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inneedofsupervision · 4 months ago

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Sleepless Nights

This story plays shortly after Ciel and Sebastian create their contract and are still getting to know each other. The Young Master is troubled, and as his butler, Sebastian cannot help growing restless. Ciel Phantomhive, the young earl of the House Phantomhive, fights a bad case of insomnia. Ordered to find a solution, Sebastian tries his best to accomplish his master's request. The demon of a butler is nearly coming to his wits end when he seems to have found a way to get his master to sleep, which he has not thought about before.

(Based on the manga. Also, Re-Upload and edited)

Lee! Ciel / Ler! Sebastian

(Read on Ao3)

"Sebastian."

"Yes, my Lord?"

"I can't sleep."

Sebastian sighed. It was the fourth time this week that his master had complained about being unable to sleep. Every night, he was told to come to his master's bedroom, only to find the young earl sitting upright in his bed, a blanket tightly wrapped around his small frame, tiredness mixed with a hint of annoyance flickering in the child's eyes.

The first time the young master was kept awake by nightmares hunting him, a simple cup of warm milk had helped, but sometimes the child felt too restless to sleep, and not even the calming drink could help at times like these. The young earl always looked terribly tired during the day and often fell asleep at his desk and in lessons.

Sebastian started to occupy himself with the matter. He had to admit to not knowing much about this kind of trouble as he had not once held a contract with anyone who needed as much care as the frail child he now called his master. Demons didn't need to rest. It never was something that he had to worry about in his previous 'lives'. But now, since he had to take care of a child for which sleep was crucial for its health, not to mention that the young master had a weak body, he had to realize that it wasn't as easy as he thought it to be.

The demon began reading about it and even went as far as traveling to small villages around the area to watch humans putting their offspring to bed, observing what the parents were doing to make their children fall asleep. From what he gathered, for a child to be well-rested, it was essential to make them feel safe and comfortable. With even younger children, the warmth of other humans around them seemed to help in all cases he had managed to observe. The demon felt something akin to annoyance. Humans were so fickle.

Sebastian had to admit that he almost gave up on the task. The research seemed useless since he could not rock the young master to sleep if the demon didn't want to be kicked out in the cold with insults thrown his way for disgracing his master in such a shameful way. The warm milk with honey only helped when the child had nightmares but not when he felt restless.

But then, one night, as Sebastian observed another family, he witnessed something that intrigued him. A mother chased her son playfully around their small home before catching and scooping the child into a loving embrace. She then started tickling his tummy as she carried him over to his bed, where she laid him down. She tickled him a bit more, the child laughing and giggling before she gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead and tucked him in. The child immediately fell asleep after.

"How interesting," muttered the demon as he stepped into the dark. Now that he was standing in front of his master's bed with the young earl expectantly looking up at him, why not test this new method?

"Young Master, I will try something new today which I believe could help with your fatigue," explained Sebastian as he fluffed the pillow before putting it gently down behind his master.

Mismatched eyes glanced a bit warily from under black-bluish bangs up to him. Sebastian smiled reassuringly at the boy.

"If you would please lay down, my Lord."

The demon waited for the earl to unwrap himself from his blanket cocoon. After he had laid down, Ciel watched with a questioning face as Sebastian knelt down next to the bed.

Sebastian moved closer until he was kneeling right in front of the boy. He reached for the blanket as a petit hand grabbed his wrist. The demon's lip dared twitch upwards at the child's expression.

"What are you doing?"

His master, mistrusting as ever. He continued where he laid off, much to the boy's distaste.

"Sebastian, wha-" protested Ciel, wanting to pull the blanket back up. It was cold only with his thin shirt on, but a hand laid down on his own and stopped him.

"This is for your own good, Young Master," shushed his butler with a finger on his lips and a small smile playing over his features as he put the blanket back into place.

Ciel frowned a bit but then laid back down again.

"I hope Sebastian knows what he is doing," thought the boy, who was still skeptical at what his demon of a butler had in mind.

Sebastian waited until his master was lying down again before stretching an arm out. Ciel watched curiously and raised an eyebrow when the hand was placed on his abdomen.

"Sebastian, I want to know what you are planni-ahah no!"

Red eyes widened, and he looked into a blue and a purple one who stared back at him, looking just as surprised, if not slightly mortified.

"Sebastian, stop this right now!"

While his master had started to protest again, Sebastian had curled his fingers, mimicking the movements he had seen the woman doing at the child a night before. To test it out, Sebastian wriggled his fingers again, this time lightly tickling along his master's stomach, and he was not disappointed at the reaction he got. Ciel instantly brought his hands over his mouth, desperate to stifle his giggles. Sebastian pulled his hand back, a smirk playing on his lips while the boy in front of him fought the blush back but to no use and threw a glare in his direction.

"What do you think you're doing?!"

"It's called tickling if I remember correctly."

"I know what it's called, but why?" asked the young boy, aghast.

"You said you could not fall asleep, so I studied some methods that could help. It seems like laughing can tire humans out and make them content at the same time. This helps them to relax and fall asleep easily. I saw it myself," explained the demon, taking great pleasure in the absolute terror washing over the boy.

"You do that only to children!"

"If I may point this out, my Lord, you're quite a child yourself," said Sebastian with a chuckle.

"Shut up, Sebastian. This is stupid. Think of something else," ordered the boy before reaching out for the blanket to pull it over himself and try to sleep without his stupid butler trying to 'help,' but a hand stopped him.

"Young Master, you didn't even test it out," said Sebastian with a sickening sweet smile.

"No, we are not doing this. Sebastian, I order you to lea-ahaha nooo!"

Sebastian smirked when the young boy shrieked before quickly rolling to the side when he started tickling his stomach again.

"You seem quite ticklish, Young Master. Maybe this method will be a success."

"Shuhuht uhup!"

The laughing boy yelled angrily at the damned demon to let go of him but squealed in surprise when he was pulled back, facing his way too brightly smiling butler. Sebastian started to use both hands, ten fingers softly and experimentally poking and prodding all over the young earl's body. When he squeezed the boy's hips, Ciel bucked violently, his back arching before he flopped back down onto the mattress, laughing louder than before. The young earl rolled on his stomach to shake the devil's hands off, but the opposite happened. Sebastian was still tickling him, but now Ciel couldn't even see what the demon did and where he would attack next. It made every sensation ten times more unbearable.

"My my, seems like the Young Master got quite sensitive hips," stated the demon matter of factly while squeezing said hips, his large fingers digging right into the trashing boy's hipbones. The young boy squealed before a peal of loud laughter filled the room as he desperately trashed around on the large bed. He squeaked in protest when the tormenting hands grabbed him around the waist and flopped him onto his back like he weighed nothing before sly fingers crept under his thin shirt, starting to tickle his belly again. They softly scratched, wiggled, poked, and pinched at the soft flesh, making the young earl fall into a giggle fit. Ciel weakly tried to bat the attacking hands away, but it was in vain. The demon of a butler snickered at his master's attempts to shove his hands away, reminding him of the kitten he feds in the yard during his breaks. Ciel bucked under the touch, laughing even louder than before. He didn't care about his dignity at this point, curling up into a ball as tiny as he could when fingers wandered up and down his sides, playfully goosing and tweaking them, which led to Ciel squirming around like a worm.

"Thihihis ihis stupihihd," protested the boy as he managed to roll back on his stomach. He tried to crawl further into the middle of the bed and away from the edge where his evil butler was now standing with a sly smirk on his lips. Just before he had thought that he had managed to escape, a large hand wrapped around his ankle and pulled him back.

"Nooohoho!" screamed the boy and kicked out, small hands clawing into the bedding as he tried to pull himself back into the safe center of the large bed. A high-pitched squeal escaped him, and he instantly pulled his arms back when a hand clawed at his rib cage, long fingers digging in between the bones. H was sent back into a stage of being a heap of flailing limbs and squeaky laughter.

"I never knew you were this sensitive, Young Master."

Sebastian observed the earl laughing and trashing around on the big four-poster bed, childlike giggles and squeals filling the room.

"Sebahastiahan!"

"Yes, Young Master?"

"Stohohahap!"

"But Young, Master, you asked me to help you to sleep better. I am doing my best to oblige your order."

"Hohow is thihihs going toho hehel-NOO!"

The young boy screamed before he fell into another hysterical laughing fit. Sebastian raised an eyebrow questioningly, wondering what could have made the young master react this way. Hindering the stubborn child from finishing his sentence was an accomplishment, making him curious.

A smirk formed on his face.

"Ticklish underarms, I assume?" teased the demon whose hands had buried themselves under the earl's arms, scratching lightly at the thin fabric of the nightshirt the boy always wore when going to sleep. It did a poor job protecting the child's sensitive skin, and even if the demon was wearing his gloves, it still tickled like hell.

Ciel's laughter kicked up a notch, and he trashed, kicking widely with his skinny legs and his arms flailing around uselessly. Sebastian was truly evil and ruthless with his tickle attack, and Ciel couldn't even remember the last time he laughed so hard. It was dumb and childish, but he couldn't deny that it felt good to laugh like that. The boy hated to admit it, but it also was fun, even when Sebastian behaved like an oaf by teasing him so much because that made the whole sensation worse but made it also more playful. He could feel how his trashing grew weaker with every torturous, tickly moment.

"Sebahastiaaan! Ihihi cahahn't ahaha."

"You can't? I must apologize, Young Master, but could you elaborate?"

The demon had to chuckle at the glare the earl was trying to throw at him. The bubbly giggles and the smile he tried to oppress weren't doing him a favor in trying to look threatening.

"You still seem very energetic to me. Are you feeling any tired yet, Young Master?" asked Sebastian teasingly as he pulled the child even closer to the edge of the bed.

"I'm tirehehd. I'm tirehed!" cried the young boy, struggling to pull himself back into the middle of his bed. He didn't even want to know what would happen when Sebastian caught him.

"I think one more minute, and we can stop. What do you say, Young Master, is one minute enough to tire you out?"

Without waiting for an answer, the demon pulled the child closer. Ciel gulped before his eyes grew wide, nervously watching Sebastian reach for his feet. The boy's kicking increased, and he squirmed, but the demon caught his feet effortlessly.

"I heard humans are quite ticklish on their feet," states Sebastian, changing his hold, needing only one hand to keep the child from kicking.

"No," lied Ciel instantly, still trying to pull his feet out of Sebastian's hold.

"No?" asked the demon teasingly.

"So this," he began and slowly scratched with his pointer finger along the arch, "does not tickle at all? What a shame. Here, I thought I found something useful."

He chuckled as he saw how the earl had taken the pillow and was now tightly pressing his face against it, his small shoulders shaking as he tried to suppress his laughter. Sebastian then started using four fingers to scratch at the pale soles from the top down to the bottom and watched with great amusement how now Ciel's whole body was shaking, face pressed even tighter into the pillow. It couldn't absorb all the little noises the boy made, stifled laughter clearly dancing through the room. It only took a brief tickle under his toes for the boy to lose it completely. The moment where his demon butler wiggled his fingers under them, Ciel shot up from the pillow and pounded his fists against it. His laugh slowly changed into giggly wheezing with little hiccups in between, and he could feel how his body grew tired with every second. Sebastian, who heard the change in the boy's laughter, started to slow down, not wanting to trigger the boy's asthma. He still let his fingertips dance softly over the boy's feet, listening to the frantic laughter changing into tired giggles before he let go of the young earl's ankles. Ciel instantly pulled his feet and legs up before quickly grabbing the blanket and pulling it over his body.

"Don't worry, I won't tickle you anymore," chuckled Sebastian as he stepped up to the front end of the bed and reached for the pillow. He fluffed it up again and laid it onto the bed before bowing once into the direction of the blanket pile.

"Good night, Young Master."

He tapped lightly at the blanket pile before walking over to the door but turning back again.

"I'll retire now, but if you need anything, please call."

He reached for the door nob and was about to blow out the last candles when he heard the child calling for him.

"S-Sebastian!"

"Yes, Young Master?"

"Stay here. Until I fall asleep."

"Yes, Young Master."

As soon as Ciel's head met the pillow, his eyes were already closed, a content sigh passing his lips.

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #ciel phantomhive #sebastian michaelis #ticklish ciel #lee! ciel #ler! sebastian #tickling #tickle fic #black butler tickle fic

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canon-fcdder · 2 months ago

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✧ 「 @tuesdayscanons 」 ✧ - Continued from ★

「 ☆ 」 Alright, perhaps ❛ nasty ❜ was too judgmental of a word… but Mr. Peanutbutter still stands by his question! When one is used to lathering their tone in saccharine wrappings like the canine ( people respond better to jovial voices and smiling faces ) , even polite bluntness seems like a slap to the face. No doubt a topic where the two will have to agree to disagree. Frankly, PB is aware of this. He knows how BoJack operates. Understands that tact isn’t the horse’s strongest skill. He doesn’t mind it. Much. Loves BoJack for it, if he’s being honest.

Just not when it’s aimed at a co-star he’s going to be stuck sending months with. Especially one with loose lips, the actress prone to subtle smear campaigns should she be even somewhat disrespected. Not the first snake in the grass PB has contended with, which is why he knows how to handle it better than BoJack. Good a boy as he may be, even Mr. Peanutbutter isn’t immune to the fickle nature of Hollywoob. Best to smile, wag his tail, and count down the days until it's over.

❝ She wasn't ❛ tonguing ❜ with me; she was talking to me... ❞ He begins, exasperated at even needing to HAVE this conversation; tail no longer wagging and ears pinning back in a mirror of his Not Official Husband's. Not that he doesn't get where it's coming from. Technically. Although, he'd argue he has just as much reason to doubt BoJack's loyalty, yet is careful to hold HIS tongue. But it's unnerving whenever they fight. Far too familiar to the friction that would arise between him and his ex wives. Especially Diane. ❝ And yeah, she was clearly flirting. But that shouldn't be an issue! Because I don't have any interest in her. ❞

Palms outstretched in front of himself in a gesture partway between pleading and placating, PB looks up at Bojack with the hope he'll understand... but not the expectation of it. ❝ But I do have to continue working with her... and I'd rather not have any bad feelings making that any more difficult than it already is. ❞ Shrugging with a look off to the side, he tries to downplay the severity of what that means. Since to him, it ISN'T anything of note. Why would it, when he's finally with the man he's always wanted? ❝ If that means letting Sienna have her fun and pretend she has a chance off camera, well— I don't see the harm in that. ❞

Yes he does, but it's still the better option than shutting her down outright. It's not like she's the sort to take it as anything but a challenge anyway. Refocusing his gaze on BoJack, he rests a hand on his chest and tries to ease his voice into something more gentle. Soothing, rather than the snippiness of earlier. ❝ It's only for a few more months and then the movie will be over and she'll move onto the next guy. Come on, Honey. You've been around, you know that's how it works. ❞ Perhaps not the BEST idea to bring up BoJack's past conquests: both forgettable flings and serious attempts at a lasting partnership...

But Mr. Peanutbutter is too focused on the ❛ people moving on from it ❜ part rather than the very blatant sexual aspects of them all. Or the constant of moving on from BOJACK... but it's hard to take that view into consideration when he's had his own string of failed relationships. It's not just a BoJack thing. It's an everyone thing. A them thing. PB just hopes it's also a pattern that has finally come to an end. 「 ☆ 」

#bojack horseman tw #(( *SLAMS down my first time writing the Good Boy* :3c ))#canon-fcdder #mr. peanutbutter ic tbt #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʀꜱᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʜᴏʀꜱɪɴ’ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ❞ ¦ 「 BoJack 」#mr. peanutbutter and bojack tbt #tuesdayscanons #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪꜰ ʏ'ᴀʟʟ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ; ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘᴀꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴀᴛ? ❞ ¦ 「 RP 」#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ’ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴀɴᴅɪɴɢ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ; ɪ ᴀᴍ ʟʏɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

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wistrea · 3 months ago

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@telndas sent: well , that doesn't sound like a good thing .

❛ oh, it certainly isn't. ❜ despite the heavy implications of her words, the inquisitor delivers them with an unwavering eloquence that somehow softens the edges of the messages, yet does nothing to lighten it's weight. an attribute of diplomacy credited to her noble upbringing, one could say, though kira has never been one to honey a bitter pill to swallow before she fed it to a mouth hungry for answers.

after all, she would not insult suhani by feeding her the same compromised speeches she gave the nobles of orlais when they sent her hardened requests disguised in their elegant script writing. kira had been the one to ask for suhani's council in the first place, shoving aside pride for the sake of the inquisition's best interests as they continued to build their resources and reputation in their pursuit of solutions. even within the privacy of the war table room, she does not allow her posture to slump, as she reads the contents of the parchment in her hand once again, before finally placing it down atop the map - covered surface.

❛ it will only serve to hinder the operations of the corvids in val royeaux if we do not cooperate with lieutenant cloche-sec for now. our reputation with orlais remains fickle. it will help us retain a better foundation if we aid them in pursuing the marquise bouffon. ❜ she said, glancing at suhani as she folded her arms across her chest. ❛ that is where i was hoping i could ask for your aid, friend of mine. you're a better voice to the wardens than i, and i heard they were pursuing demons in a similar area. two are better than one in a hunt. ❜

#telndas #THIS WAS REALLY FUN TO WRITE IM NGL #thinking maybe they knew each other in o.rigin?#[ 𝐢. ] answered › i spoke destruction into the world and i could not take it back.#[ 𝐢𝐢. ] in character › i’ve no more kept my warmth than blood upon the snow.#[ 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 ] dragon age › now are the days of wine and gilded arms.

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purplink8 · 1 year ago

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It's my firm belief that Celebrity (Netflix) would go along so well with Taylor Swift's song "Look what you made me do" like:

"I don't like your little games Don't like your tilted stage The role you made me play of the fool No, I don't like you"

A-ri doesn't like the e-celebs and their petty little games on their stage (online platform). She hates how they made her out the fool (the circumstances leading to her fake-death).

"I don't like your perfect crime How you laugh when you lie You said the gun was mine Isn't cool, no, I don't like you (oh!)"

The drug case in a nutshell. The crime is "perfect" as Jin Tae-jeon is involved in effectively (until the last episode, that is) hiding it. Members of the Gabin Society (with the exception of Yoon Si-hyeon) have two faces: they live in a total lie with their personas well in place before their audience. But A-ri sees their mask and dislikes it. "You said the gun was mine": how Oh Min-hye pinned the whole drug incident onto A-ri, how the suicide of Mr. Park was blamed on A-ri; these lies & slander aren't cool and A-ri doesn't like the liars one bit.

"But I got smarter, I got harder in the nick of time Honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time I got a list of names, and yours is in red, underlined I check it once, then I check it twice, oh!"

A-ri becomes smarter at the race-to-the-top games that the e-celebs play in pursuit of popularity + money. She also gets "harder" or say, a lil ruthless in that game: blackmailing other influencers with dirt on them thanks to _bbbfamous. Oh boy does she have a list of names with her right now to get sweet, sweet revenge. And you can bet that _bbbfamous's name is in red.

"Ooh, look what you made me do ... Look what you just made me do"

Her faking her death, basically.

"I (I) don't (don't) like your kingdom keys (keys) They (they) once belonged to me (me) You (you) asked me for a place to sleep Locked me out and threw a feast (what?)

The world moves on, another day another drama, drama But not for me, not for me, all I think about is karma And then the world moves on, but one thing's for sure Maybe I got mine, but you'll all get yours"

Do I even need to explain this one? It's highly obvious that we get to see what A-ri's motivations in exposing the e-celebs are. One word. Karma. As A-ri's brother says, they should get a taste of what A-ri had to go through. The world is set ablaze for a few days with the newest drama and then moves on quickly; while we have A-ri critiquing the fickle nature of the world and expressing the surety of her karma's success.

"I don't trust nobody and nobody trusts me I'll be the actress starring in your bad dreams"

Obvious meaning is obvious. After experiencing so much of back-stabbing (especially from her best friend), is it any wonder that A-ri doesn't trust anybody? The least of all: other e-celebs? And of course nobody trusts her as accusation after accusation, hate, rumors etc are piled on against her. A-ri is the actress (e-celeb) starring in her haters' (esp _bbbfamous) bad dreams as she uproots their whole reputation.

"I'm sorry But the old Taylor can't come to the phone right now Why? Oh, 'cause she's dead (oh)"

A-ri has definitely changed now, the old A-ri is dead (episode 11 is cleverly titled '#but_she's_dead') literally (her fake death) and metaphorically (her choosing not to become an influencer again despite having a significant number of supporters).

And that concludes my rambles! If you're still here, reading this, I love you and wish you a fantastic day! <3

#celebrity netflix #celebrity #celebrity kdrama #netflix #kdrama #look what you made me do #taylor swift #meta #celebrity meta #p #my meta

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wickedlittlecritta · 1 year ago

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Psst psst psst. you wanna read this little interlude between stories 2 and 3 in my nano project?

You’re about an hour east of Flagstaff when you all stop at a diner, and you see the payphone. It looks like it still works, though the little shelter around it has been heavily layered in graffiti.

It asks for only fifty cents for a call still, and you find two quarters in your jacket pocket.

It feels like a sign from God. You’re not sure you believe in God anymore though.

“I’ll be a second,” you tell Fox. “I gotta take care of something first.”

He looks at you. Not with suspicion, though you think maybe he should. Just with concern. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Everything’s fine. I just need a second.”

He nods. When you were in high school you used to think you couldn’t possibly be in love with him, because love seemed like a fickle, impermanent thing, and whatever the two of you had was much deeper. But you’ve learned that that’s what love is supposed to be. Everyone else had it wrong, not you.

You are not used to being right. Not about the important things.

Fox heads inside the diner, and you miss him even though he’s just right there.

You could change your mind. You can’t.

You walk across the lot to the payphone, sitting forlorn by a bus stop sign, and put the fifty cents in. The dial tone hums in your ear as you press those old, clunky buttons down satisfyingly in the familiar rhythm of your parent’s landline number.

You hope they haven’t gotten rid of it since you left. They were talking about it. Only scams and solicitors calling, your mother said.

Do you hope more for your mother to pick up, or your father? Both will ask questions you can’t answer. You miss them both terribly. But you get along with them better when you miss them, you've found.

The phone rings. It keeps ringing. You wonder if you’ll go to voicemail. You wonder if they did disconnect their landline, and the payphone will simply ring forever, hopelessly hopeful.

Maybe voicemail would be best.

There is a click as the phone is picked up. “Chevalier residence,” your mother’s voice says. You adjust your hold on the phone.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Marcel? Marcel! Honey, are you alright? Where are you?”

“I’m fine, Mom. I’m fine. I’m with Fox.” You don’t tell her where you are. It’s safest if she doesn’t know.

There is a brief moment of silence. “Honey. Did you elope with Fox?”

You startle. “What? No.”

“You know we like Fox, you could come home and—”

“Mom, we didn’t elope. We…” You don’t want her to worry. She’s going to worry anyway. “We maybe. Got into a little trouble. With the mob.”

Silence again. “Jesus Christ, Marcel.”

“Nothing bad has happened. We’re just being careful.”

Your mother sighs. You feel bad. “I’m sorry,” you say.

“You should know better than get involved in anything like that.”

You don’t answer. How can you? You’ve known better your whole life, but you just keep making bad choices. Leaving Fox. Going into the Navy. Robbing the MFA with Fox. You knew better every time. It’s like you’re punishing yourself, only you’re not sure exactly what crime you committed to deserve the things you do to yourself. Being born, maybe. Feeling like a loose gear that’s never fit in the machine of life, probably.

“I’m sorry,” you say again. “I’m sorry I never figured out how to be a better person.” You hope you don’t sound bitter. You aren’t. You’re just a little confused. Why do you always feel so confused when you talk to your family?

“Marcel,” your mother says.

“I love you,” you tell her. “Tell Dad I love him too, okay?”

“Marcel, I don’t know what’s going on, but we can fix things. Come home.”

“I promise I’m going to stay out of trouble,” you lie. It’s possible to lie to your mother over the phone, if you try hard.

“Marcel! Don’t—”

“I love you,” you say again, and hang up. You think you feel worse than you did before you called. You stand in the thin band of shade under the payphone cover a moment longer. The desert in winter is comfortably warm. You’ve been in other deserts, far away, but the smell of greasy fries from the diner is keeping them from encroaching, like a sandstorm in your mind. There’s no sandstorm of memory today. There’s just you and your big boots and feet sweating inside them from your wool socks that are too warm for the weather. You take a big breath and head inside.

The diner is one of those long steel buildings with big neon signs outside, and chrome and red and turquoise inside. Elvis is playing on an old jukebox when you enter, just audible over the sound of chatter. Most of it’s coming from the middle of the diner, where three tables have been pushed together so that Paddy and Carmen and Chela and Fish and Fox can all sit together.

There is an empty chair across from Fox, with a plain white ceramic coffee mug siting at it, full of coffee with cream, waiting for you. You sit at the chair left for you, and pick up your coffee. Fox loves you; he knows how to make it just right.

“Is everything okay?” he asks you again, studying your face. He was never pretty, back when you both thought he was a girl, and he’s not handsome now, with his angular, pointy face, but he has the softest brown eyes.

“Everything is perfect,” you tell him. And you mean it.

#untitled heist novel #so far the other stories are all first person present from fox's pov #but i thought it would be fun to check in with marcel #and he is a solid 2nd person pov bc he's got ~trauma~

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maccreadysbaby · 2 years ago

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CRASH AND BURN™︎

fem!oc x preston garvey

in which a strange girl shows up in the commonwealth to tell the minutemen that an old enemy is rising up from the capital wasteland, and they’re not just coming for kicks and giggles. oh, and an unassuming second-in-command manages to catch her silver eye, even on the brink of war.

❝ if this is what it feels like to fall for you, garvey, i don’t want to stop until i crash and burn ❞

this is chapter five. full chapter masterlist can be found here.

TW: none

❝ ANSWERS ❞

Vault 62, DC, Capital Wasteland

Aug 7, 2288, 1700

— “HOW ON EARTH COULD RIOT GO MISSING IN A VAULT?” Heartley’s mother questioned, shaking her head as she dissected something that looked vaguely like a brain. Heartley decided she wasn’t going to stare at it much. Instead, she sat at her mother’s desk, spinning around and around in the desk chair. That was most of what she did working with her mom.

“I dunno, but Alec was a massive dick about it. He hit Scout,” She explained. The incident had only been an hour ago, and it was still fresh in her mind.

Her mother glanced up at her, eyes wide. “He what?”

“He punched Scout in the face and made his nose bleed,” Heartley reiterated, spinning around in a circle. “Made Simon cry, too, I’m pretty sure. Disappeared after Alec blabbed about his mom.”

“Good grief,” The woman in the lab coat sighed, picking at the floppy pink thing on her table. “What a massive man child. If only he wasn’t our leader. Corrupted leadership is a definite way to destroy a group like the Enclave.”

Heartley huffed. “Why won’t he just believe us when we say we don’t know?”

Her mother shrugged from her spot, focused on her dissecting. “You guys aren’t exactly the most popular people in the vault. And, no offense, but Scout, Riot, and Chicago are pretty sketchy. I would understand why he didn’t believe you.”

“But Tuesday runs with us, and he’s, like, more morally upright than most adults in this place,”

“He’s also a teenager. Teenagers are fickle and unpredictable. And really good at hiding things.”

Heartley groaned like a child, tilting her head back against the back of the chair. “I mean, I’m glad you and Alec got all happy-slappy and had me, but I hate him on literally every other level.”

“Me, too.” Her mother stated simply. She poked at the brain a few more times.

“I’m… slightly worried for the answer, but I must ask: why are you playing patty-cake with someone’s brain?” Heartley questioned, scrunching her nose as she focused too hard on the gross, floppy thing across the room.

“It’s for Courser studies, honey,” Her mother sighed. “Oh, by the way, Dr. Jones stopped by for an evening check over. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Heartley shrugged. “I just… uh, you deserve to be happy, mom.” She deadpanned.

“No, you were trying to get your hands on Tuesday and Simon. I wasn’t born yesterday,” Her mom chuckled. “I don’t mind his company, but it would at least be nice if I got a little warning.”

“Sorry,” Heartley snickered. But her smile quickly faded into a blank stare, and she continued: “…mom?”

At the change of tone, her mother looked up and paused what she was doing. “What is it, baby?”

Heartley spun slightly, pulling at her vibrant red curls. “Do you think Riot’s dead? He has a lot of people in here that don’t like him.”

“Oh, honey…” Her mother cooed, dropping her tools and peeling off her gloves, heading over to the desk Heartley was sitting at. She seemed troubled, deep in thought and calculative with her words. “I… I wish I had an answer for you. The best I have is… I don’t know.”

Heartley may have been two years shy of Riot’s age, but she could remember meeting him when she was ten. That’s when they got moved into the vault, when their little friend group formed because they were the only nine kids in the whole place. She remembered sitting in the boring classroom with him, flipping pencils back and forth when the teacher wasn’t looking. She remembered when they were thirteen and fifteen, and he gave her her first cigarette. (She almost died.) He started drug dealing with they were fourteen and sixteen, and she always covered for him because he wasn’t sly back then. She had her first kiss with him when they were seventeen and nineteen — something she didn’t necessarily regret but definitely wouldn’t do again.

She knew everyone had their memories with him: Markus, Scout, Chicago, Mercury, Jericho, Tuesday, and Simon. They all loved him like a brother. A sketchy, drug-dealing brother, but a brother nonetheless. A brother that might be dead.

Heartley’s mother rubbed her shoulder gently. “Riot is resourceful. If he got out of the vault, like Alec thinks, he’ll survive.”

Heartley shook her head. “I don’t think he left, mom. I think someone killed him.”

Her mother stiffened. “Honey…”

“If the vault door opened there would’ve been sirens and lights and crap. And there wasn’t anything. Unless he climbed out through a hole somewhere, there’s no way out without alerting literally everyone inside. I don’t know why I didn’t realize that earlier…” Heartley trailed off, looking down at her lap. “I think he’s dead, mom.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions, sweetheart, it isn’t good for your mind,” She stated, brushing a hand through Heartley’s hair. “He could be hiding for whatever reason. He’ll probably come out of hiding and tell one of you guys what’s going on soon enough.”

Heartley sighed, rising from the chair. “I’m going to bed.”

“Okay, hon. Come get me if you need me, okay?”

Heartley nodded, and her mother gave her a quick peck on the cheek before she left the lab and headed toward the residential sector.

Surely Alec realized the lights and alarms would’ve gone off if the door was opened. Was he hiding something?

As she thudded down the stairs, she caught sight of Simon, by himself, in the medbay, cleaning. She took a quick detour and drifted up into the doorframe, leaning against the metal without him noticing.

“…You okay?”

He flinched, but when his eyes landed on her, his expression softened. He wasn’t even pretending to hide the dullness in his eyes. He had his lab coat on even though he was alone.

“Yeah,” He replied, turning back around and silently organizing supplies in the drawers of a starkly-clean worktop. She bit the inside of her cheek and sucked in a breath.

“I’m really sorry about your mom. I had no idea,” Heartley said softly, fiddling with her fingers a bit.

“It’s fine,” He murmured, not peeling his eyes away from the supplies ahead of him. “It was a long time ago.”

She tapped her fingers against her thighs, turning and pushing the button that shut the door of the medbay. Simon turned and looked at her in confusion.

“Where do you think Riot actually is?” She deadpanned.

Simon sighed, shrugging. “I don’t have a clue. Did you hear that Alec put out a vault-wide message about him? Showed up on my dads terminal earlier.”

“Yeah, my mom got it in her lab. Pretty funny that he labeled him ‘DNI, potentially dangerous’.” Heartley stated, glancing down. “Please tell me I’m not the only one who thinks he… maybe…”

“Made a few too many enemies? I hate to admit it, but it’s been floating around in the back of my mind, too,” He said slowly, leaning lightly against one of the rolling stretchers.

“Yeah…” Heartley muttered. “If he left the vault, there would be-“

“Alarms and stuff? Yeah, I thought about that when Alec was taking out his pent up anger on us,” Simon ran a hand through his dark hair, huffing. “Scout usually knows where Riot is even if he goes dark to the rest of us. And the fact that Scout doesn’t know worries me.”

Riot did have a habit of going dark. He had ever since they entered the vault. Scout always knew why and where, but he didn’t this time, which made it all the worse. Made Heartley and Simon’s deepest, darkest assumptions feel a little closer to reality.

“You know, we could… check the security terminal. See if the vault door was opened recently or not. Check if they have any files on Riot…”

Simon glanced up at her, creasing his brow. “You want to break in to the security office?”

She shifted. “No, I want answers. How I get them is different. At least if we know the door hasn’t been opened then he has to be inside.”

Simon ran a hand through his hair again. “How do you expect us to do that? Security is riddled with Coursers.”

“We just need to get them out of the room for a little bit, not slay them like Grognak. There are plenty of ways to do that.”

Simon snorted. “Like what?”

Heartley threw her arms up. “Like, we could blow something up.”

“With what?”

“Or we could… cause a power outage,”

“And shut off the terminal we need?”

“We can… poison them all!”

“If you want to be a spy, go ahead,” Simon chuckled. “But I just thought of a fool-proof way to get them running wherever we want.”

Heartley put her hands on her hips, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “And what’s that?”

—

Bela Devaroux, in all her black bob and blue eyed glory, pounded on the security room door at the front of the vault with as much urgent force as she could muster. It was night, ten pm on a Thursday, so the squad inside was short by two. “Hey! Hey!”

The metal door slid open, revealing two men in a white security uniform like Jackson Hannigan. There was a third, a Courser in the back corner, waiting for orders like an attack dog.

“What do you need, lady?”

“I just saw- I just saw Riot Kildare! And he had… he had a gun and… and something that looked like a bomb! Going into the residential sector! Please!” Bela’s bright blue eyes were wide and brimming at the bottom with fear as she pointed. “Please, I’m scared he’s gonna hurt people!”

The guards looked at one another skeptically. “Look, are you sure it was him?”

“Yes, I’m sure, he’s one of my regulars!” She shouted, sounding almost crazed. “Please, please, go!”

The security officers shared another glance, until the one at the door finally muttered. “Come on, Z9. Stay here until we come back, ma’am.”

The three of them jogged past a frantic Bela, heading back toward the Atrium. Once their footsteps echoed away, the girl snickered and cocked a hip, glancing at her nails. “Too easy.”

Heartley and Simon drifted out of the shadows, and Heartley handed Bela a bag of caps. “Thanks, you’re the best.”

Bela took the bag and weighed it slightly. “Hey, I’m doing it for Riot. I hope you find out where he is.”

Heartley smiled lightly, and Bela did, too, disappearing back into the main area of the vault. Simon nudged Heartley’s shoulder.

“Go. I’m sure they won’t leave this place empty for long,”

Heartley, without a reply, walked into the security room, steel gray eyes bouncing from the lockers, to the row of desks, to the terminal that sat on a nearby table.

“You better know how to unlock this thing,” She stated, crossing her arms as Simon hunched over the terminal in his lab coat.

“Trust me, terminal security is not the most secure thing in the world. A kid could break it if they payed enough attention to the words,” He replied. “It might take a minute, though.”

Heartley sighed, walking around the small security room, glancing at the empty coffee cups and clipboards that sat around. She wondered if Coursers drank coffee.

After a high-pitched, happy beep echoed through the room, Simon stated: “I’m in.”

Heartley drifted up by Simon’s side, bumping her shoulder against his. “That took way less than a minute.”

“Just preparing you for the worst,” He snickered. Heartley glanced down at the terminal screen ahead of them. There were four separate categories.

[INCIDENT LOGS]

[VAULT ACCESS LOGS]

[OPEN EVACUATION TUNNEL]

[MANUAL DOOR OVERRIDE]

Simon quickly navigated down to the Vault Access logs, clicking the file open. A blur of green words danced across the screen.

VAULT OPENED - 8/22/2077

VAULT SEALED - 8/22/2077

VAULT OPENED - 4/12/2217

VAULT SEALED - 2/1/2278

Heartley’s heart sunk as she scanned the worlds, and Simon sucked in a sudden breath.

“2278 was ten years ago, when we arrived. It… hasn’t been opened since then. Since they closed us in,”

Heartley stood up straight and ran a hand through her hair. That meant Riot was inside. Which meant, the odds of him having been killed raised exponentially. She got kind of dizzy thinking about it.

“But that… doesn’t mean he’s dead,” Simon clarified, backing out of the logs on the terminal. “He’s probably just… hiding. Or something. Riot’s weird.”

Heartley nodded in response even though he wasn’t looking at her. He navigated to the Incident Logs and opened them, and a huge list of names popped up. People who’d been put in confinement, she supposed. It was no surprise most of her friend group was at the top.

SCOUT BANELLI RIOT KILDARE TUESDAY JONES CHICAGO DUNBAR JERICHO AVANS BELA DEVAROUX JOHNNY HAILEN SANDY DEANGELO JUNE HOLLAND

She scrunched her nose. “Tuesday was in confinement?”

Is that how he knew Scout was, too?

Simon had the same look on his face. “I didn’t know he got in trouble. He’s like, the epitome of best-behavior.”

He clicked on the most recent file, Scout’s, and an entry almost ten pages long appeared.

“Geez, Scout sure has his hands dirty,” Simon stated, clicking all the way to the end for the most recent infringement.

8/5/2288

SCOUT BANELLI AND TUESDAY JONES WERE TAKEN INTO CUSTODY AT 0300 HOURS FOR THE ALLEGED ASSAULT AND BATTERY OF SCOUT’S FATHER, HENRY BANELLI. HE SUFFERED SEVERAL BLOWS TO THE HEAD AND TORSO. TUESDAY IS TO BE RELEASED AT 0800 HOURS ON THE SAME DAY, SCOUT IS TO BE RELEASED AT 1200 HOURS AFTER TWO CONSECUTIVE DAYS IN CONFINEMENT. NO FURTHER ACTIONS ARE TO BE TAKEN REGARDING THIS CASE.

Heartley quickly scanned the file. “Why didn’t they tell us?”

“Because Tuesdays scared,” Simon stated simply. “He’s never gotten in trouble before. Saying our fathers reaction would be catastrophic would be putting it lightly.”

“Does he think we’ll tattle?”

“No,” He huffed, backing out of the file and clicking on Tuesday’s. It had the exact same message on the screen. “He’s just afraid to tell anybody. Don’t know why I’d be included in that.”

She could hear the annoyance building in his tone as he backed out of the file and clicked on Riot’s. He also had a hefty amount of pages, so Simon navigated to the most recent one.

8/3/2288

RIOT KILDARE WAS TAKEN INTO CUSTODY AT 2100 HOURS FOR THE ALLEGED ASSAULT AND BATTERY OF DR. LEANNE HATHAWAY. SHE SUFFERED MINOR BLOWS TO THE HEAD AND TORSO. RIOT IS TO BE RELEASED AT 1200 HOURS AFTER ONE DAY IN CONFINEMENT.

“Uh, Heartley?” Simon questioned. As she finished reading the report, she leaned forward against the desk to read it again.

“Riot beat up my mom? And she didn’t say anything?” She questioned, brown knitted together in the center.

“She probably didn’t want you to be mad at him.”

“Why in the world would he do that?”

“Could’ve been high, I guess,”

Heartley huffed. “Riot doesn’t get high anymore, only Scout.”

“Could’ve relapsed,” Simon suggested, clicking off the file and navigating down to Chicago’s.

8/1/2288 CHARLIE “CHICAGO” DUNBAR WAS TAKEN INTO CUSTODY AT 2300 HOURS FOR THE USE OF ILLEGAL PRE-WAR CIGARETTES INSIDE OF THE VAULT. SHE IS TO BE RELEASED AT 1200 HOURS ON THE SAME DAY.

“Too bad. I always thought Scout or Riot would be the one that got caught with cigarettes,” Simon hummed, backing out and clicking on Jericho’s, hopefully more interesting, file.

8/4/2288

JERICHO AVANS WAS TAKEN INTO CUSTODY AT 0100 HOURS FOR CAUSING A DISTURBANCE ON THE SECOND FLOOR OF THE ATRIUM. HE WAS UNCONSCIOUS WHEN TAKEN TO CONFINEMENT, AND STAYED THAT WAY UNTIL HIS RELEASE AT 1200 HOURS THE NEXT DAY. WE WERE UNABLE TO GET A TESTIMONIAL FROM HIM OR ANYBODY ELSE ON THE DETAILS OF THE INCIDENT.

“That’s not vague at all,” Heartley snickered, running a hand through her hair. “So now we know that Riot has to be inside the vault, and that he supposedly tried to beat up my mom a couple days ago. I’d be lying if I said any of this makes his disappearance clearer.”

“Yeah, I feel you,” Simon replied, backing out of the terminal and locking it back up. “C’mon, let’s get out of here before-“

“Before someone sees what you’re up to?”

Both Heartley and Simon flinched, whirling around to face the door. Heartley hoped it was a trick, that it was one of their friends prancing them, but when her eyes met the ugly, dark ones of Jackson Hannigan, SRB Head of Security, all hope died in her veins.

The man chuckled coldly. “Looks like we’ll be adding two more names to those reports, huh?”

#oc; heartley #mb; crash and burn #fallout oc #fallout four oc #fo4 oc #preston x oc #vaultdweller #enclave #the commonwealth #commonwealth #the institute

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lonely-vault-boy · 2 years ago

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Pt 2. Capitano

About the Jester:

Our relationship is one of mutual respect. It is not my place to disclose his secrets.

About the Doctor:

Though we disagree frequently, I would trust his research with my life. As for the man himself however…

About Damslette:

She is not what you think, though she is a dear friend of mine. Please, be careful when you try to approach her. Her moods may be…fickle.

About the Knave:

That woman lacks honor and courage. I do not get along with her at all. The only thing we have in common is our distaste for that weasel.

About the Rooster:

He is fiercely protective of those he cares about. As for those he doesn’t…well, they’re not exactly around to take it personally.

About the Marionette:

She spends most of her time in her lab. To be honest, I’ve never talked much with her.

About the Fair Lady:

Dishonorable as I may find her methods, Rosalyne believed in Her Majesty’s cause more than any of us. I wish her soul the rest it finally deserves.

About Regrator:

I see no need to speak of such unpleasant topics.

About Childe:

Ah, the small one. I put in great effort to avoid him, lest I cause him distress. The first time I introduced myself to him, he froze up and seemed to be on the verge of tears. I do not like causing others to panic, though I cannot always avoid it.

Pt. 3 Dottore (idk Cap’s were short)

About the Jester:

Despite what you may think, I am grateful to him. He gave me a chance to peruse my research in peace, and just look at all the progress I have made since!

About the Captain:

I may do routine checkups on him, but I have yet to find out what makes him tick. Unfortunately, the recruit I made stick an arm inside his helmet still hasn’t recovered mentally or physically, so that process is on hold for the time being.

About the Doctor:

Hm? A boat…I have no memory of such a thing. Omega failed to mention it in his report, so I can only assume it was one of my segments who was so crudely deleted.

About Damslette:

Nice try, but I learned long ago to watch my step around her.

About the Knave:

We have a mutual understanding. Our business is confidential, so don’t worry your little head about it.

About Pulcinella:

As the saying goes, you catch more children with honey than with arsenic. I admire his methods, though he still refuses to let my experiment on his specimen.

About the Balledeer:

One cannot simply change the passage of time by deleting their meaningless existence. Though that puppet’s ego has damaged my reputation as a scholar in front of my own archon, I cannot deny that he had his own value as a test subject. How foolish that he thinks himself mighty enough to effect the flow of the ley lines. Ah well, it doesn’t matter. A true scholar is always pursuing other manners of study, that is to say, what has become of him is irrelevant to both me and the fate of Teyvat.

About the Marionette:

Hmph. A wannabe inventor. I could do better in my sleep. Although I do think her idea of an army of Tartaglia clone’s has merit. Just think of the havoc they could create. After all, it is when we are against the largest threats that our true powers come out. I do wonder what power our enemies could be hiding.

About the Fair Lady:

A pity, really. I developed her delusion myself. Well, I suppose the same could be said for the rest of the Harbingers as well, but hers in particular posed a delightful level of challenge. Truly stimulating for the brain. Er, what were we discussing again?

About Regrator:

Don’t you know it’s unprofessional to pry into ones relations? Though our arrangement may be mutually beneficial, it does not permit you to know the intricacies of my life. Though I suppose as far as rumors go, we do work quite well together.

About Childe:

One of the best parts about young subjects is how bright-eyed and bushy-tailed they are at first, before all of that is torn away to reveal a subject’s true form. Though he is eager to serve, Tartaglia unfortunately lacks the innocence I do so enjoy crushing. That, and, despite my essays on the subject, the Fifth refuses to let me dissect him. Honestly, it’s more like modification than decimation anyway. I would return him in one piece. Truly a pity.

For context, I view Pierro as sort of disconnected, Capitano as honorable despite his profession (it’s a job and a war to fight, it’s not for fun), and Dottore as 50% unhinged and distracted and 50% smug bastard. He’s talking abt super weird fucked uo shit, but ofc a peasant like u wouldn’t understand. 😤🤚

Making fake harbinger voicelines bc I’m bored: Pierro edition

About the Captain:

He is truly a righteous and loyal commander. He treats his subordinates with compassion and encourages them to be their best selves. He is a true leader, unlike another captain I once knew…

About the Doctor:

In this war, no expense must be spared. Though his methods may be viewed as questionable, his results speak for themselves. He is one of my oldest allies, and I trust him to complete the tasks assigned to him.

About Damslette:

Her business is not mine to share, however I know she believes strongly in my cause. If only the same could be said for her other half…

About the Knave:

Hm? Tartaglia thinks she has the makings of a traitor? Honestly, I don’t really care what her motivations are, so long as she remembers that ours is the side she wants to be on. If not…I’d be more than willing to put her down myself.

About the Rooster:

He is a figurehead for the people of Snezhnaya, even more so than myself. Though I do hope he knew what he was doing when he brought us that boy…

About the Balladeer:

Ah, you appear surprised that I recall his existence. Well, haven’t you wondered how the Fatui know so much about forbidden knowledge? Memories aside, a former companion of mine has been keeping a very close eye on your travels…

About the Marionette:

The Katherine network was a work of genius. If only she could recreate that genius in some of her other works.

About the Fair Lady:

It truly is a shame what happened to Roselyne. She knew the risks that came with being a harbinger. Still, she was a valuable asset to us…and a kindred soul. May she Rest In Peace.

About the Regrator:

As long as he does his job, I could care less what shenanigans he gets up to. At least the Doctor seems to be fond of him, because he might be the only one.

About Childe:

I still think having him around is dangerous, but I can’t deny his willingness to serve Her Majesty. Also…I’m not quite sure how to connect with him.

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usernoneexistent · 2 years ago

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𝒟ℯ𝓁𝒾𝓁𝒶𝒽 𝒪𝓁ℯ𝓉𝒽ℯ𝒶 𝒮𝓌ℯℯ𝓉𝓈

Delilah is another product of a family of 'mad' wizarding geniuses. The Sweets have always encouraged and cultivated academic intelligence in their family though their name has been the latest gossip in the New York scene due to their recent accumulated wealth. As 'new money', many unwelcomed them except for the Rosewoods whom they've always had a tight friendship ever since then. As a young girl, alchemy had always intrigued as the perfect mix of science and magic and her dream is to become a alchemist and paving the way for more girls. Delilah did two exchange years to Hogwarts to be able to properly study alchemy since Ilvermorny did not meet the demands as a subject for HAREs.

𝒫𝓇ℴ𝒻𝒾𝓁ℯ

Nicknames: Lilah or Deli by close family and friends.

Born: 31st December 1880.

Hometown: Manhattan, New York, NY, USA

Nationality/Ethnicity: American white - English & Canadian ancestry.

Language(s) spoken: English (American), moderate Latin and little bit of French.

Accent: Mid-Atlantic/Transatlantic

Blood status: half blood.

Gender identity: witch (she/her).

Sexuality: demisexual.

Face claim: Tiassa Farmiga.

𝒫ℯ𝓇𝓈ℴ𝓃𝒶𝓁

Myers-Briggs Type: ISTP (The virtuoso).

Alignment: true neutral.

Strengths: intelligent, practical, creative, calm under pressure, optimistic.

Weaknesses: private, quiet, straight laced, a little impatient, risk taker (for alchemy), occasionally clumsy.

Interests/hobbies: alchemy, wizarding chess, star gazing, tinkering potions, painting, knitting.

Favourite colour: gold.

Favourite food: cheese.

Favourite drink: oolong tea.

𝒜𝓅𝓅ℯ𝒶𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒸ℯ𝓈

Height: 1.63m/5'3ft as an adult.

Weight: 54kg/119lbs as an adult.

Hair: light warm brown, naturally wavy and hard to tame.

Eyes: light brown eyes.

Skin: pale white.

Defects: none.

Style: simple yet elegant expensive dresses though she wears an apron often to avoid stains from tinkering.

𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒸𝒽𝒸𝓇𝒶𝒻𝓉

Wand: Laurel and white river monster spine.

(It is said that a laurel wand cannot perform a dishonourable act, although in the quest for glory (a not uncommon goal for those best suited to these wands), I have known laurel wands perform powerful and sometimes lethal magic. Laurel wands are sometimes called fickle, but this is unfair. The laurel wand seems unable to tolerate laziness in a possessor, and it is in such conditions that it is most easily and willingly won away. Otherwise, it will cleave happily to its first match forever, and indeed has the unusual and engaging attribute of issuing a spontaneous lightning strike if another witch or wizard attempts to steal it.)

Animagus form: owl.

Patronus: seagull.

Patronus memory: watching the stars with Bertie.

Boggart: all potions and alchemy are going wrong (feeling helpless).

Riddikulus: everything is correct and going smoothly.

Amortentia (what does she smell?): honey, falling rain, apricots, vanilla and old books.

Amortentia (what does she smell like?): metallic, smoke, lavender, and honeysuckle.

Magical abilities: verballess magic and wandless magic for practicality.

𝒜𝓉 ℐ𝓁𝓋ℯ𝓇𝓂ℴ𝓇𝓃𝓎

I took the idea for Ilvermorny subjects from here.

Ilvermorny house: Horned Serpent.

Best subjects: transfiguration, arithmancy, astronomy.

Worst subjects: flying & Latin.

Elective classes (3rd year choice): arithmancy, astronomy, magical linguistics, Latin.

Native or foreign magic classes (4th year choice): ancient Egyptian rituals.

Social science class (5th Year choice): magical history of China and Japan.

Quodpot position: none.

Extracurricular: wizarding chess club.

𝒜𝓉 ℋℴ𝓰𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓈

Hogwarts house: none (She is only there for two years but is residing with the Hufflepuffs though she is a Ravenclaw at heart).

Best subjects: all except one.

Worst subjects: herbology is the weakess link in her NEWTs but still fairly good.

N.E.W.Ts: alchemy, astronomy, charms, transfiguration, herbology, potions.

Extracurricular: wizarding chess club & art club.

𝒜𝒻𝓉ℯ𝓇 ℋℴ𝓰𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓈/ℐ𝓁𝓋ℯ𝓇𝓂ℴ𝓇𝓃𝓎

Age 18-?: Apprentice alchemist.

Age ?-?: Fully fledged alchemist.

Age ?-?: Wrote updated alchemy textbooks with help from Nicolas Flamel's wife Perenelle.

ℛℯ𝓁𝒶𝓉𝒾ℴ𝓃𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅𝓈

Family:

Maximus & Umbelina Sweets (parents) - Delilah has a fairly good relationship though they aren't the most warmest people she knows they love her. Maximus is of british decent while Umbelina is partly French canadian though they immigrated to America due to the lax laws for patents. Both parents are considered odd or even 'mad' by society but Delilah always thought them as normal. They're both tinkerers and invented numerous things both useful and useless but it was the magical extender traintracks for steam trains that made them bank.

Horace Sweets (brother) - Due to the 10 year age gap, Horace and Delilah don't have a very close relationship as they were both raised a only children. He's always had a more cold person.

Priscilla Sweets née Appletree (sister-in-law) - Delilah is fairly close to Priscilla due to their closeness on age. She is opposite of her husband in personality and is often the one who makes up for the family's lack of social life.

Theodore Sweets (nephew) - A carbon copy of Horace but he does have his mother's romantic side. Delilah adores her nephew and spoils him.

Aileen Sweets née Moss (niece-in-law) - Delilah struggles to get along with her roudiness and lack of manners but doesn't see the issues with the different social classes that Horace has.

Friends:

Winona Rosewood - Delilah and Winona have known each other since diapers. They are frequent pen pals and visit each other when one of their families comes to their home country for a holiday.

Glenn Rosewood - She respects his intellect and supports his endeavours to being more just. Though she would never snitch to him.

Euphemia Macnair - Drawn to the Slytherin's natural quiet nature, they have a friendship where they can be in silence for hours and be content with it.

Ema McGiliguddy @kc-and-co - Ema and Delilah go way back to their time at Ilvermorny. Though Delilah witnessed Ema's expulsion, she would never tell anyone nor spread anything about that day.

Héloïse Perrault @the-al-chemist - They love a good nerd talk about astronomy and Transfiguration. Delilah picked up a little French from her mother but languages isn't her strong suit.

Victoria Summers @whatwouldvalerydo - They meet through Winona and became quickly friends since Winona would invite Delilah regularly.

Persephone Gould @cursebreakerfarrier - Intrigued by the eccentric but fascinating Ravenclaw, Delilah is fascinated by Persephone's activities and a fan of her books.

Violette Durand @cursed-herbalist - Delilah was happy to find a fellow like minded girl in alchemy and later work a lot together after Hogwarts.

Love interest:

Albert 'Bertie' Burke @madelineorionswan - They started out as friends first meeting sixth year through Winona who kinda pushed them together though the bashful teens remained friends throughout the last years at Hogwarts. After graduation, Delilah moved to America before deciding to live in Britain. There, she and Bertie reconnected and fell in love.

Pets:

Athena 'Thena', a well trained red squirrel that is also her assistant.

Rivals:

While Delilah personally never sees anyone as rivals, she can get competitive in certain things.

29 notes · View notes

adonis-koo · 5 years ago

Text

Blue Spring

| 1 |

↳ Summary: Jeon Jungkook, only well known as the youngest (and hottest) dad at the daycare, he’s got it all, the looks, the sweetheart personality, the body, but here’s what gets everyone- he doesn’t wear a wedding ring. The only problem lies in his fickle one year old daughter that hates just about every daycare worker out there...Well...besides you that is. Which of course leads to Jungkook liking you just as much as his daughter...if not maybe a little too much.

Or in other words...You and Jungkook are secretly crushing on one another but too shy to admit it.

↳ Pairing: Single dad!Jungkook/Reader

↳ Genre: Daycare AU, Slice of life, copious amounts of fluff, a hair of angst, future smut

Word Count: 4K

___ | Next

Seven thirty sharp. Your mind was groggy and you couldn’t stop the yawn that escaped your lips, you had stayed up too late the night before studying due to a test you’d have later today without even thinking about the shift you promised your coworker you’d cover. So here you were at First Steps 7:30 in the morning, coffee in hand and your hair in a messy bun.

You hadn’t even bothered getting changed besides your fitness pants. Outside of that you were still dawned in your oversized university sweatshirt. At least you’d be with the kids most of the day, one of the perks of working at a daycare was you rarely had to get dressed up.

Another perk was during naptime you could squeeze in a little more time to look over your notes, but maybe you shouldn’t get ahead of yourself considering you only slept six hours and currently look like you just rolled out bed.

Opening the door to the entrance you were greeted with the sound of cartoons, a morning routine while all the kids had their breakfast snack and got out their energy while playing. What drowned out the volume however was a familiar loud screech and whine from a little pair of arms that attached herself to the much larger figure.

“Awwwh, poor baby.” You cooed as you kneeled down, your lips quirking into a pout at the all too familiar sight, “Mina! Daddy has to go to work, he’ll be back for you later”

The little one year old suddenly perked up at the sound of your voice making you laugh softly before she quickly toddled over to you as best she could, fat crocodile tears dribbling down her cheeks as she threw herself dramatically against your chest making your lips pull into a big animated pout, “Awh it’s okay baby! Poor thing, it always takes her at least ten minutes to stop crying anytime you go.”

You picked her up, maneuvering her up to your hip as you kept her balanced in one hand, turning to fully face the tall man who you had grown acquainted too, “She’d probably cry the whole time if it weren’t for you Y/n, really thank you.” Jungkook gave an endearing smile as he let his little girl wrap her tiny hand around his finger, tears still dribbling down her cheeks as whines escaped her.

Mina, was a tough one. When new kids came in it was usually guaranteed they’d have a little separation anxiety from their parents, especially if it was the first they had ever done something like this. Usually it was recommended that the parent only leave them for an hour or so at first before they started dropping them off full time but that wasn’t always the case.

Regardless, you were both used to it and trained for it. You could almost always coax a child into looking over at the toy wall to find something they liked, or maybe they liked being read aloud too. And with particularly hard ones, you’d even let them pick out a movie if it was movie hour. But almost always, after a child was initially acquainted to you, they’d let you at least hold them or maybe coax them to play with you.

Mina, was one of the few exceptions. She had major separation anxiety from her dad and did not want any of the workers holding her- even trying to play with her. You had heard plenty about the ‘cryer’ in your work’s group chat as various staff who had worked the days she was here tried to figure out how to handle her. Then, you finally met her.

She looked doe eyed, hugging onto her dad's leg when you kneeled down and introduced yourself with a bright yet sincere smile.

You weren’t sure if it was how you said hello to her, or if it was the way you smelled like your favorite lotion, but for some reason this little girl was stuck to you like glue ever since, “You know you're her favorite right?” Jungkook joked the dimple on his cheek showing as he gave a rather boyish- yet charming smile. He was a sweetheart, through and through, you could tell how much he cared for his daughter and it only added to his charm further.

“Well, it is a part of the job,” You glanced up at him returning a tiny smile of your own as you shrugged.

You’d deny all of your coworkers giggly words and raised eyebrows anytime you were in the same room as them when Jungkook dropped Mina off. You’d also deny that you were almost always flustered in his presence, Jungkook was young, like young. He could have only been five years older than you at most. If not closer to your age.

And it wasn’t like you were blind either, he was obviously attractive. He was the talk of your coworkers day, mainly because he had a child, right? But here’s the thing, he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.

At first you were the rational one, maybe he just had a girlfriend and they were going to tie the knot eventually? Or maybe they were one of those couples that didn’t believe in marriage. Chloe had proposed that maybe he wasn’t a jewelry type of guy and always forgot to put it on. Or maybe they were a couple that did something unorthodox like wedding bracelets.

It was Lisa who chimed in last, reminding you both that this was the dad who had his ears completely punctured with over four piercings on each side. He was definitely a jewelry kind of guy.

So why wouldn’t he wear whatever jewelry they chose as their wedding bond?

Regardless, the reason your coworkers constantly winked in your direction was because it was obvious Mina had taken a liking to you, which meant Jungkook had as well...Maybe a little too well, according to them at least.

The rest was self explanatory.

“Still, Mina’s a big daddy’s girl. I felt awful leaving her here all day the first few weeks.” Jungkook gave a bashful smile as he set the large backpack down, Jeon Mina labeled on the front which held all her favorite snacks, diapers and any possible blankets or stuffies she’d need or want from home. You usually didn’t go digging around through bags but it usually helped if a parent brought in something from home. Especially for ones like Mina who could really benefit from it.

“Oh I can tell,” You gave a laugh as Mina, as if sensing she was being talked about broke into tears again as her little hand tightened on her dad’s finger, “Oh honey, shhh,” You bounced her a little on your hip with a coo before glancing up once more, “But it’s a transitional stage for her, for any of them who tend to have separation anxiety. You might feel awful but I promise it’s fine, it’s something they all go through and adjust to as they get older. I see it all the time.”

Jungkook smiled a little at your reassurance, something about him just looked so endearingly boyish still despite being a fully grown man, maybe it was the little dimple that appeared on his cheek or the beauty mark just beneath his lower lip, “I know, it still doesn’t make it any easier though,” Just as he said those words he sighed a little as he glanced over at the clock, “Anyways I need to head on to work, I will see you later.”

Mina as if sensing his departure immediately began crying once more as he pressed a kiss on her forehead, your heart speeding up a little at him being so close, the strong scent of cologne meeting your nose before quickly disappearing. Mina had tried her best to hold onto her dad’s finger as he easily pulled away, giving a semi guilty smile at the wallowing drama queen he called his daughter as he gave you another smile and nod before exiting.

Setting your coffee down against the counter you sighed, taking a deep breath as you held Mina in both arms, her little face thrown down against your shoulder as she pitifully cried against you. Nothing like being clung to first thing in the morning before you could even drink a full cup of coffee. God you had so much respect for mothers.

“I just think, if the opportunity is there, and if he’s single...why not take it?” Lisa raised her brows as she coaxingly tried to convince you of an honestly, unprofessional idea.

Sighing you pinched the bridge of your nose as Mina colored beside you- well, if scribbling with a colored pencil counted as coloring, “Lisa, that’s a horrible idea. We don’t know if he’s single or not, and honestly? It’s none of my business. Besides he’s a dad, I don’t know….” You paused your words as you glanced around before lowering your voice into a whisper, “I don’t know shit about parenting.”

Chloe clacked her tongue as she leaned back in her seat, the tiny cherry red kids chair which almost all of you sat in rather than fight over who got to sit in the big chair, often making kids think they could sit on it in which they’d be disappointed in the result, “Y/n we work with kids everyday.” She cut into the conversation deadpan.

Leave it to Chloe to point out the obvious but working with kids or not that wasn’t even close to the same thing.

“Yeah, but we don’t live with them, Chloe, we don’t have to discipline them everyday, we don’t have to call the doctor when they get sick or- or tuck them in at night or let them sleep with us when they have a nightmare- being a caretaker and a parent might be similar but they aren’t the same.” You tapped your coloring pencil against the page of the coloring sheet Mina had picked out for you, well more like the first one she could find and drag out before slapping it against the table and pointing at a chair. If she could speak you were certain she’d be demanding for you to sit.

Having a tiny child boss you around all day wasn’t the greatest job in the world but it could certainly be worse.

“Honestly, who said anything about parenting? I mean...a flings a fling-” Chloe paused, glancing over at the four year olds who were all playing before lowering her voice and leaning in a little, “You’ve seen his body and he’s clearly interested in you, how can you not see it?”

You could feel your face flush as you looked away from her, scowling at the table. How can they talk about this in front of his daughter! Albeit she was only one years old and looked perfectly happy scribbling her piece of paper, even going as far as to help you color yours as well.

Swallowing thickly you lowered your voice before exasperatedly hissing, “I am not messing with that! It would be different if he was actively trying to talk to me but I don’t think that’s what he’s going for.”

Lisa raised her brows almost looking offended at your words, had it not been for one of the four year olds calling for her you were positive she would’ve went on a massive rant about how dumb you were, “Uh he always talks to you when he’s here? How much more does he have to beg for your attention Y/n?- Coming Wi Joo.” Standing up she huffed before making her way over to where the kids were.

Speak of the devil you were surprised at who had poked their head through the door, Jungkook had stayed behind watching with a soft smile at his little girl happily coloring beside you, tugging on your finger to make you look at her picture as you nodded, leaning in as you whispered, “I think someone is here for you.” Mina glanced up as you pointed your finger to the door.

You had never seen a toddler look so frantic as she cried in happiness, Jungkook never came by this early so it must have been a treat. Unfortunately Mina was still clumsy on her feet and tripped on her way to her dad before dramatically rolling onto her back as she cried.

“Oh my goodness!” Jungkook exclaimed as he walked in with a chuckle as he glanced down with precious eyes at his baby who glanced up at him with foe crocodile tears, purposely acting like she was hurt so he’d pick her up, “Is my babygirl okay?” He leaned down before effortlessly picking her up, her crying immediately stopped as a giggle bubbled on her lips as if feeling she had successfully tricked her dad into picking her up, “Was she good?”

Jungkook had asked as he turned to you, standing up as you rounded the table with a nod, “Oh yeah! A little fussy this morning but I think it was because she hadn’t had a snack yet, not to mention she was pretty upset for you leaving. I think all is forgiven though since you came by early.”

Laughing Jungkook nodded as he shifted her to his hip, “Yeah I only had a half day at work, so I figured I’d take her to get some lunch before dropping her off at her moms. She’ll probably be mad at me again but what can I do?”

“Uh Y/n- Ji Woo puked, you mind getting us some more paper towels?” You cringed as you looked over at Lisa who had pulled a crying Ji Woo along to the bathroom as Chloe hearded the other kids away from the mess.

“Oh she’ll survive. She loves to be a drama queen though, right Mina?” You poked her cheek making a giggle escape her lips as she grabbed your finger with both of her hands, a bubble escaping her lips as if she were trying her hardest to say something, little brows focused, “M…!” You laughed at her cute little focused expression, her doe eyes glancing at you like her little life depended on it, “Anyways, have a good day guys, I’ll see you later.”

You gave a short wave to them both, intending to go and get more paper towels because the sight of the bile was large and it was clear someone had still been motion sick even after the car ride. God didn’t his mom say she’d stop letting him eat in the car before taking him here?

“Oh uh!”

You turned around at the sound of Jungkook’s almost jumbled words, his eyes wide as if he had forgotten something before sharply forcing his voice to sound more calm, “I was uh wondering….” He suddenly looked a little hesitant, eyes glancing down as you raised your brows, “Umm, I...I promised my boss I’d come in on Saturday to help with a project and I really need a babysitter for Mina....Would you mind...if you aren’t busy of course!” He suddenly rushed. You tilted your head at first, mainly because it looked like he wanted to ask you something else but had changed his mind.

Tugging on a strand of your hair you quickly glanced over at the Chloe who had been telling the younger kids to stay away from the mess despite their ignorance, “Uh yeah! No, as long as you don’t mind me studying while watching her, um. I- uh- I...really need to go over and help...Let me uh-” You grabbed one of First Steps business cards before turning it over and using the back to write down your number, “Here, you can send me the details and we can work out pay a little later.”

Jungkook’s eyes lit up before he smiled, grabbing the card from you as he nodded, “Yes- absolutely! Thank you Y/n, I’ll uh,” He gave a small laugh as he glanced over to your frantic coworker, “I’ll leave you to it, say bye Mina.” He grabbed her little arm as he made her wave making you laugh as you quickly ran over to help Chloe.

Maybe...just maybe your coworkers were onto something.

You swallowed thickly, feeling only slightly intimidated at the size of the house. Jungkook couldn’t have been in his thirties already, right? I mean, you knew he was definitely older than you but still...there was no way someone in their twenties could already afford to live somewhere so nice. Right?

Meanwhile you were stuffed in a small apartment close to the uni with three roommates who all lived on ramen, you included. Fixing the bag over your shoulder you took an inhale before stepping up to the door and knocking, it was only a few moments before the door swung open. Much to your surprise you were met with a wet headed Jungkook, dawned in sweatpants and a loose white shirt that still somehow strapped against his broad shoulders, “Oh good you’re here! Come in.”

Jungkook ushered as he stood aside, carefully you took your shoes off as Jungkook waved you over, “Mina is in the living room right now watching cartoons, she’s never hungry this early in the morning but she has some chocolate milk, um, oh yeah, she’ll probably want breakfast around nine or so. I have some cereal in the dolly if you want an easy way out,” Jungkook had lead you into the kitchen- the very nice kitchen, granite countertops, smooth tile flooring and a spacious middle counter, “But I also have plenty of ingredients if you wanna be adventurous and making pancakes or anything- word of advice she’s picky about eggs.” Jungkook sent a playful wink your way making your face flair up as you gave a laugh- though it felt more nervous than anything.

“Also, feel free to eat as well, I don’t want you to starve while you’re here,” Jungkook continued, eyes genuine as he paused for a moment, making you nod before he gestured you into the living room, the lights were all turned off and the curtains had yet to be drawn making the room much more dark than it appeared except for the TV.

Your heart was ready to melt at the pile of blankets on the couch, Mina was practically buried in them happily, her stuffed bear she always carried with her nestled against her as she sleepily yawned, “I’m not really a restrictive parent when it comes to TV but if it’s grating on your sanity you can feel free to turn it off at any time, she’ll be a little whiney about it but there’s plenty of toys in her room, speaking of,”

You passed into the hallway with Jungkook as he walked all the way down to the end, opening the door into a much brighter and frilly room decked in light princess pink, toys scattered across the floor, “All of her coloring and markers are in her closet, any toy she could possibly need is in here, she might insist it isn’t but trust me- it is. I usually put her down for a nap around after lunch and get her up around three or so before dinner. That pretty much covers everything. Since she’s home she probably won’t cry, I’ll be home around two or so anyways so I’m sure it’ll go by quick for her. Uh do you have any questions or…?”

“No! I mean, it sounds good to me. I wrestle with kids everyday when it comes to nap time so I doubt anything will be any more challenging than that. Uh otherwise I should be fine, I can always call if I have a problem but I’m not worried about it, Mina’s a good kid at daycare so I’m sure she’ll be fine at home. Is there anything you want me to make sure to do?” You asked as you both walked back down the hall

Jungkook gave it some thought for a moment before giving a shrug altogether, “No, I have complete faith you’ll be fine. I know you guys get to deal with a lot of bitchy parents but I’m not really….” he paused for a moment, looking away with a familiar expression to Mina whenever she was focused, “I trust you, that’s all.” Oh...your face flushed a little at his words, both of you paused for a second as you realized how close you were to him at the moment.

Why did this feel so domestic?

Jungkook looked like he just rolled out of bed...and so did you...it almost felt like it another universe rather then coming over to watch his daughter it was like you could be living together- No! No! No! Don’t let your mind go there! Both of you broke out of whatever tranced silence had took over at the gurgle of excitement. Blabber coming from Mina in excitement at the sight of you, her thumb escaping her lips as she dropped her blanket, toddling over to you before hugging your leg, “Awwwh goodmorning honey.” You couldn’t help but coo out, internally squealing at just how cute she was.

God you loved kids.

Picking her up she excitingly bounced against your hip before wrapping her tiny arms around you. Jungkook’s eyes crinkled a little at the sight, “Alright, if you’re set here then I better get going. I’ll be back soon.” He leaned in kissing Mina’s forehead as she cooed softly, clearly in contentment as he smiled once more before exiting the kitchen. Except unlike at daycare she stayed calm the whole time, maybe not even realizing he was gone. Instead, Mina chose to snuggle up against you as you laughed walking back into the living room before carefully sitting on the couch.

Glancing at the entry way you couldn’t help but wonder where Jungkook worked for him to be going in wearing such casual attire. He was usually a little more formal with his clothes, not suit and tie but well fitted jeans and maybe a button up. Clacking your tongue you forced yourself to relax, you were going to be here for over six hours, might as well get comfortable.

The hours did in fact go by fast, you had spent most of the morning studying before going into the kitchen, deciding you’d make plenty of breakfast for both you and Mina while splurging on premade french toast sticks in the freezer while making sausage to go.

Given Mina couldn’t talk yet it had been a little lonely within the hours but it was a good time spent on studying until she was suddenly out of sight and getting into something, or trying to fall off something, or...well...you get the idea.

Naptime was more difficult than you anticipated, especially given how easily she was knocked out at daycare, but then again she also used a lot more energy there when crying. Mina was in the comforts of her home and was not happy to be told it was naptime.

You never could get her in her room but she eventually lost the battle when she cuddled in your lap and eventually fell asleep, your text book in hand as you tiredly rubbed your eyes, yawning before forcing your eyelids back open.

You hadn’t even heard the door open until the sight of Jungkook quietly came into view, he was in silent awe at the sight, you looked picture perfect with Mina sleeping against you, he felt his heartrate spike when you noticed him, giving your own sleepy smile as he sat down next to you, not too close, but enough to get a good look at your tired features, “Was she good?”

You gave a tiny nod as you set the text book down, “Yeah, stubborn about naptime but here we are.”

Jungkook gave a soft laugh, mindful of his voice as he didn’t wanna wake his princess, eyes affectionate as he glanced down, “Sounds about right, I usually get a naptime too when she gets like this. Guess you found out she’s a big cuddler.”

“Oh yeah, she tried to toddle off a few times but she stuck to me most of the day. She’s never been this clingy at daycare but I can understand why.” You carefully shifted in your seat a little, trying to straighten yourself from your sunken position without waking her, it was silent for a moment before you decided to tread carefully, “So uh, where do you work Jungkook? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Oh no it’s fine, I work as a game developer for Bandai Namco. We’ve been working on a new expansion for the Soul series lately and we’re behind so I’ve been going in extra to try and get us ahead again. I wish I didn’t have too since Saturdays are the only days I get to really spend with Mina…” A twinge of guilt flickered on Jungkook’s face as he pressed his lips together, yet if you looked closer you could see he seemed almost sad, maybe disappointed in himself, “I um, I know you’re studying but...How about you? I’m assuming you’re in university right?”

You gave a small smile as you nodded, “Yeah, I’m studying in nursing right now,” You could tell he seemed a little taken aback by your answer making you laugh, “I know, a lot of people assume I’m in for teaching, especially sense that’s the norm for daycare workers, but…! I am hoping to get in at the children’s hospital, I love working with kids.”

“You’re great with them,” Jungkook hadn’t meant to let it slip from his mouth but it was too late, silence had taken over once more as you gave a shyer smile as Jungkook fumbled, cheeks beginning to dust pink, “I mean...uh! You are! You know how to calm them down and uh…Mina really likes you, so um, that counts for something. She’s really picky with people, you didn’t hear it from me but she really doesn’t even like her mom.”

You tried to laugh yet you couldn’t force it, something felt particularly taboo about laughing at that yet you didn’t know why. You couldn’t help but wonder why Mina’s mom couldn’t watch her. Or why Jungkook seemed so serious despite his joking tone, “Well I think deep down all kids secretly have a favorite parent,” You kept your tone light yet neutral, not wanting to tread on sensitive ground with whatever seemed to be going on with Jungkook’s significant other.

You weren’t sure what the story was but going off his words yesterday at the daycare he must have been divorced if Mina’s mom didn’t live with him. And give his joking- yet serious comment their relations must not have ended kindly.

“Fair enough, maybe it’s just me but I think I’m a pretty awesome dad.” Jungkook boasted with that boyish grin making you stifle your laugh. After the initial ice had been broken you both seemed to hold a conversation easily and before you had knew it the hours had slipped away from you. Mina eventually waking up from her nap only to gurgle in delight at the sight of her dad, crawling into his lap, “Oh I should probably get going,” you had checked your phone only for your eyes to widen at the time, “I promised my friends I’d help get snacks for movie night.”

Shifting in your seat as you stood up, Jungkook mirroring you leaving Mina on the couch with a whine in complaint, “Oh yeah of course! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you…!”

“No! It’s okay,” You rushed out, feeling your cheeks begin to warm as you rubbed your neck, “...I actually enjoyed myself…!” You shuffled in your spot feeling your throat become dry at the silence as you wracked your brain to find something else to say.

Jungkook cleared his throat, feeling a little meek as he rubbed his nose, “W-well um...maybe we can uh...maybe we can do this again sometime?” You felt your face burn at his shy expression, peering up at you hesitantly before continuing, “O-or maybe go out to eat sometime…? With Mina of course!” He rushed, “She’d be a little mad if we left her here.”

You couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped you despite the nervous butterflies in your stomach, “Of course she would...id...I’d like that a lot..!” Oh god, did he just ask you out? Your brain was wrecked with a million thoughts as you and Jungkook fumbled with your goodbyes. The warm air meeting your lunges with relief as you stepped outside before shoving your face into your hands. He asked you out! Jeon Jungkook, only the hottest dad at the daycare really just asked you out!

Sucking in another breath of air you couldn’t help but let the giddy grin tug on your lips. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea. Jungkook obviously liked you enough to try a date and...and why not not! Maybe your friends weren’t wrong after all.

Note: thank you all for being so patient with me! I know Blue Spring has been highly anticipated and the wait is over! It was originally meant to be a oneshot but it just got ridiculously long lmao so by popular choice it’s going to be a four part mini series! Please enjoy and let me know what you think!! 🖤

#bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #single dad jungkook #jungkook x y/n #jungkook imagine #jungkook au #jungkook x y/n smut #bts au

4K notes · View notes

yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years ago

Text

with this unruly heart of mine

in which we all wish our parents reacted the same way as Alcina does when one of her daughters comes out to her

title is from Unruly Hearts from The Prom because it fit

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

MERCUTIO

If love be rough with you, be rough with love. Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down. Give me a case to put my visage in. A visor for a visor. What care I What curious eye doth cote deformities? Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me.

Alcina read that line over and over again, but she still had no idea what the hell any of it really meant. She sighed and leaned back into the cushions of her seat. If she kept getting caught up on the literary meaning of every other paragraph then she would never finish this damned book.

She picked up the teacup sitting on the stand beside her chair and took a long sip. The tea was of sweet cinnamon on her tongue. It left a much better taste in her mouth than the rather gross relationship between Romeo and Juliet in this book. If the short amount of time the two knew each other wasn’t bad enough, the age gap made her teeth bare and nose wrinkle in disgust. What the hell was this William Shakespeare guy thinking when he wrote this?

The soft sound of bare feet padding against hardwood brought her back to the surface of complete awareness, her focus shifting away from the book and to the late-night arrival watching nearby.

A certain fly child stood, arm on the doorway. Her hair was shaggy from seemingly just waking up--or maybe she hadn’t slept at all in the first place. Unruly blonde locks were sticking up in various directions around her head, framing her face like an adolescent lion’s mane. The nightgown she wore was a size too big and drowning her thin frame.

The light from the fireplace made her golden-amber eyes look hollow.

“Mother?”

“Yes, dear?”

“May I sit with you?”

“Of course.”

Slower than she’d ever seen her move before, Bela inched her way onto the cushioned chair beside Alcina’s. She pulled her knees up her chest, bare toes poking over the edge of the seat, and Alcina regarded them with a scrunch of her nose.

“What have I told you about going around the castle barefoot?” Alcina chided gently.

Bela didn’t look away from the flickering fire in the fireplace. “I’m sorry, Mother.”

Something was bothering her.

Bela was a rather fickle little thing. Some days, she wanted to tell Alcina everything, every little fact of the new knowledge she had obtained from her books, all the small details of her latest stories or ideas. Other days, she put up walls and gave vague answers to questions prodded into her sensitive skin, curling into herself like a frightened snail afraid of being interrogated. This seemed to be something of the latter, and Alcina made a mental note to tread lightly to avoid upsetting her daughter.

“I don’t understand this at all,” Alcina said, waggling the book in her hands, trying to make small talk with her distressed child. She didn’t want to pry and further put Bela on edge more than she clearly was, but she couldn’t not do something about her bitter mood. What kind of mother would she be if she didn’t at least attempt to help with her kids’ problems?

“I can hardly make heads or tails of anything they’re saying,” she continued, hoping she wasn’t laying it on too thick.

Bela raised her head from her knees slightly. “What book is it?”

“Romeo and Juliet.”

There was a morbid snort. “How coincidental…”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Bela shook her head. “Lemme see. What part are you at?”

Alina pointed out the current line she had reread at least five times over without being able to discern the Shakespearean into modern-day language. Bela, however, looked it over once, scanned the other pieces of dialogue for context, nodded, then explained, “In this scene, Romeo, Mercutio, and Benvolio are sneaking into a party thrown by the Capulets by wearing masks to disguise themselves. Romeo is upset over Juliet and says he isn’t going to dance. Mercutio then teases him over this and turns all of Romeo’s words into gratuitous sexual metaphors to poke fun at him. Mercutio ends up going on this whole rant about Queen Mab of the fairies, who visits people in their dreams until Romeo and Benvolio cut in to get things back on track. Romeo also kinda foreshadows the entire play at one point. See? Right here: ‘I fear too early, for my mind misgives Some consequence yet hanging in the stars Shall bitterly begin his fearful date With this night’s revels, and expire the term Of a despisèd life closed in my breast By some vile forfeit of untimely death.’ I do believe that is hinting at his eventual fate of death.”

Alcina blinked at her for a moment before smiling fondly and rubbing her head. “Such a smart girl,” she cooed. “I could have never gotten that out of this .”

Bela smiled, but then it quickly disappeared, and she leaned back into her chair, curling up and watching the fire once again.

Now Alcina was really concerned. Bela was never one to let go of praise and affection so easily. Usually, she savored it a bit longer before moving onto something else, but here she was, brushing off Alcina’s words and touch as though they were nothing.

Something was very, very wrong.

However, before she had the chance to take the risk and attempt to ask questions, Bela spoke up.

“Have you ever been in love, Mother?”

Surprised, Alcina asked, “And what brought this up?”

Bela shrugged, not making eye contact. She kept looking at the fire as though she wanted to throw herself into it. Her voice was small, so small. “Just curious.”

“I see,” Alcina nodded. She looked up, thinking for a moment as she wracked her brain of the memories of her past life. “I have been in love before. Many times, actually.”

Bela gave her a curious look, finally pulling her gaze from the flames. “Really?”

“Indeed,” Alcina confirmed. “Though, I do believe that just comes with growing up. You gain lovers, you lose lovers. Some were real, some were fantasies I made up. Some lasted a few days, some a few months, some a few years.” She took a sip of her tea again. “None of them really mattered in the end, though. Clearly.” Another sip.

Bela nodded faintly. “Okay.”

“Have you ever been in love?” Alcina decided to ask.

Strangely, Bela went rigid. Her claws clenched around the sides of her calves as she stared forward with pupils that were constricted into pinpricks. Sweat beaded along the golden crown of her head.

“I-I-- umm…”

Alcina furrowed her eyebrows in worry. She closed Romeo and Juliet with a bookmark to mark her page, then set a hand on Bela’s back. Her daughter was trembling.

“Bela?” Alcina said, keeping her voice soothing and low to avoid setting off the poor girl even further. “Is everything alright? You don’t look well.”

“Yes, yes,” Bela answered her, much too quickly for it to be convincing. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Before Alcina could prod further, Bela shot up to her feet. She began to chew on one of her claws, flexing her free hand at her side in visible agitation. Pieces of her skin broke off into flies and buzzed around her head madly. She seemed to be dissociating in panic.

“Bela,” Alcina rose to her feet slowly, not wanting to accidentally frighten her daughter. “Bela, what’s wrong? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Bela said, even when she was so obviously far from fine. Her chest was beginning to heave.

“Darling,” Alcina said, and that seemed to get Bela to crack a bit.

With a tight whimper, Bela shook her head. “Hard-- hard to breathe--”

Instantly, Alcina loosely took Bela by the arms and lowered her to the ground. In the firelight, she could see the pallor of her daughter’s increasing panic as it morphed into a complete attack on her anxiety. Bela grabbed her wrists with her claws dug in for desperate grounding, and Alcina let her, even when it stung her skin. Her comfort was far from important in that moment.

“Alright, honey,” Alcina said. “We’re going to do the thing we’ve been practicing, alright? Do you think you can do it?”

Wordlessly, Bela nodded.

“That’s my strong girl,” Alcina said. “Alright, give me five things you can see.”

“Y-you,” Bela stammered. The words shook when they left her lips. “Your hair’s kinda bushy.”

Alcina rolled her eyes in a good-natured way. “Thank you for pointing that out, Bela.”

Bela’s fight instantly gave in at that and she hunched her shoulders in, looking ashamed. Quick to correct herself, Alcina lifted her chin so they could make eye contact.

“I was only teasing you, honey,” Alcina said. “Keep going.”

Bela nodded. “The fire; it’s really pretty. Your-- your, umm, chair; it looks soft. The book; not the best of Shakespeare’s works. And, ah-- the teacup; it has doves on it.”

“Very good,” Alcina praised. “Four things you can feel.”

“The fire’s-- the fire’s warmth. My heart in-- my heart in my throat. The floor under me; I should have worn socks.”

“I told you,” Alcina cut in playfully.

Bela swallowed thickly. “A-and, umm-- and my anxiety. It’s like a Lycan in my chest.”

Alcina frowned at that but quickly wiped it off her face for now. She stroked Bela’s cheek, gaining a spark of hope when Bela leaned into her hand.

“I feel you, too,” Bela said.

“You only needed to name five, little moth,” Alcina said, bopping her on the nose.

Bela just shrugged.

“But you’re doing so well. Can you give me three things you can hear?”

“My heartbeat in my ears; it sounds like thunder. I don’t like thunder. Umm-- the fire crackling; I like that. And-- and a raven outside. I think that’s Merlin. His cawing is kinda raspier than the other birds’. I think he may have hurt his throat at some point.”

A small smile grew onto Alcina’s lips. She continued caressing Bela’s cheek as she talked to her. “Now two things you can smell.”

“Fear,” Bela said almost instantly. Her nose twitched. “I smell fear.”

Alcina could smell it, too. The thickened dread wafting off of her shaken daughter was acrid, bitter, and unsettling.

“Umm--” Bela’s claws fidgeted, clicking against each other softly. “And your tea. Smells like cinnamon. Cinnamon makes me sneeze.”

“One more. One thing you can taste.”

“Fear.”

“Fear?” Alcina echoed, one eyebrow raised. “Again?”

“Yes.”

“What does fear taste like?”

Bela stared down at her claws, which she splayed open before herself. “It-- it has a slightly dull metallic taste that’s mixed with urea, I think. Sometimes it tastes like popping a bloody, pus-filled blister in your mouth and squeezing every drop out with your teeth and savoring it on your tongue. Sucking the wound clean and swallowing it down.” She clenched her fists. “But it doesn’t get clean. It doesn’t dry out. The blister just keeps oozing and oozing until all the discharge comes pouring out of your mouth, but even then it doesn’t stop. Because you can’t force it all down. You can’t just swallow and think it’s done. That’s not how anxiety works. It keeps coming, even when you thought it was gone, and it leaves behind this awful flavor of bitter bile. It’s acidic, too, you know? It melts your chest and stomach and makes you feel like you’re sinking in your own skin.” She looked up at Alcina, and her eyes were shiny and blank. “I taste fear, Mother.”

There was silence between them for just a moment. Bela wasn’t looking at Alcina anymore; she seemed to think the floor was very interesting at that moment. Alcina was still considering her daughter’s dark words, replaying them over and over again until the subtle taste of sour gall spread across her tongue. She swallowed it down and winced when it drooled over the back of her throat like rancid molasses.

“You did it, baby,” Alcina finally said, smiling despite her worry, despite the flavor of fear in her mouth. “I’m so proud of you.”

Bela just nodded. Though she was no longer having a panic attack, she didn’t seem any less upset. Alcina considered letting it go, especially after just having calmed her down, but if something was bothering her daughter so much that she couldn’t breathe when she thought about it too hard, she knew she couldn’t just leave it be. It could escalate into something much, much worse, and she knew damn well that Bela was willing to go to such extremes, if her explanation of fear and the way she kept looking at the fire wasn’t enough proof of that.

“Now,” Alcina saw Bela tense, but she plunged anyway. “I need you to tell me what’s bothering you so I can help.”

Bela shook her head with a strangled whimper. “I can’t tell you.”

“Bela, I’m your mother. You can tell me anything.”

“You’ll hate me.”

“I won’t hate you.”

Bela was quiet. Then, slowly, she dragged her gaze up to Alcina. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise, Bela. I would never hate you.”

Bela nodded. “Okay.” Her claws clenched into fists against the floorboards, knuckles shaking and turning white. She took several deep breaths before forcing out, “I-- I don’t-- I don’t like people like that. Like how I’m supposed to.”

Silence.

Tears flowed freely from Bela’s eyes and she choked on a sob. Her head hung in shame as her entire body quaked. The poor girl looked terrified, and the sight hit Alcina right in the heart--though she didn’t quite get it.

“Thank you for telling me,” she said.

“No, no-- you don’t understand,” Bela’s breath was coming out thin and raspy again. She sat up straight, claws now knotted in her nightgown, tensing and pulling. “I don’t-- I don’t like people, Mama. The way other people do. The way everyone does. I’ve-- I’ve tried, but--” She cut herself off with a whimper, tears pouring down her cheeks.

“What do you mean?” Alcina asked. Trying to discern Bela’s vague words was like trying to discern Shakespearean. “Do you think you can explain it to me, hun? Like you did with the book and the fear. I want to help you.”

Bela sniffled, then nodded. “I-- I, umm-- I don’t feel anything towards people. Like-- like that. Romantically. And sexually.”

Finally, it dawned on Alcina.

“When I read those cheesy romance books Daniela likes, I don’t get the characters’ feelings at all. Just the thought of being in a relationship like that makes me so uncomfortable and I don’t know why, and that scares me, Mama.” Bela continued, her anguish oozing into every word she spoke. “I don’t like the thought of being tied down to someone like that, but it still feels like something has been stolen from me. That promise of a future with true love and marriage and a fairy tale ending that Daniela always talks about is gone, even though I still want it. Or, at least, I think I want it. I don’t know what I want.” She sniffled, looking miserable. “It’s the same for sexual stuff. When I come to scenes with sex in them in books, it makes my skin feel all weird, like severed hands are crawling all over my body. I get embarrassed and awkward and uneasy, and I don’t understand that, either. It just makes me feel so sick to my stomach.”

There was a pause. Bela was taking several shallow breaths and digging her claws into her legs, so Alcina reached out and took one of her hands, stroking her knuckles with her thumbs.

“Breathe, baby,” Alcina murmured. “Breathe.”

“I’ve-- I’ve tried to force myself to be like everyone else before,” Bela said unexpectedly.

Taken aback, Alcina said, “What?”

Bela swallowed thickly. “With-- with a maiden. You know how I am with them- too nice, too polite. I befriended one of them. We were kinda close. After a while, she started making moves on me. I knew what she wanted for so long, but I kept avoiding it because I was uncomfortable or scared. But then I had this revelation: maybe if I did this with her, I would finally feel something! I would be like everyone else! So I did. With her. And I didn’t like it.”

“Bela…”

“It hurt,” Bela whispered. “Like I was being scraped raw. Or my body was being turned inside out. I felt so sick. Humiliatingly, I started crying during it, but I don’t think she noticed. If she did, she didn’t stop. Not until she was finished. When she was, I threw up after she left. I was so sore.” Alcina squeezed her hand, and she sucked in a sharp breath, “But-- but I had to have liked it! I got, umm--” Her cheeks began to turn red with embarrassment, though Alcina didn’t blame her. Having to explain your sex life to your mother would be awkward for anyone. “I got…wet. And-- and that happens when you’re aroused! So-- so I do like sexual stuff!”

“Oh, sweetie…” Alcina sighed sadly.

Bela hunched her shoulders in. “R-right?”

“Honey, ‘getting wet’ doesn’t always mean you’re aroused,” Alcina said gently. “Simply viewing something erotic, like a naked woman, for example, could trigger this bodily response. It’s also a way for the vagina to lubricate itself to help dull the pain of penetration. You can be in a sexual situation and be wet, but not want to have sex. That’s completely normal and one hundred percent okay.” She lifted her hands to cup Bela’s cheeks. “Wetness is not an acceptable body language for consent. Who were you trying to convince: the maiden or yourself?”

Bela stared at her for a long moment, eyes wide and damp, breath hitched in the back of her throat. Then, she began shaking her head, pulling her hair, and weeping, “No, no-- I wanted it, I wanted it-- I know I did. I’m normal, I’m normal--”

It was truly heartbreaking to see her child in such a way. Bela seemed downright devastated over her own sexuality, to the point where she thought she was disgusting and unnatural for something that was actually completely normal.

Taking her daughter’s hands to keep her from hurting herself, Alcina went to say something, but Bela cut her off, getting to the words first.

“What’s wrong with me?!” Bela cried. “Why-- why am I like this, Mama? Am I broken? Am I heartless? I-- I love you and Cassandra and Daniela! I love Uncle Karl and Uncle Moreau and Auntie Donna and Angie and the Duke! I love reading and animals and writing, but-- but when I-- when I try to-- when it comes to sex and romance, I--” She finally gave up and sobbed.

“Oh, Bela,” Alcina said sadly. “Oh, my poor, sweet girl…” She pulled Bela into her lap and held her close, rocking her back and forth to help comfort her. Her fingers gently ran through Bela’s messy hair. “Shh, shh… You aren’t broken or heartless, sweetheart. This is an okay thing to feel.”

“You-- you don’t think I’m wrong?”

Alcina’s heart twisted at the way Bela looked up at her to say that, her eyes holding so much sadness and pain. She tucked her daughter’s head back under her chin and tightened the embrace.

“Absolutely not. Do you think you are?”

Bela answered in a strangled whimper. Alcina couldn’t help but wonder what put such a thought in her daughter’s brain--though, this was Bela she was dealing with. her anxiety was a wild, bestial thing that made her worry about the most obscene things.

“Did you really think this would change anything?” Alcina asked. “That I could ever possibly love you any less?”

Bela shrugged weakly.

“I-I just…”

That deep shame from before seemed to return and Bela’s head dipped. Alcina felt like she was going to try and pull away, so she tightened the embrace and used one hand to lift the girl’s chin.

“Hey, hey,” Alcina murmured, brushing away fresh tears on Bela’s cheeks. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with this, sweetie. There’s nothing wrong with you, either. And if anyone says otherwise, tell me. I’ll eviscerate them.”

That got a tiny, watery giggle out of Bela.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Alcina went on. “Sex and romantic relationships… They aren’t for everyone. And that’s okay. It certainly doesn’t make you broken or heartless.”

“B-but--”

“Hun, look at me. Do I really look like someone who will judge you for being this way?”

Bela shrugged a little. Her little body seemed to have exhausted itself of all its efforts to argue.

Alcina rocked her gently, stroking her hair the way she knew she liked it. “How about I explain something to you, hm?”

Bela looked up at her blearily.

“Your love may not be arousing or romantic, but you want to know what it is like?”

“What?” Bela asked softly.

“Your love is warm and fuzzy, like being wrapped in a blanket during a blizzard. It’s safe and reassuring. Your love is security and shelter. Your love is noticing all the little details, like my bushy hair because it’s late at night or your Uncle Karl’s finger twitching because he’s nervous at the meetings with Mother Miranda but is trying to hide it or Cassandra’s leg bouncing because she’s full of pent up, restless energy. Your love is knowing what makes each of us tick and doing everything in your power to make us feel better when we’re upset. Your love is like the first flower showing up in the snow as winter melts away and the beginning flickers of a tender flame and the gentle fluttering of bird wings.” Alcina let out a soft laugh. “I’m nowhere near as good at details as you are, my darling. But, most importantly, your love is normal and natural and what makes you you. And you shouldn’t have to try and change that for anyone, no matter what.”

Bela stared up at her in silenced awe, tears trickling down her cheeks. Alcina squeezed her reassuringly.

“I want you to know that I’ll always support you, okay?” Alcina said. “I’m always going to be here for you.”

Bela nodded, hiccuping softly. “Thank you, Mama,” she whispered through tiny whimpers. “Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too, Bela,” Alcina said. She kissed the top of Bela’s head and purred to her softly. “My perfect, perfect girl.”

#resident evil 8 #resident evil village #alcina dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #resident evil fanfic #dimitrescu family #with this unruly heart of mine

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starglitterz · 3 years ago

Note

others were never really patient with her form of amusement.

zhongli, the funeral consultant who always seemed like something greater, had never been patient with her. qiqi has never been fond of her attempts to return her to eternal rest. the exorcist chongyun has always been irritated with her. xiangling remains annoyed by her pranks, even if she harbors no ill will towards her. one of the few people who can tolerate her, adeptus xiao, shows no interest in actually establishing a relationship with her (or being kind, but hu tao would never say that. she doesn't need the ill will of the adepti directed at her!).

but you? you had never looked at her with distaste or annoyance. so... why are you starting now?

hu tao isn't foolish. she knows when it started. she just doesn't understand how you fell from her fingertips. she treated you as gently as she treats the flower she sticks in her hat, trying to cultivate your love with care. hu tao wasn't the perfect lover, but she certainly tried her best. she even wrote you poetry of her own creation, even if the words were childish.

a silk flower sits beneath a tree. right next to it, you and me! hand in hand, like we always do. never forget, quill, i love you!

hu tao would say the poem incessantly in a playful, sing-song tone, yet a faint hint of seriousness would be behind her words. after all, they were woven from the words of truth. they still are, even if your heart belong to someone else the moment the crux returned to liyue. kaedehara kazuha and you met at the wangsheng funeral parlor of all places, where he had smiled at you so softly and spoken to you with such sweetness.

you had grown distant from hu tao and closer to the inazuman outcast. hu tao watched as you grew attached to him, despite being committed to her. she watched as you betrayed her before her eyes, offering her a half-hearted apology as you returned everything she gave you. you didn't mean it. you weren't sorry. you had used hu tao for everything she was worth than left once a better option came along. kazuha ignites the stars in your eyes.

and for hu tao? she's left to deal with the corpse of your love. despite her experience with death, she doesn't quite know how to put these feelings to rest. you betrayed her, yet she loves you. if you were to return, she would take you back in her arms.

"overseer," a voice interrupts hu tao's spiraling thoughts as she stands in the lobby of the wangsheng funeral parlor. "are you alright?"

it's the familiar voice of zhongli. she knows he cannot stand her, yet he's also kind enough to inquire whenever he sees anguish. is she that pathetic that she requires his assistance.

"just peachy! i'm doing quite well, actua-" hu tao begins, but her voice cracks on the final syllable. tears well up in her eyes and she pauses, not wanting to make a pathetic display of herself in front of her underling. but the honeyed gaze of zhongli is too much. it reads her entirely. he knows. he knows you left. he wouldn't look at her with such a pitying gaze otherwise.

the consultant steps forward and envelops her smaller frame in a hug. it is comforting, despite the rift that exists between him. hu tao can't stop herself as a sob breaks out of her. no words exit her lips, only broken cries.

"a true lover would not break the unspoken contract of a relationship," zhongli advises, but hu tao shakes her head. her hands scrabble to get a grip on his back, hugging him close and desperately as she unprofessionally breaks down.

"i don't want a true lover, i want quill," she cries. zhongli remains steady, holding her close. she cannot see his face as she buries her head into the expensive fabric of his coat. is he disappointed in her? annoyed? angry? she doesn't know.

she ruins her relationships with everyone. she couldn't even keep you. what's another bridge burnt? zhongli will keep returning anyways. he needs a paycheck.

yet, she can't see the solemn expression that crosses his face. it's one of understanding. even if he still had his gnosis, there are some wishes that an archon cannot grant. humanity are fickle creatures. their emotions are untamed and their whims are difficult to understand. but, for now, zhongli is knowledgeable enough to know that hu tao needs a friend as she heals from the wounds that you inflicted on her.

so, he stands with her as she sobs in the halls of the wangsheng funeral parlor, the same place you met the man that you left her for.

can some archon please give me the strength i need to get through this ebg week 😭😭😭

okay

OKAY

OKAY !!!!!!!

yes i love kazuha he completely bewitched me and stole my heart from whoever had it prior to this,,, just kidding i have always loved kazuha with my entire soul and being haha idk why some funeral parlour owner is sad abt me haha

wow kazuha is looking So pretty today right 😄😄😄 also axia idk if ur ask got attacked by tumblr but its so blurry for some reason :/// might be bc im looking at it through tears though BUT OFC i am crying bc kazuhas beautiful poetry brought me to tears no other reason like angst of a specific person yknow

shoutout to zhongli for being there for his friends ig 😕 he's a real one unlike some mutual named axia purposefully trying to hurt me 🙄

IM NOT GIVING YOU MY NEXT STRIKE YOU AREN'T GOING TO MAKE ME LOSE

#WOW OKAY SO THATS HOW YOU WANNA PLAY IT HUH #i am literally #in tears #CRYING SM RN !!!!!!!!!#I HATE IT HERE #OKAY THEN #FINE #starts sobbing #ILL GET YOU TOMORROW #💌 — love letters !#axia💌#❄ — ebg !

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descendantofthesparrow · 4 years ago

Text

Bad end rewrite concept - Arwen

Fae are a fickle type of being, once they turn 18 they have a yearly “mating” season that lasts from a day to a full week (similar to a period but once a year) only activated once the fae finds their “mate”. in the case of Mal, who is a dark fae and has yet to meet her “mate”, has never had her “mating” season.

both light, dark, and “regular” fae all have this “mating” season after they turn 18 and find their mate, but unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you look at it, FG and Jane were unaware that Jane had found her mate in Gil, so when the young fae turned 18, and that time of the year came around, she wasn't exactly...prepared for what was happening.

FG had explained once about the fae mating season to jane, but...faes usually don't know they’ve found their mate until they reach the once a year “mating season” and her mating season ended up being only just a week after her 18th birthday.

as both Jane and Gil were unprepared for the situation, along with them both being pretty much unknowledgeable about sex.ed and Gil wanting to get rid of the pain Jane was under(less painful more just really uncomfortable), had unprotected sex. and around two months later, Jane noticed her period was late...and she hadn't had one the previous month. panicked she quickly confided in Evie and (y/n), who calmed her down and (y/n) went out to get her friend a pregnancy test.

minutes after Jane took the test, Evie gently showed her the stick, with two pink lines.

Jane was pregnant as a result of the mating season.

while she was terrified of both her mothers and Gils reaction, with the support of her friends she told them both. Gil was ecstatic, but knew that they were both very young and having a child might not be the best idea at the moment. her mother was just as supportive, blaming herself for not properly preparing her daughter for fae mating season.

another month of talking between Jane, Gil, and her mother, the two young adults decided to keep the unborn child that was growing within Jane. FG was ecstatic that she would soon have a grandchild and did her best to help jane through her pregnancy, even though she had never gone through it herself she was a fairy godmother, not just a fairy.

six months later, out came a red cheeked little girl, to which the two new parents named her Arwen. they soon discovered while Arwen looked completely human, she had inherited her mothers fae genes, her eyes, while normally honey brown like her fathers, became iridescent when she was tired, and then when angry, like when they saw Arwen's first temper tantrum, glowed and turned blue with purplish pink magic flowing through her iris, her pupil turning to a thin pink slit. her teeth, specifically her canines and lateral incisors, where fangs, sharp enough to rip through skin if she wanted too. she was a sub-type of fea known as “wild fae” who had connections with nature and life

her magic burst forth wildly when she was only two months old, Jane staring wide eyed as her ,not even a toddler, child hovered her father upside down in the air in front of her, clapping happily as her father stared at her in shock and awe. it was almost effortless for Arwen, doing things even fully grown faes had trouble with sometimes, such as lifting an entire human into the air with no incantation.

FG was just as perplexed, in the end only suggesting that those born of true love/between a fae and their mate, had extremely powerful magic. an example being Maleficent herself, while she was a dark fae she had been born from fae mates and therefore had powerful magic, sometimes not even needing a verbal spell to cast her spells.

content with FGs answer but still in shock, Jane and Gil did their best to raise their magic rampant half fae child.

but one day...a bit more than one year after she had fled Auradon in shame of her failure, Mal returned. with vengeance.

she quickly took control of Auradon and the isle, spelling Jane and killing Gil with the Ember Mal had stolen back from her father, upon learning about Arwen, she ordered the newly spelled Jane to bring her daughter to her, what she would do with it she didn't know, it all depended on how powerful Arwen was.

Jane obeyed, taking the hardly over a half year old Arwen to Mal. but as she looked into the iridescent eyes of her only child, Jane was freed for a moment, and in that moment she raced off to the other edge of the enchanted forest, and left her child in a bush. in tears she left Arwen in her peach baby blanket with a spell to keep her warm and fed, along with a note.

-to whoever finds Arwen, please please take care of her and protect her. Mal wants her, and i cant bare to let my child into her clutches, i cant let her die. tell Arwen her mother loves her and to be strong.

-thank you, Jane-

just as Jane entered the castle that Mal had taken, the spell Mal had placed on Jane returned. Mal was confused, the baby wasn't with jane, so where was she? Jane took Mal to where she had left Arwen, only for her to be gone.

the two faes stood unaware that a woman that was thought to be dead already had the child, and she vowed that she would protect Arwen with her life.

(y/n) took Arwen away from Auradon and to a nearby country, luckily finding a cabin the middle of a forest, she rebuilt it and raised her friends child alone in that forest, waiting for the day that Auradon and its people would be freed from Mal’s clutches.

four and a half years later, Arwen is 5 years old, she knows her parents loved her very much, she knows her mother was forced to give her up to protect her from the evil Mal, she knows her father died to protect her, she knows that she loves her auntie (y/n).

she knows she is powerful, she knows she controls the forest around her, she knows she commands the animals before her.

she knows one day she will get her mother back and avenge her father. but for now, she is only 5 years old, and her auntie wants her to have a happy childhood before she gives it up to war.

so she will, for now.

yep...Arwen! so i posted this concept art for bad end rewrite and with the addition of Arwen, the timeline and story of this concept change. this is the original timeline and story which originally started around the end of D3 and took maybe a couple months for the timeline to run through, but now starts a bit more than a year after D3, and spans over a good couple years, im debating on weather or not to have it go to where Arwen is a teen and fights along side (y/n) and the others or too have her still be 5 when Mal is defeated. depending on what i chose the story will be changed, so ill decide on that later.

her magic is pretty nature like in concept, she can control nature and command animals, and when she was a toddler she “tamed” an entire wolf pack that now waits on hers and (y/n)s command.(her favorites are Artimus and TC) when she uses more of a...physically? visible? magic it flows like water and smoke, colored like her eyes when she is tired (aka its iridescent)

again she has very sharp teeth (and at the moment is missing one of her front teeth cuz she's five) and i added a new eye thing for her, when she gets angry, her eyes turn blue with purple/pink glowy stuff and her pupil becomes slanted and glows pink/purple

more of her info can be found on the other concept art i posted of her so ill just stop here cuz its 5am and im tired~

Again inspired by the Dream smp and @disneyfan50 “true defender” fic, and also thanks to disneyfan50 for helping me find a name for Arwen

#Descendents #descendants #disney descendants #bad end rewrite #concept art #arwen #janexgil #jane descendants #gil descendants #oc #child oc #magic #fae #art #my art #i suck at drawing wolves forgive me for those two at the bottom lol

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kerwritesthings · 4 years ago

Text

Orange Blossom At The Bottom Of A Shot Glass

Summary: Salty is followed by sour, which should always be followed by sweet.

Word Count: almost 3.7k

Warning: little cursing, little sexual tension, a bunch of sweet and fluff

Author Notes: ::taps on mic:: Soooo it’s been a GOOD while. The muse has been a little bit of a fickle bitch. Or a lot of one, actually. Also didn’t help that the last piece I wrote totally went a hard boom splat - gee thanks tall idiot Canadian one for that :P

HOWEVER, the muse decided to let go with some of the hockey boys and me play with some words for J’s Winter Writing Challenge. I’m just one day off deadline, though I still want to fill the other 1-2 I was thinking of. Thank you J for pulling this all together, you’re a peach.

This one, is the first attempt at writing Tyler, so please be kind to a girl. It was fun to play in this little part of my hockeysphere/hockeyblr.

I’m also maybe possibly most likely making this into a verse/series. Cause y’all should know that’s how I roll.

The prompt from the challenge was: “Take another step and I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”

“From the cute one in the three piece purple suit at the end of the bar, said to get you another of whatever you’re drinking,” Misty says, sliding the half-sugar rimmed martini glass across the copper bar top. “Wouldn’t even entertain doing this if I didn’t know most of them.”

“Thanks Mis,” you smile, pushing your empty glass towards her.

You peek down slyly towards the right. A gaggle of tall, well dressed men circle the far end. You think some look familiar. Then you see who Misty meant when he turns towards the front of the bar and towards where you’re sitting. You know straightaway who he is, know the reputation, the rumblings. It’s hard not to, as big as Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex is, it’s not at the same time. It also helps that you’ve been a hockey fan since birth, paying attention to the boys in green since you moved to Dallas a handful of years ago.

“Misty are you fucking kidding me?” you snap when she wanders back towards you.

“Nope,” she grins like the cat who got the canary. “You should go over and say thank you. Promise you, you may think you know, but he’s a good guy. The lot of them are.”

You shake your head no, downing half your drink in one sip before wiping your finger against the glass to lick at some of the sanding sugar. Misty’s blood orange martinis are your favorite, and a weakness you cannot kick when she’s got the good stuff in stock.

“Give me a blank tabcard and a pen,” you ask. “How many of them are down there? Do a round of shots on my bill, but lemme think of what to send while I write this.”

Misty places one of her pens, a card and your Visa to the right of your cocktail. You carefully fold the card in half, tearing it in two. On one half you cleanly script out your name and cell number while on the second half, you write a cheeky little note:

If you can figure out what the shot is, Misty has something for you. Thanks for the martini, the second always hits better especially when you lick the sugar rim.

“Mis, do you know how to make a reckless slut?” you snicker, capping the pen.

“Red-headed slut, but with whiskey instead of Jaeger yeah?” she questions, looking underneath the bar for a bigger, clean cocktail shaker.

“Honey whiskey if you’ve got it,�� you respond, polishing off the rest of your martini before gathering your things. “Then it’s just a touch lighter on the peach. If he can guess it right, then you give him the second half of the note.”

“You got it, I’ll see you,” she waves, off to the middle of the bar to find more ingredients.

You carefully glance down towards the opposite end, noticing the boys all wrapped up so you carefully slip out to make your exit, smiling and shaking your head.

“I’m absolutely insane,” you say out loud to yourself as you head towards your car.

“Segs, my girl left this for you and a round on her for the rest of the motley crew,” Misty explains, slipping him the first card before handing out the shot glasses.

“What she say?” Jamie nudges.

“Other than I missed her licking the rim of her glass?” he chides. “I need to guess what this is and then Misty has something for me, supposedly.”

“I do,” Misty replies, handing the rest of the shots out. “She picked a bit of a good one to leave for you too. Cheers boys, bellow if you need anything.”

He lifts the glass, sniffing it at first, not having any clue.

“J, Rads you guys have any idea?” Tyler asks, they both shake their head.

“Bottoms up,” Jamie adds before they all tip the shots back.

“Anybody?” Tyler pushes again, glasses clicking on the copper.

“I know,” a voice chimes in from the back, dropping the empty shot glass onto the bar.

“Come on then Dicky,” Tyler urges.

He looks at Tyler, trying to hold back a laugh but it doesn’t work.

“It’s a reckless slut,” he manages out between his laughter. “It’s something else dark in place of Jägermeister. Slightly fitting, eh?”

The group busts out in hoops, hollers and their own peals of laughter while Tyler shoves at the one closest to him, this time it’s Alex.

“Whiskey, honey whiskey actually, so nice one there Jason. Winner gets this,” Misty trills happily, wiggling a card in front of the group.

“Hey, wait a second,” Tyler snaps, trying to lean over to snatch the card from the bartender.

“That’s the rules she set,” she says, flicking the card over to his teammate. “Take it up with him, he got it right.”

“What’s it worth?” Jason grins, fist bumping with Misty before turning more towards Tyler.

“Not whatever you’re scheming in that brain of yours,” he takes a pull off his beer.

“I was just gonna say take care of dinner tonight, but if it’s not worth that,” Jason trails off.

“Damnit Dicky,” he sighs, hand flexing around the bottle.

“Let’s go boys, they’re ready for us,” Joe interjects from the outskirts of the group, nodding to the back dining room. “And we like it here so no bloodshed, ok?”

You’re just about to slip the key into your front door lock when your phone buzzes in quick repeated blips. You juggle everything in, snag a bottle of water from the fridge before plopping down on the couch to see what has your phone trilling.

So, Tyler didn’t win the challenge, I did and Misty followed the rules passing it to the winner! Hi, I’m Jason.

::selfie of Jason with the boys scattered about behind him at the bar::

I’m refusing for a bit to give him your number. Want to spare and maybe prepare you before I do. Plus, it’s fun to watch him squirm for a bit when it comes to shit like this.

The reckless slut shot was a nice touch, so I’m hopeful in assuming when you spotted us, him really, you kind of knew who was all down at that end of the bar. Probably have heard some things about his adventures and antics, cause who hasn’t.

I can tell you most of it is blown out of proportion, don’t get me wrong he has his fun, but he’s not an asshole.

Maybe we can all do lunch after practice? I’m happy to play buffer if you don’t want to deal with him solo. We’ll go somewhere solid and make him pick it up :)

You cannot help but smile when flipping through the messages, making sure to save both Jason’s number and ridiculous selfie to your contacts list. You fire off a quick thanks text to Misty before you settle in to figure out the best reply to Jason.

You’re a good teammate and a better friend. I would also make him squirm for a bit too, little shit deserves a bit of discomfort.

I appreciate that, Jason – thank you. I know better than to judge a book by its cover, but it’s hard when the Cliffs Notes versions are face up all over the place. Plus, a lady can never be too careful.

Want to try lunch next week, the three of us? I can’t remember what your upcoming game sitch is like, sorry. Maybe PS214? Something good that’s not too fussy, but chill. Plus, they should have enough options for whatever your nutritionist wants you boys to try to stick to or options to totally cheat out on.

I’ve got some flex in my schedule for lunches, my later afternoons get to be what’s stickier.

You know they were having a team dinner, so you don’t expect a response right away, so you pull yourself together to wash up and get to bed. You wake up to a flurry of more texts the next morning, plans for lunch Monday their practice and a video clip of the two of them, which was utterly ridiculous and adorable at the same time. It eased your tensions just a touch, but lunch would be the kicker.

“There’s my favorite foodie,” Phil the manager says, hugging you immediately. “I was so happy to see your name on the reservations. Is this a work thing or a pleasure thing?”

“Little of both, I’ve got two possibly three of Dallas’ favorite hockey team joining me which is why I asked about the back-corner alcove,” you explain. “But I also want to taste some of the new things you’ve been floating both at the bar and on the menu. Nothing formal yet, but I’m thinking of trying to pull together something around new happy hour approaches.”

“I think one of your lunch companions just walked in,” Phil responds, as you catch someone walking towards the two of you from the corner of your eye. “I know him and his wife, they’ve been in a few times. Hey Jason, nice to see you.”

“Hey Phil, wasn’t sure if you’d be here, good to see you. You’ve met one half of my lunch date already?” he shakes Phil’s hand before reaching for yours.

“She and I run in the same circles, mutual friends, some projects that have crossed paths,” Phil adds. “We’re waiting on one more, yes?”

His phone trills, “It’s Segs, he’s parking now and apologized for being late. He had to let the pups out because his dog sitter couldn’t get there early today.”

“I was early, force of habit, so no worries,” you reply. “He’s going to be pretty much on time in the grand scheme. Plus, I got some actual work done talking to Phil before you got here, so it’s all good.”

“Jason, you best not be trying to steal her from me already,” Tyler claps his shoulder before setting his eyes on you. “You’ve got someone waiting for you at home.”

You can’t help but half roll your eyes and half chuckle, “Nice to officially meet you, Tyler.”

He reaches out, his hand easily dwarfs yours, “You too, Clementine.”

“If you are all ready, we’ve got the table you asked for set,” Phil nods to the right, into the dining room.

“You were mentioning your work when I came in?” Tyler questions as you all sit down.

“I guess you could say I’m a lifestyle writer, mostly food and drink but I’ve dabbled in some travel,” you say. “I started out with my own blog back when I was in college trying to figure out what I wanted to do with life and it kind of got a following from there. I refuse to say influencer, cause no I’m not. Not my schtick. Actual writing pays the bills, not sponsored Instagram or blog posts. I refused to let my baby No Fork become something tainted like that, I think why it became so successful.”

“Wait, wait. You’re A Girl With No Fork? Seriously, my wife is obsessed with your insta page and the blog,” Jason exclaims. “She’s going to lose her ish that I’m having lunch with you.”

“Still blogging but keeping that a little more separate now a days. There’s more bylines with Infatuation, Food and Wine, a good deal with some the local papers. I may have a piece end up with Bon Appetite if this pitch I’m working on comes to fruition,” you explain, taking a sip of what Phil just placed in front of you. “Trying to keep a little of that anonymity left to keep Fork as respected as it is. Your wife and I need to brunch at some point then.”

Phil comes by to ask about any allergies or dietary restrictions, the rest is up to him and the chef, and you know you’re all in good hands.

“So, a pretty girl with a unique name,” Tyler leads. “Feels like there’s probably a good story there.”

“I was a surprisingly early baby, literally my Mom went into labor at 35 weeks and in an orange grove. That was her craving when she was pregnant with me, a ton of citrus. Hence the name,” you smile. “It’s rare I hear anyone other than her use my full name anymore. Even my pen name for my byline on pieces uses my initials. Friends mostly call me C or Em.”

“No Emmy?” Tyler questions.

You shake your head, cheeks flushing. You’ve never allowed that by anyone; not that anyone has ever tried that out for size. It always felt to too special to you, wanting to hold on to that for the right person.

“Let me see these puppies that made you late,” you divert.

“Once you get him started on the three stooges, you cannot go back,” Jason rolls his eyes. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” you smile, making grabby hands for his phone. “Come on I know you’ve got a ton of photos and videos on there.”

“They’re definitely a handful, and not so much puppies anymore. Though Gerry would fight me on that, he’s the baby,” Tyler grins wide before pulling up a video of three dogs running around like crazy in what looks to be his backyard pool.

Lunch was more of the same, good food, good conversation and a bunch of joking around. Smart play by Jason to recommend it this way, he’s as much of a sweetheart as his texts made him out to be and helps ease some of the worries you had about Tyler. And Tyler, you found yourself gravitating to him a lot more than you thought you would. You all didn’t realize it until the shift change was happening how long you actually spent in the back booth. As you’re saying goodbye, hugs are passed around between the group of you this time.

“We’re keeping you around by the way,” Tyler whispers in your ear. “Welcome to the crew.”

You fall into a quirky but easy friendship with Tyler and Jason after that, eventually Jamie too once the boys drag him to one of your tasting outings. It evolves quickly from random texting to grabbing meals and drinks, hanging out after games, even meeting Tyler at the dog park to finally meet his trio of crazy pups during one of your crazy timed breaks in your schedule that matched up before he needed to get into his pre-game routine.

Gerry is running amok hopping around with a German Sheppard while Cash just wants Tyler to throw a stick for him to fetch repeatedly. Marshall, however, has taken residence with his head in your lap.

“I know your younger brothers are insane,” you coo, rubbing the chocolate lab’s ear as he nuzzles into your thigh. “I’m sorry I have to leave you with them in a few.”

“So soon?” Tyler asks, tossing Cash’s favorite stick a little father. “You like just got here. He also just doesn’t cuddle like that with anyone. Feel special, so you shouldn’t leave him either.”

“Only a quick break today. Deadlines looming and a bourbon tasting that need to get done if I’m meeting you guys later after the game,” you explain, fingers digging into Marshall’s fur again.

“At some point you do need to come to a game,” he sasses as Cash comes barreling into his legs, Gerry not far behind. “I know you’re a hockey fan, you can’t hide that Em.”

“Perhaps maybe,” you tease, rolling your eyes sticking your tongue out at him. “Ok Marsh, I’m sorry buddy but I gotta go.”

Marshall just slides his head further into your lap, while now Cash head butts your free hand as Gerry crashes into your legs.

“I’m so sorry boys, we’ll have another playdate soon I promise,” you call to them as you pet all their heads.

“Where’s my goodbye pets and love?” he cheekily leans his head towards you.

“Oh Ty,” rolling your eyes as you get up.

You lean in as you were going to kiss his cheek, but you just tweak his nose and flip his snapback off, “See you tonight superstar.”

Misty is thankfully behind the bar again tonight at Oak and Cork, except this time you’re in the middle of the crazy group instead of the far end of the bar.

“You hitting that yet?” Alex grins wiggling his eyebrows and nodding to where you’re leaning against the bar talking to Misty while she makes your drink.

Tyler shoves his teammate, “Dude.”

“First off, don’t be crass. Em is in the damn room. And that’s a no by the way,” Jason rolls his eyes at Alex after handing off glasses to the two of them. “He most definitely wants to; I think that she does too. They just won’t actually talk about it.”

“She sent you reckless slut shots, I think you can talk to her about fucking,” Alex replies, taking a pull from his drink.

“Emmy. She’s not just some random girl to dick and dump, Rads. Fucks sake,” he sighs, hand threading through his hair as he looks over in your direction where you’re talking with Jamie, Joe and his wife.

“Emmy, eh? That speaks volumes. Just ask her already,” Jason interjects. “We’re all tired of your crank ass. I’m going to find my better half.”

“He’s right,” Alex taps his glass against Tyler’s. “Go to her. Ask her. Kiss her. Less cranky, more goals, more fucking.”

Tyler shakes his head, downing the rest of his drink in one go. He snags a bottle of beer from one of the buckets left out on the bar for the group before he looks for somewhere to take a breather. You catch him stalking off to the patio, amber glass clenched in his hand with his brows knitted together.

“He ok?” you ask Jamie, pointing towards the door where Tyler’s walking through.

“That’s not a good Tyler face,” he sighs. “I should…”

“No, stay. I’ll go check,” you interrupt, polishing off your martini to head outside.

“Hard to have congratulatory drinks when the first star of the game is hiding out on the patio,” you call out.

He shrugs, not turning around at first but you can see the tension across his shoulders even through his dress shirt. You take a couple steps out towards him.

“Hey, come on. Can’t be that bad. Right? Nothing’s wrong with the pups? Your family?” you tread carefully not knowing what could have happened between the dog park and that moment.

He turns around slowly, not looking up at first.

“Tyler, what’s going on?” your concern lacing through your voice clearly.

“I still think about that night here, you know?” he starts, placing his bottle on the railing next to him before leaning back against it. “I was intrigued, girl at a bar alone on a Friday night. Gorgeous one at that. She kind of saw right through me but dished it back unexpectedly and pretty well. Then, then that damn chaperoned lunch. Kind of just rolled from there.”

“Ty, what are you saying?” you need to make sure where he’s going with this.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, it’s exhilarating and unnerving,” he fights out, coming off the railing. “I still think about kissing you, wanting that, all the damn time.”

“Tyler,” you begin, trying to move closer.

“Take another step and I can’t be held responsible for my actions,” Tyler fights out, hands flexing at his side but looking you straight in the eye.

You can see the clench of his jaw clearly from there, the fire he’s holding back in his eyes. Your breath catches, your heart skips and your stomach flips.

“What if I’m ok with that?” you whisper, slipping an inch closer.

“I need you to be sure, Clementine,” he looks at you carefully, pupils flicking wider.

“Clementine? Really Tyler?” you try to tease to lighten the thick air around the two of you.

“Emmy,” he exhales deeply. “Don’t. Please, not tonight. Not now.”

You nod once he opens his eyes, stepping closer.

“Use your words, Emmy,” he murmurs, one hand grasping your hip while the other comes to cup your cheek, thumb trailing across your skin. “I need to hear you say it, babygirl.”

You’re distracted for a moment, having him that close. His words swirl around your head, your senses are slightly overwhelmed by him. His cologne lingers in your nose and makes your eyes flutter.

“You don’t need to placate me though, I’m a big boy,” he says softly. “Friends is better than nothing.”

“I wouldn’t,” you jump in carefully. “It’s why I waited, why I’m saying yes now to you Ty.”

Tyler pulls you forward and claims your mouth. His tongue wicked, swiping at yours. Your hands slip up behind his neck with fingers tangling in his hair at the nape. You lose sense of time, all you can do is sink further into the kiss, and into him, until you’re out of breath.

“You taste like those damn orange martinis you love. I like it,” he sighs, knuckle trailing against your cheek. “I’ve never felt possessive, but fuck. The thought of anyone else sipping your sugar after that makes me see red, Emmy.”

“Is that the ass backwards Tyler way of asking me out?” you tease, popping up on your toes to nip at his bottom lip.

He surges forward and knocks the breath out of you with another bruising kiss.

“Come to my game tomorrow, wear my jersey. Let me show you off properly, let me take you home after, breakfast with the dogs on the patio in the morning,” he asks, this time his thumb tracing over your bottom lip. “And the game after that and the next one after that, the next weeks and months ahead. Let me show you that I’m not that reckless slut you may think I am. You make me not want to be.”

You smile, nodding and pressing a kiss to the pad of his thumb.

#tyler seguin #tyler seguin fic #tyler seguin imagine #tyler seguin writing #tyler seguin fluff #nhl fic #nhl fluff #hockey fic #hockey imagine #juliaswinterwriting

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sneezefiction · 4 years ago

Text

making up for lost time

Daichi x fem!Reader - Scenario

@miss-rin‘s request: “Where Daichi reunites with the reader several years after highschool... She’s messed up from her last relationship, but wants to try again.... With a fluffy ending though, please!!”

a/n: eeee this was really therapeutic to write. i know it’s a little on the longer side of things i usually post, but i wanted to set it up well. enjoy some angst to fluff Daichi content bb <33333

warnings: break ups, cheating, low self esteem, slight language, general angst

wc: 3350

---

It’s strange. Staring at your textbook, your fingers brushing against its textured, thin pages, you hadn’t noticed the tiny droplets forming on the sheets below. Only when you recognized its salty taste did you realize you were the source. You lean back, using the table to tilt your chair onto its back legs, balancing there for a minute to keep your tears from staining anything else on the desk.

With all the mentions of bonds and fusions, somehow chemistry homework has brought you back into the reality of your current life crisis.

It’s not like you hadn’t expected tears, but did they have to overtake every aspect of your life?

In public. Walking through the park. At 4 in the morning.

It was cruel, really.

That even after a year of complete distance, everything insisted on reminding you of him.

---

Your ex was supposed to be a one night stand. A ploy to get over a deeply established crush. You were running from young, uncertain love, pushing it down, and drowning it all in heavy doses of pleasure. But weekend-after-weekend, your interactions with this mystery hookup turned into regular flings.

From there, you allowed something deeper to develop.

You started sharing with him.

Lying on the bed, limbs entangled, panting subsided. You released small thoughts and simple secrets into the dark of the night. Maybe he would capture those words, pondering them, making a space for them in his mind. Maybe he would let them drift by, like white noise and formless background music.

But it didn’t matter. You spoke anyway.

Nights passed and you would let out more gentle, whispering comments. Insecurities, dreams, stories.

And at some point, he started responding. Listening. Mulling over your words. Whether you meant for it to happen or not, things grew personal. He became your stand-in security blanket, pulling you in and showing you his own little world. You didn’t care if it was fabricated and make-believe.

Because for the first time, it seemed like someone reciprocated your words and actions. You were no longer relying on past passions and feelings because you were so busy drowning in the touch of a stranger. He gave you endless chances to let go of your greatest love and high school infatuation. And you took each one.

You pushed yourself to like him. You asked him to be exclusive. He agreed.

Because his touches were soothing. The way his arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you into his chest and whispering dirty, sugar-coated words into your ears. It made you feel wanted. Needed. Like maybe this could be the one. Like maybe you didn’t need the brown-eyed boy from so long ago.

Yes, your ex’s hold on you was physically tight…

But his intentions were loose and undefined. Eerily disconnected from the reality you had pictured yourself in.

In the back of your mind, you knew something was off. The puzzle pieces that tied your interactions together were either damaged or missing. Information and stories didn’t match up.

At some point, he started coming home wearing the scent of sex and perfume. Fragrances that didn’t belong to you. All of the staying out late and leaving the bed early... He was clearly cheating on you.

But ignorance is bliss... and you were swimming in it.

You now realize he only told you what you wanted to hear. Little, white lies iced with sweet, generous promises.

What did you expect? That he actually needed you? Why would this stand-in boyfriend be any different?

Finding him on top of a girl in your bedroom should’ve cut you deeper. It should have left you with your knees collapsed and your fingers painfully digging into the carpet. You could have screamed and cried, kicked something, at least outwardly shown your pain.

Yet all that came over you was a dizzying numbness. So you shut the door, closing yourself off to their shocked expressions. Cutting yourself off from another failed love attempt. A worthless endeavor.

---

You’re still fighting a losing battle against hot, streaming tears in the library.

You wish the tears stemmed from the breakup. It would be a logical justification for your pain. Yes, it would be easier to cry over something present… or at least something sensible.

But fate is fickle and so are your emotions. Fragile and nostalgic.

Because you aren’t choking on sobs in the campus library over that unloyal asshole.

No, your mind was fully centered on Daichi. The one person who had actually made you feel whole. Who regularly told you how much he wanted you.

You could’ve drowned in his warm, honey-glazed gaze. He drew you in, submerging you in a euphoric, blissfully intoxicated state.

Memories flittered back to you. How he would always comfort you, using his firm shoulder as a pillow during after school hours to cry or sleep on when life began to smother you.

How he snuck up behind you in the schoolyard, grabbing you by the waist, lighting a fire inside you that filled you with warmth and made your stomach do somersaults. It was playful. Lighthearted. So very Daichi.

And you wanted more. More than platonic. More than best friends.

His touches were nothing like your ex.

It was like gentle floating fireflies, blinking and flickering in a field at dusk. Consistent but surprising. Sensitive, feathery, and comforting. Not at all greedy or dismissive.

You didn’t have to think twice about it. Daichi still remained in the softest parts of you.

But it doesn’t matter anymore. He isn’t coming back to save you. To take you by the hand and rekindle whatever it was you two had shared back then.

Because Daichi wasn’t ready to commit.

He had told you how he felt. How he wanted you so badly that it physically hurt him. That he wanted to be there for you, by your side, hand-in-hand.

But he just wasn’t ready to follow through. Not with graduation and change so near in sight. Not with the possibility of losing you just as soon as you’d become his.

You knew he was right. College shifted you two into completely separate directions. 12 hours to be exact.

You and Daichi were at the right place at the wrong time.

But as you drifted, the words morphed and manipulated themselves in your mind. They echoed a tone that claimed that you were the faulty one. That you weren’t ready. You weren’t lovable enough. He didn’t want to commit to you.

So naturally, you equated it with not being enough for him. That it was some silly, unfounded puppy-love. Just a bunch of hormones and high schoolers.

So you tried to bury your longing for him, making countless mistakes in the process.

You had changed. This was your life now. Broken, exhausted, and weathered.

In defeat, you close up the heavy, tattered textbook, gently maneuvering it into your backpack and take your leave from the softly lit library. You’ve suffered enough for one day, so you may as well give yourself a break from studying.

As you make your way out the door, you feel an unexpected buzz in your back pocket, your phone lighting up with a notification. You reach a hand back to check it.

3:47 pm - sawamuradaichi38 followed you

You stop abruptly, feet planted in the doorway, eyes processing the words before you.

“Shit.”

Daichi…

High school Daichi.

The “I was just crying over how much I hate missing you 5 minutes ago,” Daichi.

You hadn’t spoken in over a year and suddenly this?

It was out of the blue, not to mention at one of the most pitiful moments in your life.

Broken up, red-eyed, and still helplessly in love with his brown-eyes. How could someone so wonderful have such disastrous timing?

You receive a rude awakening, the door to the library smacking you in the face, drawing you out of your thoughts and leaving you rubbing the now red spot on your forehead, the phone still clutched tightly in your palm.

Leaving the doorway, you spot a park bench and take a seat outside, your thumb still hovering over the “follow back” button.

It takes some persuading, but eventually you convince yourself it will be fine. It’s not like you’re selling your soul to him.

It’s just a simple “follow back.”

It also wouldn’t hurt to see what he looked like.

So you click.

And there he is. Several month’s worth of photos, flooding your eyes.

Party streamers, candids, squinted smiles, polaroid photo-shoots, flushed faces from tipsy weekends, throwbacks… and your heart is pounding at the sight of just how mature he looks.

He’s developed a flattering tan over the summer, giving him a golden glow. The deeper tone has either made him look more toned or he’s gained muscle in the past couple of years. Both are very likely.

You proceed your scrolling, subconsciously looking for any signs of being in a relationship, before you’re startled by another ‘ping’ noise.

Damn this stupid app.

To hell with media.

Why did he feel the need to message you? Is he messing with you, right now?

But the questions don’t keep you from opening the text.

Nerves settle in.

3:55 pm - Daichi: Y/n!

3:55 pm - Daichi: I’m in town for a while and I really want to see your face.

3:56 pm - Daichi: Only if you want to though… I know it’s been a long time.

How is it possible that your hands are already shaking? It’s just Daichi.

Just Daichi.

What the actual hell, Daichi.

3:58 pm - Y/n: Heya! I’d love to, but I have so many questions???

You have more than just questions.

4:00 pm - Daichi: I’ve got answers. So is that a yes? Bc if it’s a no, that’d be super awkward…

4:00 pm - Daichi: ...given that I’m 5 minutes from your university right now. Could I pick you up?

WHAT IN THE ACTUAL HELL, DAICHI.

4:01 pm - y/n: Well damn, ok. Looks like I don’t have any excuses. Come n get me :)

You do your best to sound smooth, sending him the corner to pick you up on, but you still looked and felt like a total wreck. Your makeup was messy, mascara staining the underneath of your eyes. Luckily, you had baby wipes and could clean up a little, but you were still left with a slightly puffy, red-tinted face.

The blush that appeared after receiving his text messages didn’t help either.

If you were being honest, you felt completely hysterical. You had finally given up all hope, tossing your dreams of being with him out the window.

And here he was, casually asking you to hangout as if you two hadn’t ever lost contact. As if you hadn’t been bawling your eyes out over him for the past several months. Real cute, y/n, you laugh, thinking to yourself.

You do your best to fix your face up with your phone camera and a little extra concealer, but if Daichi is anything like he was in high school, he’ll see through it almost instantly.

You spot his car, pulling up into a spot on the side of the road. He’s scanning for you.

Your breath hitches at the sight of him, heart skipping a beat.

He’s even prettier in person. Photos couldn’t capture something that strong and handsome. His features were still kind, but his expression showed how much he’d grown. The turn of his head, showcasing his jawline. Sharper, older. Your heart is pounding and you feel the anxiety settle in.

But as soon as he captures your eyes, you both grow soft.

You could tell from the way he was looking at you, he’d been longing for you too.

He hops out of his car, focused solely on you, and starts walking. Your pace matches his but it quickly increases. The hunger you’d felt for his embrace drives you both to move faster. He felt it too. It was magnetic. Almost like you’d been waiting your whole life for this reunion.

You practically throw yourself into his firm chest, his sturdy arms circling around your torso, the rate of your collision shaking his balance. But he managed, steadying himself one footstep at a time. One of his hands makes its way up to your neck and tangles itself into your hair, grasping locks and running his fingers through it. It was as though your bodies were making up for the lack of touch and all of your unspoken words, closing any spaces between you and affirming the reality of each other’s presence.

You notice him tucking your head into his chest... just how he used to.

It’s as though nothing had changed. Like you had both been talking and touching and breathing the same air for the past year when in truth, your relationship had mimicked radio silence.

It stays silent, your bodies choosing to take one another in. He smelled of coffee and cedar, with a dash of maple. He’d always carried a sweeter scent. It never failed to make you melt into him.

Daichi’s face is buried within your hair and he can’t help but breathe in the familiar fragrance of your conditioner. A huge swell of nostalgia passes over him like a crashing wave, causing him to pull you even closer.

The very feelings you had been protecting yourself from were overloading your senses.

So you break off the hug, opting to grasp his hands instead.

His gaze is so understanding. So full of raw emotion. It’s apologetic.

“Daichi I-”

“I’m so sorry, y/n.”

There’s a pause. You give him a wobbly smile, nodding gently to let him speak first.

He opens his mouth to speak, but he’s silenced as raindrop lands directly on your nose. You giggle, wiping it off with your hand, then placing said hand back into his.

“How ‘bout we go sit in the car?” He suggests as the rain begins to drizzle.

You follow him wordlessly, taking him by the arm, quickly crossing the road.

You’re snug in his passenger seat, one foot tucked under your other leg, torso facing him directly. Daichi takes a moment to look you over. You flush under his intent gaze. That’s when he notices your reddened eyes.

“You’ve been crying.” He states directly, hand making it’s way to your chin, lifting it while examining your face.

“A-ah yeah. You’re as observant as ever, Daichi, I’ll give you that.” You smile slightly.

“Why? What… or who did that to you?” He asks, concern lacing his voice.

You look away, head tilting out toward the grey-lit street.

Should you be honest?

That he was the reason for your tears?

You want to trust him.

To believe his words at face value.

You wanted to bare your soul, letting him absorb every moment of the last year of your life. To cry out to him and explain that you wanted him so deeply that you betrayed your own feelings for him.

But look where it got you last time.

Your ex took the most precious pieces of you and stomped all over it. He had used you. Your stories. Your secrets.

You were different from the girl that Daichi used to know.

He couldn’t love that, he couldn’t possibly-

“Y/n, I mean it. You can tell me anything. I promise I’ll just listen.”

And with that, you muster up your last ounce of courage, putting full trust in him.

It comes out in a soft mumble.

“...I still love you, Daichi.”

His eyes widen, lips parting.

“I-” You begin to choke on your own words.

The emotion of everything, from your breakup to seeing your ex with another girl, to the sad eyes in front of you. It all begins to spill out. It’s not a sob. More like a release.

“I tried to like someone else. I tried so, so hard, Daichi.” Tears drip down your face, catching on the hand still holding your cheek.

You do your best to speak slowly and coherently, but you can’t seem to prevent the stutters that emerge from embarrassment and months of pent-up shame.

“It didn’t work. I- he didn’t love me.” You pause, considering if you should share the next details.

You inhale deeply, remembering his words.

I can tell him anything.

“There were other girls and-”

Daichi’s eyes darken, realizing what you meant.

“He- he didn’t,” hiccups break up the sentences you’re already struggling to form, “I just wasn’t good enough, Daichi.” You meet his eyes, “Not for you. Not even for him.”

He rubs a thumb over your face, somber and troubled.

A wave of guilt washing over his face, his own eyes tearing up at the sight of you.

Daichi wasn’t there for you. He knows it.

He had left you high and dry, letting himself get washed up within his own pain, not considering how badly it would affect you. You both cut off communication to make things easier, assuming it would help you both to move on, but it had only made things worse.

Now he’s watching it all unfurl…

You’ve been mistreated and he wasn’t there to protect you. To save you. To hold you tightly within his arms.

But he wants to help pick up the pieces.

He wants to dry those tears, one by one.

He’s ready to make up for the lost time.

It’s time to prove that he’s ready for you now if you’ll have him.

So Daichi removes his hand from your face and grabs your hand, staring at it for a moment. He brushes his calloused fingers over your knuckles.

“Y/n, I never stopped loving you.” He half whispers.

He’s tracing the lines and divots in your palm now, but his eyes are on yours now.

“I couldn’t handle not seeing you… 12 hours is a lot.” He acknowledges.

“But it should never have stopped me from being with you. That was my mistake. It had nothing to do with you not being good enough.”

“Y/n, please, God please, promise me you’ll never say that again.” He begs.

Ah, that.

You couldn’t remember if that had slipped out, but it, in fact, had.

This lie you’ve been telling yourself seems a real as the gentle drumming of raindrops on the roof of the car. Your ex had affirmed it. The breakup sealed it.

And now you’re being told to let it go? To just believe you’re enough? Worthy of love?

If only it were that easy.

“I know you don’t believe me right now… you have every right not to. But I want you to learn to trust me again.”

He continues, “You can tell me anything. I promise I won’t leave you.”

Heavy.

The words were so heavy on your heart.

“...Okay.” Your voice cracks, another few tears slipping out.

“I- I’ll try.” You look away, pain creasing your brows.

He drops your hand on your lap and reaches toward your face, cupping it.

“I mean it, y/n. I won’t leave you.” His tone is scarily serious.

His lips brush against yours, asking permission. You lean forward, gently pressing your lips into his.

It takes a moment to adjust, but you meld together smoothly. It was always supposed to be this way. His warmth is sobering.

It’s tear-soaked and somber, but oh so real.

Noses brush. He runs a hand through your hair, tucking loose strands behind your ear, running a thumb down your neck. You tilt your head, deepening the kiss while leaning into his hand. Lips parted, rhythm slow and comforting.

No part of it is rushed. This moment wasn’t for anyone except for you.

Kiss after kiss, you’re being seen. Listened to. Re-opened.

And it may take tens of thousands of kisses. You’ll probably cry into his chest more times than you can count. You’ll have to fight like hell to escape the lie of “never being good enough.”

But Daichi will be there. Because he came back to you.

And he’ll keep coming back until he doesn’t have to anymore... because by then, he’ll hope to have you by his side forever.

---

tags: @cherryonigiri, @yams046, @kaidasen, @starfissure

#haikyuu #daichi x reader #daichi sawamura #daichi imagine #daichi scenario #hq #hq scenarios #hq imagines #hq headcanons #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #karasuno #haikyuu captains #daichi x you #daichi sawamura x reader #sneezefiction

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