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secret-treasury · 3 years ago

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Dad!Sirius

little blurbs about sirius being the best dad ever. Also includes some sirius X reader, Marauders.

Babysitters

Atlas loves when Lily babysits them. He is just smitten with her and he especially likes her hair. She’ll hold him and he would just stare at her with awe. He would pull a little on her hair and would get pouty when told off for it, especially from James. He isn’t a fan of James' because he always takes Lily away from him at the end of the day and he doesn't like that, but eventually he’d grow to like him... a little.

Neo on the other hand enjoys hanging out with James. She follows him everywhere and wants to be with him when he does random things, she is like his little shadow. She gets pouty if she doesn’t get to play with his glasses and he always tells her to be careful with them so as to not break them. She has an attitude, she rolls her eyes at him. “Well… she's a pads kid alright!” he’d joke. To which she responds with an excited “Padtoot!” and laugh while running away with James' glasses to get her dog plushy.

Remus is however Neo's favorite babysitter and for one reason only. He has a beard and she loves beards and just wants to grab at them. Luckily both Sirius and Remus keep their beards trimmed short so there isn’t much for her to grab. Sirius did the prank on her where he hid the lower part of his face behind a towel, then when he revealed his clean shaven face, Neo was SO upset she wouldn’t stop crying. Whenever she saw him until his beard grew back she’d cry at the sight of him. When he finally had his beard back she had missed him so much. She’d have a similar reaction to remus shaving but milder. Neo loves hanging out with her uncles but daddy is still the best. Remus and Atlas get along great, atlas loves to sit in uncle Remy's lap while he reads, and most of the time he falls asleep, Atlas is a very cuddly and sleepy boy so it works out well.

Regulus is a decent babysitter but confuses the twins slightly when they are very young for the simple reason that he looks similar to their dad. Before they eventually learn the difference, he would be kind of an ‘imposter Sirius’ because they are aware that isn’t dad…. But he really looks like dad….

Bath time!

Both Neo and Atlas LOVE bath time, especially with their dad. They both just can’t stop laughing when Sirius makes himself a bubble beard and causes bubbles to fly everywhere when he talks. He’d create fun narratives with pirates and priateship and sea monsters.

The only thing Atlas doesn’t like about bath time is washing his hair, he cries so much because he doesn’t like getting shampoo in his eyes or when water runs down his face. Luckily Sirius is super gentle with him and makes sure he feels safe the whole time.

“Close your eyes” the little boy does as his father says and shuts his eyes really hard. Sirius puts some shampoo in his palm and rubs his hands together before massaging it into the boy’s hair. Atlas starts whining a little bit. “It’s alright buddy” sirius comforts. When it’s time to wash the shampoo out he gets pouty again. Sirius tells Atlas to lean his head back while he supports the little boy’s back with his hand.

“Are you keeping ‘em closed?”. Atlas nods and again focuses on keeping his eyes shut as hard as he can. “Here comes the water,” Sirius warns. He would never do anything to break his son’s trust, especially not for a laugh. All three of them sing a song together, usually some type of nursery rhyme, to help distract the little scared boy from the water.

Neo was easier to handle albeit a bit wild. She loved singing the song whilst water was running down her face and it sounded like she was underwater. She’d laugh a lot and then accidentally breath in some water. She’d be upset for a moment and cough a bit but in no time she’s singing happily again. Sirius often found himself singing nursery rhymes in the shower when he would wash his own hair, just a weird habit he had when the kids were little.

After bath time he would help them into their cute little bathrobes and then the two kids would run to their mama looking like little jawas. Sirius would join them moments later, clothes splashed with bathwater and bubbles still in his beard. He didn’t mind though.

Bedtime

Sirius would teach them to brush their teeth by themself as soon as possible. He would seat them on the bathroom counter, give them their little toothbrushes and portion out the tooth paste. Neo was the most troublesome in this area, she didn’t like brushing her teeth so he’d tell her an elaborate story of why she needs to brush her teeth. Unfortunately she didn’t believe him. Atlas did though and always pointed out that they need to brush their teeth every morning and evening like the sweet boy he is. Because of Neo's brother pestering her with the importance of brushing her teeth she’d do it. So it worked out for Sirius eventually… in a roundabout way.

After all the teeth had been brushed, including Sirius’, he set them back down on the floor and the twins rushed as fast as their little legs could carry them to their shared bedroom. Atlas would get his blankie and his deer plush that he got from auntie Lils when he was born. Neo would get a book and her very loved dog plushy also called padfoot or as she ‘padtoot’. They would wait for Sirius to join them and he would take a seat in the armchair they had in their little room, he would place the twins in his lap and they would get comfortable. Atlas would share his blankie and they would place their plushies in their laps getting ready for the bedtime story.

Sirius would read to them and also educate them on different topics, making the twins question what happened in the story and why. While also keeping it lighthearted and fun. He’d give the characters different voices, some were funny and some were silly. After they finished the story they would beg him to read another one and it would break his heart telling them no, but he knew they were exhausted and needed their sleep. “There will be another story tomorrow”

Puting Atlas to sleep was the easiest thing in the world. As soon as his head hit the pillow he would be asleep, holding onto his blankie and his plush. Sirius would pull the covers up and lovingly caress the boy’s cheek and place a kiss on his forehead wishing him goodnight.

Neo was more troublesome, she wanted Sirius to stay with her until she fell asleep. He’d tuck her in, kiss her forehead and also give ‘padtoot’ a goodnight kiss. Then he’d sit on the floor by her bed and caress her cheek til she fell asleep. Sometimes he’d fall asleep on the floor leaning onto the side of her bed.

Food habits

Atlas is a picky eater, veggies are his number one enemy and he’ll do anything to not eat them. Sirius understands this because he himself hated veggies when he was little although his punishments for not eating them was very uncalled for. It takes a lot of coaxing to get atlas to eat them and he is always the last one at the table. Sirius has tried everything but it's still a struggle.

“Just eat 3 more broccolis and a cauliflower, then you can go play” Sirius tried to convince the boy but he just shook his head and scrunched up his face in disgust. He couldn’t help but sigh at the cute but stubborn little boy. “Eat two and then we’ll go play afterwards, okay buddy?” Sirius tried to bargain. He saw a glimmer in the boy's eyes.

“You play too?” he asked hopefully and Sirius nodded. Atlas unwillingly picked up the fork and poked at the veggies. After a while he picked out the two smallest veggies and ate them one at a time. “Done!” he declared after forcing them down. Atlas slipped off the chair and rushed to join his siblings.

“Daddy will play with us” he cheered happily, veggies long forgotten. They spent most of the afternoon playing hide and seek. Atlas was the first to get tired and decided to hide under the covers in his parents bed. As he crawled under the covers Neo and Zagreus noticed his genius hiding spot and went to join him.

“Here I come!” Sirius called out as he began looking around the house. Not finding them in the usual hiding spots he began to feel worried even though they couldn’t possibly have left the house. When he passed the master bedroom he noticed 3 child sized lumps in his and his wife's bed. As he got closer he could hear some giggling. He carefully peeled up the covers to peek inside to see his pups. “I found you” he chuckled as he began scooping them up in his arms as they laughed and giggled happily.

When Y/N came home later that afternoon the house was quiet. The plates and cutlery, long forgotten on the kitchen table much to her annoyance. However, the sight she was greeted with in her bedroom of her husband and three little children sleeping together in a pile on the bed, tangled up in the covers and blankets. It was enough for her heart to swell with love.

Neo generally isn't a picky eater, she eats well and healthy meals. She does however love ice cream though. the strawberry, vanilla and chocolate mix also known as neapolitan ice cream. Neo is a tough girl to bargain with as she’s not as easily fooled as other children, but ice cream is her weakness and Sirius does occasionally use that to his advantage.

“Neo, sweetie. Please it’s time to sleep,” Sirius would almost beg as he was seated beside her bed on the floor, being as tired as he wished his daughter was.

“No.” Neo said stubbornly and crossed her arms over the covers. Sirius had tucked the children into bed almost half an hour ago and both boys were fast asleep and sailing off to dreamland. “I don’t want you to leave me daddy” she sniffled and her eyes were glossy with tears. Overwhelmed by emotions she suddenly sat up and threw her little arms around her fathers neck, holding him tight. His arm wrapped around her little body and he caressed the back of her little head with his free hand. He remembered feeling a similar feeling when he was very little. When his mother seemed to love him.

“Of course I won't leave you, puppy.” he said comfortingly as his heart ached in his chest. Neo pulled back to look at him, tears running down her chubby little cheeks. her hands still on his shoulders and her fingers played with his long dark hair.

“Promise me daddy” she demanded with another sniffle. Her words tore him apart within.

“I won’t leave you, ever.” he promised. He knew it was a lie, that one day he would have to leave her alone on this earth, even though it seemed far til then. He dried the tears from her cheeks and kissed her forehead. “Now go to sleep sweetie”

“Only if I get ice cream for breakfast” she argued back with a little giggle as he crawled back under the covers. Sirius tucked her into bed once again.

“Not for breakfast, but sometime tomorrow we can have ice cream, okay?” he said and poked her nose gently and giggled along with her. She lifted her little hand and held out her pinky.

“And strawberries” she said as Sirius wrapped his larger pinky around her little one. It wasn’t strawberry season, Neo knew that but she cleverly made him promise her to get her favourite fruit too. He couldn’t simply go back on a pinky swear.

“And strawberries,” Sirius sighed with a smile on his lips. His little girl was so clever, he knew he got it from her mother but the way she used it, that was all him.

Zagreus eats pretty much anything even if he doesn't like it. He accidentally took a bite of a bar of soap once. It was shaped as a cinnamon bun and the poor boy thought it was real.

“Dad?” he said as he pulled on his fathers sleeve. The potters were over for dinner and Sirius was out on the porch chatting with James over a cold beer.

“What is it boy?” he said and crouched down to the little boy's level. The boy looked puzzled and showed his father the cinnamon bun soap with a child sized bit in it.

“This bun tastes weird, dad.” James couldn’t hold back his laughter.

“Ah, oh it’s not a cinnamon bun, boy” sirius tried to explain but the boy looked at the bun soap and up at his father again convinced that his father was indeed mad. Sirius couldn’t hold back a chuckle “It’s soap.. In the shape of a bun”

“Oh…” Zagreus said finally trying to make sense of his odd food experience. Sirius ruffled the boy's hair. “Here” the boy said and gave Sirius the bun and then wandered off back into the house.

On Sundays it's always pancake or waffle Sunday at the Black’s house and the pups demand having their favorite fruit as a side. Atlas does a lot better with fruits and Sirius takes whatever wins he can get with the boy honestly. Blueberries are Atlas’ favourite fruit or well berry. However he doesn’t like fake fruit flavours in fact he hates them almost as much as he hates his sworn enemy... veggies.

Neo of course enjoys the sweet strawberries and often gets her way which means ice cream instead of whipped cream.

Zagreus loves pomegranates which doesn’t really go well with either pancakes or waffles but he is determined to have it anyway.

#sirius black fluff #sirius black #dad!sirius #sirius black x reader #sirius orion black #sirius black x you #sirius black imagine #sirius x reader #the marauders #james potter #remus lupin #regulus black #lily evans #lily potter #sirius fluff #sirius imagine #sirius blurb #sirius black blurb #sirius black headcanon

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willwriteforhugs · 3 years ago

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the most beautiful girl i’ve ever known- jung hoseok

boyfriend! hobi x chubby! reader- one shot !

word count: 2.3k

genre: angst

synopsis: you’ve always struggled with confidence- it’s simply part of who you are. always the chubby student in the class, always the one wearing pants instead of a mini skirt. as an adult, you tried to make peace with it, but after a horrible run in with your coworker, you feel like you just can’t do it anymore- at least, until your boyfriend takes things into his own hands. hoseok’s determined to get you to realize your own beauty, and he’ll do anything for that to happen.

warnings: body-shaming, work harassment, swearing, minor arguing

a/n: wow, first bts fic, here we go...

this fic was requested by a sweet anon- and if they’re reading this, i hope i did the request justice! i think i did well, though i tried to treat the topic with love and respect.

i hope everyone enjoys <333

- - -

your apartment building’s elevator makes a polite dinging noise as the doors slide smoothly shut- and for the second time since they opened, you thank god the small space is empty.

elevators are generally silent places, but now the box is filled with the sound of your rushed, uneven breathing. you rotate so your back is pressed into the corner of the moving elevator, pressing a hand to your face. hot, silent tears stream down your cheeks. your thoughts are a jumbled mess:

god, how embarrassing. crying in a public elevator. anyone could walk in right now.

you try to take a stabilizing breath- but you quickly realize the attempt was in vain. your inhale causes you to hiccup and choke, making you cry even harder. you bury your face in your hands, wondering what you’d done to deserve this.

‘why this body? why?’ you think to yourself. it was a thought that came all too quickly, and one you were familiar with.

you don’t think you were ugly, not necessarily- but you certainly don’t think you were desirable, either. being overweight had always had that effect- not complete hopelessness, but a serious lack of overall confidence. and it’s not like you can help it- you try your best to stay healthy, but genetics do what genetics do. so you are overweight. some days, that fact it didn’t bug you- but today was not one of those days.

in the moment, you feel yourself reach up down and clutch at your own arms, squeezing the soft flesh. you groan quietly, unwillingly reliving what had caused this spiral in the first place.

one hour ago:

you had begun the day in a positive mood, really- but that had all gone to shit once the work day began.

you had a new coworker- mr. lee. he wasn’t your superior, but he liked to be called by his surname, apparently. he’d been hired on a whim two weeks ago, when the company lost the long time employee that previously held mr. lee’s position.

the man, though being probably a decade your senior, had a childlike way of going about the work day. he laughed at things that weren’t funny, and tried to make conversation even when you had your earbuds in.

you hated him, naturally.

he was just too much. over-caffeinated, controlling, and immature- basically everything you despised in a peer.

however- or up until today, at least- you’d been able to tolerate him. but while you were on lunch break, mr. lee drew the last straw with you.

he’d walked into the breakroom, already making too much noise. he was humming, and tapping his foot, and running the microwave, all at the same time. and, unfortunately, you were the only other person in the room- so he made a beeline straight for you.

“afternoon, peach!” he’d said. you hated the nickname, and had no idea of its origins.

“hi,” you grumbled, staring down at your food.

“i didn’t see you come in this morning.”

you made a noncommittal noise. “got here early.”

“right.” the man replied.

a beat passed, and the two of you settled into a stiff silence, only disrupted by the sound of your eating.

and finally, the vulture had a point of interest.

“you really gonna eat all that?” he’d said, looking pointedly down at your meal.

you’d frowned at the comment, and dodged the question. “why do you ask?” you’d replied.

“well, you know. didn’t think a girl like you would need all of that, right?”

you set your fork down, trying to keep your breathing even. before you had been able to come up with an answer, though, he’d continued:

“i mean, you should be trying to lose weight.” he leaned into the word ‘lose’, as if speaking to a child.

you remember your anger had begun to dissipate, quickly replaced by offence and sadness. you’d stood up quickly, grabbing at your things so you could leave.

mr. lee had frowned at your reaction. “come on now,” he’d said. “there’s no need to feel upset, i’m only being honest with you. you don’t want me to lie, do you? you’re fat, you may as well know.”

you spun on him. “and what’s so wrong with being fat?”

before he could supply you with an answer (which he surely thought he had) you’d stormed out of the room and requested the afternoon off.

and now here you are.

you stumble a bit on your way out of the elevator, cursing as you nearly drop your bag. when you finally make it to your door, it takes three tries to get the code correct.

you sigh heavily as the door to your apartment swings open. to your surprise, you find the lights still on, and it takes you a moment to realize why.

it’s friday.

hoseok had the day off.

shit.

you kick off your shoes and shut the door quickly, abandoning any efforts to be quiet. your own sniffles seem loud as you scramble to shut yourself in the hallway bathroom. you don’t want him to see you like this- crying, puffy, and chubby as usual.

right as you slam the bathroom door shut, you hear his voice.

“y/n?”

you grimace, clamping a hand over your mouth to stifle the sounds of your crying.

“y/n-ah, is that you?”

you hear your boyfriend pad into the hallway, and his steps falter when he discovers your belongings strewn about by the front door. there’s a pause, then the footsteps continue to the bathroom door- where, on the other side, you’re slumped against the cabinets.

hoseok knocks gently. “y/n? love, are you alright? i thought you worked until five today...”

when you don’t answer, he continues. “are you sick?”

you squeeze your eyes shut, and a small sob tears its way out of your mouth.

you can tell your boyfriend heard it, because his voice becomes even more frantic. “y/n?” he says, leaning against the door.

oh, hoseok. sweet, innocent hoseok. he was always so kind to you. you remember the day when he first asked you out- you’d been convinced it was a prank at first, but when you realized he was being genuine, you’d fallen for him instantly. now, you know that genuine was all hobi ever was.

he’d never called you fat. it had crossed your mind, of course- whether or not your size bugged him, or if he had to defend you to his friends- but whenever you’d been brave enough to ask about it, hoseok would always respond with: “of course not, my love, you’re beautiful.”

you’d never pushed it, though now you realize you always wanted to.

now you remove your hand from your mouth, taking a shaky breath. your voice trembles as you finally respond: ‘”i’m okay, i’m- i’m not sick or anything.”

you hear your boyfriend’s body slide down the length of the door, ultimately settling on the ground in front of it. you lean forward so your head is pressed against the wood- the two of you are sitting face to face, with only the closed door keeping you apart.

“y/n-ah, talk to me.” hoseok says. “please.”

your shoulders shake as another wave of tears crashes over you. “i’m sorry,” you manage. “i’m just- i’m not feeling very good right now.”

you can tell hobi’s face is pressed into the door from how close his voice sounds. his words are tinged with distress. “what happened?”

you sigh, overwhelmed with shame and anger. you don’t want to tell him- but of course, you know you have to anyways. if for anything, just to wipe the sad curiosity out of his voice.

“you remember- do you remember how i have that awful new coworker?” you croak.

there was a pause, then: “the older one?”

“yeah. he’s annoying. and rude.”

“okay, yeah. i remember.” hoseok says quietly, urging you to continue.

you inhale slowly. “he just- he said some things to me today, and i-”

hobi interrupts you suddenly, his tone having gone sharp. “what kind of things?”

you pause. “he said... things about my body. he said i needed to lose weight.”

hoseok says nothing, which is always worrisome. you can practically feel his emotions through the solid wooden door- a chaotic mix of distress, concern, and red-hot fury.

after a moment, your boyfriend speaks up. “y/n-ah.”

you hum dully in response.

“can you please open the door?”

you frown, but decide not to fight it. you know he’s only trying to help. so you reach up and scoot back a few feet so that the door can open inwards. hoseok, who had been so faithfully slumped on the other side, shuffles inside the small bathroom, still on his knees.

when he meets your eyes, you can see his heartbreak, and he can see yours. without any hesitation, he reaches forward and takes your face in his hands, softly caressing your tear-streaked cheeks.

you lean into his touch, allowing your body to fall forward into his. he slips an arm around your abdomen in support.

a few minutes pass without speaking, the air filled only with the sounds of hobi’s hand running over your back, and your laboured breathing.

finally, your counterpart speaks up. “y/n- is that all he said? the one thing?”

he places his hand on your jaw to lift your face away from his chest, wanting to meet your eyes.

you sigh, pulling away. “no, he- he told me that i should eat less, and that-” your breath catches. “well, he said i was fat.”

hoseok’s jaw clenches, and you shift in his arms. “what?” you whisper.

his eyes are aflame when he responds. “why would he say those things to you? i just- why did he think he’d have any right?”

you look away. “i don’t know. male workplace entitlement.”

hobi gives a wry chuckle. “that’s no excuse.”

“i know.”

“we’ll report him, alright? i will, if you won’t. that’s no way to be speaking to coworkers.”

you nod vaguely as hobi runs his hands up and down your arms. trapped underneath you, your right foot begin to fall asleep.

“baby?” your boyfriend asks after a minute.

“do you think he’s right?” you burst, eyes burning. “do you think i need to lose weight?”

hoseok’s face falls, and he grasps at your wrists. “y/n,” he starts.

“no,” you interrupt. “really, hoseok. i- i’m not enough for you, am i? i don’t know why you stay with me. you’re way out of my league.”

“y/n!” hobi snaps. his tone is suddenly sharp.

you shut your mouth, already regretting your words.

“my love.” hoseok whispers, his voice breaking. “how could you say that?”

you choke on a dry sob, unable to answer.

your boyfriend’s eyes search your face, desperate for an answer that isn’t there. “how could you ever think that you aren’t good enough? and- what, just because you aren’t skinny?”

you look down at the floor as he continues, blinking rapidly. the tears really won’t stop.

“that’s a silly way to think.” hoseok says quietly. “and i know that for a fact, y/n. because you are the most beautiful girl i’ve ever known. and you always will be, no matter how big you are. you could be four sizes smaller, or four sizes larger, and i would love you all the same.”

you burrow your face further into his chest. “you mean it?” your voice comes out in a whimper.

“absolutely.” he says, not hesitating. “there is no version of events where you aren’t good enough for me. you’re too good for me, honestly. sometimes i think you deserve better.”

you pull away now, frowning. “that’s not true.”

“why not?”

“well,” you falter. “because i love you. and i chose you. i chose you because i love you, and i don’t want anybody else.”

above you, hoseok smiles gently, waiting for you to hear your own words.

the realization hits, and you understand suddenly. he wanted you to say that, to hear it from yourself.

“oh,” you whisper.

“now do you get it?”

you sniffle, grateful that your tears have mostly subsided. “yeah,” you mumble. “i get it.”

“good.” hobi pauses. “i love you, y/n. and it doesn’t matter what anyone else says about you, because you’re gorgeous, and you’re important. and you will never be defined by your body. i’ll call your office and report that awful guy, alright?”

you nod silently.

“okay.” he says, nudging your arm. “now how about you get cleaned up? since you’re home early we can spend the whole evening together if you’d like.”

you perk up at that. “oh- yes, i want to.”

hoseok smiles. “i thought so. here-” he rises to his feet, extending a hand to help you. you take it, placing your palm in his. he lifts you to standing, then smiles again.

“don’t worry, my love. i’ll fix your mood right up. i even have some sample tracks i could show you!”

you smile gently. “that sounds nice.”

as he turns to leave, you clear your throat. “hoseok.”

he turns quickly, eyebrows raised. “hmm?”

you gesture for him to come closer, and as soon as he’s in arm’s reach, you lean over and kiss him.

it’s a gentle kiss, really. a kiss that says i love you, and a kiss that says thank you, for everything.

hoseok hums into your mouth, hands quickly finding your waist. you lean into him, body and mind buzzing. kissing hoseok is your favorite, because each time is just a little different.

your hands find his hair, and you smile against his mouth. you can feel him smile back.

he kisses you for just a moment longer, then pulls away.

he rests his forehead on yours, sighing lightly.

and you know that you have never felt more loved, more beautiful, more safe, then you do in that moment, with him.

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joined-at-the-everything · 5 years ago

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It’s an awkward drive back to Sioux Falls.

It’s full of uncomfortable questions and uncomfortable answers, stuffy silence that makes Kaia seriously consider ripping her skin off. Jody keeps trying to be nice , to talk to her, to get her to open up about her trauma or whatever, because apparently spending all the time she spent in the literal apocalyptic wasteland that plagued her nightmares since she was a little girl isn’t considered all that healthy.

Kaia thinks, if anything, she’s lost a bit of that particular childhood fear.

Somehow, it’s even worse when the drive’s over and they walk into the house. Alex and Patience are there. And- she's got no clue what Jody told them about her little vacation, but they walk on eggshells around her, clumsily avoiding all the difficult topics they possibly can to the point where they barely speak at all save for some clipped sentences here and there.

Kaia supposes it’s kind of nice, that they’re trying.

But she doesn’t really know them all that well, and besides-

They keep acting like she’s going to shatter any second, take a wrong step and break down, start screaming and crying and begging for- for what? Kaia doesn’t know, doesn’t even try to understand whatever it is that goes through their heads.

She just wants to rest. To be alone.

She asks for a bed to sleep in.

“Uh, yeah- yeah, yeah, of course” Jody says, all hurried and eager to please, and she wasn’t really acting that way in the car, but it seems like Alex and Patience’s attitude may be contagious. “We don’t have a spare bedroom but Claire isn’t here yet, so you can take her room in the meantime” she nods to herself, turns to Alex. “Sweetheart, did you change the sheets like I asked you?”

Alex opens her eyes very wide. “Shit. Fuck- I can- I can do it now, just give me a-”

But Patience grabs her arm before she can squirrel away, rolls her eyes. “I did it already. Before you got home. I knew you’d forget it”

“Oh” Alex breathes.

And then there’s more of that stuffy silence Kaia is starting to hate.

“I’m gonna- go, now” she starts, awkwardly. “I’m tired”

“Of course, Kaia, you must be exhausted” Jody says, motherly and soft. Kaia isn’t sure she likes that tone either. “Feel free to take whatever from Claire’s closet, I’m sure she won’t mind”

And maybe Kaia should thank her for letting her stay, no questions asked, for feeding her and clothing her and for not changing her mind after spending twelve or so hours trying to coax a conversation out of her and receiving nothing.

All she does is nod courtly and all but throw herself towards the staircase.

Claire’s room looks more or less exactly the same as she remembers it from those brief minutes all that time ago. It’s small, and so very Claire . It’s just a twin tucked in a corner near the door, all mismatched pillows and faded duvet, a bunch of trinkets thrown about carelessly. There's no art in the walls.

It still feels loved, though, lived in.

Kais shuts the door behind her and breathes out.

She makes a beeline for the closet, allows herself to smile at the sight of the mess inside. It’s easy to picture Claire being scolded for letting her bedroom become messy and disorganized, and then deciding the obvious course of action is shoving her things in the closet where Jody won’t see them. Kaia digs through heaps of shoes, and plush animals, and weapons, until she finds a soft t-shirt with the logo of some movie from the eighties she vaguely remembers watching when she was a kid printed in the front.

She folds Jack’s clothes and puts them aside, changes into Claire’s shirt.

Then she’s turning off the light, laying on the bed.

She doesn’t sleep.

Doesn’t even try to, really.

There might be a deep-rooted fear somewhere in there, an incessant wondering of exactly what the hell is supposed to happen when she sleeps, now that that other Kaia is dead. Maybe now she won’t ever see the Bad Place again. Or maybe she will- plagued by nightmares, visions, her own memories mixed with the ones of another version of her.

She doesn’t know which option is worse.

In any case, she doesn’t sleep.

She lays in the dark, her eyes snapped shut, and lets the minutes bleed into hours and hours, until the light filtering through the shut door turns off, until Jody, and Alex, and Patience are tucked away in their own bedrooms.

She doesn’t sleep, and she lets time slip through her fingertips, and then, long after she’s drowsy and dozy, fighting sleep for some petulant reason she can’t quite comprehend, then, then she hears the distinct sound of a car’s brakes being pushed down a little too roughly, one of its doors being opened and shut a little too quickly.

Heavy footsteps.

Dangling keys, fumbled with, briefly dropped.

It can only be one person, can’t it?

But still- Kaia holds her breath, holds herself still.

She hears someone getting up from somewhere in the bedrooms, going down the stairs- Jody, probably, and then there are hushed whispers Kaia can’t understand a single word of no matter how hard she tries. There’s some whining, some sighing, and then-

Heavy footsteps.

Creaking stairs.

The door to Claire’s bedroom snaps open.

Kaia scrambles to sit up on the bed, and, for some painstakingly long seconds, she can’t really see anything at all- the light from the hallway allowing her nothing but a shapeless silhouette blocking the door. But then her eyes adjust to the light, and-

And it’s her.

It’s Claire.

She stares right at Kaia, and Kaia stares right back.

It’s funny- because after all that time in the Bad Place, Kaia though she surely must have been misremembering, surely those eyes, so open, so full of emotion, and love, and violence, couldn’t coexist with that face, those features, delicate and dainty.

Turns out she wasn’t misremembering.

The silence stretches, but this one time it doesn’t feel stuffy and uncomfortable, no, it feels- it feels expectant, and Kaia bathes in it, does nothing but note every single detail she possibly can about Claire, every new scar and the way her hair has changed.

They don’t move.

They don’t speak.

They don’t breathe.

And then-

Then Claire opens her mouth like she’s going to speak but no sound comes out save from a small croak, and Kaia sees it before it happens- Claire sobs , cries out something childish and vulnerable and so unlike her that Kaia doesn’t know what to do.

She allows herself all of two seconds to do nothing but watch helplessly before she’s flinging herself forward, crawling on her hands and knees towards the foot of the bed, towards Claire, and she thinks she’s being quick but Claire beats her to it and they meet somewhere in the middle, the both of them on the bed, on their knees, clinging to each other.

“Kaia,” Claire chokes out. “ Kaia, Kaia, Kaia”

And Kaia doesn’t know what to do, what to say, so she just clings to Claire’s shoulders, squeezes her middle, buries her face on the crook of her neck.

Claire cries, she cries as if it’s the only thing she’s ever known how to do, breathing in and out in quick succession, sobbing , whimpering, her heart beating a mile a minute against Kaia’s own. “ Kaia ,” she keeps saying, like a prayer. “ Kaia, Kaia ”

Kaia pulls away but doesn’t let go of her shoulders, doesn’t move far away enough from her that her fingers will leave their spot from where they’re clenched around her waist.

She rests her palms against Claire’s cheeks, wipes at her tears with her thumbs.

The tears keep coming.

She gives up- leaves her hands exactly where they are, though.

“I- I thought,” Claire starts, hiccuping and sniffing. Her eyes are wide, and open, and so very blue. “I thought you were dead, Kaia. I saw you die, I thought you were dead”

Kaia nods, because- what the hell else can she do, anyway? “I know, I know. It’s okay”

But Claire shakes her head side to side, sobs out something ugly and somehow louder. “No, it’s not okay. Jody said-” she cuts herself off to take a big gulp of air. “Shit- Jody said you were there the whole time- alone, Kaia. Alone in- in that place, and- and I left you there. I don’t-”

“Hey, no” Kaia says, interrupting. She lets her hands wander back to Claire’s shoulders, the back of her neck. “No, Claire. It’s- it’s okay”

It’s really not okay.

Not in the slightest.

But-

Claire is shaking, and sniffling, and she keeps looking at her like she’s something precious, and, far more importantly- it's not her fault. It’s so not okay, because Kaia thinks she’s forgotten how to be a person, how to look someone in the eye and not cower in fear, how to stand out in the open without her brain screaming at her that it’s either eat or being eaten, but it’s also not Claire’s fault . Not Claire, Claire who held her hand and promised all sorts of things no one had ever promised to her before, gentle and kind.

“It’s okay, Claire” Kaia repeats, softly, for her and her only. “It’s- I’m here now, it’s okay”

Claire keeps shaking her head. The tears keep rolling off her cheeks.

Kaia-

Kaia does the one thing she can think of.

She surges forward and plants her lips against Claire’s.

It’s a barely there kiss, just a peck of the lips, something small and insignificant, and Kaia kinda wants to light herself on fire the second she does it because it’s not like she’s allowed to do things like this, to even think about wanting things like this, because it’s not like Claire cares about the random teenage junkie she met for half a day some literal years ago half as much as said junkie cares about her, it’s not like Kaia deserves things like this.

She pulls away, and she wants to scream, but she doesn’t.

Claire stands there frozen.

Kaia digs her nails into her palms. “I’m- I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking”

Claire doesn’t really react to her words, but her breath keeps coming in a little jagged, and the tears just won’t coming, and then-

Then Claire whimpers, loud and unabashed.

She whimpers, and before Kaia can begin to wonder what it means, she’s throwing herself forward, and her lips are crashing against Kaia’s, and it’s not short and innocuous and innocent like it was a moment ago, it’s all desperate and wet, full of a feeling that hangs heavy around them, that drowns out everything else.

Claire kisses her, and Kaia kisses back.

They kiss and they kiss and they kiss, and then Claire’s pushing her back against the pillows, straddling her hips and holding on tight.

Sometime between it all Claire breaks into tears once again, sobbing into her mouth, and this one time Kaia breaks into tears too because- fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, she spent an ungodly amount of time stuck in a nightmarish place, days, and months, and years, more time than she thought she could ever survive, thinking she was never going to see another human being ever again, thinking she’d never get the chance to live and kiss and cry.

They cry, and they kiss, and it’s probably the worst make out session that has ever existed, but still - it's good, it’s wonderful, it’s everything Kaia never allowed herself to wish for.

Claire pulls away, suddenly, wordlessly lets herself fall back in the bed, stares at the ceiling while they lay side by side, their shoulders touching.

The sound of their breaths is overtly loud, chests raising and falling fast enough that someone could mistakenly assume they just ran a marathon. Kaia wipes at her tears. Claire doesn’t.

They don’t speak, for a while.

Kaia thinks they should probably discuss whatever the hell just happened, talk about their lives, their pasts and their future.

But she-

She doesn’t really want to.

Not now, anyway.

She twists onto her side, looks Claire in the eye. “Sleep,” she announces, with no other explanation. “We- sleep ”

And Claire nods, looks at her all reverently, borderline worshipping, like she’d do literally anything Kaia asked her for, no questions asked. But she doesn’t move in the slightest.

So Kaia gets up, shuts the bedroom’s door softly, sits back down on the foot of the bed. She takes one of Claire’s boots and unlaces it gently, pulls it off her foot, does the same with the other one. Then she crawls forward and unbuttons her jeans, pulls them of her hips as delicately as she can manage. Claire watches her the whole time, quiet and adoring.

Kaia folds the jeans, sets the boots aside.

Then she curls under Claire’s arm and goes to sleep.

#spn #supernatural #spn season 15 #spn s15e12 #galaxy brain #spn galaxy brain #s15e12 #claire novak #kaia nieves #claire/kaia #dreamhunter #fic #coda #spn coda #spn femslash #wayward sisters #kaia x claire

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chatoyism · 7 years ago

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Just You || Johnny One Shot

→ Summary: You looked at yourself in the mirror and found someone entirely different. The person in the mirror was no longer skinny, beautiful or pretty. Johnny your boyfriend was there to change that thought.

→ Genre: Romance, Inspirational

→ Member: Johnny Seo

→ Words: 1.2k

A/N: This one shot is a very special writing for the girls who look at themselves as someone else instead of themselves. Please take this one shot into consideration as it affects many girls who are insecure about their body type and have low self-esteem. Thank you!

You blankly stared at the mirror in front of you. The room was dimly lit, light shining onto your figure from the moonlight passing through the open window, your curtains flailing around in the wind while you stood there in silence, looking at the person in the reflection.

Who was the person staring back at you? It was a mirror image of someone you don't even know of, someone you've never seen before, someone you've never recognized in your entire life. However, they were staring right back at you.

A soft breeze entered your apartment room, dark and cold with only the night sky to light up the area. It was silent, quiet for a long time. Everything was untouched, left where it was a few hours ago with only you left inside, standing in front of a plain old mirror.

You let a desperate sigh escaped past your lips, letting your vision look down at your figure and graze your hand against your stomach. You just came out of the shower, unclothed with only your undergarments on and a shower robe. You were bare, gaining goosebumps on your skin from the cold wind that passed through. Looking up at the reflection in the mirror, you found out that the person looking back at you had the same stomach.

"Why am I like this..." You muttered softly under your own breath, placing your hand on the fat that hung off your stomach and over your underwear. "Who am I...."

It was annoying you down to the bottom of your heart, the fat that was hanging over your clothes, the noticeable image that could easily be seen through photographs, the large bump and excess muscle on your arms, legs and stomach. You began to notice as soon as you recognized it. It was killing you from the inside. The small piece of skin that hung over your underwear, that was annoying you.

You looked into the mirror once more, looking back at the person who has the same stomach as you.

"They must feel terrible..." You said under your own breath.

Indeed it felt terrible. You considered yourself...

"Fat".

You got carried away with your silence in the dark, falling into a ball of tears as they fell down your cheeks like waterfalls. Every one of them dripped down your face and into your hands, trying to muffle your cries.

What did you do wrong? What did you do to make this happen to you? Were you going too far with your lifestyle?

You continued weeping at your mistakes, crying for minutes on end about the small amount of fat on your skin that you hadn't noticed the sound of the front door of your apartment opening. It opened up and a slim figure walked through with a bag around his shoulders.

"Y/N? I'm back home!" He called for your name to which no reply. He raised an eyebrow at the uncomfortable silence of the room and checked around the deserted living room. His heart started racing, wondering if something had happened to you since he was used to getting an immediate reply.

"Y/N? Are you home?" He tried once more to no avail.

Something's not right...

He walked to the empty kitchen, around the apartment, inside the laundry room and even the outside balcony before walking towards the bedroom door. It was closed, making him let out a small sigh before opening it to reveal you.

His eyes widened a bit at your figure, standing half naked in front of the mirror in the dark, visible tears streaming down your face mixed with your sniffled cries. He immediately placed his bag beside the door and ran to your aid, covering up your bare body and placing his hands on your cheeks.

"Yah, Y/N, what's wrong? Did something happen to you? Are you hurt?" He asked, jumbled up with emotions as his eyes looked at you with hurtfulness. "Why are you crying?"

He wiped your tears away using his thumbs and caressed your cheek lightly, the scent of his cologne filling the air around you, the scent you love and remember. You refused to look him in the eyes properly after what you thought of yourself.

Were you a fool to not look at him?

"J-J-Johnny..." You stuttered saying your boyfriend's name.

"I'm here for you love, say something..." He replied, almost a whisper tone.

"D-Do you think I'm f-fat?"

Johnny's eyes widened suddenly at your question, his voice trapped inside his throat since he didn't know what to say. It was sudden. He just looked into your eyes with a surprised expression.

"W-What makes you say that?" He asked, almost on the verge of breaking down from the feelings messing with him inside his chest.

"Do you think I'm fat? Do you really love a girl like me with fat in her body? Do you even love me?" You blurted at him, making him move back suddenly but not letting go of his grip.

He didn't want to lose you.

"Y/N, this is a stupid question..." He just answered, looking down at the ground in guilt.

"Of course I love you. I love you so much, I don't even know what love is anymore. I've loved you to the point I can go beyond it." HE smiled lovingly, making you look up at him with your reddened eyes.

"You're the reason why I look forward to tomorrow, the smile on your face makes me happy and be glad that it makes my day a lot brighter. You are absolutely perfect to me and there's nothing wrong with it."

You sniffed lightly and wrapped your arms around his built waist, his lean but healthy figure making your arms slip perfectly around him. You fit almost like a jigsaw puzzle as he slipped his arms around your body, embracing you in a sweet and passionate hug.

"But... why did you choose me? There are plenty of girls that are better than me, richer, prettier, smarter and crazier than me. I'm just... average." You said inside his chest as he looked down at you.

"Do you know the reason why I chose you though?" He asked, making you look up.

Your eyes were locked into his, the pupils dilating from the darkness of the night which made him look just as incredible. There was something in his eyes that made you calm down, lighten up a bit at his features.

"I don't love the girls that are rich, smart, pretty, funny, or better than other girls. I chose you because you are..."

"Just you."

He looked deeply into your eyes before he shared a tender peck on your lips making you smile. The grin on his face showed brightly despite the darkness, his sight not looking away from you as he held your hand softly and caressed your cheeks.

"Don't judge yourself by the way you look, because you look beautiful. Every single day."

"I will remember that, Johnny."

"I love you so much, Y/N." He whispered into your ear, closing his eyes and sharing his embrace.

"I love you so much more."

Love Yourself.

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secret-rendezvous1d · 7 years ago

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k but can you imagine being harry's wife and him being in the army and being deployed for like 10 months so you have sex before he leaves and you end up being pregnant and going through the pregnancy alone but when he comes home he meets your baby for the first time and it's v emotional

Oh, my goodness. You’re breaking my heart.

The baby would only be around a month old when he arrives home from his 10-month serving in the army, and as soon as he steps foot in their little cottage with his clunky boots tied to his feet and his bag over his shoulder, he’s already an emotional mess with the aroma of vegetable soup and bread cooking in the kitchen and with the banners hanging around that welcome him home. He can see baby booties and blue baby grows folded on the sofa and ready to be stored away in a wardrobe, and he can see a rocker in the far corner and a bassinet brought down from the bedroom to let the sleeping baby boy have a snooze in when he needed it.

As he walks further into the house, being as quiet as possible to ensure he didn’t startle anyone, he’s met with one of the most beautiful sights; his wife dressed in one of his baggy and checked button-ups, too loose on her body with the rolled up sleeves falling over her arms, with their delicious baby boy tucked up in her arms as she hums softly and sways her hips.

“You’re going to be such a surprise for daddy when he comes home, little man. He’s seen photos of mummy when she was pregnant with you but he’s not seen one of you just yet. Wrote in a letter, specifically, that I wasn’t allowed to show you off to him unless it was face-to-face,” she giggles softly, dragging a gentle finger down his cheek, “you look so much like him, don’t you? My own little piece of daddy to keep when he’s away.”

“Daddy’s back now though,” he grins. The name, the role, he was now given making his chest ache with love and feeling funny on his tongue. He knew he was a dad before he came home; she wrote it in a letter not that long ago that she had a healthy pregnancy and had his mum there as she gave birth in the middle of Harry’s childhood home. But he had never spoken the word aloud. “Daddy’s back for a cuddle.”

Her attention quickly changing to the man standing in the kitchen doorway, dressed in his uniform with tears in his eyes and a face-cracking grin on his face. Arms extended and fingers wiggling, slowly stepping forward towards her.

“Let’s get a look at ‘im.”

And she gently passes over the baby to him, shushing softly as the little boy whined at the sudden change of comfort and being in the arms of a man he was, at the moment, unfamiliar with. Sobs erupting from Harry’s chest as he felt a tear trickle from his eye and down to the tip of his nose, sniffling thickly as it dropped onto the pinstriped baby-grow that was buttoned to his son’s body.

“He’s beautiful,” he whispers raspily, looking towards his wife, “he’s, uh, he’s just gorgeous. We made him. Goodbye sex made this little guy. Can you believe that?”

“Do you want to know his name?”

He nods.

“Edward,” she smiles, cupping the back of his head and running her fingers through the hairs at the nape of his neck, “after his daddy.”

“You-”

He’s choked off by a sob bubbling in his throat, cutting his words short as he nudged his nose into Edward’s forehead and pressed kisses to his delicate skin. Inhaling the intoxicating smell of a new baby mixed with his baby bath gel, cozying him closer to his chest.

“Edward. My son,” he whispers, “I love you.” xx

#harry talk #harry styles imagines

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tttt117-blog · 7 years ago

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[Mabo] ♬

Memory Meme

♬ - a friend/best friend memory

Tomoya wasn’t supposed to be part of TOKIO. The final line-up (at least in the official papers) consisted of Shigeru Joshima on lead guitar and vocals, Tatsuya Yamaguchi on bass, Taichi Kokubun on keyboard, Hiromu Kojima on rhythm guitar, and Masahiro Matsuoka on drums. Tomoya was supposed to debut at the same time as Yoshihiko Inohara, primarily because he didn’t do well in the TOKIO polls, but did much better when seen as a pair linked arm-and-arm by Inohara’s side.

When news of TOKIO’s debut started to spread among the Juniors, Tomoya was happy for them. Of course he was. Disappointed as he might’ve been by the separation – he’d attended so many rehearsals with TOKIO and appeared with them on so many shows, in so many plays, in so many concerts – they were still his friends, and being happy for them was not only expected, but inevitable.

Of the entire TOKIO, however, Matsuoka-kun was the one who spent the most time with him. Tomoya never fully understood his reasons for it (it might’ve been because the moment Tomoya admitted he was inspired to join Johnny’s by seeing Matsuoka on the television, he felt some sort of responsibility in raising him “right”), but it didn’t make him any less grateful. If anything, he thought himself lucky to have Matsuoka as a best friend, which he’d rapidly rose to the status of given how nice he always was when he wasn’t teasing Tomoya to the point of flailing. For example, Matsuoka always walked him home from rehearsals, even going so far as to ride the same train as him even as it went in the opposite direction from where Matsuoka actually lived; in the precarious time between the rumours of TOKIO’s debut and their actual debut especially, Tomoya made it a point to cherish their walks together more than ever before.

In his mind, the moment Matsuoka debuted, they wouldn’t be able to hang out so much any more. It made him lonelier than he was willing to admit.

On one such walk home, Tomoya asked, “Are you excited, Mabo?” And the nickname still felt funny in his mouth – Tomoya’d made it up not too long ago after joking about how Matsuoka’s name was a freakin’ mouthful, and Matsuoka had latched onto it in the exaggerated way Matsuoka tended to do everything – but the grin his senpai gave him spoke volumes of how much he enjoyed hearing it.

“‘course I’m excited,” came Matsuoka’s response. There was a hop to his step that Tomoya found both hilarious and charming, and he laughed a little when Matsuoka started to skip right before skipping along with him. “I mean, c’mon, I joined Johnny’s so people’d see me! Getting famous was always the plan, Nagase.”

“Well, you totally deserve it. You’re the best dancer I know!”

“Y’don’t gotta tell me twice, my man.”

Of course, as Matsuoka was prone to doing, he started to ramble about his plans for the future. About how he believed TOKIO could become an amazing band, about how Johnny-san totally loved them, so surely their road was going to be paved with roses; Tomoya was happy because Matsuoka was happy, but the longer he went on, and the more he spoke, and the more Tomoya started to consider a future where TOKIO was big and popular and amazing, the bigger that awful sense of loneliness grew in his chest.

They were standing at the platform when Matsuoka rounded his rambles off with: “But the best thing about it is that we’ll get to do it together.”

And that was when Tomoya’s head snapped up, expression bewildered. (Without realising, he’d started to keep his gaze on his shoes.)

“What’re you talking about?”

“Kojima-kun’s moving to America,” Matsuoka said plainly, waving his hand to dismiss any of Tomoya’s future questions. “Parents, you know. So I told Johnny-san – if TOKIO’s got a free spot, we should put Nagase in it.”

“What?”

Matsuoka laughed, lightly smacking the top of Tomoya’s head. “You’re part of the band, you moron! As usual, your amazing Mabo pulled through, and now you’re going to debut with us and we’re going to take the world by–”

There was a resounding thud as Tomoya tackled his friend to the floor, his arms wrapped tight around him and his face burying in his chest. Matsuoka, on his part, wailed out about how much that hurt, Nagase, you big gorilla!, but the hand on Tomoya’s head that patted it while Tomoya wept into his shirt was enough proof that he really wasn’t that bothered.

Pulling Tomoya back to look at him, Matsuoka’s expression was stern. “You joined the agency ‘cause of me, okay? Obviously I gotta watch over you – and besides, you can’t do anything without me, anyway.”

“That’s not true,” Tomoya sniffled. And all Matsuoka did was grin in reply, releasing the hand in Tomoya’s hair to pull his backpack up and rustle through the front pocket.

“Whatever, Nagase. Anyway, to celebrate this occasion an’ to be sure you never forget you and I gotta do this thing together, I got you a–”

There was a light clinking sound, and then a shit!, and before Tomoya knew what was happening, Matsuoka was scrambling over the platform on all fours, crawling after God knows what.

“Oh shit, oh shit oh shit oh shit–”

“Matsu–Mabo, do you need any he–”

A palm smacked to the platform and Matsuoka turned around, grinning as he held a closed fist up (his face looked pale with panic, but Tomoya supposed he ought not to bring that up). “Got it!”

And then he was crawling right on back.

If there was anything Tomoya expected, it wasn’t for his hand to be pulled up and for a ring to be shoved right on his middle finger. It fit perfectly, and Tomoya stared blankly at the plain silver band for a good two seconds before looking up at Matsuoka’s proud, proud face.

“Promise ring!” he chirped. “That you and I’ll be in the entertainment world together, forever. From your favourite senpai.”

Tomoya stared. And then looked back at the ring. And then looked at Matsuoka again.

And his cheeks warmed with the heat of a thousand suns, his face buried into his hands in a healthy mix of emotion and embarrassment.

“N-Nagase!” Matsuoka stammered. “What the fuck! At least say thank you, you ungrateful little–!”

Tomoya did, of course. And he said it again when Matsuoka gave him the seat on the train after. And again, when Matsuoka walked him all the way to his house and waited for Tomoya to get inside before saying ‘goodbye’.

Over twenty years later and Tomoya was still saying the same thing, but that was because Matsuoka’d never broken his promise. They were going to stay in the entertainment world together and leave it together – no matter when that might be – and his favourite senpai’d take care of him for all of it.

Tomoya never quite figured out how to pay him back and likely never would.

But Matsuoka already seemed happy enough just hearing him call him ‘Mabo’ – and then, a few years later, ‘Hiro’, too.

#[ HONESTLY YOU PLAY MABO SO WHAT ELSE WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO #based on that story mabo mentioned where he gave tomo a lil ring at the train station ;~; ]#taiyounouta #drabble.

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jolienjoyswriting · 6 years ago

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Another Tail, Ch. II

Chapter II of "Another Tail," an Essence of Ragnarok "Timeline D" story.

Hey, remember when Joseph and Carlos patched things up, in the main timeline? Weeell…

Word count: 4,476 – Character count: 25,922 Originally written: September 18th, 2018

The master of the house returns and is introduced to the latest guest.

[ ← Prev. Chapter | Next Chapter → ]

As the sound of a deep, male voice pierced through the house and out into the backyard, it was hard to tell who was more excited. It was Rose, the daughter of Josephine, who’d reached the screen door, first, whipping it up with an excited squeal of “Daddy!” But… Josephine, herself, seemed pretty happy to hear the voice, too. Joseph, however… He was beside himself with a mix of conflicting emotions… “Hey, kiddo.” He heard the voice call, presumably to greet his daughter. “Hey, hun.” Then, he heard him greet Josephine… followed by, if he’d had to guess, the sound of a loud, wet kiss on the cheek. “Eeeeeww, Daddy…!” Rose had started giggling. Apparently, the kiss was for her. Joseph was having a hard time envisioning what was going on in the house… which was only made worse when he heard his female counterpart tell her husband… “Honey, come outside, we have company!” “Oh?” He chuckled. “Family?” “Uh-huh!” Rose said with excitement. “Unca Theo!” “‘Uncle… Theo?’” “You’ll understand when you see him.”

Josephine was the first to walk outside. She gestured for him to stand up… which, he did. A moment later, he saw the other figure walk into view… and, despite recognizing his voice and guessing who it was… he was still kind of floored to see him standing there, looking him over… “Carlos,” Josephine said to her husband, “meet my… ‘brother!’ Theodore Lithius!” Joseph looked at the dark grey wolf holding the wriggling girl that was hugging his neck. When he noticed the wolf’s intimidating, yellow-and-red eyes point his way… he knew he was being scanned… However… “Have… we met?” The male fox… had not been expecting that question. He assumed Carlos would recognize him right away, even if he did have an ankle-length coat and some extra fur hiding his face. But… going by the curious expression and genuine tone of his words, Carlos had no idea of who he was. “Y-you, um…” At least… “You!” Not at first.

Right after Joseph tried to speak, Carlos’ expression changed from one of friendly curiosity… to one of furious surprise. His fur was bristling, his ears had shot back, and his tail was hanging low. However… “Daddy…?” Joseph hadn’t been the only one to notice.

Carlos actually had to take a second to compose himself and clear his throat. He’d been ready to do… something… to Joseph… something that the fox probably wouldn’t have liked, if he knew the wolf. But, that simple, confused, one-word question brought him back to his senses…

“Go play, pumpkin,” the wolf calmly told his daughter as he lowered her to the ground. “I need to have a word with… ‘Uncle Theo.’” “Oh, no!” Rose looked over at Joseph with a worried expression. “What’d you do, Unca Theo?!” “I-it’s… nothing,” Josephine suddenly found herself lying. “There’s just… there’s a… a reason Uncle Theo became a wanderer, is all.” “You’re… you’re not gonna hurt Unca Theo… Right?” Carlos looked down. His daughter was hugging his waist and looking up at him with pleading, golden eyes. She looked genuinely upset, too. “Go play, Rose,” the wolf coolly ordered. “This is grown-up stuff.” “Whatever he did, please don’t hurt him…! He’s a good-guy!” she whimpered. “You don’t beat up goo–” “Go. Play.” The little vixen winced, then. Her father hadn’t yelled at her… and, really… it didn’t seem like he’d needed to. That stern voice of his was more-than-enough to get her off of him. A second later, Josephine escorted her inside the house… then, she shut the glass door, leaving her husband… and, her houseguest… outside. Alone.

“Who are you.” Joseph gave a blink of his golden eye. Carlos, despite his previous anger, had addressed him calmly… though, somewhat curtly. “I’m… starting to wonder that, myself…” he countered, rubbing the back of his head. He winced, then. The wolf had taken a step toward him. “I ain’t gonna ask, again,” he simply said, leaving a powerful silence in his wake. “I’m… I’m Joseph,” the fox answered, feeling himself grow nervous. “Joseph Theodore Lithius. I–” But, before he could continue… “Gack–!” Carlos had grabbed him by the collar and held him up against the side of the house.

“I told you…” he said with a noticeable growl, “I’m not gonna ask, again.” “And, I told you…!” the fox said as he wriggled in the wolf’s grip, “I’m Joseph-freaking-Lithius!” “Liar!” A slam against the wall knocked the breath out of the fox. “Joseph’s dead! He’s gone!” Carlos exclaimed, glaring into the fox’s one good eye. “You can’t be him!” “I am, Ash damn it!” “I killed him, myself!!” the wolf snarled, his temper flaring. “You. Are. Not. Joseph!!” “I–” The fox blinked, then. “You what…?” “I’m asking the questions, fucker!”

The wolf slammed him against the side of the house for a second time, making Joseph grunt. The second one was much harder than the first… so hard, in fact, that it cracked the layer of stucco on the outside of the very solid wall. “Are you gonna tell me who the fuck you are?” Carlos said in a calmer tone. “Or, do I have to kill you, too?” “Honey, enough!” Carlos looked to the side. His wife had come outside. A quick glance near her told him that Rose was nowhere to be seen, though… so, he continued to press the male fox.

“This asshole thinks he can waltz in here, lookin’ like a fuckin’ ghost… upset my family… and, what? You want me to just let him go?!” “He didn’t do anything wrong, Carlos!” she exclaimed as she walked his way. “Why are you so angry?!” “What part of ‘lookin’ like a fuckin’ ghost’ didn’t you get, Jo?! Joseph’s dead! This fucker can’t be Joseph!” “He’s not dead… I-I’m not dead!” the girl quietly murmured… “Joseph is dead!” the wolf roared, giving his captive another rattle. “Dead, dead, dead!!” “I am not dead, you asshole!!” Both Joseph and Carlos blinked, then, looking directly at Josephine. She looked absolutely furious… but, at the same time, extremely upset. She was gritting her teeth, her ears were folded back, and most notably… her clenched eyes were getting watery.

“What… what are you cryin’ for?” the wolf asked, suddenly unsure of himself. “Joseph’s dead, not you.” “I am Joseph!” “N-no. No, you’re not. You’re Josephine. You’re my wife. You’re…” “I am Joseph Theodore Lithius!” Josephine half-shouted, stomping her foot. “I was born Joseph Theodore Lithius! I probably would’ve died Joseph Theodore Lithius, had you not drugged me and made me yours!” “You did what?!” Joseph yelped, then, as the larger wolf threw him away like so much trash. He’d completely lost interest in him. However… “You’re talking crazy-talk…” He didn’t seem the least bit sympathetic forward his wife’s words.

“You’re ‘Josephine Tanya Magnus,’ hun…” he told her, sounding like he was trying to convince her. “We’ve been over this.” “You’re not… getting it!” she shouted, shaking her head. “You keep acting like I died–” “You aren’t dead,” he corrected. “Joseph is.” “I am Joseph, you asshole!!” “No, you’re Josephine.” He gestured with one hand as he repeated, “My wife?” “Do you have a mental block or something?!” “Do you? Why do you keep sayin’ you’re someone you’re not?” “Because… I… am…!”

“Hun.” He put his hands on her shoulders, looking right into her crying eyes. “Look at me. Listen to me. Your name is ’Josephine Tanya Magnus.’ Your identity is Josephine Magnus. I married Josephine Magnus.” “You married Josephine Lithius!” she angrily corrected, trying to pull away. “I married the most beautiful, wonderful, fun-loving vixen in the world,” he told her with a smile. “Her name is Josephine and I love her with all my heart.” “I-if you love me so much…” She sniffled, shaking as he kept her captive. “Why are you doing this to me…? Why do you keep doing this…?” “It’s because I love you that I’m doing this.” She gave a blink. The wolf was giving his most compassionate smile.

“You’re Josephine Tanya Magnus… formerly Josephine Tanya Lithius…” he quietly told her, pulling the vixen into a hug. “You’re fun and funny… you’re playful and flirty… you’re warm and wonderful. I’ve never loved anyone like I love you… and, I never want to see you cry because of something I did. But, what you’re doing, now?” He shook his head. “It’s not healthy. It’s not right.” The wolf gave her a squeeze, then. “Joseph is dead, hun. Joseph died eight years ago. We were both there. Remember?” “I… but…” “Shh… it’s okay…” Josephine closed her eyes as her husband rubbed her back. “I didn’t like him… but, it upset me, too. Because, it upset you. But, what upsets me, even more, is what his death did to you. I get scared, when you say things like ‘I’m Joseph’ and… and, I worry that, someday, you might do something we’ll both regret.” He leaned back, then, bringing his hands up to her face. As he looked into her eyes, he brushed her tears away with his thumbs, smiling with compassion and love at his wife.

“Someday…” he told her, “you’ll be better. Someday, you’ll finally come to terms with Joseph’s death, like I did.” “B-but, I’m–” A finger on her lips silenced the vixen. “It’s okay. I’ll be here for you… We’ll work through it like we have for the last eight, blissful years of our lives. And, even after you’re finally better?” He leaned down, then, gently pressing his nose to hers. “I’ll never-ever leave your side, Josephine… “C… Carlos…” “You’re stuck with me,” he whispered, drawing inward… “‘til death do we part…” And, when he pressed his lips to hers… she completely melted.

Joseph… the “other” Joseph… had watched the whole scene play out. He hadn’t even bothered to stand back up. All he could do was just watch… Watch, from the point where Josephine had intervened… to the deep kiss and loving embrace they shared in the present. He’d seen the actions, felt the emotions, and heard the words. He’d experienced all of it. And…

It made him sick to his stomach.

“Are you kidding me?” “Oh.” Carlos turned his head away from his wife’s, shooting a somewhat unconcerned glare his way. “You’re still here.” “Yes. Yes, I am.” Joseph got to his feet, returning the glare with a bit more anger. “And, I have to say… you’re… a real piece of work, Carlos.” “Yeah?” He shrugged before he picked his placated wife up, cradling her. “Ask me if I give a shit.” The fox’s fur bristled and his face stiffened. “You… you know exactly what you just did. Don’t you?” “Yeah.” He smirked and gave the fox a sinister sort of look as he said, “I calmed my wife down after you upset her.” “Y–” And, that’s all he could say, even before Carlos left, shutting the door behind him.

Joseph absolutely… positively… could not believe it. His counterpart… was wrapped around that manipulative wolf’s little finger! If she’d had truly ever been “Joseph…” which, he was starting to doubt… she certainly wasn’t, anymore. Apparently, she hadn’t been, for some time. And, unless he missed his guess… anytime the topic was brought up, Carlos managed to convince her that “Joseph” was truly dead and that she was having a schizophrenic episode of some kind; a disassociation of identity, if you will. Joseph may have had a lot of problems and questionable interests… but, he had never… ever… done anything… like what he’d just watched the Carlos that married that vixen do. But, the worst part about bearing witness to all of that?

There was nothing he could do about it.

Carlos seemingly had all the cards, in the situation. He didn’t even need to threaten her to get her to stop talking about it. All he had to do… was tell her that he loved her… that he cared about her… and that he would always be there, for her. Joseph didn’t really doubt any of that was true… but, the way he used such words to outright control his wife… rewrite her memories to suit his needs… It was almost enough to make him try and do something. But… “It’s pointless…”

Whatever had happened… however, he’d managed to get to wherever he was… Joseph knew that, if Josephine was actually him… anything he did wouldn’t matter. She loved him… just like he loved Hope. Anything that he could possibly say or do to change Josephine’s situation… would likely just upset things. And, really, it wasn’t his place to try. As much as he absolutely loathed Carlos for doing what he did… what he’d been doing, he guessed… they really did seem like a warm, loving couple. And, knowing the wolf as well as he did… he knew that, even if he had to fool himself to be happy… he really was happy. And, so was she.

“Ash… damn it… I don’t need this.”

With no real reason to stick around, Joseph decided it would be best to just head home. He had money. He could call a cab, he figured. But, as he headed toward the fence to jump it… “Unca Theo?” He heard a familiar voice.

The fox turned around and looked down. Standing there was the four-foot-nothing half-fox, half-wolf daughter of Josephine and Carlos… Rose Magnus.

“Where ya goin’, Unca Theo?” she curiously asked. “Ya didn’t finish yer sammich!” “I…” He hesitated before saying, “Unca Theo and… and your dad…” “You’re not really my unca, are you?” He blinked, then. “What?” “You’re not really my unca,” she repeated with a bright smile. “But, I wish ya were…” The girl stepped forward, hugging the fox, making him blink in confusion… “I… how did…?” “Dunno who ya really are…” she said, ignoring his words, “but… you’ll always be my favoritest unca, Unca Theo.” Joseph went silent as the girl held him close. He almost couldn’t believe that she’d figured it out. But… “How long…” he started, getting her to look up. “How long have you known?” “Mommy’s a bad liar,” she said with a giggle. “You, too! Guess ya share more than looks, huh?” “More than you know. Allegedly…” “Dunno what that means!” she laughed. Then… she frowned and cuddled into him. “Come back soon. Okay? E-even if Daddy doesn’t love you… I do! A-and… that’s good ‘nuff for me!” “Rose… C-c’mon, now…” He couldn’t take it. That little eight-year-old girl was acting so mature and being so understanding… She clearly didn’t know what was really going on… she couldn’t have! Even he couldn’t make heads-or-tails of most of it! But, seeing her act like an adult… and, hearing her say goodbye without even trying to stop him from going… It was breaking his heart…

“If you wanna cry…” His ears perked. He’d heard her sniffle. “It’s okay…” she said in a wavery voice. “M-Mommy says… muh… Mommy says…” She shuddered and gave a whimper. And… that was all Joseph could take.

“You don’t have to be brave for my sake, little Rose…” he said as he knelt down and hugged her tight against his body. “If anyone has to be brave… it’s me. Seeing you try and be–” “I-I… I am brave!” she exclaimed, completely breaking down in tears. “Like Mommy! Like Daddy…!” “You are… You’re super-brave, Rose. I…” He hesitated… “I’ll be back. Someday.” “I dunno what’s goin’ on or why it can’t be fixed!!” she bawled. “It’s not fair!!” “Life seldom is, kiddo…” And… that’s when Joseph finally let himself cry, too.

After an extremely emotional scene in the backyard of the Magnus residence, Joseph finally took his leave – but, only after Rose packed his half-sandwich and some cookies into a handkerchief for him… albeit, in secret. Once he’d walked out of the woods where they lived, he pulled his cell phone from his coat pocket… only to notice something disheartening.

“It’s… broken. Are you kidding me?!”

He spat a curse, realizing that it must have gotten crushed after Carlos hucked him across the yard. Without his phone, he had little other choices than to follow the pathway out to the road… then, follow the road to… wherever it went. Joseph had been to Carlos’ house exactly twice in his life… so, he genuinely had no idea which way was which. To make matters worse, it was high-noon… meaning that he wouldn’t have a definite answer as to which way was east or west for at least fifteen minutes. Unsure of what else to do, he decided that desperate times… called for desperate measures.

“What the shit, you old fuck! Are you fuckin’ insane?!” The driver of a compact car glared at the fox through his windshield. “Don’t answer that,” he grumbled. “You look fuckin’ crazy.” “I’m not crazy. Uh, ignoring the fact that I just leaped into oncoming traffic, I mean,” he added with a rub to the back of his head. “Listen. I’m in a fuckin’ hurry, here. So…” “I’ll give you 10,000 Rai to take me to Muramasa.” The man in the car narrowed his eyes. And, about five seconds later… “Yeah, alright.” He leaned over and opened the door to his car, letting the fox in.

“You’re fuckin’ lucky I was headin’ that way, ya crazy-ass idiot…” The driver shook his head as he put the vehicle into gear. “Nearly shit myself when ya jumped at me, too…” “Thanks,” Joseph said as he ignored all the vulgarity and comments. “Here’s your Rai.” When Joseph handed over two 5,000-Rai notes, the guy told him… “Keep it. Shit-sack.” He looked at the man, then. Was he… chuckling? “The story’s worth at least that much,” he explained. “Plus, I don’t take hand-outs.” “Can I… at least pay for your gas?” “Yeah, alright,” he repeated. “Muramasa, though, huh? Farmer’s market?” “Ha–” He blinked his good eye. “Is everyone psychic, today…?” “Nah.” The guy grinned. “Just got a keen intuition. That… and, that’s where I’m goin’, anyway. So, fuck you, if you were headin’ anywhere else!” “That’s… that’s fair.” “I like you, old man.” He gave another grin as he said, “Ya aren’t all prissy about a few fucks ‘n shits.” “Eh. I’ve heard worse.” “Have t’ take your word on that, I guess. Heh.”

The trip back to Muramasa felt like a long one. Without Rose to talk his ear off, all Joseph had for entertainment was the trees and the cityscape… neither of which were particularly interesting. The man who was driving him also didn’t seem very talkative, having turned the radio on almost immediately after he’d said his foulmouthed piece. Eventually, though… they arrived at their destination.

“See ya later, shit-stain!” the man said as he walked in a random direction. “Gonna get me some fuckin’ ‘maters!” “Have fun. Thanks, again.” “Thank you for the gas money! And, the bat-shit story!” Joseph chuckled, then, before turning back to the parking lot and looking around. It didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for… “There’s my bike.”

The fox walked a short distance to an arbitrary spot where a motorcycle sat. He gave it the once-over… twice… before he felt confident enough to mount it. With meeting another version of himself, earlier, he couldn’t be too careful, he figured. A moment later, he reached into his jeans pocket and withdrew a key, popping it into the safety switch on the bike. “There’s only one place I can think to go, to figure this crap out…” he told himself as he kick-started the bike. “The Tower of Masamune.” With his destination in mind, the fox grabbed his helmet from the saddlebag… only to realize something. “My hat. I– I let my hat in the back of– oh, Ash damn it all!” He’d left his hat in the back of Josephine’s car… “Well…” he muttered as he slapped on his brain-bucket, “I can always get another one. I have more pressing matters to attend to, anyway…” That micro-crisis sorted, he drove off to the southeast of town.

Just as the trip from Masamune to Muramasa had been, the trip back was fairly quiet and without incident. He was relieved to see the tower piercing the horizon, roughly forty minutes later… but, as he did, he suddenly wondered about something. “I wonder if that class is even in session, today…” Suddenly, his plan seemed a little less certain… However… “I can always go home… What’s a day’s wait, when something like this is going on…?” He paused… “Maybe… maybe, a hotel would be better… I don’t even know if I have a home, here.”

He hadn’t given it much thought, until that moment… but, with Carlos acting the way he had… not to mention coming up with the story that, apparently, he’d been telling Josephine for eight years… and, of course, meeting Josephine, herself… he had to wonder… Had he ended up in a completely alternate version of the Ragnarok he was used to…? “Kinda weird that Josephine and I didn’t switch places…” he told himself as he drove toward the Tower. “But… Kris always said stuff like this could happen. Heh, I thought she was just yankin’ my chain, this whole time, too… Man, will she be interested to hear about this, when I get back. If… I get back…” He frowned… then, he shook his head. He’d never know until he tried.

“Welcome to the Tower of Masamune! Landmark, college, and home of the Dancing Mad regionals for five years running! How can I help you?”

The clerk behind the counter of the Tower main floor happily smiled at Joseph as he stood there. She looked strikingly familiar, to the fox… “H… Hope?!” The brown-haired human girl with green eyes blinked before asking, “I’m sorry, who?” “I… You look like…” He cleared his throat before saying, “Sorry, n-never mind. Is… Professor Kristian Sanders in? Or… er, Professor… Kristian Magnus?” That didn’t make much sense to him. If Carlos married Josephine… then, he wouldn’t have married Kris. But, he figured he’d try both names, just-in-case.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the clerk said with a confused expression, “but, no one by either of those names teaches here.” “Hang– hang on… Who’s teaching the class, ‘The Theory of Magic?’” “Professor Marcus? I like to call him, ‘Marcus the Magus.’ He’s amazing!” He ignored the clerk as she giggled. What she’d said, though… somehow, made even less sense to him. Kris had gone to college to teach magic, years prior… and, after finally getting her degree, took over for her personal teacher, Professor Marcus, who had apparently quit to travel the world… or, something. Had Marcus come back and taken over, for her?

“Ah! Speak-of-the-devil! Back from lunch, Professor?” Joseph spun around… and, he couldn’t believe his eye! Standing directly behind him was the familiar form of a young-looking man with brown hair, half-moon glasses, and a vest-and-shirt combo with slacks… He looked almost exactly like the fox had remembered, too! “You!” he said before he could stop himself. “Me.” Marcus gave Joseph a stern look. “You’re late.” “A– wuh… h-huh?!” “Miss Faun.” The girl stood at attention. “Yes, Mr. Magus, sir?” “Send a notification to my students. Classes are canceled for an indeterminate amount of time and no one is to come into or come out of my classroom without my say-so.” She tilted her head, at that. “Um… sir?” “If there’s any trouble with the board,” he said with a completely straight face, “send them my way and I will address their concerns.” “Um… Y-yes, sir!” “Oh, and… Miss Faun?” The bright-eyed girl gave a blink. He was smiling at her. “You look very nice, today.” “Ah, gosh…!” She hid her face and gave a hyper sort of giggle. “Th-thank you!” “Come along, then.” Without even explaining himself, Marcus walked through the gate to the left of the front desk. Joseph, not knowing what else to do… just followed him. At least, until he heard a loud siren go off. Penny was quick to come over and investigate. “S-sorry, sir! All metal items must go in the basket! School rules!” “Ah, sonova…” The worst part? He knew that…

“Talk.”

Joseph blinked as he watched Marcus lean against his desk. The professor had locked both doors into his long classroom and was giving the fox is undivided attention. However… “Professor… I–” “There will be time for questions later,” the teacher interrupted. “Talk.” “What… do you want me to say?” He gestured with one hand. “Tell me about your day.” The fox gave a blink. “I… I’m sorry?” “Humor me.” Joseph scratched the back of his head. “Okay…” And, with that… he told Professor Marcus about his day, starting from when he’d gotten up and ending at his arrival at the Tower.

“Interesting,” the human commented after the fox finished. “Very interesting.” “Yeah, well… ‘interesting’ isn’t the word I’d use.” “‘Disorienting?’ ‘Confusing?’” the teacher asked. “Or, perhaps, something a bit more uncouth?” Joseph smirked. “You know, it’s not very polite to poke around in someone’s head without their permission.” “Please, Mr. Lithius…” Marcus grinned as he said, “Mental powers need not apply when one has mental prowess. You are like an open book, to me… even without rooting around in that disorganized mess you call a mind.” The fox’s smirk widened in response. “Cocky as ever, I see…”

“That aside,” the other male said, changing the topic, “this is quite the interesting situation. And, you noticed no changes to your surroundings or your person at any point during the day? During your drive, for example?” “Nope.” The fox shook his head. “I didn’t see anything different.” “I did not ask–” His brow furrowed. “Ah, my apologies. I had forgotten your… disconnection… with the elemental leylines.” “So, what? You’re saying that if I could use magic, I would’ve noticed?” “Your aura,” he commented as he made a circular gesture with one hand, “is in flux. And, I do not mean some poppycock about ‘feelings.’” The fox suspiciously furrowed his brow. “Was… was that a shot at Miri?” “To put it simply,” Marcus said, ignoring the question, “your personal energy signature is in conflict with that of the surrounding area. Which is to say, you don’t belong here.” “Well, yeah.” Joseph shrugged. “I figured that much out.” “The question is… what will happen, first?” The vulpine leaned in, giving a blink. “Will your energy naturally realign and attune back to its the proper vibration frequency, returning you from whence you came? Or…” “‘Or?’ What, ‘or?’” He blinked. “Why is there an ‘or?’” “Or, will the vibration frequencies attuned to this dimension break you down into base components and restructure you into something more suitable to its needs such as, say, a tree? Or, perhaps, a large, moss-covered stone? Yes, this should be quite interesting. Hm hm hmm…”

#fiction #Essence of Ragnarok #Year 2054 #Timeline D #Another Tail #original characters #Joseph Lithius #Josephine Lithius #Rose Magnus #Carlos Magnus #Professor Marcus #slice of life #drama

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