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lostinthewiind · 3 years

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Piss Off Your Parents - Part 1

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren't a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner's 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: none

Song → 18 by Anarbor

A/N: if you couldn’t already tell, I have planned this as a series/full story. I was torn between writing it on here or on Wattpad or something, but ultimately decided on Tumblr . . . but let me know if you would prefer it on another platform as well! Also, this series will eventually include smut/NSFW content but that will be tagged appropriately when the time comes. As always, I hope you enjoy.

Next →Part 2

Slamming the front door behind yourself on your way out that morning, you quickly stuffed your earbuds into your ears and cranked your music as loud as you could to drown out the sounds of your parents yelling after you and, consequently, at one another after you had dropped the bomb about your new job on them seconds before you had left, giving them as little time as possible to shame you for it.

After graduating high school and turning 18, you had decided it was time to take your life into your hands, which wasn’t too easy while you were still living under your parents’ roof, but you had to start somewhere and that somewhere was getting a job at the local corner store, Sakanoshita Market.

You knew that your parents wanted you to go to university and ‘make something of yourself’, but you also knew that you could never truly be happy under their dictatorship-like ruling, so you decided to get a job, no matter how shitty, save your money, move out as soon as possible, and go from there.

It was definitely going to be a process, and not an easy one, but all you had to do was take it one step at a time.

Rounding the corner and seeing the market in the distance, you felt your nerves begin to bubble inside of you a little. Sure, you had gotten some part-time jobs here and there during summer vacation before, but you had never gotten a full-time job before and had never needed the money from a job like you did now. Before, the cash you made was for extra spending money during the summer and school year, but now the money you would be making would be funding your future. It seemed like a lot of pressure to put on a job that entailed stocking shelves, checking out customers, and cleaning.

The lady who had hired you had basically explained that since she was getting older and her son, who had been maintaining the place previously, had gotten a new job, the store needed someone to learn the ropes and take care of the place on a daily basis; and since you were young, a fast learner, and didn’t have anything else in your life besides work, you were a perfect fit.

As the shop doors slid open smoothly to welcome you into the store you had been inside countless times in the past, you suddenly felt completely out of place in the familiar market. Now that you were an employee instead of a customer, the atmosphere had completely shifted. Instead of heading right for the fridges to grab a drink like you usually did, your eyes shifted immediately to the front counter where a figure with its feet up hid behind an open newspaper.

Just like every other time you had visited while the store owner’s son was working, he did everything humanly possible to avoid interaction. Usually, you would have appreciated not being bothered while trying to scan the shelves, but since this time was different, the lack of acknowledgement was slightly unnerving.

“Ahem,” you cleared your throat, hoping it was enough to catch his attention. It was not. Instead, he flipped the page of the newspaper and you watched as a hand emerged from behind the paper barrier to flick the ashes from his cigarette into an ashtray sitting beside the register.

Eyebrows furrowed, you really wished that the shop owner herself had been there to greet you for your first day instead of her seemingly useless son. “Hello.” You stepped up to the counter, the feeling of not belonging sinking deeper into your bones.

Slowly, the newspaper separating you from the man behind the counter lowered and the shop owner’s son glared back at you, eyes half-lidded as if he were seconds away from falling asleep and the cigarette from before hanging from his bottom lip. This was far from the first time you had interacted with him, but you would be surprised if he remembered you as a customer even a little. Whenever he checked customers out, you could tell he was running on autopilot.

The man’s eyes drifted down to your hands, which were resting on top of the counter now. Noticing you didn’t have anything to purchase, he cocked a brow. “Need help finding somethin’?”

“Ugh, no,” you answered. “I’m the new employee. I’m supposed to start today.”

His eyes scanned you once more, this time more thoroughly, and you swallowed hard. Feeling as if you were being observed under a microscope, you slid your hands off of the counter and stuffed them into your pockets self-consciously.

As he inspected you inch by inch, you took the time to take a closer look at him as well. With dyed blonde hair, two earrings in his left ear, an apparent nicotine addiction, and a noticeably flippant attitude toward his job, he was the definition of the type of man your parents would kill you for bringing home. Somehow, this only made him more intriguing. You wondered if he really was as disinterested in everything as he seemed or if it was just this job he thoroughly hated and became someone a lot more interesting when he wasn’t behind a counter.

“How old are you?” he asked out of the blue, catching you off guard a little. While he waited for you to answer, he set the newspaper to the side, dragged his feet from the counter top, and patted out some of the wrinkles from the white apron he had tied around his bright orange sweatshirt.

“I’m 18,” you responded, not sure why it mattered but also not seeing any harm in answering honestly.

Seconds later, the door to the back of the shop and storage room opened and the familiar face of the woman who had hired you stepped into view. “Oh, Y/N!” she greeted happily; much more enthusiastically and welcoming than her son. “Sorry about that, I was just getting some last minute things together.” She eyed her son out of the corner of her eye and noted the fresh embers in the ashtray. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

“No, I just got here,” you told her.

“Good.” She smiled sweetly before turning to her son. “Well, you can head out now, Keishin. Thank you for watching the counter.”

“Yeah,” the man, Keishin, grunted as he untied the apron from around his waist, slipped it over his head, and hung it up on a hook behind the counter. “See ya.”

With that, Keishin left, leaving you and his mother alone. Wasting no time, Mrs. Sakanoshita, whom the store was named after, got right to work on teaching you the basics and gifting you with a white apron of your own to wear while on the job. Since it was the middle of the day and the customer flow was relatively slow, she introduced you to how the register and scanner at the counter worked before moving on to unpacking boxes.

Just like you had promised on your resume and during the interview, you were a quick learner and Mrs. Sakanoshita was more than pleased to see you picking up the job quickly and efficiently.

By the time the after work/school rush of patrons picking up items on their way home had begun, you were feeling confident in your abilities and, with your boss by your side to answer any questions you may have, you checked out customer after customer, building up muscle memory for scanning items, collecting cash, opening the register, handing out receipts, and sending customers on their merry way.

All in all, the job was quickly growing on you. You liked the fact that, for the most part, you were the only employee on duty, so when there weren’t any customers in the store, you could work silently on unpacking boxes without having to worry about making small talk or being friendly with any coworkers. In fact, as far as you knew, the only people who worked at the store at all were you, Mrs. Sakanoshita, and her son, Keishin.

It seemed as though you had really landed a sweet gig.

After showing you how to lock up, Mrs. Sakanoshita headed home for the night, leaving you to finish stocking the shelves and cleaning the shop before you would head home as well.

Now that you were truly the only person left, you walked over to the old radio you had spotted on the counter during training that day and fiddled with the dials, trying to get some music playing to accompany you during your evening chores. After some careful handiwork and enduring some horrendous static and high-pitched screeching while searching for a station, you settled on what sounded like some old instrumental music and got to work on stocking the remaining shelves.

Throughout your shift, you quickly learned that the store got quite warm during the day and you had needed to tie your hair up to keep the back of your neck from dripping with sweat. The night wasn’t much better either, especially since the lack of customers so late meant that the doors rarely opened, keeping the cold night air outside and the warm store air inside.

After finishing the last box of supplies, you exhaled and wiped your brow. You were exhausted, that was for sure, but you still had to sweep.

Deciding to take a quick break, you turned toward the floor-to-ceiling fridges at the back of the shop and pulled open the door, sighing happily when the cool air hit your skin. Exhaling slowly, you snickered when you saw your breath fog up in front of you face.

“You’re letting all the cold air out.”

You shrieked when you heard a voice in your right ear and slammed the fridge door shut, jumping back in the process. Thanks to the music from the radio and the loud hum of the generator that kept the fridges cold, you hadn’t heard the front doors slide open or the footsteps of Keishin approaching you.

“Jesus!” You clamped your hand over your chest. “You scared the shit out of me!”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Sorry?”

“What are you doing here?”

Keishin glared at you. “You work here one day and suddenly act like you own the place?”

Realizing how rude your question had come across, you composed yourself and rephrased. “What I meant was, your mom didn’t say you were coming back.”

Pointing upward, Keishin sighed, disinterested. “I live in the apartment above the shop.”

“Oh.” Things started making much more sense and you suddenly felt pretty embarrassed for how you had reacted.

“Yeah . . . oh.” He rolled his eyes, but it didn’t come across necessarily rude but more like he was exhausted and you were adding to said exhaustion. “Why were you standing with the door open anyway?”

As he spoke, he stepped toward you. At first, your feet felt cemented to the floor and you didn’t move. But when he persisted closer, you eventually stumbled back and Keishin opened the fridge door you had been standing in front of to grab a beer from inside. With drink in hand, he eyed you once again, waiting for an answer.

“It’s really hot,” you said, gesturing to his orange sweater. “I don’t know how you wear that thing in here.”

Looking down at his apparel, he just shrugged. “You’ll get used to it.” He turned and started for the counter, presumably to pay for the drink he had just taken. “In the future, stand outside if you’re warm.”

“Okay.” You nodded, mindlessly tailing him. You had to grab the broom from behind the counter anyway, but that was the furthest thing from the front of your mind at that moment. If anything, you were still trying to calm down a little from being startled and now being alone with your boss��s son. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” He popped the tab on the beer, settled into the stool behind the counter, and downed at least half of the drink in a few large gulps.

You watched him, probably a little too closely, and as you did you found yourself reexamining the features you had taken note of earlier that day: the dyed blonde hair held out of his face with a thin black headband, the natural brown hair that peeked out from the roots, the two small silver hoop earrings in his left ear, the scent of cigarette smoke that clung to him like how the smell of rain clung to the air after a heavy storm.

Noticing your gaze, which would have been nearly impossible to miss, Keishin quirked a brow at you and held out the can of beer toward you. “You want a sip?”

Startled from your thoughts, you shook your head. “I’m only 18.” You reminded him.

“Oh, right.” He withdrew the can and took another sip, this one much smaller than the first few. “Then why are you looking at me like that?”

Eyes wide, you thought quick to come up with an excuse. “The broom.” You pointed to the item behind him. “Can you pass me the broom?”

After handing you the broom, Keishin pulled a slip of paper and a pen out from his pocket and started writing and scribbling things down, sipping the remainder of his beer occasionally and ignoring you completely.

Trying to avoid staring at Keishin anymore than you already had, you started sweeping at the far end of the store and left the area around and behind the counter for last. Eventually, though, you had worked your way back over to the the silent man and was forced to clean the floor behind where he was sitting, trying hard not to disturb him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of what he was so focused on; it looked like a crude drawing of a volleyball court. “What’s that?” you asked, the words leaving your mouth before you realized you were being rude again and snooping.

Keishin, however, didn’t seem angry or annoyed in the slightest. “Volleyball positions,” he huffed. It was clear he was growing frustrated.

“You play volleyball?”

He shook his head and looked over his shoulder at you. “I used to. Now I coach the boy’s team at Karasuno.”

“I went to Karasuno,” you said mindlessly, just trying to make conversation at that point.

He hummed in response and turned his attention back to the sheet before him. “Did you play volleyball?”

“No. Soccer.”

“Do you still play?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Do you still play volleyball?”

“With a neighbourhood association sometimes . . . but not really.”

“Why?”

The corners of his mouth curling up into a smirk, Keishin looked back to you once more. “I asked you first.”

“It’s not a good answer.” You leaned against the broom handle and sighed. “Don’t have the time.”

“You’re young and just graduated high school. You’ve got nothing but time.”

“Not with this job.”

Keishin scoffed, folded the paper, and shoved it back into his pocket with the pen. “Speaking of which, why would you take such a boring job at a store like this?”

You just shrugged. “I need the money.”

“Don’t you live with your parents?”

“That’s the problem,” you said, noticing the confusion on his face. “I told you it wasn’t a good answer.”

“Do they know you work here?”

“Do they know? Yes,” you answered truthfully. “Do they like it? Absolutely not.”

Keishin grinned at that before finishing his beer and tossing the empty can into the recycling bin beside the front door. “So you’re one of those teens, huh?”

You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Trust me, kid, pissing off your parents just for the sake of it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

“You think I’m doing all this just because I can?”

“Aren’t you?”

“No.”

“Why then?”

“That story’s too long and convoluted for me to recite right now . . . especially to some old dude I just met today.”

Keishin chuckled under his breath, hands stuffed into his pockets as he headed for the door at the back of the shop so he could head upstairs to his apartment. “’Old dude’,” he repeated, clearly amused. “Don’t forget to lock up before you go home.”

As he turned his back to you, your curiosity got the better of you. “How old are you?”

Stopping in his tracks, Keishin pulled out a carton of cigarettes from his pants’ pocket along with a lighter. After placing the smoke between his lips, he lit it and inhaled deeply. “Too old for you, sweetheart,” he spoke while exhaling, smoke spilling from his lips as he smirked at you.

With that, he disappeared into the back. You wanted to shout after him that you had told him how old you were without hesitation when he had asked, but you stayed silent instead.

As much as his presence unnerved you and his superiority complex aggravated you, you still found yourself inexplicably drawn to him. Maybe it was because he seemed completely disinterested in you, or maybe it was because he was everything you were always told to stay away from.

The one thing you did know, however, was that if everyone around you was going to keep trying to convince you they knew how you should live your life better than you did, you were going to prove to them just how they wrong they were one way or another.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #lostinthewiind #fanfiction #fluff #eventual smut #ukai keishin #reader insert #x reader #reader imagine #song fic #ukai keishin x reader #ukai #keishin #smut #haikyuu smut

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weasleylangs · 4 years

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if you don’t know, let me go - f.w

Pairing: Fred x Fem!Slytherin!Reader Summary: It’s always seemed like they’ve been dancing the line between friends and more, so why does he take a different girl to the ball? Warnings: Some swearing, pining that one character is too much of a dummy to see, a bit of angst but it eventually becomes fluff I promise, jealousy but nothing toxic, underage drinking but it’s like one line. Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: This is my first fanfiction in literally forever, so any feedback is always appreciated! Requests are open if you like this and want more! Also this got stupidly long fast, I can barely write book reviews on Goodreads without writing a novel so my bad, I’m sorry if you don’t like long fics. (Also cross-posted on AO3 as the tumblr tags don’t seem to be my friend right now.)

- Also, thank you so much to @lumosandnoxwriting for answering all my questions on how to get back into writing!

Send me an ask or a dm if you would like to be added to a tag list!

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“Do you think he’s going to ask you?”

It’s Wednesday afternoon, late enough for class to be over but too early for dinner and Y/N’s attempt at understanding anything in her potions textbook is broken by Alicia Spinnet talking to her. Despite the fact she hadn’t said a name, Y/N knows immediately who she was talking about and she shrugs in response, closing her book and accepting that studying was not on the table for the rest of the night now the ball has been mentioned.

“Probably not.” She deadpans. Y/N’s been trying not to get her hopes up that Fred would ask her to the Yule Ball since it was announced three days ago. Alicia’s already been asked by George- who immediately did a dramatic reenactment of some muggle proposal he’d seen in a movie as soon as Dumbledore announced it. But Fred had been more reluctant to ask anyone, despite people’s assumption that he could get anyone he pleased. Y/N only hoped this was because he was too shy of taking whatever they were from friends to lovers.

No one really understood how the outspoken and mischievous redhead became friends with the snarky Slytherin girl, but 6 years into their schooling people have stopped questioning it. They had formed an unexplainable bond the second they met on the train to Hogwarts when they were eleven years old that may have included both shouting at blood purists and now it seems to have evolved into something beyond just a friendship.

Lingering stares, soft touches, the fact neither of them had really dated anyone else because they were too caught up with each other. Everyone, including their friends, have all placed bets on how long it’ll take for the two of them to ‘fess up and finally get together.

“What makes you say that?” Alicia asks, genuinely. She’s heard first hand the teasing George and Lee give Fred over his feelings for Y/N in the Gryffindor common room when they think they’re alone so she finds it hard to believe he hasn’t even hinted at them going together yet.

Y/N shrugs. “I just think if he wanted to go with me, he’d ask me by now… Y’know?” Alicia can’t really deny her logic. Fred’s never been the one to shy away from being outspoken about anything really in the whole six years she’s known him, so even she can admit it’s weird that Fred hasn’t asked her.

“Maybe he just assumes you guys are going together?” Alicia starts, and before Y/N can argue back, she holds up a hand, “I’ll ask him after dinner tonight. I can guarantee Lee or George will join in and you’ll have your date by Transfiguration tomorrow!” Y/N shakes her head and laughs, and starts packing her things, mumbling about Alicia is a meddler and that she’ll see her later.

Y/N’s walking to the Great Hall for dinner when it happens. Adrian Pucey, star quidditch chaser for the Slytherin team slinks up next to her and scares her enough to almost drop the books she has clutched in her hands. She’s never had a problem with Adrian- their parents are in similar friendship circles so she sees him at family friend events outside of school, but she’s never considered him a friend either, which is why his approach to her is so odd.

“Sorry about that,” he laughs, shoving his hands in his pockets as Y/N clutches her chest. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she starts, “You’re just very quiet. I’m used to being almost tackled to the ground when I see friends.” She laughs, but she doesn’t miss the awkward tension in the air and she can’t help but assume what’s coming next.

“I just wanted to ask if, uh, if you don’t have a date to the ball… If you’d like to go with me?”

Y/N gulps. She knows she shouldn’t be putting all her eggs in the Fred Weasley marked basket, but she can’t help but remember her conversation with Alicia only an hour ago.

‘You’ll have your date by Transfiguration tomorrow!’

Adrian senses her hesitation and lets out a breath that sounds like he’s almost laughing. “You’re waiting for one of Weasley twins to ask you, aren’t you? Fred, right?” She hates how easily he caught on.

“Adrian, I- Ugh, I’m sorry. But yeah… I am.” She feels her cheeks heat up in embarrassment at someone she’s not even friends with pointing it out. She can’t help but think maybe this is a sign though, that if everyone else is expecting it, why hasn’t he asked her yet?

“No, it’s all good. But the offers on the table if he’s too pussy to ask you out.” He gives a kind smile as he walks off to catch up with Marcus Flint who’s drilling Malfoy about quidditch plays.

She exhales slowly and finally makes it to the Great Hall. She scans the tables looking for her closest friend in Slytherin- Daphne Greengrass and once she finds her, she quickly makes her way over to her. Dinner is relatively uneventful since she’s sitting with her house, and George manages to catch her eye at one point and mouths ‘miss you’ to which she laughs and says she misses him back.

She’s about to get up and leave when the last thing she expects to happen, happens. She hears Ron exclaim loudly that Fred can’t make fun of him for not having a date because he doesn’t have one either. Y/N feels her heart start to race, knowing if anyone’s going to prove a point to Ron, it’ll be Fred Weasley. She doesn’t hear what Fred’s reply is but Harry and Ron both scoff, and one of them says ‘ask a girl out if it’s so easy then.’

Y/N’s about to approach the Gryffindor table when George’s eye catches her, and he shakes his head. Fred has already thrown a scrunched-up piece of paper at Angelina and her heart sinks.

“Angelina! Will you go to the ball with me?”

As Angelina laughs and says yes to Fred, it feels like the whole Great Hall is either watching their altercation or watching Y/N in pity. Her heart now feels like it’s in her throat, and she needs to get out of the room before she cries or yells at Fred. She pivots on her heel and is met face-to-face with Daphne, who nods in silent agreement that they’re going back to their dorm.

Y/N is halfway down the long tables with the door in her sights when she spots Adrian out of the peripheral of her eye. She can tell he’s looking at her in pity and in a weird way, she feels the need to show defiance against Fred Weasley. She needs to show she doesn’t need pity, especially right now, that she can get a date herself. So she stops in front of the Slytherin quidditch team and slightly smirks.

“That offer to the ball still on the table?”

Daphne spends the night taking Y/N’s mind off the Weasley family. They sit in their dorm together, once again trying to study for potions which eventually leads into ball talk yet again. Daphne can tell the idea of going to the ball with anyone who isn't Fred is unnerving for Y/N, but there’s no backing down now.

“That was kind of a badass move, y’know?” She starts, treading lightly as they eventually reach the elephant in the room, ‘Asking Adrian after what happened.”

It doesn’t feel badass to Y/N. She feels like she’s cheating on the redhead that owns her heart, but she knows that’s ridiculous. Fred clearly has no form of feelings for her and she’s decided to get over him.

“It’s nothing…” She starts and she sees Daphne’s eyebrows raise. They’ve been roommates every year since they started school together so they’re both aware this is a big lie. “I didn’t want to go alone. Everyone else had dates already and Adrian’s nice. Plus, he did ask me before…”

Daphne nods, not wanting to press further. “Have you got a dress yet?” It had said on their packing list for the school year to bring a dress or dress robes so everyone’s already well prepared. Y/N nods and walks towards the closet before pulling out a floor-length silver gown with lace detailing. She smiles shyly as Daphne gasps in awe.

“Eat your heart out, Fred Weasley!” For the first time all night, Y/N laughs. She knows she’s going to look stunning in the dress and while she has no ill resentment towards Angelina for agreeing to go with Fred, she can’t help but feel a little bit coy knowing Fred’s going to see her in it.

She’s sitting at her desk in Transfiguration the next day when he finally acknowledges her presence. She’s twiddling her quill in her fingers, dreading the moment the troublemaker waltzes into the class. His usual seat is the one next to her, while George and Lee sit in front of them but she can only hope Alicia takes the hint and sits with her before Fred does.

She doesn’t get her wish. She’s about two seconds away from dozing off when the seat screeches against the hardwood flooring below them and she looks to her left to see Fred smirking.

“Hi love,'' he starts, the nickname not feeling out of ordinary, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” He says, and it’s true. He hadn’t seen her since class yesterday. He had looked for her before dinner to tell her about the prank he’d pulled on Filch with George while she was studying and he’d barely seen her during dinner.

Her heart starts to speed up at the nickname, and she forces down the bile she feels growing in her throat. “Yeah, I just ate dinner and went to bed yesterday. Been studying for potions. Sixth year is hard.” She’s trying to be short and sweet and maybe a little blunt but Fred doesn’t pick up on it. “Heard you asked Angelina to the ball too.” She’s hoping to whoever’s listening to her prayers that the jealousy isn’t evident in her voice and by the dopey smile that grows on Fred’s face, her prayers were answered.

“Yeah! Ron was being such a prat, telling me I couldn’t make fun of him for…” But she drowns his voice out. It might be a bitch move, but she really doesn’t need to hear the who, where, when and why he asked Angelina out. It’s clear to Y/N that Fred didn’t even notice her existence at dinner and that stings more than she’d like to admit.

She can barely concentrate during class. Fred has never really shown to care about any academic success, so he spends the entire period trying to entertain Y/N and get her to speak to him but she’s being stubborn and Fred can’t help but wonder what he did wrong. He starts to think maybe she’s just had a bad day, but when the bell rings and she storms off without even saying goodbye to him he’s dumbfounded.

“Trouble in paradise, brother?” George teases when he sees the frown adorned on Fred’s face.

“Have I done anything to upset Y/N?” He questions and he sees the way George and Lee both give each other a look. They know something he doesn’t and that leaves a feeling of uneasiness in his chest. Y/N and himself have always been closer than her and George and especially her and Lee. He was there for her when her parents were fighting constantly when she was 11 and when Marcus Flint started bullying her in 3rd year. He was even there when she cried to him last year about the guy she loved and how he was so stupidly blind to her feelings and while she didn’t give a name, Fred was dying to go punch whoever it was for not realising he had his best friend’s heart.

“If you have, it’s not up for us to tell you, mate.” Lee states and he hides behind George when he notices the scowl on Fred’s face. Lee knows better than to get between him and Y/N, but he isn’t wrong.

“Look, Alicia said she was fine when they left the library yesterday evening,” George starts, and he knows he shouldn’t be lying to his brother and best friend, but it’s not a huge lie, and maybe it’ll push his oblivious brother to realise what he did to upset his best friend, “She was at dinner last night when you asked Angie to the ball and then she went to her dorm with Daphne. Heard something about her saying yes to Adrian Pucey asking her to the ball…” While George made extra emphasis on the fact Y/N witnessed Fred asking Angelina to the ball, Fred’s eyes glaze over in rage when George mentions Adrian and he has a feeling his twin has got the wrong idea.

“I bet Adrian did something to her. Fuck him, honestly.” And before George and Lee can stop him, Fred’s stalking out of the classroom with Adrian Pucey in his sights.

Fred doesn’t find Adrian until later that afternoon, standing on the pitch and clad in his quidditch robes, yelling at someone who Fred assumes is Montague. He thinks now is probably a bad time to confront him, but he's blinded by the thought that he’s hurt Y/N.

“Pucey!” He shouts and when Adrian turns around, he chuckles and smirks at Fred. He was expected this later rather than sooner, specifically during dinner, but he guesses now will have to do.

“What?” He asks, but they both know why he’s here and he’s just enjoying riling Fred up.

“What did you do Y/N?” Adrian scoffs at this and shakes his head which confuses Fred. “What did I do to Y/N?” Fred stands his ground, chest puffed up. Adrian might be a fair bit shorter than Fred but Adrian hasn’t got anything to be scared of. Sure he’s seen Fred throw a punch or two and he’s definitely been on the receiving end of a bludger from the Weasley during a game, but he knows he isn’t the one that hurt Y/N here.

“I think you should be asking yourself that, mate. Y/N only agreed to going to the ball with me after you asked Angelina out right in front of her.” This causes Fred to look at Adrian in confusion and Adrian laughs at Fred again. He’s confused, why would asking Angelina out hurt Y/N?

It turns out he said that out loud, because two seconds later Adrian is responding to him, “Because she was expecting you to ask her, Weasley.”

Adrian doesn’t even wait for Fred’s reply before stalking off to the Slytherin change rooms and Fred’s left standing on the pitch, wondering why the ache in his chest is almost debilitating at the thought of hurting Y/N and questioning why he feels the need to throw up knowing she’s happily going with Adrian Pucey.

Fred’s next port of call is finding Y/N. After his talk with Adrian, he needs to find out why she expected him to ask her to the ball. He would’ve happily gone with her, but to Fred, she hadn’t even dropped a single hint at wanting to go with him and when she’s finally located, she’s in the library with Daphne.

“This is my exit cue,” Daphne mutters as she notices the redhead roaming around the library looking for Y/N. She doesn’t even have a moment to question Daphne before the seat in front of her is suddenly occupied by the last person she was hoping to see again.

“Why are you going with Pucey?” Is the first thing that leaves Fred’s mouth, and it wasn’t what Y/N was expecting. She splutters, only for a few seconds, before eventually replying.

“He asked me.”

Fred’s eyebrows furrow, but didn’t Pucey say she wanted to go with him? “A little birdie said you wanted to go with me. So, how come you’re going with him.”

Now Y/N scoffs and Fred can’t help but notice how many people are scoffing at him today just for asking questions and it’s getting annoying. “You didn’t ask me. He did. So, I said yes. Don’t understand why it’s such a big deal.” She’s intentionally being short, hopefully not spilling anything about her feelings for the boy in front of her.

“I didn’t know you wanted to go with me, Y/N. How was I supposed to know?” At this, Y/N goes from feeling hurt to angry and she can’t explain why her hands start to shake.

“How were you supposed to know?” She exclaims loudly which causes her to receive a rather nasty ‘sh’ from Madam Pince and a few O.W.L students surrounding her.

“Have you seen the way we act around each other Fred?” She’s now whisper yelling and the confused look on Fred’s face as she says this just aggravates her further and she’s convinced no one is this daft and he’s pushing her buttons on purpose. “Because everyone thinks we’re fucking dating already, Fred. You have to constantly be touching me, we’re always together, you call me darling and love and you kiss me on the forehead when I fucking bring you sugar quills from Hogsmeade because they’re your favourite and whenever you have spare money you always buy me Honeydukes chocolate because you said you like seeing me blush when you buy me things. You’re telling me now that we’re just friends?”

If the ache in Fred’s chest was almost debilitating on the quidditch pitch earlier, right now it feels like he’s about to go into cardiac arrest. Her cheeks are flushed, her fists are clenched, pieces of her hair are falling out of her bun that’s resting on top of her head and, worst of all, Fred’s noticed the tears of anger and frustration pooling in her eyes.

She sighs before continuing, trying to compose herself so he doesn’t see her crying over him, unaware he’s already noticed the tears threatening to fall. Her voice is sad and broken, and it feels like the ending point for her.

“I was just stupid enough to assume this year was the year we would finally admit we’re more than friends, Freddie. But I guess all this time it’s been one-sided. I hope you have a good time at the ball with Angelina.”

Fred grabs her wrist as she starts to pack up her things and looks at her, scanning her face for any form of emotion. “Let me go, Fred.” She looks at him with pleading eyes and he lets go of the grasp he has on her wrist.

Fred doesn’t try to stop her again as she hastily packs up her things and he sadly watches her leave the library without turning to look at him.

Y/N doesn’t care if it’s considered dramatic, but she lays in bed and cries for the rest of the day. While she hasn’t gone through a literal break-up, it feels like her friendship with Fred is over. At least, she’s decided, it’s over until she gets over her feelings for him.

Daphne tries everything in her power to comfort her. She rubs her back, plays with her hair and even puts on ABBA to try and get Y/N to dance just to cheer her up. Y/N feels horrible she’s basically conned Daphne into babysitting her breakdown but Daphne constantly reassures her it’s okay.

“Do you want me to go beat him up? I might be short and weak and he’s the size of a tree but I could take him.” Y/N sniffles a laugh at this, and smiles. She’s truly grateful for everything Daphne’s been doing for her and she makes a mental note to get her an extra special Christmas present next time she goes to Hogsmeade.

However, it turns out essentially ending the friendship with Fred ends her friendships with most of the Gryffindors. She was expecting this, but when George can’t even meet her eye in class her heart breaks into even smaller pieces. George has always been like a brother to her, someone she could tell anything too without worry of being judged. He was the first person she told when she realised she liked Fred and Y/N was the first person, besides Fred, that George told his feelings for Alicia for.

Y/N feels alone but she’s stubborn so she refuses to show it. She sits with Daphne in every class, essentially kicking poor Cassius Warrington who’s been pining after Daphne for 3 years into a different spot in class and she sometimes even sits with Adrian during lunch. It turns out they have a lot more in common than just the fact they’re in Slytherin and pure-bloods and Y/N’s pain in her chest is slowly but surely disappearing.

While her feelings for Fred still exist, her heart slowly feels like it’s being mended. It’s only when she spots Fred sulking during lunch one day that the ache returns. She was usually the one who he went too when feeling bad- him being too embarrassed to go to George. She hopes he’s okay, but she shakes the idea of approaching him, knowing he’s got Angelina to keep him company. The pang in her chest stays a little bit longer that day.

The Yule Ball arrives quicker than expected and Y/N and Daphne spend all day getting ready with a bunch of other Slytherin students. It’s nice, while they don’t all usually get along, the house loyalty between them is unmistakable.

Most of them are acutely aware of Y/N’s ‘Weasley Situation’ and while some of them give her pity looks, most of the younger girls have expressed their jealousy that she’s going with Adrian. This makes her laugh and shake her head and she often replies that boys aren’t all that and no boy is worth being jealous over. She feels like a wise mother almost, never wanting them to feel the way she’s felt the past few weeks.

Daphne and Y/N arrive at the Great Hall together, giggling about how bad Y/N is at walking in heels and placing bets on how quick they’re going to come off. While Daphne is counting her galleons in her purse to confirm the bet, Y/N catches a glimpse of Fred and Angelina. He looks so handsome, his dress robes a mixture of gold and black and she can’t help but think how well they’d go together. But when she looks at Angelina she feels like she’s going to pass out.

Angelina is stunning, and there’s no doubt about it. She’s in a floor-length dark purple gown that compliments her skin perfectly and Y/N thinks if Fred was going with anyone to the ball, she’s glad it’s Angelina.

Cassius and Adrian soon appear by the girls and take their arms into the Great Hall that’s been transformed to look like a winter wonderland. The roof tonight is bewitched to look like a winter, snowy day and Y/N can’t help but admire it. She’s grown up with magic her entire life, but she can’t help but constantly be amazed.

Adrian pulls a flask out of his dress robes jacket which makes Y/N snort and he smiles happily at her. Of course he snuck Firewhiskey into the Ball. The action reminds her of something Fred would do and she shakes her head, trying to get the boy out of her mind, tonight of all nights.

“You look beautiful tonight, by the way.” Adrian states as he takes a swig of the flask, and she feels her cheeks heat up. She can hear the sincerity in his voice. “You don’t scrub up so badly either, Pucey.”

“A dance, m’lady?” He jokingly bows to Y/N and she smiles while she takes his hand and he leads her to the dance floor. As Adrian twirls Y/N around the dance floor, albeit messily because neither of them paid attention in dance classes held by Snape of all people, she forgets about the redhead who’s stare is burning holes into the back of her head.

“You’re a shit date, y’know.” Angelina laughs and Fred’s broken out of his trance. “Shit, Angie, I’m so sorry.”

Angelina isn’t wrong. She’s a smart girl, and she’s well aware of Fred’s longing stares towards the Slytherin girl. “Did you know? That you wanted to go with her?” Angelina questions, out of sheer curiosity. Even she was shocked when Fred asked her, but she was too dumbfounded when he asked and with everyone watching at dinner, the pressure to say yes was immense but it was not worth all the pain and heartache she’s watched her two friends go through.

“At the time? No, definitely not. She’s…” He trails off as he tries to find the right words, “She’s always been there, y’know? I just assumed she’d be in my life forever and what we had was what we’d always be… It felt normal, like I didn’t feel the way I feel about her with you, or Katie or Alicia but it felt like that’s how you’re meant to feel about your girl best friend?”

He looks over at them again, and the gross feeling of jealousy rises in his throat. “But then she said yes to Pucey, and all I can think about is how no one should be holding her but me and that he'll walk her all the way back to her dorm tonight and probably kiss her and I feel like throwing up, and...” He pauses and looks at Angelina and the pity in her eyes is obvious. “And you don’t think about your best friend like this.”

Angelina watches in pity as Fred clearly drowns his sorrows in pumpkin juice and she drags him onto the dance floor. She’s not letting Fred have a bad night and she refuses to have one as well. Fred is one of her best friends, and even though she might not be the girl he wishes he was here with, she’s determined to cheer him up somehow.

Fred finally starts to have a good time when he spots George slyly leading Alicia out of the Great Hall and he loudly wolf whistles causing a red hue to form on both their cheeks and George to flip Fred the bird as they leave. Angelina spots Y/N grab her purse across the room while Fred’s distracted and she quietly leaves just after George and Alicia.

Alone.

“Y/N just left, Fred. Alone.” Fred’s confused why Angelina is telling him this when he looks over at Daphne and Adrian, who both look at him like ‘Go you fucking idiot’ and before he can even mutter a goodbye to his friends, he’s out the door almost as fast as George was.

He finds Y/N sitting on a bench in the courtyard. She’s looking up at the stars and Fred stars to recall last summer when she visited The Burrow. She spent all night trying to point out constellations to Fred and as he watches her mutter to herself, Fred wonders how he didn’t realise that they were in love this entire time.

He clears his throat, careful not to startle Y/N and when she turns Fred can see the hesitation in her face as she quickly goes to jump up and leave.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have stolen the prime make-out spot of the night.” She awkwardly laughs but then quickly realises Fred is alone. “Nevermind… Where’s Angelina?”

Fred shrugs, and sits down on the bench she was sitting on originally. Y/N stands awkwardly before sitting down next to him. As much as she hates to admit it, she’s missed being close to him. The warmth that radiates off him despite it being the middle of winter causes her to shuffle just that slightly bit closer to him and Fred can’t help but smile.

“You look beautiful tonight. I know Adrian probably told you already, at least I hope he did, but you deserve to know.” Fred could feel himself rambling and he doesn’t miss the blush that rises across Y/N’s neck and cheeks. It’s the exact same blush that appears whenever he buys her chocolates and his heart soars.

“Thanks Freddie,” the nickname feels foreign on her tongue, “you look pretty handsome yourself. I hope Angelina told you.” She retaliates and Fred hates it. He hates the awkwardness between them. He wants nothing more to wrap his arms around her and hold her close but they feel like strangers.

“Thanks,” he laughs and Y/N looks at him confused. “Did you have a good night?”

“Can we not have this awkward small talk? I’m sure Angelina’s waiting for you somewhere.” Fred’s taken aback by her abruptness and stares at her for a few seconds. “What?” She asks when she notices Fred looking at her like she has nine heads.

“Angelina’s not waiting for me. Is Adrian waiting for you?” He asks but he doesn’t want to know the answer. He’s gone through a rollercoaster of emotions these past few weeks and he truly doesn’t want to know if another man is waiting for her to sweep her off her feet and walk back to the Slytherin common room. But when she shakes her head, Fred lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding.

“I need to apologise.” He blurts out and Fred wants to smack himself in the head. This was not the romantic moment he had envisioned in his head as he followed her outside into the courtyard. “I need to apologise for a lot of things. Mostly, for not realising how ridiculously in love with you I am, and also for not asking you to the ball and for ruining our friend-”

“You didn’t ruin our friendship.” She cuts him off but she doesn’t know what else to say. “You didn’t. I did, if anything.” Fred has to stop himself from starting an argument on who ruined the friendship but he wants to backtrack. Did Y/N just ignore him confessing his love to her?

“Well, I’m still sorry for not realising how ridiculously in love with you I am?” He tries again sheepishly and Y/N gives him a double-take. She heard him the first time but she was convinced it was just her ears playing tricks on her or Fred being a menace. After all, this is Fred Weasley in front of her, he’s always looking for a joke and as she’s about to accuse him of pulling a sick, twisted prank on her, she looks at him properly.

And he’s looking as serious as he did the day he told her he plans to open a joke shop with George after they graduate.

“You’re in love with me?” She asks quietly and her heart is racing again. She thinks back to the day she accidentally confessed to Fred and how she’s spent the last few weeks trying to fall out of love with him just for him to admit he’s fallen in love with her. “Fred, if this is some sick and twisted joke I will never forgive you.”

Fred almost looks hurt at this, that she thinks he’s capable of something that cruel. So instead of speaking, he softly cups her face in both his hands and runs his thumbs across her cheekbones in a loving manner. He looks her directly in the eyes and Y/N doesn’t think she’s breathed in the last 30 seconds.

She’s been craving being this close to Fred for as long as she can remember. Their lingering touches were never this intimate and right now, she feels like she can look into Fred’s eyes and see into his core, his soul. And he can do the same to her.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks softly, and Y/N gasps before nodding, wanting nothing more than to feel his lips against hers.

As he leans in his eyes flutter close, as do her’s. Y/N hasn’t kissed a lot of people in her life, but nothing could ever compare to the way she feels right now. The love and adoration Fred is pouring into this kiss almost brings tears to her eyes and she can only hope he can feel the love and adoration she has for him back.

Their lips move in perfect synchrony, neither of them pushing each other too far, but when Y/N drags her fingers through Fred’s hair and he lets out a groan, she can’t help but pull away and giggle.

“I’ve missed hearing you laugh.” Fred’s arms are now wrapped around her middle and he’s leaning down to press his forehead against hers. Now he has her in his arms, he’s never letting her go.

“I’ve missed having you make me laugh, Freddie.” She says sincerely and it’s Fred’s turn to blush. He knows they need to eventually leave their little bubble of happiness they finally have but he doesn’t want too. But he knows they need to talk about what happened, about them, what they are and Fred so desperately hopes this means Y/N is his.

She senses Fred’s thinking and she looks up at him, doe-eyed and innocent and Fred’s heart melts.

“Stop overthinking.” She mutters, running her hand through his long hair again and Fred almost looks like a cat purring as he feels her fingernails rake across his scalp and he leans into her touch. “Can’t help it. Don’t want to lose you again.”

Her heart pounds, this is all she’s ever wanted to hear and now she wants to hear it every single day. So she tells him exactly that.

“I’m yours, Freddie. As long as you’re mine? If you don’t know what you want it’s okay, I promise we can take it slow-” Fred cuts her off, laughing as he kisses her again and he feels how warm Y/N’s cheeks are, as she blushes over Fred silencing her with a kiss. When he pulls back, her face is flush, her hair is falling out of her bun. It reminds Fred of that day in the library, except this time, the happiness in her face is unmistakably there, and finally he’s the cause of it.

“Of course, I’m yours, darling. I’m never letting you go.”

Late the next morning, when Y/N is trying her best to sneak out of the Gryffindor sixth year boys dormitory with a dark purple hickey adorning her neck, she spots three 4th years whose names she doesn’t even know, giving Ron Weasley five galleons.

Ron sees her, and smirks. “My bet was at the ball. Thanks, Y/N, you and Freddie boy have made me a very rich man.”

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#fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley x reader

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poc-movie-supremacy · 3 years

Text

I’m coming home to you

Christopher wanted to see his Buck today and who was Eddie to refuse? They picked up Buck for a nice day at the pier. When things go from great to catastrophic, will Eddie reunite with Buck and Christopher. Based off this tumblr post by @sexyapplemilk

This story is for @sexyapplemilk/ @fandom-101 @its-like-looking-in-3d

Thank you to @not-falling-but-flying for reading over this long long fic!

I hope you guys like it!

----

Eddie and Buck had the same day off. Well Eddie had the day off and Buck didn’t have work but potato potatoe. It was Saturday so Chris didn’t have school today either.

Eddie was sitting across from Chris at the breakfast table munching their way through breakfast. It had been a quiet morning so far, Chris was lost in his own thoughts. Eddie wondered if his kid was planning anything, but decided not to put much thought into it.

“Daddy can we see Bucky today?” The question made Eddie cock his eyebrow. He knew that Buck had been wallowing in his bed for the past few days after he got the news he couldn’t go back to work just yet. Part of him didn’t want to disturb the younger man, but the other part of him figured this could be good for Buck. Also he can’t say no to his kid.

“Let me ask him if he’s free.” Eddie will probably come over anyways, Buck can’t get mad at him, he had Chris. “Finish your breakfast first though mijo.” Chris shouts in joy and resumes eating his breakfast, bagel with fruits cause eddie can’t mess that up, with renewed rigour. Eddie smiles fondly at his kid while he takes a bit of fruit.

Eddie made Chris finish getting ready for the day. They had to do Chris’s PT, get changed, fix their hair. Eddie combed his hair back, put on a nice white shirt and a plaid button up, jeans, and some sneakers. Chris put on a yellow stripped shirt and blue pants. He waited impatiently for his dad by the door. Eddie chuckled, unlocked the door then walked with his kid to the car. “What do you want to do for today Chris?”

“We can color or Bucky says he got a new video game!”

“You don’t want to go outside?”

Chris looks at his dad curiously. Eddie helps him into the car then doubling back to get into the drivers seat. He starts the car and starts to drive. “What could we do outside?”

“You could go to the park, play on the play structure?”

Chris wrinkles his nose. “Bucky can’t fit on it though, I know, we’ve tried.” Eddie laughs out loud at that. The idea of Buck trying to fit into a play structure is way too amusing.

“Well okay then, no park, we could… go to the laser tag?”

“I promised I’d go with Denny next week though.”

“Hmmm yea we gotta keep our promises don’t we?”

“That’s what you always say.”

“Well maybe Buck will have better ideas huh?”

“Bucky has the best ideas!”

---

They get up to Buck’s apartment and Eddie doesn’t knock, instead he just lets himself in. The apartment is eerily quiet and Eddie wonders if Buck wasn’t home. “Buck, Hey Buck me and Chris are here to hang out.” He looks around the apartment for any signs of his best friend.

“Daddy look.” Chris points up to the loft to the mass on the bed.

Eddie smiles proudly at his kid. “Good job mijo. Go sit in the living room while I go rouse Buck.”

“Can I watch tv?”

“Sure kid.”

Eddie sets Chris up in the living room before heading up to Buck. The bedroom is a bit messy, loose clothes strung everywhere. The blinds are closed and all the lights are off. Any evidence Buck is here is the gigantic mass on the bed. Eddie frowns in worry, before getting to work. He opens up all the blinds and repeatedly pulled the covers off of Buck to force him to get up.

“Dude I have nothing to do today.”

“Nope, you're taking me and Chris, more importantly Chris, somewhere today. Heads up, he’s vetoed the park and laser tag and he’s downstairs. Get changed and start thinking of places to go. I’ll make you something to eat.”

Buck looks at him incredulously. “Eddie, you can’t cook.”

“Yea it’ll probably be toast or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but food is food and you need to eat.”

Eddie watches Buck calmly. Anger, confusion, acceptance and happiness flit across his face. He gives Eddie a smile before turning around. “Okay Eddie. Anything for my favorite Diaz.”

Eddie knows he means Chris, he still leaves the loft with a small smile.

---

The Diaz’s make Buck a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with some strawberries Eddie found in Buck’s fridge. Buck’s in a white shirt and a plain pink button up. His hair is slightly gelled up and any trace of sadness was gone from his eyes. Happily he let Chris pull him to the kitchen table. “Wow this all looks so good buddy, did you make it?”

Chris beamed. “No Dad helped a bit.”

“You coulda convinced me otherwise.”

Chris giggled as Eddie rolled his eyes, “I cut up the strawberries.” Buck made a small noise of understanding before starting to eat. Chris quietly colored beside him. Occasionally he stole Buck’s strawberries. If Buck cared he didn’t comment on it.

“So have you picked where we’re going Buck?” Eddie asked.

“Yes actually, May’s been talking about visiting the Pier with her friends and I figured if it was good enough for her, it’s good enough for us right? You wanna go to the pier buddy?”

“What’s on the pier?”

Buck’s face lit up in a blinding smile. Quickly he starts listing off all the unhealthy snacks sold at the pier. Eddie shakes his head and mock glares at Buck, but he only gets a cheeky grin in response.

“You’re going to give him such a sugar high. Ugh, if you want to do this you have to put him to bed tonight.”

“You’re going to stay with us for the whole day?!” Chris smile could put the sun to shame. He looked eagerly between his father and his Buck.

“Sure Buddy if that’s what you want.” Chris nodded his head so fast he looked like a bobble head.

Buck chuckled, “Okay buddy, I’ll hop you up on sugar then have the pleasure of tucking you in.” Buck sent Eddie a teasing smile, only to receive an eye roll in response.

Once Buck finishes his food, the boys head for Buck’s jeep. They could’ve ridden in Eddie’s truck, but Buck likes driving more than Eddie. Chris’s car seat is transferred to the back of Buck’s jeep and they all pile in. Some top 40s song blares from the radio as they head to their destination.

The wind feels nice in Eddie’s hair. He stares out the window as he listens to Chris and Buck have an animated conversation. Eddie doesn’t really pay attention to it, but it still sounds nice, his son and best friend being happy.

“Will you ride with us Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

“The bumper cars? Do you want to ride on the bumper cars with us?”

“Oh why not. You sure though, I’ll kick your butt.”

Buck squacks offendedly. “As if, I’m a pro at bumper cars Diaz. In fact I should be asking if you’re okay going against me.” Buck flashes him a cocky smile and Eddie gives him a deadpan stare. He’s impossible yet so endearing. Eddie can’t bring himself to hate it, any of it for a second.

----

Going to the pier, Eddie will admit, was a very good choice. The smell of fried food and the noise of the amusement park rides was relaxing. It felt like being back at the state fairs in Texas. Buck and Chris dragged him along to every ride and Eddie went willingly. He doesn’t remember the last time he had so much fun.

Eventually they tired down. Eddie was sitting on a bench next to Buck with a frankly gigantic brown bear on his lap. Chris is watching the surfers surf the waves down below with Buck holding onto his shirt. Eddie let himself relax after spending a whole day running after a child and a golden retriever. When Chris comforted Buck, Eddie snuck a photo of the moment. Buck was smiling sadly up at Chris while Chris held Buck’s chin in his hand. It was so sweet Eddie could’ve gotten a toothache.

He went about saving the photo when Chris started talking again. “Where did all the water go?”

---

So there was a Tsunami in California, and Eddie was in the middle of it. He really can’t have nice things. Immediately Buck grabbed Chris and together they started running off the pier. Man can’t outrun nature though and they were barely halfway across the pier when they got swept away.

---

Buck tightened his hold on Chris as he felt the water slap them around. As much as he wanted to keep Chris with him, he wasn’t stronger than the water. Eventually Buck felt Chris get torn away from him. Debris the tsunami picked up hurtled toward him. He could feel little nicks appear on his arms and legs.

When he finally broke through the surface, he spotted Chris clinging to a pole twenty feet in front of him. Carefully he angled his body so the water would take him to Chris. When he got close enough he leaped and wrapped his arms around Chris. With the same intensity, Chris clung to Buck tightly. It was nice to have proof that Chris was safe. After hearing the little guy cry out for him and Eddie, he wasn’t letting Chris go anytime soon.

For a while the duo was at the mercy of the water, but when Buck spotted a half submerged fire truck, he used his reserved energy to swim towards it. Once there, he lifted Chris onto it and then lifted himself onto it. The whole act hurt his leg, but Buck didn’t voice his pain. Quietly he breathed a sigh of relief. The open air stung his fresh cuts and his soaked clothes clung to him uncomfortably. Chris climbed into his lap and rested his head on Buck’s chest.

“Bucky, where’s my dad?”

Buck sighed, not wanted or knowing how to answer this question. “It appears that we got separated when the wave hit, but that can’t be permanent right buddy? When the water recedes we’ll go search for him okay?” Silently Chris nodded. Buck carded his hand through his curls and let his head gently hit against the truck. He breathed deeply once before getting into action.

“Hey superman, can I give you a quick check-up? I wanna make sure you aren’t too injured.” Chris nodded and Buck went about a modified version of the paramedic check up. (He’s been around Hen and Chimney to know it by heart. He also is a certified EMT.)

“You’re all healthy, kid, just a few cuts but that’s okay. Pretty amazing, I need to know your secrets.” Buck poked Chris’s cheek to make him giggle. He succeeded.

“I had you. You saved me.”

---

Somewhere along the way Eddie got separated. In the water he tried to reach for Chris or Buck, but his hand kept getting smacked by debriefs. He did it enough times that he was sure his wrist was sprained.

When he finally broke free from the waves he couldn’t tell where he was. There were string lights hanging above him and a row of nondescript red buildings. Eddie let himself be dragged along with the waves while he thought of something to do. Buck and Chris weren’t beside him, making him officially alone. He hoped they were still together, the thought of all three of them trying to survive this on their own was enough to puke.

He clutched onto his St. Christopher’s medal as he searched for someplace to grab onto. There were inflatable toys, scraps of metal, and spare tires; but nothing safe to actually hold onto. Eddie tries to groan in frustration, but he ends up swallowing a mouthful of water instead.

After another half-hour he finally sees an awning of a restaurant. He makes his way over and lies down on the awning. He breathes in deeply and lets out a slow breath. He’s safe. He’s safe and alive and all alone. Dread tries to settle in his stomach at the thought of his son. He knows he can’t think like this, but god it’s so easy too. He can only hope that Buck is with Chris, Buck will keep Chris safe.

---

When the water finally recedes, Buck climbs down the truck. The nice lady, Mrs. Violet, hands Buck Chris before climbing down herself. “Stay safe you two. Good bye.” Chris waves goodbye and Buck gives her a megawatt smile. She’s nice company while they were stuck on the truck. Buck hopes they find their husband. He waits to make sure everyone else gets down safely too.

The winds from earlier have died down. The warmth from the midday sun beaming down on him feels nice. His clothes have dried into uncomfortable messes, but it’s fine. He gave his pink button to use a tourniquet for a man with a bloody arm.

Chris tightens his hold on Buck, shifts around to get comfortable, then goes lax in his arms. “You don’t want to be let down buddy?” Chris shakes his head. Buck hmmed in acquiescence .

As an eight year old, Chris is hesitant to let people hold him. He says he’s too old for it now. The first time it happened Eddie called Buck to drink with him. Buck agreed and listened as Eddie complained at how big his kid was getting. The fact that Chris was willing to be held right now meant that he was more scared than he appeared. It made Buck worry and want Eddie. He shouldn’t be here, Eddie needs to be here to console his kid.

Buck hiked up Chris further up his hip then started walking. He didn’t know which way he should go, just hoped wherever he went would lead him to Eddie.

---

Eddie fell asleep. He fell asleep on top of the awning waiting for something to happen. It wasn’t a great sleep, he kept seeing Christopher get torn away from him. Eddie shocked himself awake and took stock of his surroundings. The water was gone, leaving in its wake the debris it swept away. Also dead bodies. If Eddie had anything to puke up he’d be hurling.

Okay, okay, you can’t stay here. You gotta go find your kid. How… Eddie thought. Call someone? Call Buck! Or Bobby or Carla! Hope invigorated him to pull his phone out despite the fact that his wrist was definitely broken. Hope left him when he saw his completely waterlogged phone. Okay Plan A was bust on to Plan B… whatever that was.

The awning was connected to a pole that he could climb down. Best way to find his kid and his best friend was to look for them. Slowly he made his way to an edge of an awning. Then he edged himself off the edge slowly and feet first. Eddie wrapped his feet around the pole and shimmied down.

There were a few stranglers around him, similarly confused and lost. He tried asking them if they’d seen his lost kid or best friend. Unhelpfully they shook their heads no. Eddie sighed and continued walking.

----

Buck’s arms were on fire. His leg was also on fire. He’s pretty sure he was also bleeding something… not good. Holding Chris and walking around for hours in the hot sun hadn’t been kind to him. Buck was still searching for Eddie or a hospital. Finding Eddie was better than finding a hospital, but at this point he’d take either.

Technically he had found two hospitals already, but they were filled to the brink. The wait was astronomical and there was no place to sit. And there was no Eddie. He let a nurse check Chris out and give them some supplies, water and granola bars, before heading out. In hindsight he should’ve also asked for a phone to call someone but he forgot.

Chris had long since passed out in his arms. The kid's soft breaths on his necks was very reassuring. It was part of the reason Buck didn’t want to let him down. Another reason was because he wanted to physically pass Chris off to Eddie. Who is fine. He’s healthy and fit and able to carry his kid when Buck finds him. ‘Cause he will find him, Buck can’t not find him.

Chris shifting in his arm brought Buck back to the present. “Bucky? Bucky, I'm tired.”

“I know superman, you’re okay. I heard there's a new hospital a few blocks from here. They’ll be able to help us.”

“Okay Bucky. Can I have ice cream when we get there?”

“We deserve it don’t we? Still need to ask your dad though buddy.”

“Why? He’s not the boss of you?”

“This is a trick.”

---

After searching for Buck and Chris for five hours (and getting nowhere his evil mind adds) he’s starting to lose hope he can find them on his own. No one has seen a tall man in a pink button up nor a little boy in a yellow striped shirt. Eddie’s poor heart doesn’t know whether or not to implode at that. By now the sun has started setting. The winds aren’t as refreshing as they once were.

As he made his way down another debris filled street, two first responders found him. Eddie resists their attempts at checking him over for any injuries at first. He needs to find his partner and his kid, but he’s also tired. The first responders seem to pick up on this. They promise him that they’ll help him find his kid and partner if he just cooperates. This is how they cajoole him into going to a hospital. With promises of phone calls to his kid and a message passed around to the other first responders that Firefighter Eddie Diaz of the 118 is looking for his partner Evan Buckley and his son Chris Diaz.

This satisfies Eddie a great deal and he then becomes a much better patient. (He’s still grumpy and aloof, but now he’s tolerant). He’s almost fine, acquired a cut on his right arm, broke his left wrist, is dehydrated and exhausted. One of the first responders tosses him a bottle of water on the way to their destination. Eddie finds out when they arrive that it’s a VA hospital set up specifically as a halfway point for the sick and wounded.

The first responders usher him in through the door and into the hands of a nurse. They describe his injuries, and tell her about his missing family. He’d correct them but the statement doesn’t feel wrong anyways. The nurse takes him to a free cot before giving him a check up too.

The first responders hit the nail on the head with his list of injuries. Since it’s not severe he doesn’t need to be transported to the hospital right away, although it is recommended. She leaves to go get him pain meds and once again, Eddie is alone. The people in the cots beside him don’t count. Hell one’s unconscious and the other one is having an intimate looking conversion with a loved one. There are tears, Eddie looks away.

To keep himself busy Eddie makes a to do list of what he needs to do next. Find Christopher. Give him a big hug. Give Buck a big hug. Sleep. Tell people he’s okay. Buy a new phone. Buy ice cream. The last one isn’t technically an emergency but forgive him he’s in pain.

The nurse comes back with a wrap for his wrist and disinfectant and band aids. He finishes his water while she works. The nurse tells him he’s lucky his wound isn’t infected. Eddie nods, mind focused on something else.

“This is awkward, but my phone got damaged in the tsunami and I need to tell some people I’m okay. Is it alright if I borrow your phone and make some calls?”

The nurse smiles and nodds. She gets out her iphone, unlocks it and gets out the phone app. Eddie takes it gingerly and thinks of who to call first. His parents? Ha. He could call his sisters, but if they don’t know then he didn’t want to worry them. He’d call Tia Pepa but she’s probably with Abuela already so calling Abuela’s home phone is the best bet.

She’s calm if not incredibly saddened when she picks up the phone. Abuela lets out a fast stream of spanish that’s said through tears once she realizes its him. He waits patiently for her to finish talking before reassuring her she’s fine. Eddie wants to tell her about Christopher, but he’s worried about Abuela having a heart attack so instead he promises to bring Chris over for lunch tomorrow. He then talks to Tia Pepa for a bit, but there’s not much new to say because Abuela had the phone call on speaker. She thanks god that he’s okay and that he better see her as soon as possible.

When they hang up he immediately calls Bobby. As he waits for him to pick up the phone he gives the nurse a sheepish smile and promises that this is the last call.

“Hello Bobby Nash, who is this?”

“Bobby? It’s Eddie, listen, my phone got damaged in the tsunami. Buck, Chris and I were at the pier and I can’t find them anymore Bobby.”

“Hey, hey, hey, Eddie, you need to breathe. Okay breathe.” Eddie rubs his hand over his eyes as he takes a deep breath.

“Okay Where are you right now.”

“The new VA hospital they set up.”

“Okay I know where that is. I’m going to send out a message to keep an eye out for Buck and Christopher. I’ll also ask Maddie to start calling the hospitals to see if they have Buck. We’re going to find them okay Eddie. Buck’s a fighter, we’re going to find him and Chris.”

“I know Cap it’s just-.”

“Hey Hey, this isn’t your fault, you can’t blame yourself for this. Stay there at the hospital so we know where to send Buck and Chris when we find them.”

“Yeah okay, okay, okay.”

“Okay, are you okay?”

“Umm yeah I’m fine, shallow cut and sprained wrist. I’m fine Cap, it's Buck and Chris.”

“I know that, but I worry about you too. I gotta go, they need me, but take care of yourself okay? Stay safe?”

“Yes sir.” Bobby hung up and Eddie gave the nurse back her phone.

The nurse left almost immediately to tend to other patients. Eddie took a deep breath before taking the next step. He knew someone had to have a list of patients at this hospital somewhere, he just had to figure out who. Eddie got up from his cot to start looking around.

The first few people were a bust. Lady #1 was actually a nurse who just finished tending to a patient. Man #2 was actually an off duty first responder helping out. Lady and Man #3 and #4 were family of some of the victims of the tsumai. Eddie was starting to get frustrated. He needed to find his son and partner quickly. The longer they were out there the more Eddie’s insides turned into knots.

He walked forward towards the entrance and saw a woman with a clipboard. “Hello ma’am is that a list of patients for the VA hospital?”

The woman turned toward him and smiled politely. “Yes it is. Who are you looking for?”

“My son Christopher Diaz. He’s 8 years old and about 4 feet 5 inches tall. He was wearing a yellow striped shirt and khakis. I’m also looking for my partner Evan Buckley. Late twenties 6’2’’ wearing a pink button up, white shirt and some jeans. He has an identifiable birth mark on his right eyebrow that could be mistaken for a burn scar.”

The lady pursed her lips as she scanned through the papers. Eddie tried not to loom or tap his foot as he waited. When her face fell and she frowned he tried not to cry or get violent. “No, I’m sorry sir, I don’t have anyone like that listed here. They could be at another hospital, or,” the lady pointed to a nearby tent, “they could be there.”

Eddie followed his gaze to the place she was pointing at. “The, the-” black trash bags were piled in front of a stark white tent. That could mean it was only one type of place.

“I’m so sorry sir, if your family is actually there.” Eddie barely nodded at her, listlessly making his way over to the tent. Part of him wanted to believe that Buck and Christopher was at another hospital, but if they were, wouldn’t they have been found by someone. Wouldn’t Eddie have tangible proof that they were alive? Tears started streaming down Eddie’s face. His knees started to wobble as he started scanning through the list of the deceased kept just outside the doors of the tent.

---

“Eddie! Has anyone seen an Eddie Diaz?!” A loud voice echoed in the background. Eddie frowned. It sounded a lot like Buck, but he- the lady said he was-

“My name is Evan Buckley, have you seen Edmundo Diaz?” The voice was slightly softer this time. Eddie turned around and almost fell to his knees. There, bathed in the LED lights was his best friend clutching his child in his arms. Eddie sobbed and started running to them.

“Buck! Buck!”

“Eddie?” Buck wanted to run to Eddie, but walking was hard enough. He stayed where he was and let Eddie run into him. It didn’t take long. Buck quickly felt Eddie wrap his arms around both him and Christopher.

It was then in his best friend's arms that Buck finally let the weight of the day catch up to him. His knees buckled and he went boneless in Eddie’s arms. Said man took it like a champ, first he made sure he had a secure hold on Chris, then he let himself sink to the ground with Buck. The younger man rested his back on Eddie’s chest and relaxed. The uncomfortable, burning pressure on his legs and arms was finally eased. Buck made a happy little sigh and burrowed further into Eddie, just as Chris was doing in his sleep. Maybe he should’ve been embarrassed by it but he just spent over five hours slowly losing hope that he would ever find Eddie alive. It would take the fear of God to separate them.

Eddie seemed to have the same idea. The arm that wasn’t around Christopher tightened around Buck’s waist. The younger man could hear his partner murmur prayers in what he thought was spanish. Tears, of what Buck hoped was relief fell from Eddie’s face onto Buck’s shoulder.

“Oh god, oh my god, I thought- I-” Eddie rambled, finding his voice again.

“Hey, hey hey, I’m fine. Me and Chris are all right.”

Eddie made a disbelieving noise. “Okay my leg hurts like a bitch and I probably have one too many cuts, but it’s nothing life threatening.”

“You wouldn’t lie to me?”

“Not after the day I’ve had.”

“In a minute we should get you checked out.”

“Aww you can’t do it for me?” Buck shifted his head slightly to bat his eyes at Eddie.

“No, an unbiased professional should handle you,” Eddie whispered hoping the night sky would hide his blush. Buck nodded and listened to Eddie breathing.

“We’re okay, we’re okay, we’re okay,” Buck whispered, like a mantra. He brought Eddie’s hand up to rest above his heart so Eddie could feel his heart beat. “We’re okay, we’re okay, we’re okay,” Even though Buck actually did need medical help, the trio stayed like that a little while longer, basking in the fact that all three of them were lucky enough to make it out alive and to return to each other.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #911 #911 fox #we're all fic writers here #ella's 911 fox fics

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alch3mic · 4 years

Text

in between. (drabble series)

chapter five (comfort.)

cheshire!sans x gender neutral reader. 3k+ word count.

please be advised for themes of addiction, drugs, alcohol, self deprecating thoughts and apathetic feelings.

* it’s time for our dear underlust sans, cheshire, to have his turn! if you’d like to check out more about our resident catboy, feel free to check out his tag here on my tumblr! thank you and i hope you enjoy!

Don't get attached.

That seems like a pretty simple motto to live by, huh?

Well that's because.... it was.

In a world that cared little for anything beyond their momentary value, it was easy to not get attached. Everything changed day by day in this fast paced life. There was always a new video to look at, or a new phone to buy. Always a new trend to jump on or a new topic to talk about. You didn't form attachments to those things, you just used them to pad out your day so you didn't have to think about your meaningless existence, and then you were done with it.

You got rid of it.

Threw it out.

Forgot about it.

It no longer mattered because it no longer entertained you.

There was always something newer and shinier to look at just around the corner anyways, so.. why would you think twice about it?

Things were just.. easier.. when you didn't get attached...

You.. couldn't feel the pain of being let go.. if there was nothing holding you there in the first place.

.....

A shame he had to learn that the hard way, but that was life.

This world treated it's people like a commodity, always being bought and sold for their looks, money or talents.

Anything else was just worthless.

Filler.

Like packing peanuts that belonged in the garbage after you stripped a box of its goods.

Nobody cared how you felt.

Your emotions didn't matter in the slightest.

All that really mattered is that you played your part.

You spoke your empty words.

You did your flashy dance.

..You sold your soul.

..And then.. you'd collect your earnings and leave so you could go and buy the newest phone model you had your eye on.

.....

Emotions were.. well..

...Worthless.

...Just like they always were..

Just like they had been.. back in his own Underground.

Which is why, on that day..

When that realization set into Sans' bones that the surface really was no different..

That it didn't matter what he did..

Or how he felt..

...He swore to himself...

That he'd never get attached.

......

..And that's exactly why...

He could never forgive you.

Because in a world that was ever changing..

Day by day...

And always moving forward...

..How dare you stay the same.

Ah.. dammit!

Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!

It just wasn't fair..!

Just what the hell was wrong with you anyways?

He went to all that stupid trouble to close all those damn doors!

He boarded up every stupid window and stuffed everything shut as tightly as he could!

He gathered up all those loose emotions, tied them with a lock and a chain, and then threw them into the basement to never see the damn light of day again!

He even threw away the damn key to it all and yet...!

..And yet...

Somehow.. someway.. you still..

Weaseled your way right into his soul.

....

It just wasn't fair.

...He hated it.

..Or.. rather.. himself.

Because despite the fact that you were the one who did this, even after his multiple attempts to shove you away.... he could never say he actually hated you.

....

Maybe jokingly but..

No.. he could never actually hate you..

Despite how hard he tried.

You were just so damn.. persistent.

Not even in the annoying way! You were just..! Always there!

Really..

How dare you.. become someone that meant something to him!

How dare become a pillar of support for him to lean on!

How dare you open your arms to him, offering your gentle words and affirmations to him like he deserved them or something, and letting yourself become such a comfort that he actually sought you out now to help mend these pieces of his broken soul.

....

H-how dare you..

...Always be there for him.

Time and time again you were.. just..!

There!

You were always there!

Why were you always there!?

Christ, it's like you really had nothing better to do!

What, was he just your entertainment!?

A cute little show!?

Did you just want a front row seat to how much of a mess he really was because you were that bored!? Is that why you were always there!? Is that why you always picked up the phone when he called, no matter the starsdamned hour of the day? Is that why you were always there... no matter how far it was..? ..Rain or shine.. snow, hail or even when the damn wind was blowing nearly everything off its feet you were..

You were.. always..

....

There.

And that was just so damn unforgivable.

.....

There were times when he wished to himself.. that you had always been there.

...Way before.. he became like this.

Maybe he wouldn't have been such a mess if he had you in the first place but..

Life just wasn't fair, now was it?

He wanted to be angry about it still.

To blame you.

But he couldn't.

Really all he had to blame was himself.

He.. betrayed his own promise.

He had sworn to himself on that day that he'd never get attached.. and yet here he was.. more dependent upon you than he had been for anyone else in his life.

..Even to his own brother.. who had really seen him at some real bad lows.

But you..

You saw him at rock bottom.. and yet..

...You were still here...

.....

Really, you were by all accounts, an anomaly.

An outlier.

Someone who shouldn't be counted with the rest, because unlike the usual scum of this city.. you were...

Well you certainly weren't a ray of sunshine, that's for sure.

A little stoic and kinda stone faced, which probably worked to your benefit because people seemed to shy away from asking things of you, but..

You were.. different.

Despite the fact that you grew up here in Ebott, a vile city filled to the brim with criminals and thieves who ate people up for breakfast and then spat them out before lunch.. you.. were.. still you.

Calm.

Insightful.

...Caring..

..And... dependable.

....

...And how...

How was he not supposed to get attached to you?

..When you were always there for him..

Like now, as you held him steadily in your arms while he so desperately clung on to you as if you'd run away if he let you go. Of course a part of him was always scared you would because.. why wouldn't you?

What could someone like you possibly see in someone like him..?

Someone.. shallow and.. terrible with a whole novel's worth of issues.

Not at all good at comforting people.

Fickle and who practically ran at the first signs of trouble.

If he were you..

Well.. he would've given up on himself a long time ago.

..So.. why did you.. stay..?

.....

He was too scared to ask that question.

Too scared of the answer that may come from your lips, even though those words might just save him...

..Because he was absolutely certain that they'd actually just be the final nail that turns him to dust..

So he pushed the thought far from his mind to the back to die with the rest of his unnecessary feelings. Not that it was hard really, Sans' mind was a bloody fucking mess, clouded by a horrid mixture of alcohol and drugs that had him feeling on top of the world just a measly few hours ago.

Stars.. it really was easy to get lost in that madness wasn't it?

..Into the pleasure and fun that came at the end of a bottle, or at the end of another hit.

In a way.... it was just like magic.

In an instant, all those troubles that clouded your mind would seem so far away...

For a while you'd be unburdened by responsibility or society.

You'd let go of the constraints holding you back, you'd let loose and finally just be free.

Your mind would let go of it's troubling thoughts..

Of things... and...

..People...

......

You'd have fun without stress.

You'd lose yourself to the motions

To movements.

To the descent.

..To the fall.

Down.

Down the rabbit hole you'd go.

....

But with every fall.

Came a landing.

....

Right to the very bottom... and you'd suffer the consequences of your descent.

Now that once hypnotic neon that drew him into this club seemed sickening to his eyesockets, and the smell of smoke mixed with sweat and grease made him want to hurl. He didn't want to hear anymore words spoken by anyone else, much less those so called 'friends' who invited him here in the first place. Their words had long faded away to numbing static in the background now that the intense music was gone. He was sick of their empty flattery and jealous praises anyways, all trying to catch his attention so they could use him as a footstool to higher society. The only reason they invited him here was to get some damn clout for themselves and he was lonely enough to accept the offer because...

For once, you weren't there.

.....

Well you were technically there, because you always told him to call if he ever needed you, you just weren't like... there there!

..And he was feeling sad and...!

You weren't.. well-!

It's just-! He.. just-!

....

He didn't want to...

.....

Ugh.

It didn't matter.

He was just tired of it now. Tired of those damn pieces of trash..

They deserved to sit in the dumpster where they belong, but he was too fucked up to put them there so instead he just let it become background noise.

He wanted nothing more than to stay right here, in the only place he really felt at ease.

..With you.

So he turned his head away from it all and breathed in deep, a familiar scent washing away the muck that clung to the edges of his mind. It was fresh and a bit misty, like the scent of rain just before it fell with just a small hint of earthiness, and it brought him such a sense of..

..Comfort.

Just... like it always did.

Just like you always did, whenever you were around.

It made him clutch on to you all the tighter as he buried his head further into your shoulder, wanting to be lost in the mellow scents of your coat and the steady rhythmic beating of your heart as you spoke softly to someone else.

He was just..

Tired.

Tired of this, and tired of that.

Really he was tired of everything and just wanted to.. go..

"...home," he slurred, clearly interrupting your conversation with someone but not having the slightest care in the world.

His skull could hardly make sense of what was being said anyways, still washed up in the dizzying effects of alcohol and.. whatever else he took, but he really didn't care.

He wanted to go home.

That's why he had messaged you in the first place.

So you could come pick him up, yet again, and take him back home.

At least.. he hoped that's why you were here.

Who knows, maybe you'd finally come to your senses and would just dunk him in the trash can where he belonged.

"We're heading out in just a second, alright?" you said gently, your words cutting clear through his own thoughts.

.....

He barely turned his head to peek at you, catching the vague shape of your face through the fluorescent neon.

Funny.. how just your tone settled his troubled mind, almost making him feel silly for thinking you'd abandon him. Even if he didn't understand why in the slightest, you clearly cared for him. It came through in the way you spoke, and in the way you held on to him, like he was something precious and worth keeping.

...He just really didn't get it..

So he didn't think about it, instead just squeezing his eyesockets and letting out.. a noise in response.

..Really it was more like a painful, almost guttural groan, but he didn't want to acknowledge how unattractive it sounded, so a noise it was.

Thankfully it was enough.

"Just hang tight."

And then you spoke again, but not to him, so he let your voice fall to the side too, the gentle rumblings steadying him as he buried his face back to his usual spot.

For right here, in the small space between your neck and your shoulder was his own personal Wonderland. It was the same place his skull always went, whenever you two were close. The place he buried his face when he cried, or where he turned his head away to escape from it all. He loved to feel the pleasant heat of your skin against his cheek, and let those soft and subtle scents wash over him once more.

He really could just.. get lost in it.

He'd stay there forever, if you'd let him.

And that's exactly why he could never forgive you.

Because.. you did.

Time and time again you gave him that place all to himself, without question or complaint.

You let him come undone in so many ways in that small space, that house he had built for himself and boarded up.. no longer felt like home.

..And the feelings that he had locked away tight..

They were always so close to just.. coming out.

They threatened to spill from his mouth and dirty your jacket with their sullied words.

His admiration.

His respect.

His... love... for you..

..And all that you've done.

They danced tantalizingly on the end of his tongue, sometimes escaping in the friendly ‘I love you’s you both shared, or passed through his fingertips when your hands gently brushed, sending shocks to his soul. They seeped into almost every action and he..

Well..

A part of him felt like he was going to just go crazy over it..!

Or maybe.. he always had...

But for every moment he stayed in your presence it lingered..

And it swished and swirled... bubbling at the surface and just threatening to...

Break.. loose..!

"You doing okay?"

No.

No, he really wasn't doing okay.

Really he wasn't.

The words.. they were...

Slipping...

No...

He was...!

..Going to..!

"....i think i'm going to throw up."

"...Ah."

......

He probably would've been angrier if that wasn't the truth.

The excess magic bubbling in his soul was threatening to rush out thanks to the alcohol, and he certainly didn't want that spilling out of his ribcage so the only other option was out from where it came.

"Can you hold it?"

Ya know, normally that kind of question might've been seen as insensitive given the circumstance, but you very well knew Sans hated throwing up in public areas because it was... well kinda gross.

"..yeah.."

"Then let's go home."

And that was it.

You looked back to whomever you were speaking to and said your goodbyes before turning and heading out of the club with him in your arms while he tried to cling to you like a koala.

The awful neon was fading away along with the horrid smells, leaving him in just the gentle presence of you..

At least until you opened the door to the outside world the city lights and smells hit him like a fucking truck. He cringed, for even in the late hour the lights were in full shine and cars honked aggressively at each other in the streets. It was overwhelming and only made him retreat farther into arms, trying to escape from it.

Oh great, here comes the nausea again.

He groaned and you thankfully put a bit more pep in your step as you headed into the musky night air, finally reaching your car after what felt like a small eternity.

He had felt the keys already in your hand when you picked him up, and now you carefully tried to unlock the car door while maintaining your hold. It was surely a fairly easy task, considering the two of you had been in this exact position so many times before, and it wasn't long before you opened the door and tried to place him into the passenger seat.

"...You know you gotta let go so we can go home."

".....no."

He could feel your breathy laugh brush past his skull and neck, nearly making him tremble, but he still held on tight.

Sans just didn't want to let you go.

"..Please?"

.........

He.. reluctantly released his grasp, slowly sliding into the seat as he already began missing your warmth. His eyes automatically slipped shut, feeling more relaxed in the familiar space of your car. The passenger side seat was still just how he left it, tilted back just enough so he could nap comfortably.

"Just a sec."

"...mmmhh."

At least it was a more attractive sound this time.

Then he waited.. for what felt like another small eternity, almost tempted to brave the bright world to look at you before he was joined by a pleasant warmth, and the soft scents of rain and earth.

You laid your jacket on him, and he quickly hugged on to it while you busied yourself with buckling him in. Another easy task, as he heard the click of the seatbelt in place, and felt your presence leave him once more. He barely cracking his eyesockets open to catch your gaze, and for the briefest of moments he was greeted by your smile

"Was it fun?"

"...no.."

You let out a snort, shaking your head at his bluntness before standing up closing the door.

One last small eternity later and you opened up the driver side door, seating yourself before buckling yourself in.

"If I remember correctly you didn't have fun the last time you went out with her either, so why go?" you asked, turning the key and starting your car.

There was no judgement in your tone, more like a genuine curiosity. Surely it must've seemed dumb to keep torturing yourself in the presence of people you didn't like.. but..

"i'unno..." he muttered.

He was lonely.

"..jus didn' have anythin' else...since you were gone.."

There was a small pause as he watched your brows furrow, but you kept your gaze ahead as you pulled out of the parking lot and into the busy streets of Ebott.

"Well I did invite you," you reminded him and he let a small huff.

"i didn' wanna... intrude.. on your.. family... whatever."

"You know my mom wouldn't mind."

"...i know.."

Urgh.

Darn that woman for being almost as equally likeable as you were.

Really.. at first he could hardly believe the two of you were related with how bright and cheerful your mother was compared to your rather indifferent demeanor, but you both had that same tenderness that shone through in the way you cared for people.

...She always made him feel so welcome anytime he came around.

Like family..

....

And yet...

He didn't want to sully such a happy image with someone like himself.

So instead of joining you for an evening of board games and home cooked meals with your mom, he filled his meaningless life with people who were just as meaningless. He stuffed that empty skull of his with hollow praises, and anything that'd take these vile feelings away.

He didn't deserve this.

He didn't deserve.. you.

He deserved to be used up.

Thrown out.

And forgotten.

..Just like the rest of the people like him..

So... why did you refuse to let him go?

....

Once again he was too scared to ask.

Too scared of the answer he might receive, even if there was a possibility that it could save him. He just wanted to keep holding onto this. On to you, in hopes that you'd still just always be there for him.

Just like.. you always were.

....

He let out another huff, feeling those words threatening to spill forth again as he clutched on to your jacket. His hand wandered over to the same place it always did when he felt like shit but couldn't say it, to the middle console where it waited patiently.

His patience was rewarded, one small eternity later, when he felt your hand gently settle over his.

There was nothing more he could do to keep the words from spilling forth.

"i love you..."

And he meant it, with every fiber of his soul.

"I love you too Sans."

..Not in the same way, he knew, but...

This was still just enough.

Enough to keep him here.

Enough to keep him going, with the hope that maybe some day.. you would really love him too, in the same ways that he loved you.

#it's real sad boi hours #luckily he always has you #cheshire!sans #sans #undertale #underlust #lust sans #undertale fic #long post #fic #fanfic #alchohol tw #drugs tw #drabble #alch!writes #inbetween!fic #one left!

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seijuurouxryuu · 3 years

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Title: I am you, and you are I Author: Shiro (TeitoxAkashi [AO3]/ seijuurouxryuu [tumblr]) Rating: T Pairing: Kozarto Enma/ Sawada Tsunayoshi; Giotto/ Cozarto Event: @khrrarepairweek Prompts: Mistaken Identity AU | Courting Tags/Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warning, Graphic Depiction of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warning

Day 1: Storm Day

AO3

The sky was dark, clouds heavy and looming as it brought the lightnings and thunders that flashed and roared. Bright and loud, both blinding eyes and rattling bones, created a cacophony for the harsh rain that came down as though in anger and grief. As if they were the tears of heaven as heaven abandoned their beloved child.

With the storm raging above, a cloaked being rushed through the forest, soaked from head to toe and panting from fatigue of running for hours on. Traces of blood trialled behind, mixing with the soft mud that got kicked up by the boots. One step wrong and the being slipped hard, slamming to the group. The being hissed, pained by the fall but clambered up and continued running despite limping in pain, more blood soaking through the already dirty cloak.

The being could not stop running because once stopped, death will arrive.

Beyond anyone's knowledge, a tear dripped down the being's face and disappeared with the raindrops.

In all the years of Tsuna's life, he had never expected that one day, he would find a child bundled in long, dirty cloak right in front of his humble abode. Mouth opened in mid yawn, Tsuna stared at the body with bulging eyes. He blinked once, twice, thrice, and to his horror, the child was still there. Mouth clamming close, he slowly crouched down a good meter away, and stared intensely at the pale dirty cheek peeking out from the cloak. It seemed bloodless, but to Tsuna's relief, they were moving slightly from the shallow breathing. He sighed and hung his head.

If only the child was dead, he would not be in such a dilemma. He could have just buried the child and forget as time rolls by. But the humane piece of him that was dormant for years woke up, beyond happy to know that a young life was not lost.

Tsuna stood and pulled the sleeves of his robes up slightly. He reached over and carefully lifted the seemingly weightless child up, gently holding the child close to his body. Cold, he noted. The child was shivering and feverish all at the same time. Injured too, Tsuna deduced from the strong smell of iron mixed with the smell of rain and mud. Ignoring how dirtied his previously white robes were, he turned back into his small wooden shed.

He paused for a moment and turned, side glancing to the edges of his barrier, through the boundaries that separated him from humanity, his eyes flashed bright orange.

The ghastly death dissipated unreconciled.

His door closed shut with a quiet click behind him.

It was only ten days later that the child woke up, much to Tsuna's relief. He almost had to visit his own friend for advice, which he definitely did not want to, if not for realizing that the child's wound was healing up without any external aids. He was out finding fruits and nuts when the child's eyes opened.

Blood red eyes dazed for a moment at the sight of wooden roof. The child's breath slowed down quietly in alarm as eyes shifted around to take in any possible danger and any escape route. Moments later, the child realized that there was no one else around, and that it was as safe as it can be, the held breath was let out in a gentle, relieved sigh.

The child slowly sat up and glanced at the warm, thick covers that slid down. It was comfortable, the child felt, despite just waking up. Intuitively, the child thought that the owner must be a warm and kind person, having to take in a stranger and lend their bed. Reluctantly, the covers was pulled off but before it was truly away, the child was stunned in place at the tiny pair of hands.

"What?!"

And Tsuna came back to the sight of the child hugging the mirror tightly, staring into the reflection in horror.

Not particularly surprised at the reaction, Tsuna put away his haul onto the dining table and tilted his head at the child. "You're awake." He stated, smiling. He found it rather amusing at the sight of incredulous thoughts fleeting through those pair of muddy red eyes. He pointed over to the table beside the bed and said, "Your clothes are there, but I doubt that they would fit you now."

Yes, Tsuna knew that the child was not really a child, but a child-sized adult. He speculated that either the other's body was too heavily wounded that it transformed into a smaller and easier body to heal, or that it was a curse. It could be anything, honestly, and Tsuna wouldn't know because his senses were sealed, unfortunately.

"What did you do to me?" Tsuna almost laughed out loud at the horror that took over the chubby face at the squeaky voice. It was hilarious, and Tsuna had not seen anything funny in years.

"I did nothing. When I found you, you were already like this."

Truth.

Muddy red eyes narrowed. Lips pursed and those tiny hands clenched the mirror tightly, almost shattering it if not for the warning creak. Tsuna watched as the other put down the mirror back to where it was on the shelves and thought things through. It wasn't hard not to understand what was going on, and neither was it easy to accept it.

"I... Thank you for saving me, I owe you one." A grimace at the squeaky voice, but it was steady and full of convince. "I really should not impose you any further but, as you can see, I am not in my best state. So, can I shamefully bother you for a little longer? If it is not possible, then--"

"Sure."

"I--I'm sorry?"

Tsuna smiled, the corner of his eyes crinkling. "You can stay a little bit longer. After all, it has been far too boring recently so a company is still better than none. Of course, it wouldn't be a free stay. You'll have to help out with chores. What do you say?"

Delighted, the child-adult nodded. "Yes! Thank you very much! Once I recover, I will be sure to repay the favour!"

Tsuna waved it off carelessly. "We can talk about that after." He walked closer and reached out his right hand. "I'm Tsuna, you?"

Tinier hand touched his and shook it. "Enma." Enma smiled. "I'm Enma."

A month later, Enma was still in child form.

Depressed by the lack of changes despite being fully healed, Enma sighed gloomily as he stirred the stew he was making. For a month living with Tsuna, he realized that Tsuna was really, really bad with taking care of himself. He would only eat raw fruits and vegetables, meat being out of the picture since he sucked at catching live animals. He could not cook so much without hurting himself too, which Enma always found painful to look at. Two days into cohabitating and Tsuna burnt his own hand trying to cook congee, Enma decided to took it to his own hand and cook.

Despite his smaller stature now, he was very familiar with cooking. After all, he had been doing it for years. Mami always liked his cooking, so he wasn't afraid of accidentally poisoning his benefactor. In fact, cooking was one of the things that Enma loved doing. It was a stress reliever. And he missed doing it after... After that time.

Nostalgia flooding his muddy red eyes, Enma unconsciously smiled at the memories of his younger sister. He missed her.

Stuck in his memories, Enma failed to realize Tsuna's presence when the other snuck up to him. It was only when a shadow loomed over him with an eager 'Oooh' from his back that he snapped out of it. Jumped, he turned around and looked up at Tsuna with a surprised face.

"You're back! I thought you said that you would be back in late evening!" Tsuna had went out early in the morning, saying that he had to check on the barriers around the forest. He said that the storm previously might have ruined parts of the fences and he wanted to repair it before any feral animal barges in. Honestly, Enma doubted the existence of a fence that spanned almost half the forest as how Tsuna had described. Even if he couldn't recall everything that happened the night he found Tsuna's shed, he knew he didn't come across any form of barrier, much less a fence.

Still, everyone has their own secret, thus Enma did not question him and nodded.

Tsuna hummed at that, still savouring the delicious smell of stew. "Well, thankfully there's no damage this time so I came back early. And look at what I found at the other side!" He grinned as he showed Enma a piglet's corpse.

"It was dead when I found it and it’s a waste to just bury it so, why not eat it? As a thank for mother nature for the feast."

Enma was amused, clearly, but his muddy red eyes were shining brightly at the thought of meat after so long. He missed eating meat. "So your idea of repaying mother nature is eating its creations?"

"Of course, eating is appreciating."

Enma laughed and shook his head exasperatedly. He nodded nonetheless. "Fine, fine. Help me out then, I can't exactly carry it with these miserable tiny hands."

Enma hated how small they were, ugh.

Tsuna snickered. He, albeit clumsily, helped carrying the piglet onto the chopping board and listened to Enma's instructions on dealing with it.

Despite joking around while helping out, the piglet was dealt with and cooked properly in an hour's time. Tsuna's mouth was watering by the time Enma plated it.

Hopping down the steps, Enma washed his hands, sat down opposite of Tsuna by the dining table and said, "Bon appetit." He smiled when Tsuna immediately dugged in and moaned at how delicious and how long he had had abstained from meat just because he can't catch one himself.

Enma found him so cute.

Honestly, he really shouldn't be having any good feelings for a practical stranger despite the other being his saviour and all. Who knows what he really wanted to do to Enma, but he couldn't help it. After all, they had only known each other for about a month, and neither knew much about one another other than their name, who can or can't cook, Tsuna loving to laze under the sun, Tsuna occasionally telling him about the myths of the forest, Tsuna checking if he was healing up well with worried face, stupidly strong Tsuna, Tsuna smiling at him...

That was beside the point. That was all besides the point.

Enma really, really shouldn't develop anymore attachment towards him. After all, once he was back to his original form, he would have to leave, right? Tsuna did let him stay because he was in a child form right now, and Tsuna was so sweet and soft and concerned about letting him go off like this. 'Tsuna...' Enma's muddy red eyes softened at how happy the brown hair man was, glinting slightly under the light.

Tsuna lifted his head from his plate when he finally realized that Enma had not started eating, and blinked curiously. He tilted his head and asked, "Are you not eating, Enma?"

Enma snapped out of his trance and coughed into his hands. "I am, I am." His voice cracked a little, but he feigned ignorant as he tried to be as casual as possible while eating. Gears running in his mind, he desperately looked for a change of topic. "By the way, do you mind if I ask how long you have been living here?"

It was a genuine question, so he managed to turn the attention around. He had been wondering about it for quite some time now. The shed was very deep into the forest, far, far away from civilization. Too far, actually, that a trip down to the nearest village at the edge of the forest would take a day and a half. Although Enma knew some people can live in seclusion away from others, it would rather be difficult to do so. If any consumables such as ink, parchment for letters, candles, or even clothes, were to run out or spoil, would not it be inconvenient to restock them? Granted, so far, it seemed that there was never a lacking of these items even though Enma was sure that there was no store room to hoard them.

Not to mention, judging from how old and well lived in this shed was, he doubted that Tsuna lived here for a mere year or three.

Tsuna hummed at the question and shook his head. "I don't mind. It has been..." He frowned, mentally calculating the years he spent alone. In the end, he shook his head again. "Too long, I don't remember anymore."

Enma's heart lurched, but his face remained unchanged. He had some speculations, but neither of it seemed valid. "I see," He did not pry further. "Then are there anyone else living in the forest? Sounds a little bit lonely if you are the only one."

"Oh! There are. My m-- friends. They're around. Somewhere. In the forest. Well, they rarely come visit because they are busy with their duties but they live near enough for me to get to them if I have an emergency." Tsuna explained, but he did not provide the full details. Rather, he couldn't. After all, none of his friends settle around for more than two to three days, and they could easily disappear for almost half a decade without contact. It was true that if Tsuna had an emergency that needed their help, he could find them easily though.

"I see. That's good. I'd be very worried if there isn't anyone."

"Why?" Tsuna did not understand, but Enma's face started to flush and he started to stammer. "W-w-well--"

'I would be very concerned if you're alone every day once I leave. I would be wondering if you have eaten properly, if you have slept well, if you have smiled. I would be wondering if you missed me, if you feel lonely, if I can be with you to chase away that darkness. I...'

The loud sound of impact that resonated from the middle of the forest saved Enma from actually answering. Breathing out a sigh of relief, Enma looked out of the window and saw a flock of birds flying away, squawking in a way that sounded like fear.

He frowned, wondering if something bad happened. The tip of his fingers tingled.

With him turned away from Tsuna, he missed how Tsuna scowled and how his eyes turned bright orange from the usual brown.

"I'll go check." Tsuna announced, eyes turned normal again as he smiled. He pushed himself off the chair as Enma turned to him with a surprised look. "That sounds dangerous." Enma wanted to follow, but he knew that with how he was, he would be more of a burden than help. Still, he didn't want Tsuna to go. Not when he didn't know if it’s truly dangerous.

Tsuna smiled. "Don't worry." He said, petting Enma's on his head, something that Enma liked yet find it irksome because that meant Tsuna took him as a real child. Tsuna did not realize the changes and walked over to a small cabinet beside the sink, pulling out a pair of worn-out mittens and a dagger. There were engravings on the handle, but Enma was too far to clearly see what it was. Tsuna wore a cloaked and kept it by the time he walked back to Enma.

"I'm strong, you know it." Enma does. He knew. For a man that is slightly shorter than his own height, Tsuna's strength was actually stronger than his by a degree. (He did not want to remember the time Tsuna one handily pushed the heavy wardrobe full of clothes away just to reach for something that had fallen behind it like the wardrobe weighed nothing. Nope. He definitely did not want Tsuna to use his strength on him as well. Definitely nope.)

"But still..."

Tsuna grinned. "I'll be back faster than you'd think!"

"... Alright, stay safe!"

Tsuna paused a moment, figure softened at that. It had been so long since he last heard people wishing for his safety, he couldn't help but cherish it for a moment longer. "Hmn!"

Enma watched the door close shut and sighed.

"He will be alright..." He whispered to himself.

They did not talk about what happened when Tsuna came back bloodied yet uninjured. Enma wanted to ask, but Tsuna skirted around the topic and Enma stopped. He told himself, as long as Tsuna was uninjured and safe.

He asked whose blood it was that had stained Tsuna's cloak and mittens, however, as he watched the other wash away the blood stain in a very practiced manner.

"Oh, it was a deer's blood. Poor thing had stabbed herself with a protruding branch." Tsuna offhandedly replied.

Enma was suspicious. "A deer's blood."

"Yep!" Tsuna cheerily replied.

Enma did not believe that, because for all he knew, he smelled the stench of human on Tsuna.

He kept quiet.

(When he had fallen into deep slumber that night, Tsuna was still awake. Sitting on the roof with the will-o'-wisps whispering into his ears, he sighed.

"Not yet." He whispered, archaic and foreign. "Not yet."

The will-o'-wisps burned indignantly.)

Three and a half months later, Enma could not wait any longer. He was clearly all good, and that his power was still with him. It did not disappear nor did it weaken. In fact, the capacity increased, his power strengthened. He could feel things more vividly, like how the world shift and ground tremble. He was stronger than ever, and yet he was still in a child form.

Honestly, Enma wanted to stay longer, but he could not, not when his mission was incomplete still, not when his family and friends were still waiting for him. He had thought of it; he wanted to bring Tsuna along, wanted to introduce him to his family so that Tsuna would no longer be lonely.

He did not want Tsuna hide that sad look whenever he thought Enma was not watching.

But Enma couldn't. With his mission, with the safety of his family and friends, with his own secrets... He couldn't. He couldn't bring Tsuna even if he wanted to. (Not to mention, that incident did not happen just once and every time Tsuna settled it, he would always bring home the smell of human and blood that was not his nor an animal's.)

Enma's heart was in pieces as he tore himself to make a decision.

"Tsuna," He began, looking straight at Tsuna's eyes. They were sunbathing by a river near the shed and Tsuna was lying beside him with his arms as pillow like a content cat. Making a sound to acknowledge Enma's call, Tsuna squinted his eyes at Enma, light from the sun blinding him momentarily. "What's wrong?"

"... I think it's time I contact my comrades."

Tsuna blinked once, twice, and 'oh'-ed. He sat up and looked at Enma carefully. He nodded, hiding the reluctance and unwillingness in him. "Yes... Yes, it's probably time. They are most likely worried sick about you."

"...Yes." Enma found that Tsuna was being weird. "They most likely are."

Sighing inaudibly, Tsuna dropped the eye contact and stared at the ground, legs crossed as he ran a finger over the grass. "How--How are you going to get in touch with them? Anything I can help you with?"

Enma pursed his lips and shook his head. "No, I... I will leave this evening and reach out to them."

"Oh." Tsuna said again.

"I'm sorry."

"No, no. It's okay! I understand, really! I-- well, I guess this is it?"

"Hmn. I will definitely repay you for your kindness someday."

"Oh, you don't have to, really." Tsuna laughed awkwardly. "I mean, you already repaid me with the delicious meals you cooked every day and the company. I really appreciate that, you know? I--it's been a long time since I... I had company."

Enma's heart hurt. It hurt to see how Tsuna closed himself off so suddenly, but he couldn't say anything more. He couldn't comfort him while he was the cause and that he was the one who wanted to leave. If he did comfort Tsuna, he knew it would bring the latter more pain than before.

Anymore, and Enma could never leave anymore.

However, Enma couldn't help but blurt out one thing: "I liked accompanying you too."

Tsuna smiled sadly.

"Well, when?"

"In a bit." Tsuna nodded. "Alright. Alright. I guess I won't be sending you off?"

"Hmn."

"Then," Tsuna turned to him with a grin. "Thank you, Enma. I hope your future endeavors go smoothly." He reached out his right hand. Enma's eyes softened, muddy red brightening slightly. "Thank you, Tsuna." He said too, grabbed the hand and shook it firmly. "For everything. I will find a way to repay you soon."

Tsuna waved him off with that. "Like I said, you don't need to." He seemed a little sad. "You can't even if you want to, anyway..." He whispered beneath his breath, so low that Enma couldn't catch it properly.

Enma did not say, but he would really do as he say, he would soon figure out a way to repay Tsuna. Definitely after his mission, of course. He stood up from the ground and patted away the dust and dirt. "Take care, Tsuna."

"Hmn."

Tsuna pointed off into a distance and said, “That way, it’s safer.”

“Thank you.” Enma bowed one last time and turned, leaving without turning around and looking at Tsuna one last time.

Glows of fairies chattered angrily beside Tsuna’s ears as he watched Enma’s back disappear into the forest, some even kicked him on his arm. It didn’t hurt, of course, and he paid no heed to their anxiety until he was sure Enma had disappeared from sight.

“No.” He flicked one of them off his head gently. “Don’t hurt him.” He sighed once again and lied back down. His eyes were closed, hiding the blazing orange under the thin skin. “Anyone who dares to touch him, you know what I will do to you later.”

Shadows all over the forest scattered back into their hiding spots as the threat resonated into their soul, planting fear in them. The fairies flew away too, leaving Tsuna alone beside the river.

Quiet, at last.

Tsuna thought.

‘Too quiet.’

“What the fuck happened to you, Enma?!”

Enma regretted immediately that he had reached out to Aoba instead of Adelheid. Aoba’s eyes were literally bulging out as he tried to make sense of Enma’s form like Enma is some sort of specimen. It made him uncomfortable, but he had no choice. Aoba was the only one who is the most sensitive towards nature than the others; others may not necessarily sense his call but as long as Enma uses his power on one of the nature’s vein, Aoba can sense it immediately. Adelheid is sensitive enough towards his power that she could do it herself, but her strength in that regard was not as good.

And since Enma did not know his exact location, he could only count on Aoba. At least it wasn’t Shitt. P. He didn’t want to be taken as a specimen for her various weird experiments.

“Don’t ask.”

“Well, I already did.” Aoba sassed as he poked Enma’s chubby cheeks. “You looked exactly like how you were young, did you regress?”

“I’ve no idea.” Enma was on wits ends by the prods and swatted the next attack harshly. He usually wouldn’t be so harsh with his friend, but being in such a tiny body did strange works on his temper. Plus, he was in a bad mood from parting with Tsuna.

“Adel will shit her pants…”

“She will kill you if you don’t bring us back, Koyo.”

“Shit, you’re right. Let’s go.”

Enma grabbed Aoba’s hands and finally turned back to look at the forest one last time. His eyes glowed bloody red as he and Aoba disappeared with a gush.

When the wind settled, the shadows popped out and whispered to each other, hushed and frantic. Each and every one of the creatures questioned their lord’s decision, but none had the courage to find him. Their lord was still in foul mood after all. Despite his gentle temperament, his rage was not something they weak followers could handle.

Without a solution, they could all only dissipate silently and wait for their lord’s next move.

After a series of arguments and laughter from his friends and family, they finally came to a conclusion that Enma was cursed by the forest’s guardians, and it was far too archaic for them to break. It was not strong, but it was strange and none of them knew if anything would happen to Enma if they forcefully break it.

Adelheid was pacing around the room, muttering to herself as she tried to figure out a way to break it without any whiplash. Julie watched from the side while Shitt. P and Ooyama flustered around Enma. Well, Ooyama was flustered, Shitt. P was just prodding and poking while asking series of questions that Enma couldn’t even understand.

“It doesn’t make sense… That forest had been deserted for years, and none of the guardians there are strong enough to put such complicated curse on Enma.”

“Maybe all of the creatures there banded together to do it?” Kaoru quietly voiced out, to which Adelheid shook his head.

“No, impossible. Even though it’s no strong, the amount of spiritual energy that has to be put into use is far more than all the creatures could every contribute. Not to mention it was far to complex that any little disturbance would render it useless.”

“Then what do you think?” Julie drawled lazily, but his eyes were particularly focused. “What do you think could have been the one who put such a curse on Enma? It’s not even a dangerous one other than putting him in a child form.”

Adelheid’s steps paused. Her head raised and she looked at Enma with an incredulous yet anxious look.

“No… It wasn’t intended to harm Enma… The coronation—” Adelheid gasped. “The coronation! Enma can’t possibly be crowned if he’s in this stead! No one would allow it, much less those that still oppose the Shimon!” She bit her finger nail, eyes flitting as she tried to figure out the culprit. Who, exactly? Who had such grudge with the Shimon? And with archaic knowledge at that?

Remembering all the names of those that opposed their rise since the last generation, Adelheid’s mind halted at a particular name, one that she had not remembered for a long, long time. “… The Vongola?”

Julie scowled at the name as the others all fell silent, listening carefully.

“They had been annihilated for so long, what makes you think the old skies would hurt us? Not to mention, it hadn’t been us who killed most of them all. It was the previous generations that they should have a grudge with, not us.”

“Yes, which is why they did not harm Enma, but rather cursed him into such state! They were probably trying to stop the coronation ceremony from happening, so they could counter attack.” Adelheid ruffled her hair, frustrated. “Shit, they really did used their advantage! With how their historical records burnt down during the siege, no one knows how their powers were passed down and used! No one knows how to break them either! Once they achieve their goal, we’d all be dead!”

Julie fell silent in a thoughtful manner. Enma pursed his lips. “I don’t think they really wanted to kill us…” Adelheid gave Enma a hard look as his voice faltered.

“Did you not remember the history? Did you not remember how bloodied the siege went? All except the four children survived! And these children were banished down to purgatory without anything else but their clothes behind their back! Even if we were not the one who did it, those kids, would they not harbour the grudges of the death of their loved ones? Would they not desire for revenge? And since the previous generation has passed, would they not transfer their hatred to us, just like how we did to the Varia back then?”

Enma did not reply. He knew that that was the most likely explanation. Vongola and Shimon had long broken apart from one another that the tangled wires of misunderstanding and hatred could no longer be separated.

It hadn’t been like that; Vongola and Shimon were once allies, and their leaders were once best friends. Vongola ruled the skies, while Shimon ruled the lands and seas; it had always been like that since the first sky leader and first gaia leader came to existence. It always had been, until one particularly greedy Vongola subordinate betrayed them; the creature besieged the Shimon on ground, taking them off guard. The creature killed a lot of them, friends, family, comrades, beloved.

Shimon finally managed to weaken and capture the creature, but not without a huge cost. The first gaia leader was gravely injured and had fallen into a coma.

Enraged, Shimon demanded an explanation and compensation as well as help from the first sky leader to save the first gaia leader, but they got none of those. Instead, the first sky leader turned away from their indignant voices, and Vongola pressured them to release the creature.

What could Shimon do at that time? They were far too weak with the decreased manpower and they were without a leader. Vongola was too strong, especially after the Mist and Cloud guardian took over the manpower distribution.

The creature was returned to the skies.

Still, a lot of the Shimon was still hopeful that the Vongola would help them, that the first sky would hear them and save their dying leader.

Until the day their first gaia died, Vongola paid them no heed.

Shimon could not swallow the anger and started a siege. Thousands of years later, Vongola was annihilated and fallen to purgatory, with the mercy of allowing four children live as a repayment for Vongola letting go four of theirs during one of the clashes.

Shimon since then turned the sky and land over and became the rulers of both.

And Enma was the tenth in line for the crown.

Enma’s head lowered. He hated that story. He hated how their people died, how arrogant Vongola was, how the thousands of years of war washed the skies and lands in red. He was not born then, but growing up listening to such horrifying story, Enma grew to hate conflict. He grew to hate how everything ended up with people dying, and vowed that so as long as once he was the leader, he would never allow anything to escalate to such degree.

He would never allow another bloodshed to happen.

And even if Vongola wanted revenge, he would not allow that to happen either, bloody red eyes narrowed.

“… Adelheid. First, look for the traitor. During the previous mission, I was ambushed but a group of reapers; the location of that mission was supposed to be top secret so someone must have leaked it. There must be someone who was controlling the reapers as well because it did not distinguish between good or evil, find them if possible.”

Adelheid nodded.

“Second, tighten the security around the palace ground, especially the inner palaces and library. We mustn’t let anyone unauthorize into these areas or else we would be as good as showing our back to the enemies. And third,” Enma paused.

“Call Cavallone leader in. Besides Shimon, Cavallone was the one who was closest to Vongola back then. They might have some idea what this curse is.”

“Understood.”

It was late into the night where most creature had slept, leaving the shadows and nymphs awake to accompany Tsuna. He was hiking up a mountain, path hidden and messy. He would have got himself lost if not for the little glowing swallow that guided him, Jirou. In his grasp was Natsu, his familiar, purring as he listened to the fairies’ chatters.

“Soon, alright? Stop nagging me all day long, you’re going to talk my ears off.”

The fairies were incensed and tugged on his hair. They were too weak, however, that it felt like a mere tickle to Tsuna. Still, to avoid their attacks, Tsuna quickly placated them.

“Yes, yes. I understand. After all, it has been so long; your queen must’ve been very anxious. We’ll capture—We’re here.”

Jirou chirped as they reached a cliff, surrounded by trees and bushes. Before the edge of the cliff, to the side was a very steep ascend up to the tip of the mountain. It seemed normal, like any normal wall of soil a mountain would have, but Tsuna could see a glowing mark, one only those of blood could see.

Vongola.

“Please be patient.” He said, and went to touch the wall. None of the fairies dared to come close, the powers radiating from the glow far too powerful for them. Tsuna smiled and his eyes glowed.

He walked into the mark and disappeared from sight.

Left behind, the fairies decided to trust Tsuna and waited there along with the shadows.

Inside was as dark as outside where moon did not shine, but Tsuna could see perfectly fine. Jirou who sat on Natsu’s head chirped once, twice, a signal for his arrival, as he moved further in until a door.

Without even knocking, the door swung open and closed heavily behind Tsuna when he walked in.

“Long time no see, Reborn.”

Beyond the door was a large room, not unlike a lounge a palace would have. There were sofas, chairs, tables with beverages and snacks. The only weird thing about the space is that other than the door Tsuna walked through, there were many doors all around and no windows. Reborn, a creature with ghastly shadows was lying on one of the sofas, languidly resting his eyes. At the call, he cracked an eye opened.

“Yo, dame-Tsuna.”

Tsuna rolled his in fond exasperation at the nickname, shaking his head as he made his way over to the sofa. He nudged the latter over and sat down beside him, patting Natsu as it purred at the sight of Leon on Reborn’s head. Reborn grunted and sat up, still lazily leaning against the cushions with his long limbs spread apart.

“You’re being a nuisance, Reborn.” Tsuna grumbled, but letting Reborn place a leg on his lap. He was far used to his old friend’s antics. Also, he sorts of missed such physical contact with him. Reborn scoffed.

“Not like you’d die.”

“I’ve already died once, thanks but no thanks death. By the way, where’s the others?”

“They’re here.” The moment Reborn replied, some of the doors swung open at the same time and came in a group of people.

“My lord!”

Tsuna smiled at them, more delighted to see his family than he let on. He wanted to chat with them, but they had an agenda to plan. “Come on, lets start the meeting. It’s going to take a long time.

Cavallone could not help them. Their current lord had no idea what the curse was and how to break it safely. It was far too out of their scope of knowledge, and none was like the ones recorded in Cavallone’s history books.

Adelheid almost strangle the second in command to death. She was far too at the edge that she ended up snapping at everyone including Enma. Enma understood though, because none of their plans fall in place. The traitors were not found and the curse was still unknown. The only thing that went well was the tightening of security.

Too well, actually, that Enma found it suspicious.

Mami patted Enma on his head—she liked to do that now that she found him shorter than her by more than a head—and said, “Don’t worry, nii-chan. I’m sure everything will be fine.”

Enma smiled at her and nodded. “Hmn. I believe you, Mami.”

Mami grinned.

Adelheid almost blew her fuse at how relaxed he was but managed to hold it back because Mami was there. “Enma, my lord, we must figure out a way to turn you back. The old advisors all had heard of your current predicament, and I doubt that they would not have a plan on pulling you down with the charge of ‘cursed’! You know how bad most Shimons are with the word ‘cursed’! Those advisors would surely take this chance to nominate their heirs for the position!”

Enma sighed. “I know, Adel. I know. But there is nothing we could do. I want to forcefully break this curse now with the consequences be damned, but who is to say that we will succeed? At first glance it doesn’t seem that we need a lot of strength to break it, but I can feel that it is not the case. Even we might not necessarily be able to forcefully break it.”

“But—”

“Adel,” Enma cut off, frowning not in irritation for a subordinate’s disagreement but rather in concern for his friend’s wellbeing. Adelheid could tell, so she shut up and listened. “Adel, I know you’re worried. After all, if I don’t take up the position of the leader, we’d be besieged by our own instead. Our peace faction will fall and those who preferred war would reign. We cannot have that happen; I know. But right now, we are truly out of options—no.”

Adelheid frowned. “’No’?”

Enma suddenly remembered someone. “… Maybe he can help.”

Enma hated going down to the prison; he hated the grim and darkness, hated the stench of water, hated the claustrophobic environment. He loathed the most is the fact that they had imprisoned people, stripping their freedom away from them for eternity.

At the deepest end, there was a door; heavy in metal and locks, sealed by countless of spells and curses.

The very last survivor of the Vongola other than the four children: Ricardo.

Enma nodded at the guards and peered into the prison through the small bars where they deliver food and drinks. “Ricardo Vongola.” He called, respectful despite being the next in line for Shimon.

Ricardo did not so much as react to his call, sat on the chair he was chained to with his head lowered, eyes covered by his messy hair.

“I’m Enma Kozato of Shimon, I presume that you know me.” He continued and yet Ricardo still did not react.

“I need your help.” At those words, Enma could feel the guards looking at him with incredulous gaze, but they were in no authority to question their future leader—even if they were curious as of why he was in this form. At that, Ricardo peered up slightly.

“…”

“I’ve been cursed by someone—I’m now stuck in this child form and I can’t return back to normal.”

Ricardo finally looked up carefully and sized him up. Despite the ragged and dirty form, Enma could tell the second Vongola sky was prideful—his eyes were alive despite thousands of years of captivity. Enma admired him, how strong he was in the face of Vongola’s fall, how he pulled up Vongola during the war when their first sky fell. Enma wished to be as strong as him.

“Please help me.”

“… Tell me, young Shimon,” Ricardo rasped, voice hoarse after years of silence but was still steady and firm. It has an archaic tone. “What gain do I have to help you who cursed my people to death? Why should I help you whose blood belongs to my enemy?”

Enma clenched his hands into fists.

“… Because once I successfully gain the position of a leader, I will bring you out and clear the misunderstanding between Vongola and Shimon.”

Everyone was stunned. The guards exchanged a look of shock but they could tell that Enma was serious.

Even Ricardo could tell.

“What misunderstanding is there? You Shimons were the one who stole our treasure and then when our people fought to bring it back, you guys claimed we mass murdered most of you for greed! You thieves stole the vitality of our people and dared to say we Vongola was the one who did you wrong! What great voices you have, that now Vongola is viewed as cruel killers!”

“Insolent--!” One of the guards started, hissing in anger. Enma quickly shot him a glare that shut him up, before turning back to Ricardo.

“I know.”

Ricardo looked at him with a piercing stare, seemingly stripping his soul bare. Enma let him. “I know the truth; I know that it is us Shimon who has wronged Vongola, and I want to let the world know—

“I want to reveal the truth that broke the friendship between us Vongola and Shimon.”

Ricardo studied him, analysed, contemplated. He was a Vongola—still is—and like all Vongola skies, he could tell if Enma was telling the truth. He knew the man thousands of years younger than him was speaking of the truth. Enma really knew what happened years back when only the first sky, first gaia and him knew.

Should Ricardo really trust him?

“… I will speak to you alone.”

On the day of the coronation, the sky was crying. It was not an uncommon sight; all the coronation of the previous Shimon leaders would be accompanied by rain, a symbol of washing away the past and accepting the future. It was a symbol of peace and blessing.

Enma loved the rain.

Adelheid grumbled beside him as she checked and double checked his attire, making sure that it was neat and tidy. She pinned the Shimon insignia onto the coat carefully with an edge of agitation. “I can’t believe you actually believed that guy. And talked to him alone! Without the guards protecting you!”

Enma looked up at the sky from the window. “He wouldn’t hurt me. Not when his agenda is the same as ours.”

Adelheid gave him a glare. “Still, he’s unaware that we are on the same side. What if he decided you’re not worth it and offed you?”

“He won’t.” Enma repeated with a smile. “He will never.”

Adelheid did not understand. Grumbling still, she gave up on scolding Enma and picked up the cloak in silent protest.

“Adel, I know you’re worried, but look, aren’t I back to normal?”

“… Can we even trust him? It’s not even a permanent solution!”

Enma was back to his normal form. It felt weird being tall again but Enma appreciated the bigger hands that let him grip things properly. Tightening the scabbard of his sword, Enma sighed, feeling more comfortable than ever. “Yes, we can. Besides, didn’t he say we would be able to find the culprit during the coronation? At that time, we will be able to force them to break the curse.”

(“I don’t believe you. I know you know why. But I will help you. It is not permanent—no one other than the caster can break the curse—but it’ll last you through the coronation ceremony. The culprit will most probably show up then, so you’ll see to it yourself. I just hope that you’d carry out what you’ve promised. Remember, the skies are always watching.”)

“As if the culprit would actually do it even if we capture them…”

He gave her a feral grin. “Well, we have you, don’t we?”

Adelheid rolled her eyes but said nothing more. As soon as she finished putting the cloak on him, there was a knock on the door, signifying that the ceremony has begun. She sighed and readied herself.

“Well, there’s no going back at this point.”

Enma smiled. “No, there isn’t.”

The ceremony begun.

“My lord, Tsuna,” Gokudera called out, voice carried steadily to Tsuna’s ears through the wind. “We’re arriving.” Tsuna looked away from the Vongola ring on his middle finger and looked up. He was sitting on Natsu as it flew up the skies to the palace where the coronation takes place. The rest of his friends and family followed closely behind, with Gokudera opening the path with Uri. Breathing in the air, every part of him screamed home.

He missed the sky palace.

“Okay, get ready guys.”

Yamamoto began to whistle loudly, warning cry sharp. Tsuna gave Ryohei and Lambo a look. They both nodded and broke apart from the group, Gyudon bringing them around the palace ground unnoticed. Chrome and Mukuro switched from Tsuna’s side to the back of the group, letting Hibari guard him.

At position, Yamamoto whistled again and this time, it was a war cry, loud enough that all creatures of the sky heard—even the Shimon.

The attack by Vongola was taken by surprise, obviously. Everything happened in a blink of an eye. One moment, the coronation ceremony was going well where Enma took the Shimon ring and put it on, the next, a sharp whistle followed by a sky lion’s roar reverberated through the hall.

Enma’s guardian immediately surrounded him as Shitt. P casted a spell around them, creating a dome-like shield. The guards reacted immediately, but none of them were a match for Vongola’s skylark as he descended in a furry of attacks. The advisors tried to run, but the twin mists covered each other and surrounded the palace as a whole in a never-ending illusion of loops.

They were thoroughly surrounded by the Vongola, and there were only six of them.

Enma wasn’t surprised, because after all, Vongola belongs in the skies while Shimon belongs to the lands. Shimon would never be able to win against the rulers of skies.

What surprised him, however, was Tsuna.

Bloody red eyes widened, he stared at Tsuna as his guardians forcefully killed a path open for him, straight to the throne where Enma and his guardians were. Tsuna was smiling, yet Enma could tell that it was a sad smile.

Enma’s heart hurt for Tsuna.

“My lord! What should we do?!” Aoba shouted, watching carefully to prevent any of the Vongola or anyone else who wanted to fish in muddy water approach them. Plants surrounded them; thorns sharp towards the outside away from them. His powers were limited, however. Unlike on ground, these thorned plants can never be an iron fort. Against the illusions Chrome and Mukuro made, they were nothing.

Enma did not pay a heed, however. All he could think of at that time was how beautiful Tsuna looked in a suit—he was always wearing casual attire during the time he stayed with him so it was novel.

Enma liked Tsuna.

Their eyes met somehow as Tsuna made his way towards them and memories flitted through their mind. It surprised them, but Tsuna did not stop, and Enma started making his way to him too.

“Wha—Enma!!” Adelheid called out, trying to grab him and pull him back into the dome when a chain smashed against where her hand was. “Do not interrupt, herbivore.” Hibari snarled as he continued fighting against the countless of guard.

Strangely enough, none of those he knocked down were dead or gravely injured, Julie noted. The smile on his face slipped slightly.

When Enma and Tsuna came close enough, they stopped.

A pair of bloody red eyes and a pair of bright orange eyes glowed.

They smiled.

“Time to take back your place.” Tsuna jested. “I can’t believe you’d actually fallen for the trick.”

Enma sighed. “Yes, it’s time.” He shook his head and pulled out the Shimon ring and handed over to Tsuna. “Death really did me over with that curse.”

“Enma what are you doing?!” At that shout, the fight stopped. It wasn’t much of a fight, anyway. Gokudera and Yamamoto were in charge of holding back most of them while Hibari knocked down the stubborn ones; Chrome and Mukuro had the whole palace under lockdown. The Shimon stopped and gasped, some even started shouting at Enma to not give in to the enemy.

Enma did not even bother looking at them.

Tsuna grinned, laughing. “Death had fun.” Instead of taking the ring, he pulled out the Vongola ring too and hand over to Enma. “I had fun too, when you come find me.” This time, not only the Shimon was shocked into silence, even the Vongola guardians were stunned. “Tsuna?” Yamamoto asked uncertainly.

They exchanged the rings. The moment both of them had a firm grasp of the rings—Enma with Vongola and Tsuna with Shimon—flames ignited from the rings.

Enma’s bloody red eyes softened down to bright orange while Tsuna’s bright orange eyes darkened to bloody red.

Everyone gasped.

Standing where Enma was, Giotto sighed. “Too long. It has been too long.” He said, nostalgia as he looked at the ring. He looked up at Cozarto. “Right, Cozarto?”

Cozarto at where Tsuna was, agreed in a heartbeat. “Agree. It has been too long. It shouldn’t have been… So many of ours had died…”

Giotto nodded, forlorn and regretful. “Yes… If only we could wake earlier. But I guess, better late than never?”

“Yes.”

He turned around and smiled at the Shimon’s youngest guardians. “Isn’t that right?” He said again, looking straight at Julie. “Better late than never, huh, Julie?”

Julie scowled. “I don’t know what—”

“Or should I say, Daemon.”

The dome that protected the guardians broke at the name and all of them scattered far away from Julie, weapons pointed at him.

Julie gave them a bewildered look. “Wha—What are you guys doing?! Why are you believing an enemy’s words?! We should all trust each other especially at this time!”

“We all knew who you truly are.” Ooyama said. “Since the beginning.”

Julie gritted his teeth. “I can’t believe you guys. Years after years of friendship, estranged like this all because of a word from someone who’s supposed to be dead?!”

“No,” Adelheid refuted. “It wasn’t just a word. The Vongola had long contacted us about this. We knew all this while that you aren’t Julie.” She sounded as though she was grieving. “Julie… He… He’s long dead.”

Julie was stunned in place.

Years ago, when the war was at its peak, eight children of Shimon ran away from their home, a hideout where Enma’s father built for his family and closest friends. Their location was leaked, and Vongola, to seize Enma’s father who was a general at that time, attacked them. At first, they merely wanted to subdue them but for some reason, all of the Vongola soldiers’ eyes turned indigo and they started slaughtering with abandon.

Enma’s mother noticed that something was wrong the moment the first blood was shed, and immediately ordered Enma to bring his sister and the other kids to run. There were only eight of them then, so they ran and ran and ran, away from their home and into the woods. Vongola chased them, but the shadows held them back; the creatures of the forest screaming at them for harming their own.

The eight of them managed to escape and hid in a cave. It was safe at first; they could stay there until Enma’s father come to them. However, Kaoru and Ooyama was gravely injured, and Aoba fell ill. They could not wait any longer. Thus, Julie, being the oldest among them, went looking for herbal medicines and food. He never came back.

Ooyama soon fell into a coma from heavy loss of blood and stopped breathing the next day. Kaoru so to not be a burden forcefully stopped his own breathing the following day. Aoba lasted longer, but his cold was too serious and he died in shock.

Four of them died. And four of them were left behind hungry, cold and scared.

After burying their body, Enma and Adelheid decided that they could not stay any longer. Mami, too, was falling ill and Shitt. P was barely holding onto sanity. In the dark, they made a decision to leave and find their parents in the frontline.

In the end, they were captured by the Vongola midway. They were the four children who were released by the Vongola, the children that they let go and not killed.

“That time, we actually tried to look for Julie, but he was gone. The spirits of the forest said Death took him, and there was nothing else we could do.”

Julie was persistent. “But I’m here! I came back!”

“No,” Shitt. P shook her head. “No, you did not. You infiltrated us. Julie never came back; Daemon you took over his soul and killed his chance of coming back with Ooyama, Kaoru and Koyo. You killed our big brother.” Her eyes were teary, but blazing with rage. Shitt. P was closest to Julie besides Enma then, but no more.

Julie gritted his teeth. He lowered his head and his shoulders trembled. He looked like he was crying in frustration from the lack of trust of his comrades, but they all knew better.

Cozarto and Giotto walked over and stood in front of them, shielding them in a sense.

“We all know what you did, Daemon.” Cozarto said. “Its over; don’t torment the children with that face anymore.”

Julie suddenly tilted his head back and laughed, almost maniacally. Shadows stirred and swarmed him. Indigo mist tinted in midnight blue burned his skin and suddenly, his form changed. “My, my. You guys truly, truly played a trick on me.”

Daemon clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Well play, honestly. But so what if you know who I am? My goal is almost achieved after all.” He showed them a deck of cards—50 pieces. All bloodied and with the horrific face of the dead figures of both Shimon and Vongola.

They were the cages of those who held significant power in Shimon and Vongola.

“2 more, and I will get my wish.” He laughed hysterically, as though he could not believe it. “And these two… I reserve them for you two, Cozarto, Giotto!”

Daemon threw over two soul catchers.

Giotto sighed and closed his eyes. Cozarto smiled sadly at him as they reached for each other’s hands. ‘This is the end…’ Upon seeing that, Ricardo, who was brought out by Ryohei and Lambo, shouted, “No!!”

The rings in their hands joined together and a bright, blinding light flared, forcing everyone to close their eyes.

When they can finally open their eyes, Daemon, Giotto and Cozarto disappeared; the deck of cards and two rings were left behind.

Ricardo pushed off Ryohei, who was healing him and reached to grab the rings. “No, why…? This is not what they told me, why?!”

Death approached him and sighed. Reborn crouched down and looked at the rings, glowing faintly. “It’s their repayment.”

“Fuck their repayment!” Ricardo sobbed. Reborn’s expression was shadowed as he pulled him in.

“No, w-what happened? Where’s Enma?!” Adelheid rushed forward and questioned. “Why is the first gaia still alive?! Why did the first sky take over Enma’s body?! Where is he?!”

“Reborn-san, where’s Tsuna?! Didn’t he say nothing will happen?! That we will be able to live happily after all this ends?!” Gokudera snapped. Among all of them, the ones who rejected this plan the most was him, because no matter how he calculated, he could not figure out the way Tsuna can defeat Daemon, the defect. If it wasn’t for his trust for Tsuna, he would have long vetoed the plan till the end.

Reborn looked at the both of them. He was silent, but still explained in the end.

“Both of them were long dead.”

When Enma was released by the soldiers along with Mami, Adelheid and Shitt. P, it was not without a condition; for Enma to be the Vongola heir, Tsuna’s, servant. Of course, the Shimon were not willing, but for their youngest survivors’ lives, they had no choice. Enma had no choice too, so while the three girls were brought back home, Enma was brought up to the sky.

That was Enma and Tsuna’s first meeting.

Tsuna was a kind boy, hidden deep in the palace by the leaders of the Vongola. He was pure and innocent, but he was not ignorant. He was aware of the war outside, and he was aware that Enma was brought in to be his servant. He could tell that the boy was unwilling and was just as lost as he was with the arrangement.

Tsuna’s first decision was to make him his friend instead.

And so Tsuna dragged Enma everywhere, telling him to call him by his name, chat with him about things that fascinate him, protecting him from the other Vongola’s sneers and insults. He outright called out anyone who dared to bully Enma in front of the court and the leader—his father—and demanded punishment.

After three times, no one dared to treat Enma any other way than with respect.

“Why? Why would you do this?” Enma asked one night as they cuddled under the blankets watching the stars shine. Tsuna was yawning, tired from playing around all day. He looked at Enma and smiled with his bright orange eyes glowing. “Because you’re my friend. Because you bleed the same red blood as I do, feel the same pain in your beating heart as I do, breathe the same air as I do. But more importantly,”

He paused, flushing slightly.

“Because I like you.”

Enma was stunned.

He smiled back, eyes soft and fond.

“I like you too, Tsuna.”

Their hands intertwined under the blankets.

Three months later, Enma and Tsuna sneaked into the mausoleum where the first sky and his guardians’ remains resided. Tsuna wanted to tell him about the first sky, wanted to explain that history was not as it was.

They had never expected that they would find not just the first sky, but also the first gaia.

“They look just like us.” Giotto said words archaic and ancient all the same as he mused to Cozarto, both watching the children who was in awe and vigilance. “Just like how we were when we were brats.”

Cozarto laughed and nodded. “Exactly the same.”

“A-are you the first sky and gaia?” Enma, shielding most of Tsuna with his body, asked warily.

Cozarto smiled. “Yes.”

Tsuna gasped. “You guys are still alive? P-please, your eminences! Please stop the war! T-there’s too much bloodshed! Too many innocent lives are sacrificed, and even those in purgatory were dragged into this!”

Tsuna was just a child, but he was so, so pure. His wish was solely for the blood to stop; for the war to end; for the peace of his dead friends. (Yamamoto had gone first when he accidentally stumbled into a crossfire; followed by Lambo who was abandoned by his parents in an alley on lands without the knowledge of the rest; Mukuro shielded Chrome from a Shimon suicide soldier; and Hibari died protecting the creatures of the skies when Shimon set fire to the nursery in retaliation for the forest fire on land.)

Enma’s wish were the same. He wanted peace for the three who were waiting for him, wanted them to smile and live without danger.

Giotto shook his head. “We are no longer living, child.” He crouched down in front of them, sadness crafted deep into his eyes. “It is our fault—we should have ended it while we could, and now we can’t…”

Cozarto patted him on his back comfortingly, yet he said nothing because that was the truth.

Enma clenched his hands into fist, understanding what he meant easily. “Please. You must have a way. Otherwise, both of you wouldn’t stay here for so long even after death.”

Cozarto looked at him in the eyes. “… Indeed.” He admitted. “We do have a way, but we both do not have enough strength.”

“Tell us! We’ll help!” “Yes, we’ll do it regardless of the cost!”

The first gaia and sky exchanged a look.

Half a year later, the Shimon found their way up to the sky palace and ambushed them. Tsuna and Enma was hidden deep in the palace, so they were as safe as they can be, but somehow, one of the Shimon managed to enter the restricted area they were in.

“Young master! I’m so glad that you’re safe! Please step back so I can eliminate him—”

Enma and Tsuna smiled at each other and injected their souls into the rings; Enma with Vongola ring, and Tsuna with Shimon ring.

They both disappeared into the rings. In their place, Giotto took the face of Enma and Cozarto took the face of Tsuna. Both of them fainted and forgotten their memories.

The Shimon soldier took Enma back and left Tsuna on the ground, death hovering around both.

It happened like this:

Years back, when Vongola and Shimon was first established, Giotto and Cozarto took because the first sky and gaia with the former taking the sky and the latter taking the land. Both were good friends and partners, and both of their guardians got along. They were happy, holding the world up together in peace. Every day they will watch over the world, smiling as all creatures lived, helping in small ways they could in disasters, praying for them if they couldn’t. They will, together, guard the meaning of their existence—

Each other and the world.

One day, a plague spread across the lands and took millions after millions of lives. Cozarto could not do anything, for that was the curse of Death and Death could only obey the rules of the world. Helpless, he could only watch on even as the pleads of the creatures reached his ears. He could only hold onto Giotto as they supported each other, praying for the end of the plague.

It did end after a long while, but not without many lives lost, especially Cozarto’s people since they lived on land. They were in grief and rage that Cozarto did not save their loved ones, unable to understand why Cozarto only watched on.

There was a break in the bonds of the Shimon—one that hated Cozarto and wanted him dead, and one that supported him even if they did not understand.

Cozarto kept mum.

Death had once said: “These people may be yours, but so as long as they do not understand, they will not follow you. Why not—"

“Reborn.” Cozarto, the corner of his eyes red in anger, glared at Death. “They are my people still. They are Shimon, and so as long they are, I will accept them.”

Death closed its mouth and Reborn turned around to find Ricardo. Giotto did not so as much as give him a look as he grabbed Cozarto and pull him into a hug. “I understand, Cozarto, you know I do.”

Cozarto buried his face into his shoulder, holding on. “I know.”

Soon, it wasn’t known if someone from Vongola leaked it or that Shimon discovered from the old archives, the Shimon discovered that Vongola housed a creature—the queen of fairies who can call upon the souls of the dead and let them speak to their loved ones—and started demanding for the queen to lend them their power.

They called upon the skies for the fairy and under the reason ‘as a compensation for watching their beloved die’, they pled for the fairy to call upon their loved ones for one last farewell.

And how would the Vongola allow? How would the queen of fairy do that? Yes, she could call upon the souls of the dead, but that was under the premise that death allows; so as long it don’t, she couldn’t do so. And even if she could, how much strength does she have? Calling upon one soul took almost a quarter of her strength; how could she call upon thousands after thousands?

Naturally, even if she wanted to help, she couldn’t. Not even her spouse, Daemon Spade, the first sky’s guardian, would allow.

Cozarto also denied their pled for his aid and tried to dissuade them. A lot of them were not satisfied, so they banded together and kidnapped the fairy queen, forcing her to call their loved ones.

Daemon Spade was infuriated and descended onto them in vengeance. In the process, when he saw how his wife was dying from the torture, his eyes turned indigo and he started slaughtering those who kidnapped her.

He failed to bring her back as she fell into purgatory, barely saved by the other fairies who brought her back to the Tree of Life.

“Daemon, please. Calm down. You have killed all of those that laid their hands on Eleanor. Please, stop doing anymore unnecessary bloodshed.”

Daemon, who was brought back bloodied and chained, glared at him, eyes dark indigo and turning midnight blue. “No, it’s not enough! You did not see the state of my beloved; any longer and she would have died! I will never forgive those dirty blood, never!”

Giotto frowned, concerned about not only Eleanor and Daemon’s state, but also Cozarto who had to do damage control on the lands. He too was helpless in this state, because the wrong was in the Shimon just as much as it was in Vongola turning a blind eye to the Shimon’s plight.

All Giotto could do was lock Daemon up.

“Cozarto, how…?”

Cozarto shook his head, temple throbbing in pain from stress. “No, none of them wanted reconciliation. They… They’re starting to turn everything around and say that all faults belong to Vongola. I… No matter how much I try to explain, none of them would listen.”

Giotto sighed. “I guessed just as much… I’ve locked Daemon up for now. Hopefully he’ll calm down soon and then, we can do an announcement to both Vongola and Shimon. I’ll try to get Death to explain.”

“Will he though? I thought Reborn hated explaining to the living. He wouldn’t even tolerate us if it wasn’t for Ricardo.”

“We have no other choice; no one wanted to listen to us. Only Reborn as Death itself can help us now.”

Cozarto hummed, exhausted both physically and mentally. He was tired and hurting, not just because his people were rioting, but also because Daemon caused the death of many. But he also knew the Shimon were at fault even if he understood the reason for their desperation. All and everything were just giving him a huge headache and he felt like he couldn’t even breath. On one hand it was his people; on the other it was his friend’s guardian. He was stuck.

His only solace at the moment was Giotto—one who understood him from the beginning till the end.

“… I miss you.”

Giotto smiled sadly, palming the ginger’s face on the mirror. He leaned his forehead against the cold glass, imagining the warmth, and said “I miss you too.”

They both thought that as long as they held on, they would eventually be able to overcome this crisis.

But the rules of the world had another idea.

Daemon broke free. Daemon was a genius of his own, different from G who invented many, many technologies. Daemon created many spells, seals and curses, all with the inner strength all living creatures possess. He had even wanted to spread his creations one day to everyone in the world so that they can learn and strengthen their power, to live a stronger life.

Who would have thought, because of the incident, he no longer wanted them to have this knowledge but he wanted to kill them all with the tortures he invented?

Daemon sacrificed his corporal body and turned into mist. He knew Giotto would stop him, so he temporarily decapitated his soul and took over his body. Because Alaude, who could usually tell, was no around, he managed to trick the other guardians into thinking that he was Giotto. And so, he created his plan.

Since the Shimon wanted Eleanor to call upon their dead family, he would fulfil them. He created a deck of empty cards, 52 of them. He would capture the souls of those who are truly desperate and seal them in the card. Once all 52 were filled, he would bring them to Death in exchange for those who died before. Death would not be able to reject him because he had Ricardo in his hands.

And when those who died before are brought back to the land of living, they will be his puppets; and he would make those sealed in the cards watch how he torture their beloved just as they did to his spouse.

Giotto was so spiritually wounded by him that he could not respond to Cozarto’s call.

Cozarto realized soon enough that Giotto was unresponsive and immediately tried to find him, but instead, Daemon took the chance to heavily injure him as well.

“You, as their leader, shall take the blame as well.”

Cozarto fell into a coma.

When Alaude came back, it was too late; Daemon had long killed the Vongola guardians when each and one of them realized what was happening. In the end, Alaude, too, was sacrificed in order to wake Giotto up and expel Daemon from his body. Giotto was spiritually broken then, but in his last breathes, he connected with Cozarto’s spirit on land and developed a plan.

Like Daemon, they both abandoned their corporal bodies and wait for an opportunity. Who would have known that Daemon had long thought of that and planted a curse on their souls? So long as they are no longer bound to physical body, they could no longer find another and no one could see them.

Cozarto and Giotto could only stick to each other as they watch Vongola and Shimon fall into war.

It was only until they saw Tsuna and Enma years later that they had a chance. The children had to exchange their souls with theirs so that they can break the curse. It was all at the cost of their lives and no matter how Giotto and Cozarto explained, they wouldn’t back down. So they exchanged. And they couldn’t do it alone, so they asked for Death’s help whilst passing a message to Ricardo.

“Soon, a child will come to you. He will tell you that he wanted to expose the truth behind the war, why it started and how it had come to be. He will tell you that he wanted peace, that he wanted Vongola and Shimon to reunite. Help him.”

“Who is he?”

“My prodigy,” Giotto smiled. “He will survive.”

“But will you, brother?”

“… Yes.”

“… Alright. So as long as you promised to come back, I will.” Giotto smiled sadly and said nothing.

Years later, the child came, and everything fell in place.

Enma and Tsuna were asleep, in the Tree of Life, hands intertwined. Eleanor watched as they sleep, smiling sadly.

She looked up to the sky and sighed.

“Daemon, my love, I will see you soon.” She scattered and her powers were transferred to the two children.

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

A/N: WELP YET ANOTHER YEAR! HAPPY KHR RAREPAIR WEEK!!!!

as usual, its unedited because am busy with studying. Finals!!! qwq

This is a mess of a story and I can tell yall, that summary of mine is v click-baity. Its not even that good. Its full of plot holes and you guys can tell where I gave up and where I started miserable attempts to patch the plot holes lmao. Just imagine that its not there :3

Anyways to summarise this confusing story of mine, basically a few centuries or so (timeline what timeline?), plague happened, shimon on land died, urged vongola in the sky to help, no help, war. Cozarto and Giotto died in attempt to find peace, and because Daemon is cray cray, so they ended up possessing Tsuna and Enma respectively. You can tell this is where I try to make it mistaken identity AU lmao. I don't even think its this AU but whatever, right? :D

I was surprised that it went 11k tho... Hope you guys enjoy this messy 'little' story and stay safe!

[I apologize for any grammar, spelling, etc. etc. mistakes]

#KHR #Katekyo Hitman Reborn #khrrarepairweek2021 #Kozato Enma #Sawada Tsunayoshi #Giotto #Cozarto Simon #My Writings

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pebblysand · 3 years

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[OCTOBER ‘21] - THE LIFE/WRITING UPDATE NO ONE ASKED FOR (AND SOME QUICK LINKS)

ugh. autumn. i know yous all love the golden leaves aesthetics and the pumpkins and the hot chocolates but i hate: the lack of natural light, the cold, the rain like static in the air and the yearly interrogation: should i prep and do nanowrimo?

Anyway, before diving into more life/writing updates, here are some quick links to different blog pages you might not see on mobile :

to read my fics

to read my original work

fic recs

to read my tumblr rants about stuff

[NOTE: i am currently not accepting prompts. i already have a backlog, folks.]

Castles (chap 9) ETA: i’m hoping somewhere in the week of the 18th of october. more details below

links extended a/n-s: chapter v ; chapter vi & vii ; chapter viii ; chapter ix

[more life/writing updates under the cut]

what i’m reading:

ugh, i probably haven’t been reading as much as i should this month, especially since september is always sort of when all the interesting book come out. but, look, i’ve been spending a lot of time writing and doing both is hard. i have three books on my immediate tbr and i haven’t finished a single one so far. this being said, here’s what i’m reading atm:

books:

oh, sally. my dear, my love, the one and only. unless you’ve been living under a rock, you’ll know that sally rooney’s latest novel, beautiful world, where are you? came out early september. if you’ve followed my tumblr at all, you’ll know that i am a sally rooney unconditional stan, so obviously, i love, love, love the book. (seriously, @hiinnys left a comment on a fic once comparing my writing to hers and i was like alright, i can die now, thank you.) i’m about halfway through the novel at the moment so i will say this: so far i love it. i don’t love it as much as i loved normal people but i think that’s okay, some books resonate with you more than others. i also didn’t love conversations with friends as much as i loved normal people. i think, from what i’ve gathered, that’s sort of the consensus online, but to be honest, i feel like we’re holding her to a standard that is way too hard. sally’s writing is incredible but part of me feels like, because we are now used to it, we sort of expect even more. she’s only one person. i’ll probably do a full review once i’ve finished the book for now, i’m thoroughly enjoying it.

i haven’t advanced on an american marriage by tayari jones because sally took priority, not even gonna apologise haha. i have two french books on my immediate tbr as well which i’ll start after i’m finished with sally (the latest sorj chalandon who, after sally rooney, is the second writing god, as far as i’m concerned, and the maitre mo book which i’d always meant to read but since they re-edited after he died, i got it now. the fact that it was first on the non fiction list on amazon before zemmour’s book brings me a lot of joy and comfort). so, i don’t think i’ll pick up an american marriage again for a while.

fics:

i’ve recently discovered knowing where to look by ala_baguette, which is a very interesting work and which i would highly recommend. it’s a wip at the moment but considering the length of the chapters and the weekly updating schedule, unless ala_baguette is superhuman, i strongly suspect it’s fully written already and you can follow along safely. the fic is post-war, canon-compliant, and very interestingly told from robards’ pov. it’s not a super shippy h/g fic (although that tag is mentioned) but if you like castles for the post-war, wizarding admin, auror, ministry reconstruction sort of vibe, i think you will like this. the outsider look on harry is fascinating and i love the more adult feel of this story (robards’ marriage woes, his views on the world, etc.). a lot of the stuff discussed in this work is stuff that i either have thought about but didn’t have the opportunity to discuss in castles or stuff that i have discussed but which is obviously explored differently by this author (the whole thing of the immunity agreement comes to mind). i am really enjoying it so far and would love to see some of you give it some love because it certainly doesn’t have the amount of kudos it deserves.

what i’m watching:

of note, i’ve watched the britney spears documentary and the lularoe documentary which both left me in a state of anger and despair (lol) and finally got started on downton abbey. i honestly don’t really understand the hype. it’s a good show, but if i stopped watching it tomorrow, i don’t think i would really care. though, of course, maggie smith is an icon and should be protected at all cost, obv she is the reason i’m still watching.

i did watch a very good show called dublin murders based on the tana french books which i would highly recommend. i will say, though, the show has an interesting, unfinished tone to it with a lot of plot line voluntarily left unresolved so if that's the kind of thing that gets on your nerves, perhaps give it a pass. i personally loved it and hated it at the same time, but it was overall a very good crime series to watch. you might love this if you loved broadchurch. it was also nice to see dublin on tv cause we don't see it often.

i’ve also tried watching that korean show squid game on netflix but i stopped in the first half hour. my father and my aunt have both gravely suffered from gambling addictions and the whole set-up around the main character’s gambling made me uncomfortable. if you’ve watched the show, you’ll remember that scene in the first episode with the little girl in the restaurant - in many respects, i have been that little girl. and, i know it’s one of netflix’s most popular shows atm and i do trust that it’s good, i just don’t think it’s for me. it brought back a lot of shitty memories and i suppose that’s where i sort of wish there were trigger warnings on these things.

what i’m writing:

castles. castles, castles. spent the first two weeks working on small, line edits for early chapters, half of which i already put into ao3, half of which i didn’t, it’s a bit of a mess right now. anyway, i’m now working on writing chapter 9, i have around 5,000 words done. i’m honestly so chuffed about this story again. like, i wake up and i want to get writing, which is just the best feeling in the world. i would really like to publish around the 18th of october because i’m going on holiday at the end of october, so that would push it back again to november otherwise, but we shall see.

i’m currently considering doing nano in november but in the hopes of finishing castles (or at least have a first draft of everything) but we shall see.

what i’m doing:

honestly? post-pandemic dating, post-pandemic partying, hopefully post-pandemic traveling, and post-pandemic looking for a new job. i’m just taking it one day at a time at the moment, and see what happens. :)

lots of love,

pebblysand.

#life update #october 2021 #castles

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chris-evans-indian-fanfic · 4 years

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Apples and Tomatoes

One-Shot

Description: Chris meets your cats for the first time.

Warning: None! This is only fluff

This one-shot is my entry for @marvelinsanity 's 300 followers writing challenge. Congratulations girl! 😄 You can either choose from her list of amazing prompts or you can write your own fic! Click here to know more

A/N: Both the cats mentioned in this fic exist in my life. I have used their photographs in the fic. Scroll towards the end to watch my another cat sing 🎶If you are happy and you know it say meow🎶

My Main Masterlist

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but Tumblr and AO3, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

…

Chris eyed Mini Maw with uncertainty. He could tell that the feline disliked him. She wouldn't let him pet her, and jerked away everytime Chris tried to come near. She only sat an arm's length away and stared at him intensely, swishing her tail from left to right.

After dating Chris for almost a year, you had finally decided to introduce him to your cats, Mini Maw and Warreo.

Mini Maw, as her name suggested, was tiny and skinny. Her thin neck could fit between the "O" formed by your middle finger and thumb. That's why Chris tried to pet Mini before even approaching Warreo while you were freshening up.

"Yes sweetie give me a minute," you cooed from behind the door as Warreo continued to pine for your attention.

Chris heard Warreo's gruff "meows" from the other room as the male cat sat outside the washroom door, waiting for you. Though you had always mentioned that Warreo was more loving than Mini, Chris had his doubts. For one, Warreo was a huge cat. The width of his tail was equal to Mini's neck. Secondly, Warreo sported a lot of marks on his face and neck, remnants of his fights from back when he was a stray.

Chris looked forlorn. His worst nightmare was coming true. Cats had always hated him. And now that your cats hated him too, he knew you would break up with him. Anxiety started gnawing at his mind as he imagined you breaking up with him. You were great with Dodger, hell you could make friends with an alligator if the opportunity arose. But he knew how important your cats were to you. And if they didn't warm up to him...

As he slowly started drowning in his despair, you emerged from your room with the blue-eyed cat at your heels. Chris melted at your sweet smile, but worry was still etched on his face.

Your smile turned upside down when you noticed the change in his mood. "What's wrong baby?" you inquired while petting both the cats.

He sighed in response, "I am sorry. I… I don't know what it is about me but… I am sorry."

"Hey look at me," you lovingly whispered at his hung head, "what happened Chris?"

"Your cats hate me," he admitted with remorseful eyes, "All the cats hate me. I tried to pet Mini and she moved away. Warreo refuses to even look at me and… ugh I don't know what to do."

You tried to suppress your laughter but couldn't. Chris shot you a puzzled look as you laughed, "Ohh baby! Mini and Warreo don't hate you. They just don't know you yet, that's why they are a little aloof. Here, do one thing," you went to the kitchen and returned with cat food, "Feed them and sit besides their bowls as they are eating. Rub Warreo's back lightly while he eats, but ignore Mini."

Chris had his doubts, "Are you sure?"

You nodded, "Trust me."

Chris followed your instructions to the T. Warreo's blue eyes looked up at Chris and he said a loud, gruff MEOW. Chris tentatively moved backwards. You chuckled, "He's asking you to tilt the bowl slightly so that he can eat the remaining food."

Warreo kept his eyes on Chris as he gathered the food in the bowl. The cat started munching again.

"Chris you need to relax," you coaxed him, "they like you."

"How can you say that? They are not warming up to me. When I first met Dodger he was all over me!" Chris exclaimed in his defense.

"Honey, you cannot compare the behaviour of cats and dogs. It's like comparing apples with tomatoes!" your replied with a smile.

"Apples and oranges," he corrected you solemnly.

"No. In this case it's apples and tomatoes. Just because cats don't jump at you or lick your face when you first meet them, it doesn't mean that they dislike you!" you explained, "The fact that Mini Maw chose to stay in the same room as you, didn't hiss at you and stayed in your vicinity means that she found you interesting!"

Warreo finished his food and looked at Chris expectantly. Chris narrowed his eyes and slowly raised his hand to pet his soft head. It was a success! Warreo closed his eyes in delight as he took in more of Chris' loving pets. The cat then started to rub himself on Chris' body, his tail standing rigidly tight against Chris' figure. "He likes me!" Chris beamed.

"Yes he does! Remember what I told you about Warreo?" you reminded him, "He's always hungry for food and is a forever attention-seeking slut."

Chris laughed heartily at your statement, "He's a slut?"

"He is!" you joined him in his laughter. "He has so much love to give it's heartwarming. And he develops his trust pretty quickly. Unlike this one," you cupped Mini Maw's face in your hands, dropping kisses on her forehead.

"When will she let me pet her?" Chris inquired as Warreo kept nudging his face in his large palm.

"It will take time. But don't lose heart. She is extremely intelligent and has a mind of her own. She will come to you when she wants to," you admitted with a smile.

ONE YEAR LATER

"Hey Mini," Chris got down on his knees to speak to the feline, "I want to ask your Mumma to marry me. Look I even got this ring for her," he showed her a black velvet box with a diamond ring nestled inside, "But before I do, I want your blessings," he admitted sincerely.

Mini walked towards Chris and nuzzled at his knee, looking at him with her wide, yellowish-green eyes.

Chris pet her head for the first time ever since he met her. "Thank you Mini. I love you too sweetie," he confessed with tears in his eyes.

__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__

Permanent tag: @donutloverxo

Chris and his characters: @onetwo3000

Taglist open! Just comment, send an ask or a message!

BONUS VIDEO!

Here's Pappa Maw singing-

#chris evans #chrisevans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fandom #Chris Evans x cat #cat #cats #chris evans fluff #chris evans imagines #chris evans imagine #Chris Evans x pet #Marvelinsanity300

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aelysianmuse · 4 years

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DESTIEL FIC REC

Okay, so, fanfiction is something that has brought me so much joy, entertainment and comfort during these hard times. These are the Destiel fics that I have bookmarked and would suggest for everyone to read. They are top notch in every department and I’ve read each and every multiple times. I wrote them down from the lowest word count to the highest and I linked the authors to their tumblr accounts, whenever I could find them, so please go shower them with love!

Touchstone - by xylodemon - Words: 3,519 - Summary: "You're in pain," Cas says finally. He sounds sad. (Episode tag for 11x03, the one where Dean is hurt but doesn’t think he deserves Cas healing him. Cas disagrees and makes heals him in loveliest, most tender way. Everything is beautiful.)

Colette - by englandwouldfall - Words: 4,218 - Summary: Cain’s prediction keeps ringing in his ears. He’s going to kill Crowley, then Cas, then Sam. It makes sense to him. He hates how much sense it makes, but there’s something almost poetic about it; it’s circular, neat, the Mark wants it. The Mark wants to destroy everything, but most of all it wants to destroy Dean. And that would do it. (Episode tag 10x14, Dean struggling with the Mark, unable to deal with all the anger and urge to kill and Cas trying to be his savior Collette. Feelings are acknowledged but things are far more complicated than that.)

Newton’s Third - by felolle - Words: 6,220 - Summary: “How can I be running from something when I’m racing toward it?” “I dunno -- kinda your thing.” Thanks for the call out, little brother (Episode tag 14x03, Cas helping Dean deal with Michael possession. Awesome character portrayal!)

Take me home tonight - by persephoneshadow - Words: 8,111 - Summary: The one where Cas wants to have sex and Dean is there to help (It’s a PWP where it takes some jealousy for Dean to get his head out of his ass - and Cas knows exactly what he’s doing)

Boys on film - by loversantiquities - Words: 8,540 - Summary: But maybe that’s what it is—maybe Castiel’s finally realized something Dean is too chicken to admit, despite the fact he’s been jerking off to the idea of Castiel fucking him for the past few weeks. The idea warms him as much as it pains him to think about, his friend not being able to talk to him about something like that. That has to be it—it’s the only explanation. Castiel likes him.“Or maybe he knows you do cam shows.”Dean chokes on his burger. (Basically Dean does cam-shows, Cas knows. They get it on in the end.)

Cuckoo and Nest - by komodobits - Words: 10, 190 - Summary: For a long time, Castiel thought that every earthly possession other than the immediately necessary was excess to requirement. But Dean – Dean who named his car, who keeps a photograph of his mother in his wallet, some thirty-plus years after her death, who still has the crumpled ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign with a sleeping pelican emblazoned on it from the Microtel outside of Roanoke where he first kissed Castiel, clumsy and unsure, under the unsteady fluorescence of an exhausted bathroom bulb – is sentimental.It puzzles Castiel, where Dean draws the line between what is meaningful and what it is worthless. (Boys walking on eggshells around each other, Castiel mistaking Dean’s neatness for annoyance about Cas’s lack of thereof, Dean mistaking Cas’s apprehension for having one foot out of the door. Miscommunication that gets resolved. It’s delightful!)

Just turn around and go - by Porcupinegirl - Words: 11,320 - Summary: Dean should be happy. His best friend and housemate of five years, Castiel, is moving out to live with his boyfriend, Balthazar. Dean's career is going great, so he can easily afford the house on his own now. This is just growing up, moving forward to the next phase of their lives.It would be awesome, if he weren't in love with Cas. (Some angst and miscommunication among roomies who are in love but needed a little push to finally do something about it, and that push is Cas deciding to move out and live with his actual boyfriend. Things work out just fine.)

So glad we made it - by annie d (scaramouche) - Words: 16,421 - Summary: At twelve years old, Dean makes a friend, who becomes his best friend, who will eventually become the love of his life. (Destiel fic in which they know each other since childhood and take their sweet-ass time with admitting to each other that they’re otp: meant to be. But it happens. Timeline of little snippets that show them falling in love and owning that shit up, at last!)

I know who I want to take me home- by annodominique - Words: 17,548 - Summary: The one where Dean and Cas are new workmates who hate each other's guts, are somehow forced into driving each other crazy because they secretly want to fuck, and they might have fallen in love with each other in the process. (Lots of sexual tension, mutual pining and enemies to lovers storyline - all in a nursing home. It’s amazing and absolutely heartwarming.)

Welcome to humanity - by winnywriter - Words: 19,944 - Summary: Castiel is falling, slowly but surely becoming fully human. Every day there is something new to discover, and many of those discoveries are not wholly pleasant ones. And the whole time, Dean can't help but worry about the fact that the further the angel falls, the more he finds he likes the human Cas is becoming. (It’s exactly what the summary says it is. Moments of Castiel slowly becoming human and Dean trying to help him navigate that path while navigating it himself in the most Dean way possible)

On air - by wincechesters - Words: 21,219 - Summary: Cas and Dean are radio DJs who host the second most popular morning show in Lawrence. They’ve been co-hosts for years at different stations across the country, and they own a house together out of necessity, even though they’re just friends. But for some reason, a lot of their listeners and even some of their friends and family seem to think that they’re secretly in some kind of relationship, which they’re totally not (besides that one time that totally doesn’t count). In spite of that, Dean thinks he’s got everything figured out, until an ill-fated on air game of Truth or Dare turns everything upside down (and the billboards around town aren’t helping either). (Friends to lovers story that’s very well summarized, so I have nothing to add except that it’s such a wonderful read, this author is absolutely amazing and you should definitely read it.)

The Beach House in the Winter - by englandwouldfall - Words: 23,715 - Summary: They're not exactly in a good place right now, so it was probably a bad idea to agree to a full Milton family reunion at their old summer haunt to mark a year since Cas' father died.Obviously, he did it anyway. (This is a second part of a series, I absolutely suggest reading all of the works ‘cause they’re equally wonderful, but I read this one first and individually and loved it the most so I’m suggesting it. Look at tag warnings. It’s about Dean having panic attacks mid sex due to trauma, Castiel trying to treat him right and handle the situation properly. They love each other so much ugh)

There are many things - by imogenbynight - Words: 28,807 - Summary: In which Dean and Castiel learn, through trial and error, how to be together. (What starts out as an angsty fic that follows Cas’s human experience after Dean kicked him out of the bunker, turns into a Destiel falling in love fic as they find their way back to one another)

Sometimes it fits - by ballsdeepinwinchesters - Words: 37,720 - Summary: Castiel is an over-worked, socially awkward neurosurgeon; Dean is the ruggedly handsome paramedic that asks him out for drinks. The rest kind of fell into place. (Two hotties with busy work schedules having lots of sex and being domestic. It’s a lot of fluff and smut. No angst.)

Put up your dukes - by saltyfeathers - Words: 38, 282 - Summary: Dean can't sleep. Cas offers to tire him out. (Dean struggling to accept the sexual tension relief Castiel is oh-so-eager to offer. So much tension, sparring goodness and bed sharing.)

All’s well that ends well - englandwouldfall - Words: 52,326 - Summary: Dean knew the second he took off that he shouldn't have left, but that didn't mean he could have guessed what he'd be coming back home to. (It’s actually a part 4 of the series, and I do suggest reading the entire series, but I read it first and individually before even realizing this and I absolutely loved it nonetheless. It’s about both Dean and Cas having made some poor choices in the past, abandonment and infidelity and two of them loving each other so much that they’re willing to forgive and fight for each other no matter what. Angsty and beautiful.)

A midterms night’s dream - by englandwouldfall - Words: 75,756 - Summary: There's at least fifteen good reasons why they're not sleeping together, it's just that Dean can’t remember them when Cas sends him one second dirty snapchats to goad him into doing the dishes. (One of my absolutely favorite fics and one of my top 3 fic authors (does a lot of series, which gets you really emotionally invested!). I suggest you read literally every single Destiel story written by this author, ‘cause it’s consistent in character portrayal and in invoking emotional response and I’ll probably explicitly write down at least one more story that I particularly liked from them. This one’s about them being college roomates who’re basically oblivious to sharing sentiment of wanting to be in relationship with the other, so they pine emotionally while having exceptional we-are-strictly-fuck-buddies sex)

Version 2.0 - by elizabeth1985 - Words: 75,937 - Summary: Life is nothing but a series of processes. We rise, we work, we function within the walls we’ve designed for ourselves. Dean Winchester does not deviate from this system. Heavily tattooed and a certified genius; Dean necessitates control. Relationships are a no-go. Too messy, unpredictable. And yeah, he knows having casual sex with his best friend, roommate, and business partner is a dumbass move. But Cas’ suggestion is impossible to resist.What Dean doesn’t expect and couldn’t possibly predict is the unique way Cas manages to shut down his mile-a-minute mind, giving him a level of inner peace he’d thought to be unattainable.What starts out of convenience morphs into a dynamic emotional slide neither of them were prepared for, forcing them to decide what they’re willing to risk. (Cas and Dean being business partners turning to fuck buddies turning to mutually pining idiots, where Cas won’t let things progress further ‘cause Dean is so entwined in every single aspect of his life that he’s absolutely terrified to lose it all. But Dean makes an effort to show him otherwise!) + It’s hard to fool around in a tent (Words: 5,861)

Any little heartbreak - by followthattardis - Words: 76,897 - Summary: Dean Winchester knows everything there is to know about the human heart. Well. Anatomically speaking. (Very Grey’s Anatomy-y, Dean is a thriving cardiosurgeon, Cas is his new surgical nurse assistant, there are so many well written characters, so much gossip, gratuitous sex and eventually a relationship. It’s so lovely, ugh I love this writer.)

A crash course in computer safety - by followthattardis - Words: 85,269 - Summary: On the day of his 29th birthday, Dean receives an email from his old nemesis: Michael Milton, the guy who got him kicked out of college and stole his girlfriend. The email contains encoded images with top secret CIA/NSA intelligence – and now their only copy is in Dean’s brain. Both agencies send their best operatives – Castiel Novak and Victor Henriksen respectively – to handle their accidental asset and protect the invaluable data in his head. To justify their sudden appearance in Dean’s life, they adopt covers: Victor as Dean’s new co-worker and neighbor, Cas as his new boyfriend. Needless to say, Dean’s brother and his girlfriend are thrilled to see him in a relationship they believe to be real. Clearly, there’s no way this could go wrong. (This is a NBC: Chuck AU and one of my top 3 fics ever. I haven’t watched Chuck at all and regardless of whether you have or not, I don’t wanna write anything else in this section ‘cause I enjoyed discovering every bit of information on my own. I’ve literally taken this fic and studied/analyzed it as a writer myself to take pointers on accurate character portrayal and writing style. It’s book material, I’d literally buy anything this author writes. It’s becoming a series and more content is to come so I suggest subscribing.) + Curtain up (Words: 10,311)

La hantise (The only work in progress fic here) - by quiettewandering - Words: 87,468 - Summary: Castiel’s mother dies, leaving him the family home that sits abandoned on the moody coast of Maine. He’s forced to return to the past ghosts of his trauma, as well as meeting the mysterious and nomadic Dean Winchester. Dean offers to help Castiel fix up the house so he can sell it, which quickly becomes problematic as Castiel begins to develop feelings for Dean; especially when details of Dean’s troubling past come to light.This is a story about the sea, second chances, and two broken, forgotten people building a love between them while restoring a broken, forgotten house. (Romance, ghosts, house renovation, cliffhangers, angst - I am awful with WP’s, never read them till they’re done ‘cause I’m an impatient one but this is the one I couldn’t resist and thoroughly enjoy)

Ignore the butterflies: best friend advice from Dean Winchester - by impatient14 - Words: 114,837 - Summary: Dean likes his doctor, but his doctor doesn’t like him.Accidental friendship ensues, heartwarming bonding type moments occur, and oops!friends become best!friends.But best friends aren’t supposed to feel the way Dean feels about Castiel. He knows this. So he ignores all the things that he can’t help feeling. When he sits and watches a movie with his best friend or when they are arguing about which method of coffee brewing is best, he pointedly doesn’t look at his friends lips, or the adorable way he tilts his head when he doesn’t understand.Dean ignores his feelings.That’s the way he knows how to keep his best friend.Just ignore the butterflies. (Dean is a heroic firefighter who ends up in stand-offish Castiel’s ER and flirts mercilessly with him, but to no avail. Cas is not made of stone, though, he’s just trying to protect his little heart ‘cause Dean does scary heroic things. It’s super emotional, go read it.)

Keeping you in sight - by gingerswag - Words: 136,374 - Summary: Castiel valued his solitude, and was happy to stay hidden away in the mountains for the rest of his life. But when his seeing eye dog dies, that solitude is suddenly broken when Gabriel shows up not with another dog but an actual human slave. Castiel doesn't believe in slavery, but he can't turn away the very hurt and broken man he's given. (This is a slavery fic, look up the tag warnings! It’s extremely angsty, it has a very human and rational ending which not might satisfy those looking for a conclusive, expressed fairytale ending for these two. It’s about Dean having gone through a lot of trauma and Cas being extremely lonely and two of them trying to mend each other while going through an excruciatingly painful healing process. I don’t think I can summarize it in a way that envelops everything that happens in this fic - it’s a tougher read but absolutely wonderfully written and very angsty)

Stay with me, sweetheart - by mandalarose - Words: 142,926 - Summary: A single moment's distraction ends with a serious car accident that leaves Castiel trapped in his vehicle. Fortunately for him, fire fighter Dean Winchester is there, never leaving Castiel's side as the rest of his company work to free him from the mangled remains of his SUV.When the two meet again in the ICU, Castiel finds himself just as drawn to and comforted by the handsome fireman as he was during his accident. Dean is certainly attractive, but single father Castiel doesn't have time or space in his life for a romantic relationship.Then again, there's no harm in making a new friend, is there? (Dean is so whipped, so is Cas but he tries really hard not to get invested ‘cause everyone leaves and it’s not a commodity he can afford now that he’s got a baby. Thankfully for him, Dean is all-in kind of guy who’s gonna make all the right choices, one after another, fighting to show Cas that he can have what he desires and deserves, even after multiple attempts of Cas’s to push him away. Love conquers all!)

Four Letter Word for Intercourse - by bendingsignpost - Words: 194,739 - Summary: As a grease monkey turned college freshman, Dean's constantly three seconds away from being stressed out of his mind. It hardly helps that he's finally figuring out his sexuality in his thirties.What might help with that stress is a little phone number (and a big credit card bill). If he can't figure out how to be bisexual in person, he can at least give it a go over the phone, right? (I think I probably read this story a hundred times. Fantastically written fic where Dean is a student discovering his sexuality through a phone sex line, struggling with having to take over family business and Cas is a professor with a sidejob, with whom Dean interacts wordlessly at the library. It tackles on mental health, on wonderful sex dynamics, coming out and lots of other stuff. It’s one of the best writen fics out there, along with the other works in this series that I highly suggest to read: A Little Anal - Words: 18,805 and What makes a man kneel - Words: 9,920)

#destiel #deancas #supernatural #destiel fic #destiel fic rec

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lovelyladyventress · 4 years

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Tell me which one of these AUs sounds the most interesting and which one you’d like to read more about? (uhh rep0st?)

I’m reposting this since TUMBLR HATES MY POST/TAGS OR SOMETHING, SORRY IF YOU’VE ALREADY SEEN THIS!

Here I am, back at it again with my AU bullshit. Complete with my ugly ass dauntingly long list of AUs that I’d love to write about but can’t seem to

decide which one to start writing. This has been going on for the past week, dammit! If it’s not too much trouble, could you please help a girl out and let me know either on here or in a PM which one of these you’re curious about or would like to see implemented in an actual story.

Here are four Cloud-centric AU ideas which include (multiple) gay, bi, and (some) straight main/side pairings. Regardless of which one I decide to write first, I (wistful thinking) want to eventually complete most or all of them, even if some of them only end up being one-shots. Thank you! <3

Mercenary Zack and Delivery Boy Cloud AU

Zack, a mercenary, and Cloud, a delivery boy, have been best friends since they were youngsters. Zack is straight but is undeniably (and confusingly into Cloud. Cloud is bi (with a strong leaning towards males) and he’s only recently started to explore that. One day, while Zack and Cloud are hanging out, Zack’s PHS dies and he asks to borrow Cloud’s laptop to check some work-related emails. Cloud says sure, completely forgetting what he’d been “researching” before Zack came over to hang out.

Cloud, suddenly remembering the content of said “research”, screeches out, “NoOoOoO!” whilst comically tripping over himself as he races to stop Zack from opening his laptop.

Zack, being Zack, laughs good-naturedly at Cloud’s behavior and says, “What, don’t want your bestie to see all your fReAkY sHiT LOL?”

Before Cloud can stop him, Zack unlocks the laptop (he knows the password, because, hello, besties) and proceeds to open up about ten tabs of LOUD GAY LEMONY YOU KNOW WHAT (all with actors that are blond and black-haired, hmm s u s p i c i o u s).

Cloud is fucking mortified and literally RUNS out of his own apartment and disappears (disintegrates) into the void while leaving Zack sitting there like a stunned D U M B A S S *insert shocked Pikachu meme here* Hilarity, fluffy romance, and “LeMoNs” ensue.

Main ship and only ship will be Clack/Zakkura. Syrupy sweet, comical, with only a pinch of plot-related angst. Will most likely be a one-shot/two-shot.

Vampire Slayer AU

Set in a world where Shinra keeps the existence of vampires and vampire covens a well-guarded secret from the general public of Midgar in order to keep its citizens calm, orderly, and manageable (see controllable).

Due to the frequency of recent vampire attacks in Midgar’s slums and outlying towns and villages, they charge their best slayer, Cloud Strife, and his partner with the task of finding and killing the progenitor of all vampire-kind in order to end the covert war between humans and vampires and kill off their kind, for good.

That is, until Cloud is double-crossed by his partner, who wants the title of Shinra’s best vampire slayer for himself, and Cloud is left for dead in a forest miles away from civilization. Cloud thinks he’s finally done for this time, until he’s saved by a half-vampire named Vincent, who then proceeds to take Cloud to his maker, Sephiroth, the son of the first progenitor.

Cloud’s only shot at making it out of this alive is playing at Sephiroth’s personal interest in him in a game of cat and mouse until he can get the vampire to trust him enough to let him get close to the progenitor in order to (finally) end the war once and for all and return to his former life.

Main ships are Sefikura with a possibility of some Strifentine. Side ships are Aerti, Scarlet x Elena, and a bunch of others. Angsty, passionate, romantic, and dark. Will probably be a six-shot or more. Who knows?

Life After Meteorfall Canon Divergence AU (I’m excited about this one)

An AU in which both Angeal, Zack, and Aerith (although, just barely) live and help kick Sephiroth’s ass in the final battle. Sephiroth has been defeated by the gang for good (no really, for good y’all), and now the world has turned to healing, mourning, and attempting to rebuild itself after the scars Sephiroth has left behind in his monstrous wake.

Cloud still has lingering feelings for Zack leftover from his time as an infantryman, but desperately hides this fact from both Aerith and Zack because he knows how long they’ve waited and how much suffering they’ve had to endure in order to be with each other. He also cares deeply for both of them and wants them to be happy, despite his own conflicting emotions.

Although Aerith is (slightly) suspicious, Zack is oblivious to it all because he’s finally got the girl of his dreams and has his love-addled goggles on (god dammit Zackary) and asks Cloud to be his best man at their wedding (ugh angst me upppppp baby).

Angeal, however, is not oblivious to it in the slightest. He sees the overly forced smiles, the longing stares, the glances of complete and utter h e a r t b r e a k Cloud shoots Zack when he thinks no one is watching/paying attention to him. And finally, fed up after months of sitting back and just silently observing Cloud falling into emotional ruin, Angeal finally intends to do something about it, honor be damned.

Main ship is Cloudgeal. Side pairings are Zerith, Rude x Tifa (don’t judge me, y’all, I ship SO MUCH this fandom), and possibly many more. Angsty, fluffy, romantic, and with a ridiculously happy ending where everyone reaches a happy, healthy understanding. Will most likely be either a three-shot or a six-shot.

Omegaverse SOLDIER AU (let me liveeeeeee, dammit!)

After failing to get into SOLDIER three times in a row (the max amount of times one can attempt in their lifetime) and having his childhood dream of becoming a hero shattered like glass, Cloud, a Beta cadet, is more than done with SOLDIER and everything to do with the corrupt Shinra Corporation (Uh huh. Suuuuure).

This opinion is only further solidified when Cloud discovers the tragic fate of his hometown: Nibelheim, in an “unprecedented” explosion of its Mako Reactor, burns to the ground, resulting in the deaths of Cloud’s mother and every single person Cloud grew up with. With no home to return to, Cloud, following his best friend Zack Fair’s advice, begrudgingly decides to join the Shinra military as an infantryman and work as a menial grunt for the military’s more prominent SOLDIER members.

That is, until one day during a mission Cloud’s entire unit, including a group of skilled Third and Second Class SOLDIERS assisting them, are slaughtered in a brutal, bloody conflict, leaving Cloud the only one left alive after the mission’s end.

This not only catches the eye of the Director of SOLDIER himself, but several of its First Class members, who are so impressed with the Beta’s strength that they wish to assess Cloud’s capabilities for themselves, personally. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

This leads Cloud down a path filled with convincing lies and hard truths as he discovers the reality of his origins, unveiling secrets about Shinra and his past that he could have gone a lifetime without knowing. He realizes the hard way that sometimes what you dream for, what you desperately wish for, isn’t always something you want in the long run.

Main ships are a tie between Sefikura and Clack/Zakkura (possibly Sephiroth/Cloud/Zack or maybe even a love triangle, ew). I also really wanna try writing out Strifesodos, but I’m leaning towards Banorashipping as a side ship in this cuz its cute and passionate.

A S T R O N G side ship in this is going to be Aerti (featuring Turk!Tifa and Full Cetra!Aerith), along with minor ships like Scarlet x Elena, Tseng x Rufus, and honestly who knows anymore, lol. This will most likely be the longest story on the list, I’m planning for at least ten+ chapters.

Also, not shaming it in any way, but just FYI for the people who are interested, there will be no pregnancy in this story. It’s just not my thing. <3

Again, all of these AU’s are subject to change, but I’d love to bounce ideas back and forth and see what certain shippers would like to see in the fandom. I’m really receptive to discussing fics in general, even if its an idea about one of your own stories you wanna talk about. :)

If you actually read all of that, THANK YOU KINDLY! <33333

#Sefikura #SephCloud #Clack #Zakkura #Cloudgeal #i'm seriously so angry about this tagging thing #WHY IS IT NOT WORKING #*SCREAMS*#IM JUST TRYNA LIVE DAMMIT #why did this post disappear #I THINKS ITS BECAUSE OF CERTAIN KEYWORDS #this is a travesty #I NEED ANSWERS #the text is wonky too #UGHHHHHH

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just-absolutely-super · 4 years

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Don’t Stop When You Get That Feeling Now

@soulxmakaweek (tagging the blog because i don’t trust tumblr’s faulty tagging system)

Trying my hand at SoMa Week this year. Here’s the first prompt: Dare.

Summary: In which Black Star gives Maka a challenge during a game of Truth or Dare.

FF.net // AO3

Maka felt her eye twitch. She really hated it when Black Star roped her into these silly games…

"C'mon, Maka. Truth or Dare?" the assassin asked. He had a large, cocky grin on his face that gave Maka the urge to punch it right off.

She sighed, knowing that whatever she picked was not going to end with her dignity intact. Should she pick truth, Black Star would make her confess to every embarrassing detail about her life possible. And should she pick dare, no doubt he'd force her into some silly stunt that would end in bruises—be it her pride or her actual skin, you never know with Black Star's dares…

Despite this, she knew when she was being challenged. She wasn't one to back down from a challenge, her blue haired friend would never let her live it down otherwise.

"Dare." She said, confidence in her voice.

Black Star cackled, an evil glint in his eyes. He placed a hand to his chin as he exaggeratedly thought over what dare he could make his poor friend perform. Maka scowled as she waited for him to make up his mind.

It seemed the other party guests were getting impatient too. Kid had his arms crossed, a finger tapping his forearm—his blank stare had some warning in it, like he was waiting to intervene should Black Star go too far with his dares. Liz looked rather bored, studying her nails as she glanced back up every now and then to make sure she didn't miss anything. Patty sat next to her, fighting off giggles as she tried to remain serious in anticipation for the self-proclaimed God's dare.

The only ones who weren't present for the game were Soul and Tsubaki and that was because they offered to do a snack run when it became apparent the scythe meister and her weapon's pantries were looking rather bare.

Maka regretted not offering to go with them. Picking out a variety of junk food would have been so much better than waiting for the maniac she called her childhood friend to seal her fate with an outlandish dare.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, Black Star placed his fist into his open palm.

"Alright, I got it! The best dare for our little Maka!"

Maka bristled. So it didn't look like she was going to grow anymore despite being in her late teens. The jackass didn't have to rub it in.

"Just get on with it already." She growled.

"Prepare yourself, Maka! I, the great Black Star, dare you to…"

Ugh, he was really milking this wasn't he? What was he waiting for, a drum roll?

Idiot…

"Kiss the most attractive person in this room!" he finished, a satisfied grin on his face.

Everyone in the room gawked at him.

"That's… That's it?" she asked, not sure if she should be on high alert for a follow up dare.

Liz smirked, rubbing her hands together, "Oh, Truth or Dare just got a little more interesting. I'm eager to see which of us you find attractive, Maka."

She and her sister shared a laugh and Maka felt her cheeks burn.

"This is a rather tame dare, Black Star." Kid pointed out. He too looked as if he were expecting the assassin to pull a fast one.

"Believe me, I have a ton of dares in mind for tonight." Black star said, chuckling darkly, "But I felt I should start out small before working my way up to the big ones. And knowing Maka, what's more humiliating that being forced to kiss someone in front of everyone."

Maka felt a vein pop as Black Star laughed boisterously. She felt her fingers twitching for a book. Of course Black Star was aiming to embarrass her. He knew she had never had a boyfriend therefore couldn't have possibly kissed anyone before. And considering Maka tended to over-think everything, she'd probably be a bundle of nerves at the thought of kissing someone in front of everybody—especially since they would know she found them attractive.

The only problem that stuck out in her mind, though, was the fact that the one person she really did find attractive was currently not in the room and therefore did not meet the dare requirements.

Someone strike her down where she stood, please.

Before she could make a split decision (either chop Black Star's brains open or just bite the bullet and kiss the next available person in the room who she considered attractive), she heard the door swing open.

"We're back." Came the lazy voice of her weapon.

"Sorry we're late!" Tsubaki said as she made her way into the kitchen, "We weren't sure what snacks everyone wanted and I noticed Maka and Soul were almost out of eggs and juice, so we went ahead and bought some more necessities for the apartment."

"Oh, thanks." Maka said distractedly. She felt anxious, eyeing the living room's entryway and Black Star—who was still giving her that annoying grin as he raised his eyebrows in a "Well?" gesture.

"Did we miss anything?" Soul asked as he walked into the room, depositing multiple bags of different flavored chips onto the coffee table. As he raised his head up to survey the room he noticed that everyone—particularly his meister—was staring at him.

He gave them a perplexed look, "What? Something on my face?"

Maka whirled around to Black Star, "Same conditions apply to the dare?"

She didn't care what this would be indicating to her friends. Didn't bother to think of the repercussions, really. She had the opportunity right in front of her—she was gonna take it!

Black Star smirked, knowing exactly what Maka was thinking. He waved his hand in Soul's general direction, "Same conditions apply."

"What are you—?"

Before Soul could ask any more questions, Maka jumped off of her seat and bounded over to him. There was a determined glint her in eyes as she stared her weapon down. Soul stared blankly back.

"I was dared to do something and I want to do it with you. Is that okay?" Well, she figured she'd ask first…

Her weapon tilted his head, one eyebrow raised, "Uhh, sure, I guess, but what—"

He was cut off when Maka suddenly grabbed the lapels of his leather jacket and pulled him down to her level. Everyone else in the living room were on the edges of their seats, only to sag in crushing disappointment when they saw that instead of Maka planting her lips on Soul's, she instead went for his cheek.

With an audible smack, Maka pulled away from her weapon's face. She groaned in embarrassment as she hid her burning face into her hands in hopes that she could spontaneously turn invisible.

"Lame!" Black Star complained. "I was expecting some major lip action, Maka!"

Maka uncovered her face briefly to glare at him, "You just said I had to kiss the most attractive person in the room. You never said where I had to kiss them!"

Kid snorted, "She's got a point, Black Star."

Black Star grumbled, "Whatever. But I'll get you next time, I swear on my God status."

Maka stuck her tongue out at him. She then felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning around, she gave a small squeak when she was faced with Soul. Oh crap, she forgot about him. She felt shame take over her. Even though he told her she could do whatever it was she wanted to do to him, she still felt like maybe she had breached his trust in some way.

She avoided eye contact, waiting for him to reprimand her for jumping him and thus humiliating him in front of all their friends.

"You missed."

Huh?

"Huh?" she voiced.

Soul indicated to the cheek she had just kissed, which had taken on a rosy hue she noticed. "You missed."

She raised an eyebrow at him. What was he getting at? He should have heard what she told Black Star, that the condition was to kiss someone, but it wasn't specified where exactly. He should have known her aim was to kiss his cheek to make things less awkward between them.

So why was he…

Ooooh.

"Umm," she started, trying to be coy and keep her cool even though that ship had long since sailed since she agreed to the dare, "where should I have gone, then?"

Her weapon gave her a lopsided grin, "Here. Let me show you…"

He took her face and guided it to his, molding his lips firmly over hers. Maka sighed, feeling lightheaded and giddy as her weapon kissed her.

"Hell yeah! That's what I'm talking about!"

"Black Star, hush! I'm trying to enjoy this!" Liz scolded, taking out her phone to capture the moment.

Patty laughed as she clapped her hands in delight while Kid gave a pleased sigh.

It was then that Tsubaki came into the living room from the kitchen. Her jaw dropped open as she stared flabbergasted at the scene of Maka and Soul snogging in the middle of the living room while everyone else practically applauded them like some cheesy romcom movie. The game of Truth or Dare long forgotten in favor of said development.

She blinked, "What did I miss?"

#soma #soul x maka #soulxmakaweek #somaweek2020 #somaweek #soul eater evans #maka albarn #soul eater #my writing

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thesunnyshow · 4 years

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Name: hi, i am nyx Age: 20 years old Writing Blog URL(s): jungcity.tumblr.com | v-asl.tumblr.com

Nationality: filipino Languages: english, filipino Star Sign: pisces! MBTI: infp-t Favorite color: white accentuated by silver Favorite food: it’s sweet and spicy chicken garlic!! Favorite movie: hmmm, it’s prolly flipped because that movie was so cute :,) Favorite ice cream flavor: rocky road!! Favorite animal: it’s gonna be cats!! although i love lions so much because of narnia :,( Coffee or tea? What are you ordering? coffee :,) Go-to karaoke song: i don’t sing agskh the world would end if i would

What has been one of the biggest factors of your success (of any size)? i think it’s me writing about jaehyun??? since he’s the king of fanfiction, especially in ncity nowadays.

What fandom(s) do you write for? nct + wayv

When did you post your first piece? three days ago!! that would be august 4 i guess???

Do you write fluff/angst/crack/general/smut, combo, etc? Why? i don’t really much write fluff since i don’t have any idea how to write a good fluff!! :( this has been an issue every time i write some au’s. so im always ending up writing and focusing more on angst. it’s the genre i know best. well, crack… it’s hard to make the readers laugh when you can’t even make their tooth ache from sweetness with your fluffy writings. :( smut… i don’t write smut explicitly any more. i’m more on the suggestive side rn.

Do you write OCs, X Readers, Ships...etc i write OC’s especially when im writing a series!! to diversify my writing. but i usually am on the x reader side. ships? not that much.

Why did you decide to write for Tumblr? uhm, back in 2017, i was searching for some website where i could publish my works. ive always been a tumblr-girl since i am that wanna-be-aesthetic kinda person :D then i had found that i could write and publish on tumblr so yeah that’s pretty much why i am on this app rn

What inspires you to write? ooh, music has been a great help for sure!! whenever i don’t feel like writing something, i always listen to music and the idea would flow like a river. classic poems helps, too. :)

What genres/AUs do you enjoy writing the most? supernatural!au’s, fantasy!au, medieval!au. i feel like it’s easier to write something out of pure fantasy. i have a hard time writing modern!au’s since i lack the humor and the knowledge for modern slangs.

What do you hope your readers take away from your work? ooh, i always always always am careful with the way that i craft all my works. i try to feel what my characters feel to give them a certain validation. i put my shoes on the scenarios i have in mind even though i haven’t yet experienced everything ive written. and i do love writing strong female characters, whether it’s oc’s or female readers. that’s my main priority whenever i write. and i want them to know that girls could do just as much everything boys could. women are powerful.

What do you do when you hit a rough spot creatively? i read a lot to get back on my foot. i also try to re-read my past works so i’d be inspired to better my writing on my current draft.

What is your favorite work and why? Your most successful? my favorite work is the one i’m still writing rn, which is entitled 505. it’s a hendery fic in which he is a bandit and the female reader is a sacristan. it’s my fave since i relate myself so much to the female reader. :) my most successful one is the childhood best friends!au taeyong x female reader. it’s about to reach 600+ notes i guess? and im so grateful of all the feedbacks i got from it.

Who is your favorite person to write about? it’s jaehyun and hendery :)

Do you think there’s a difference between writing fanfiction vs. completely original prose? character wise, perhaps. since you already have a face value in fanfiction, but in an original prose, you would have to craft everything from 0.

What do you think makes a good story? a good story is something that doesn’t romanticize the bad things going on in the world. a good story is something that is emphatic to the hardships of others. a good story is something that gives comfort to those who are in the dark. a good story is something that boosts the hearts of the readers and makes them feel things!!

What is your writing process like? first, i think of a plot! (this happens oftentimes when im washing the dishes) when i have the plot, i think of the ending. when i have the ending, it’s time for me to device a fitting title. and the plot would develop from then on.

Would you ever repurpose a fic into a completely original story? i don’t think so… this is scary. since some people think of fanfics as delusional works from delusional authors. it’s kinda sad.

What tropes do you love, and what tropes can’t you stand? i love love love enemies-to-lovers trope!! one that i couldn’t stand and do my best to not read is probably… hmm… no, i love all tropes!! i just love e-t-l most!

How much would you say audience feedback/engagement means to you? it means a ton. since it could really boosts me up. heavy sigh. it’s the best thing when you write something— the feedbacks. even though it’s a simple reblog with the ‘#ATKSHSKSHSKAHAKSGAHGEGSJA’ or ‘#myfave’. i would smile like an idiot whenever i read it.

Dream job (whether you have a job or not)? i want to be a successful writer someday!

If you could have one superpower, what would you choose? teleportation!!

If you could visit a historical era, which would you choose? ancient greek + victorian era

If you could restart your life, knowing what you do now, would you? yes!! im so hell deep in indecision right now so i want to restart to make everything right

Would you rather fight 100 chicken-sized horses or one horse-sized chicken? 100 chicken-sized horses!!

If you were a trope in a teen high school movie, what would you have been? enemies-to-lovers trope agsksj LOL

Do you believe in aliens/supernatural creatures? YES!!! perhaps they are lurking somewhere here on earth and we don’t know it yet ;)

Fun fact about yourself that not everyone would know? oh… i don’t really know what to write. i don’t give much attention to my personal details agsksj

Do you think fanfic writers get unfairly judged? yes!! ugh, there’s this recent issue wherein stan twt called fanfic writers as freaks. and it broke my heart. i mean, most fanfic writers get inspirations from their idols and that shouldn’t be a bad thing. we aren’t delusionals as one might think. we are simply doing our craft.

Do you think art can be a medium for change? yes!! our country’s hero ‘jose rizal’ had somehow stirred the nationality of the people back in the old days because of his writings. i do believe that art changes things!! it has the ability to pierce the heart of the people.

Do you ever feel there are times when you’re writing for others, rather than yourself? yes. i feel this whenever im writing smut. i mean, let’s be real, your works would do better once you’ve included some steamy smut scenes in it. when i was writing my first fanfic after three years, i didn’t think that i’d ever include smut. but the fear of not getting feedbacks crept up in me, so i forced myself to write some sexy scenes. i know that’s like… weird. but i’m trying not to dwell on feedbacks any longer. and i also have decided not to write explicit smut anymore. honestly, i feel better now that i don’t force myself to do something that i think would please others rather than me.

Do you ever feel like people have misunderstood you or your writing at times? uhm, as far as i can remember, nope— still hasn’t felt that way. :)

Do your offline friends/loved ones know you write for Tumblr? yes!! my best friends irl knows about it. my sister knows. my parents are also aware of my passion in writing, and they do know that i write. but where and what, that remains obscured from them :D

What is one thing you wish you could tell your followers? that it’s okay to be vulnerable. it’s okay to make mistakes. it’s okay to fail sometimes. it’s okay to feel things. because like a good book, there is always a character development and you have the pen to write your own version of happy endings.

Do you have any advice for aspiring writers who might be too scared to put themselves out there? i’ve been there: the scared and conscious part. but one thing i would say is, you have to dare yourself!! you won’t know how your writing would have impacted so many lives and touch the hearts of people if you won’t grab your pen or your gadget and start your draft.

Are there any times when you regret joining Tumblr? nope, there aren’t. the community has been lovely to me ever since i started writing. :,)

Do you have any mutuals who have been particularly formative/supportive in your Tumblr journey? yes!! oh my god. i’d like to take this opportunity to thank my mutuals who’s done me nothing but kindness— @legendnct (hannah), whoo!! you know how much i love you, right? thank you for always being there to listen to me. :) @cloudysuh des, since day one you’ve supported me. i couldn’t ask for more. thank you for the never-ending praises, keyboard smashes, for the tags, and for always boosting me up. @bohoes georgie, you know i love you. since 2017 you’ve been with me— praising my works and supporting me. thank you. @cherr-e cherry!! thank you!! for teaching me how to better my writing. i hope endless happiness for u and please take care. @writermoon hello my babe!! thank you so much for reading my works with such vivid imaginations. i love you. @jaeyongf amy!! the bestest person :,) thank you for always leaving me feedbacks!! thank you for being kind to me. thank you for always supporting me. i love you guys so much and let’s be mutuals for a long time!!

Pick a quote to end your interview with:

“If the world hated you, and believed you wicked, while your own conscience approved you, and absolved you from guilt, you would not be without friends.” — Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë

#@jungcity #@v-asl #thesunnyshow #featuredauthor #episode 22 #nct #wayv

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inkjackets · 4 years

Text

30 Questions About Me

thanks for tagging me @apopcornkernel and @authenticcadence18!!!

Name: clare

Gender: cis female

Star sign: virgo

Height: 168cm (5′6″)

Time: 9:40pm

Birthday: 8th september

Fave band/group: hmm i don’t really have favs but recently i’ve been listening to a lot of Oh Wonder and ANIMA!

Fave solo artists: again no real favs but right now i’m loving dodie and mxmtoon

Song stuck in my head: ah now i’ve mentioned mxmtoon i’ve got ‘no faker’ stuck in my head haha

Last movie: uhhhh either the muppets christmas carol or the greatest showman, can’t remember which was last, but im literally about to watch the live action mulan for reasons

Last show: Normal People

When did I create this blog: uhhhh hold up lemme check... April 2016! ugh i’ve been in this fandom too long aha

What do I post: mostly ml reblogs and stuff but i write and post fics too! (especially over the last year, i think i wrote more last year than the previous three years combined lmao) i also post the odd bit of art :)

Last thing I googled: uh how to work out averages in excel haha (i’m trying to track my writing progress this year)

Other blogs: @inkjackets-original!! this is a blog for my original short stories and pieces of flash fiction :D

Do I get asks: yeah sometimes! especially when I reblog ask games or ask for fic requests, i’ll always get a couple <3

Why I chose this url: so back in the year 2016 i fell stupidly hard into a stupid show called Miraculous Ladybug and through it i discovered FANFICTION (i’d like obvs heard of it before, but never engaged with it) and anyway after a while reading amazing fics i discovered to my horror/delight that i wanted to WRITE IT TOO sooooo i decided to create a tumblr! and since this was intended to be a sort of writing blog i wanted to come up with a writing/book related username and came up with inkjackets – after all books are just pages of ink wrapped in dust jackets! (though like i said before until last year i never actually did much writing lol)

Following: 802

Followers: 415 <3

Average amount of sleep: anywhere between 6-10, it changes daily

Lucky number: i don’t really have one? i usually just say 7. or 13 if i’m feeling controversial hahaha

Instruments: i don’t really play anything :( but i like to sing! i’m nothing special but i’ve always been a part of school choirs and stuff :)

What I’m wearing: thick long-sleeved stripy top and dungarees

Dream job: ah a question i still hate at the age of 25 (: i seriously have no idea!! part of me wants to be an author and have a chill time writing in the countryside all day, but i also love being outdoors and would love to continue being an activity instructor doing fun and adventurous things forever, but then i also want to get a fancy job in the city running around being busy and important!! i just want to do a bit of everything you know?

Dream trip: i’d love to do rural asia, especially china, to see all the cool mountains and beautiful scenery they have there

Fave food: noodlesssss!! give me any sort of asian noodle dish and i’ll love you forever

Nationality: British and Australian

Fave songs: hmm some songs i never get bored of are ‘Boys Like You’ by dodie, ‘Who We Are’ by Imagine Dragons and ‘Blood’ by ANIMA!. right now i’m also obsessed with ‘Undertow’ by Lisa Hannigan (who, fun fact, voices blue diamond in su!)

(bonus song: i’ve also been listening to ‘walk but in a garden’ by mxmtoon so much recently cause it gives such good lockdown chill vibes)

Last book I read: Children of Time by Adrian Tchaivosky, a really really well done (if kinda unsettling) sci-fi novel, but ngl i want to talk about the book i read before that which is An Absolutely Remarkable Thing (and its sequel) by Hank Green which was FANTASTIC like hands down one of the best books i’ve read in a long time and if you’re looking for something fun and easy while also tackling serious real world problems (like the dangers of social media) then i HIGHLY recommend it, like honestly even if that’s not something you’re looking just go read it anyway!!!

Top 3 fictional universes I’d love to live in: 1. Harry Potter. kinda goes without saying haha, i want to be able to do magic 2. ATLA, (like only if i’m a bender tho lol) 3. hmm Chronicles of Ancient Darkness. It was one of my fav serious as a kid and I always longed to live in that sort of intelligent pre-historic age, and the world michelle paver creates feels so damn realistic, and i just feel like i’d thrive in that sort of world, tbh (i think the adhd would help lmao)

thank you so much for tagging me!! that was loads of fun ^^ i’m not gonna tag anyone but if you want to do this game go ahead and tag me in it!!

#tag game #30 questions about me #about me #don't mind me rambling #long post

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kittymsmithwritesstuff · 4 years

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The Owls of Suotamo (WraithxCrypto)

AO3 link: click here

Word count: 5.5k

Ship: WraithxCrypto “cryptaith”

Summary

When Wraith gets on the transport to Suotamo to apologize to Crypto, she never thought it would end like this.

Commission page on my tumblr! And a big thank you to @sigmatauris for beta reading!

Tags: cryptaith, craith, voidhacker, fluff and humor, first date, first kiss, cute, accidental relationship, drinking and talking, friends to lovers, rated t because Wraith says fuck

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“You find out you have a name, and you don’t even want it?” He’d said.

“What do I want with something I don’t even remember? I’m not Renee, I’m Wraith. That’s who I’ve been for the last six years.”

“Glad you were afforded the luxury of choice,” he’d clipped, moving his arms like he was going to throw his hands in the air, but being they were in his pockets he just ended up flapping his coat. Wraith had laughed—she’d not meant to be mean, but he reminded her of a disgruntled owl fluffing itself. He’d left without a word, and it’d taken her a couple mystified minutes to realize she’d hurt him. Though it was usually the other way around, she went to Elliott to ask what she should do.

“Uh, say sorry?” He’d looked at her like she was stupid. She was, of course, but Wraith hardly let herself think like that. The voices created a rather nasty echo chamber sometimes.

“That’s it?”

“Hey, I’m the one that makes ridiculous grand gestures, not you, remember? It’d be out of character.” He’d grinned.

Wraith had to agree, but nobody knew where Crypto lived—if he lived anywhere at all, really—so she had to wait until the next game. She hated giving out apologies at the best of times, but this time it was particularly nerve wracking. The voices were always a bit scrambled around him, but right now it was almost unbearable. “Hey, I’m sorry about last week.”

He rolled his eyes. Usually she’d ignore him as well, but she felt compelled, which was strange. Were the voices persuading her somewhere in their jumbled madness? Was there a reason?

“It wasn’t what you said.” She added. “I mean, I wasn’t laughing at you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What were you laughing at?”

“I was—“ The alarm rang for the start of the match. Crypto began to move to join his squad and thinking she might not get the chance again until next week shot an uncharacteristic bolt of panic through her. “Wait!”

He hesitated, just slightly, the alarm ringing again insistently. “Meet me at 6th later, if you care that much.”

“Where the fuck is 6th?”

He joined his squad, not even looking at her. The voices scrambled so hard they became a ringing in her ear. The cherry on top was being matched with two randos and dying before even reaching the last ten.

If there was a God, and they were trying to teach her a lesson for…whatever reason, well, she got the point, alright?

She didn’t stay to watch the livestream, going straight to her tiny apartment and the three screaming furballs that tripped her soon as she entered. She gave them their due pets, replying to their meows with much more enthusiasm than she ever replied to her human family. She got into the shower, breathing deeply.

You guys gonna tell me where 6th is? Has to be a street, right? The voices replied in a jumble of no’s and yes’s. When she tried to clear out what the yes’s were saying, it just came out as, finally, so slow, good, and memory. Odd. She stood in the shower so long thinking about it, she didn’t even realize the water had gone cold. After she shivered her way into a bathrobe, letting her uncombed hair airdry, she started scrolling through all the 6th streets, avenues, roads and boulevards in Solace City, but it didn’t seem right—she didn’t even know if he lived on Solace, they never really talked about their personal lives. She bit her lip, thinking. Did anyone know where he lived? Chatty, a voice whispered. Right, she should text Elliott.

Ugh. For someone who could never shut up face to face, Elliott was one of the most succinct texters she’d ever met. She went ahead and Googled it, finding it about a half-hour from Solace if taking a mega-speed transport. Then she Googled 6th in Suotamo. One street popped up. 6th.

Not 6th Street, not 6th Avenue, just 6th.

Motherfucker.

She pulled on a large, shapeless sweater and leggings, grabbed her keys and phone, and headed to the station. She didn’t really question the fact she was going to all this effort just to apologize. Perhaps some part of her had just figured it was good to have Crypto on her side; word was he had built all sorts of connections, so maybe he could be useful later. Or she just didn’t want to have that awkward conflict when working on a team. It was hard enough watching Loba and Bangalore on the same team, and she didn’t want that kind of disruption on the field—though she didn’t think he was that petty. He was professional, like her, and quiet, unlike 2 of her top 3, which could be nice when Elliott had his chatterbox days.

The longer she spent in the rumbling transport seat, however, the more she let herself admit a creeping truth: maybe she just liked him.

Suotamo was all industrialism; skyscrapers and towering housing blocks with tiny balconies and smaller windows. In the twilight, electric signs were flickering to life, making a delightful buzz that dampened the voices and cast a great array of color into the street puddles. Her sneakers clattered over perforated sheet metal laid before the crosswalks as she made her way from 4th Street to 5th Avenue, and finally to 6th. The corner she landed on was directly across from a crusty dirt lot with a chain link fence that had been broken and rolled down on one side like a rug. Down one street was a mass of tall neon signs in Hangul; judging by the smell, it was mostly food. The other side was dilapidated housing and a convenience store whose name was also in hangul. She hugged a streetlight pole, looking around with wide eyes as people passed by.

Yes, she was a professional murderer for a living. But she was also a small woman in a strange city, unarmed, where everyone seemed to speak every language but English.

But her nerves were soon soothed when she saw him across the street. She cocked her head to the side when she processed what he was wearing. All of his usual hacker—y looking necklaces, but instead of that stupid vest he wore all the time it was an oversized gray shirt with a green bomber jacket, also one size too big. Slim black joggers emphasized how skinny he really was, and vans pulled together the city—boy look. It…looked really good on him. And fit in with everyone else in the area. Smart.

He cocked his head back at her, which was how she came to realize she was doing that in the first place. She glanced both ways before jogging over. “Hi.”

“Annyeonghaseyo.” He bent his head, nearly entering a bow. He was wearing a small silver stud in one ear.

“Didn’t know you were into fashion.”

“You think I’d be stupid enough to wear my gear out here?”

“I— it’s just, the only thing I see you in.”

He gave her a once over, possibly a little slower than needed, according to a voice. She told that voice to shut up. “I can say the same for you.” He crossed his arms. “Now, what were you talking about on the dropship?”

Shit, the apology. The entire reason she was there. How had she forgotten that? She’d just sort of focused on the fact they were actually meeting outside of work. “I only laughed because I, uh, because I was picturing you as an angry owl in my head.”

Well. That certainly startled him. “What?”

“Y’know. An owl. Cacaw,” she flapped her arms slightly, realizing she’d been hanging out with Elliott too much. “Like, uh…wait, that’s not an owl noise.”

“Owls hoot.” He said.

She swallowed hard, her stomach twisting around. If it wasn’t for the city noise, she’d be screaming with all the talking going on in her head, beating in tandem with her heart. “I just— when you, you hand your hands in your pockets and kind of flapped them, and your jacket was like, wings, I guess, and I just…saw an angry owl in my head and it was funny. I’m sorry.”

He paused. “What kind of owl?”

“A snowy owl,” she said immediately. “With glasses. I dunno why glasses, you don’t wear them.”

“I do, actually.”

She blinked. “Oh.” A beat. “Can I see?”

He raised both eyebrows. She expected to be rejected—he had to be wearing contacts so why would he even have the glasses with hi—oooookay he had them on him, buried deep in a pocket. Thick black rimmed ones. He popped them on, and warmth burst in her belly as she realized, to her horror, that he was cute.

“I look like a nerd, huh?” There was light amusement in his voice, a rarity. He moved to take them off.

“No!” She said, far too quickly and far too loudly, startling her and him both. “I mean, you look cu—great, you look really good in them.”

He eyed her a moment, slowly lowering his hand. “Really?”

“Really.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and shifted a little awkwardly, looking off. She stared at her shoes until she heard him clear his throat. He looked down on her, not quite as much as Elliott, but he probably had a good five inches on her. “Do you like noodles?”

“Yeah?”

He shifted again, stance somewhere between a soldier ready for war and an awkward teenage boy. “Do you…want to go get some? I know a good place.”

She was too stunned to really react at all. “Sounds good.”

And like that, they were walking toward the neon signs, side by side. A little further from each other than was probably normal, though when others would pass by on the narrow sidewalk, Crypto would lean in, and she’d get the slightest waft of—holy shit, was that Axe? But it smelled good? Last time she’d smelled Axe she’d gotten a headache because Octavio had used it instead of a shower before a game, but this stuff was crisp, a little lemony, she had to try her best not to inhale loudly whenever he got close.

They came to some little hole in the wall that Crypto had to duck to walk into. Booths pressed as closely together as possible, tables crowding the floor and every seat at a bar filled, faint K—pop weaving around voices and noodle slurping. When they sat at the booth nearest the back, their shoes touched because it was so small. She expected to get a menu, but instead the server came over and said something in Korean to Crypto.

“Do you drink?” He asked.

“Uh, yeah?”

“Like soju?”

“I have no idea what that is.” He shrugged and said something to the waiter. He poured them two glasses of iceless water and left. Crypto pressed himself into the corner of the wall, one leg along the length of the seat, the other on the floor. Wraith also scooched into the corner, she always liked to, and seeing someone else do it made her feel less weird. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. She fidgeted with her fingers. “Um. So. Weather.”

“I hate small talk.”

“Oh thank God, me too.” She saw it, almost a smile. “Bring up something interesting, you know?”

“Yes, like what kind of owl you are.”

She blushed, looking away. “Shut up.”

“I think you’re a spotted owl.” He sipped his water.

She would never hear the end of it if Elliott had been there, because she perked up like a puppy. “Why?”

“Feels right.”

“Fair enough.” She started sliding the soy sauce bottle between her hands, then glanced up at him and slid it his way. He raised an eyebrow and slid it back. They kept it up while talking. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Do not expect an answer.”

“Just…what to call you. Besides Crypto.”

He warmed the soy sauce bottle with his hands before passing it back. Monkey brain Wraith had the passing thought that it was almost kind of sort of not really like holding hands. “Hyeon. It’s not my…real name.”

She nodded. “I figured. You gotta be cautious, even if they know, to a point.”

He sat up a little, some part of him smoothing out; Wraith couldn’t see it, but she could sense it. The voices, so scattered, like TV static, reduced themselves to a buzz in the back of her head. “Yah. I do.”

The soju came first. A green bottle and two shot glasses, which Crypto—Hyeon? She’d keep Crypto mentally, for now—he poured while saying, “Youngest pours first, traditionally. And you pass it with two hands and take it with two hands.” He held the shot glass and passed it to Wraith, who made sure to use both hands. He seemed entertained. “You don’t have to do it that way every time, though.”

“That’s fascinating,” she said, truthfully. “Why so specific?”

“All relates to the old ways things were done, back on Earth. So many cultures got jumbled together in the Frontier, but at least in Sutoamo, Koreans have kept most of theirs.” He paused before knocking back the shot like a professional. Elliott would be eating his hat if he was there. “It’s traditional not to sip the first shot.”

She raised an eyebrow—the corner of his mouth was twitching, thinking of smiling. He was enjoying this. Well, she was too. She braced herself and knocked back the whole thing, surprised by the flavor—a bit like a sweet vodka, with a hint of strawberry. She almost didn’t cough. “Wow, that’s something.”

“You like it?”

“I think I do.”

He smirked and poured for her again, then himself, sipping this time. “You’re not supposed to leave a friend’s glass empty, either.”

She smelled it—sweet, crisp. Definitely strawberry. “So, we’re friends?”

He seemed to think a moment and downed that shot as well before speaking. “I’ll consider it. At the very least I don’t look so sad drinking with someone else for once.” From the look on his face, that was soju—fueled word vomit. “It’s just against tradition to drink alone, people think there’s something wrong with you,” he added hastily.

“Right.” She didn’t get a chance to screw that up as a bowl of steaming noodles was placed in front of her. They were dark glass noodles, and there were vegetables, and meat. That’s all she knew. The waiter also gave her a fork, but not Crypto.

“Japchae,” he said, snapping apart the wooden chopsticks. “It’s usually a side—dish, but it’s all they make here. It’s a stir fry.”

“Hell yeah.” That actually got a chuckle out of him, and she knew it wasn’t just the soju making her feel warm. Her focus was stolen by the food, however, as she was starving, and anything fried and/or noodles made for a very happy Wraith. She stirred it all up, a bed of rice hidden underneath it, and started shoving sweet and savory into her face. Crypto was no better. Between the japchae and soju they talked, Crypto’s words flowing with fewer pauses, no clipped edges, smooth and cool. Once they finished the bottle bubbles of laughter began to escape between his lips.

He was acting like…a normal dude, for the most part. Telling her about more Korean drinking traditions, all of which seemed centered on getting everyone at the table drunk as quickly as possible. Mentioning his other favorite places to eat, but all of them were Korean names she couldn’t comprehend, let alone pronounce. They ordered another bottle and he served again, hand steady, aim…slightly off, but Wraith just wiped up the spot. The warmth of company and drink was enough to rile up a little courage in her, risk trying for actual personal questions. “Do you have any pets?”

“Huh? Ah, yah. Heh. I have a cat.”

She grinned. “I have three.”

“Show me.” He leaned forward, and she pulled up pictures of her trio, a white Persian, a tortoiseshell, and a Siamese. “Bubbles, Blossom and Buttercup.”

“Oh, like the show?”

“Yeah, I love it.” She bit her lip, smiling sheepishly. “I uh, love cartoons.”

He snorted, tapping the corner of his glasses. “I can still name every Pokémon. All of them.”

She laughed. “Show me your cat.”

He pulled out his phone, scrolled and then held up a picture of an orange striped behemoth. Wraith almost squealed. “He’s so cute!”

“Tofu. My trash son.”

“Why is he your trash son?”

“I found him in the trash. Little kitten,” he leaned to the side funny while showing how small with his hands. “Was eating old tofu skins out of a takeout box. So, Tofu. It’s his favorite food, too.” He looked down at the photo. “Jibang. Fatty.”

“Perfect fatty.”

“Yah.”

They got halfway through the second bottle before finishing their meals. Crypto paid with cash and swiped the bottle of soju on the way out. It was fully night now, a humid chill pressing against her skin. The street was lit by a mixture of streetlamps and neon light as the nightlife took flight. She glanced over to see Crypto swigging straight from the bottle. Soon as he caught her eye he snorted and pulled the bottle away with a half—clumsy sidestep, arm over his nose as his chest shook with restrained laughter. She stopped to stare at him, grinning stupidly, though she didn’t know it. Alcohol had a wonderful voice dampening affect. “Caught you,” she said.

A giggle escaped into his sleeve. Red splashed over his cheeks and nose, bright in the streetlights. “I think I’ve drank too much. I’m going to say something I shouldn’t.”

“Probably just do something stupid, like drink straight from the bottle. What if I want some more, huh?” She said this all teasingly. She’d never been like this with anyone but Elliott.

He grinned, the most she’d ever seen from him, and it was silly, and light, and beautiful, and he held the bottle by the lip and swung it idly. “Guess it’s too bad, huh?”

Too bad her ass. She swiped it and drank without hesitation. She relished the look on his face and did something quite unlike herself, holding out the bottle and tapping the lip to his chin. “You still want some?”

Slowly he took it, cocking his head to the side, which she copied, and sipped. Then passed it back to her, walking side by side, mirrors of themselves in the earlier evening, but closer, and warmer. She imagined the sweet strawberry to be the taste of kissing him, and the chill wet press of the night air against her skin his hand. She felt like it would be clammy. Or would it be warm and firm—the same feeling as a hand she’d held a lifetime ago, the memory of another Wraith threading it through the crinkles of her brain.

It didn’t matter, she decided, what that old hand had felt like, just like it didn’t matter what her old name had felt like on her lips or sounded coming from another’s. The now mattered, the now and the to—be. And while the to—be was still blurry and a little scary, the now was warm and hazy, it made no sense at all and she loved it. She took the last sip as they came to the convenience store she saw earlier, and both stopped, staring at the blinding white around the sign letters. They looked at each other and came to the mutual decision to get drunk snacks.

The lights were almost painful, and the shelves, while hosting the expected candy and chips, were also filled with an erroneous amount of instant ramen, teas and drinks with cubes of jelly in them, gimbap, bibimbap, banchan and a surprising variety of meat on sticks for…some reason. She recognized some things and not others, leading to the two of them standing in one of the middle isles while Crypto drunkenly talked about a sandwich, which you were supposed to bring up front to be cooked. The one he was holding was strawberry jam and cream cheese. Wraith wasn’t sure she trusted it, but they ended up getting it, along with some type of Japanese chips and a handful of other things that two drunks thought sounded good. They stepped out and Wraith looked at their bag. “Hyeon, where are we going to eat this?”

Crypto looked around, rubbing at his face. The synthetic skin crinkled like the normal skin, which she hadn’t expected. She’d always thought of it like metal plating. He nodded towards the sketchy ass dirt lot. For some reason that seemed like a good idea, and so Wraith sat on a cinderblock in the outskirts of a streetlamp with a guy who a few hours ago had been little more than someone to talk to between matches, half—drunk and rifling through a bag of food she only vaguely recognized. Some inkling of a voice seemed to suggest that this was a bad idea in one universe, but two or three threaded together to tell her they were safe, even if it didn’t seem like it.

She did feel safe with him, there was just something about him, the longer she spent in his air. She really didn’t know too much about him, just that he had a lot of open secrets with the Syndicate, and that Caustic was under a gag order regarding his real identity, since they were both from Gaea, but otherwise he thought Mirage was an idiot and didn’t talk to people outside of the ring. Except for you, a voice reminded her, a gentle nudging tone to it. It made her heart skip a beat when he passed her one of the strange jelly drinks.

“It’s called Mogu—Mogu. Means “to chew” in Japanese,” he said.

“Do you speak that too?” She sipped it and, yeah, she was definitely chewing it. She didn’t know how she felt about chewing her drink, but the flavor was good.

“No. My sister was just obsessed with these.” He stopped, a drop in the mood so sudden she could almost hear it. She’d heard rumor about his sister having passed. The voices suggested nefarious things had happened. “She got them every day before class. When we had money.”

She swallowed. “It is pretty good.”

“Yah.” He rolled his shoulders, staring off. She continued sipping, the cinderblock suddenly uncomfortable, the chill almost too much, the neon blue glow over low, old industrial buildings to their back metamorphosizing from lively to sinister. But all at once that was pulled away again when he sighed and readjusted himself, looking up at the sky. It was a big expanse of dark blue fog, not a star to be seen. Solace was the exact opposite. “Wraith?”

“Yeah?”

“I miss her.”

She adjusted herself, staring at the drink. At a loss, she offered it to him. And that’s when she saw it, breaking to the surface, cracking through layers and layers: a smile, for real. Not for fun, but something brighter, from somewhere deeper. It felt like being shown the inside of a treasure chest. He took the drink, sipped it, and breathed deeply. “I’m going to say something stupid.”

“Okay.”

He half—laughed. “You’re not even going to try and stop me?”

“Nah.”

He laughed fully, and even that felt realer than it had earlier. “Well. Well,” he swallowed, and sipped the drink, seeming to steel himself. “I…Taejoon Park.”

She understood immediately—his real name. And no wonder Caustic was on a gag order, because that name had reached Solace, Gridiron, and even Talos. The voices began to gather and flood her with information—the admission had been a catalyst. Taking a moment to collect herself, she picked the sandwich out of the bag, broke it at the seam created by the panini press, and offered him half. He furrowed his brow but took it. “I like it,” she said.

“What?”

“Your name. Taejoon. It fits you.”

He blinked, looking at the sandwich, then back at her again. His mouth was fallen in confusion, and he was squinting at her. Like a mole that had surfaced into the daylight. A very cute mole. “You, uh, you don’t recognize it?”

“I recognize it. And I know what you did,” she gestured at her head, and his eyes widened.

“I didn’t. I n—never would.”

“I know,” she said, and she hoped he could tell how much she meant it. There was still alcohol warmth in her cheeks, but her mind was clearer than it had been. “They fucked you completely.”

He swallowed. “I haven’t said my name in…I don’t remember when.”

“Can I keep calling you it? Not in front of the others.”

He seemed to think, and she hoped part of his thoughts were on what she was insinuating—that they’d meet again, outside the ring, outside the dropship. “Please,” he said finally.

She grinned, and so did he, before taking a huge bite of the sandwich, chewing a moment, and then letting out a bark of laughter and falling from his cinderblock into the dusty lot ground, sandwich resting on his chest. He started giggling and Wraith stood to look down at him, chewing, committing the way the orange edges of streetlight cast a brassy gleam on his ruddy cheeks to memory. Is this the memory the voice was mentioning? “Dude?”

Taejoon giggled again, back of his hand hiding his mouth. “I haven’t felt this light in years.”

That makes me so happy. “I’m glad.” She said.

His cheeks moved, his hidden grin wider. He pointed with his other hand. “You have jam on your face.”

“Huh?” She leaned down, because his hand had muffled his words, and suddenly his thumb was at the corner of her mouth, pressing and swiping.

“Jam,” he said, resting the tip of one long finger at the corner of her mouth. “Right there.”

“Oh.” She whispered. Neither moved for a moment, and then, guided by desire or a silent voice, she wasn’t sure, Wraith simultaneously lowered herself to her knees while Taejoon pushed himself up on his elbow. Do it, do it, do it, said a chorus of voices. “If you want to do something else stupid,” she said, “I’d do it now.”

His eyes scanned her face, the sharpness dulled by drink, but not the longing. “I don’t know if it is too risky.”

“Might be riskier not to,” she whispered.

“I don’t know…”

“Taej—!” He leant up and kissed her, quickly, almost a peck, and then again. Not like any of the nasty suck—the—air—out—of—your—lungs kisses she saw in movies, but a warm press of the lips, three seconds as most, fueled by want and wish and fuck—it—ness. Not that she’d kissed a lot of people, two to be exact, but it was still quite possibly the best kiss she’d ever had, for reasons that would crowd a page. She realized the memory the voice had mentioned wasn’t the gleaming light on his cheeks, but now, when he looked up at her, eyes huge with awe that he’d actually done it, biting his lip against a nervous little smile. Glasses crooked. “You,” she started, licking over her lower lip, tapping the glasses into place, “you taste like strawberries.”

“So do you,” he breathed. “T—This isn’t just the soju, right?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Me either.”

“So this—“

“It’s a thing.” He said.

“A good thing.”

“It is?”

“I think it is. You don’t?”

“I do,” he said, finally sitting up. She grabbed hold of his hand, and she had been completely wrong—it wasn’t clammy, but warm, dry, rougher than she guessed. “But, well, I’m kind of a disaster.”

“You’re talking to an interdimensional freakshow,” she said.

“You’re not a freakshow.”

She smiled a little. “Interdimensional gremlin disaster then.”

He snorted, turning to face her, back to the light. He tilted half into her and then pulled himself up again, steadying with a hand to her shoulder. “You’re not a very steady drunk, are you.”

“Nope,” he said with absolutely zero hesitation. She chuckled. She felt his hand move to hover hesitantly by her cheek, and she looked at him while she leaned into it. He breathed deeply and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear like in one of Elliott’s shitty romcoms she might have secretly enjoyed. The voices were a joyful thrum in the back of her head. Heh, maybe having cheerleaders is fun sometimes. Wraith held on to that moment, against the dark and the uncertainty of what she was supposed to do—there wasn’t exactly a social guideline of what to do after kissing your coworker in an empty lot following what could be a life ending confession, if she was anyone else.

Some part of her decided they at least should be standing, and, being the far steadier of the two, she reluctantly left his hand and ended up helping him to his feet, giggling a bit as he stumbled into her. He smiled shyly, running a hand through his hair while she grabbed their bag of half eaten goods. She knew he was watching her, and when she turned back to him, he was frowning. “What’s wrong?”

“I…am serious, about, ah, being a disaster. I mean, I’m wanted for murder. I have prices on my head for more than that, on three planets at least. The Syndicate has let me live so far but…” He sort of shrugged. “I don’t know how long that will last.”

She paused. “What was your plan, when you joined the Games?”

“Take them down. The whole organization.”

“But you didn’t.” She felt a nudging near her temple, a sort of confirmation in her thoughts. “You got to know us.”

“I did. I thought you were all monsters, but…well, Gibraltar, he’s just trying to help people he…cares about.” His shoulders slumped and he angled his head toward the sky, breath condensing like dragon smoke. “Lifeline, too. Bangalore needs money to find her family, Pathfinder is looking for his creator, and even Witt, with his mother and, and you…” He looked back at her. “You just want to figure out who you are.”

“It’s all I’ve ever known,” she confirmed.

“And knowing that, I don’t know if I can just…destroy it, without leaving something for…for people who…” He held up a hand, wavering, and then dropped it. “I just don’t know.”

It looked like it pained him, physically, to admit that. She also highly doubted he’d have admitted it if he was even half an inch more sober. She thought carefully before offering her hand, which he took. She half pulled him along to the rolled fence, clambering up and out like they had earlier. “I don’t care if it’s dangerous to be around you,” she said.

“I don’t want someone else getting hurt,” he said.

“You’re trying to drive me off, aren’t you?”

“I think so.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have kissed me if you wanted to do that.” She smiled just slightly. In the full lamplight, he looked doubly as shy as he had earlier.

“I did do that, huh.”

“You did.”

He cursed in Korean, and she chuckled. They held hands as they walked; they moved through the nightclub and food stall crowds like blood in water, swirling and dipping, unnoticed in the menagerie of humanness. “So, you’re saying I’m stuck with you?” He asked as they bled back into the dim night.

“I’m saying I’m willing to work with the whole ‘wanted criminal’ aspect.”

“Mm.” Taejoon was quiet then, from there to the transport station. It wasn’t awkward, like how it could be with Elliott or Path, but more like with Natalie. A subject was left hanging, but that was fine. Silence fosters thought, mon ami, and with that comes some shocking revelations…get it?

God Nat, I love you, you little pun goblin.

They stopped at the transport station, and Wraith bought a ticket from the kiosk and headed to where the other three people stupid enough to be out that late were boarding. She turned to Taejoon when the doors creaked open, taking both his hands, the bag at her elbow. She felt a tingling nervousness in her toes at the words pushing her tongue to move, to speak. “So, we’re going to do this? Try this…as something?”

He squeezed her hands, biting his lip and boy howdy did that make her feel some things. “Yeah,” he said, softly, “lets make this something.”

She grinned, all a flutter as she popped up on her toes and kissed him. This must be what people mean when they say they feel like a kid, she thought, almost skipping away to the transport, calling to the mildly surprised Taejoon that she’d see him at the next game. She found a seat and for once in her memory fidgeted not in pain or discomfort or anxiety but in utter jiggly joy. She chanced a last look back as the transport lulled out of the station, pressing her face to the glass sealed in preparation for space travel in order to see him.

Taejoon was still staring at the transport, hands idle in the air where she’d held them. Then, slowly, he pumped his fists into the air and twirled around, grinning like he’d won a championship.

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