a playboy, but the hero-ing, self loathing, and lifestyle make it very hard for him to keep anyone in his life, and most of his partners fuck his life up and betray him. Needless to say, 616 Tony is not married, and certainly not to Pepper Potts.

Oh, and I guess this is so obvious I almost forgot to include it, but a huge similarity between both iterations of Tony is that they both constantly use their own life as a bargaining chip, and will pretty much die for anything. Or be the bad guy for a good reason (at least, in his own mind... see Civil War, or Hickmanvengers; 616 Tony, especially, does not shy away from making the hard decisions, and this leads to a lot of guilt and tension in his relationships-- often with Steve because 616 Steve/Tony angst fans are well fed, I guess)

Remember that time Tony had Steve’s mind wiped because Tony felt that Steve’s inflexible morality might hinder the Illuminati’s ability to save the world? And it eats Tony up inside and erupts into a homicidal fight when Steve finally gets his memory back? Me too.

Tony Stark as a character is defined by sacrifice, both of his own life but also of his own happiness and reputation and conscience, I think, in a lot of ways, and we see this in many universes. I could go on about Tony’s propensity for sacrifice in the less obvious ways, because I think in terms of heroic sacrifice, Tony has done a lot that other heroes wouldn’t be able to do because of moral inflexibility and conflicting philosophical schools of thought; Tony really is the “whatever it takes” type, and often believes the ends justify the means if he deems a threat worse than the potential wrong that could be done in preventing the threat. We see this a little bit in the MCU in the creation of Ultron, and in Civil War with the Accords. But there’s a whole lot more going on there I don’t want to get into.

4. Alcohol

MCU Tony’s alcoholism is never really explicitly explored. He is shown drinking in Iron Man 1, and in Iron Man 2 he drinks a lot and makes a fool of himself publicly, but MCU Tony doesn’t get any specific narrative arc focused on his drinking, and if I recall correctly, I don’t think he ever refers to his drinking as alcoholism in the movies? Also, while his binge drinking and embarrassing behaviors ostensibly stop after the events of Iron Man 2, he is shown drinking on screen at least one other time after that which I can remember, and it wasn’t a “falling off the wagon” moment, and an alcoholic in recovery such as 616 Tony would not take a drink casually. This article sheds a little light on some decisions made about Tony and alcohol in the MCU.

Alcoholism is a huge part of 616 Tony’s personality, which I went a bit more into depth about in this post, so I won’t repeat myself too much.

5. Their relationships with the Iron Man armor

A few points here: MCU Tony is famous for the “I am Iron Man” line being repeated throughout the franchise after he blows his own secret in the end of the first movie. MCU Tony sees himself as one with Iron Man, and the suit is the tech that enables him to be this version of himself. He sees Tony Stark and Iron Man as inextricable: you cannot separate them, and his identity is public. He, as Tony Stark, is an Avenger.

You may remember MCU Tony’s induction into the Avengers; in Iron Man 2, Nick Fury is forming the Avengers and tasks the Black Widow with going undercover to assess Tony to be a part of a hypothetical initiative. “Iron Man yes, Tony Stark no” and the comments about Tony as a narcissist may be funny, but the fact is, the snark and erratic personality of MCU Tony at the time of the formation of the Avengers in the movies is not at all like the Tony of the comics, at the time of the Avengers being formed.

In 616, things are quite a bit different! Tony invents the Iron man armor to save himself (like in the MCU) and uses it for hero-ing, but in secret. He works very hard to protect his identity as Iron Man, and for a long time, as far as the world is concerned, Iron man is a mystery man piloting armor built by Tony, hired as Tony’s personal body guard, (hence the 616 Steve/Tony fandom’s proclivity for identity porn as a trope!) When the Avengers form, Iron Man is the Avenger, close friends with the Avengers, (particularly Steve!) and Tony Stark is just the benefactor of the Avengers, providing them with a place to live and finances with which to operate.

In the very early days, Tony did not have the “reactor” like in the MCU, but his chest plate did keep him alive, leading to some very dramatic shots of Tony charging up using a wall socket, lamenting the plight of a secret hero.

616 Tony, generally, and especially in some of these earlier comics, was quite reserved, rather serious, and very angsty, (in private of course.) He may be wealthy, but speaking generally, he’s much less ostentatious than MCU Tony, less of a show off, less into flashy things and grand gestures. Of course, this isn’t always true in the comics, and some iterations of Tony are more like this than others, but MCU Tony is showier, sillier, and more of a fun-times guy. Any MCU fan would find those panels quite contrary to the Tony Stark you know:

Iron Man 1

Iron Man 2

I think I would say that while MCU Tony sees himself and the Iron Man identity and the armor as all being inextricably connected, we see a bit more compartmentalization with 616 Tony, who pretends that the armor is a whole separate person for years when his identity was private, and we see instances in older and newer comics, in which Tony is uncomfortable with some aspect of himself as Iron Man (for instance, during the second drinking arc, Tony temporarily swears off being Iron Man entirely, or for another example, when Tony is in a comma and Tony AI exists during Secret Empire, Tony “lives” in the Iron Man suit, and I think this could be interpreted as a meta parallel to Steve during this arc; Steve has had some core aspect of his character inverted, Captain America becoming Captain Hydra, so Tony experiences a similar inversion-- Tony Stark and Iron Man are forcibly merged, in a way that Tony seems deeply uncomfortable with, if his digital drinking relapse is any indication. But I digress; sorry for the tangent.)

Okay this post is inexcusable long, and very, very tangential, and I don’t feel like I’ve really covered everything I wanted to. But it has been sitting in my inbox for too long and if I don’t post it now I never will, so I hope this long, rambling thing has been a little bit helpful to you! Thank you so much for asking, I had a lot of fun rambling about this.

If you want to read a similar post, but well written and organized, with other insights, this post by Sineala answers a similar question!

#Anonymous #han reads comics #han meta #meta #iron man #tony stark #616 tony stark #616 #mcu #long post #han speaks #ask #sorry this definitely gets more incomprehensible as it goes on but i have been writing and rewriting and editing and fretting about this #for so long that if i dont just post it i probably never will and i sunk too many hours into it #to throw it away now 😅#abuse tw #abuse #alcoholism tw #alcoholism

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