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redroomreflections · 1 month ago

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What's Good For The Heart

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

A Family of Her Own Series

7/9

Masterlist | General Masterlist

w/c: 6k

Summary: After the fall of the Avengers, Natasha Romanoff returns home to her secret family—a life she's carefully hidden away for years. Struggling to balance her role as a mother and wife while avoiding the dangers of her past, Natasha is forced to make difficult decisions that impact her loved ones.

This Chapter: R returns to New York and gets a visit from Ross.

Flying always made you feel a bit restless. As you sat back in the plush leather seat, rubbing your temple, you sighed, thinking about the coming days. The hum of the engines, the slight turbulence—everything seemed more pronounced now that you were alone. Without Natasha or the kids to keep your mind distracted, the anxiety simmered just beneath the surface, creeping into every quiet moment.

Your eyes drifted over to Ricky Mason, who sat across from you, tapping away on his tablet. He wasn’t as talkative by any means, which you were grateful for, but even in his silence, you could pick up on something. A glance here, a subtle shift there. It wasn’t bold or overt, but you could read people well enough to know Ricky's admiration for Natasha went beyond simple friendship. He'd been utterly dumbfounded to know you existed and that you and Natasha were married.

“So,” He said finally, breaking the quiet, “I’ve gotta say, getting this whole thing set up… fake flight logs, the new identities—it’s pretty impressive, even for me.”

You hummed in response, half-listening as you gazed out the window, watching the clouds drift by. "You've outdone yourself," you replied absently, not really in the mood for small talk.

He chuckled, shifting in his seat as if he wanted to say more but wasn’t sure how. "You know... Romanoff’s a hell of a woman," he added, his tone casual but not quite neutral.

That caught your attention. You glanced over at him, studying his face, the way he avoided looking directly at you now. "Yeah, she is," you replied evenly, not giving much away.

Ricky cleared his throat, pretending to focus on his tablet again, but you could sense the undercurrent in his words. He wasn’t being bold, not openly flirting, but there was something in the way he brought her up. A hint of admiration that went beyond simple respect for her skills.

"I mean, not to get personal or anything," he continued, his voice carefully measured now, "but it’s impressive. Everything she’s done. Everything you’ve both managed to pull off." He gave a small, nervous laugh, his bravado dimmed just enough to make you notice. "Takes a special kind of person to handle all of that."

You leaned back in your seat, keeping your gaze on him. "It does," you said, your tone soft but pointed. "And she’s a lot more than what people think."

Ricky nodded, perhaps sensing that he’d treaded into sensitive territory. "No doubt," he replied quickly, his eyes darting away again. He seemed to catch himself before going any further, shifting the conversation back to logistics. "So, we’ll be touching down in Jersey soon. I’ll make sure the rental car is ready when you land."

"Good," You said, letting the tension ease out of your shoulders. You didn’t need to make a scene, but you wanted to be sure he understood the unspoken boundary. Ricky wasn’t dumb, and he probably felt the shift in the air.

The rest of the flight passed in relative silence, with only the hum of the engines and the occasional click of Ricky’s tablet filling the cabin. You tried to focus on the plan ahead—getting to your old apartment in Jersey, preparing for the next steps—but your thoughts kept drifting back to Natasha and the kids. You pictured them on their way to the Lake District, hidden away in the quiet beauty of the English countryside.

Natasha would be in disguise, of course, her dark wig and brown contacts making her almost unrecognizable. Stella would be chattering non-stop about sharks, and Nicky, ever serious, would be watching everything with wide, curious eyes. It comforted you to know they’d be safe, at least for a while. But the weight of Ross’s ultimatum hung over you, pressing against the fragile peace you had tried to build for your family.

Soon, you’d be back in New Jersey, driving to Brooklyn, New York, to the old apartment you still kept as a backup. It felt strange, being separated from Natasha and the kids, but you knew it was necessary. You’d regroup soon, and until then, you had to trust that Natasha could keep them hidden.

"Landing soon," Ricky said, breaking the quiet again as he checked his watch. "You ready?"

You nodded, forcing a small smile. "As ready as I’ll ever be."

*********

The familiar scent of dust and stale air hit you as you stepped into the lobby of your old apartment building. The place felt both foreign and strangely comforting. You took a moment to absorb your surroundings, noting the brand-new carpet, the fluorescent overhead lights, and the chipped paint on the walls. You could feel the weight of time pressing down as you walked towards the elevator, your suitcase dragging behind you. Your mind was racing with thoughts of Natasha and the kids, imagining them nestled safely in the Lake District while you braced for whatever Ross had planned. You had spotted the strategically placed black SUVs parked outside, and a couple of suited men standing in the lobby, their eyes scanning the room like hawks. You turned with a look over your shoulders to see Ross sitting, sifting through a magazine, as if he'd been here before.

You stepped over to him with a frown. “Ah, you’re home,” he said nonchalantly, his eyes flicking up to meet yours.

“I don’t need a welcome committee,” You shot back, crossing your arms over your shoulders. “Nice job tailing me from the airport. Stalking is a new low for you.”

Ross set the magazine down, a smirk playing on his lips. “You know, I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t hiding Natasha. You’ve got a lot of connections. It’s no wonder you managed to evade us for so long.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, feeling annoyance flare within you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I've been right here this whole time."

“Is that so?” Ross leaned back in his chair, feigning casual interest. "So, what have you been up to then? Any good stories?"

"No, and even if there were, I wouldn't tell you."

"Well, I suppose we can catch up later," Ross said, his tone growing more serious. "Does your wife have anything to do with the underwater prison being broken into? I'm missing a few fugitives."

"Underwater prison?" You repeated, keeping your voice steady. "What are you talking about? Is that ethical?"

"Oh, please," Ross replied, rolling his eyes. "We both know who you're protecting. Don't play dumb. Coming from seeing her?"

“I’m flying home from seeing a family friend who’s sick,” You replied, trying to sound convincing while suppressing the urge to roll your eyes. You knew he’d probably try to verify your story, but you were counting on his arrogance. “If you want to waste your time interrogating me, fine. But I don’t have any information for you.”

“Really? You expect me to believe you don’t know where she is? The way you’ve been so careful, it’s obvious you’re hiding something.” Ross’s tone shifted slightly, the menace lurking beneath his words bubbling to the surface.

"Hmm," You tilted your head. "You're grasping at straws."

Ross let out a dry laugh, irritation flashing across his face. “You know, it’s funny. I would’ve expected you to be smarter. You can’t keep hiding her forever. If you don’t cooperate, you’ll go down with her.”

“So, you gave me a week to what? Come and threaten me in person?” You crossed your arms defiantly, refusing to let his intimidation tactics rattle you.

“No, not really. I came to give you a warning,” Ross replied, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. “You can either turn over the location of your wife or face the consequences. Do you think she would be happy if you did time for her?”

“Is that your big threat? Jail time?” You laughed lightly, shaking your head. “Because if that’s all you’ve got, Ross, then you really are losing your touch. I know exactly what she would want me to do, and it wouldn’t involve betraying her.”

Ross’s expression darkened, his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. “You’re playing a dangerous game, y/n.”

“And you’re still failing to realize just how far I’m willing to go to protect myself. You think you can intimidate me? You think you can scare me? You’re mistaken,” You shot back, your voice steady and confident.

He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing, a vein twitching at his temple. “You don’t know what you’re up against. You’re just a pawn in a game far bigger than you can comprehend.”

“Maybe,” you said, leaning closer, matching his intensity. “But I’m not the one who’s seething with frustration because I can’t find my target. How does that feel, Ross? To be outmaneuvered by someone you underestimated?” You could see the anger boiling in his expression, the way his hands clenched into fists.

Ross glared at you, seething, but you pressed on. “Every second you waste on me is a second closer to you losing your grip. I may not know where Natasha is, but I know how to keep you off balance. You're here because you’re afraid of what might happen if you push too hard. I’ve got everything to lose, and you’re just a cog in the machine.”

“You’ll regret this,” he spat, his voice low and threatening.

“No, Ross, I think you will,” you said, your gaze unwavering. “You’ve already lost, and the more you pursue this, the worse it’s going to get for you. You’re not just after Natasha; you’re threatening her family. That’s a game you’ll never win.”

You turned away from him, leaving him with nothing but his seething anger and the echo of your words hanging in the air. You had taken the upper hand, and for now, that was enough to give you a bit of hope in this twisted game. You finally took a deep breath as you stepped into the apartment you hadn't been in years.

Your footsteps echoed on the hardwood floor as you moved further into the apartment. The familiar scent of dust and stale air drifted around you, mixing with the lingering scent of old books and lavender. You'd asked the housekeeper, courtesy of your own connections, to light candles and make it smell as lived-in as possible. As you moved further into the room, the sunlight streaming through the windows cast long shadows on the floor, and the memories came flooding back.

The apartment was smaller than the one you'd shared with Natasha, but the space was still comfortable and well-appointed. You could remember the first time you'd brought Natasha here, the way her eyes had widened as she took in the view of the city from the living room windows. She'd looked at you with a soft smile, the warmth in her gaze taking your breath away. It had been a simpler time then, before the chaos of the Avengers, the Accords, and all the pain and suffering that followed.

You moved further into the apartment, glancing around at the sparsely furnished rooms. A small kitchen with a worn countertop, a living room with a single sofa, and a bedroom with a queen-sized bed. The furniture was basic, and the only real decoration was a vase of flowers on the kitchen table. It was a far cry from the luxury of your home in Missouri or even Versailles but it would do for now. You just needed to spend a week here and things would blow over.

You dropped your bag on the floor and moved to the bedroom, flopping down on the mattress. The bed was firm and the sheets were clean, which was all that mattered. You closed your eyes, letting out a long sigh. The past few days had been a whirlwind, and it was finally catching up to you. The weight of the situation was sinking in, and you could feel the tension mounting.

You lay there for a moment, taking stock of everything. Thoughts of Ross crept back into your mind, that encounter still fresh. You could still see the way he had leaned forward, his anger barely contained. You’d managed to hold your ground, but the threats loomed heavy over you like a storm cloud. The thought of him lurking around, watching your every move, made your skin crawl. You didn’t want to think about what might happen if he managed to uncover Natasha's location.

You rolled onto your back, staring up at the ceiling, forcing yourself to breathe deeply. You reminded yourself that Natasha was safe for now, tucked away in the Lake District with the kids. As long as you could keep Ross off their trail, they’d remain untouched. That was your priority, and it had to be enough to keep you focused.

You pushed yourself off the bed and walked back into the living room, taking a moment to assess your surroundings. You needed to make this place feel like home, at least for the time being. You moved to the kitchen, rifling through the cupboards to see what you could find. It was mostly empty, but a few essentials remained—some instant coffee, a box of cereal, and a half-empty jar of peanut butter.

With a shrug, you grabbed the coffee, thankful for even that small comfort. As you prepared the drink, the familiar aroma began to fill the air. You went through every nook and cranny of the apartment to ensure it wasn't bugged. The last thing you needed was Ross listening in on your conversations. When that was done, you settled down on the couch, cradling the warm mug in your hands. You let your mind wander, trying to process everything that had happened. The Accords had turned heroes into targets, painting them with a broad picture of distrust. What did this mean for Natasha? Would she be forced into hiding for good? You could picture her, always the fighter, her fiery spirit undiminished, but the constant pressure of being hunted was a different kind of battle.

The thought of her being pursued simply existing as herself—an agent, a devoted mother, and your wife—made your heartache. She had always been so committed to her beliefs and her teammates, but now that loyalty had come with a price. The idea of being forced to choose between her family and her duty as an Avenger gnawed at you.

Would she even want to return to that life? The thrill of being an Avenger seemed to dim when it came to family safety. You could imagine Natasha standing at that crossroads, the weight of her choices pressing down on her.

As you sipped your coffee, you wondered about the future. The world seemed to be changing around you, shifting like unstable ground. You hoped you would find a way to navigate this storm, but the unpredictability of it all was unsettling. You thought about the time you spent together, the laughter and love that filled your shared moments. Would you still be able to create that kind of life with all this looming over you?

Your phone buzzed, snapping you out of your thoughts. You glanced down to see a message from Natasha, and a wave of relief washed over you. You opened it eagerly, wanting to hear what she had to say.

Hey love, just checking in. We’re settling in nicely. Stella is already asking about the sheep! How's everything?

You smiled at the message, imagining Natasha sitting in the peaceful surroundings of the Lake District. Everything's fine, just got settled in. Ross showed up at the apartment, but I managed to handle him. Keeping an eye on things, don’t worry.

A few minutes later, a new message popped up. That bastard, I can't believe he tracked you down.

I'm surprised he hasn't shown up at the lake house yet, you joked, trying to keep the tone light.

You're right, he must be losing his touch. Or I'm a really great spy.

You chuckled, the brief moment of levity feeling welcome. So, how are the kids doing?

They're excited. Stella says it feels like home. Btw the number of tantrums she's had in the span of two days has been baffling.

Ah, I miss them and you already, you typed, the longing for your family bubbling to the surface.

I miss you too, Natasha replied, and you could hear the sincerity in her voice.

You bit your lip, knowing you probably shouldn't but pressing the call button anyway. She answered on the first ring. "Hey, y/n," Natasha's voice was warm and soft, like a gentle caress.

"Hi," you replied, a smile tugging at your lips. "I needed to hear your voice."

"I'm glad you called," Natasha replied, a hint of playfulness in her tone. "I was just thinking about you."

"Oh?" You teased, "What were you thinking?"

"Hmm," she hummed, and you could practically hear the smirk on her lips. "Just about how much I missed you, and how I wish we were curled up together."

You sighed softly, leaning back on the couch, "Me too."

There was a brief pause, the tension crackling in the air between you.

"How are you feeling?" Natasha asked. "You just got off a long flight."

"I'm fine," You breathed. "My breasts feel incredibly full. I should pump soon. I hope what I left is enough for Nicky."

"I'll make sure it's enough," Natasha reassured. "He's doing well too. Just a little teething."

"That's good," You nodded even though she couldn't see you. "So, you get to see Stella's tantrums live and up close."

"They're impressive," Natasha chuckled. "She's a bit like me in that regard."

"Oh?" Your eyes widened in surprise. "I didn't think I'd see the day when you admitted to being a brat."

"Hey," She said, her tone indignant. "I can admit when I'm being a brat."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Okay, fine. I can't wait to see it myself."

"Don't worry," Natasha assured a note of mischief in her voice. "We'll put on a good show for you. Seriously though what do you do when she's misbehaving?"

"I spank her," You replied.

There's a pause on the phone where you can tell Natasha is trying to process whether or not you're being serious.

"Oh my God," You couldn't help but laugh. "Natasha, I'm joking."

"Oh," She breathed, the relief evident in her voice. "I didn't know. I thought maybe you changed your mind on corporal punishment."

"Nope, she's not quite there yet," You chuckled. "But she does a good job of getting you there. I miss her."

"She misses you too," Natasha sighed, a hint of sadness creeping into her voice. "This is my first time truly being alone with them since they were babies. I'm learning so much."

"Well, we have all the time in the world to learn more," You smiled. "I'm proud of you, Nat. I know it's hard, but you're doing great."

"Thanks," She replied, a warmth in her voice. "I'll make sure the kids are taken care of. Until this blows over and we figure out something."

"I know," You said softly. "We're in this together."

"I should go," Natasha sighed. "The kids are asleep, but I'll call again later, okay?"

"Okay," You agreed. "Be safe, Nat."

"I will," She promised.

You ended the call, and you were left alone in the silence of the apartment. You took a deep breath, your mind wandering to all of the things you could do this week. It's been a year since you've been back in New York. The last time was a booty call for Natasha when she'd been craving your presence. You'd left the kids with Clint and Laura who only lived four hours away at the time.

It felt weird to be back now. You wondered what you'd even do, but the idea of being here, close to the people you cared about, was comforting.

You pushed yourself off the couch and started unpacking, putting your clothes away, and setting up the spare room.

*****

Lunch with Maria Hill was refreshing. She sat in front of you, her hair pulled back in a sleek bun, her blue eyes looking at you with concern. When she sat down in front of you, it was like she noticed every single subtle detail about you that changed. Then she asked you questions as if she was gauging your state of mind. You told her a lot, more than you probably should have. But Maria was trustworthy and had always been a good listener.

“You’ve gotten good at picking these low-profile spots, almost like you’re still in the game,” She teased.

"Well, some habits die hard, I guess," You shrugged, a small smile tugging at your lips. "And it's easier when you're not the target. Although, it doesn't stop me from feeling like a fugitive."

"That's the life of a wanted woman," Maria replied, her tone half-serious.

"Yeah," You sighed, resting your elbows on the table and leaning forward. “Even if I’m not the one being hunted.”

“I’ve heard the underwater raft went belly up a couple weeks ago,” Maria sipped from her mugs. Her eyes flashed around the room subtly.

“You knew about that?” You asked. “Am I the only one that thinks that’s a cruel prison?”

"Yeah, I don't disagree. I think a lot of things have happened that I can't control," Maria admitted. "The only thing I can control is being there for you. We may not have been in contact for years but we're still family.”

"I know, and I appreciate that. But if I'm being honest, this isn't exactly the welcome I was expecting."

"Well, things have gotten complicated," Maria said with a sigh. “Look, I don’t care what Ross or the general public thinks. I think those Accords are bullshit. But… I don’t like being kept in the dark either.”

“You mean Nick Fury doesn’t keep tabs on us after all?” You joked.

Maria chuckled, shaking her head. "He can try, but I'm the best at keeping secrets."

"Well, we can keep each other updated then," You offered. "I want to make sure my family is safe."

"Of course," Maria nodded. "So, Ross showed up, huh? Is he giving you a hard time?"

"He's trying," You huffed. "But I'm not about to roll over and play dead. This isn't the first time we've gone head-to-head. I think he's starting to realize just how far I'll go."

"Damn, you're tough," Maria chuckled.

"Well, I learned from the best," You smirked.

"You certainly did," She smiled.

"So, what are you doing these days?" You asked.

"I'm still with the U.S. Air Force for the time being. My role has shifted a little bit, but I'm still working to keep the world safe," Maria said. “Working with Stark whenever I have free time.”

"Oh, yeah? Any plans for a vacation?"

"Not really, but if you're offering, I'm sure we can figure something out," She winked. “There’s something different about you. A glow.” She mused.

You blushed slightly, shaking your head. "I think it's just the sunlight."

"Nah, it's not that," Maria grinned. "It's nice, whatever it is. Don’t tell me you’re pregnant?”

"That would be perfect timing. Wouldn’t it ?” You chuckled. “I’m not pregnant and don’t plan to be.”

"That's a shame, I think you'd make a good mother," Maria said. "But I respect your decision."

"Thanks, I appreciate that. So, how's Fury?" You asked, curious to know if she was still in touch with him.

"He's good, still the same old Nick," Maria said. "He's a busy guy, but we keep in touch. I think he's worried about you, actually."

"Me? Why would he be worried?"

"Because you're important to him," Maria shrugged. "He may not show it, but he cares."

"I'm not that important, and neither is Natasha," You said, a hint of sadness creeping into your voice. "If anything, she should be the one he's worried about."

"Look, y/n, I know he doesn't have the best track record with being upfront about everything, but he does care. And he'll always look out for those he considers family," Maria said.

"Family," You murmured. "Yeah, I guess we are."

"And even if he didn't show it, he'd always look out for you and Nat," She assured. "Just give him a chance."

"I will," You nodded.

You finished the rest of your lunch and made plans to meet again. You were glad to have Maria in your corner, especially during this chaotic time.

After parting ways, you found yourself wandering the streets, taking in the familiar sights and sounds. New York City was alive, the hustle and bustle a stark contrast to the quiet countryside of your home.

As you walked, the familiar faces and landmarks began to fade into the background. Instead, thoughts of the past began to creep in, memories you'd buried long ago resurfacing.

You thought about the times you'd spent here with Natasha. The early years of your marriage, when everything seemed new and exciting. You could remember the way her eyes would light up as she recounted her latest adventure or the way her laugh would fill the air with warmth. You missed that, the easy way you'd connected with each other, the way your bond had been so effortless.

You could see her, standing on the edge of a rooftop, the wind whipping her hair, her gaze locked on yours. That was the moment you'd fallen in love with her. She'd been so confident, so sure of herself, and yet there had been a vulnerability to her. She'd looked at you like no one else had before, her expression full of longing and hope. It was the beginning of something, a spark that would turn into a flame, a desire that would grow stronger with every passing day.

You could still feel the way your heart had raced as you'd stepped closer, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. She'd been so beautiful, so magnetic, that you'd been helpless to resist her pull. She'd kissed you then, her lips soft and sweet, and it was like everything had fallen into place. You'd known, in that moment, that this was the beginning of something special.

Now, as you wandered the streets, your memories faded and the present returned. The noise and chaos of the city was overwhelming, but you pushed through it.

******

On the other side of the world, Natasha is just finishing up clearing the dinner dishes. The kitchen is small but cozy, sunlight streaming in through the windows. Nicky is glued to her hip, babbling about something in toddler-speak, while Stella is dangling from the couch, engrossed in Peppa Pig on the television.

It's been a quiet day, and she’s was ready to turn in from the night but the calm atmosphere is interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. Natasha looked over, frowning as she made her way towards the door. She doesn’t speak. Doesn’t say a word. She simply eyed the person through the peephole. When she spots familiar brown hair, she unlocks it.

“You’re awake,” Wanda greets.

Natasha smiles.

Wanda stood there with a backpack, looking a bit nervous.

"Hi," Natasha stepped aside. "Come in."

"Sorry, I didn't call," Wanda said sheepishly.

"Don't worry about it," She shrugged. “I just finished up dinner.”

"Oh, I'm fine," Wanda shook her head. "I ate at the station."

"Well, there's leftovers," Natasha said. "So, if you get hungry.

“Thank you,” Wanda nodded.

Natasha turned towards the living room, raising her voice.

"Stella, Wanda is here," She said, gesturing to the girl behind her.

Stella glanced up from the TV, her eyes widening as she spotted the new arrival. Her grin stretched wide as she bounced over to Wanda, her little curls bouncing with each step. She barely paused before raising her arms in silent invitation. Without missing a beat, Wanda scooped her up, holding her close as she’d done a thousand times before.

“Hi, Wanda,” Stella said, her eyes shining.

“Hi,” Wanda replied softly, a smile tugging at her lips. Her eyes lit up with genuine warmth as she held the little girl in her arms.

For a moment, they just looked at each other, the air between them surprisingly comfortable. Then, in that serious way only a three-year-old could manage, Stella tilted her head and asked, “Wanda, are you okay now?”

Natasha's breath caught. Stella’s ability to sense things had always surprised her, and this was no exception. She exchanged a glance with Wanda, who looked both startled and touched by the child’s question.

“Yes, I am,” Wanda said gently, her voice just above a whisper. “Thanks for asking.”

Stella’s serious expression melted into a bright smile, and she gave Wanda a small pat on the shoulder. “I’m glad,” she said, her voice full of sincerity. As if Wanda's well-being was the only thing in the world that mattered to her.

Wanda’s gaze shifted to Natasha, the question in her eyes clear without her needing to speak it. How does she know?

Natasha shrugged a faint smile on her lips. “She picks up on things,” she guessed quietly. Stella had always been sensitive, attuned to emotions in a way Natasha couldn’t quite explain. It made her both proud and protective.

“Mama,” Stella piped up, breaking the silent exchange between the two women, “can I play?”

Natasha smiled at her daughter, grateful for how children could easily shift between the serious and the simple. “Yes, you can.”

Without hesitation, Stella wiggled out of Wanda’s arms and ran over to the pile of toys scattered across the living room floor, already chattering to Wanda about which ones she’d play with first.

Natasha watched her for a moment before turning back to Wanda, whose gaze was still fixed on the little girl. There was something soft in Wanda’s expression, a kind of wonder Natasha hadn’t seen in her for a long time. It tugged at something deep in her chest, a feeling that was part relief and part nostalgia.

The sound of Wanda's voice snapped Natasha back to the present.

"Sorry for not calling, I just wanted to check on you," Wanda apologized.

"It's fine," Natasha assured. "I want to make sure you're safe too."

"Thanks," She nodded. "Where's y/n?"

"In New York," She gestured for Wanda to follow her into the kitchen away from prying eyes. She placed Nicky into his high chair, silently cheering when he didn't protest. "Hoping to show her face and throw Ross off a little bit."

"I can't believe he tracked her down," Wanda huffed, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, well, he's relentless. And stupid," Natasha muttered.

"True," Wanda agreed. "Is this all because of me? Right, what I did? He really wants me."

"It's not just because of what you did, Wanda. It's what we did," Natasha corrected. "It's a combination of things, really. He's just trying to regain some power. But don't worry, y/n can handle him."

"I'm not worried about y/n, I'm worried about her," Wanda gestured towards the living room where Stella is still playing. "What if he finds out about them?"

"He won't," Natasha promised. "And even if he does, we'll figure it out. We will have a plan. We always do."

Wanda's expression relaxed a bit, her posture visibly loosening. "You and y/n make me feel like a person."

"Well, you're always welcome here," Natasha said softly. "Or wherever we are in the world."

Wanda gave her a warm smile before changing the subject. "So, how are things going?"

"We're doing alright," Natasha sighed, her gaze falling to the floor. "I know the moving around gets to her a little. It's complicated."

"Of course, I understand. You just need to lay low until this all blows over," Wanda nodded.

"Exactly," Natasha agreed. "I've gotten used to it. I mean, I've been running my entire life, but this is different."

"It is," Wanda agreed. "But you're not alone. We're here for you."

"Thank you," Natasha breathed. "It means a lot. How long are you here for?"

"Just the night," Wanda licked her lips. "I plan to meet back up with Vision."

"Vision?" Natasha smirked, arching an eyebrow.

Wanda blushed. "He's my partner. Is that weird? Since he's kind of older?"

"Well, he's a robot for one. Two, is it romantic or is it..."

"I'm not sure," Wanda shrugged. "There's definitely a connection there. We're friends, but we're more than that too. I'm not sure where it will lead, but I'm curious."

"That's a good place to start," Natasha hummed.

"He's different," Wanda sighed. "He doesn't know how to be a person, but he's trying. It's nice."

"You're a good teacher," Natasha smiled. "Just be careful, okay?"

"I will," Wanda promised.

Natasha nodded, her gaze drifting towards the living room, where Stella was carrying a bunch of her toys to bring to Wanda.

"Wanda, look at what I found," She said proudly, holding out the toy for inspection.

"That's a nice frog," Wanda complimented, a grin stretching across her lips.

"It's a turtle," Stella corrected a hint of mischief in her tone. "His paint has just come off a little bit."

"My mistake," Wanda laughed.

"Come on," Stella tugged on Wanda's hand, leading her to the couch. "We're playing dress up."

Natasha sat back in her chair, a soft smile tugging at her lips. She couldn't wait for you to come home.

The next morning, Wanda is on her way, leaving Natasha with a hug that would last for a while.

"Call if you need anything," She said. "I'll try and keep my ears open."

"Thank you," Natasha sighed.

Wanda smiled, her gaze lingering on the kids before she turned and walked away.

"Wanda," Natasha called out. "Be careful. Stay close. "

"I will," Wanda promised.

Natasha closed the door, watching as the redhead left the home. She needed you to be home.

***********

The house was silent when you pushed open the front door, your movements careful and quiet. You stepped inside, half-expecting to hear the usual sounds of chaos that accompanied a house with two small children—Stella’s giggles or Nicky’s babbling. But tonight, there was nothing but the soft hum of the wind outside.

You tiptoed through the living room, your eyes scanning for any sign of life, but it seemed like the house was asleep. Your heart warmed at the thought—they must have had a busy day. As you made your way toward the bedroom, you paused at the door, gently pushing it open.

There, sprawled across the bed, was Natasha. Nicky lay curled against her side in nothing but a diaper, his tiny fists clutching onto her shirt as if she were his anchor. Stella was draped across Natasha’s chest, wearing a too-small sleep dress that barely reached her knees, and only one sock clung to her foot. Her curls were a wild mess around her face, and every now and then, she would let out a soft, contented sigh in her sleep.

You smiled at the sight, taking a moment to appreciate how peaceful they all looked. You leaned against the doorway, taking in the scene. It was so different from when they were babies when their days were spent crying and needing to be fed or changed. Now, they were growing into their own personalities, their needs shifting to accommodate those personalities.

Your heart swelled with love as you watched them sleep, knowing that no matter how much the world changed, your family would remain constant.

You quietly made your way into the room, careful not to disturb the sleeping pair. As you leaned over to kiss Nicky's forehead, the floorboard creaked under your feet, causing him to stir slightly.

"Mama," He whined.

"Shh," You whispered, scooping him into your arms. Natasha woke at the sudden change of weight.

"Oh, you're back," She murmured.

"Hey, sleepyhead," You grinned. "Did you have a busy day?"

"Yeah," She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Wrangling toddlers is way harder than fighting evil."

"You're telling me," You bounced Nicky in your arms. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Natasha admitted, her voice low.

"Why don't you go back to sleep," You suggested. "I'll be here."

"Okay," Natasha closed her eyes again, the stress of the day catching up to her. "Y/n?"

"Yes?"

"Welcome home."

You smiled.

"It's good to be back."

---> next part

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #natasha romanov #natasha x you #afamilyofherownau

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taelonsamada · 2 months ago

Text

I practically went into a fugue state when writing this 🤣 it is fully unedited, all but vomited up, but @dawnofiight got this into my head and I had to get it onto paper as soon as I could 🤣 (paper being figurative in this case) I’m sorry if it feels a bit rushed or out of character, I just had to get it out!! So have livestreamer/blogger Sam on his homestead he lovingly tends with horror gamer Darlin 😁

~~~~~~~~~

“I’m particularly excited about this one, we just finished renovating the chicken coop, so now—Ah! George! Knock it off! Hey!”

Sam did a quick side step to dodge the goat head that had snaked out at his ankles, stopping in his tracks to point a warning finger at the brown and white beast that barely came past his knees. The two of them locked in a standoff with Sam’s work boots as the prize for the victor. Never mind that they were still on Sam’s damned feet, or that the entire thing was being captured by the phone currently in Sam’s hand, which was of course being livestreamed to the twenty thousand followers he’d managed to amass the last couple months.

Because that was absolutely Sam’s luck.

The stare down lasted a moment longer before ‘George’ decided the boots weren’t quite worth what the glint in Sam’s eyes meant, plodding off to likely find something else to chew on. Sam shook his head with a heavy sigh and a crooked grin, raking his fingers through his hair before resuming his walk. “I swear, I’d have made that bastard into a stew ages ago if he didn’t give his some of the best damned babies I’ve ever seen in my life. Now, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, this is the chicken coop we just finished redoing.”

Flipping the livestream to the front camera, Sam began panning the phone across the large chicken run he and Darlin’ had just finished yesterday, pride heavy in his voice. “It’s got twice the floorspace now, so they got a proper run they can explore while still havin’ a roof over their head, which’ll keep ‘em safe from the hawks and eagles. And we got this thick wood along the base to keep the coyotes from gettin’ too nosy as well. Still gotta watch for ‘em cause they’re tricky bastards, but at least we’re making their job harder on em.”

The phone turned a bit more, revealing Darlin’ crouched down inside the actual coop itself, cooing at some freshly hatched chicks as they changed out their feed and water. Their head popped up to smile and wave at Sam, who immediately waved back, a fond, warm look in his eyes. His chest aching with happiness at seeing how well they’d taken to the ‘homesteading’ life.

Knowing how drastic a change it was from the city life they were used to, the fact that they seemed to be thriving in the countryside with him only had him even more convinced he must have done something damned impressive in a previous life to be rewarded like this.

Of course, one could also argue he was equally punished for whatever he did whenever they asked him to join him on on of those horror games they would play on their own stream. Darlin’s fans loved it when he showed up, mainly because of all the cursing and yelling he’d let out during said games. He wasn’t sure what it was; horror movies were a delight for him, but there was just something about the games that had him sweating up a storm. His own subscribers also loved it when he joined in, though it was moreso to see a different side of him, since he was usually more reserved on his own channel.

That thought had him glancing to his phone to check on his livesteam, and he cursed as he saw his thumb had hit the camera flip button at some point while he was staring at Darlin’. The entire chat was losing its mind over the look he’d had on his face while he was watching Darlin’. Countless messages about being ‘moony-eyed’, ‘starstruck’, ‘down bad’ and ‘the ultimate simp’.

Instantly his face took on his usual stern, furrowed huff, shaking his head with a dramatic sigh. “Y’all are bigger fuckin’ animals than the ones I feed, I swear. Keep that up and I won’t show you Moonpie,” he warned, referring to the newly born calf that the chat demanded daily updates on. He smirked crookedly at seeing all the panicked gif reactions, pleas for forgiveness and accusations of being a bully. “Mm… lucky for y’all, Moonpie is a huge diva and loves the attention, so—Dammit, George!”

The camera swung wildly, dropping to show an angled view of the brown and white goat with his teeth locked around the tongue of Sam’s boot, tugging and yanking in an attempt to tear a hunk of the expensive leather free. “I swear, I’m cookin’ you tonight!”

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted darlin #redacted sam #I had the biggest doofiest grin on my face while writing this

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4am-enha · 1 year ago

Note

hiii I love your writes🫶🫶🫶

Can u write one where Heeseung is carsick during a trip to y/n's house. He has a fever when arriving there and it gets worse( it was more than carsickness) and y/n and the members take care of him ( he has a high fever during 2 nights)

I'm addicted to sick fics if u could write it I'd be so happy ❤️

cabin fever.

note: this idea was adorable, i had to write something for it. thank you and i hope you enjoy! muah xoxo.

description: basically the ask above! y/n and the guys go on a week's holiday at one of y/n's parents vacation homes far in the forest, but their plans become complicated when heeseung falls sick, hours away from home. comforting ot7 sick fic one shot.

genre: comfort, fluff, sprinkle of crack. maybe a little romance?👀

pairing: OT7 best friends enhypen x female y/n

warnings: mentions of illness and fainting, pills, strong language.

wc≈ 3.7k, ot7 one shot.

The trip had finally made its way out of the group chat.

After months of planning and anticipation, the beginning of their getaway together had now arrived. Nobody could wait- excited for the once-in-a-lifetime, unforgettable memories they would soon make together.

Y/N, Jungwon, Heeseung, Jay, Jake, Sunghoon, Sunoo, and Ni-ki, had all come together to go on a week’s trip away from this all-too-familiar town, and into the countryside. Luckily, Y/N’s parents owned a few vacation homes here and there, making it easy to find a place where the entire group could stay.

The plan was simple; a week away into the forests of the countryside while staying at one of Y/N’s vacation homes together. A chance to reconnect with nature and each other. And, if something did happen to go wrong, there was a small town five minutes or so down the road where they could find everything they could possibly need.

Early this morning, everyone gathered at the two cars that they would be taking to get to the house. After a lot of arguing and rounds of the game ‘rock, paper, scissors’, it was decided who would be in each car. In car one, there was Y/N, Heeseung, and passenger Jungwon up front alongside Jay, who would be the one driving. In car two, there was Jake, Ni-ki, passenger Sunoo, and driver Sunghoon.

There was a lot of pushing and shoving things into the car, but it all fit eventually. Well, after everyone tirelessly convinced Sunoo and Y/N that they did not need multiple bags full of non-essential things each. Everyone had been on the road for a few hours now with a couple of pit stops here and there, but now they were down to just 30 minutes left on the road trip until they would finally arrive at their destination.

Everyone had managed to keep their energy up until now, except for Heeseung. Currently, car one was doing carpool karaoke, but Heeseung was not joining in at all.

Y/N turned to Heeseung, who was sitting beside her with his arms crossed and head slightly tilted back, “Hey why aren’t you singing with us? Do you not like the song?”

“Yeah man, If I gotta sing, you have to as well. Don’t make me do it alone with these weirdos,” Jay joined, looking at Heeseung through the car mirror.

“Don’t act like you aren’t enjoying it Jay,” Jungwon huffed, leaning against the car window and watching the trees blur by quickly as they drove forward along the lengthy straight road.

“Can we just open a window? I’m hella motion sick right now,” Heeseung grumbled in response.

Y/N grabbed the closest water bottle and handed it to Heeseung, “drink some water, it’ll help. We should have had Hee sit up front.”

“That helps?” Jungwon questioned.

“Yeah, I mean that's what my parents told me whenever I asked to sit up front. They said they got motion sick in the back of the car,” Y/N shrugged.

Jay laughed, “Sounds like they were just trying to make up something so they wouldn’t have to sit in the back.”

“Whatever, they wouldn’t do that,” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“First stage, denial,” Jay continued to joke.

“Be quiet. Anyway, I wonder how the other guys are doing,” Y/N laid back into her seat again.

Jungwon pulled out his phone, “I’ll text them.”

︵‿︵‿୨🩹୧‿︵‿︵

Meanwhile, Ni-ki and Jake were doing some intense thumb wrestling matches in the back of the other car, pulling each other around aggressively; the pair of them were very obviously cheating at the game. Sunoo peacefully scrolled through his phone up front, glad to be a little bit away from the mad duo in the back.

“Can you guys quit?” Sunghoon kept his eyes on the road as he scolded them.

“What?” Jake sassed.

“Quit bickering for the love of my sanity. You’re actually now making the car sway,” Sunghoon complained.

“It’s Jake's fat ass tilting the car,” Ni-ki snapped back.

“What ass? He has an ass?” Sunoo added, eyes still on his phone.

Jake threw his arms in the air, “I have an ass it's just not fat alright? AND I’M NOT TILTING THE FUCKING CAR!”

Ni-ki was in a fit of laughter, almost wetting himself right then and there.

Sunghoon shook his head, “seriously guys stop.”

Sunoo turned up the car volume, “Yeah shut up, my song is about to play.”

It was a cutesy song to which Sunoo somehow knew all the dance movements.

“Get Sunoo off of aux RIGHT NOW,” Ni-ki yelled in horror, covering his ears as if it was physically paining him. He reached up into the middle to grab Sunoo’s phone.

Sunoo began screaming, “LET GO OF ME, YOU CAN’T REACH UP HERE!”

Sunghoon suddenly swerved sharply for a half second, making everyone sit back and go silent in fear, “Is that seriously what it takes to get you all to shut the hell up?”

“Wait, Jungwon texted me,” Sunoo opened up his phone again after seeing the notification briefly light up on his screen, “apparently Heeseung is super motion sick or something. He said Heeseung really doesn’t look too great.”

︵‿︵‿୨🌡️୧‿︵‿︵

Heeseung had been asleep for a while now. The music had been turned down in order to let him rest for the rest of the drive. His head slowly fell softly onto Y/N’s shoulder, still sound asleep.

“Oh my god, I can feel the heat radiating off of him. He’s so warm,” Y/N whispered with a shocked tone to the two that were still awake.

Jungwon looked to the back of the car where Heeseung was with a concerned expression, “I don’t think that’s a normal symptom of motion sickness… maybe he should take some medication.”

“Shit, I left all the first aid and medication with Sunoo in the other car. How much longer until we arrive?”

“It’s just over there, I can see the house. I just need to pull up,” Jay answered.

As Jay pulled up to the vacation home and parked the car, Y/N slowly detached herself from Heeseung- gently propping his head back up to a natural, comfortable position. He was definitely one of the deepest sleepers amongst the friend group.

Everyone exited the car, reuniting with the other half of their friends who were getting out of the other car a few spots behind them. Niki and Jake came out of the car trying to headlock each other, but that wasn’t a surprise to anyone. In fact, you could probably get rich from betting on it.

Sunghoon approached Y/N and the others, looking absolutely drained.

“Oh my, what happened? Are you alright?” Y/N scanned him with worry that another one of her friends might be unwell.

“Now you listen to me Y/N. Don’t you ever leave me with them two ever again,” Sunghoon pointed toward the culprits, Jake and Ni-ki, who had finally let go of each other?

Y/N giggled, “So sorry about that. I forgot how they are when they’re left together for more than five minutes. I’ll rig the game of rock, paper, scissors for the journey home and make sure they’re separate.”

“Thank goodness,” Sunghoon sighed in relief.

Sunoo joined the conversation with wide eyes, “where’s Heeseung? Is he okay?”

“He’s still in the car. I didn’t want to wake him ye-“

Y/N paused when she looked toward the car again, spotting Ni-ki quickly approaching the car door, swinging it open while snickering, and taking goofy 0.5 pictures of Heeseung asleep. Then he started tickling him.

Heeseung woke up and swung at him, in which Ni-ki had only just avoided by luck. Heeseung grumbled grumpily at him, swearing under his breath.

“Caught you slacking,” Ni-ki teased.

“Just you wait,” Heeseung mumbled back while unbuckling his seatbelt. He took barely two steps out of the car and began to stumble over. Luckily, Ni-ki caught him before he made friends with the pebble-infested floor.

Everyone gasped and rushed over to help quickly, “Get him inside, right now.”

︵‿︵‿୨🍵୧‿︵‿︵

A little while later, Jay came rushing back into the house with a doctor from the city down the road. He had left almost immediately to get some help for Heeseung.

The doctor placed his bags beside the couch where Heeseung was lying down, surrounded by everyone who looked worried sick for their dear friend. The doctor then knelt down beside Heeseung and took his temperature. He did some general checking, making sure Heeseung’s vitals were good and everything like that.

“Tsk, he’s got a fever alright,” the doctor examined the thermometer, “he will be okay though. He’s just got an aggressive cold right now. Just make sure to keep breaking any spontaneous fevers that may come back and make him rest a lot. Oh, and give him these,” he handed a bottle of specific medication to Sunoo as he stood up, “just call me if anything worsens, or if anything happens that you’re not sure about.”

“Thank you so much,” Jay guided the doctor to the door and waved him goodbye, thanking him one final time before the doctor left.

Y/N took the medication from Sunoo and took two pills out into the palm of her hand. She sat down beside Heeseung with a glass of water in her other hand, “You gotta take these Hee.”

Heeseung weakly sat up with a little bit of help from Ni-ki. He then leaned toward Y/N with his mouth slightly agape, who then placed each pill carefully into his mouth and helped tip the glass of water into his mouth.

Jake approached with some random bags of frozen things that he found last second and placed them against Heeseung to help him stay cool. Initially, the cold made Heeseung flinch a little, but he accepted it, “really? Frozen cranberries?”

“It’s all there was man,” Jake apologised, making Heeseung chuckle lightly.

Jungwon had run upstairs but shortly returned with as many pillows as his little arms could hold. Ni-ki and Jungwon worked together to make sure Heeseung was as comfortable as lying on a couch could be.

Muffled quarrelling could be heard from the kitchen. It was Jay and Sunghoon.

Jay was trying to make some comforting and healing food for Heeseung with his own cooking knowledge, meanwhile, Sunghoon made laps around the kitchen looking at his phone, and reading out overly fancy complicated remedies and recipes. He may have been trying to be helpful, but Jay had to deny everything he suggested and constantly remind him once again they ‘do not have the ingredients for that shit.’

After everything was more settled, everyone left Heeseung to sleep peacefully on the couch while they went outside the back and started setting up the campfire.

︵‿︵‿୨🩹୧‿︵‿︵

Hours later, Heeseung awoke to the faint sound of obnoxious laughter and shouting from outside which travelled through the windows of the house.

He sat up, still drenched in sweat that his fever had graciously gifted him. He looked around for a few moments, processing everything. His eyes trailed across the empty glasses on the table beside him and a bowl filled with soup that had gone completely cold. He felt bad- Jay must have left it for him to eat when he woke back up, but he had slept far too long.

The sound of his friends having fun and enjoying themselves made Heeseung jealous. He was envious that everyone except him was getting to have fun and make the memories he so desperately waited for the second the plans were made. He couldn’t stand being so vulnerable, so he got up even if his body wasn’t ready yet.

Heeseung made his way outside the back, and toward the campfire where everyone sat casually talking about anything and everything that came to their heads at the moment.

“It’s your turn- oh, Heeseung’s up,” Jungwon announced upon seeing Heeseung approaching.

“You’re not supposed to be getting up and walking around yet Hee,” Y/N lectured him.

“I’m feeling fine,” Heeseung lied, taking a seat next to Sunoo, “what did I miss?”

Heeseung lasted about fifteen minutes before he began to feel lightheaded again, his body slowly tilting backward involuntarily every now and then. Except suddenly, he couldn't keep himself upright anymore and the next thing he knew, everything went black.

︵‿︵‿୨🌡️୧‿︵‿︵

When Heeseung awoke again, he was greeted by Y/N leaning over the bed he lay in, caressing his hair, while sitting in a random chair she had pulled up to sit beside him.

“How did I get here?” Heeseung sat up, taking in the room he was unfamiliar with.

“Well luckily for you, it isn’t a hospital room. We’re just in one of the spare bedrooms,” Y/N explained.

“Oh. Did I faint?” Heeseung couldn’t recollect any memory from just before he had passed out until now.

“Yes, you did,” Y/N sighed heavily, “and you gave us all a heart attack. You could have fallen forwards, straight into the fire Heeseung! You could have died, we could have lost you,” Y/N scolded him.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t mean to yell at you as soon as you wake up, but it was really scary. Promise me you won’t get up and do stuff when you’re not actually better,” Y/N calmed down a little.

Heeseung felt incredibly guilty, “I promise. I’m really sorry I put you guys through that.”

“As long as you keep your promise Heeseung. If anything, I’m partly responsible. I shouldn’t have left you unsupervised like that. I’m sorry,” Y/N shook her head in self-shame.

Heeseung reached for Y/N’s hand, holding it gently, “Don’t blame yourself.”

Y/N stuck by Heeseung’s side for the rest of the night, falling asleep upright in her chair, slumped slightly over herself uncomfortably.

︵‿︵‿୨🍵୧‿︵‿︵

The next morning, Heeseung awoke to Jungwon and Jake by the side of his bed rather than Y/N whom he had seen in that spot last. It took him by surprise, making him jump a little.

“C’mon bro, Jungwon ain’t that ugly,” Jake joked.

Jungwon slapped him on the arm harshly, “I change my mind, I don't need you in here.”

“Where’s Y/N?” Heeseung asked curiously, ignoring them, and wondering where Y/N had disappeared to, and if she had spent the whole night there in the chair that was still placed beside him. He hoped that she had not sacrificed her sleep for him.

“She went grocery shopping about an hour ago. She should be back soon,” Jungwon answered.

“Yeah, and she put us on babysitting duty,” Jake added, throwing a slight verbal dig at Heeseung.

On cue, Y/N returned loudly through the door trying to carry all the shopping bags inside in one trip, “I’m back!”

After some time spent putting away the groceries, Y/N made her way into the main room where Heeseung was already sitting on the couch waiting. Jake and Jungwon had gone outside to join the others on a nature walk. Y/N decided it was probably better not to tag along- she would much rather hear about the chaos of a walk they created when they return, rather than have to be a part of it.

“Good afternoon Hee, how are you holding up this morning?” She sat in the chair opposite him.

He looked at her with an eyebrow raised, “Did you stay in that chair all night?”

“Is it a problem?”

“Y/N, you don’t have to do that,” Heeseung sighed, feeling guilty again.

“It’s okay. If I would have left, I wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway,” she assured him.

“I’m sorry I’ve basically ruined the start of this trip,” Heeseung hung his head in disappointment.

Y/N sat up with an angry expression, “Don’t be ridiculous. You haven’t ruined a thing.”

Heeseung began to cough a bit concerningly, earning a worried look from Y/N.

“Stay put. I’ll be right back,” Y/N pointed at her eyes and then back at him as if she were warning him that she was watching him.

She rushed around in the kitchen and returned after a few minutes with two mugs, one in each hand, and a packet of Heeseung’s favourite snack hanging from her mouth held by the clench of her teeth.

“What’s this?” Heeseung took the mug from her carefully.

“I got some of your favourite snacks while I was out shopping,” Y/N pointed to the mug in his hands, “and that’s tea with a spoonful of honey. Trust me, it helps when you’re sick. Drink up!” Y/N took a sip from her own mug, sitting down next to Heeseung now.

Heeseung smiled at her and copied her, taking a sip from his mug; he widened his eyes with the pleasant taste, humming in enjoyment.

“It’s good right?” Y/N watched him eagerly.

He nodded enthusiastically, and they both giggled.

︵‿︵‿୨🩹୧‿︵‿︵

Later that evening, everyone gathered and agreed to do something in which they could include Heeseung this time so that he didn’t feel left out like he had felt the night before. Plus, the guys really missed him during the day. It just felt so empty when they weren’t all together, all the time.

It was decided that they would all do a movie night. It was a great idea, something everyone could enjoy, and something Heeseung could join without having to get up from the chair or out of the blankets the other guys had earnestly wrapped him up in.

They watched a few movies: comedy, horror, action. For the final movie, they put on a romance movie. It didn’t take long for almost everyone to fall asleep during it. Arguably, it was very late. But Y/N complained that she was the only one interested enough to not get bored and drift off to sleep.

Sunghoon was out like a light in the singular chair on the furthest side of the room. By his feet were Jay, Jake, and Ni-ki who had collectively fallen asleep together all huddled up in a shared blanket on the floor, knackered from the amount of yelling they all did during the horror movie. Light snores could be heard, but it wasn’t clear who was the one producing the snoring. It was probably Jake.

Sunoo and Jungwon shared one side of the couch. Jungwon’s hair was flopped all out of place, twinning with Sunoo’s hair beside him which was doing the exact same thing. They looked like two little pom-poms together.

On the other side of the couch were Heeseung and Y/N. Heeseung was fast asleep and had fallen asleep first out of everyone. It was excused though, because he must have been exhausted from the horrible illness fighting his body right now.

Y/N on the other hand, was wide awake. Her eyes threatened to close a few times here and there at the sight of all her best friends asleep so comfortably, but alas her eyes stayed glued to the TV. She refused to let the movie go to waste.

Beside her, Heeseung began to shuffle around and mumble to himself. From what Y/N could tell, he was still asleep. He must have been dreaming. She found herself staring a little at him, noticing his eyebrows furrowed together as if he were in pain. Before she could even tap him, his eyes fluttered open, meeting hers.

Y/N looked away quickly as if she wasn’t staring, and then looked back at him, “Are you alright?” She whispered, cautious not to wake the others so closely located to her.

“I’m alright, why are you still awake?” Heeseung asked, sitting up properly.

“The movie hasn’t finished,” she pointed to the TV.

Heeseung laughed, “How did we get to romantic movies?”

“It was my idea.”

“I mean,” Heeseung scanned the room of sleeping bodies, “I think I can tell,” he teased.

“Oh, whatever. It’s a good movie,” Y/N scoffed, diverting her attention back toward the TV.

“Aren’t you uncomfortable?” He whispered after a few minutes.

Y/N shrugged, “It’s not awful, but a little I guess.”

Heeseung grabbed Y/N’s arm and pulled her towards him, “come closer then.”

“Oh okay,” Y/N felt herself get a little shy at the sudden gesture.

Heeseung adjusted the blanket, snaking his arm around her and pulling her into the blanket with him, and smiled.

Y/N smiled back, “Thanks, Hee.”

Eventually, the pair fell asleep with their heads against one another.

︵‿︵‿୨🌡️୧‿︵‿︵

“Shut the fuck up you’re so loud.”

“You’re gonna wake them up.”

“Move, I want to take a picture too.”

“Ni-ki stop taking selfies with them, that’s just plain wrong.”

Heeseung’s eyes opened to the sight of the other guys hovering around him with their cameras in his face, giggling mischievously amongst themselves, “What the hell?”

Then it became clear as he felt someone’s arms suddenly move slightly around his waist. It was Y/N. They must have fallen asleep and somehow ended up holding one another on the couch. How it actually happened, he had no recollection of.

And because of Y/N’s reaction when she had finally sat up fully awake and realised- it was clear she probably had no recollection of this either.

“Oh my god that’s embarrassing,” she held her flushed face in her hands.

“Ni-ki I know you ain’t laughing like you weren’t all snuggled up with Sunghoon’s feet last night,” Heeseung teased defensively.

“WHAT THE HELL NO I WASN’T,” Ni-ki yelled back, clearly offended at such an insult.

“Don’t bring me into this,” Sunghoon rubbed the sides of his head, annoyed.

“Anyway,” Heeseung interrupted, “good news. I think I’m healed.”

“You better not be lying,” Jake squinted at him suspiciously, not believing it.

“No deadass, I feel so much better,” Heeseung beamed.

The guys cheered and jumped around in excitement, “We can finally start off this trip properly.”

“So, what are we doing today?” Jay asked amongst the sudden chatter.

Just then, a nasty-sounding cough came from beside Heeseung. It came from Y/N, and everyone looked her way immediately. She looked like she hadn’t even slept, even though she most definitely had.

Heeseung placed his palm against her forehead. It was very warm. She must have caught the sickness from him.

Heeseung laughed in astonishment,

“Actually guys, I think we got some other work to do first.”

🤒 end!! 🤧

note: all feedback is encouraged and any interaction is appreciated! thank you so much for reading! i enjoyed writing this. if there’s mistakes, pretend you ain’t seen NOTHIN. i got lazy with proof reading >< please let me know what you guys thought of this. was it okay?? also kinda unrelated but guess who got txt tickets for december! 😽 (it’s me)

201 notes · View notes

darshy · 11 months ago

Text

pretty

Your mother’s face is all you see as she tells you about the new house. “New and exotic,” she says and her eyes sparkle. You like her sparkly eyes, so you repeat: “New and exotic.”

She smiles, bright and pretty as always. Your brother coughs beside you and her smile hides behind the pinks of her lips.

“No, no, Kaju, be careful! Slow. In and out.” She exaggerates by adding a hand to her chest. Kaju watches, his chubby baby cheeks full and round, and he copies very slowly. You watch too, imitating with small movements.

Your mother sees you and squints. “Not you, baby. You’re normal.” And then she turns back to Kaju, still squinting, her sparkly eyes gone.

You lean back into your car seat. Normal. Kaju is hurting, trying to breathe. Normal.

Kaju has something wrong with him. He coughs and maybe food comes out and Mom always says, “No Kaju! Slow now!” in sloppy English. Sometimes she speaks in Spanish, but she wants Kaju to learn a lot of English so he can be a doctor. You want to be a doctor too, but when you tell Mom, she loses her sparkle eyes and squints.

So, you think about being an artist. Mom likes your paintings of dogs and cats. You only have a few paintings because there’s not a lot of dogs in the countryside. Only long, tall grass and old trees. You try to paint the trees and the grass but Mom squints at them and Kaju does too.

So dogs and cats are the best. You want a dog and a cat to pet and paint. They are the best.

“Mommy?” you ask as she prepares lunch. Her fingers are digging into rices and corns. She hums and her pretty face is glowing. “I want a dog.”

Her head tilts and she looks at you. Her eyes are wide and sparkly and you smile because she’s so pretty.

“Perro? A dog?” Her eyes go wider and she smiles.

Kaju is at the table in his high chair. He’s looking at you. You look back.

Kaju coughs just as you say you want a cat too. Mom goes to Kaju.

School is foreign, and as Mom likes to say, exotic. “It is great for you and Kaju. Education is well,” she said once, fully in English. She seems to learn more each time you come back from church. Her friends are kind to teach her.

But you frowned when you heard about school. Older kids in church grumbled about homework. You were scared of homework.

Not anymore though. When you make it back home from school, your first day, Mom smiles and Kaju smiles. You smile too because homework is so fun!

You and Mom and Kaju look at papers your teachers gave to you. You don’t understand much but Mom reads it quickly. “This is good, baby,” she says before pushing them back into a pile. Kaju says, “Baby, baby, baby!” You grin because Mom is so happy.

“And soon, Kaju will be with you.” Mom glances at him and curls his hair around her fingers. Kaju still chants ‘baby’ and you look at the papers.

“Oh, Mom,” you say and she hums, fingers still busy styling Kaju. “I want a dog and a cat.”

“Two?” Sparkle, sparkle, sparkle are her eyes.

“Yes. Please,” you say the new word ‘please’ that you learned in class and Mom smiles.

“Kaju, do you want animals?” Mom asks him but he looks at you. His cheeks look a little smaller. He’s getting big.

“Dog! Cat! Baby!” he chants with glee. You feel glee too because you don’t think he’s coughed yet today. And that Mom is happy. And that homework is easy.

Homework is not easy when you’re walking a dog. Times tables jumble up your brain and Perro barks a lot, ruining your thought process.

“Perro!” You whine and Perro gives you his big puppy eyes. “I gotta learn nines. Nine, eighteen, twenty—um…” You glance at your fingers to count again.

Perro barks and tugs on the leash. “Perro!” you yell again. He’s a fat dog and pulls really hard and your wrist is all scratched up from his tugging.

He pulls more, barks, and the leash breaks. Perro runs across the street. You move to follow—there’s never cars—but you see someone standing in the tall grass. Perro trots up to him—a boy with white hair and shorts and a tank top. The boy extends a pale hand and Perro greedily slobbers all over it. He laughs and his head turns to you. He has dark sunglasses on.

“Perro!” you call rather weakly. It’s weird seeing someone your age around here. Of course, Perro doesn’t listen, and rubs his chunky body on the boy’s legs.

“I’m, I’m sorry,” you stammer and walk across the street. There’s an embarrassing heat in your cheeks and you don’t think it’s from the sun. But the boy tilts his head and gives you a smile. It’s pretty, like your Mom’s.

“It’s okay. I like fat dogs. They are cute,” he says and he has an odd accent. You know you have an accent too, but his is different. Before, you were thinking he was from around here.

You reach for Perro and hook the leash back in place. He huffs and finally turns around.

“His name is Perro?” the boy asks out of nowhere. You blink. “Yeah.”

“Well, what does Perro mean?” he asks and it comes out snappy. You shrink a little backwards and look across the street. You want to leave.

“It’s dog in Spanish.”

“Spanish,” he says just as you take a step. “Yeah,” you say rather lamely. But you don’t want to talk to him. He is odd and his hair is white and it’s all confusing. And as you take another step closer to the road, the boy is close to you. He—he’s so fast you didn’t even see him move.

“So that’s why you talk so weird.” He smiles and it’s not so pretty anymore. You feel a little offended and frown a bit. “You talk weird too,” you whisper and you see his eyebrows shoot up above the sunglasses.

“I’m on vacation,” he says with a cross of his arms, “I don’t live here. I’m not like you.”

“Then where are you from?” Curiosity takes over your mind.

“Japan.”

“Japan?” you repeat and think about all you know about Japan. Well, nothing comes to mind except for a girl whose family vacations to Japan. She’s in your class and her name is Jessie.

“What! Don’t tell me you don’t know about Japan!” he says loudly but he doesn’t sound angry. “I’ve heard about Americans being dumb. I didn’t think it would transfer to immigrants.” You’re stunned and it seems Perro notices your mood change and begins to growl. The boy only smiles at you. Yeah, it’s definitely not a pretty smile.

“That’s so…” You don’t know what to say, and with embarrassment thrumming throughout your body, you turn around.

The boy’s laughter leaves your head a mess and you forget about homework.

“What is wrong, baby? You have been different,” Mom says next to you. Kaju is on the floor in front of her, scribbling on a piece of paper. Today is Saturday, the best day of the week.

Because there’s no school.

“Nothing.” You hum and continue your painting of Kaju. His face is a little flat today and he’s more pale than usual. He has been coughing a lot.

“Nothing?” Mom blinks at you. Her hands fidget. “Is it school?”

There’s really nothing bothering you. Middle school is just.. middle school. More homework, more classes, more people.

So: “Nothing, Mom.” You look at her and force a grin. Her shoulders sloop down and she smiles back. “Okay, baby.”

You resume your painting of Kaju. You highlight the tip of his nose, his forehead, his chin. You detail his fingers, his pencil, the scribbles he’s making on that paper.

Kaju coughs. You pause and glance at Mom. Her head is facing the window next to the couch. Kaju coughs again. You watch Mom. She is looking outside.

Kaju coughs and makes a strangled sound. Spit trickles down his front and he’s holding his neck.

Mom turns and helps him then.

You close the front door behind you. Your painting is glossy in the sun as you lay it down on a small wooden bench. You can hear Kaju’s screaming. What you can’t hear is Mom. You don’t hear a gentle “slow, Kaju. In and out” from Mom. Just Kaju. And it’s never just Kaju.

You walk away from the house. You do your times tables of thirteen. You do it past one hundred. And when you focus back to the world, you realize you’ve crossed the street. Tall grass dangles around you and the wind curves them into waves.

“Hey,” a voice says from behind. You turn and blink wildly at that white haired boy from years ago. He’s most definitely taller and still wears dark sunglasses. It makes sense though. Arizona is hot.

Alas, you frown. “Why are you here?” you ask.

He grins, boyishly. “I knew you were gonna be here.”

You tilt your head. “Huh? No way.”

His leg moves forward and yours moves back. His cheeks are tan and blushy. The grass tickles your knees. You want to leave.

“I’m on vacation again. You should come hang out at my house,” he says and jerks his head to the side, gesturing the direction of his home. You look on and see the endless green of trees and grass.

“I’m not allowed to leave,” you mutter. The boy shrugs.

“It’s not far. And who cares about rules? I don’t.”

“Well, I do.” You wiggle your way through the grass and walk over to the dirt of the road. Rocks slide into your flip-flops and you cringe.

He grabs your hand. He’s warm—burning and you try to pull away but he grips harder. You bite your lip and freeze.

His sunglasses are on top of his hair. His eyes are shock blue and shine and sparkle. This sparkle is different from your mother’s. You don’t like it. You don’t like anything about this boy.

“Come with me.” He smiles and your mouth opens but you blink and it’s not so hot anymore. His hand is still on yours and there are still rocks in your shoes but the sun is not beaming down your back. You blink again, and there’s a bed in front of you—the kind you’d see in movies—with long windows behind it. Instead of a shaggy green carpet touching your toes, there is a cold wood floor.

You shout and jump and the boy laughs. “You’re fine! See? We’re in my home!” He lets go of your hand and jumps onto the big bed.

“In Japan?!” You shout again and feel a rock in your throat. But the boy shakes his head, a cheesy grin on his face. “Of course not. This is the vacation home.” He flattens himself against his bed. You stand awkwardly.

“You wanna get something to eat?” You hear him ask.

“No,” you say but your stomach complains by growling loudly. He snickers and you want to go home.

“Oh my baby! All done with middle school!” Mom sings while driving. You continue drawing in your sketchbook and before long you have created large blue eyes and white hair and a boyish grin. It’s, unfortunately, Satoru Gojo. He paid you twenty dollars the last time you saw him and he asked for you to create an image of him. Whatever. Easy money.

“Mami! I’m going into sixth!” Kaju yells, wanting attention. She looks at him in the rear view mirror. “Ah, yes! Kaju is going into middle school. Don’t you feel so old?” Kaju shouts something like “I’m not old!” and Mom laughs and you shove your earbuds further into your ears.

The drawing is finished. It looks like Satoru, unfairly pretty with white teeth. You think it’s kind of weird how you can draw him so easily without having him stand right next to you. You can only do that with Kaju and Mom because you know them.

—and you don’t really know Satoru. Well, except for the fact that he’s one year older than you. His family is rich, maybe, probably, everytime he..teleports you to the vacation home, it’s grand on the inside. Not that you’ve met any of his family members and not that he mentions any of them. It’s all just a big guess on your part.

Satoru knows about you though. He knows about Kaju and Mom and how Perro died. He knows about your passion for art and your more secret passion for doctors. He knows what school you go to, where you live, and your favorite color. He knows so much and you trust him. He’s really your only friend after all.

The car stops and you glance up. Home is ahead, small, tiny, and dirty all around. It’s a trailer. Kaju and Mom are still talking so you climb out of the car and stretch.

Satoru is coming today for his summer long vacation. You hold the sketchbook close to you. You feel excited.

Satoru is there, across the street. Tall, pretty, and grinning. You’re glad that your art piece matches him.

“Hello!” He yells and waves and you jog over. His eyes look at the sketchbook—he takes his glasses off around you now. You hand the pad over to him and watch his pupils dilate.

“Like it?” you ask and for some reason you feel a little shy. He nods wordlessly and cradles the sketchbook. Maybe he likes it too much.

“Can I keep it?”

“Yeah.” You’ve never had anyone ask to keep a drawing of yours.

He looks up at you and his eyes are unreadable. “I wanna take you somewhere new. You’ll like it, I promise.” So you shrug and grab his hand and blink. New things can be scary, like starting high school and moving. You expect to be scared, Satoru likes pranks, but you blink twice and the air smells good and you see pink petals.

You look up. Pretty trees flow in the wind and you gape. Their leaves are pink!

“What are they?” You breathe out, still holding Satoru’s hand. He chuckles next to you. “Cherry blossoms. I—we’re in Japan.” You look at him and squint. “Satoru!”

“But it’s okay! I’ll bring you back, I promise.” His cheeks are as pink as the trees. “I just wanted to show you.” You want to be mad at him, but as much as you try, you can’t. So you look back up and smile.

Satoru’s head falls onto your shoulder. His breaths are quick and shallow. He sounds sick. He sounds like your brother.

“Can we…” He starts but the words die in the wind. “What?” you whisper. His hand tightens around yours.

“I want us to be together.”

You giggle. He’s joking, he must be. “We can’t, Satoru! I don’t want to live in Japan.” At that, he shoves his face further into your neck, and you swear you feel his lips tremble against your pulse.

#x reader #female reader #24 #yandere gojo satoru #yandere gojo satoru x reader #yandere jjk #read more on quotev!

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galway-girlatwork · 3 months ago

Text

Fandom: Triple Frontier-This is completely AU.

Rating: Mature-There is angst and fluff. Maybe some smut but ya gotta squint

Central Characters: Reader/Frankie “Catfish” Morales

Central Relationship: Frankie/Reader

Word Count: 2,525

AO3

Please do not copy my work. Please re-blog if you liked it and tag me.

Music inspiration: The Fiery Cross By Bear McCreary

Thank you to @almostfoxglove for the beautiful mood board and letting me know that I can go anywhere

"Not all who wander are lost."

SUMMARY:

Fairy rings do not exist. Fairy rings do not exist. Fairy rings do not exist.

Witches are not real. Witches are not real. Witches are not real.

How many times can he repeat this in his head for it to take hold? A thousand? A million?

What happens when a man transcends time and space and falls in love with a witch?

It’s just a bunch of hocus pocus, right?

Beyond Time's Edge

Frankie Morales had always been one for adventure. A New Yorker with a penchant for thrill-seeking, he'd traveled far and wide, but nothing could have prepared him for what was to come. A solo vacation to England had seemed like the perfect way to unwind. The rolling hills, quaint villages, and the ancient folklore had drawn him in like a moth to a flame. Little did he know, his adventure was about to take a turn beyond his wildest imagination.

On the third day of his trip, while exploring the serene countryside of Sussex, Frankie stumbled upon a peculiar sight. A ring of mushrooms, perfectly circular, nestled in the midst of a lush, green clearing. A fairy ring? He’d heard the stories—stepping into one could bring bad luck or, worse, take you somewhere else entirely. He chuckled at the thought, stepping inside with the nonchalance of a man who didn’t believe in such things.

As soon as his foot touched the ground within the ring, the world around him shifted. The air grew thicker, the sky dimmed, and a strange, tingling sensation crawled up his spine. The sounds of distant birds and rustling leaves faded, replaced by a deafening silence. Then, just as suddenly, the world reappeared—but it wasn’t the world he knew.

Frankie found himself standing in the middle of a forest, but it was different—wild, untamed. The trees were taller, thicker, and the air carried the scent of woodsmoke and damp earth. Before he could process what had happened, he felt the ground beneath him shaking, hearing thunderous sound of horses coming at him. He did the only thing that made sense to him, which was run. He’d barely made it into the thickness of the trees, Nike’s slipping on the steep incline, caused him to lose his balance, sending him ass over feet down the hill, the air being knocked from his lungs as he laid there, staring up through the thicket of branches overhead. That was when he felt the sharp pain, hand pressed against his side, feeling something warm, sticky and wet. Fuck, he thought, blood. Son of a bitch, he was going to die in the middle of a god damn forest. The branches above him blurred as he laid there, thinking he just needed a minute to rest, before he would get to his feet and find his way back to the village he’d been staying in.

Una had been gathering herbs deep in the forest when she sensed it—an unfamiliar energy, powerful and disruptive. Someone had either come or gone through the ring. She was always amazed when it happened, the power it took to travel through and not end up dead. She’d heard stories growing up, about how it felt as if your insides were coming through your skin and always took great pains to stay away from the fairy ring but something deep within was calling to her and she decided to needed to see which one it was. One hand grabbed the end of her dress, hiking the hem up, steps quick and determined, as she ran into the clearing, seeing a man, dressed rather odd, knowing he’d come through, seeing his blood, soaking the forest floor.

Without hesitation, she rushed to him, mind already working through healing incantations, as she kneeled next to him, lifting his shirt, a hole in his side, wondering what impaled him.

Frankie groaned as he tried to move, but pain shot through his body. His vision hazy, and his head throbbing. When he blinked, he saw a woman crouching beside him, fingers hovering just above his skin, chanting in a language he didn't recognize.

"Easy now," she murmured, her voice soothing as she carefully placed a hand on his forehead. Warmth spread through him, and the pain dulled. "You've had quite a journey. I am going to have to clean the wound, no stitches, or whatever is inside will fester if I do.”

Frankie blinked up at her, trying to make sense of the situation. "Where... where am I?" he asked weakly.

"You're safe," Una replied, her tone gentle but firm. "Ye crossed through the ring, and ye been injured in the process. My name is Una. I’ll take care of you."

He squinted, trying to sit up, but she pressed him back down with a surprisingly strong grip. "Don't move. Ye torn something inside. Just let me work."

Frankie wanted to protest, but something about her presence calmed him. She moved with the grace of someone who knew the forest like the back of her hand, reaching into the small pouch at her waist, pulling out various herbs and powders.

As she began mixing them with her fingers, chanting as she did, working some kind of spell. Holy fuck, was she a witch? Chuckling, he shook his head. Witches weren’t real. Just like fairy rings weren’t real. This had to be some kind of joke, one of the guys pulling off one hell of an elaborate joke.

"What are you... doing?" Frankie managed to ask.

She gave him a small smile. "I’m a healer. These herbs and spells will ease your pain and help you recover." Gently applying the mixture to his wounds, she could see the relief washing over his features. “We’ll need to wait a time, before ye can stand. Twill be easier for me to heal if ye are within the cottage. I’ve got food and water. Then I’ll help you get back.” Taking off her dress, leaving her in nothing but her shift, she rolled it up and lifted his head, putting it beneath him, gently laying him back. “Just rest for a few.”

As the hours passed, Una watched him sleep, looking over the clothes he was wearing. The fabric that encased his lower half, was a deep blue, rough to the touch. He wore a shirt with buttons she’d never seen before, the material thin and soft. His hair was a wild mess of brown curls, stubble graced chin and cheeks along with a moustache. She’d never seen a man with one before, fingers gently caressing his face, she found the hairs soft and prickly, a contradiction in her mind.

When he finally woke, dusk was settling over them. “We need to go before dark, do ye think ye can stand? My home isn’t far from here.” She knew there were all kinds of wee beasties in the dark and though she was a healer, the dark fae would still have a field day with them if they didn’t get back before then. It took some time, he was heavier than he looked but just as the tendrils of dusk let go of the sky, the cottage came into sight and she sighed with relief as she pushed open the door.

He marveled at the quaintness of the place, the air thick with the scent of dried herbs and candle wax. She laid him on a cot by the hearth, tending to him, hissing as wet cloth was pressed against the wound, the pain radiating up the entire left side of his body.

“I know it hurts but I have to clean the wound, apply a salve and then I will need to wrap it. Once that is done, ye can rest while I make a healing tea and get some broth in ye belly. Ye’ll need ye strength before the next full moon. I think that is when ye be able to go back. I’ll keep ye safe, swear it.”

Over the following days, Frankie slowly regained his strength under Una's care. He was a modern man, used to hospitals and doctors, but there was something about her magic that felt natural, even comforting. As they spent more time together, he found himself drawn to her. She was not only kind but strong, wise, with a quiet confidence that intrigued him. She moved with grace but determination which was evident when she’d left him one afternoon to go hunting, she said, offering to go for her. To which she laughed when she asked if he knew how to use a bow and arrow, his answer being a resounding no. She’d come back with quail, watching in awe as she cleaned them and set them to cook over the fire.

Una, found herself growing fond of Frankie. His stories of the future fascinated her, but what struck her most was his resilience. Despite being out of his element, he wanted to help her around the cottage once he was able to move again without being in too much pain. Full moon was coming soon and even though she knew he’d have to leave, she taught him as much as she could and he was eager to learn. How to gather herbs, brew the healing teas she’d made him drink every day, he learned quick, laughing often over his clumsy attempts but there was a building tension between them that was getting harder to deny.

One evening, as they sat by the fire, she looked at him, expression serious. "Ye can't stay here forever," she said softly. "Full moon is in five days’ time. Whatever happens, you’ll have a place here, with me”

He reached out, taking her hand in his. "Una... I don’t want to leave you."

"Ye have to go back, Frankie. Your place is in your time, just as mine is here. But that doesn’t mean we have to forget each other."

He stood, taking her by the hand, pulling her towards him, looking down into the greenest eyes he’d ever seen, fingers undoing the braid that held white blonde hair in place, before his hands cupped her cheeks, thumbs caressing her skin. Leaning down, he gently kissed her. Her hands found his hips, digging into the rough cotton of the pants she’d stolen for him. She was hesitant at first before she began kissing back, swearing he could feel her magic swirling around his mind. Picking her up, he moved towards her bed, gently laying her down before stripping off her gown, tossing it to the floor where his clothes ended up next. He watched as she came to her knees, hand cupping his cheek before she kissed him, pressing her self against the warmth of his skin.

She pulled him towards her, as she laid back on the bed, feeling his entire body against hers, his lips at the skin of her neck, teeth nipping at her earlobes, causing a small moan to escape her throat. He moved down to her breasts, suckling at erect nipples, back arching off the bed, feeling the hardness of him against her pelvic bone. He had to have known, some where in the deepest recesses of his mind that she was a virgin, never knowing the touch of another. His name was a hushed whisper as she clung to him.

Frankie didn't need any more encouragement as he positioned himself between her legs, his cock hard, throbbing with need. He entered her slowly, savoring the feeling of how tight she was, the head of him, hitting that barrier, looking down at her and before he could say anything, her hands, cupping his ass, pulled him towards her and before he could blink, he was buried inside of her.

The pain was brief, like a bolt of lightening striking the ground, but the after effects of it, radiated through her body. She could feel him, not only filling her body but her soul, magic flowing around them, making her swear she could see stars behind closed eyes. Wrapping long legs around his waist, nails dug into his shoulders, drawing blood from the small crescent shaped marks. There was a tightness, deep within her, coiling tighter and tighter, before exploding, feeling her self clench around his cock, as fingers twisted in the curls at the nape of his neck. Knowing this would be the only time she would have with him, she wanted to experience everything.

He didn’t know how much longer he could hold out. He knew when she came, her orgasm blindsiding both of them. It was like a white-hot heat that was scalding his blood as his lips found hers, kissing her, before laying his forehead against hers, letting out a loud moan as he came, filling her with his seed. They lay there for a moment, catching their breath, before he rolled off of her, not wanting to crush her with his weight, laying on his side, an arm around her waist, blazing a trail of kisses along her shoulder as she laced her fingers with his.

Five days passed in which they barely untangled themselves from her bed, before they found the fairy ring that would take him back to the 21st century. They stood together at the edge of the forest; the air thick, not only with magic but with the bittersweet goodbye.

"Take this," Una said, pressing a small charm into his hand. "It’s a charm, to protect you. Maybe, one day, it will help you find your way back to me."

Frankie leaned in, capturing her lips in a final, lingering kiss. "Do you really think I will find you again?" voice thick with emotion.

“I don’t know.” Walking him backwards, hand cupping his cheek, she kissed him one last time before she shoved him into the middle of the circle, feeling the air being sucked from her lungs, magic swirling around him, and in a flash, he was gone. She stood there, alone in the clearing, her heart heavy but filled with hope, just as she knew her belly was full with his child.

Some loves are meant to transcend time, and she knew that their story was far from over.

#frankie morales #pedro pascal #moodboard

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b0nten · 1 year ago

Text

THE WHEEL OF FORTUNE STOPS AT DAWN AND SPINS BACK TO HOLD THE DEVIL

[SYNOPSIS] ˚⁀➷｡ being one of five special grades, you learn how to deal with exorcisms, but rarely with loss.

[NOTES] ˚⁀➷｡ i was kinda skeptical to post this because i don’t rlly write for jjk but i had this planned out (sloppily) in my notes for so long. i would like to thank @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat for inspiring me through their fic if i fell through the floor i’d keep falling to post this (i know we’ve never interacted before so i’m literally so sorry if this comes off as random & makes you uncomfortable) because a) of how much i love that fic and b) of how it reminded me of this and actually motivated me to finish and polish it. also big thanks to my shawtybae ray @httpshujii whom i left traumatized after i asked her to beta-read this fic😭😭

[EXTRAS] ˚⁀➷｡ timeline is probably WAAAAAAAAAY off, especially the shibuya incident/culling game. swearing, a lot of words.

24.12.2017

“you two can’t even tell good and evil apart.”

“doesn’t that guy piss you off, mimiko?”

“nanako, want me to hang him?” the brunette holds her rope tight around the dummy’s neck.

her sister, annoyed by the assistant’s words, hisses. “you guys don’t even know how sorcerers like us are treated in the shitty countryside that doesn’t show up on maps. you do all the good and evil you want. but for us, if geto-sama says so, then black is white and white is black. we believe in the world he sees; and we will hang everybody who gets in the way!” she threatens and they both take their combat positions, ready to strike when, suddenly, footsteps echo through the empty alleyway.

“cut it out, you three.” wind blows though silky hair and a perfume they all recognize takes over the air as all of their faces drop. “don’t bother, ijichi, they’re just as stubborn as their dad.” a smile glides across your lips, but disappears just a few moments later. “ew, my pants are stained with curse juice.”

“mom?” “y/n-san?” they gasp at the same time, and ijichi’s head turns back so fast you could swear you heard his neck snap.

“ ‘mom’ ? y/n-san, what’s going on?” he asks, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

“that’s a long story i’ll tell you only if you promise not to snitch to the higher-ups.” you grin at him, patting him on his shoulder as you pass by. “don’t worry, i’m not switching sides.” you reassure, and hear him sigh in relief.

with the speed of light, the twins rush towards you, embracing you in a warm hug.

“miko, please don’t hang my friend, yeah? and you, young lady, what did we talk about, try to be a little less hostile!” you scold, ruffling their hair a little rougher than usual. then, a crash startles all four of you.

“miguel? what the hell are you doing!” the light-brunette shouts, rolling her eyes once the man’s ironic response reacher her ears.

“ugh, ” you can only do the same, brows furrowing when another familiar face pops up, “satoru, pipe down! and pleaaaaase try to not kill him!” you shout to grab gojo’s attention, dragging out the plead.

“when you ask me so nicely, i guess i can make an exception for you, bestie boo!” he shrugs, winking with his only uncovered eye.

ignoring the antics that you’re so used to, your attention falls back on the girls.

“you two, ” you start, clapping your hands closed and dragging your right hand as to conjure a katana. then, you scrape a circle with it in the cobblestone, “i’ll teleport you somewhere safe, i don’t like where this is going, and i gotta clean up some of the curses suguru let loose around here. be careful, i love you.” you wave as a big fire sphere rushes up from the ground, building a barrier between you. before the girls can say anything else, they disappear completely. “ijichi, text me the date and time and i’ll be there. gotta get to kusakabe as soon as i can or he may need to get his diaper changed.”

you laugh, dissipating into a puddle of black, while your underclassman still can’t believe what he’s witnessed.

15.10.2008

you know that what you’re about to do is rash and irrational, and possibly clearly also considered treachery in the jujutsu world. the fact that nobody had already caught wind of what you were up to was and still is in itself a miracle, but you could narrow it down to them thinking you were still grieving; and truth be told, you still kind of were, trying to do it the best you could. healing fresh wounds is never easy and recovering from a break-up that didn’t directly happen is sometimes like trying to sew shut a deep wound with cotton thread.

and that’s what kept you going in the most excruciating year of your life: your wounds deserve to close properly, and it is within your right to be able to run your fingers across your skin, without fearing they’ll plunge deep into your chest and dreading to take them out knowing they’ll be covered in blood and the smell of a broken heart.

so you step, determined and furious to get your cause across. you bang your fists on the big door, and a chubby man of middle age greets you at the entrance.

“what’s your name? do you have an appointment?” he questions, and you answer with the same western bullshit name you gave when you rang them up to book said ‘appointment’. he turns a few pages in his clipboard and finally his face lights up.

“yes, please, come in!” his arm is stretched out in a gentlemanly manner, signaling for you to enter. and you do, something bubbling in the pit of your stomach. excitement? no, that’s almost impossible. hate? hurt? the wish for vengeance you have so obsessively dreamed about? you’re not sure about any of those. when you step into the room, though, you feel nervous. like you’re walking on the thin glass shards of your broken youth — the one that got spat and shat on by the same world that made geto spiral into his madness — stolen mercilessly by the greediness of the higher-ups.

“geto-sama will come in shortly!” he explains, and you gather all your composure to ensure you won’t vomit right then and there.

“he calls himself geto-sama now?” you wonder, and although you haven’t said it out loud, the title still leaves a bitter feeling on your tongue. you imagine maybe that’s what curses taste like to suguru.

“welcome, miss— oh.“ full of confidence he struts from behind two curtains, and when he sees you, his gaze softens and you swear you can catch a glimpse of the boy you lost an autumn ago. “it’s so nice to see you, y/n!” he calls out and picks up his pace, almost rushing to you. “i’m so glad it’s not one of those monkeys! sometimes i get nauseous from seeing them all the time!” he face-palms, then beams, and takes your hands in his, leaving a kiss on your temple, lastly pulling you close to him like he always did, even before he vanished.

you think you’re going to be sick again, watching him act all nonchalant and normal, as if nothing has happened. “how dare he?” you think, feeling the anger pierce your stomach walls, and settling in your throat. how can he act like this? like you’re still high-school sweethearts, like he’s just come back from a mission and you’re standing at the school gates, ready to welcome him back. your brain almost freezes, heart urging you to stay like that, but mind screaming at you to pull away from him.

so, against your heart’s wishes, you tear away from him. “monkeys? that’s what you call them now, suguru?” you click your tongue in annoyance, a habit he knows you have whenever you’re about to get petty. “what happened to civilians, non-sorcerers, humans, people?” you ask, blank face staring daggers into his soul.

“my love, they’re all just monkeys.” your once-lover says with the same nonchalance, “don’t bother being all so formal with them. they can’t even use jujutsu, like we do, so—“ before he can say anything else, you cut him off, something similar to a mix of anger and sadness in your voice.

“don’t call me that, suguru.” your voice cracks a little, eyebrows furrow and your heartbeat picks up its pace, and you think maybe your legs are going to give out on you any minute now. “i’m not here to play happy family reuinted.” you almost choke on your words. “i—”

“geto-sama!!! geto-sama!!!” a panicked, feminine voice comes from behind the curtains, and soon enough, two young girls emerge from them. one has light brown hair, the other’s is a little darker than shoko’s. they can’t be older than 6, 5 if you dare to overthink. the former is dragging her sister by her hand, and the latter is holding a plushy tight against her chest, stumbling here and there.

“what’s wrong, you two?” he asks gently, crouching down to their level. you remember how he used to speak to you the same whenever you came back from a mission sad or displeased and your heart drops at how easy it is to break down your walls and have memories growing like ice flowers in the archives you vouched to burn off your mind.

“mimiko—“ her gaze averts to you and ricochets into the ground, small figure balancing from foot to foot as she apologizes, “oh, i’m sorry for interrupting.”

when you look at them, you can’t help but smile. they look so… sweet. so innocent. what are they doing here? “that’s alright, you don’t have to pardon yourself, it seemed urgent.” with a motherly sympathy you didn’t know you held within you, you explain. with the corner of your eye, you see a smile bloom on geto’s face.

“ohmygod!” the same one calls out to her sister in a not-so-subtle whisper. “that’s the lady whose picture geto-sama has! the one he told us about!”

“nanako… you can’t say that when she’s in front of us… it’s rude.” mimiko half-heartedly scolds her sister.

you can’t help the blush from creeping up your cheeks or the laugh from escaping your lips.

“y/n, these are nanako and mimiko.” suguru explains and nudges them forward. “girls, this is y/n, but you already knew.” he smiles again, abstaining himself from laughing at his own semi-bad joke. “they’re…” he continues. “they’re my epiphany, the reason i left the useless jujutsu world and started to make my own.”

you try to ignore the last part of his introduction and his sickeningly smug grin, and you crouch down too, in order to observe them from closer proximity. “nice to meet you both.” you say, warmly, and touch the floor with your hand. a puddle of black forms around it and you awkwardly rummage through the void. soon enough, you pull out two candy-bars.

“i hope you two like macadamia nuts and chocolate. unfortunately it’s all i have right now.” you apologize with a sheepish smile, handing them the sweets. they look at geto to seek approval, and when he nods enthusiastically, they accept your gift with lots of giggles and bright grins.

suguru’s heart skips a beat before it melts. he really is touched you’re showing his daughters so much kindness, but he’s even happier he sees the same candy-bars you ate in high school. he feel nostalgic, even though he knows it’s only been a year. but just like in his case, he thought a year might have been significant change for you too.

the tender moment is interrupted by knocking on the door. “geto-sama, i’m terribly sorry to disturb, but your next appointment is here.” an assistant calls out, and geto is visibly annoyed.

“tell them to wait for a little bit. we’re still not ready to wrap up.” he commands, outside going silent instantly. “i am so sorry to cut this short, y/n.” he says, admitting regret, “you are welcome to drop by any time you want. and you don’t have to use a fake name.” he’s hopeful now, he’s even more confident, and he steps closer to you.

but as if you two are magnets of the same polarity, your body forces you to take a step back. his gaze saddens and something like despair flashes briefly across his face. it almost reads like “please come by again. please.” almost like a desperate plead.

“i’ll see.” is the only response you can give before turning around and heading to the door. before you open it, you look back at the three of them. “nanako, mimiko, it was nice to meet you.” you say, softness for the two canceling out whatever uncomfortable feelings you had before.

“you too, y/n-sama! please come by again!” they both say back, waving as you leave the room. a peculiar tickle renders your body almost perplexed when you hear the honorific.

you navigate through the temple like you’re trying to find the exit of a maze, but when you’re outside, you take a deep breath of fresh air. your hand travels up to wipe the shells of the tears forming in your eyes and you swear you can smell the blood that’s gushing from your still unclosed wounds, sewn again with cotton thread.

“they’re my epiphany.”

they’re his epiphany.

you replay the scene in your head, and feel desperate the more you chant the mantra, as if your ego has not only been broken, but sanity stripped away from you. then, your thoughts are broken by your phone ringing. flipping up the cover, you try to play everything off as normal.

“shoko?” you say, “is everything alright?”

“i should be the one asking you that.” her tone is sharp, “is everything alright with you, y/n?” it softens, and like a dam about to break lose, you sniffle and answer out.

“no.” it’s clear, it’s there, you said it. you don’t have to pretend.

“come over. i miss having my girl around.” she says, and you giggle.

“you’re lucky i’m in the area. i’ll be there in fifteen, girlfriend. and stop talking to me like im one of your hoes.”

she just laughs manically before ending the call. you smile, and go.

10.04.2009

you don’t know for sure if whatever you feel against nanako and mimiko is compassion or pity. or maybe hatred, sometimes disguised as jealousy. but ever since geto said that, there is this little voice in the back of your head that keeps playing the same sentence, like your mind’s a broken record.

“he chose them over you.”

you’re not sure how to feel. they’re kids. they’re young, they didn’t coax him into starting this. maybe they were just caught in the crossfire, you like to guess. maybe they were the last straw.

or maybe, you were simply not good enough, which, in all honesty, was hard to accept. being a special-grade sorcerer that came from nothing isn’t easy. someone’s always on your back, refusing to get off; from the higher-ups to one’s parents. it’s hard to live up to pre-made expectations, and carry burdens on an already-cracked spine, but you’ve always been strong — so strong even gojo pissed his pants sometimes — so what happened? what made him resort to this?

finally, after looking through the things he left behind in his room, you came to understand geto didn’t leave because he wanted to, he left because that was what it came to. and slowly, you accepted that the twins really were nothing more than two girls caught in a crossfire, that geto somehow saved. his last mission, it must’ve been excruciating, he must’ve seen hell in its true form (again) or death itself in front of him (for the third time) when he went to that village and slaughtered it mercilessly.

that was actually the case, as you come to learn. after six months you build up the courage to visit again, this time unannounced, this time without a purpose. you were sure it’d be left unserved anyway, like the last one. so, when suguru welcomes you into the room once more, you make small talk. and ask about his life, sometimes trying not to gag when he makes disgusting remarks about “monkeys”.

and voluntarily, he tells you the girls’ story after they fall asleep on your lap, dead exhausted thanks to the running around they did. you learn their past, and see something ignite in suguru that makes you think. if you had been there, would you have done the same? would you have stopped him, or joined him? he did nothing wrong, he killed abusers. he killed people that beat two defenseless children, something he shouldn’t have been persecuted for, you thought. this whole monkey thing, tough, something else, another story. but maybe, just maybe had somebody heard him out, he wouldn’t be staying across from you dressed in robes but instead you would’ve been sitting in an apartment you bought with all the money you saved up, all four of you cradled next to the other watching tv with the volume off as to not wake up the sleeping girls. and maybe, just maybe, satoru would have found the fushiguro-zen’in boy and his sister that he’s so serious on finding and they’d come over and play together, while you, shoko and sometimes utahime and mei gossip on the couch and suguru, satoru, nanami and ijichi hang out in the kitchen.

if it weren’t for your teenage heart and forgiving soul, you wouldn’t have begged geto to consider your idea.

“i can try and negotiate a deal for you.” you’re serious, and not about to give up, no matter what he says. “i’ve been taking extra missions, suguru. they like me, they started to value my opinion in the last two years.” you say, and your eyes gloss over when you look at him.

“y/n…” he sighs. “this is my choice. i’m content living like this.”

you break a little.

“don’t say that suguru. it’s not too late, you know? i can vouch for you, i can make sure nanako and mimiko are safe, if that’s what you’re actually concerned about. i will take extra shifts, i will fight for you.” you start to crack and chip off at the edges. “in the end, you did nothing wrong killing those villagers, but that’s something they’re just gonna look away from because you killed non-sorcerers. hateful, filthy, non-sorcerers that deserved their fate.” you say, gritting and swearing behind teeth, jaw clenched and breathing like your lungs are glued together.

suguru always liked your sense of justice. it was always strong, defined, your moral compass was as clear as the sky on the first day you were transferred to jujutsu high. it was refreshing to see someone like you, that fought, no matter what; that gave herself up for the cause she wanted to prove. you would’ve killed yourself if it meant judgement had been served correctly, and even if it meant losing yourself on the way, you loved standing up for what was right. you’d tear at yourself so everybody could be happy. and he could see it in your eyes, the way they shine with the beauty of a thousand galaxies and the passion of a hundred suns, radiating hope, even after all that you’ve been through. you’re hope, you’re love, you’re light, ready to sacrifice herself just so others could grasp that spark even for a little while. ah, as long as…, like you said in your heydays, cigarette between teeth as geto lit it for you, shoko boo’d in the background and satoru annoyed nanami but entranced haibara, holding the world in your hands, ready to blast another wall, to save another soul, to make another life-source. you were temperance and the tower all in one, the embodiment of balanced destruction, the origin of damaged harmony. you ate, chewed and spit yourself out so everyone could see that you were raw — you were like them — you were all the same, kids with power and jobs too big for ages that didn’t even bloom correctly yet.

but this time, he can’t let you do that. you can’t be his divine intervention anymore, you can’t make a catastrophe of your life just to build his anew. he had chosen his way the day he committed mass murder, roots of his goal planted deep inside his hatred for non-sorcerers, and it was far too late to go back, no matter what you said or could have said or say, his life is now with his cult. and he looks at you, with his girls cradled in your lap and wonders of the life you could have had, had amanai’s death not taken such a toll on him. he never told you, but he wanted you to meet her. she would’ve absolutely adored you, no doubt, and vice-versa.

sometimes he wakes up in the morning and you’re not next to him and then he imagines it too: a little house in meguro, and he’d wake up at the crack of dawn and look at you sleeping peacefully beside him, then he’d get up and cook breakfast. he envisions evening walks in spring, when the cherry blossoms bloom, and nanako and mimiko running wildly along the river banks, and you shouting after them to be careful. his heart swells with what if’s and maybe’s but he remembers that in his world, he can achieve that. and he doesn’t have to worry about any of you three being in danger either.

you feel the need to change the topic. you feel the regret floating around in the air — you feel the wound you tried to sew shut so many times miserably — and it reeks of fresh blood and sweet tea and plum blossoms and the winter he confessed his feelings.

“let me help you get them to bed.” you smile, and he reciprocates. he takes nanako from your lap softly as not to disturb her sleep, and guides you to their room.

you find yourself kissing their foreheads as if they’re your daughters, as if you hadn’t met them only two times in your life, and suguru finds himself too close to you. you think he’s too close to you too, but right now, in this shit you’ve dragged yourself into, you don’t care at all anymore.

so you kiss him, you lift yourself up on your toes enough for him to already know what you’re doing and to bend down. electricity sparks and you see yourself in the middle of snowy shibuya crossing yet again, people going on about their day while you pour your hearts out to the other silently, carnally, with chapped lips falling against each other, devouring the curse of love with gluttony, and freezing hands tangled in the intimacy of two sixteen year olds dumb enough to think they’re able to write their own destiny.

that’s why you continue to visit. in the rest of 2009, 2010, 2011, and so on. between what you lost that you never even had, and the brief moment of serenity of feeling like a family with geto and the girls, you finally feel like you have something to live for.

it goes without saying that it still frightened you — if anyone were to find out where you were going, who you were going to — they all may have been put in danger. but the moment the big, wooden door to the temple opens and two smiley faces jump into your arms while the boyfriend you never had the guts to break up with greets you sweetly, all the worry dissipates. you were not there “to play happy family reunited”, you had found a family. and as twisted life had layed itself out for geto, maybe yours wasn’t that far from it either.

so, once a month you come, with gifts, with candy, with love and worry and whatnot. you’re there to see the twins grow up, sometimes you help suguru cut their hair, to navigate through all the stages of girlhood you experienced too — well, almost all, since it’s kind of hard to give them really everything when their dad is a wanted mass murderer in a world over half of the population doesn’t even know exists. but you’re there, and you’re happy when you’re with them. they’re your sun.

and it goes like that for years, you come, you laugh, and you leave. sometimes before you leave, geto kisses you chastely, and sometimes more, which means you stay the night, and he partially sees his dream come true the next morining; and he loves it, he can’t wait to get it done, but he feels guilty. guilty for the plan he’s come up with and guilty knowing you’re gonna be on the opposite side, no matter what.

when the girls turn eight, they start calling you ‘mom’, to your and geto’s surprise. but they like it, and honestly, so do you and so does their dad. it’s random, but it feels natural, it feels warm. suguru’s heart sinks, and he thinks he can keep his plan hidden and pushes it back a few more years, until he can’t anymore. so, on the twins’ eleventh birthday, a beautiful day of 2013, it’s the last time you come. you try to talk him out of it, but no matter how many pleads and promises and compromises, his decision is still the one he told you. that day, when you leave and look back with a fake smile at the kids waving at you from the door, the wind feels sharper on your face and the air is definitely colder than what it was supposed to ever be. you go to the bar and drown out your sorrows, glass after glass after glass after glass after glass until you’re numb. and even in the numbness, there’s still an aching pain, like a scorching dagger has been stabbed through your heart, burning the skin and muscle and everything in between on its way to bring you down. you wonder if that’s what curses feel when they’re exorcised.

so, while nanako and mimiko ask about you and why their mom isn’t coming anymore, you bury yoursef in work. you kill, you start to teach, you do paperwork. satoru comes over sometimes and when you look at him, you can only cry. shoko comes over more than sometimes, and when you look at her you can also only cry. they both hug you and sometimes cry with you too: a pity party. nanami writes to you a lot, and when you read his messages you also cry. sometimes you go to visit him, and he looks at you with a disgusting look. he knows you haven’t broken records these past few months because of your love for jujutsu, but because of the hate you bear for it. his heart shatters seeing his senior like this. so, he pours you tea and gets you the cookies you always loved, stashed next to a framed picture of you three — you, him and haibara.

kento always thought you were like glue. you kept everyone together. and although him and yu were only your juniors, you made them feel like they were your brothers. you brought together the jujutsu world so closely, you made it seem like it could work, until nobody was there to help you, even though you tried so hard. it was like a mirage, but so closely and delicately conjured one could swear it was real — maybe that was your true domain expansion — and you would’ve killed yourself if that meant it’d be kept intact, and you kind of did, because at the price of your own well-being, you took care of the others. you worked overtime so gojo had less missions to go on, helped nanami get out of jujutsu and welcomed him right back with open arms and broken heart that still needed mending desperately, and helped shoko with med school until she decided she’d just cheat herself into getting her eligibility.

and you’re a wreck, so you browse pictures in your phone of you, suguru and the girls, you frame them but keep them away from the world’s eyes, god knows who may find them and put you on death-row too. you look at them and feel like you’re mourning geto a second time around, but this time you’re also mourning.. your kids. the kids who called you mom, who sometimes called you up at night when they had some “girl problems” they couldn’t tell suguru right off the bat, the girls that asked you to sew their ripped clothes, and who watched you and geto do that side by side.

you didn’t understand how suguru came to that conclusion, to push you away for good. you never tried to erase his ideology from the girls’ minds, you simply mothered them. you loved them, trained them, you loved him, so what was up with him?

geto feels miserable too. he lost you once, and now he’s lost you twice. he’s rougher with his monkeys, he feels like he’s mourning once again too. and when he looks at nanako and mimiko he cannot stop his heart from ripping apart. they look at pictures of you. every single day, there’s not one that passes when he doesn’t want to call you and tell you to come back. to be the glue, to love him and his daughters, to make them laugh and jump and smile and make him feel warm and fuzzy inside all again. for the first time in his life, he has doubts about his dream world, because when he looks at the once so cheerful duo, sad while holding your picture, and when he remembers the tears in your eyes and how you wiped them away quickly when they came to hug you goodbye, he wants to kill himself like you always did for your cause. he wants to make the devil chew him and spit him out for forgetting you are just like him too — flesh, bones, and misery.

so, for once in his new life, geto does something he never thought he would do — he compromises. exactly 364 days after he forbids you from coming by again, he tells the twins they can go out in the world and enjoy their life. maybe they’ll go looking after you, he thinks, he hopes, and he sees their faces light up and they see his do the same. “but don’t talk to monkeys when it’s not necessary!” he orders, no, he asks. he can’t order his children around.

and mimiko and nanako go out in the world, alone, for the first time, the following day. geto asks them to buy any cake they want, to celebrate for when they come back. so they head to the bakery that breached the barriers of what they knew, once every thirty days: they mostly knew the universe geto had created for them, and once a month came clashing down an asteroid, with flowers, sweets and everything the cult didn’t really have, their mother.

so, after almost getting lost thrice on the metro, when they enter the minimalist store they searched on google maps because they kept a cardboard box of sweets you once brought over, and see your tired figure, tears in your eyes as you mouth and explain the kanji of their name to the lady with the piping bag in her hand, their eyes swell and they can only weakly sob “mom..?”, unsure if it’s actually you or a mirage.

when your head snaps in the direction of the door and you see the two kids you missed so badly in a year, you stare at them blankly. you’re afraid to get close to them, thinking maybe they’re just a shadow created by the months of exhaustion, but when mimiko asks if you remember them, you break down crying, embracing them while they weep on your shoulder too. “how could i not?” you stifle between sniffles and feel them hug you even tighter. it’s almost like movie scene, and even the cashier is on the verge of tears.

when you pull away, you’re all red-eyed and stuffy-nosed, hair a mess and hearts clammy. “let me pay for the cake first, and we can go to my place, yes?” you say and they both nod like they did when you weren’t quite as closely acquainted yet.

“we also have to buy a cake..” nanako says, “could you help us?”

you don’t hesitate and pull them to the refrigerator to chose. “what was the one you always bought?” mimiko asks, heart thumping in her chest. “well, it’s the one i have over there, but they’re actually order-only.” you say, eyeing the cake, sad. the twins bite their lips and scan whatever’s left in the display window.

“excuse me,” the lady jumps in, trying to regain composure too “we have cupcakes with that same filling, if it’s any better!” she says, “and they’re 20 percent off if you buy more than 10! and 50 for more than twenty!”

“then we’d like 24 of them, please.” you say, twins’ faces dropping.

“24? isn’t that too much?” nanako chokes out, and her sister giggles a bit at her expression.

“not at all, no, no!” you reassure, patting their heads. “and don’t even dare to pay me back.” you half-heartedly threaten when the other one reaches into her pocket to take out her wallet. “put it back, miko.”

and so, you get to patch up your heart a little bit. you buy them candles, and they blow them on the cupcakes, and take pictures and laugh about whatever.

and it was like this a lot, because whenever they came over to yours they begged you to tell them about your teenage years and show them everything you did. and, because you couldn’t bring yourself to throw away the years of beauty you had documented on film and paper, you showed them everything, accompanied by cups of tea from porcelain haibara bought you from missions he went on, and cakes and biscuits and all the snacks they asked for (thank god you always kept some stashed for satoru).

pictures of you, satoru, suguru, shoko, nanami, haibara, mei and utahime. they were all there — immortal in the plastic of the polaroids and untouchable in the albums — and no one could steal away those precious moments. you showed them pictures of every kind, going on missions and late night hang-outs in your dorms, they gasped at the sight of geto smoking and laughed at the hairstyles you did on him. in the span of weeks and months of two years, you showed them the person you had fallen in love with, and the friends that welcomed you with open arms in tokyo.

of course they were especially keen on pictures of you and geto, fangirling over the “couple pictures”, the ones shoko took of you both when you weren’t watching and later on gave to you. you showed them satoru’s first hangover, and how their dad held his hair back as he was vomiting his hollow purple into the toilet, and the selfie you and shoko took, a little less hungover, leaning against the stalls.

you showed them videos of you all rehearsing your techniques and geto protecting nanami from gojo’s annoying teenage ass.

you took them to disneyland and rode with them on all the rollercoasters they wanted, and took so many photos you bought nanako a picture-only phone. each of you hung them up in your homes, and sometimes suguru stumbled upon the girls’ pictures when he went into their room, and cried over your portrait upon seeing you in a winnie the pooh headband almost identical to the one he wore when he first took you there in high school.

and although, physically, it weren’t four of you gathered around the table anymore, you still laughed together and you felt free, until 2017 came along.

it was maybe early november when you got the call from satoru, away on business in sapporo. it sounded urgent, and first and foremost, he sounded scared. not frightened, but rather desperate, like he didn’t know what to do. therefore, on your first day back in tokyo, you went to see him.

“just rip the bandaid off, satoru.” you say, gently.

“geto has declared war on us.”

you’re left dumbfounded, tea cup shaking in your hand. you can only blink, awaiting gojo to say more. to give you more information.

“he came by the day i called you. said he’d unleash a thousand curses in kyoto and shinjuku on christmas eve. wanted yuta to join him and belittled maki.”

you put down your cup, head resting in your palms. it feels like a bad dream. you knew what to expect of him, that sooner or later he’d act on his crazy dreams of a non-sorcerer free world, but hoped it would be a lot later than this.

“was he alone?” you ask, gojo’s face making a funny look.

“no, two girls that wanted to eat crepes on takeshita and a shirtless guy.” he explains, “why do you ask?”

this time, you lie to him. you can’t let him know you’ve committed treachery for almost a decade now. “then we should also expect some counter-attack from them, not just some curses running loose.” you explain, and gojo nods approvingly.

“you’re right. we should be careful then, especially with the managers.” he says, and you only bob your head a ‘yes’. “y/n” his voice softens, and round shades peel from his face, “don’t do this to yourself.” he crouches down next to you, hand caressing your shoulder. when he feels your muscles tense, he welcomes you with open arms and you cry on his shoulder for a good ten minutes. when he feels you’ve calmed down, he unlocks his phone and dials a number. it doesn’t ring for long, and he speaks, “hey, emo girl. come over. we’re having a reunion.” he laughs, “y/n’s sad, so you do the maths on how manny bottles you bring.” he says, regretting instantly. “wait, don’t you think five is too much, shoko? hello? shoko? agh, fuck you, girl.” you laugh, and so does he, stroking your back once more. “everything’s gonna be okay, babygirl.”

“dont you ever call me that again.”

the next day, you wake up with your phone blowing up, next to shoko, in gojo’s bed. “answer the fucking phone already.” she groans, and you do, but not before kicking her side.

“yes?” without even looking at the caller id you speak, head spinning from all the alcohol (two bottles and a half, each) and voice hoarse from the packs of cigarettes each one of you smoked the previous night. (three, each.) there goes shoko’s quitting.

“mom? you’re not answering the door, are you okay?” nanako speaks from the other side and you instantly jump out of bed, startling your friend.

“i’ll be there in… fifteen. please wait.” you say and hang up after hearing a positive answer.

you dart from the apartment, hugging gojo on your way out, explaining something came up.

you drive through the city with the speed of light, getting home not just in time, but seven minutes early, and the twins hug you when you see them. when they sit you down on the couch to tell you something, your heart sinks, because you can already feel what it is.

“geto-sama declared war on the college last week.” the fawn haired admits, and the other just looks down at the ground.

“i know.” is all you say, trying to hold back tears.

“we’re really sorry. and if you don’t want to see us again, it’s alright, we, we get it.“ mimiko says, words pulled out of her mouth with prongs, almost unable to finish her sentence.

“don’t you ever think something like that.” you snap, dam breaking behind your eyes. “i saw you all this time despite not agreeing with suguru’s ideology, but you’re still my kids too, you know? i have also done some parenting these last ten years.”

it’s bittersweet, and they feel it too, and they cry too, because from being rescued by suguru to seeing the stranger lady walk into their temple every month and showing them the kindness only geto ever did, you became their mother. you stuck by them, always looking over your shoulder whenever you visited them and taking extra precautions whenever they visited you. you were their asteroid, you were their world, and although geto hurt you, not once, but twice, you still loved him and them like you were there when he saved them.

and they always saw the broken youth and undreamt dreams that hid behind your eyes, so motherly, so tender and reassuring albeit living no better than a fugitive. their lives were less stressful than yours, because you sacrificed yourself to come see them. maybe out of fear of losing geto yet again, or denial, but whatever you may have feared, you always put your little beautifully broken and beloved family above all else, bravely so.

“just promise me you’ll both be careful.” is all you say before they collapse in your arms. and you stand there, reeking of alcohol and cigarettes and the blood of the wound you thought closed up.

“we will, no matter what.”

24.12.2017

you walk into jujutsu high and can’t believe your eyes. you’re tired from killing curses and giving kusakabe a pep-talk every ten minutes, but you don’t think this is all in your mind: smashed cobblestone, holes in the ground. and blood, lots of blood.

you run into the infirmary, shoko’s door flying open as she lets out a half-scream.

“what’s your problem?” she asks, partly annoyed.

“i’m sorry for worrying about my students after i babysat a grown man all day.” you reply, and she laughs, “atsuya again, huh? too bad he’s actually talented, that crybaby persona gets too much somtimes. they’re all safe, yuta used rct on them, but gojo wants to talk to you.” she says.

“is he in the common lobby?” you ask, and she nods approvingly.

when you enter the room, you feel a chill creep up your spine. satoru is still, way too still.

“y/n.”

“satoru.”

he gulps down saliva before asking you the question. “did suguru have daughters?” he says, and you answer, mindless.

“yeah, he has tw—“ then it dawns on you. “satoru?” he sees it too. in the small crack of your voice, some glass shards hitting the linoleum. “satoru, don’t tell me,” you’re on the verge of tears. your throat is dry, stomach doing flips. “oh my god.” you gasp, legs turning into sand, and he rushes to catch you.

“he told me to take care of the three of you, and i didn’t understand and i thought about the crepe girls and then you of course and.. you and.. i… i’m sorry, y/n. i didn’t want it to end like this.” he spits out word after word, boulder rolling off his shoulder, letting himself cry in your embrace.

“no one did, satoru. i’m never gonna blame you for his death, yeah?” your eyes start to water too. he’s still the boy that lost his best friend, you’re still the girl that lost her boyfriend, shoko is still the one that lost a best friend, and you’re all three still teenagers, waiting for someone to guide you through the loss.

you stand like that for a while, until you both calm down.

“thank you.” gojo satoru, the strongest, smiles through tears he’d only ever shown a handful of people.

“thank you, boywonder.” you smile through tears you’d only ever shown a handful of people.

“i have to talk to yaga.” he runs a hand through his hair, exhaling shakily before hugging you goodbye.

you sit down in your chair and watch the sun set. through the window, maki, yuta, panda and inumaki wave at you. you reciprocate, thankful they’re still alive, when all of a sudden your phone rings.

“mom?” the moment you answer, mimiko’s voice cracks on the other end. she usually isn’t one to call, so you’re guessing you know what this is about.

“i’m coming.” you say between your own small shallow breaths, waving the students goodbye through the window once again. you make another quick phone call before leaving campus.

“yes?”

“megumi, gojo’s had a rough day and i can’t spend time with him tonight. shoko also has to do overtime at the morgue. can you keep him company for a bit?”

he sighs. “yeah, i will.”

“thank you.”

“sensei… take care. you’re a great sorcerer…and a great person. just felt like you needed to hear that.”

“thank you, megumi. you too, kiddo.”

31.10.2018

“you know this was reckless, yeah?”

“we’re sorry for keeping you in the dark so long. it’s just — we knew you would’ve stopped us if we told you kenjaku took over geto-sama’s body, and we really want him to have a proper burial.” the brunette clutches her phone to her chest, eyes fixed on the ground.

“we didn’t mean to keep you in the dark so long, but you were already grieving geto-sama for the second time. we didn’t think you’d find out like you did.” mimiko apologizes too, and even though they stand in front of you, apologizing for the biggest mistake they have ever made, you can’t scold them. not when they thought about you, about easing your pain.

“you guys did a stupid thing, that’s all i’m gonna say.” the pause and sigh you take between sentences make them want to burry themselves into the ground, “but i’m not mad, because you did it with good intent.” your voice softens and their gazes come up, meeting your face. “i’m gonna help you, but please wait until i come back.”

their faces lighten as you stroke their hair, stopping when your phone rings.

“ijichi? itadori? alone? shibuya? what’s he doing there? he’s supposed to be in harajuku station with mei ” they read between the words, knowing exactly who this itadori is, “i can’t, i really have enough curses to fight, the meiji-jingu area by itself is packed.” you apologize with gritted teeth and exhausted breath, “i’ll enter the curtain when i’m done, and send you guys some back-up,yeah?”

you look at the twins again, wanting to instinctively crouch down to their level, but they’ve gotten too tall for that. “please, don’t go out. and if you do, be careful, and stay safe. don’t do anything rash.” you say, embracing them both. “i love you two so much.” you hold onto them a bit longer than usual, kissing their cheeks before unlocking the door.

“we love you too.” they say in unison, and smile.

“be careful, yeah? lock the door after i teleport.”

“always.” is the last thing you hear before disappearing.

9.11.2018

“come on, pick up, pick up, pick up…”

you bite your nails in frustration. it’s been a week since the culling game has started, a week since gojo got sealed, since nanami died. since maki got burned. and the biggest act of jujutsu terrorism happened in less than 24 hours under your very noses. a lethal battle royal, where everyone has to kill each other.

it’s been a full week since neither of the twins have contacted you. they don’t respond to their texts either. for mimiko it was normal, she didn’t really use her phone as much as her sister, but when nanako, whose cursed technique is all about using her phone, doesn’t have it, then that’s when you start to worry.

“sensei…” megumi walks up next to you, visibly worried, “who are you looking for? maybe we can help?”

you’ve known megumi ever since gojo found him, and met tsumiki a few times too. you helped gojo train him, something that turned out useful because of your somehow similar cursed techniques: his ten shadows and your use of void space were easy to adapt to the other. you had grown close, especially because of your shared annoyance for his guardian. yet, he never once met your daughters. you would’ve loved to introduce them to each other, mimiko would have been thrilled to have another just as quiet friend of her age and nanako would have loved to bother the two of them. still, you didn’t. you couldn’t, because that would mean explaining to gojo why you have two kids with you and (while still visiting the temple) possibly needing to convince suguru to let you take them out, and even a possible slip-up would’ve meant all hell breaking loose. though sometimes you thought maybe not, since it wasn’t non-sorcerers you were wanting to befriend them with, but it was still too risky. higher-ups had eyes everywhere, and you didn’t want to risk being labeled as foe.

“y/n-sensei, fushiguro’s right!” yuuji chimes in, making you laugh a little bit, “tell us, maybe we’ve seen the person!”

“and once we’re done speaking with master tengen, we can help you search for them.”

“you too, yuki?” you sigh, still spamming the call button.

“that’s tsukumo-senpai to you!” she jokes.

“ugh, someone, take this thing away already! it keeps buzzing way too much!” a hole opens on itadori’s hand, sukuna groaning some curse words and spitting a cell phone out, full of annoyance and disgust.

your heart drops and your mind blurs as you look at it. green, silicone, bunny ears.

“sensei?” yuuta now directs his attention to you too. “sensei, what’s wrong?” he seems worried, and so do the rest of them.

“what’s that?” choso points to the green rectangle on the ground, crouching and flipping it around. they all look at the screen, which reads “mom”.

“that’s a cellphone, choso!” yuki explains.

“that’s — that’s nanako’s cellphone.” you stammer, collapsing to your knees. “yuuji, when— how? this is bad, bad, bad, bad..” you think out loud, voice shakier with every word as you flip the phone from one side to the other. “she-she can’t use her technique without her phone, oh my god. but she’s definitely with mimiko, so maybe they can transfer points to each other, and her combat skills aren’t bad at all, maybe.. ”

“y/n-sensei, i don’t know how that got there.” itadori speaks, almost ashamed.

“i do!” another orifice opens on his hand, grinning. “i killed them.”

everybody’s in shock, you gasp, phone falling on the floor as both your hands cover your mouth.

“the dark haired’s head i blew off, the other’s i sliced.” the curse continues.

“itadori, please make that thing shut up.” maki orders harshly, expression softening when her gaze falls back on you.

“sukuna, this is not the time for jokes.” itadori intervenes.

“i’m not joking. they tried to boss me around, telling me they’ll give me another finger if i kill kenjaku. some brats, trying to command the king of curses around, pfft. i couldn’t give a damn about them wanting that body back or whatever.”

yuki and yuta help you up. megumi stares at you, and choso has partially read the air, pitiful expression plastered across his face. itadori’s head hangs low. yours does too. you don’t blame him, you could never, but you’d like to beat sukuna dead right then and there. exorcize him out of his mind, over and over again. your blood boils, and you feel the cursed energy forming in the pit of your stomach. the ground breaks beneath you, literally, and everybody watches the crack extend into the horizon. you feel like a part of you has died again. the first one died when geto committed mass murder and disappeared off of the face of earth, the second one died when he told you to stop visiting the temple. the third one died on christmas eve, with suguru, and two more parts, the fifth and sixth, died when you found out your girls were dead, a few moments ago. you didn’t even know you had that many in you, but you knew you needed an outlet.

so, you use the only one you have around, that is not fatal to anybody: you let the shards break, you let them explode, allow them to cut you — you scream. you scream, falling to the ground, hands gripping at your hair. and you scream, you scream for nanako and mimiko, for suguru, for satoru, for shoko, for nanami who could’ve escaped his destiny had he not come back, for haibara, for inumaki, for mai, for mechamaru, for nobara who’s fighting death, for the youth you had lost, for the kids that are next to you in this hellhole, for the youth they’ve been stripped of, you scream for your life and scream. and megumi sees one of the women he grew up around losing it, and yuta and itadori see their teacher in shambles, maki sees her role model falling apart; yuki sees the only other special-grade, that’s not a teenager, she has left fighting to not blow up the country, and choso sees a talented sorcerer with a good heart dying inside.

and you scream, you scream until your throat is dry and even dryer and you cough, cough dry, cough blood, cough until you just stop.

megumi kneels down in front of you, and you just stare at him. he looks back at you, eyelashes wet with tears he’d never admit of having shed, silently begging you to not leave him too. he grasps your hands softly like suguru did on the first day you showed up at his temple and pulls you in to hug you. and you see in him the boy suguru used to be, and in all your other students the group of teenagers you built a family with and your heart breaks because they built their own too.

maki kneels down too, and hugs you too, and so does yuta, and although, sheepishly, yuji does that too. choso thinks a bit but megumi nods in approval and he does join, and yuki also circles her arms around you as you cry. deep down you feel and know they’re scared of what you would do, so they hold you down.

megumi never saw you cry once. not because you weren’t a cryer, the three of swords was marked by scalding iron on your heart, but because you never really cried in front of people you didn’t know, or people you didn’t want to perceive you as weak. but he remembers the only time — once, when him and tsumiki were staying over at gojo’s for the weekend — he heard you through the walls. he was eleven, he believes, and he still remembers how you sounded. the memory is sewn into his brain, and whenever he remembers it, his stomach knots and his lymph nodes harden. since then, sometimes, when he saw you smiling, he only thought about what’s kept underneath your smile and your designer clothes and jujutsu records that you broke.

“i raised them, they were my girls too.” you whisper, “they only wanted their dad to have a proper burial, was that really so much to ask for?” your head shakes in disapproval to their fate, “curse users or not, i still carry their picture around in my wallet, i still have every inch of my home full of pictures of them.”

you stop to catch a breath. they’re all still around you, not letting go.

“if it means killing kenjaku, i’ll turn myself into a vengeful spirit if it has to come to that.”

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fayrinferno · 2 years ago

Text

The Complete Escaflowne Pilgrimage

Why am I posting a random train video? Well, you gotta wait for it... Today, Escaflowne is older than its number of episodes for the first time. Happy anniversary! I thought I’d finally post this thing that is so overdue, you wouldn’t believe. Thanks @coverteyes for proofreading once again, I would likely not get this out anytime soon without her help!

Warning: this is very long and image-heavy under the cut. Preview:

As you may know, I lived in Japan for some time a few years back. Obviously, I had a great time. There are so many things to see, to try... even one year didn’t feel like it was enough! Of course, this sentiment is shared by a gorillion of other people, so yeah, tourism in Japan thrives... unless there’s a pandemic going on. (Man, I really had no idea what would happen… I started writing this after I got back from Japan, right before 2020).

In any case, what has been gaining popularity in recent years are the anime tours, covering the spots featured in popular titles. The anime makers often reference real places in their work, one of the reasons I was surprised to see that real Japan looks very much like anime Japan. Add the sense of detail that they possess, and you get a very faithful rendition of the atmosphere you get in existing places, in Japanese cities and countryside, in trains, in schools etc. Of course, die-hard fans easily spot the places, and something as mundane as a random staircase or a zebra crossing becomes a “monument” worth visiting!I am always behind on new anime, and my thing is fantasy and sci-fi rather than slice of life, so I probably passed some of these places unknowingly. Anyway, it’s no secret that I have a soft spot for my fav anime titles from my teenage years, especially Tenkuu no Escaflowne. It takes place mostly in the alternate world of Gaea, but the main heroine, Kanzaki Hitomi, goes to school (lives?) in a town inspired by Kamakura, Japan. Well duh, her school is even named Kamakura Kita. But there are also differences, more on that later.

Since there are only a few existing places from Escaflowne you can easily find, I decided to get all of them. Starting, of course, from Kamakura. The first two visits to the city were not done for that purpose, but I still managed to capture some familiar views. On the third, I planned to catch everything I still missed.

What really helped me was the map and the comic published in The Vision of Escaflowne Fanbook back in 1997, only about one year after the series aired. The whole book was put together by Escaflowne fans. The map was created by two fans who went on a quest to search for the spots and then drew a small comic about their adventures. Thank you, Yufuko-san and Izumi-san, you helped me a lot there!

So the tour is done by Senoo Yufuko, who introduced herself as “a part time housewife” and Izumi, the “guide” and “Escamakuramaster”. Funny thing is I googled a person called Senoo Yufuko and found out she's a fantasy novelist. What was more interesting was that her website is called Usagiya…as in, usagi, or rabbit. Like the rabbit in the comic about the Kamakura stroll. From her website I opened her twitter, and then I had a revelation with the first look at her twitter profile pic. HOLY ... it was her! This Japanese fantasy novelist, who is the age of my dad, made a fan pilgrimage to Kamakura in 1997, and she is still active! She did this tour with her one year old in a stroller, who would be... the age of the series itself now! This was somehow very heartwarming for me. Anyway, on with the report!

I didn’t bring the Fanbook itself to Japan but fortunately I had it scanned. So I stopped at the nearest conbini (convenience store) and printed out the pages. Armed with those, the camera, the series screencaps saved on my phone, and some rations, I embarked on a third journey to cover everything I missed the first two times. My theory was, if the scenery was supposed to be based on real Kamakura, in the 90s analog age, they had to use photos as references. And if there were photos used for the scenes, they can be taken again from the same spot! So I tried to capture as many as I could.

How to get there (and around)

I mentioned this elsewhere, Kamakura is an old, coastal town south of Tokyo with many sights and popular beaches. To get there, you hop on the Yokosuka line for Zushi in Tokyo–the trip costs only a few hundred yen (or a few bucks)– and before you know it, you’re there.

First thing you will certainly pass if you take a train is the Kamakura Kita or Kamakura North station (named the same as Hitomi’s school). This station is also referenced in one of Escaflowne episodes, more on that later. Anyway, it is worth getting off the train there for other reasons, too, as there are several pretty temples and gardens in the area.

The following train stop is already the main station of Kamakura itself. You may feel surprised at how many tourists circle the station, but then, it is a really popular getaway from Tokyo. I read somewhere that many foreign fans come to Kamakura because of Slam Dunk, a popular basketball manga. Many more come to Kamakura because of Kamakura. I can guarantee that not many come because of Escaflowne, which seems a bit forgotten and obscure by now; I didn’t see any references to it during my stay, when some other, more popular, 90s titles came up from time to time.

So, in this case, I was an exception, but I also quickly fell in love with the town so I cannot say the anime was my only motivation in returning there.

In the town itself, you can move around by the Enoden (literal translation of the full name is Enoshima electric train). This cute, green antique train is an attraction in itself and connects Kamakura and the neighboring city of Fujisawa. If you make more than two Enoden trips, it is already worth getting a Noriorikun, a one day pass, right away at the station. I also got a souvenir of Enoden from one of the gachapon machines.

There are plenty of things to do in Kamakura: there is the Great Buddha, historic temples and shrines (used to be the seat of the shogun and a capital), the famed Enoshima aquarium (featured in the Kuragehime jdrama, for example), beaches popular for surfing, windsurfing etc. But if you are crazy, you may wanna try to find some anime sights instead.

So let’s finally get to it. The photos are mine, taken mostly with a Fujifilm XT-20 camera. (Please note that I filtered and adjusted the photos as necessary to get the closest possible result.)

Starting from the first episode….

Hitomi’s and Yukari’s walk home (EP1)

After Yukari catches Hitomi in a compromising situation with Amano-senpai at the infirmary, they walk home side-by-side. Yukari mock-scolds Hitomi about making a move on him behind her back and teases her into buying her desserts. They descend steep stairs, pass several buildings and then walk into the tunnel where Yukari tells Hitomi about Amano’s imminent departure.

The dessert enumeration happens right in front of this cute little building, now housing a hair salon.

They also pass this small church that is right across the street.

You can get to this area by a short walk from the station along Shiyakushodoori (City Hall Street).

As they pass the hair salon first, then the church, they seem to be coming from the other direction, towards the station. After the church and the stairs they get to the tunnel.

I passed two or three tunnels walking this very road, and more can be found around, because the area is quite hilly. I think there are two potential tunnels that could be the one Yukari and Hitomi walk through: Onari tunnel and Shinsasuke tunnel.

Izumi-san thinks this is the tunnel in question, because it had a fence on top and “nameplate” like the one in the anime (the nameplate was changed to just a fenced opening from the production sketch).

Because of the thriving shrubbery, I could not see any fences nor nameplates, but I believe I got the right one. They really tried to replicate this funny tunnel. It’s funny because the opening has a different shape on both sides. The side which Hitomi and Yukari are coming out of is more or less the correct shape though, which is why I think this is the one. It’s in fact the first tunnel you pass on the way from the station.

On the other hand, during another visit, I got a picture of the perfectly round Shinsasuke tunnel further up the road. This one has a phone booth next to it, like the one in the anime (although the booth is on the wrong side).

What do you think? Which one is closer? I think it may have been the combination of the two.

Here’s another bonus shot of the inside of the first tunnel:

Sasuke Inari Taisha / Sasuke Inari Shrine (EP1)

Escaflowne TV kicks off at Hitomi’s school called Shiritsu Kamakura Kita Koukou, which is imaginary, sorry. But just across the street from this made-up school, there is a familiar thing... a shrine with red torii gates leading uphill in the woods. The shrine where the dragon follows Hitomi and her friends while Van tries to kill it to obtain its minerals.

In reality, the entrance to the shrine is not across some street, but rather, a small street leads to the entrance. It is pretty hidden in a residential area, and the torii gates feel way smaller than they seem from the anime (you can see a pic with a certain person as a comparison in the previous post).

Anyway, this red torii-lined pathway is a feature of many other inari taisha (fox shrines) across Japan. My second visit to the shrine, I heard the fox barking, even (and I rushed away cause I was alone haha)! The most famous fox shrine in Japan is probably the Fushimi Inari in Kyoto, with literally thousands of red torii of all sizes and numerous shrines lining the way up the hill. But you can find a similar-looking pathway randomly in Japan!

What makes this the referenced shrine was the main building which looks similar, but not the same. The steps to the side shrine (where Hitomi and co. escape after the dragon follows them up to the main shrine), also look a lot different.

Shibuya 109 (EP 8)

This is the only Tokyo landmark to appear in the series. Hitomi has a dream/vision of a date with Allen and they go to a game center in a department store called “Shibiya 1G9″, or something. (The reason behind the mangled name is probably trademark use/advertising reasons.)

Ta da. Allen and Hitomi have lots of fun, until Millerna arrives and snatches him off with her carriage. Then her dream and the building collapses, in a recurring motif of a falling tower.

It took me one visit to Shibuya 109 to see why the creators would choose it. This is heaven for teenage girls, especially. Don’t know about the 90s, but now it houses covering all kinds of scene brands, Korean cosmetics, and ultra kawaii and hip fast food stalls. I saw many teenagers around, just hanging out. It seemed like a place definitely on their map. It may have been remodelled since the series aired, but it seems to still remain a sacred hip place for teens.

Hitomi is not from Tokyo, but I guess she would be allowed to visit with friends over the weekends and such. It’s only a half-hour train ride. The Allen date is also something very Japanese. I lost count how many times I have seen couples hand-in-hand in and around shopping centers, with the girl holding a huge bagged plush toy the boy likely won for her from one of those machines. So of course she would imagine this as an ideal date!

Kamakura Kita Eki / Kamakura North Station (EP 16)

I mentioned this station earlier in this post. Kamakura Kita Eki on the line to Tokyo is shown in episode 16, when Hitomi’s mother invites Yukari and Amano to show them a picture of Hitomi’s grandma and tell them her story.

We are not shown the actual house from a distance, just a bamboo fence and a shot of the patio. I found bamboo fences, but not in the right shape of the street… but this kind of looks similar, if you use your imagination and see a bamboo fence instead (as this probably was many years ago). Really, this is just for effect, you can catch similar scenes anywhere in Japan, and probably even a closer match than this. But the atmosphere of the place was similar, as it seems a more traditional area of the town altogether.

Hitomi’s walk back (EP 24)

Have you noticed that Hitomi’s walk back home has a few extra scenes in Episode 24? There is one with Yukari on the steps that give an aerial view of the bay for example. I could not see any stairs after passing the hair salon, but the anime makes it feel like they should be in the area, so I explored a bit. Found some stairs, but they seemed to be leading to a private property, so I did not try climbing them. Instead, I turned to the Fanbook again.

Izumi-san and Yufuko-san think the stairs are located in another area, and they lead to the Gokurakuji Pass (apparently, it used to lead to the Gokurakuji temple but does not anymore). It was in an area that I was passing through on my way to Fujisawa in the evening, so guess what, I got off the train and I went to look for them even though it was dark already. What do you think?

You probably can’t see anything. But I think it’s possible a view like you see in the anime would open somewhere further up those steps and that path.

However, there was a closed gate so I could not climb them higher. I don't know if it was permanent or if it was closed because it was so late. But you know what, I take it as a sign to return next time and explore that area. It was the same with Mt. Fuji, we planned a trip but the weather prevented us from seeing the summit. So I still have the dream to climb Mt. Fuji one day!

Instead of the view we got from the stairs in the anime, I present to you another high view of Kamakura, this one from my Hasedera Temple visit. The actual photo I took is in the previous post, I used a sepia filter for this.

The final stop of my day trip was Fujisawa, from where I caught a direct train back to Tokyo. Izumi-san and Yufuko-san said that the area in front of the Fujisawa station looked like the one Hitomi wandered around when she got back from Gaea shortly in ep 24. These scenes are not present in ep 1, so it makes me wonder if she walked around the city that night after her tunnel talk to Yukari in ep 1, too, or if it was induced by the new discoveries about Yukari, Amano, and herself. But she seems to be home around the same time (“Hitomi, bath is ready!”) so could be the first option.

By the way, Hitomi’s house, as seen in the anime, fits the architecture of the area. I saw some similar houses but did not want to take photos of private property.

Back to Fujisawa, here are the stairs that looked a bit familiar, with a box advert in the back. (Unfortunately, there was some construction work going on though.) What do you think?

Streetview actually offers some better shots than I could make at the time (for the purpose of identification at least) and I think it actually confirms that this indeed is the model place when you look at the buildings.

The only other shot from this part was a crosswalk that could be anywhere, so I did not bother with it.

Kamakura Koukou Mae Eki / Kamakura High School Station (EP 26)

On my way to Fujisawa, I also shortly got off at Koukou Mae again (the station from the final scene of the anime, to be handled next) to capture the night Enoden in a similar way as when Hitomi rides it on the way home in episode 24. Mission failed.

But what I noticed is that the whole station seems to be flipped around for this scene of the anime! I was wondering why Hitomi was riding the Enoden to Fujisawa in the opposite direction than the actual train does, but that explained it. It was all flipped!

Anyway, back to Koukou Mae Eki. It is allegedly one of the most beautiful stations in Japan and a famous spot for the Slam Dunk fans as well. The Enoden line station itself is rather small, basically just a shelter, which was left unchanged. Also unchanged is the view of Enoshima island from that station, even though you would notice that the proportions are a bit off.

What is missing are the concrete tetrapods, even though they are nothing special on other stations on the line. Of course, they could have also been moved or removed over the years.

But even Yufuko-san and Izumi-san recommended going to the Koshigoe station to see the tetrapods, so I believe they were not here even in the 90s. I followed their recommendations and saw some behind a structure there. So they combined the view of the island and the tetrapods from the surrounding areas into one.

Also, what needs to be said is that the anime station building is not exactly the same as Koukou Mae Eki. The Fanbook says the design of the station was similar to the next Enoden station on the line called Hase on the photo below. Please compare and contrast.

As we see in ep 26, the back of the station is open, with some empty area behind the Koukou Mae station. This is not the case in the actual place. The back of the station is covered (though this could have been changed more recently to force people through the ticket turnstile) and right behind the station is a slope with a cemetery on it. That was a really strange discovery.

So that’s it, that’s all I managed to find! I had a mind to create a detailed map or something but you know what, if you ever get to Kamakura, probably it’s more fun discovering the stuff yourself. Maybe you can even catch something that I missed? I had more plans there, but with my luck I hurt my foot soon into my last trip. That, of course, slowed me down considerably. Well, see you next time then, Kamakura, and as you see, I have my eyes set on Enoshima already!

P. S. I may make a part 2 to this post, translating the map and the comic from the Fanbook, so keep an eye on that if this is of interest to you or would like to visit yourself!

#escaflowne #tenkuu no escaflowne #天空のエスカフローネ #anime pilgrimage #90s anime #kamakura #japan

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asordinaryppl · 7 months ago

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A3! Main Story: Part 4 - Act 13: Budding Spring - Episode 3: One Step Up

Kumon: We’re back~!

Juza: We’re back.

Taichi: I’m so hungry~

Tenma: Seems like it’s Omi-san’s turn today.

Tsuzuru: Kinda smells like demi-glace sauce…

Omi: The beef stew will be done soon.

Kumon: Yay~! I wanted to eat meat~!

Kazunari: Seems like the fairy boys have suddenly increased in energy~

Muku: Even though it’s actually just Kyu-chan that joined them.

Yuki: He counts enough for two or three more people.

Tsumugi: How’s uni life, Kumon-kun?

Kumon: Super fun! Unlike the classes in high school, I don't feel like I gotta cram like crazy.

Kumon: Also, I’m with Nii-chan!

Banri: I thought you’d decide immediately based on that, but you took your time pickin’.

Kumon: I had a lot to think about, y’know.

Kumon: I had to carefully think about which university to attend, not only based on where Nii-chan is.

Azami: The growth of the Bro-con.

Yuki: Though in the end, they ended up in the same university.

Kumon: I mean, Nii-chan and Tenma-san make it seem like it’s lots of fun!

Tenma: I can guarantee that much.

Juza: I’m glad you got accepted.

Taichi: He worked hard on the essay and when preparing for the interview~

Kumon: Hehe, it’s thanks to everything Nii-chan and Tenma-san and Taichi-san taught me!

Chikage: Seeing Tenma take on the tutor’s role was deeply moving.

Tenma: Thanks for that.

Kazunari: *Yawn*~...

Tsuzuru: You seem sleepy, Miyoshi-san.

Kazunari: I had some urgent job due yesterday, so I didn’t get much sleep~

Tsuzuru: Good work.

Muku: Kazu-kun seems like he became an adult in a blink.

Kazunari: What I’m doing is pretty much an extension of what I did as a student, but I guess my mindset’s changed a little since graduating.

Omi: I get it. The work increases as the responsibilities do, but it’s also quite fun.

Tsuzuru: Is that so…

Kazunari: You might understand come next year, Tsuzurun~

Izumi: Omi-kun was like that, too, but your image changed after you graduated.

Azuma: I look forward to these changes every spring.

Homare: Well, there are groups of people that have not changed much at all.

Azuma: Thanks to everyone, I can properly feel spring’s arrival.

Tasuku: I mean, the changes might not be big, but haven’t you guys also gotten busier?

Guy: You also seem to be getting more requests to appear as a guest.

Sakuya: Ah, actually, I think I might also get an offer to appear on a rather big stage—

Tsumugi: Really? I’m so happy for you.

Tasuku: This is the result of the experience you’ve gained so far. It’s proof of how far you’ve come as an actor

Sakuya: Thank you very much!

Citron: I have also had to do arts and culture-related jobs here and there~

Itaru: I’ve also started being treated like I can carry the company on my shoulders, it’s a pain…

Chikage: It’s your fifth year, of course you are.

Guy: That reminds me, the work I can leave to Mikage has also increased.

Hisoka: I can make some snacks now…

Tasuku: Like roasted marshmallows and marshmallow pizza?

Hisoka: Those too, but other stuff too.

Homare: To think you can make dishes unrelated to marshmallows… What remarkable progress!

Misumi: Speaking of new things, my friend Mii-chan gave birth to a kitten~

Muku: Congratulations to her!

Yuki: Doesn’t that have nothing to do with you, though?

Izumi: Just as everyone is moving forward and changing, the theater company is also changing.

Izumi: Speaking of which, the kid we met today also said he started high school this spring.

Kumon: Heeh~, what kinda kid was he?

Tsuzuru: He was a pretty interesting kid.

Masumi: Rather than interesting, he was just a pain.

Itaru: He was a passionate Masumi fan.

Izumi: He used to live in the countryside, and supported us through streaming.

Sakyo: So that’s MIZUNO Ent’s power…

Sakyo: As we expected, we’ll require continued efforts to reach as many people as possible.

Izumi: He also said he can’t wait to see a live performance.

Tasuku: Watching plays live has its benefits, after all.

Sakuya: That’s true. Since he said he’s looking forward to it, I thought we’ll have to do our best not to disappoint.

Izumi: Ah, that’s right! I had this idea after talking to the kid–

Izumi: What do you think about holding a workshop for beginners as our next event?

Izumi: Learning that there are people who became interested in theater because of MANKAI Company made me realize, we should do more activities that are about spreading theater to others.

Izumi: I think sharing the joy of acting together will be a beneficial experience for us as well.

Sakuya: That does sound good!

Citron: That sounds fun!

Chikage: But if it’s about teaching, rather than the Spring Troupe, wouldn’t members with more experience, like Tenma, or Tasuku and Tsumugi, be more suited for it?

Tsuzuru: True, we’re all novice actors, and a few years ago we were amateurs, will it really be okay for us to do it?

Masumi: I can do it.

Itaru: Not the guy least qualified to teach.

Izumi: That’s exactly why. You all remember what it felt like when you first stood on the stage a few years ago.

Izumi: You’re the most suited to convey theater from a beginner’s point of view.

Izumi: It won’t be a workshop for actors, or a workshop like Yuzo-san’s focused solely on teaching…

Izumi: I think just enjoying acting together and looking back on your old selves would be good.

Izumi: It can also be an opportunity to expand our fanbase…

Izumi: I think trying to get people to learn more about theater is something all of you can do at your current state.

Sakuya: I see… You’re right. Up till now, we’ve only focused on improving ourselves, but now…

Itaru: That’s true. We can probably have fun together.

Chikage: And it can also be a source of inspiration.

Tsuzuru: We might get a hint for our next performance.

Citron: Everything’s a challenge!

Izumi: Alright, it’s decided!

Izumi: Once we settle on a date, can I leave the design to you, Kazunari-kun?

Kazunari: Ofc!

Izumi: I’ll do the printing and distribution.

Masumi: I’ll help.

Itaru: We also need to announce it on social media. I can do that.

Chikage: Wouldn’t it also be good to announce it on the theater bulletin board?

Izumi: Then, I’ll leave the announcements to you two… Sakuya-kun, Citron-kun, can I ask you two to come up with the outline for the workshop?

Sakuya: Yes!

Citron: Let’s think of a chilling workshop for everyone~!

Manager: Ah, everyone, it’s almost time~!

Kumon: I’ll turn on the TV!

previous episode | masterpost | next episode

#a3!#translation #a3! translation #sakuya sakuma #tsuzuru minagi #tenma sumeragi #kazunari miyoshi #kumon hyodo #izumi tachibana #+ more #i think i'll do it like this? so it doesn't clog up tags of characters with small speaking roles

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thebreakfastgenie · 11 months ago

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oh i GOTTA know about hauntkeye

Sorry for the long wait! I got this after I went to bed and then I spent all day today thinking about how I was going to answer it well.

Hauntkeye is the document title name for my ghost AU, which I've talked about a lot on here but not so much recently. Hauntkeye/Ghost AU does have an actual title, but I'm not allowed to share it until I get more of it written.

The premise of the ghost AU is that Hawkeye dies, under circumstances very similar to Where There's a Will, There's a War, and continues to haunt the 4077th as a ghost. The ghost mechanics are based on the canon MASH ghost episode, Follies of the Living--Concerns of the Dead, so Hawkeye can't be seen or heard by anyone. There's an exception in that episode, where Klinger can see the ghost while suffering from a high fever, and this is something that will eventually come up in ghost AU, too. It's not a canon divergence from Where There's a Will, There's a War, though. It incorporates a lot of events from the show, reworked to include Hawkeye as a ghost, and some of those come from before season 10. Some of the events incorporated come from Oh How We Danced, Heal Thyself, Period of Adjustment, and more. It features the later cast, with BJ, Potter, and Charles, but Radar is still present.

Ghost AU was going to be my magnum opus until the time loop WIP took hold of me and now they're both going to be my magnum opus. I've sort of shifted my focus to finishing the time loop first, because it's slightly more manageable. Ghost AU is outlined at 13 chapters, plus a rather extensive epilogue. I've never finished something that long before, so it's intimidating, and I think having a finished project under my belt will build confidence and momentum.

The first chapter covers Hawkeye's death, and after that is divided between Hawkeye dealing with being a ghost and everyone else balancing their grief with running the unit without him. It's all from multiple POVs, so we get to see every character's thoughts, and occasionally we'll see living and dead perspectives on the same events.

This isn't really a spoiler, since it happens in the first chapter, so I'm going to tell you... Hawkeye gets wounded at the aid station, but he's brought back to the 4077th alive, where one of the other surgeons tries to save his life, but isn't successful. I'm not saying which one it is. :) You can guess; you have a 1 in 3 chance of getting it right.

Here are a couple snippets of the current draft, subject to rewrites:

The countryside, Hawkeye had noticed, always looked more scenic on the way back from battalion aid. Even in the dark, maybe especially in the dark; the wounds stood out less in the moonlight. Korea might be a beautiful country, he thought, if all the armies stopped blowing it to pieces. It was a shame to think he wouldn’t be here to see it, but once he left this place he doubted he’d ever have the stomach to come back. He never saw his patients whole, either. Father Mulcahy confessed to him once that he prayed for their lives, for their souls, and that they’d never come back. He’d seemed a bit anxious about whether the Pope would approve, but Hawkeye thought God—if he existed—would expect nothing less.

He worked mostly by touch. The boy was in shock, but he was still breathing. He found the pulse easily, which was a good sign. It was rapid, which wasn’t such a good sign. The problem was the chest. Even in this gray light, he could see the shrapnel wound. It was big and bloody. Very bloody.

I miss talking about hauntkeye and I miss working on it....... soon, I hope. There are a few scenes in particular I'm dying to share.

#thank you!!!!!#mashposting

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mangoshorthand · 1 year ago

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Thing of the Past- [Five Hargreeves x F Reader]. Ch7 (Hard Feelings Part 4)

SUMMARY: You can't avoid it any longer: Five has to meet your parents. It goes more wrong than you could possibly imagine, spiralling to bring up secrets he'd rather stay buried.

⚠️TRIGGER WARNINGS⚠️ Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine- Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven/Epilogue

Can the French countryside and good wine offer Five some respite?

Chapter contains some era appropriate deadnaming of Viktor.

⚠️Please heed content warning⚠️

Chapter 7: Therapy

You had checked in utilizing your very broken French. While Five is a polygot, French is, surprisingly, not in his repertoire beyond the basics. The check-in clerk had taken pity on you and switched to English as soon as the conversation became too advanced for your paltry (though valiantly applied) vocabulary.

Five wears a cleanly styled linen suit over a t-shirt yet is already too hot. You fare slightly better in a kaftan sundress. Back in New York, after Lila brought him back, him putting on this outfit had been the thing to convince you that he really was coming. You hadn't needed his apologies: you'd forgiven him even as you stared into the empty shower.

Now, you’re sitting together on the honeymoon suite’s terrace, looking out on the kitchen-garden nearest to you and fields of lavender, vine and olive-tree stretching off into the hills. The air is balmy and the herbal smell of the surrounding country seems to drift and play on the breeze, carrying sweet lark song along with it.

Turning his face to the sun and stretching out like a cat, he fans himself with a new panama hat.

“I gotta say, if I’m going to have a breakdown, I really couldn’t choose a better place.”

You squeeze his hand and pour him another glass of champagne.

“Well, here we are. We take things at your pace.”

He pulls his sunglasses down.

“How’s this for a plan,” he says, crossing his legs and reclining further in the sun lounger, “First, we go to the spa. Maybe go for a schvitz, then cool off in the Kneipp basins, then we get you a facial or a massage and I’ll have a jet shower, (think I’ll leave anything that involves being touched by a stranger for a few days), then we have dinner, maybe order some wine, then some more wine. And then I’ll get fucked up beyond all recognition, take you to bed and see if I can't throw a quick fuck into you without crying.”

He's trying to style it out with self-deprecation, downing the whole glass of champagne in one.

“You had me until the last part,” you smile. This is a little worrying. His hand feels fragile under yours, old somehow.

“That was just a rough sketch. We’ll iron out the kinks as we go.”

“No massage or facial for me today. Maybe we’ll get a couples one later if you feel up to it. But everything we do, we do together. If you’re getting fucked up, I’m getting fucked up. If you fuck me and cry, I fuck you and we cry together. You get me?”

He grins shakily, lifting your hand to his lips and kissing it with the gratitude he can't speak.

The resort is beautiful, nestled between mountain ranges in the countryside of Southern France. The buildings are rustic and airy; exposed beams running between traditional cobble-stone walls. Inside the floors are wood or stone-tile; the inner walls are covered in simple, light plaster and occasional half-wainscoting. Thin curtains flank the windows within and wooden shutters without. Inside stays blessedly cool, while the sun almost cracks the flags on the terraces and beats down on the vines, sweetening the growing fruit.

As the afternoon wore on, Five had relaxed, even kissing you in the steam room once it was deserted. He’d scooted along the wooden ledge like a boy edging towards his crush, smiling sheepishly. Slowly, he moved his tilted face towards yours. You’d stayed still, letting him test his own boundaries. His eyes flicked from yours to your lips and back again, only closing his eyes when the sides of your noses touched. He’d stayed like that for a moment before, fraction-inch by fraction-inch, he closed the gap between your mouths.

His first touch was gentle: a tender but close-mouthed press to the corner of your lips. The second was the same but to your cupid’s bow. His breath had quivered across your lips and his hands gripped the bench beneath him as he opened his mouth slightly. When he had taken your lower lip between both of his, you could feel him tremble.

Eventually, haltingly, he’d deepened the kiss and you’d allowed your lips to match his tender siege. When you’d broken apart, (quickly, for fear of discovery), there had been a familiar glint in his eye that you were happy, if surprised, to see. He looked on the verge of suggesting you head back to your suite right away but something had shifted inside him and he’d looked away instead, smiling guiltily and rubbing his neck a little.

At dinner, you get through a bottle of wine between you before the appetizers even arrive. By the time they do, you’re both extremely giggly. Five's laughter verges on the unhinged at times but you're glad to see him acting this close to happy

“They are never going to accept American bookings ever again.”

He snickers, “Well we gotta keep up our international reputation as obnoxious assholes. GARCON?!” he raises his hand and voice to a passing waiter.

“FIVE!” you hiss, embarrassed but amused.

He orders you another bottle of the wine from the unamused waiter.

"Désolé monsieur, mon mari..." you search for the appropriate phrase and the waiter smiles.

"C'est bon, madame. He is having too much..." he eyes the empty wine bottle, "fun?"

"Oui," you grin and Five nods emphatically at this description.

By the time the main courses arrive, you’re on bottle three.

“Can I try your steak?”

“Nope.” he says, through a mouthful.

“What, asshole, not going to let your wife try a bit of your dinner?”

“Nope.”

“You tried mine!”

“You offered. I didn’t.”

“What happened to ‘what’s mine is yours’?”

“Don’t remember vowing that one.”

“Fine. Be like that.”

You reach across the table and stab your fork at his beef, successfully spearing a bit. His fork attacks yours, knocking the meat back onto his plate.

“I’ve killed with a fork and I can do it again!” he threatens, laughingly. A woman at the next table gives you a disapproving look.

“I think we should skip dessert." you say, laughing guiltily, "We’re embarrassing ourselves.”

That’s what you end up doing, taking the last third of the final bottle of wine up to your suite.

You flop down on one of the couches by the artistically distressed fireplace and light the huge candle in place of a fire. On the other side of the chimney breast is your pristine bed, spread with crisp white sheets.

Five pours you both another generous glass of wine.

“Salud, dearest.”

You clink and return the salutation. He drinks deeply. He’s had more than you and your head is already swimming.

“I could asp-bolutely go for a massage tomorrow,” he slurs.

“Eh. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“I’m coming all the way here and not taking advantage of it all. My back’s tight as all shit.”

“Well…there’s no rush. We can stay as long as we want.”

He waves the hand holding his glass airily, sloshing the wine onto his pants.

“Ah shit.”

You cross to the bathroom unsteadily and return with a hand towel, kneeling beside him and dabbing at his thigh. As you feel the wine soak through the towel, you sense him trying to draw your eye. As you meet his gaze, he grabs your wrist, leans towards you and kisses you fiercely. When you respond, he tugs your wrist towards his crotch, encouraging you to palm the growing erection between his legs.

You turn away, moving your hand away from him by an inch or so. He kisses your neck feverishly.

“Five, are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Yes,” his voice is breathy, his nose nuzzles you a little too hard, a little too desperate, “Call it therapy.”

“Five."

His kisses are getting sloppy. He breathes you in, one hand still on yours, manipulating your hand again to knead his crotch. His other arm pulls you forward.

"No."

“Mmmphh?” he’s not paying attention, grinding his hips into your palm.

“I said No!”

First you push him and then he pulls himself away like he’s just received an electric shock. All the colour drains from his face and then floods back. The shame and fear flare in his eyes- he looks on the point of, blinking, running, hurting himself or who knows what, so you grab his upper arms.

“No. No. Don’t worry. It’s fine. You’re drunk. We’re both drunk. I don’t think this is right for you. That’s why I said no. Not because you were doing anything bad. Ok?”

His eyes dart around the floor. He doesn’t seem to be listening.

“Tell me you get it?” you say, shaking him, “You just didn’t hear me. Don’t fall into blaming yourself. It’s not your fault.”

You pull him down so he lies against your stomach, his wet pants sticking to his legs. He resists at first but then accedes, letting you hold him as you continue to whisper:

“Not your fault. It's Ok. Not your fault.”

You rock him gently, stroking his hair. After a few minutes of silence on his end, you think you’re finally getting through to him. Soon, he whispers:

“Can I…tell you about it?”

“Of course. I might not always know what to say, but I can listen.”

He doesn’t say anything for a long few minutes. You don’t prompt him. It’s like you can feel the whirring in the head beneath your fingers. Finally, he speaks.

“I liked it.”

“Ok.” You keep your voice neutral. He needs to lead this.

“After the first time, whenever she’d touch me, I’d get hard. Like my dick was Pavlov’s fucking dogs.”

He falls into silence as you flounder, out of your depth.

“That must have been-"

“-I feel like a fraud using the word ‘rape’ about it. Because…No, I didn’t like it, but I undressed myself and then I’d let her...and every time, I’d get hard and I’d come and it felt good.”

You stroke his head, massaging your fingers into his scalp. You hope your touch is enough to reassure him of your acceptance and empathy.

“My whole life I’ve been at the mercy of whatever my body wants. Eating cockroaches when the hunger got so bad it hurt, coming whenever The Handler told me I could, craving sugar and jerking off 24/7 when I was going through puberty- both times.

“Like your body keeps betraying you?”

“Exactly.”

“But that’s what bodies do, right?”

“Huh?”

You fucked up already trying to just listen and you’re too smashed to convey ideas eloquently.

“Never mind. I just mean, bodies are ph-physio-logical, right?" You're not sure the six-syllable word came out okay but he hangs on your words nevertheless.

"Bodies just react to stuff. Your dick got hard because that’s what dicks do. You got hungry because your body was trying to keep you alive. You wanted candy during puberty because all the hormones and jerking off and whatnot uses a lot of energy or...whatever.”

He turns his head, watching the candle flame flicker.

“I guess. I just hate being out of control of it.”

“But aren’t we all out of control of it?”

He doesn’t answer, lost in a memory.

“One time she was touching me," he brings his hands up to face in demonstration, one of his fingers parting his lips. “I told her I didn’t want to. But then she grabbed me through my pants. And she...felt how hard I was.”

He puts on a higher, silkier voice that sends a chill up your spine:

"Part of you wants it Number Five. It's not a big part, but a part nevertheless."

He’s clearly experiencing it again- flashing back in that really-real way that only someone who suffers as he does can. You ease his fingers away from his face, interlacing yours with his. You squeeze his fingers a little harder than would be comfortable; acting as a counter weight to keep his consciousness anchored in the present. It takes him a few moments to throw off the vision.

He takes a deep, deep breath, “I let her do it. And it felt good...and bad."

And then he laughs suddenly. His face twists into its most derisive lines. Directed at you, it would be enraging; directed at himself, it's heart-breaking:

"Ever wonder how I found out that I hate any more than one finger up my ass," the laughter intensifies, slightly hysterical, "who knew it could bleed for days, right?"

"Oh Five."

You blink away tears and he scoffs: clearly he doesn't believe he deserves your pity.

"I could have blinked away at any point, but I didn't. I was too..."

Halfway through the thought, the hot anger fades.

"And even now, sometimes when I think about it...I get hard.”

He whispers this last part, flushing deep with shame.

You wince in sympathy. You can’t let him explore this idea any more without comment lest he fall further into the well of self-blame. You try to keep the slight slur out of your voice.

"Would you say the same to me?”

“Huh?”

“So, say I’m holding a gun and a guy touches me: I say no but then he puts a hand down my panties and feels that I’m wet. If he fucks me without consent, would you say I let him do that if I didn’t shoot him? Even if I came from what he did to me?”

He rolls to look up at you. He seems to be really considering this.

“Killing someone is different from injuring them or blinking away.”

“Okay, fine. What about...Aoife."

"Don't."

Your voice trembles as you push back your own instinctive repulsion at invoking your baby's name in this context. Five holds out a hand in an instinctive warding-off gesture, eyes closed against the thought.

"She can blink. Or will when she's older-"

"Don't!"

"-in your position, would she be letting it happen if she didn’t blink away?”

“No!" he says, horrified, "of course not!”

“Then what makes you different? Because you're man?"

"No." he says, though by his tone you know it factored unconsciously into his thinking. He opens his eyes and takes a second before settling on another way to blame himself.

“I kept going back.”

“Ok. Why was that?”

“She was my boss. The Handler- that’s what it means. She handled the Temporal Assassins.” He laughs darkly, “I guess with me she took her title more literally.”

“Because she had power over you?”

“Yeah. I guess. I couldn’t not go back. Without the Commission it was back to cockroaches and freezing winters.”

You give him a small shrug and jerk of the head, face saying: Well, what could you do about it, then?

And, in his answering look, he takes the point.

You both take a few moments to collect yourselves. You think you've got through. You continue to stroke his hair, swirling dark locks between your fingers.

“Do you think it was just you?” you ask, finally.

His brow contracts in thought.

“I... guess so...I never thought about that.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if there were others. People who leverage positions of power in that way tend to make a habit of it."

He hems, so you push him ever so slightly.

“How does that idea make you feel?”

“I don’t know…” and then, with a return to his usual irony, “are you trying to therapize me?”

“Yes. $140 please,”

He laughs softly and you lean over to kiss his head.

“I think there’s more to say…but maybe that’s enough for tonight.”

You stroke his forelock out of his eyes.

“Bed?”

“Yeah.”

As you snuggle under the sweet-smelling sheets, you pretend not to notice his erection when you put your arm around his waist. You feel it even though he shifts away quickly.

It takes a long time for you to fall asleep but, once you do, he cries softly; biting down on his clenched fist to contain the sobs. He's glad his shaking breath and body doesn't wake you.

For this time of year in Dallas, it had turned out a fine day. November sunlight reflected off the bottles behind the bar, flashing occasionally as the bartender walked from one end to the other.

The Guinness was rich, fortifying. His chin rested on his closed fist and the briefcase sat at his feet, pressed tightly against the bar with his shins. Waiting was ninety percent of his role. Soon, it would be time for him to take his position, time to assemble the gun, time for the bewitching quiet before the storm.

He was nearly there; he could sense it. Decades of planning were nearly coming to fruition. He was missing…something…but he knew he was close; a single flash of inspiration and he’d know. He'd be able to do what his entire life has been leading up to: avert the apocalypse, save his family and go home.

He took out Vanya’s book and flicked to his latest lines of proof for the existence of a bound for the number of limit cycles. It seemed…okay…but the faint needling in the back of his mind wouldn’t fade.

He jumped as something was placed down in front of him with a thunk. The bartender stood on the other side, one hand still on the cannister. Five met his grim eye contact and gave a confirmatory nod; his master’s voice.

Resting his book face down and open on the bar, he unscrewed the tube and pulled out the scroll within:

All the hairs stood up on the back of his neck. She knew? How deep in his head was she? Shit, he couldn’t even think now without her knowing about it? He felt panic rise as he screwed the memo into a ball and thrust it into his pocket. The barman eyed him with a raised eyebrow. Did he know? Did all the Commission know? About his plans? …. Maybe even about what he kept letting her do to him?

He mentally shook himself. There was no use in thinking of it, not right then. Maybe not ever. To calm himself, he picked up his book again and read between his own scrawled equations, trying to relax. To focus.

‘Though prone to arrogance and outbursts, even more than the average preteen, Five was my sole confidante in the years before he disappeared. It almost seemed fitting that of all the siblings to leave us, it would him, who I fully trusted and who fully trusted me. Five wasn’t always one to comfort me but he was the least susceptible to Dad’s manipulations. He felt he could be more open with me as I didn’t have abilities like my other siblings, I was non-threatening.'

Sweet, quiet little Vanya. She was his sole confidante too. Who knew she was a simmering ball of rage, just like the rest of them?

…He hadn’t found her in the wreckage, in the brick dust that got into his lungs and developed into the hacking cough that still plagued him. Alone. So alone but for Dolores.

Wasted landscape, the smell of rotting corpses. Falling ash. Fires burning and burning and burning and burning and-

When he wakes up with one of his regular nightmares, he’s clammy with sweat. It’s one of the bad ones after which he takes a short time to remember where he is.

“We’re in France, Five. You’re safe.”

His breathing traps in his throat; barking there. He wipes his forearm over his face, scrubbing at ash he’s convinced is there.

“Family!”

“They’re safe. You saved them, remember?"

“Vanya!" he calls, fevered and unhearing, “Luther?”

“Viktor, Five. He’s fine. They’re all fine; you did it. Klaus just got some of his art into a gallery. Viktor’s still first chair. Remember we went to his concert last month? He played Mozart's violin concertos? Luther and Sloane are happy and-”

"Viktor..." the name begins to contextualize it for him- it brings him closer to the present, “...Aoife?”

“She’s safe. Can you remember who she's with?”

You hold his head to your chest and kiss his hairline.

“She’s…she’s…” his wide eyes dart wildly, as if searching the recesses of his mind for the recollection, “she’s with…Diego. Diego and Lila…and Santi.”

“That's it: she's back at home.”

You hold him as his breathing, though still hard, begins to sound less constricted.

“I miss her.” he manages.

“Me too sweetie.”

You help him slow and deepen his breathing with the counting exercise you always use. When he's breathing better, you sing him Dusty Springfield again. It helps.

Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed.) @dilfjohhny , @sunsunhe, @w4stedtr4sh, @nevbrooke-555, @theredvelvetbitch, @td-miley01, @five-hxrgreeves, @rorygi1more, @jamiebower88

Masterpost

Alternatively, join me on A03. Here is a link to the whole series

If you enjoyed, chuck me a comment or reblog. Likes are nice but they're not quite the same as interaction. xx

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shatteredvioletnuzlocke · 5 months ago

Text

Chapter 14: From Humble Winnings

The rest of the Olive Festival was spent tasting desserts, making crafts and catching up on Swords of Justice with their old friend. The day after was a moist but sunny morning in the countryside, the townsfolk's excitement simmered back a bit and their where less people crowding the streets.

The two took one last trip to the Pokémon center before Patch’s departure from Cortondo.

“What can I get for you?” The pharmacist offered.

Patch checked their wallet, they still had 5,000 p left from their win. I should stock up on some Pokeballs while I’m at it….

A bright blue Pokeball with red accents caught their eye. It was a great ball, twice as efficient for capturing Pokemon than a common one but twice as expensive.

I can pay for something that’s 600 p, they thought, just gotta go easy on the food and finish up what I already have.

“I’ll take four potions and one Great Ball please!” they requested.

“So where are you planning to go after this” Sage asked.

Patch answered with no thought, “Catch some more Pokemon then head back to the academy.”

“Oh I ment which gym your planning on taking on next?” Sage clarified.

Next gym?! “Sage, I’m not going to fight another gym. I only fought Katy to get out of debt. The gym badge was just a bonus.”

Patch was relieved they wouldn’t have to spend another day struggling to pay off the village. If they hadn’t known beforehand it meant fighting a gym leader they would’ve spent the next few months in Cortondo.

Taking on seven more gym leaders was a risky decision no matter how easy it was made out to be.

Patch remembered many of their childhood acquaintances returning from a journey empty-handed. Battling with Katy taught them to only bite off what they could chew.

“So what will you do as a trainer?” Sage wondered.

“Just raise and catch more Pokémon for now,” Patch admitted without much thought, “I’ll still take them out to battle in the wild. Maybe after I graduate I’ll go into breeding… or Pokemon husbandry? Freelance art on the side?”

Patch realized how much of their plan sounded improvised. They did have a plan…once but they couldn’t give themselves high expectations that they couldn’t reach. Twenty years old was still young, they had plenty of time to figure something out even if it seemed unfilling.

The pharmacist traded the items they asked for 1,500p. They were ready to put their issues aside and explore what lied ahead.

“Well if you need me, I’ll be here for the time being preparing for my battle with Katy!” Sage said with spunk, “Your match gave me some ideas for some new techniques.”

“Don’t forget me when you’re on the way to taking on the league!” Patch teased.

“Like I’d ever forget you!” Sage smiled back.

The two embraced in a tight hug that rivaled the warmth of the sun. Once they said their goodbyes, Patch saddled up Kapheria with their supplies and was off into the wild.

The outskirts of the Village were filled with meadows. Patch knew that there wouldn’t another town for miles even with Kapheria’s speed. The sepia mountains in the horizon where now closer than they were before.

Soon they made it to a slope that led to higher grounds. Do I really want to go up there? There might be rare Pokemon to find but it could be dangerous…

As they complimented a heavily loaded mountaineer walked by carrying a backload of equipment.

“Excuse me,” Patch alerted her, “Are the mountains ahead safe?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific!” the mountaineer laughed.

“Well, what are the native Pokémon like?” They added.

The traveler scratched her chin “I’d say… mildly harmless at best, territorial at worst. By the looks of it you seem like you can handle yourself. Just keep away from The Peak, most vicious ones live there.”

“Sounds easy enough,” Patch nodded, “Thank you.”

“No problem, you have a beautiful-looking dragon by the way.”

As the two travelers parted, Kapheria made her way up the slope. Although the ride up chunky with gravel, it began to churn Patch’s stomach. They could feel their breakfast rising.

“Stop Kapheria!” Patch urged her, feeling a little queasy.

They took a sip from their water bottle and poured it over their head to cleanse them of any sweat. A large stain from their shirt began to grow and their hair was soaked into clumped strands.

Taking a break, the admired the view from the slope, and saw the village from above. In the farther distance they could almost make out the walls of Mezagoza.

Looking toward the peaks, they noticed a tall point rising from the rocks. Keep away from the Peak, Patch told themselves.

As soon as Patch felt their stomach simmer, they took a good stretch “Let’s keep going Kapheria, we can hike the rest of the way.”

“Arggras!” She purred lively.

Placing a hand on Kapheria’s horn, the human and Pokemon made their way on foot, though it was already quite a tiring experience. Patch was not an athlete, and sweat kept rolling down their forehead like a waterfall.

They leaned against Kapheria’s metal shell without realizing how hot she was.

…

At the top of the slope Patch found the perfect place to sit down and recollect their energy. At that point they had gone through two bottles of water. Okay maybe the mountain wasn’t the best place to find a new Pokemon.

The ground beneath them was hard and stiff. Kapheria found it comfortable to curl up on. Patch needed to be wary of where they stepped, as some stones in the ground were loose and wobbly. Thankfully the rest of the way up had a wide enough path, if they wanted to proceed.

Is this karma? Patch wondered, if I chose to climb on a whim mountain how can I handle planning my own life choices? How do I know what is right? All I’m sure is that I want to be a trainer, and then what?

As Patch pondered, a noise caught them off guard.

“AWOOOO!”

They flinched out of their trance. Oh no, the sound of howling gave them frightening memories. Was it possible that Houndours resided on this mountain?

Leaping from rock to rock, a small brown dog stalked the human and dragon from above. Patch immediately knew the species, Rockruff. Although they were known to travel in packs, this one was alone. But he wasn’t going to play nice and he was only nearing closer.

“Ruck, roo!” it barked trying to gain intimidation,

Patch reached their bag and instinctively threw the first Pokeball they felt. Out of all of their team, the stubborn Kombucha was brought out to defend them.

“Of course…” Patch sighed, feeling used to their bad luck.

Familiar with the terrain, the unwavering Rockruff initiated the first attack, “Rock, roooo!” his howling commanded small stones to pelt the intruders.

“Woink!” A single stone out of the fray had struck Kombucha on the nose.

“Ooohh!” Patch cringed in sympathy for their Lechonk. “Kombucha!” they called out to him, “Try using Mud slap!”

To their surprise, the Lechonk began kicking away at the dirt. Throwing globs of mud back at the little dog. With some precision, some mud splattered on the Rockruff’s eye.

This is good maybe I can catch him! Patch rejoiced at the thought of adding a dog Pokemon to their team. Should I catch him now? No… he’s still too riled. Just one more attack!

Despite having an eyeful of mud, the Rockruff called for another flurry of stones, “AWRROOO!” his temper caused larger ones to be tossed out.

With a little more preparation Kombucha bounced back one of the stones with his body fat.

Alright, what’s our next move? Tackle? If Kombucha could easily deflect that rock now, what would happen if he threw himself into a Rockruff? Would he only fall off the mountain? Patch tried hard to parish their harmful thoughts, and focus on the task at hand.

Unfortunately, while they were thinking Kombucha went ahead without command, charging into the little Rockruff with full force.

“KOMBUCHA NO!”

Patch launched the great ball in a hurry to save the poor Rockruff. The pokeball opened and the little dog carried away into its red light. As it fell to the ground it shook furiously, as if the Rockruff was fighting the capture.

The anxious trainer wondered if a great ball’s capture rate was as true as they were promised. Horrible memories of the Inlet Grotto incident kept spiraling out of proportion.

At last, the great ball clicked and it stood still on top of the crumbled rocks.

It worked…

Though their was a new team member right before them, Patch couldn’t keep their frustration at bay.

“KOMBUCHA!” they scolded, crouching down to meet their level, “You’re not supposed to attack until I say so!”

Immediately Kombucha kicked some mud in their face.

“Bleh! Time out for you!” Patch recalled the Lechonk back into their ball.

Patch wiped the mud off their cheek, the wet muk staining their hand. They tried to shake as little grime as possible before picking up they’re newly captured teammate.

They held the great ball in awe of who was inside, At least I know I’m good at capturing Pokemon. That’s a good sign. I never thought I’d be able to catch a Rockruff though, I hope it likes me…

“Kapheria!” Patch wailed with unease.

“Arg?” Kapheria jolted awake.

Kapheria will protect me, they tried to promise themselves, she’s big and strong!

Reaching their fingertips to touch Kapheria’s neck for reassurance, Patch finally opened the great ball. It’s red light materialized the dog back into the open world.

Upon closer inspection, the little puppy had a warm, beige coat with a cream-colored ruff of fur around his neck. He had unique eyebrow-like markings that made him appear as if he was always furious.

He opened his icy blue eyes and looked upon his new trainer.

“H-hello?” Patch held out their left hand, as they didn’t want to let go of Kapheria, “I’m your… trainer now.”

The curious Rockruff leaned out and sniffed the human’s hand. Calmly he sat down, his tail completely still.

Is he just as scared as I am? They leaned in closer and let their hand touch his fur. It was surprisingly silky for a dog who lived in the dusty mountains. He must be pretty young, still a puppy.

Patch curled their fingers back and forth, pressing gently into his pelt. His cream, bushy tail shook the more the human scratched his head, then his ears and then under his chin.

“Rerrr,” the Rockruff whined softly. He pushed his paws onto his trainer, “Ruff!” his tail wagging infectiously.

He licked Patch with approval, “Gross, I still have mud on my face!”, they laughed

Their Rockruff was the perfect addition to their team, and Patch knew just what to call them. Venture.

…

As the sun bent to the west, Patch found a spot far away from the edge to have a picnic with their team. As per usual Tamarind was lying around, Flumpy played with Kapheria, and Arturo nudged his yarn ball around.

Venture on the other hand was still getting to know his new team. He still saw Kombucha as his enemy and chased him around any opportunity he got.

“Venture!” Patch called to him, “Come here and leave Kombucha alone!”

“Ruff!” He romped over to his trainer.

Patch sliced a piece of smoked fillet and let Venture lick it out of their hand. Slobber dripped from his soft tongue.

Rockruffs evolve into Lycanrocs. I could have a Lycanroc like Nemona. I wonder how long that would take…

Suddenly Patch’s Roto phone flew out of their pocket, and rang abruptly.

In Coming call: Mom

Mom?! What could she want at this time… shouldn’t it be late for her. Knowing how demandingly fretful their mom could be, they answered her call.

“PATCH CALLUNE WHERE ON EARTH ARE YOU?!” Their mother blaired through their phone speaker, “THAT DOESN’T LOOK LIKE SCHOOL! YOUR FATHER AND I-”

“MA RELAX! I’M ALLOWED TO BE HERE!” Patch wined, “The school is letting us do an independent study! I’m fine!”

She furrowed her brow, “Oh really? What kind?!”

Their body felt as if they were shrinking, “We get to explore the region to become better trainers.”

Vivelli fixed her dark, rose-magenta hair. She was always so neat and formal about everything.

“We never had that at my trainer school,” she lectured her child, “We stayed right on campus!”

“Mom…” Patch rolled their eyes, “If this wasn’t allowed I wouldn’t be doing it.” We’re both too old to be talking like this…

“So why are you in the mountains of all places?!” Vivelli berated them.

For Arceus' sake, she still has that fucking child tracker on me.

“I’m just making a pitstop!” They explained, “Oh you’re never going to believe this! But Sage is here! You know my friend from Icirrus? He goes to a different school near here! We decided to catch up in the Cortondo Village nearby.”

It sounded like a lie but it was the truth. Even Patch couldn’t believe that their closest friend traveled to the same region. Lucky for them, Vivelli could always sense if someone ever truly lied.

“So what did you both do, there?” she asked.

Patch started to panic in the deep confines of their mind, Do I really tell her about the whole thing with my debt…

…

“SO YOU PAYED OFF THE WHOLE THING WITHOUT TELLING US! WHAT WE’RE YOU THINKING?!”

“You’re the one telling me to act like an adult all the time!” Patch excused, “Paying off debt independently is life skill right?!”

“We would’ve helped you!” Vivelli responded trying to have a mature upper hand.

You would’ve let me live it down either, I’m being responsible why can’t you see that?

“Mom, what matters is that it’s been paid off, it’s over, I’m out of the woods!” They retorted for no further screaming. Now do I tell her about the gym badge?

Kapheria padded over to give Patch a quick face nuzzle, “Arrrrgggg!”

“ARCEUS WHAT IS THAT?!” Vivelli hollared her voice so loud Kapheria scampered away.

Crap, I thought I sent her a picture of Kapheria?! “Mom, MOM, ITS OKAY! That’s the Pokémon I’m watching… for a friend…” Does a classmate's father count as a friend?

The worried Mother exhaled her tension upon seeing the strange metal dragon, “The Pokemon… that destroyed the orchard…”

“Kapheria didn’t mean to destroy it…” Patch admitted.

“Where is it’s actual trainer?!” Vivelli interrogated, “Why would you agree to look after something when, you haven’t had a week to get to look after your own Pokémon?! They could’ve scammed you, Patch!”

“Look, I don't know where he is!” Patch was desperate to avoid any more questions, “He gave me his number, I’m doing my best to contact him.”

“Well if you ask me, you shouldn’t be looking after a stranger's Pokémon, especially when it got you into debt!”

Oh great we’re on the debt again.

Patch looked back at Kapheria, Could Mom be right though… I mean Kapheria seems great and all, but I barely know what to do with her half the time when something is wrong. Saying everything will be okay could lose its meaning after a while…

“Look it’s getting late, and I have to be at the Museum Library at seven in the morning,” Vivelli yawned, “We’ll talk again when I get a day off. If you’re old enough to pay off a debt then I can expect you to sort this whole Kelia thing yourself!”

“You mean, Kapheria?” They corrected her.

“Patch, I’m tired!” She huffed, “I love you, Goodnight!”

As Vivelli hung up Patch saw that they’re call with her lasted for almost a half hour. They weren’t the least surprised.

“Kapheria!” They called the dragon over with warmth in their voice, “It’s okay the scary lady is gone now!”

The metallic dragon was all curled up by Flumpfy, using him as a hiding spot.

Patch tried checking their phone for any missed messages from Turo.

Yep he totally ghosted me. I don’t think calling him again will help. That Arven guy would probably know how to reach him… if he isn’t still mad at me.

The trainer rummaged through their supplies to properly set up their picnic. As they buried their hand the bag a shiny piece of metal fell onto the gravel.

Oh the Nectar Badge… should I really keep this thing?

Patch held it against the daylight. The sun’s glow highlighted the golden accents of the badge.

I’m glad I kept this from Mom.

“Oh Patch,” they mimicked Vivelli’s passive aggressiveness, “Aren’t you a little old to be chasing childhood fantasies?”

“Pft!” Patch sneared.

They slide the finger into the grooves of the badge’s design. A gym badge was a trainer’s Medal of Honor; did Patch want more? Did they deserve more? The rest of Paldea’s gym leaders would be twice as skilled as Katy.

If they were able to get seven more badges, what would be next? Challenging the Region’s elite four, did they have to battle a champion after that?! Would they be forced to battle Nemona?!

After a spiraling forecast, they knew the best thing they had control of was themself.

But then Patch remembered how accomplished they felt when they battled Katy. For once they felt a different yet familiar sense of purpose.

If I wanted to battle in the league since I was a kid, and it feels right to me now. Maybe I did have a plan for myself that I just looked over…

Patch tucked the Nectar Badge away safely into their pencil case. Even though it seems impossible, maybe collecting the next seven gym badges is a good place to start.

As Patch felt fulfilled with a new goal, they were late to notice two white bird pokemon feeding off their supplies.

“HEY!” They shouted to shoo them off.

“Bur Bur!” They cawed scooping rations into a pouch.

Venture sprang into his quick tempered disposition, howling for stones to strike them down.

Both of them flew off with the breeze of the wind, and Patch was left with half of their rations.

“Ruff! Ruck! Ruff,” Venture barked into the sky.

Crap I paid good money for those!

“Okay!” Patch clapped their hands in frustration, “I’ve had just about enough of this place!” If I’m really going to take on the league I better find my next gym.

They whipped out they’re rotophone, and shrunk down their phone map to find their next stop. Alfornada is closest. But they have a psychic type gym and they’re too strong for me… Casafarrafa… I’ll have to cut through dessert and that be a pricy flying taxi ride. Plus water types don’t seem like a good idea

Come on, Patch focus! Trust your decision! They scrubbed to the right side of the map, Artazon… they have a grass type gym! Yes that should work! Oh but that’s still going to be excessive if I go by flying taxi… Patch reviewed the outer reaches of the town… I’ll just cut through that canyon…

…

Patch had been on plenty of airplane rides, to get used to to flying above air. But when you were being flown by hundreds of Squawbilly it felt a bit wobblier.

“Preparing for landing!” The pilot declared raising the goggles from there crinkled face.

They could feel the taxi carrier clumsily decend, beneath the lumpy leather seat. They had to give it to the Squawkabilly for flying so in sync with each other. If one was late on a wingbeat the whole carrier could fall.

“Alright,” the pilot opened the door, “That’ll be 2,000p!”

Gotta be extra careful this time, Patch thought handing him the money.

Patch stepped out into the dusty ground. Walls of red sandstone stood proudly along the area. Small bushes and sprigs grew out of the rock, like cacti in a desert.

There were some wild Pawmis that nearly blended into the dust if not for their yellow cheeks. Patch wasn’t sure if they wanted to catch one since they already had an electric type of their own.

Not too far away they noticed a wooden picnic bench garnished with a purple Uva Academy blanket. A man dressed in academy attire sat down enjoying a sandwich.

“Aola,” he greeted clearing his throat. He patted his face clean with a napkin, “You off to Artazon?”

“I am,” Patch answered, “were you just there?”

“I tried… but the Pokémon around here are… feisty,” he shrugged sounding remorseful.

Beneath the table, Patch noticed that the student's leg was poorly wrapped up in cloth with a sloppy knot. It was stained with dried red.

You just spent most of your money on a taxi ride over here you can’t just go back. You have a mother to prove wrong, they wrestled their fears.

“You couldn’t afford a flying taxi to Artazon either?” Patch assumed.

“You kidding?” he chuckled, “I make less working at the school store! Whoever heard of 10,000p for one ride?!”

“Ah…” they sighed, “But this Province can’t be that dangerous if you're still here?” Patch clarified to shrink their instincts.

The old student nodded back, “As long as you watch for Pokémon in big groups. They’ll gang up on you like crazy!” He placed his napkin down, “If you ask me this place makes up for it in valuable materials.”

“Good to know…” Patch pondered, Maybe if I find some cool looking rocks that I could sell for taxi fair.

“Here,” the student handed them a Deli Cioso bag, “You can’t go through the canyon on an empty stomach.”

“For me?” Patch pointed to themselves, “Oh no I couldn’t!”

“Nah it’s really okay…” he whisked his hand, “I found out I hate herbed Sausage, I’d hate it more to go to waste.” Well I needed some extra food anyway, they thanked their classmate and made their way through the treacherous canyon.

#pokemon #fanfic #pokemon violet #pokemon fanfiction #paldea #nuzlocke #miradon #crocalor #shroodle #lechonk #rockruff #mareep #bombirdier #squawkabilly

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whitchygaythem · 2 years ago

Text

Dont eat ur gf stupid

Aisha tapped her foot in excitement as she drove her old pick up truck down the dusty dirt road. Bubbly pop music blared out of open windows and warm winds whipped her fluffy pink afro around her head. The sun had begun to set, casting the countryside in a hazy golden glow. Aisha looked over her shoulder as the song ended and the ads started, checking if she had everything she needed. Blankets? Check. The last of her closet? Check. Her backpack sat in the passenger seat next to her and the greasy, fragrant smell of lots of cheap Chinese food spilled out of the plastic bags in the back of the car. She had everything. Another ad started, just as the road turned and widened into a circular driveway in front of a well kept blue farmhouse. It stood out against the dusty green grass covering the land around it. Once she parked, Aisha jumped out of the truck, almost leaving her bags in the bed of the truck. She ran up to the porch, fumbling around for her keys in the pockets of her skirt, finally unlocking the door and pushing it open.

"Hey Louise! I'm here!"

Aisha rolled her bag into the living room and sank onto the couch. She heard creaking steps and she looked over at the woman walking downstairs. Aisha hopped up and ran towards Louise, nearly leaping into her arms and wrapping her in a hug, though Aisha could only reach Louise's chest, since she was a good two feet taller than her. Louise looked startled but hugged Aisha back.

"I thought you were coming tomorrow?" Aisha peeled away from the hug to look up at Louise's face.

"I finished packing early! I wanted to move in as soon as I could." She stood on her tip toes and gently guided Louise's face down to meet her own, kissing her softly. "Do you want me to leave and come back tomorrow?" Louise shook her head, avoiding Aisha's gaze as her face flushed pink.

"No… I missed you. So much." Louise scooped Aisha up in her arms, holding her close in a bridal carry. "It's just… I'm, um sick?..." She tucked her face in Aisha's hair, holding her tight, as if she would ever try to leave. Aisha felt her forehead. She was hot. Like really hot.

"It must be bad, are you sure you want me to stay?"

Louise tightened her grip around Aisha's body. "I'll be fine, please just stay here."

"Of course Lou." Aisha kissed her forehead, smiling as she felt Louise's face flush with heat.

Louise straightened, standing to her full height, dwarfing the woman in her arms. Aisha giggled and yelled as Louise rushed her up the stairs.

"Wait wait wait, don't forget the takeout!"

Once upstairs in their bedroom, Aisha had set out the food and turned on the tv, sitting in the middle of the bed. Louise was sitting at the head of the bed. She had just barely let Aisha go, acting as if it might hurt her to have Aisha leave her arms. Louise had started tearing into her food as soon as Aisha was out of biting range, wolfing down her food like a starving predator. She worked her way through her fried rice, lo mein, dumplings and, after some sad looks and a hungry growl from her stomach, the rest of Aisha's pork wraps. Aisha watched her eat it all, wondering how she could still be eating. Eventually she did finish, and immediately tried to grab Aisha to cuddle.

"Please?" Louise pleaded as Aisha gathered the trash off the bed.

"I'm coming back Lou! I just gotta throw this out." She half climbed back onto the bed to give Louise a peck on the cheek.

"Can't you just leave it out in the hall?" Louise looked at her with a begging look in her eyes. "I promise I'll get it later." Aisha sighed and smiled.

"Alright babe." She dropped the greasy bag outside the doorway and plopped down on the bed. "And I assume you want to be big spoon?" Louise nodded. Aisha laid down on the bed, and Louise held her close. She wrapped one arm around Aisha's stomach and the other around her chest and one of her arms, rendering her mostly immobile. "I might take a nap ok Louise?" Aisha looked up to kiss Louise's chin. She didn't respond, only snuggling closer to her. Surrounded by warmth, Aisha began to drift off.

She woke to a heavy, almost painful pressure over her chest. Louise was asleep, breathing in quick, shallow gasps as she tightened her grip on Aisha's arm, hard enough to leave a bruise.

"Hey Lou?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you, uh, loosen up? I think you're about to crush me."

Louise jumped away from Aisha, hands up and eyes scanning for injuries. Her gaze landed on Aisha's arm.

"Shit, sorry I'm so sorry!" She backed away, looking horrified. She had gotten dark circles under her eyes, and her face looked thinner. How could it have done that? Louise had just eaten a meal for three people, how could she look like she was starving?

"Hey, hey Louise," Aisha grabbed Louise's hands and pulled her back to sit on the bed. "I'm alright. You didn't hurt me. But I need you to tell me what's wrong." Louise looked down at her, eyes filling with tears.

"I'm just so hungry Aisha!" Louise choked out. "It hurts and I feel empty and food can't fix it!" Aisha reached towards Louise, climbing onto the bed to wrap Louise in a hug.

"I'm so sorry love. I had no idea. How can I help?" I could go out to get something else for you?"

Louise shook her head.

"Actually, could I just… kiss you? Please?"

Aisha smiled up at Louise. "Of course."

Louise slammed down, crashing her lips into Aisha's, holding her face in both hands. She was voracious, barely stopping to let Aisha breathe. When she did, it was to press kisses all over her face. She lingered over Aisha's neck, and Aisha felt long teeth against her skin. Then Louise looked back at her, and Aisha saw something in her eyes. Something distinctly… inhuman. Louise held Aisha's face tight.

"Close your eyes."

She did. But she peeked.

Louise's jaw had stretched wide, and every one of her dozens of teeth were sharp, especially her canines. Louise had always been big, but now, when she was looming over her with a primal hunger in her eyes, Aisha became very aware of just how small she was. Louise glanced down and their eyes met for a second. Then she began eating.

Louise's clawed hands kept Aisha's arms in place at her side, while she kept Aisha's head stuck in her maw. Aisha screamed and tried to kick away from Louise, but was squeezed into her throat when she swallowed. Louise never stopped swallowing after, gulping Aisha down as if she was the first thing she had eaten in months. She felt more pressure around her shoulders, then on her chest. Aisha felt a sharp pain just below her shoulder blade, then screamed out as it dragged down her back. Aisha thought her vision would go dark. Well, it was already dark. There doesn't tend to be much light inside someone's esophagus. Aisha felt herself slipping down much faster as Louise stood up and tilted her head back. Aisha felt the tight grip of Louise's throat loosen, as her head was pushed into her stomach. Her shoulders and arms followed, and after a few more resounding gulps, Aisha was sealed inside Louise's stomach.

Shifting slimy walls ground at Aisha's body. She was surrounded by darkness and gurgling noises.

"LOUISE LET ME OUT!" Aisha screamed. "LET ME OUT GODDAMNIT!" She kicked one of the walls surrounding her. She heard a groan of pain, somehow coming from everywhere. Aisha kept kicking as best she could with her legs being pressed up to her chest, forcing her into a fetal position. She felt a bit lightheaded. Despite being surrounded by warmth, she was hyper aware of the warmth seeping into her shirt from her cut back. "Please Lou, let me out…"

—---

Aisha woke up on top of the bed, a torn sheet covering her. She groaned. Her head felt fuzzy. What had happened? Then it hit her.

The spit.

The teeth

The blood.

The hunger.

Her heart beat faster as she began to panic. But that couldn't have happened? People can't just.. swallow each other like that. It was just a nightmare. A horrible nightmare. And-and it was such a bad nightmare, she ripped the sheet while she was asleep! Yeah, that sounds right.

Aisha stretched, reaching her arms toward the ceiling, when a line of pain shot down her back.

"AGH, Shit!" She twisted to touch her back, wincing as the tear along her back burned with fresh pain. So last night did really happen… Louise actually… ate her. "Oh holy shit… holy shiiit" Her girlfriend had eaten her. Swallowed her. Louise wasn't… human. Aisha wasn't sure what she was.

Aisha changed out of her torn, blood stained t-shirt and showered. By the time she had walked downstairs to get some coffee, she had forgotten about Louise. That is, until she saw her sitting at the kitchen table. Louise looked up. She smiled weakly. Aisha noticed that her fangs were on display.

"Um, hi Aisha… sorry about, um, yesterday"

"What the hell happened to you? What… What are you Louise?"

Louise sighed.

"That's a bit of a long story. You might wanna sit down."

#safe vore #halfsize vore #angsty vore #possessive vore #lesbian vore #female pred #female prey #wlw vore #f/f vore #non fatal vore #unwilling prey #unwilling vore #holy shit this took so long

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tameodesza · 2 years ago

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Househusband AU: Headcanon 3

masterlist

a/n: I swear I have drafts written that are unrelated to househusbands AU, but I can’t get this AU out of my head 😭. Hopefully, I can get back to writing prompts soon, but here’s some more HCs (got carried away with writing, so it’s longer than I intended…oh well!)

Who’s the most romantic?

💍 Bret, most definitely. He usually goes the extra mile to show Shawn how much he cares about him. He’s really good at planning date nights and remembering the little things, often gifting Shawn sentimental and thoughtful gifts relating to something Shawn may have mentioned to him prior

💍 Bret sometimes surprises Shawn with secret outings, nothing too extravagant. It’s typically something as simple as driving to the countryside, walking hand in hand along a trail as they talk about whatever’s on their mind, simply enjoying each other’s presence

💍 Shawn swears the number of times his heart melts has to be at least three times a day

💍 Shawn’s favorite moment has to be when Bret took care of him when he was ill one week

“Shawn, wake up. Babe, you’ve gotta eat”

“Come on, let’s get up and brush your teeth”

“Let’s put on some clothes so I can take you to the doctor, ok?”

💍 It was sweet more than romantic, but it warmed Shawn’s heart every time Bret doted on him

💍 Bret thinks Shawn’s pretty romantic as well, though Shawn would beg to differ. It’s not in the traditional sense of candle-lit dinners or chocolate and roses for Valentines Day. But it was in Shawn’s way – learning how to cook Bret’s favorite childhood meal, making a bracelet for Bret from scratch, and attempting to draw a portrait of Bret for Valentines Day (and failing miserably)

💍Bret appreciates anything Shawn does for him

Who’s more emotional?

💍 Shawn, and he knows it. He has no shame about it. He’s pretty sure it stems from him being the baby of the family (and he may or may not have been spoiled by his mom as a child)

💍 Bret’s childhood was pretty rough compared to Shawn’s. Being raised in a house with 11 siblings oftentimes felt like a warzone. It also didn’t help that his dad had a bad temper and was really tough on the boys

💍 Bret had learned at a young age that it was best to keep his thoughts and emotions to himself, especially when a few of his siblings would make fun of him for crying. Or the time one of his siblings told his dad something Bret had told them in confidence, with the goal of getting him in trouble

💍 So he was kind of taught to hide his emotions

💍 Shawn’s seen Bret cry only a handful of times, but Bret’s gotten better at expressing his emotions to Shawn. Shawn always makes it a point to ask Bret how he feels about things, whether it’s a tough decision or something as simple as Bret’s thoughts on a movie they’d watched. He wants Bret to know his feelings, opinions, and emotions are valid and that he would always be there to listen

What facial features do they like the most?

💍 Easily for Bret, it’s Shawn’s blue eyes. They were just too pretty not to gawk at

💍 For Shawn, it’s Bret’s eyes as well. People always talk about Shawn’s eyes, but Shawn often finds himself getting lost in Bret’s hazel eyes

💍 Shawn also loves Bret’s smile. He loves that he’s one of few people Bret genuinely smiles for, and it showcases those adorable dimples. Bret has to reiterate to Shawn that he in fact does not have dimples, just deep smile lines. But Shawn’s convinced that it’s dimples and nothing’s changing his mind

What are their friendship dynamics?

💍 Shawn’s the closest with Hunter, of course. He considers him as his brother more than a friend. Hunter’s family accepted long ago that Shawn was part of their family. And the same goes for Shawn’s family to Hunter. Shawn has no idea where he’d be without Hunter in his life

💍 Aside from Hunter, Shawn’s closest friend is Kevin, much to Bret’s dismay. Neither man could explain it, but they just got along so well. There was never a dull or awkward moment between the two despite the fact that they had a brief fling when they first met

💍 Kevin does still find Shawn attractive, though. Who wouldn’t? And if Shawn were to come onto him one day, he’s not confident he’d exactly tell him to stop. Not that he wants that to happen though, contrary to Bret’s belief. Despite Bret’s tension with Shawn’s friends, everyone in the kliq hopes things work out between Shawn and Bret because they know Shawn would be devastated otherwise, and they’d be left to clean up the mess

💍 After getting to know Goldust, Shawn considers him a close friend of his. He loves whenever Goldust makes the trip to Calgary to keep him company. The two also hang out backstage whenever they’re on the road at the same time with their significant others. It feels nice to talk to someone else who could relate to being a husband, married to a wrestler, and living such a crazy lifestyle. Plus, Goldust always has great gossip to share

💍 Bret’s relationship with Shawn’s friend group is complicated. He doesn’t have a problem with Sean. He actually finds his company quite enjoyable. Hunter? He was forced to tolerate. And Kevin and Scott? He’d rather not be anywhere near them. He’s met a few of Shawn’s hometown friends, and they were more a lot more pleasant to be around

💍 Out of all of Bret’s friends, Shawn gets along with Steve Austin the most. They met backstage one night at a house show. Shawn was bored with no one to talk to – Hunter wasn’t on the program that night and Bret was busy most of the night. Shawn had been getting antsy, ready to go back to the hotel with Bret. He was pacing the hallway backstage when he bumped into Steve, desperately asking “hey, do you know where I can find a beer around here? Budweiser?” to which Steve responded with a grin “no, but I know where you can get a Steveweiser” and the rest was history. While waiting for Bret, Shawn hung out in Steve’s locker room. The two quickly clicked, both relating to being beer-loving southern Texans with attitude

💍 Bret found the pair odd at first, caught off guard one day when Shawn entered his locker room saying “Hey, I’m going to go hang out with Steve tonight. Wanna come?” Shawn usually did leave Bret at night to hang out with the kliq, but not Bret’s own friends. He didn’t join Shawn that night, but when one night turned to two nights, which turned to the Texans hanging out that whole week, Bret had to see what the hype was about

💍 He joined them one night, and it wasn’t much. The night consisted of the blond in Steve’s room, drinking beer, playing cards, talking about whatever, but Bret could barely keep up with the conversation. It seemed like Shawn’s southern drawl deepened around Steve, and their Texas lingo left Bret feeling like they were speaking a different language

💍 As odd as he found it, he was relieved that Shawn found someone to hang with that wasn’t the kliq. Although Bret was weary of the drinking, Steve was a whole lot better of company and more responsible than Shawn’s friends. He trusted that the man would look after Shawn

How well do they get along with each other?

💍 Their relationship is pretty healthy. Bret considers Shawn as his best friend and Shawn the same (aside from Hunter, of course). There are no secrets between them. They tell each other everything, even if it hurts the other person. They both agreed early on in their relationship that its best to be honest and upfront with each other

💍 They don’t fight often. It’s more of light bickering or small disagreements between them, but it’s not usually anything that’ll cause alarm. There were a few times Shawn picked fights with Bret in the early stages of their marriage when Bret was away on the road, especially when Bret didn’t call him. Shawn was still getting adjusted to being a househusband and not having Bret around, so his decisions weren’t the wisest around that time. But he’s grown from that, especially as their trust in each other built over the years

💍 They have really great communication with each other. Unless Shawn’s really pissed, in which case Bret knows he must have really fucked up because Shawn gets really quiet when he’s upset. Bret would rather have the man yelling at him than ignoring him, not knowing what Shawn’s thinking

💍 Both have their flaws but they both equally put in the effort to make their marriage work

How well do they get along with each other��s family?

💍 It took some time for Shawn’s family to come around to Bret. Shawn’s mom and sister loved him instantly. It was hard not to with how charming, polite, and sweet Bret was.

💍 Shawn’s brothers were a little skeptical at first (who’s this guy wooing our little brother?) but they were still welcoming. Shawn’s dad, on the other hand, was the wild card. He was very weary of Bret, wondering how someone who’s on the road all year could have a successful and faithful relationship with his son. To him, actions spoke louder than words, so he kept a watchful eye on the two. It took a few years and a few awkward family dinners, but Shawn’s dad did eventually accept Bret into the family

💍 Bret’s family was a bit more welcoming of Shawn. Shawn didn’t know what to expect when meeting the Harts, but Bret’s parents were so kind to him. Shawn’s very close to Bret’s parents. With his own parents being so far away in Texas, Helen and Stu were his home away from home. He calls Helen ‘mama Hart’ and Stu ‘papa Hart.’ It was originally ‘daddy Hart, but Bret expressed to Shawn how uncomfortable it was for him to hear Shawn call his dad ‘daddy’. Shawn’s undoubtedly their favorite son-in-law

💍 Shawn was loved by most of Bret’s siblings, which is already an accomplishment within itself. And of course Shawn’s favorite Hart sibling is Owen who loved Shawn almost as much as Bret. However, with there being so many siblings, there was bound to be a few Shawn wasn’t too fond of. Bruce and Elizabeth were the main ones that came to mind

💍 Shawn had a verbal spat with Elizabeth once, the blond man taking up for Bret when Elizabeth started throwing low blows Bret’s way in an argument, such as discrediting his wrestling ability or commenting on how she didn’t see what Shawn saw in Bret. Bret had to hide the proud smile on his face at how Shawn didn’t back down and wasn’t afraid to go toe-to-toe with her

💍 However, that was nothing compared to Shawn’s issue with Bruce who’d called Shawn a gold digger at a family dinner. It became a whole thing: Shawn freezing at the word, truly shocked that he would be accused of that, Bret taking up for Shawn, Bret and Bruce almost getting into a fist fight, Shawn having to hold Bret back and guide him outside towards their car, Bret threatening to never come around again if that’s how they’re going to treat Shawn. Bret’s parents begged them to stay, but the night was already ruined, and Bret just wanted to get Shawn away from the situation

💍 Family gatherings are still a little awkward, but there’s not nearly as much tension now that years have gone by since the incident

💍 Shawn’s saving grace has been his close relationship with the other in-laws: Jim, Davey, and Martha. He felt like they had their own support group, there for each other when the Hart family got wild

Thoughts on kids?

💍 Shawn’s really great with kids, but they’ve both agreed that they don’t desire to have children of their own. They have plenty enough nieces and nephews to keep them busy

💍 After getting married, they felt the pressure from Bret’s family. They were constantly getting asked about their thoughts on adoption or if they considered getting a surrogate. It even got to the point of Bret’s mom saying she knew a girl who’d carry their baby….weird

💍 Everyone eventually backed off once it was evident that the couple wasn’t going to budge. They were perfectly happy just having each other

💍 Besides, tending to their flower garden and watching their flowers grow was like raising kids in Shawn’s opinion

Any tattoos/piercings?

💍 Shawn has two lobe piercings in his left ear and one on his right. And he also has a belly button piercing (both his and Bret’s favorite)

💍 Shawn has multiple tattoos including: the state of Texas on his calf, a Canadian leaf on his thigh, a heart with a dagger on his arm, a wedding band with the letter B in the middle on his ring finger, and Bret’s favorite, a heart on his ass cheek

💍 His most recent tattoo was the one he got on their first-year wedding anniversary. It was a tattoo on his rib of Bret’s name in cursive with the hitman logo to the right of it. Hunter argued up and down with Shawn to not get someone’s name tatted on him. It’s the cardinal rule! But Shawn didn’t care. He loved this man and had no doubts they’d be together forever

💍 A little-known fact is that Bret’s afraid of needles, which is one of the reasons why he went the longest time without having any tattoos or piercings. He did eventually get a matching tattoo with Shawn, getting the same wedding band tattoo on his ring finger, but with an S in the middle instead

💍 Shawn held Bret’s other hand the whole time, allowing Bret to squeeze his hand whenever the pain became too much. Bret’s love for Shawn grew tenfold that day

Any pet peeves?

💍 Shawn hates when Bret doesn’t tell him ahead of time that they have guests coming over. Shawn usually walks around the house with as little clothes as possible, whether it’s him walking around shirtless or wearing a silk robe with nothing underneath. Bret was lectured by Shawn to give him ample warning after a particularly embarrassing moment when Owen and Martha showed up unannounced, rounding the corner into the living room to see Shawn only wearing his favorite booty shorts, which were so tight they left nothing to the imagination

💍 Shawn calls Bret ‘Bretford’ or ‘Sergeant’ when being a smart ass. Bretford’s not even his real name, but Bret finds it entertaining when Shawn says it. However, he does not find being called Sergeant entertaining. Shawn usually says it when he’s pissed or feels like Bret’s bossing him around, insinuating that Bret’s treating him like a drill sergeant. Whenever he tells Shawn to stop, Shawn just innocently says “What? It’s your name, right?” and that always grinds his gears

💍 Bret also hates when Shawn walks away from arguments. It’s not like Shawn’s one to run from an argument. Lord knows he’s argued with Hunter more than enough. But he knows how he gets when he’s heated. When it comes to Bret, he doesn’t want to say something he’ll regret

Insecurities?

💍 For both of them, age is an insecurity, but for different reasons. For Shawn, he wonders if he’s mature enough to be with Bret. Although he’s definitely grown as a person since being married, he still has issues with his attitude. His patience isn’t as great as Bret’s, sometimes leading to him snapping at the man. His biggest fear is Bret getting fed up with him one day and leaving

💍 For Bret, sometimes his mind drifts to if Shawn finds him boring, if he’d be happier with someone his own age. Shawn’s friends are pretty wild and Bret’s nothing like them. But Shawn promptly reminds him that there’s nothing out there better for him. “I’ve dated men my own age, Bret. And look where it led me…to you”

💍 Bret’s sexuality has also caused self-doubt in Shawn. While Shawn’s strictly dickly, Bret identifies as bisexual. Shawn sometimes wonders if Bret would ever chase after the traditional life and leave him for a woman. It was silly, really. But when he’s left all alone in an empty mansion for months at a time, it’s easy for his thoughts to run wild. Bret eases Shawn when he tells him that if the traditional life doesn’t include him, then he doesn’t want it

💍 Money has also been a topic of discussion. Shawn isn’t a materialistic person, but Bret introduced him to the finer things of life (expensive watches, necklaces, earrings, rings, etc.). He appreciates it, but he wants to be able to do the same for Bret. The couple shares a bank account, but it’s mostly Bret’s money. Bret tells Shawn he can buy whatever he wants with it. “What’s mine is yours.” But Shawn still wrestles with the fact that he’s not contributing financially to the marriage

💍 In the beginning stages of dating, Shawn was insecure about his body hair. He’d never been self-conscious about it before until he started dating Bret, noting how well-groomed the older man was. He wondered if he should make more of an effort to be hairless, but it was more work than he was willing to put in

💍 He’d gotten a full body wax once…sort of. He was too embarrassed to go to a professional. So, unfortunately for Hunter, Shawn enlisted the help of his best friend who wished he could wipe his memory of the experience.

“I’m not going anywhere near your dick!”

“Oh don’t act like you haven’t seen it before. Now help me wax my legs!”

💍 Hunter was still traumatized

💍 Fortunately for Shawn, and inadvertently Hunter, that was the first and last time he had to go through that experience. When Bret seemed indifferent to Shawn waxing, noting that he didn’t have a preference on the blond’s body hair, Shawn felt instant relief, “Oh, thank god. I feel like a naked mole rat!”

Extras

💍 Shawn’s very protective of Bret. Everyone sees Bret as this big tough guy with no emotions, but Shawn knows Bret’s really a softie. He’s a very sweet, sentimental guy and tends to take things to heart more than the average person. Shawn coddles him, Hunter sometimes having to remind Shawn, “he’s a grown ass man, not a baby” whenever Shawn freaks out over Bret getting the slightest scrape from wrestling. Bret must be protected at all costs

💍 It still baffles Bret how much of his life he spent without Shawn being in it. Saying he depends on Shawn for survival wouldn’t be an exaggeration. Shawn reminds Bret to eat, remembers appointments, makes sure bills are paid on time. You name it. Plus, he’s a great cuddler. Bret’s dubbed Shawn as his support human

💍 Bret’s really talented at drawing, and he often uses Shawn as his muse. Shawn loves laying on the couch, sprawled out like Rose from Titanic as Bret draws whatever his heart desires. Bret repeatedly has to tell Shawn to sit still, the younger man incapable of staying in one position for more than a minute

💍 Shawn has a binder full of Bret’s art, most of it consisting of portraits of himself. Hunter called him conceited for it, but it’s not Shawn’s fault that he’s the inspiration for most of Bret’s drawings

💍 Although Shawn’s a country boy, he’s a total disco queen. More often than not, Bret would return home to Shawn blasting classic 70’s and 80’s disco throughout the house, unashamedly gyrating his hips to the beat. Abba, The Bee Gees, and Earth Wind & Fire were stuck on repeat

💍 There was a point in the beginning stages of their relationship where they almost broke up due to Shawn’s drug use. The last time he used heavily was in college. However, he picked it up again and it slowly became a normal part of his routine whenever he hung out with the kliq, taking an unknown amount of somas or whatever was being offered at the time. Bret quickly became concerned when Shawn would come stumbling into his hotel room, clinging onto Hunter as he guided him to the bed, so incoherent that it was impossible for Bret to have a conversation with him. When it became a frequent occurrence, Bret adamantly told Shawn he needed to stop, to which the blond agreed. But it didn’t last long. It never did

💍 However, the final straw came when Shawn got so fucked up to the point of needing to be rushed to the hospital. Bret gave Shawn an ultimatum: either cut it out or they were done. He wasn’t going to sit by and watch Shawn ruin his life, especially when the blond was not making any efforts to better himself. It wasn’t a tough decision for Shawn. Just the thought of Bret leaving him shattered his heart. He wasn’t about to ruin what he was building with Bret. He’s never touched drugs ever since. Alcohol was another story, but Bret would rather deal with that than Shawn’s reckless drug use

💍 Shawn’s invite to the Slammy’s as Bret’s plus one was a huge deal. Only their close friends and family knew of their relationship. Shawn was worried, asking Bret if them showing up together would be too obvious. “Well, maybe it’s time to make it obvious” was Bret’s reply

💍 Owen’s their unofficial marriage counselor, both men often venting to him about their light annoyances. For Bret, it was usually him complaining about how annoying Shawn’s friends were. He couldn’t exactly complain to Shawn about that as the younger man always took up for them. For Shawn, it was whenever he was frustrated with Bret and needed to be reminded that not all Harts were insufferable. Owen tries hard to act as a neutral party, but there are times where he picks sides, and more often than not he sides with Shawn, oop 🫢

💍 Bret likes playing in Shawn’s hair. Whether it’s running his hands through the soft blond hair or attempting (and failing) to put it in a ponytail. Shawn let’s him do whatever style he wants, just loving the attention Bret gives him

#divider cr: @saradika #househusband!au #headcanon #shawn michaels #bret hart #hartbreak #bret hart x shawn michaels #wwf #alternate universe

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deepperplexity · 2 years ago

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Prompt: 14. Icy Roads

Pairing: Gruber x Fem!OC

POV: First, OC

Setting: Small village in the English countryside

A/N: I had so much fun writing with an OC for Snape so I thought I’d do another OC, with Hans this time 🥰 Now, I’ll say it right at the beginning here that this will be CONTINUED - tomorrow already actually since the prompts work well for what I have in mind 😂 This is just a meet-cute with instant attraction and I hope you’ll enjoy it, tomorrows prompt will probably be a lot “deeper” but today they meet for the first time and it’s adorable if a tiny bit sad, and there’s a bit of action too. I mean, it’s Hans so there’s gotta be something to set it all off 🙈

And there’s a German word in this fic - if you don’t know it please resist the urge to google it! I promise, it’ll be worth holding out until tomorrow for it as the OC has no idea what it means either and I have a plan for the word! 😂👏

Tags/TW’s: Meet-Cute, Instant Attraction, Near-Car Accident, Mentions Negative Family Relations, Questioning Self-Worth, Taught Negative Behaviour.

Word Count: 2.2k+

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3 // LINK TREE

I had bought all the gifts, the food, and the wrapping paper needed. The only thing left was the string I’d forgotten yesterday in the shopping chaos. “I thought I was doing good time-wise, why does every nitwit have to be out at the same bloody time as me?” I sighed, my breath turning to fog, and hurried along, heading for the little gift shop with nick-knacks and trinkets. It was the closest one, so even if it were a bit over-priced that’s where I was headed.

The wind was biting my cheeks, tugging on my long coat and scarf. I much rather would have been home, but of course, nobody else was willing to head out in the freezing cold. “I can’t be arsed,” I grumbled, imitating my sister’s words and pitchy voice from when I’d asked her to go instead of me since I was out nearly all day yesterday. Why she gotta be such a prat? And dad’s no better, always faffing around and bending backwards for his little princess… WHAT ABOUT ME?!

My feet thudded against the slippery sidewalk, frozen mounds of snow and previous slush separating me from the road with little to no traffic - a good thing given the blasted weather. I wiped at my eyes, my knitted gloves (that I’d made as a Christmas gift for myself last year since nobody could ever be bothered to get me anything) rubbing away the snow stuck in my lashes. “I can barely see where I’m putting my feet… This is bonkers,” I sighed and tugged the scarf a little tighter around my neck.

I made it to the little store, got the blasted string, and headed back out into the crazy weather that had somehow managed to pick up its pace in terms of both wind and snowfall. “Bloody brilliant, just wonderful. I’ll be soaked and frozen before I get home.”

With the new snow landing atop the frozen roads, they soon turned slippery, treacherous even. I walked with more care, making an effort to not land on my arse because of some damn string for some stupid gifts.

But, no matter how careful one is, you can’t make up for the way others behave. So, when I wipe my eyes for the millionth time I missed the man walking towards me in a hurry and all it took was a bumping of my shoulder and I was off balance.

“Hey! Watch—” My sentence got cut off as I stumbled against the snow mound. Tripping over it, wobbling about like some deer on ice I stumble out on the road, just barely remaining upright. With my arms out like some bloody scarecrow, I managed to catch my breath and find my balance anew.

I glare after the man whose back disappears into the snowy weather just a few feet away. “Brilliant, what a charming bloke,” I grumbled as I tried to make my way off the slippery road affording my boots no grip whatsoever.

“Are you alright?” a man asked over the wind, his accent quite strange. “What?” “Are you alright?” he asked anew as I peered towards the sidewalk, not really able to make out any of his features but a beard and broad shoulders through the swirling snow. “Fine, people can be so bloody charming!” I called back with a tad too much annoyance in my voice. “And I thought Christmas was the time of kindness and care,” I continued with a huff and the man laughed with a chuckle. The wind distorted it but it sounded quite deep and beautiful.

I took a step forward, gliding half a step further on the ice. This is ridiculous! “Watch out!” the man suddenly shouted and I had just enough time to turn my head to see the oncoming headlights lighting up the falling snow being tossed about by the wind.

My feet found no traction. I tried to get out of the way but I was walking in the same spot as dread filled my stomach. I’m gonna die because of string! “MOVE!” the man screamed as the car began to honk, the driver slamming on the brakes, making the car skid and slide on the road. I closed my eyes on instinct and lost my breath at the impact, throwing me backwards, making me slide along the road until my head hit the snow mound on the other side.

It hurt way less than I would have thought to be hit by a car, I felt almost fine. Perhaps my spine is broken and I can’t feel a thing?

“Are you alright?” That accented voice asked but it was far closer this time. “Miss? Are you hurt?” the man continued and I blinked my eyes open only to see a man’s face hovering right above mine. “Huh?” “Are you hurt?” he asked with more force and the depth of his voice seemed to send a chill down my spine. The icy blue eyes and thick beard, the rather large but somehow regal nose appeared perfectly suited to his face. I didn’t get hit by the car?

“I’m-, I’m fine. Did you-, did you knock me out of the way? Are you daft?! You could have been hit!” “You would have been, if I hadn’t done that, schnuki,” the man said, the last word spoken in thick German — which explained the accent but not my body warming each time he spoke. Or the way he seemed to actually see me, not just watch me but his eyes… they saw me. “Now, let’s get you up,” he continued and somehow managed to rise up and off me quite elegantly; his long black coat dusted with snow.

He reached out his leather glove covered hand and after a moment of me ogling the man without realising what I was doing I grabbed it and he pulled me up. “Ahh-, bloody hell,” I hissed as my back protested for a bit and snow slid inside my coat, chilling my skin and making me shiver. “Hurt?” “No, no, just-, snow, in my coat,” I said and shivered before brushing off my arms from the white stuff.

I shrugged my entire body to shake myself loose while ha brushed off the arms of his own coat. “Oh, here, let me help.” I reached up and began brushing off the shoulders of his coat and down the front before I noticed what the bloody hell I was doing. My cheeks began to burn as I halted my motion, almost not daring to look up at him, towering a head above me. “I-, umh, I-, sorry,” I stammered out but he merely looked at me.

“We should get off the road. Wouldn’t want another car to come, schnuki,” he said after a moment. I blinked away the snow from my lashes and nodded, unable to get my usually blabbering mouth to function apparently. He was just so different. I couldn’t help but ogle the man a few seconds too long before turning and clumsily climbing over the snow mound on the opposite side of the road to where I had been.

When I looked over my shoulder he simply walked up and over it, as if it were no hindrance to him or the polished Oxford boots he wore. He dressed splendidly, each piece of clothing exuding wealth and quality — unlike my tattered favourite coat and the homemade scarf and mittens I wore. Well, he’s older too so he’s probably had time to get to where he is. I’ll get myself some fancy coat and good shoes eventually too, hopefully, if things work out. Not that I’ll ever leave this godforsaken village. Dad would starve or not have any clean clothes to wear — I don’t even know which he’d hate more. The house would collapse and who would sis blame everything wrong with her life on if I wasn’t there?

“Thoughtful?” the man asked and I shook my head, realising I’d been damn near staring at him while my mind ran rampant. “You appear to think of something, less happy? No?” he asked and I couldn’t help but adore the accent, the way he spoke so differently but with some form of quality, nobody around my little home town spoke like that. Nonetheless, it didn’t help my burning cheeks that he’d caught onto my gloom.

“So, eh, thanks for pushing me-, umh, saving me,” I managed to say in some kind of nearly coherent manner. What is wrong with me? He’s just a man, a pleasant and handsome and cultivated and obviously wealthy one, but still. Ugh, why can’t I talk with him like with any other of the nitwits around here? They don’t call me Blabber Missy for no reason. And look, my mind obviously works just fine, blabbering on. “A pretty woman like you shouldn’t be out in this weather, alone no less.” “Well, dad couldn’t be bothered with string for the gifts and sis just couldn’t be bothered at all. So, yeah, and it was my fault anyway, I was out yesterday but forgot the string. I got everything else, but they didn’t have my favourite caramels left either. So, I guess, apart from the one thing I was gonna get for myself and the string I got everything.”

“Then again, I guess I could have-, oh, sorry, I’m blabbering,” I laughed nervously while avoiding his gaze, moving some snow with the toe of my shoe. But the man chuckled warmly, nearly playfully. “She speaks,” he said with a smile in his voice. “Well, yeah, I talk a lot, sorry, I know it’s annoying.” “Ah, don’t say that, schnuki. You have a sweet voice,” he said and my eyes flew up to his.

“Something the matter?” “Ah, umh, no, just-, just been a while since someone didn’t find me annoying,” I said with a shrug, not really wanting to show him just how long it had been since I hadn’t been shushed, had someone roll their eyes at me, or even been straight up told to ‘shut it, blabber missy’. “But it’s fine, I know I talk a lot, if there’s someone who-, ah, no, never mind. I’ll be going then.” “May I have your name at least? Or is that not something you exchange in England?” “Oh god, I’m sorry, excuse me,” I gasped out while reaching my hand out with haste. “Anna-Louisa Humphrey, but everyone just calls me Lulu.” “Why would anyone shorten such a pretty name to Lulu?” he asked, almost offended by my nickname it seemed. “I suppose they got tired of having to say the entirety of it so often when telling me to be quiet once every third minute when I was little. Lulu is faster to say, easier to say when you’re in a hurry too.” I shrugged, having given up on getting rid of the nickname a long time ago and now not really being bothered by it anymore.

The man took a slightly deeper breath, nearly sighing as he reached his hand out and grasped mine firmly but not too harshly. “Hans Gruber,” he said and the name made perfect sense for him. “It suits you, Mr Gruber.” “You may call me Hans, schnuki. If you so please,” he said with a slight smile framed by that thick beard of his. He was stupidly handsome when he smiled, and silly-handsome when he didn’t. I couldn’t decide which I liked more but my body seemed to go silly over both. At least I wasn’t cold anymore. “Hans, then,” I said and we shook hands. It felt a little strange to get tingly over it now that I knew he had tackled me out of the way and the slight ache in my ribs was from the impact of his body.

“I best be going, it’s getting quite late. Umh, but, thank you again and-, and I’m sorry for being a nuisance and all. I didn’t mean for you to have to get snow all over you to save me. I hope your coat won’t get stains from the road salt,” I rambled out in a rush, feeling like the biggest annoyance to the man ever even if he had not indicated that he felt like that in any way, but they all do. I am a nuisance, an annoying blabbermouth that nobody ever listens to anyway but— “Anna-Louisa,” he said with a slightly harsher voice, interrupting my thoughts, “why would my coat matter more than getting you out of the way of that car?” “It looks like an expensive coat, valuable.” “And you’re not?”

That made me chuckle nervously while getting my hair out of my face, the snowfall turning it wetter by the minute. But he arched a brow at me, as if he demanded me to answer his question. “I best be going,” I simply said as I began to back away, feeling the most horrible ache in my chest while he started to open his mouth, but I continued talking before he had a chance. “It’s late, and you’re getting soggy from the snow, but thank you again, and merry Christmas, Hans,” I said with as wide a smile as I could offer before abruptly turning and bolting away from him — zeroing in my focus on not slipping or falling on my arse while my boots slipped along the sidewalk covered with snow-dusted ice.

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A/N: Are we excited to see where this may go? 👀🙈 And don't worry, for all you waiting on the continuation of prompt 8. To Be Alone that's also a Gruber fic, IT'S COMINg, I sjtu needed to make it fit with the prompts and I'm nearly done with it 🥰

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[Dec:2022]

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