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saiilorstars · 11 months ago

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Ch. 31: The Scamander Family

Fandom: Harry Potter (Hogwarts years 1-7) Pairing: Draco x OFC

taglist: @ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @foxesandmagic @kmc1989

Story Masterlist // Romina’s Masterlist

Fanfic • Ao3 • Wattpad

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Hogwarts was bursting with all types of rumors following the escape of Sirius Black. It was almost hilarious to learn the ranges of those rumors. Romina had her fair share of laughs only minutes after she was let go from the night wing. After the night they'd gone through (the part they knew about anyways), Madame Pomfrey had kept her, Hermione, Ron and Harry for a night of observation and one "reconstruction".

Now that Romina was free, she did the only sane thing that anyone in her place would do: go to her Common Room and shower. She was eager to put on fresh clean clothes and fix herself up. After all, exams were over and now all they had to do was just lounge about. And for some reason, she felt lighter than she had in a very long time. She was on her way to the library to return the books she'd checked out for the exams when she bumped into Harry. He didn't look too well and upon asking the reason, she found it hard to keep her cheeriness up.

"Poor Lupin," she put a hand over her chest. "He's just going to leave like that?"

"Well, according to him, somebody let it slip that he was a werewolf," Harry rolled his eyes heavily. The whole conversation with Lupin was irritating because it was all due to someone's bitterness. "As if we don't know that it was Snape."

Romina had no doubt about it too. Snape had been beyond livid that Sirius had escaped and pinned the blame on Harry, despite the fact that he wasn't the only one involved in the whole thing. "I'm sorry. He really was the best professor we had for DADA. Definitely the most interesting one."

Harry could only sigh. There was nothing they could do for Lupin now. "Do you want to have breakfast together? Ron and Hermione are already there."

"Nah, gotta return these." Romina gestured to the books in her arms. "Then afterwards, I promised Arden and the group I'd go to Hogsmeade this time. You know, willingly and in a good mood."

Harry half smiled as she bid him goodbye. She was only a few steps away when he called her name. She looked back, eyebrows raised as she waited to hear what he had to say. Harry had no idea how to broach the subject because last time, they didn't exactly talk so much as snap at each other.

"You and, um, you and Malfoy—what's that about?" He supposed that was the best question he was going to be able to form. He watched the confusion flicker across Romina's face as well as the brief, and not so subtle, shift in her stance.

"What do you mean?" she asked, half shrugging her shoulders. "He's...him and I'm...me?"

Harry long knew her tricks to avoid the subject. She used them on the school playground to outwit other students. "Rom," he said sternly.

Romina sighed and turned completely to face him. "What do you want me to say, Harry? I just fixed his nose," she insisted. "Hermione broke it and I didn't want him to go blabbing to Snape." You didn't even think about that you liar. Romina cleared her throat and looked away.

"He wouldn't have," Harry said with absolute certainty. "Because Malfoy could never stand to let people know that he was bested by Hermione Granger, a muggleborn."

Point to Harry.

Romina shrugged again, less confident with her responses. "I just didn't want to take the chance, okay?" Liar. She hadn't once thought about the consequences Hermione could have faced for her action but the realization was scary enough and she definitely wasn't looking to get more questions from Harry.

"Rom, you and I, we've known each other since we were seven...I love you like a sister…"

Romina smiled lightly. "I feel the same. You're my brother."

"Okay," Harry nodded, hoping that this would soften the blow of what he was going to ask next, "So, keeping that in mind, you know, that I just want to make sure that you're okay."

"Yeah, just like I want the same for you."

"Right," Harry said, agreeing, taking a couple steps towards her. "And I get that being in Slytherin means you have to see Malfoy a lot more than we do—an act that I thank you for your service." Romina's lips stretched into a wider smile that could soon become a chuckle. "But, I mean, with everything that's happened, everything I've seen, you and Malfoy...you're not...you know…?"

Romina laughed on cue but absolutely nobody could take away the insane heat that rushed up to her face. "Harry Potter, what the hell kind of question is that?" She laughed so easily that Harry could believe her. "Absolutely not!"

"You sure?" Harry had to ask her again. "Cos, Rom, you know that wouldn't end well. He's not a good match for you."

Romina shrugged her shoulders in a careless manner, convincing too. "Good, because I wasn't looking for one with him. I don't under—I don't understand. You got all this just because I fixed his nose? Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?"

It did sound ridiculous and Harry himself felt very ridiculous, which was why he wanted to quickly move from the subject. "Sorry. I'm...I'm sure you're right. It's not even worth talking about."

"Yeah," Romina nodded at him. "Exactly."

"I mean, you're better off dating Angel Paes."

"Oh God, you know about that?" Romina brought a hand to her face in embarrassment.

Harry grinned. "Yeah. Hermione pointed it out."

"Dammit Hermione!"

"He's loads kinder and, you know, I would tolerate him," Harry said with an innocent face that made Romina laugh.

"Don't even go there! He's never actually made a move and, you know, I don't really see him that way either!"

"You never know," Harry said, beginning to tease her. She suspected that it would become his new game with her.

Romina rolled her eyes. "Not you too. Stop it, Harry Potter, or I'm going to hex you."

"I'm going back to the Dursleys soon—a hex sounds really good right about now."

Romina had no disagreements there. "How about we find something to calm them down before you go home?"

"Sounds like a date—don't tell Angel, though!" Romina groaned while he laughed. Harry preferred this type of atmosphere between them. "I'm done, I'm done," he promised her a moment later. "Sorry."

"You're on thin ice," she warned him. "This entire conversation has put you in quite some danger."

"I had to do it," Harry shrugged. "But no more, promise. I won't ask about you and Malfoy again, I got it."

"Good," Romina said, half smiling. "Because me and him, that's not...that's never happening." She almost laughed at the absurdity of it all.

Harry wholeheartedly agreed with her and started off for the Great Hall.

Romina's lips would slowly purse as the conversation replayed in her head. When she felt fresh new heat, she shook her head. "No," she told herself, turning for the library, "Absolutely not." She made it her mission to solely focus on returning her books then meeting Arden.

~ 0 ~

After coming out of the library, Romina was in a rush to get back to the common room for a quick change of clothes. She didn't want to go anywhere in the uniform. She reached for the hair tie holding her messy bun together as she came down the stairs of the dungeon to get a head start on changing. She had just yanked the hair tie when she crashed into someone on the last step.

"You're making a habit out of this, Oswell!" Draco snapped. He rubbed his forehead after the stumbles of the crash.

"You have eyes too, you know! Use them!" Romina crinkled her nose when she felt the dull ache on her forehead as well.

"Good advice, you should use—oh, you finally took care of that hair!" Draco flapped a hand at Romina's cascading hair. It was back to its original length over her chest and without the blazing red ombre tips.

Romina had already gone through one explanation about her hair change and she really didn't want to confuse herself with her lies with more explanations. "Uh, H-Hermione did a...she did a thing with it." That's the lame excuse she was going for and she would stick with it. "Madame Pomfrey had a ride undoing all of the transfiguration spells I put on it. I am forbidden to touch my hair again for the next 10 years or so."

"Good," the word flew out of Draco. "You were getting annoying with that stuff? And you, know, that's probably what you get for letting Granger of all people touch your hair. Have you seen hers?"

Romina scowled. "This coming from someone who just discovered hair gel isn't a requirement."

Draco rolled his eyes at her. "So does this mean you're finally going back to normal now? Cos that's also been beyond annoying."

"Maybe, I don't know. All I know is that right now things don't feel as bad as they've felt all year. Which is why I need to go change to meet Arden at Hogsmeade." Romina moved around to get into the common room.

"Actually, Oswell, wait a second," Draco's call stopped her inches from the entry. "Before you go to Hogsmeade, meet me at the lake."

"What? What for?"

"You just gotta be there," he said, though he seemed slightly nervous which was very unlike him.

"What are you planning, Draco?" Romina's eyes narrowed on him. "Because I swear to God I am not in the mood for any tricks.

"When have I ever played a trick on you?"

Romina scoffed.

"Oswell, seriously, name one time where I tricked you. Just one." Draco crossed his arms and waited for an answer. Romina was all for giving him one...until she couldn't come up with one. Draco smirked. "Can't think of one?" He called with a smirk on his face.

"I can too think of one!" Romina snapped.

"Name one, then."

Romina scrunched her face. Three years with him and she couldn't think of any moment where he'd played a trick on her? That was...oddly true.

Draco knew exactly when she gave up and so with that, he called out to her again. "So I'll see you by the lake, then?"

"Yes," Romina huffed, rather put out that she had lost. Satisfied with her response, Draco went up the stairs. Romina headed inside the common room to change.

Half an hour later, because she also meant to start packing some of her things, Romina headed for the Black Lake. The heat was reaching unbearable levels so she hoped that whatever Draco had for her wouldn't take a long time.

Things were off to a bad start when Romina didn't see him. He wasn't there. I swear to god if there's a trick…

She took a deep breath in to calm herself. She didn't want to be angry, she felt like that was all she'd been this year. She looked around the area and saw several other students lounging about, including Rolf. Since Draco was nowhere to be seen, Romina decided to pass the time with Rolf.

"Hey Rolf," she greeted the boy. Unsurprisingly, he was near the waters admiring the creatures they could see near the surface.

"Hey," he said, glancing at her then doing a double-take at her. Romina chuckled. "You changed your hair again!"

"Yeah," she said, reaching to take hold of a curl. "Decided maybe it was time to go back to normal, you know?"

"Looks great," Rolf smiled at her. "Are you, uh, feeling better about things, then?"

Romina half sighed. "You know, everyone has been asking me that and so far, I'm not entirely sure that I am but...I feel like I could actually get there again. I mean, I'm not brooding anymore."

"That's something," Rolf said. "The start of a recovery, right?"

Romina nodded. "I don't think I'll ever be able to shake off my parents' legacy though. I'll always have to live with the fact my family is full of dark wizards who did terrible stuff and wherever I go, it's the first thing that people will think about when they see me."

Rolf seemed nervous all of a sudden. He stepped back from the lake, his hands sliding into his pockets. "I don't think that's necessarily true..."

Romina managed a small smile at him. "Rolf, you did the same thing when we first met." She saw the flush on Rolf's face and chuckled. "It's okay. You managed to get past it. I have to believe that others will to."

Rolf let out a heavy breath. "Romina, that's not...that's not exactly what happened."

Romina raised an eyebrow at him. "Then what did?" Rolf held onto his words for what seemed the longest. Romina watched him open and close his mouth several times. "I don't mean to be pushy, but I'm actually supposed to meet Draco in a bit." She looked around and saw that he still wasn't nearby. "Although if he just flaked on me, I'm going to kick his arse."

"Romina, I'm sorry," Rolf's apology was naturally strange to Romina. She didn't understand what he was supposed to be sorry about. "I...I've known about you for a lot longer than this year."

"Yeah, I bet you have," Romina nodded. "First year was absolute hell for me."

"I know, and I'm sorry for never saying anything."

Romina tilted her head at him. "Never saying anything about what?"

Rolf seemed to grow even more nervous. He licked his lips nervously and brought his hands out of his pockets. "I, um, you have to believe me. I was just shocked when I...when I saw you for the first time."

"Okay...that's...that's a fair sentiment, I guess?" Romina thought this was turning very strange, very fast, and she didn't want anything to ruin her cheerier mood, not even Rolf.

Rolf knew she wasn't understanding him and it was his fault for not saying it already. "I've been lying to you, Romina. Back on the first day I talked to you in our Care of Magical Creatures class, I lied to you."

"What do you mean?" Romina instinctively gulped. What if this was going to turn into a huge trick on her? Maybe Pansy was behind it?

"I didn't just happen to talk to you that day. It wasn't random at all. I picked my moment. A-after the library when we bumped into each other, I realized I couldn't just be at Hogwarts without talking to you."

Oh god if he tells me has a crush on me. It was perhaps a pretentious thing to think about but Romina was more afraid than anything at the idea of losing such a good friend in Rolf. She didn't want to think about having to let him down easily.

"See, cos, you...you're...you're not my friend," Rolf said, wincing afterwards when he realized how that sounded.

Romina, meanwhile, gasped. "We're not? Why...why not? I thought we were. Did I...did I do something—"

"No!" Rolf's eyes were no longer on her. They'd fallen to the ground and no matter how many times he attempted to meet her gaze again, he couldn't.

"Then why aren't we friends?" Romina asked frailly.

"It's not like that, Romina. I'm not explaining myself well. I fumble over my words a lot. Especially when I'm nervous." He chuckled to himself. "Apparently, I get that from my grandfather."

"Hm, when I get nervous I tend to get funny. I get more sarcastic." Romina said as a means of comfort and in hopes to lighten up the mood. She was dead afraid of what Rolf wanted to say to her.

"Yeah, you get that from your grandmother, actually."

"Huh?"

Rolf drew in a breath and with all the courage in the world, he looked up at Romina. "You get that from your grandmother, Abigail."

Romina's eyebrows furrowed. "What? How do you...who is that?"

"Your grandmother." Rolf swallowed incredibly hard. He might choke there and then. "And mine."

"What!? Rolf, what the hell are you talking about!?" Romina didn't understand one bit.

"What do you know of your mother's family, Romina?"

Romina didn't want to think about her mother, especially when Rolf was saying such odd things. "I don't know! Who cares! Why are you saying these things!?"

"Romina, it's important," Rolf insisted, and urgently too, "Your mother's family. Do you know any of them?"

Romina shook her head. "No. Uncle Lyonel doesn't really talk about my family on both sides. You can understand why, right?"

Rolf nodded. That made perfect sense and it's exactly what he heard at home all the time. "Of course. I just don't think it's fair that they're hiding part of your family who loves you."

Romina was tired of not understanding. She suddenly wished she was dealing with Draco and his mysterious nonsense rather than this. "Rolf, please just tell me what you're talking about."

Rolf nodded. He supposed he was dragging it out a bit. "Your mum, Elora, she's my grandparents' daughter. She's my aunt. You're...my cousin."

Romina froze in her spot. Her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. For a second, Rolf had to worry if she was breathing or not. She wasn't moving either.

"Romina?" He called her gently. "Romina…?"

Romina slowly came out of her stupor and when she did, she came out with a tiny laugh. "Sorry, it's just...for a moment I thought you said you and I were—"

"Cousins?" Rolf finished for her. He nodded. "Yeah, we are."

Romina stumbled back a step. "Rolf...that can't...that's not…"

"It is," Rolf promised. "Your mum is the eldest daughter of my grandparents, Abigail and Newt Scamander. My dad is your mother's brother — your uncle. My grandparents are your grandparents. I'm your cousin, Romina."

The noises that left Romina's mouth were the only thing she could muster at the moment. "No, no, because...because I would...I would've known, I...the albums I had, they..."

Rolf felt more guilty as Romina ventured into her past — what she knew of her past — and found that nothing made sense anymore. As happy as the news could be, it was also devastating because what she once knew was no more.

Eventually, her dark eyes flickered to Rolf, her reaction so strong that it was almost like she was devoid of it because she didn't know which emotion to lean on first. "Why didn't you say anything?" Her voice was a frail whisper. "You were here — this whole time you were here and you didn't say anything."

Rolf nodded with his head hanging low. "I know, I'm sorry. I-I knew about you but I had only seen a couple pictures of you until we started Hogwarts. They were baby pictures."

"And when we finally started Hogwarts? What then? You were ashamed of me too?" As angry as Romina wanted to be with him, she knew she couldn't single him out either. There were plenty of people who put distance between themselves and the Oswell family.

"No!" Rolf exclaimed. "I just...I didn't know what to do. At first, when I heard your name in the Sorting, I was shocked. I wrote to my parents and grandparents, telling them that you were here. You were going to Hogwarts with me."

"And then?" Romina's eyes were tearing up. That had been three years ago. Clearly, if they had wanted anything to do with her, they would have reached out to her.

"It's complicated, Romina..." sighed Rolf, but that wasn't enough for her.

"Complicated? They either wanted me in their lives or not!"

"They did! They do! They've always wanted you to be in their lives!"

"So why didn't they do anything!?" Romina practically shouted. Other students nearby began to look at them. "I have lived in the same house my whole life! I've been at the same school for three years! They knew where to find me and they didn't do it! That doesn't sound like a people who wanted me in their lives!"

"After the war, your uncle Lyonel took custody of you. My dad says that Lyonel didn't want you to grow up near wizards in general. Their family name was in ruins and he didn't want you to suffer."

Romina breathed raggedly now as she felt a sob trying to make it out of her throat. She didn't want to make a spectacle in front of the others, not when she had already given them so much content over the year to work with. She turned away from Rolf, dragging a hand through her hair, working on calming herself down.

"My uncle — he knew about this? He knew about the-them?"

"It appears so," Rolf nodded. "Grandma Abby tried to talk to him after you were picked up but Lyonel refused. I think he was so scared that he wanted to personally make sure you were okay."

"By not letting me be with my other family?" Romina smiled sourly at the grass. "I turned out great, didn't I?"

"You did," Rolf said whole-heartedly. Romina turned sideways to see him smiling softly. "You're awesome! You're cool, you're smart, you're so funny."

Romina wiped some of the tears on her cheeks. "Why, um, why didn't they write to me?" Her voice was no longer demanding but instead lamenting. "I've been at Hogwarts for years. They could have written me here."

"I don't know, you'd have to ask them yourself. But one thing I know for sure is how much grandma Abby and grandpa Newt love you. They've been following your track record here at Hogwarts."

"What?" A brief look of panic flashed across Romina's face. Her track record at Hogwarts was less than stellar and this year had to be the worst of all.

"They have some history with Dumbledore so they've been kept in the loop about you."

"What? They went to school here?"

"Just grandpa, but it's honestly a whole other story that I think they would like to tell you."

"I-I can't...this is too much," Romina shook her head. "My whole life, my uncle and aunt knew I had more family who actually wanted to see me and they never said anything?"

There was a time where Romina often asked them about their other family. She was young but she knew they weren't the only Oswell family members. There were other distant members somewhere out there, and that included Elora's family. But whenever she asked or simply touched on the subject, it was almost immediately changed. As time went on, and she admittedly grew bitter about her dark family's legacy, she stopped asking. That was her fault, she now saw. Maybe if she had asked more, if she had been more persistent, they would've cracked and told her about this other side of her family.

But they could have also told you when you started Hogwarts, she told herself. Yes, she could have been more persistent but at the end of the day she was just a kid and they were the adults. They had the responsibility to tell her there were others who wanted to see her. She had grandparents who were right there.

"Romina?" Rolf gently called. When he moved to touch her arm, she stepped away. He tried not to look hurt, knowing it was a proper reaction to everything he had dumped on her. His own parents warned him that if he decided to say anything, she could react this way.

"I...I think I need to sit down..." Romina said slowly, glancing around for an empty spot away from others. "Alone."

Rolf knew exactly what that meant. "Okay," he accepted it without protest. It was fair. "But just...believe me when I say I'm very happy to have met you. I'm only sorry that I was a coward who waited too long to tell you. It's no excuse, I know, but I was scared. I'll write you, if that's okay."

Romina gave him a silent nod. She really needed to be on her own right now. Rolf was reluctant to leave her, though, after the huge bomb he'd dropped on her.

"Scamander, what are you doing here?" Draco's voice carried over seconds before he approached the two. He eyed Rolf with a crinkled nose. "Shouldn't you be off petting some of the gamekeeper's pets?"

Rolf rolled his eyes at Draco. "Seriously not the time but if you're itching for a comment, I bet you're super delighted that the hippogriff escaped, huh?"

The pleasantry was written all over Draco's face at the mention.

"Don't," came Romina's quiet whisper just as his mouth opened. "I just — I really don't want to hear it this time."

"What did I miss?" Draco's eyes shifted between her and Rolf, both curious and admittedly slightly put out. What the hell did Rolf do now?

Romina decided to turn away from the two and head to an empty tree where she could sit and maybe sulk a little bit. Rolf thought it was his time to go and when he did leave, Draco blocked his way.

"What are you up to, Scamander?" He frowned.

"Sod off, Malfoy! I'm not in the mood!" Rolf went to leave but Draco blocked his way again. "What do you care what's going on now? We've known each other for ever and this is probably the longest conversation we've had."

"Don't get it confused, I'm only interested because an hour ago, Oswell was up and grinning again and now suddenly she looks like she's about to throw herself into the lake. What gives?"

"If you're genuinely that interested, go ask her," Rolf said, figuring Romina could use anyone, even him, to vent. "Would do you some good to care about someone else rather than yourself for 10 minutes." He pushed past Draco and went on his way.

As irritated as Draco was, and he was, his curiosity won the best of him and he went to find Romina. She had found herself a spot on the ground, against a tree, and was staring blankly ahead.

"Okay, Oswell, what's the deal now? I thought you said you were done sobbing?"

Romina's eyes flickered from the lake up to him and flashed with anger. "Do I look like I'm shedding a tear to you?" she snapped.

"I don't know, I'm gonna wait it out 5 minutes and see."

"Eugh, go away!" She grabbed a rock from the ground and threw it at him.

"Hey!" He blocked his face with an old book in his hands. "Watch it! I don't need this, you know?"

"Then go away!"

"I could — and would — but I brought you something." Draco held out the book to her.

"I don't need your gifts."

"Would you take a look at the damn thing first?" Draco dropped the book on her lap and crossed his arms. "Look at it," he ordered her again.

Romina thought about the perfect moment she could chuck it at his face...until she saw the cover. "This is the yearbook Parkinson had..." she mumbled. It was the same yearbook where Elora and Caplan were pictured in one of their Hogwarts years. "Why do you have it?"

"I asked Parkinson to see it and she happily gave it to me. Didn't even ask me why I would want it."

Romina scoffed. "Are you really that shocked, though? You can see the humongous crush she has on you from a kilometer away."

"I could say the same thing about Angel."

Romina's head snapped up at Draco. They met each other's looks and upheld it until they both, ironically, rolled their eyes.

"Anyways," Draco went on, "I thought you might want to look at it, hold it, throw it away...or if you're feeling brave, burning it."

Romina curiously lifted an eyebrow at him. "What are you going to do when Parkinson eventually asks you for her book back?"

Draco slid his hands into his pockets then pulled them out. "Oh no, I must have misplaced it." He shrugged.

Romina couldn't help the laugh that broke out from her. "She'll kill you..."

"You just said she's hopelessly in love with me."

"That is not what I said."

"But it's still true."

Romina would have loved to argue but it was very true. Plus, she didn't want to spend time talking about Pansy's unfortunate love life. "Thank you..." She gripped the book in her hands, gazing at its cover. If you open it, you might find your supposed aunt and uncle. She felt knots in her stomach.

"Merlin, Oswell, what the fuck is it now!?" Draco couldn't stand watching Romina anymore. "I will take that book from you right now if you don't tell me!"

Romina thought about throwing the book at him again. She glared at him but in that moment, she couldn't muster that annoyance she usually did it with. "Why didn't you want me to know who Rolf was?"

"Huh?" Draco made a face. Of all the things Romina could have asked, that certainly wasn't what he thought it would be. "What are you going on about now?"

"Listen to me and just answer the question! Back at the library when I bumped into him, you didn't want me to know who he was. Why?"

"I don't—"

"Was it because you knew who he was?"

"Obviously I know who he is—"

"No, I meant because you knew that he was my bloody cousin!?"

"I'm sorry — what!?" Draco's eyes had widened dramatically.

Romina paused her interrogation to gauge his reaction. He seemed genuinely surprised with her right now. Maybe he hadn't known...

"Rolf is your cousin?" The news was too much not to ask more about. "When the hell did he tell you that?"

"Right now!" Romina gestured down to the lake. "Literally 5 minutes ago! Just told me the whole story! Elora is his father's sister, making us cousins!"

Draco stood like a statue for several minutes; the only things moving were his eyes and eyebrows as he thought about the idea. His face was the same one he made whenever she (or Arden) started talking about muggle-related stuff.

"You...you really didn't know?" Her question, albeit soft, still pulled a glare from him.

"No!" he snapped. "Why the hell would I know?"

"I don't know, you seem to always know everything around here—"

"I'm well educated, not a historian! I don't know every fucking member of every family, you know!"

Romina deadpanned him. "You want me to throw you the book?"

"Oh, calm yourself. The problem's not with me, is it? It's with the rest of the world, apparently."

Romina leaned back against the tree. No, her plan was not to be angry at the world again. She found the idea very tiresome. "So...you really had no idea? I mean, no one in your circle knows this?"

"Marriage amongst the sacred 30 is a funny thing..." Draco came over beside Romina and sat down next to her.

"Sacred 30?" Romina couldn't help her face, but it was a rather amusing sight for Draco.

"You are so painfully behind, Oswell. I know for a fact I told you about the Sacred 30 during our correspondence letters two summers ago. The Sacred 30 are the only remaining pureblood families in the wizarding community."

"Honestly, when you started writing essays on that part, I skimmed," Romina said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Draco rolled his eyes; he wasn't going to waste time being surprised. It sounded like something she would do. "The point I was trying to get to is that the way marriage works usually ends up with your maiden name being forgotten. Eventually, enough time passes and then it really is forgotten. I imagine that's what happened with the Scamander family. That and the fact your mother—"

"Not my mother," warned Romina. "Do not call her that. She isn't. Her name's Elora."

"Fine, Elora married into the Oswell family and that became her name. I imagine once she became a Death Eater, she really made a point to shed her maiden name and anything with it. The Scamanders are regarded as war heroes."

"Why?" Romina shifted on the ground to face Draco. "Rolf mentioned it too but he said...well it doesn't matter. I thought they were just authors and clothing designers."

"The war before the one with you-know-who. Dumbledore fought in it."

"Ooh," Romina made the connection now. "They all fought together?" Draco nodded. "That's how they know each other then."

"Like veterans," said Romina. "And Dumbledore never even alluded to it too..."

"Anyways, congrats, I guess? People are going to love this."

Romina stiffened as a familiar dread began to fall on her shoulders. "Again? I don't — if I have to go through what I did this year all over again, then I would rather not do anything about this! I would rather not meet anyone either!"

"And yet somehow I don't believe that," said Draco, glancing at her with a knowing smile despite her scowl. "Don't give me that look. You just found out you have more family and you're seriously going to tell me that you're not the least bit curious to meet them?"

"I don't know," Romina huffed and leaned back on the tree, crossing her arms. "If they had wanted to meet me before, they would've done it. My uncle tried to stop them but...I mean...if you really want something, why would you stop?"

"Maybe in fairy tales, things might have gone in that direction, but in this life? Things are not the way it seems and the quicker you accept that, the easier your life will be."

"What the hell would you do, then? If you were in my spot, what would you do?"

Draco was quiet for a few minutes. Romina was just waiting for him to come out with some smartass response about the whole thing.

"I wouldn't do a damn thing," he retorted. Romina looked at him suspiciously. "Why would I? I don't need anything from them."

"You wouldn't need anything from them?" repeated Romina who then scoffed. "Seriously?"

"What?" shrugged Draco. "If they didn't want to see me, then why the hell would I give them my time of day?"

"But — what about the questions you have? Because trust me, there would be some questions!"

Draco scoffed. "I wouldn't have any!"

"Yes you would!"

"No, I wouldn't."

Romina got more worked up the more Draco denied what she swore was true. "Yes, you would!" she finally snapped and pulled herself up from the ground. She glared down at Draco. "Because they are your family whom you just found out about after 13 years of bloody secrets! You would want to meet them! You would want them to tell you why didn't they look harder for you? Why did they give up on you!?"

Draco's expression remained cool under Romina's hard glare. Little by little, a smirk started worming across his face. "Well, then I guess I know your summer plans, don't I?"

It took Romina another moment to realize what he had done. She let out a heavy breath, mentally trying to decide whether to strangle him or appreciate his gesture. It was a very tough decision.

Draco started getting up and he picked up the yearbook off the ground. "You're welcome," he said as he held the book out to Romina.

She was beyond dumbfounded in the end and the more she thought about it, the more flushed she got. "I..." She was at a loss for words.

"You're tired," Draco said, and grabbed her hand to place the book on. "I suggest you go back to your dorm and just...stop thinking about it. At least for 10 minutes. After that, things don't seem as bad anymore."

Romina got the faint feeling that he spoke from direct experience. If it was, then it would be the first time Draco talked about himself in a real way. Not the showing off type of stuff he usually did. "Thank you," she whispered to him.

Draco nodded at her. He started leaving when Romina suddenly called him again.

"Could you...could you not tell anyone about this?" she nervously asked. "I'm not quite ready for people to...find out more about me again."

"Whatever you want." Draco flashed her a smile and went on his way. He missed the light smile that crossed Romina's face.

A/N:

Been waiting to drop that one! Romina is part of the Scamander family! And her grandmother is another of my OCs, Abigail, and obviously a Fantastic Beast oc but it's still in the drafts! But anyways, happy ending for book 3! Book 4 is where the real fun/drama starts ;)

#ocapp #allaboutocs #ochub #fyeahharrypotterocs #harry potter #draco malfoy #draco malfoy fics #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy x oc #harry potter fics #harry potter imagines #hp #hp fics #hp imagines #oc: romina oswell #fic: legacies

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faint-petrichor · 7 months ago

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I couldn't resist the opportunity. I'd played Alan Wake, so for a moment I became worried I might be an instrument in some supernatural scheme. Instead I said fuck it, and picked my pen back up.

"All wars ended, poverty abolished, climate crisis averted, fully automated luxury space communism achieved. Humanity enters a neverbeforeseen era of peace, discovery and flourishing."

Then I took the book and burned it, with the hopes that would be the end of it. At first, nothing happened. My friend wouldn't stop yelling at me, waving his arms around and running himself out of breath. I stood still over the fireplace, gazing past the fire. My pulse was red hot and there was a pit in my stomach. Was I really so arrogant to think I could save the world with a few scribbles on a page?

"Look buddy I know you got big ideas, but isn't that a bit fuckin reckless? I've seen the movies, I know how this shit goes. There's always a catch! Always!

The monkey's paw is gonna curl on us and it's all gonna go to shit. Couldn't you just have asked for a car or something?"

A few days passed and nothing seemed to happen. Then months, and then a year. Everything seemed to be going the way it always had. At least I didn't set the world on fire, I thought. I started to doubt the whole thing, maybe we were both wrong that night. I'd spend all day doing nothing but checking every news source I knew for a shred of a hint. Years went by this way, and I'd whittled myself away to nearly nothing.

I hadn't heard from my friend since that night. He sort of just vanished off the radar, left his wife and kids and everything. We did everything we could to find him, but there wasn't a trace. In distress I confessed to his wife it was probably my fault. I probably would have been tried for murder if she didn't think I was insane.

But then, he called me.

"Hey Charlie, we're doing it man! We fuckin did it."

I didn't know what I was hearing, I thought I was dreaming. I was nearly sure I was, as much as my confidence in reality had deteriorated these years.

"What?"

"It's me, Gio, man! Look, after that night I had an epiphany. I thought ok, maybe the world's gonna burn down—but what if it doesn't? What if this shit just keeps going day after day while I sit around worrying about it doing nothing? So I packed my shit and joined the revolution.

No no no, I'm serious. We've been fighting the feds and the cops for years.

Of course you didn't see it on the news! You think they'd let people know real shit's going down? No way. Just shooters this, vandals that. We seized the fuckin capital man. We're gonna dissolve the US and put up a provisional government.

No I'm not fuckin with you, listen! Something happened that night. Not just to me, seems like a bunch of people. We all had the same epiphany. I don't know if it's some woowoo shit with that book or what, but it happened. We were turnin out numbers left and right. Next thing you know, there's a real movement. It was like electricity, man. I tried to contact you but you never answered."

It felt like the world was closing in around me. But it turned out everything he was saying was true. It didn't happen smoothly, but one thing after another, it all started coming true. A decade and many losses later, war was over. With the international people's republic established, humanity was now free to prosper. First came the advances in energy, medicine and production. Then the advances in space travel. I wound up retiring in a cozy little colony orbiting Mars, something I only dreamed possible as a child.

The only thing I regretted was sitting back doing nothing. Gio never let me hear the end of it with all the tales of his war days—He left out the part where he lost an arm and a leg. I was content to spend my days caring for him and writing stories to teach the next generations. It was the least I could do... No, it was what I wanted to do.

“Please stop writing! The very next thing you write will actually happen!”

#azazaza #writing

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mythandlaur · 2 years ago

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Epithet Erased Week - Day 7

I had a hard time picking an AU for this but once I did holy crap. Uh. This may have gotten a bit out of hand, and some parts may be a bit extraneous, but I'm determined to keep all of them. It might also be a bit incoherent because I spat it out in a two hour sitting and didn't edit it it just kind of showed up???

This is set in the Psychonauts AU I posted about a while ago since people seemed to like it??? I guess we'll test that now.

Because one part in this nonsense might make people think it, I do not ship Molly and Sylvie. Sylvie's just being a good therapist/friend in a scene partially inspired by something I'd like to write in the future but am not sure I'll ever get around to because it's part of a whole plot I'd like to write and I don't know the details of that entire plot.

Reminder that because day 8 (redesign) is impossible to do in writing I'll be skipping straight to day 9! Holy god am I actually going to finish one of these

Warning for written potential thalassophobia triggers

"Well," Sylvie says dryly, watching the group of tiny, googly-eyed, brightly-colored octopi marching along the sand in front of him carrying a 2x4 like a colony of ants carrying a corn flake. "I don't know what I expected."

The sun beats down from some unseen point in the clear blue sky overhead, warming their faces. Molly's already opted to tie her bear hoodie around her neck by the arms rather than wear it, and Sylvie's considering following her lead with his own jacket, though Percy seems more than comfortable in her trenchcoat. The island they'd arrived on is spacious but sparse, mostly covered in palm trees with purple leaves. The only denizens are the octopi in various sizes and colors, who appear to be building a cabin at the treeline--at least, the ones who aren't goofing off on the beach.

"...Hmph." Percy rests a hand on her hip, watching the builder octopi with narrowed eyes. "Howie would throw a fit if he saw this."

"Um...doesn't he hate psychics," Molly asks tentatively, raising a hand.

"Oh, yes, in a sense. But also I highly doubt these building conditions are OSHA compliant. Not a single piece of safety equipment to be seen anywhere."

"Ugh." Sylvie begins to pace along the shore, cupping his chin in one hand and holding his elbow with the other. "This doesn't make any sense."

"I agree," Percy says with a sage nod. "Even in a mental world, safety is important."

"What--no! Not that." Sylvie shakes his head, gesturing with one hand. "This can't be all there is here. That's not how memories work."

Molly rocks on her feet, hands clasped in front of her. "You said you talked to him yesterday, right?"

"I interviewed him, yes." Sylvie wiggles his finger in a spiral pattern in the air to illustrate his point. "I've been able to get suppressed memories that way before, and we got pretty deep into his subconscious, but then he just...hit a wall. It was almost like it hurt him."

"Hurt him?" Molly frowns. "Should we really be doing this, then?"

"No, no--he was still trying to remember, he wanted to, he just...couldn't for some reason."

"May I suggest we check around the perimeter," Percy says. "There may be something here we're missing."

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Molly?"

"Okay."

"And do be careful." Percy squints suspiciously at a group of octopi building an elaborate sand castle nearby. "Despite the cheerful setting, we don't know what might be lurking behind those adorable googly eyes."

Sylvie, Molly, and one of the builder octopi stare at Percy in utter bewilderment, before Sylvie tugs on Molly's arm and they start walking.

There really isn't that much more to see along the rest of the shoreline, which Sylvie supposes makes sense. Molly, Phoenica, and Trixie had only brought the mysterious and enthusiastic "Rick Shades" back to the training facility about a week ago, and he'd been all but a babbling mess for the first few hours due to starvation and dehydration. After that, he'd claimed to be suffering nearly all-consuming retrograde amnesia, though this certainly hadn't stopped him from immediately trying to make friends with absolutely everyone in the building. He had an odd way of going about things and very little social sense, but he'd proven a rather capable psychic when it came to the more physical abilities, and did not hesitate to share his bizarre techniques with anyone who would listen (and some who wouldn't).

Sylvie had tried his own brand of hypnotherapy on him, but it had gone poorly, ending up with Rick facedown on the floor apologizing for ten minutes. So, with Rick's permission, they'd decided to try to find the problem at its source. Neither Sylvie nor Molly could be dissuaded from the opportunity--Sylvie for the potential learning experience, and Molly to help in lieu of Phoenica, who had become extremely attached to Rick and extremely invested in his well-being--and, considering it was supposed to be relatively safe, had been allowed to as long as Percy supervised.

Their scouting is uneventful (aside from a brief glimpse of some censors chasing some octopi around in a circle, both parties letting out constant high-pitched screaming), and eventually Sylvie sits down in the sand with a huff, putting his face in his hands.

"There shouldn't be so little here!" He cracks one eye open to stare off into the distance, where all that can be seen is an infinite expanse of crystal blue water. "No vaults, no baggage, not even figments. Memories don't just disappear, they've got to be somewhere in here!"

"Um..." Molly sits down next to him, awkwardly patting his arm. "...It's okay if we don't find anything. He seems pretty happy."

"But I have to figure this out now."

"You really don't." Molly smiles, a little strained. "We can just go! It's fine."

"Ms. Blyndeff is correct." Percy inclines her head. "It's possible there may be something in the trees, but I'm beginning to get a bad feeling about this place."

"You don't get it, just--let me think."

Molly's face falls, and her gaze drops to the sand as she scoots away from him, eventually getting back up to do some pacing of her own. Really, it's not her fault, it's no one's fault, but--Sylvie considers himself an expert at interpreting things like dreams and mental worlds, it's the thing he's good at even compared to the adults. It's the thing people have to take seriously about him, and if he fails to figure out the first slightly unorthodox mind he comes across, then...!

"Sylvie!"

Sylvie's head snaps up. "What?"

Molly's standing ankle-deep in the water with her back to him, pointing. Sylvie pulls himself to his feet, walking over to stand next to her with Percy close behind.

"I thought I saw something in the water--a light?"

"A light?" Sylvie steps forward, until he's waist-deep, trying not to think about his soggy jacket--it's technically not real water and he isn't actually wet, but it sure feels like it. After a moment of hesitation, Sylvie pulls off his glasses, hooks them on his collar, and dunks his head to get a less distorted view.

The island's shore drops off sharply a little ways in front of them, leaving what looks to be empty, dark water extending to a dizzying depth below. As his eyes adjust slightly, Sylvie can make out vague shapes moving underneath, and--

Lights. Colorful lights, like neon signs, blinking somewhere far, far below.

Sylvie stands up straight, head breaking the water with a splash. He's sure his hair looks very pitiful, flat and soggy around his shoulders, but for once he doesn't care. "Of course!" He smacks the heel of his hand into his forehead. "Stupid Sylvester, stupid."

Percy and Molly wade forward to join him, though Molly has to stop as the water reaches her neck, looking both resigned and vaguely annoyed by her own height. "You see something?" Percy asks.

"Molly's right--there's lights, and I see some other stuff. Of course it's all down there!"

"That's great," Molly chirps, though her face is quick to fall again. "But...how do we get down there?"

Sylvie's face twists in disgust. "I guess we're swimming." He hates swimming.

"...How?"

Sylvie turns to her. "Do you not know how to swim?"

"Oh, no, I do, I taught myself!" Sylvie opens his mouth to question that, but not for the first time decides it's really not worth it. "I just figure we're gonna have an issue with...uh...air?"

"Heh." Sylvie reaches up to push up his glasses dramatically, though he forgets they're still on his collar and instead just pokes the bridge of his nose awkwardly. He pretends he meant to do that. "Oh, Molly. You're really gonna need to open your mind a little if you want to get stronger."

Molly gives him a flat look. "Uh-huh. So...you have a way around that, or...?"

"We all do!" Sylvie gestures out into the water. "Essentially, we're in something very much like a dream right now, and dreams don't always have to follow the rules of physics. The same goes for mental worlds. We can't exactly change somebody else's like you could change your dreams, but we can do enough to make a place for ourselves in it."

"You're saying we can breathe underwater?"

"Exactly! If we will it."

Molly tilts her head down slightly, though isn't able to look too far down given the fact that her chin is barely above water. "...I don't know."

"Mr. Ashling is right," Percy says with a nod. "It's been well-documented."

"I'm probably not gonna be able to do it," Molly says, backing up towards the shore.

Sylvie frowns, expression softening somewhat as he matches her steps. Molly always seems...pretty self-deprecating about her own powers. It'd been that way since he'd met her all those months ago, and he can't for the life of him figure out why, aside from the bizarre family issues she's vaguely alluded to. But she's certainly capable. The one time they'd dueled, she'd managed to completely cut off his senses of sight and sound, and blocked his attempts at clairvoyance to get at least some idea of what he was doing. He'd never been beaten before!

"...Molly, I may be a genius, but you're just as capable as everyone else." Somewhere in the back of his mind, Beefton lets him know that came out a bit underhanded. Too late now. He shakes his head. "Here, let's try something."

Sylvie steps forward, holding out both hands. Molly hesitates, but takes them, putting on his best therapist voice.

"Close your eyes. I'm gonna start walking backwards with you, and you're just gonna focus on my hands, and your breathing. Not on the water. It's pretty mild in temperature, it's basically not even here. And you're gonna keep breathing. If you have any trouble with it, we'll get you out, and we'll leave. Okay?"

Molly nods. Sylvie glances to Percy, who nods as well and moves to stand behind Molly, arms held out. Sylvie begins walking backwards, trying to make as little noise as possible as Molly's hands grip his tighter.

Her head goes underwater before his does, and he can't help but tense a bit, but she doesn't even seem to notice. Sylvie grins at Percy, who gives him a faint smile back. Man, he's good.

Another large step backwards, and Sylvie's underwater as well. It's a bit strange to keep breathing when his mind is trying to tell him he's underwater, but he gets the hang of it after a couple seconds. He keeps stepping them back until they reach the dropoff.

"Okay." His voice is maybe a bit muffled, but at least not too terribly distorted. "You can open your eyes now."

Molly does--and gasps, then clamps a hand over her mouth. Sylvie holds onto her other hand, and for a moment it looks like she's going to panic...before she smiles.

"...Feenie's gonna be really jealous," she says. "She can't swim at all. Oh! And this might help with Lori's stuff!"

Sylvie nods, though he's still not sure what that means, exactly. Molly lets go of his hand and does a messy breaststroke forward, looking down.

"And that's the light I saw!"

"It's quite a ways down," Percy says, now underwater with them with her arms staunchly at her sides as she kicks her legs like a mermaid. Sylvie can't imagine it's effective, but she looks as deadly serious as always. "Shall we get going?"

"We shall," Sylvie replies, extremely pleased with himself. Everything's suddenly coming up aces for him--and figuring out the mystery of this mental world will be the icing on the proverbial cake.

Percy's method of swimming isn't really effective--until she summons a psionic pair of flippers in translucent periwinkle around her feet, and a levitation orb to hold like a motor. Sylvie kicks himself for not thinking of it, but lets her swim ahead while he and Molly work out how to at least do the levball trick, though neither of them are quite as good at it. The glow at least helps as the water grows darker.

Sure enough, everything is under the surface. They pass some figments early on (Molly points out ones that look like her, Phoenica, and Trixie), then some surreal-looking sea life including a quite literal sea horse, then some aquatic variants of common mental denizens (there's something about a censor in a full business suit with a very sparkly mermaid tail that Sylvie finds almost unreasonably funny, though the quantity of regrets taking the form of oozy jellyfish are somewhat concerning).

Thankfully, pressure appears to be as much of a non-issue as air, though as they travel further down, the lights in the distance don't seem to get any closer. Strange shapes begin to form in the shadows cast by their levballs, and Percy bids the two to stay back as she investigates. Molly presses a finger to her temple, a green glow signaling her attempting to boost Percy's sense of sight, and Sylvie closes his eyes, mentally reaching out until he can see through Percy's eyes.

In the pale blue glow of her orb, the shape glints like metal, though it's dark as obsidian and covered in spikes. Sylvie can sense Percy's sudden spike of concern from behind her eyes, and quickly snaps back to himself, swimming backwards with Molly following after.

"Stay put," Percy says, swimming a ways back as well--before shooting a blast of blue psionic energy at the shape.

The white flash as it explodes only serves to contrast the black lightning it produces, reaching out hungry tendrils into the water around it like a living thing. There's a couple of other explosions from nearby mines, and as the ringing in his ears fades, Sylvie can hear what sounds like a very large group of censors approaching at speed.

"Go," Percy demands, and the kids don't have to be told twice. The trio speed downwards, and when Sylvie glances over his shoulder, though he can't see the lightning against the dark water, he can faintly make out the shapes of large censors beating at it--and disintegrating.

"...Judging by the speed of the reaction, these things definitely represent a major concern," Sylvie says.

"They're everywhere," Molly breathes, turning her green orb this way and that to shine its faint light on more obsidian mines.

Percy turns to Sylvie, frowning deeply. "Any thoughts, Mr. Ashling?"

"I...can't be sure if this is what's causing the problem, but it might be a sign pointing towards it. It's likely representing a desire to keep something away from this part of the mental world, but I can't tell by looking if they're artificial or not."

"Perhaps we should retreat for the moment."

"No!" Sylvie's eyes practically glint in his own orange light as he points downwards. "We're definitely getting closer now. We just need to be careful and--"

Something cuts him off.

It's a groan like a creaking ship mixed with a crooning whale, far away and yet loud enough to rattle all of their ribcages and set the water around them vibrating. Percy quickly darts out in front of them, dispelling her flippers and levball in favor of a cutlass made out of pure psionic energy, her signature weapon. Sylvie pulls Molly back by the shoulders, casting about with his mind for the sound's source.

He does find a presence, but it's a bit like turning on your headphones only to find you left the volume on all the way up, and it almost physically blasts him backwards. He only realizes he'd started sputtering when Molly shakes his shoulders.

"Are you okay?!"

"I--yes--it--very loud--"

The sound comes again, though this time with a note of anger. Something rises up before them, effortlessly pushing aside the mines. In the faint light of Percy's sword, they can make out a round, bulbous shape in a mottled, sickly blue color. As it moves up and up and up, the light shines off sunken googly eyes, over a very, very large mass of tentacles that stretch into the darkness below. The whole thing looks like a mix of the worker octopi, the aquatic variety of regrets, and Cthulhu itself, and though not all of it is visible, Sylvie guesses it's at least the size of a house.

("BEEFTON CANNOT SWIM,") Sylvie's archetype loudly reminds him in his head.

At the same time, Percy dismisses her sword and grabs them both in large psionic hands. "Retreat!"

Percy shoots upwards like a rocket just as the creature swings a tentacle at her, dragging the kids along behind with her constructs. Molly practically clings to Sylvie's arm as Sylvie looks down, trying to get a better look at the creature, but the darkness is quick to claim it. It wails again, very loud, too loud, but it doesn't sound like it's following them.

Percy maneuvers them deftly through the minefield into comparatively shallower waters, and they're high enough to find a school of regrets before she dares to stop.

They're all gasping for air despite being underwater, hearts pounding. Molly only extricates herself from Sylvie after a solid minute, wrapping her arms around herself instead. "What. Was that."

"I don't know," Sylvie admits, too frazzled to think up an excuse or explanation. "Clearly whatever it is he doesn't know it's there or I feel like he would've said something!"

"Clearly, we should leave," Percy says, already digging in her pocket for her salts. "Mr. Shades needs to be made aware of this immediately."

"W-wait!" Molly waves her hands. "S-should we really tell him about this? I feel like it'll freak him out. I mean...it was only after we got past the big do not enter mines that it showed up, right?"

"Only after we got close to the lights..." Sylvie's brows furrow. "Maybe it's...protecting whatever's down there? It didn't seem benign, but it didn't follow us, either..." Sylvie shakes his head. "You might be right, Molly. Maybe we should think about this a little more."

"I am a mere security officer here to ensure your safety," Percy says, hand solemnly over her chest. "I will defer to your judgment."

"Thank you." Though it's just Percy being Percy, he does appreciate that she's always treated him like an adult, exactly the same way she'd treat everyone else. He's never felt looked down on by her, which is why he'd been willing to have her along.

And he supposes she had saved their rears just now...Sylvie doesn't really have much combat ability outside of his aspect, and he knows Molly doesn't either--or at least, none she's willing to use, if the faint hints she's dropped to a pyrokinetic ability are correct. If either of them have a problem, they think and trick their way out of it. Something about the sheer noise of that construct's mind makes Sylvie think outsmarting it probably wouldn't have been possible.

Sylvie takes a deep breath, and lets it out in a long sigh, hand traveling to his own pocket. "Okay. Yeah. I think we're done here. Molly?"

"Fine by me." She fumbles around in the hoodie still tied around her shoulders like a cape. "But I think I'm gonna have to tell Trixie and Giovanni about the squid."

"You're--!"

But Molly's already gone. He gives Percy a sort of desperate, frustrated look, only getting her usual flat expression in reply. Sylvie huffs, and braces himself.

Sylvie's chin drops forward before he jolts upright and alert, coughing violently into his sleeve. He always thinks this time he'll be prepared for the smell, but it never gets any better--though he supposes that's the point. Doesn't make it any less unpleasant, and it sticks in his nose for what feels like forever.

"Oh! Hello!"

He looks up from his hacking fit to see Rick, sitting in the dentist's-office-looking chair where they'd left him nose-deep in a comic book. He's grinning, as usual.

"That was very strange to watch!"

Sylvie swipes at his nose with his jacket sleeve. "Mhm." He takes a moment to get his bearings, then stands, glancing over to find Molly and Percy already on their feet, Molly pulling a face (presumably also at the salts).

Rick puts the comic book facedown on the table next to him and hops to his feet, clapping his hands together eagerly. "So! Did you find anything?"

Percy bows her head grimly. "I regret to inform you that your mind appears to be full of cephalopods."

Rick continues grinning. "I fail to see the issue!"

"No, we didn't really find anything," Molly says, playing with the fur on the sleeves of her hoodie, "I'm sorry."

"Oh." Rick's smile lessens slightly in intensity, and there's a flicker of disappointment behind his sunglasses--but it's gone so quick Sylvie can't be sure he'd actually seen it. "That's fine."

"Really?"

"Certainly!" Rick puts a hand over the heart patch on his jacket, which is on the wrong side. His face turns stony as if he's giving a soliloquy. "I may not have my memories, but I do have something far more important."

"Oh boy," Sylvie mutters.

Rick's eyes go impossibly wide, and his smile shows more teeth than it's supposed to. "FRRRRRIENDSHIP!!!"

He says it like it's a be-all end-all and also probably a curse, leaning towards Sylvie. Sylvie quickly leans away. Rick's friendship sights had been seemingly really set on him recently for whatever reason. It was weird enough that Molly was willing to hang around with him.

"Now, we are BONDED," Rick bellows, throwing a fist to the sky. "The four of us are closer than EVER BEFORE! You cannot hope to escape the ties of our camaraderie!"

"Uh-huh," Sylvie grumbles.

"We might not have found your memory, but on the bright side we saw tiny octopi in the first stages of forming a society!" Molly beams. "You know, before the inevitable corruption sets in."

Rick clasps his hands together. "Oh, lovely!"

"They were quite adept builders," Percy agrees. "Howie would be proud, assuming I left out all the safety violations."

"Howie? Who is this Howie?"

"You'll know him when you see him." Percy waves a dismissive hand, turning towards the door. "Now, I believe it's time for some sustenance following our Sisyphean exertions."

Molly laughs nervously. "From...the cafeteria, right?"

"Yes, I am afraid I have not gathered any pinecone treats recently."

Molly sighs in relief. Rick raises a hand. "What is a pine cone?"

"I'll have to show you when I get some more," Percy says with a warm smile. Molly shakes her head very aggressively behind her. "They make a delightful healthy snack."

"We should go," Sylvie says, and thankfully the others agree without any further protest.

The four of them leave for the cafeteria together, Molly lagging behind. Sylvie slows down to walk with her, and she looks up at him with a grateful nod. Though it was destined to remain a secret, Rick's talk about bonding might not have been too far off the mark--they have a mystery to solve now, together.

#epithet erased #epithet week #sylvester ashling #molly blyndeff #percival king #rick shades #my writing

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skybluewritings · 3 years ago

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Christmas wishes part 9 fake dating au, Andrew garfield!peter parker x fem!reader

Final Part

warnings: angst overload

word count: 1.7k

(Name) hadn't seen Peter since he had abruptly left the night after they slept together. She'd had to hide how broken she felt when she lied to her family about why Peter had to leave early. Her mother was the only one who guessed what was wrong, she had cried so hard into her mother's arms that her chest ached.

"Are we not doing christmas eve with the Parkers?" Her father asked glancing up from his newspaper.

"No dear not this year." Her mother answered.

Her father furrowed his brows. "How come? We've spent the last two with them?"

"They're busy." Her mother lied casting a nervous glance at (Name).

"How strange." Her father muttered returning to his newspaper.

She stared gloomily into her bowl of cereal. Christmas eve with Peter and his aunt were usually really fun, it was a shame they wouldn't spend it together. It had been only a few days since they'd spoken and she missed her friend terribly. Were they even still friends? What could she call this relationship they now had. They weren't lovers or friends, so what were they?

She never should have asked him to pretend to be her boyfriend, that's what led to them sleeping together in the first place. Part of her wished she could forget the whole experience they shared that night. The other part of her wished to hold onto the memories for as long as she lived.

The door bell rung snapping her out of her melancholy trance. Her father went to answer the door, she doubted it was anything interesting.

"(Name) there's someone here who wants to speak to you." Her father called.

"You don't think it's..." She swallowed.

"You better go see, no matter what happens you'll be fine in the end I promise." Her mother warmly said.

"I hope so too." She agreed standing up from the kitchen table.

"He's such a polite young man, you should really date him already." Her father suggested walking passed her. The truth was much more complicated than that.

"Hey." He greeted sheepishly smiling.

"Hi." She replied not bothering to smile back. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I had to see you, I missed you..." He admitted rubbing the back of his neck.

"That's still no excuse to come here. Just leave me alone ok, you've done enough." She wearily said.

"Please just give me two minutes. Two minutes of your time I swear." He implored. She cursed his brown doe eyes for always winning her over.

"Fine, make it quick." She sighed.

He took his hands in hers, they felt so warm. "I'm so sorry for walking out on you the first time we slept together. And then for everything that was said. The truth is I lied to you, it was the best night of my life. I was just afraid of letting myself become close with someone again."

Her heart sped up, he did care about her. After how he'd treated her, she had to conceal her sudden excitement.

"Last time I checked we were already best friends?" She pointed out.

"You know what I mean close in a different way. You're the first person I've slept with since...that actually meant something and that scared me." He whispered.

Her face softened. "Why couldn't you have just tell me that, after we slept together I would've understood."

His bottom lip trembled. "If I told you that then it would become too real. The truth is I've always had feelings for you which meant I was constantly trying to prevent anything further happening. Then we slept together and we weren't just friends anymore, we were more. I've lost so many people I care about: gwen, my parents, uncle ben. I thought if I stopped myself from being with you then I could spare you from what happened to them."

"Something may not even happen to me."

"But there's always a chance if I'm around you it will. If I lost you I don't even think I would be able to carry on. You'd be the final thing to break me." He admitted the pain clear in his tone.

She cupped his cheek with her palm, he leant into her touch. "I'm so sorry that you've had to carry all of this inside you and I know it must've been hard, but where does that leave us?"

"I still don't think we should be together."

"That's ok I'll wait until you ready." She assured him, tracing his cheekbone with her thumb.

He shook his head. "No, you might be fine with not being with me now, but what happens in 5 years when you're still waiting? Or 10 years when you want to get married?"

"I don't care about that!" She cried. "I just want you to stay in my life. I'll have you however I can."

"I don't think we should even be around in eachother's lives anymore."

"What?!"

"I want you to live a full and happy life, without the possibility of you not being here tomorrow. You'll never be safe if I'm around you. You deserve to have someone who can give you the commitment and love you deserve!" He exclaimed.

"So this it then?" She breathed her vision clouding over.

"Yes." He muttered.

They both fell silent, she could hardly believe this was where it ended. She had found the guy who was her soulmate in every sense of the word just to have him cruelly snatched away. But this was life and sometimes the right person could come along at the completely wrong time.

Although she didn't agree with Peter, she knew he would endlessly torture himself with guilt about her safety and wellbeing if they became friends again. He would always be miserable. She would rather be apart from him if it meant he could be happy.

She threw her arms around his middle and pressed her face against his chest as she started to sob. He pulled her closer against him, his chin resting on her head.

"Please tell me what I mean to you." She begged.

He shook against her, he was crying too. "I've always had feelings for you, even that time back in sophomore year when I told you I didn't feel anything for you. I adore everything about you. You're warm and kind and funny. You're insanely beautiful especially on that amazing night we had together. Even before we were friends when it seemed like I hated you that wasn't true, I've always thought you were the coolest fucking person."

She clung tighter to him. "Stop saying such romantic things to me you're making this so much harder." She scolded voice cracking.

Peter laughed weakly. "That day where you first knocked on my door was the best thing to happen to me in a really long time. You showed me I could be happy again and for that I'm so grateful." She gazed up at him, tears slipped down his face. "Can I kiss you for real just once, it was too rushed the last time. I always imagined our first kiss differently."

"Of course you can." She said with a sad smile.

He gently cupped her face and pressed a delicate yet firm kiss to her lips. He tipped her head to the side, to deepen the kiss. It was slow and sensual. When they parted he pecked her cheeks then her neck then one last time on her lips.

He pulled back from her, she took in his appearance one final time. She memorised every curve and contour of his face. She memorised the softness of his lips and the feel of his hands against her body. She memorised the way he laughed and the way he smiled and the way he cried. She recorded volume upon volume of details on him inside her mind.

"Goodbye (Name)."

"Goodbye Peter."

He turned back to look at her one last time. "I'll never love anyone like I love you."

"I know, me too." She promised.

Note: Hii everyone thank you so much for reading my work it means alot! I know the ending is sad however I will be writing a sequel so be prepared for the story to continue;)

Tags:

@prettiestmark

@brutal-in-here

@mell-bell

@spoonerhead

@lokisthvr

@ohashley101

@mournthewicked

@omgcygnusssstuff

@deafeningnightcollection-things

@navs-bhat

@kdatthecastle

#andrew garfield!peter parker x reader #andrew garfield #peter parker x reader #andrew!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker x reader #the amazing spider man x reader #the amazing spiderman #marvel #spiderman no way home #fake dating au #fake dating #enemies to lovers #angst #fluff

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bruhstories · 4 years ago

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Dazed and Confused

Summary: You and Connie have been friends for ten years, crushing on each other like a bunch of idiots who can't confess their feelings for one another. Until you go on a trip with your friends. Pairing: Connie Springer x Fem!Reader Warnings & Content: 18+, language, oral sex (female & male receiving), unprotected sex, weed smoking, alcohol consumption, f l u f f Word Count: 4.2 k

A/N: I got so pissed at that last anon that I finished this oneshot quicker lol. @fiaficsxo here it is!

You loved parties. Not the loud music and thick smoke, not the booze and smell of vomit, but your friends. Every time they gathered at someone's place, your heart fluttered, filled with happiness and content and long-lasting memories.

Connie had the brilliant idea of spending a week in the mountains during your spring break, and you wasted an entire night searching for the perfect cottage to rent. Luckily everyone was down with his suggestion, the only problem was how you'd sleep. Historia obviously wanted to share a room with Ymir. Mikasa and Eren were an item now, so they'd have to sleep together. Armin wanted to try his luck with Annie, so no one objected to that. Jean declared that he wanted to bunk with Connie, like the two eligible bachelors they were, and that left you and Sasha to share a room together. You didn't mind it, in all honesty you loved Sasha with all your heart — but you secretly hoped someone would pick up on your feelings for Connie and let you sleep with him. You weren't that lucky.

You packed your bag the night before the trip, obsessively ticking everything on your list and double checking every item and pocket. It was ready, with one item missing — the white lace babydoll smoothed on your dorm bed. You chewed the pen cap, debating whether to bring it with you or not. You bought it for special occasions, but you haven't had a dick appointment in a long time, and you doubted you'd have one this week. With a shrug, you decided to bring it — you never know what might happen. Nighttime passed quickly and you soon found yourself all dolled up, albeit still sleepy from all the tossing and turning, excited to make more memories with your friends.

The train station was packed with people, especially students who went back to their hometowns for the break, and you were relieved to find Armin and Mikasa there. You three were always punctual, followed by Jean and Annie. Eren, Sasha and Connie were always late, which is why you told them the train leaves at 7 am instead of 7:30. It was a dirty strategy, but no one wanted to miss such a fun opportunity because of those lazy fuckers. And lo and behold, they decided to appear at 7:15.

"That was some good thinking." Jean shook his head, hand sympathetically placed on your shoulder.

"I'm only glad you guys rolled with it." You laughed without noticing the way Connie stared at you, and even he didn't understand exactly what he felt. Was he grumpy because he hated morning, or was it Jean's hand on you that irked him?

"It's not polite to stare." Sasha pulled Connie out of his thoughts.

"I wasn't staring, I was looking." Connie rolled his eyes, gripping the handle of his suitcase a bit too tightly.

"I just don't get it why you don't tell her you like her." The girl popped a bubblegum baloon, proceeding to chew it very loudly.

"Are you kidding me? She obviously likes Jean. Look how she's laughing!"

Sasha placed an arm on his shoulder, a sheepish smile on her face. "You, my friend, are a dumbass."

"Takes one to know one."

To say that your friends were loud during the train ride was an understatement. They didn't really care about the nasty glares other passengers shot at them, opting to talk, sing, eat and practically embarrass themselves. But two hours later you arrived, and the fresh, crisp air of the mountains was a blessing. You didn't regret coming, all of you deserved a break after all the exams, studying and all-nighters you guys pulled.

"We could visit the military museum!" Armin suggested, but Connie scrunched his nose.

"We came here to get high, drink and spend time together, why the fuck would we visit some old ass building?"

"I'd like to go to the museum." You awkwardly smiled, earning a 'see?' from the blond. Mikasa, Eren and Annie backed you up, and since it was a democracy, you ended up leaving your bags at the cottage and touring the small town to find the military museum. The building wasn't massive, and inside it was dark, with crimson carpets and dim lights. It was actually quite a romantic atmosphere, had it not been for the weapons and armours displayed in glass cases. Connie watched you intently, taking in every movement, every flinch, every hair tucking, every scrunch of your cute nose. You absorbed the information, hungry for knowledge. This was something you and Connie didn't share — yes, you were down to drinking and smoking, but you were also eager to learn and study, while he always preached how 'you can always retake an exam but you can't relive a party.' He wasn't stupid by any means, but unlike you, Jean, Armin and Mikasa — who alwaysstudied and never skipped lectures — Connie would wing it and somehow end up getting better grades. His strategy didn't always work, and sometimes, when you were in college, he'd ask you to tutor him. Now you were second year undergraduates, and while you were studying different subjects, you still made time for each other.

"That's a nice, uhh..." Connie squinted, "...shotgun."

"It's a musket." You chuckled, your fingers accidentally brushing his as you turned around to face him.

"Shotgun, musket, same thing."

"Actually, muskets are muzzle-loaded and fire a single bullet, but shotguns pack multiple pellets in one shell." You explained. "I'm sorry, you're probably not interested in my ramblings."

"No, no, it's... interesting. I just wasn't expecting you to know so much about guns." He rubbed his nape and smiled at you.

"Well, I do study history, in case you forgot."

"How could I forget that?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" You awkwardly elbowed Connie. Why was it so hard for you to just tell him your feelings? Oh, right, because you've been friends for ten years and if he didn't like you back, it would only ruin a great friendship.

"It means you brag about it so much it's kind of hard to forget." He told you, quickly realising just how insulting that sounded.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know that's how you felt..." You sighed, eyes darting back to the weapons.

"No, I didn't- forget it." Connie shook his head. Well played.

Back at the cottage, with enough food and booze to last the group a month, you decided to stay in your room for the rest of the day. It wasn't the first time you had embarrassing moments with Connie, but this particular one made you anxious to be around him. Did he really dislike you that much, or was it just friendly banter? If you were to ask him, you could find out, but every scenario in your head had a bad outcome, so avoiding him for now was the smartest choice. Sasha pleaded with you to spend the evening in the living room with everyone else, but you brushed her off, telling her you weren't feeling quite well.

"Text me if you need anything." She told you before leaving. It was immature to act this way, you knew that all too well, but it wasn't like Connie cared, right? You eventually decided to go downstairs after finishing a long episode of your favourite tv show, your stomach begging for nourishment. As silently as possible, you tiptoed behind the couch. The hallway was dim, the sun had already set, and the only lights were the ones from the wide TV screen in the living room where your friends were watching some corny horror movie. You could cut the suspense and tension with a knife, and when you dropped a teaspoon, everyone jumped.

"Sorry, sorry! It's just me!"

"Jesus Christ, Y/N, you almost gave me a heart attack." Jean got up from the floor and walked behind the couch. "How are you feeling? Sasha said you're ill."

"I'm fine, don't worry." You picked the spoon up and threw it in the sink. "It's just a headache, I'll sleep it off."

"Good, we need you here." The man wrapped an arm around you. "You're missing how Connie's crapping his pants at this shitty movie."

From the outside it would seem like you and Jean were a couple, but the truth was far from it. You two grew up together, his family was friends with your family, and what you had was nothing more than a brother-sister relationship. Jean's little remark earned a disgruntled look from Connie, you quickly picked up on that, and so you playfully jabbed him in the stomach.

"Connie's crapping his pants? You're the one who almost had a heart attack." You grinned.

"Oi, that was only because you dropped your stupid spoon. I was invested in the movie."

"Mhm, sure you were."

"Hey, you sure you don't want to join us?" Mikasa waved at you from the living room. You pondered over her question. Perhaps it wouldn't be too awkward to sit with them.

"Alright, sure, why not?"

"Come, sit next to me." Sasha shuffled to the side, but what she really meant by that was 'sit next to Connie', because she shuffled to the otherside.

The following two nights were surprisingly quiet, all you did was play board games, watch movies and walk around the town taking pictures. The tension between Connie and you seemed to dissipate, and you both forgot the unpleasant interaction you had on the first day. But on the fourth night, that's when shit hit the fan. Annie and Armin left for a date, and Eren and Mikasa wanted to spend the night alone in their room, leaving you, Sasha, Jean and Connie unsupervised, bored and tipsy. There was absolutely nothing good to watch on the TV, and you almost wanted to scream when your friends wanted to play truth or dare. It was one of those games you despised, because the whole point of it was to put the players in uncomfortable situations. And you didn't like being uncomfortable, unlike your friends.

"Jean, truth or dare?" Sasha beamed.

"Dare, duh."

"Alright, I dare you to switch roommates for the rest of the week." She sipped her blackberry cider.

"Okay? So, I'll stay with Y/N, then."

Good lord, if looks could kill, Connie's would annihilate Jean and Sasha off the face of the Earth.

"No, no, you'll stay with me. Y/N will stay with Connie."

"Eh? Why does your dare involve us?" You asked, confused and curious of your friend's proposal.

"Because." She shrugged. "Don't pussy out."

"I'm not pussying out. A dare's a dare." Jean scoffed. "I'm gonna go take my shit in your room and shower."

"Y-yeah, I'll go bring mine, too." You got up, using this time to hyperventilate alone. What the fuck was Sasha even thinking? Was this some stupid joke? But your friends wouldn't harm you, so why would she suggest such a stupid thing?

You took a quick shower before curling up in the bed, blankets covering you from neck to toe. Connie wasn't back yet, and you didn't want to go after him, that would just be odd. You were hoping you'd fall asleep before he returned, to avoid any unnecessary fuss, but just as you closed your eyes, the door opened. Maybe you could pretend you were asleep? He struggled to find his pyjamas in the dark, stumbling over furniture and knocking things down, and you turned the bedside lamp on to ease his search.

"Did I wake you up?" Connie bit his lower lip, and through the dim light you watched the way his grey eyes glistened, the way his short brown hair was ruffled, and how the sage green t-shirt hugged his toned abdomen.

"No, no, 's alright. I wasn't sleeping. I can't exactly fall asleep." You clutched the blanket at your chest as you shook the intrusive thoughts away. Connie was your friend, damn it, there was no room for romance between you.

"I can sleep on the floor if you want."

"Oh, God, no, it's... stiff."

"Um, yeah, it kinda is. Alright then, I'll jump in the shower real quick before going to bed." He stumbled into the bathroom and you really wanted to fall asleep now.

But you couldn't. Every time you closed your eyes, Connie's face popped in your head. So much for resting. You tossed and turned on the mattress, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in, but nothing helped. It didn't take long for him to finish his shower, and you mentally chastised yourself for not falling asleep when you felt him shuffle under the same blanket that was covering you. For a minute, you didn't utter a word, you barely breathed, afraid to disturb the silence in the room.

"Are you asleep?"

"Nope." You heard the click of Connie's phone and turned around. You couldn't see him, but you could hear him.

"Do you wanna talk about something? Until we fall asleep, I mean." You suggested.

"Hmm, sure." He turned on his side and you felt his breath fanning over your cheeks. You were too close to him. "Actually, d'you wanna smoke?"

"Aren't the others gonna be mad if we smoke without them?"

"They don't have to know. Besides, you and I never smoked together." Connie was already up, rummaging through his backpack with the flashlight of his phone. "And then we can talk as much as you want."

"Alright, I'm down."

You laid on the floor, your head next to Connie's as you looked at the ceiling, smoke leaving your lips. He took the joint from you, fingers touching yours and you blushed, the haze of the weed melting your worries away.

"Do you want me to skip the song?" Connie asked, and for a moment you forgot there was a song playing.

"No, I like it." You confessed. "I didn't know you liked Led Zeppelin."

"There's lots of things you don't know about me, Y/N." He passed you the joint.

"Okay, tell me something else I don't know."

"I like it when you randomly say historical or scientific facts."

"Didn't you say I brag too much about it?" You took one final drag before you stubbed the joint out in a makeshift ashtray filled with a bit of water. By this point you were high as a kite, every trace of rationality gone.

"That doesn't mean I don't like it." Connie smiled and you could feel it in his voice. "Now you tell me something I don't know about you."

"I can't sleep with open doors. It freaks me out." You sat up, a breeze blowing through the window sending shivers down your spine. "It's a bit cold, do you mind if I close the window?"

"Go ahead."

You got up and picked the ashtray up but before you could close the window, you stumbled over a chest of drawers, the ashes mixed with water spilling over your t-shirt.

"You okay?" He quickly crawled to you, concern written all over his face.

"Yeah, I'm just clumsy." You laughed it off and waved your free hand. "I'll go get changed, I should have a spare shirt."

But you didn't have a spare shirt. All you had was that stupid white babydoll, and anxiety seeped through your veins. You couldn't exactly show up in that in front of your crush. And you didn't want to ask him for a shirt either. Fuck it, what else could you do?

You peeked out the bathroom door and saw Connie back in bed, lazily scrolling through his phone. God, this was embarrassing.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." He laughed, but when your facial expression didn't change, he frowned. "Y/N?"

"Um, so, I didn't have a spare shirt and- Jesus, this is awkward." You opened the door and his eyes widened. "Is it alright if I sleep in this?"

"Oh, I get it now." Connie scoffed.

"Get what?"

"You were hoping you'd share a room with Jean, right?" He sounded almost disgusted.

"Excuse you? Where did you even get that idea?" You slammed the bathroom door shut, arms folded across your chest.

"I'm not stupid, Y/N. I've seen the way you two act. Do yourselves a favour and just fuck already."

You were speechless. Completely reactionless. The weed amplified your anger, but his words brought tears to your eyes.

"You... you fucking asshole! You think I brought this for Jean? I brought it for you!"

"Eh? M-me?" Connie was confused, and you were pissed.

"Yes, you. Jean's like a brother to me, oh my God! Ew!"

"Wait, so you and Jean are not in love with each other?"

"In love?? Connie, how high are you exactly?" You walked closer to the bed, arms still crossed.

"But- Fuck, I am stupid." He shook his head, the memories of you flirting with him flashing before his eyes. "I fucked up, didn't I?"

"A bit..." Your muscles relaxed and you sat on the mattress. "Really, Connie, I... I like you. A lot. But you're always giving me mixed signals."

"That's because I always thought you liked Jean!" He threw his hands in the air in exasperation.

"No, you're the only one."

"Huh, guess I've really been dazed and confused."

Calloused fingertips ran across your hips leaving goosebumps in their trail. Your hands roamed his back and the way Connie kissed you was better than any high you've ever experienced. He was touch-starved, and you were just as needy. His knee found its place between your thighs and you moaned when it barely brushed your cunt.

"I've been dreaming for this moment for as long as I can remember." Connie breathed into your neck, the hot breath tickling your skin.

"Me too, you blind bat." You laughed and he turned you over, hovering over you.

"'M sorry I didn't notice quicker." He kissed you again. One hand travelled lower, pushing your underwear to the side before he pushed two fingers between your folds. "Fuck, you're so wet."

"Well, at least now I don't have to finger myself thinking about you." You whimpered with a grin.

"Oh?" Connie arched a brow. "Is that what you've been doing?" He curled up his fingers and you threw your head back with a moan. "I thought you were a prude."

"T-there's lots of things you d-don't know about m-me!" You replied back between oh’sand ah’s, imitating his words from an hour ago. That only earned a sneer from Connie, his head dipping between your thighs. "Wait, what are you do- ooh fuck!"

His tongue lapped at your cunt, fingers pumping in and out of you, and you completely sunk into the mattress, moaning his name over and over again. You gripped the sheets, flexing the muscles in your legs as you squirmed and thrashed. Connie stopped and you almost crushed his skull with your thighs at the empty feeling. He pulled your underwear down and shoved the cotton panties in your mouth.

"Don't wake everyone up, Y/N. You don't want them knowing what a little slut you are, do you?"

You shook your head and Connie went back to circling your clit with his tongue, adrenaline rushing through your entire body with each lick, each suck. Tears of pleasure pooled at your eyes, nose and cheeks red from the thrill of your incoming orgasm. The way he was sloppily eating your pussy and moaning while doing it drove you insane, and within seconds you came undone, thighs trembling with delight. In fact, you were so sore you had to push his head back, begging him to stop so you could return the favour.

"You taste so sweet." Connie licked his lips. You don't know what possessed you to pull him into a kiss after you removed the makeshift gag, but he was right, you were sweet.

"Can I...?" Your eyes drifted down to his twitching cock, your voice soft and quiet.

"You wanna suck it?"

"Yes."

"Later. Right now, I wanna fuck you."

Connie gave you no time to protest, his elbow pushed one of your things to the side, the blushing tip of his cock grazing over your overstimulated clit, up and down your slit. Inch by inch it disappeared into your cunt and he let out a satisfied sigh. You bucked your hips, manicured nails digging into his shoulders with each thrust.

"Shit, you're so fucking tight!" Connie growled, head lowering to kiss you. You could still taste yourself on his lips and that only made you clench your spongy walls around his cock. That seemed to please him, because he rocked his hips harder and faster. "You like it?"

"Oh, God, yes!" You gasped, beads of sweat forming on your forehead as you clawed his back.

"Fuck, I want you to ride me." He gripped your hips tighter and turned you over. You tried your best to get in the new position without letting his cock slip out of you, and when you finally adjusted yourself, it was a whole new challenge. Gravity pulled you down, and his tip brushed your cervix, your eyes squinting at the slight pain. "If it hurts, stop-"

"No!" You cried out, your hands resting on his chest. You bounced up and down, the uncomfortable feeling slowly replaced with pleasure. Connie's hands traced your thighs as you rode him, another wave of heat flushing through your core. His palm met your cunt, thumb circling over your clit. "I can't c-come again!"

"Yes, you can. And you will cream on my cock."

The disgust words worked like magic and you flexed your thighs, bouncing faster, head thrown back, hair cascading down your back. "You're so beautiful, Y/N."

"Connie, I-" The words stopped in your throat, the pressure too much for you to handle.

"You what?"

"I'm- oh, God!"

"Atta girl!" He praised you when he felt your silken walls relaxing and your thighs quaking. The second orgasm was so intense you let yourself fall over his chest, dizzy and tired. You thought he'd give you a break, but Connie wrapped an arm around your back, holding you in place before giving your oversensitive cunt a few more thrusts. "Now you can return the favour."

You mustered up some strength to get up and kneel in front of the bed, between his legs.

"Please don't come in my mouth." You asked him before wrapping your pretty lips around his cock.

"Gotchaah-" Connie choked on his words when he felt himself in your hot mouth. You bobbed your head up and down, cheeks hollowed and eyes on him. You didn't break eye contact when you pulled away and spat on the tip, hand pumping his cock to smear the spit. "Hot." He mumbled before you went back to sucking. You felt the throbbing, tightening your lips around him and picking up the pace. "Y/N-"

It all happened in a flash — Connie yanked your hair and pulled your head back, thick ropes of milky white cum shooting all over your face and neck.

"Eew!" You scrunched your nose, hand under your chin to stop it from dripping down the floor.

"What do you mean ew? That's, like, a billion kids!"

"Actually, a fertile man produces around-"

"Don't start. Do not." He pressed his index finger over your lips. "Let's get you cleaned up."

You woke up sore, especially between your thighs, but damn, was it worth it. Connie wrapped an arm around your waist, mumbling something about how pretty you are, but you assumed he was still sleeping — or still high. The sun shone through the blinds and you squinted, annoyed by the brightness, and so you turned around, watching the way your crush snored peacefully.

"Cute." You smiled and planted a kiss on his forehead, waking him up. "Oh, I'm sorry!"

"Why?" Connie rubbed his eyes. "Waking up to you is a blessing."

You couldn't hide the tinting of your cheeks and the grin on your lips. "I didn't think you were the romantic type."

"There's lots of things-"

"I don't know about you. But I'd like to know those things. If you let me, of course." You bit your lower lip, eyes filled with hope.

"Can I be your boyfriend?" He sat up, his eyes serious.

"I thought you'd never ask."

Okay, so maybe Sasha knew a thing or two when she dared Jean to switch roommates.

You walked into the kitchen after getting ready for the day, with Connie following behind you. Everyone was eating their breakfast, and Jean instantly dashed to you.

"Connie, bro, take me back. Sasha's leaving crumbs all over the bed! I can't sleep like that!"

"I can't, man, I wanna spend the rest of the week with my girlfriend." He sneered and you elbowed him.

"I forgot to mention Jean's overprotecti-"

"Your what? Hands off my sister from another mister, you creep!"

"Creep? You're the one who was sexting someone's sister last night." Sasha chimed in, mouth full of cereal.

"Thanks, Sash." Jean rolled his eyes. "For real, how did this happen?"

"You see, mate, when a man and a woman love each other-"

"Nope. I will not hear this."

#connie springer #connie springer x reader #connie x reader #aot #aot x reader #aot smut #aot x you #aot x y/n #connie springer x you #connie springer x y/n #snk #snk x reader #snk smut #snk x you #snk x y/n #connie x you #connie x y/n

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ares-would-be-proud · 4 years ago

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Izzy said: Fairy! Im so excited for your dark content!! Since i saw it on your other blog, may i request for yandere bertholdt 👀 i feel the would make the most unsuspecting but worst (or best?) Yandere next to armin because he's so gentle and unassuming and shy, no one would ever think he has other intentions

Yandere Bertolt pt.I

{ Bertolt x reader | tw:yandere, tw:toxic-behaviour, tw:near-death experince, tw:murder mystery? Eh kinda, tw:manipulation tw:Emotional-rollercoster | Dark romance, fluff, slowburn, lowkey funny ngl | Canonverse }

{ "Roses" 1878 by George Cochran Lambdin 1830–1896 }

Securing the last belt around your thighs before attaching it to the one near your knees, you made sure to tighten it as much as you can before sliding it in the metal head.

Having the equipment room all to yourself, you took your time in double-checking everything was in place. Making sure your gas tanks were filled, carrying spare steel blades and tightening your boot strings.

The manoeuvring gear's parts made a clinking sound against each other with every step you took. Making your way to the nearby woods acting as the training ground, the sun shining made you shield your eyes with your hands, taking some seconds to adjust to the brightness.

The road was clear, with almost no birds or squirrels in sight.

It was one of those days when the wind seemed so fast as it swept by you, so much in fact that you could visibly see the few clouds swimming by as if they're racing each other. A perfect day to spend near a lake maybe, or in a field of flowers, but you had to spend it training in the woods with the other soldiers till your fingers ached from pressing against the handgrips.

You wanted to get it over with, feeling nauseous. Probably because you managed to oversleep and miss breakfast.

It started as normally as any other training session went, pushing through till your autopilot took over. While fun at first, there's so much manoeuvring between tree branches to slash at 2d wooden cutout of titans you could do before it started getting repetitive.

And so you let your body take over and move on its own, taking you further and further towards the edge of the forest till you couldn't hear the sound of anyone else's manoeuvring gear except your own.

The high wind rustling the trees making the leaves fall distorted your visions as they fell on you, and the flashing sunlight that swept through the small openings between the leaves only made things worse.

Blinding you for split seconds, too bright in fact, that you had to close your eyes shut as it burned after the light fell directly against it.

It's only after a couple of seconds late, that the sound of something snapping registered in your brain.

You were slowly turning in the air, strong wind resistance coming from below as gravity pulled you down.

Things were moving too quickly to process, dread shot through your entire body in shivers, you could feel your heartbeat in the back of your throat as you came closer and closer to the ground.

No matter how many times your clammy hands attempted to work the pistol-shot, no hooks attached to the nearby trees despite the gears working as you heard its zipping noise.

The realisation of the situation you're in finally settled, you couldn't do a single thing, but watch the trees grow larger and larger by the second as you fell to your doom.

You've survived many expeditions and missions, you've escaped Titans teeth that were mere inches from biting your head off, and this is what will put you seven feet below? A mere fall?

...no, it wasn't just a fall, it was arrogance for taking it for granted. After all, overconfidence was a slow and insidious killer, sneaking on the second you let your guard down.

But was it?

A flash of today's morning comes before your eyes, your brain recalling the unusual spot your manoeuvring gear was placed, you were too sleepy to notice it at the time but now it's the only thing on your mind, did someone-

Before you could hit the ground, the familiar sound of pressured gas fizzling out followed by the clinking of metal swishing by.

One second you were almost slamming into the hard ground, the next you were caught by someone mid-flight.

Bertolt tightly pressed you against his chest with one arm, securing you in place while his other used his gear to reach the nearest tree branch.

Your hands wrapped around him, securing yourself even more. He didn't flinch when your nails accidentally scratched his neck from how hard you were holding him.

Despite how close you were to his chest, your own hammering heartbeat was the only sound you could hear for it was stuck in your throat as the adrenaline pumped through your veins.

You hesitantly let go the second your feet touched the ground, although still shaking you managed to find your balance again, yet, Bertolt's hand didn't leave your back.

You looked below at the wires dangling from your gear, their end visibly thinner than the rest of it. It still didn't register how a wire made out of iron could snap so easily…

Your thoughts were interrupted by the hand reluctantly turning your face back up, Bertolt's nervous eyes meeting yours.

"Don't look down too much, you'll get dizzy" he said, concern clear in his voice before stepping closer to you, his large body tucking you between him and the tree behind, as if you might slip away "are you okay? Did you get injured?"

A bit taken back by his dotting, you shook your head before thanking him for not letting you fall.

"Don't mention it please...it's nothing, really." That seemed to make the corner of his lips rise a bite, slight flushing to his ears. "Maybe you should get some rest, you didn't seem well back there."

Was he watching?

The thought disappeared from your mind as quickly as it came, the guy saved you from a head injury after all, the least you could do is give him the benefit of the doubt.

Not to mention, it was Bertolt. Has it been any other guy, Reiner or Jean for example, then your attitude towards this whole thing would've been completely different. Putting as much space as you can between the two of you after brushing off their hands.

Has it been any other guy...but it wasn't now, was it?

No. It was Bertolt, soft-spoken and easily flustered Bertolt, who got nervous in most situations and didn't reply to teasing.

Bertolt, who didn't say a thing when Eren stole his seat next to Reiner, instead settled to sit next elsewhere.

Bertolt, who always remained humble and downplayed his skills despite ranking in the top five and becoming a really valuable soldier.

Bertolt, who you've only ever said hi to before once before he seemed to panic and just awkwardly wave back instead.

Maybe that's why you didn't mind him being so close, he wasn't a threat and most everyone knew that. If you asked people to rank the top three men they'd feel safe in a room with, Bertolt would almost make it to everyone's top two.

And so when he offered to walk you back to your room, it didn't raise any red flags despite it meaning you'd be alone with him in the dorms while everyone was training.

The short walk went fairly nice actually, he kept a respectful space between you while making sure to walk at a slower pace so his height wouldn't force you to jog.

From the sweat collecting at his forehead and his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt he seemed to struggle to find a good conversation starter.

You could read him like an open book, it was quite endearing the way he commented over how nice the weather is, four times in a row while stumbling over his words. But you weren't that cruel and so you decided to grant him mercy, starting a topic yourself.

Talking about your interest, hobbies and things you'd do whenever those rare moments of peace and normalcy would arrive.

He shared his too, apparently, he's into journaling, finding it much easier to write his thoughts on paper than out loud.

One conversation pulled another, as he seemed to grow more comfortable the more you talked.

Although, he wouldn't meet your eyes for more than 5 seconds before turning his gaze away, yet you could feel them staring at you the second you turn your head.

Somewhere between your conversation, the subject switched to talking about life. Bertolt asked you if this is the kind of life you've wanted, words unusually firm that it made you pause.

The question was out of place, a huge switch from your previous fun topics.

Nonetheless, you answered, "I don't think anyone would willingly choose this life. It's more of...doing the most out of the cards you've been dealt, this just happened to be mine."

The sound of his footsteps stopped, you looked at his face, he didn't look away.

"Would you rather have a more normal life?"

The way he stood, his back to the sun with you in his shadow, an unreadable expression on his face, really brought out his height and large build that you've almost forgotten.

you unconsciously took a step back, he took a step forward.

"If by normal you mean a non-starving one where I'm not at the risk of being eaten daily, then yeah." You answered, time felt like it slowed down. The seconds stretched for too long as you watched his reaction.

He...smiled, a sincere smile, the kind that makes your eyes shine. Soft expression seemingly relieved as he continued walking, a slight bounce to his steps.

"I'd love that too, to have a normal life one day."

And then he proceeded to tell you about his dream, the normal life of peacefulness he seeks. Sharing as many details as time would allow, from the kind of person he wants to grow up to be, to the colour he wants to paint the house backyard's fence.

It was lavender.

When he mentioned wanting a dog, you couldn't decide what was funnier, the mental image of Bertolt with an equally almost as big kind of dog, or a small tiny breed that would fit in his hands. Taking him for walks and playing catch as the dog tackles him to the ground.

Some chuckles escaped your lips, and while Bertolt didn't know what you were smiling about, nonetheless he joined too.

Your time together was cut short when the dorms came into view. Feeling both relief for finally being able to rest and disappointment for having to end your conversation so soon, especially since you think this is the first actual talk you had with him besides saying hi before.

Bertolt, looking out for you, made sure to hold the door to your room open for you. Some part of your brain wondered how exactly he managed to guess which room was yours, the other simply couldn't wait to get into bed.

You sat on the bed, Bertolt invited himself in and closed the door behind him.

He took his time looking around your shared room with his eyes, staring at the titles of the books splayed on the table, taking in the smell of scented incense your roommate bought every month, the doodles, drawings and notes hanging by mere tape against the wall.

Finally, eyes landing on the top bunk bed, currently empty with your roommate having left too early in the morning for the preparations of their next expedition.

Well...after all you were too used to waking up by the sound of them opening and closing all the drawers in search of their glasses that they manage to lose each day, yet yesterday they made sure to sleep next to it.

Huh, maybe that's why you overslept.

Yet, Bertolt's eyes didn't move as he stared seconds too long, shoulders growing stiff and palms tightening against his side.

"They left for an expedition, a titan capturing one... I think." You explained, "it's supposed to last three days, but since it's led by Captain Hange...I wouldn't be too surprised if they still haven't left yet."

"Must be nice, having the room for yourself."

You agreed before adding "well, it still gets too lonely sometimes."

Bertolt looked like he wanted to say something, lips parting for a second before he pressed them close into a thin line.

An awkward silence filled the room, as you looked at Bertolt who seemed to revert back to his old nervousness.

"I think I should go, Reiner must be looking for me."

You thanked him again for his help, he avoided your eyes before mumbling a reply, saying it's really nothing.

Did you do something wrong? You couldn't help but think that, after all things were going so well just now. Why would he get on edge again?

As a final attempt to redeem yourself from whatever unknown act you must've committed for Bertolt to act this uncomfortable, you called out to him one last time.

"Hey, Bertolt. I know we technically just met but, just know you can drop by anytime okay? You seem like a nice person and we can be friends."

Oh god did you really say, we can be friends, what is this kindergarten again? Welp you fucked up, looks like it's another failure to add to the calendar, man and you've been keeping such a clean track of days without accidents.

You know what? No, forget it, you tried your best and you had good intentions so why should you ever feel guilty for-

"You really mean that?" Bertolt, whom

You've become aware was still in the room, said.

Not sure how to reply to this, you just gave a nod instead.

"I'd love that." He spoke with a soft tone. And despite his growing desire to move closer to you, he opened the door instead, sparing you one last sweet smile before he left.

And for a good minute there, his smiling face was all that occupied your mind, a fluttering feeling that came and went too quickly for you to acknowledge.

True to your predictions, the mission was apparently delayed till midnight for...undisclosed reasons. Although gossip spread faster than wildfire, and by dinner time everyone was talking about the argument Captain Hange and Captain Levi got into, the story got modified and exaggerated each time it was passed around.

"Listen, I was there and I saw it! Well...not with my own eyes but it doesn't matter." Your roommate said, too eager to spill you everything that they almost forgot to eat their food. "It was big, like Captain Miche having to restrain Levi kind of big!"

You gave them a silent look, raising an eyebrow.

"...okay jeez it didn't get this far but it felt like it did, like it almost happened." They poked their food with the fork, before deciding to try some.

Their pouting face almost made you want to tease them even more, just to see what corner you can back them into before they confess to making up half the story they've been telling you.

But a wrenching gut feeling suddenly shot through your body, coming almost out of nowhere, the kind you'd usually feel whenever a titan was targeting you.

Confusion was naturally your first response, there couldn't be any titans nearby. You swallowed down, no don't be silly, it doesn't even make sense.

Maybe...maybe it was one of those cases you studied in class? About people getting PTSD flashbacks at random times, or from small triggers?

The air seemed too cold and too hot at the same time, you forced your eyes to move around the room in an attempt to remind yourself everything is fine, that you're here.

Seeing your friends, fellow soldiers and veterans just sitting around, enjoying their food while joking with their friends, helped ground you to reality again.

Yeah...see? Nothing's wrong, everyone's having a good time so-

Your gaze met Bertolt's, dark eyes staring back but not at you. No, instead they were focused on your roommate. The knot in your stomach twisted.

Beside him, Reiner was murmuring something under his breath as he leaned closer to Bertolt, his stare following the other's gaze.

Reiner seemed unusual, drops of sweat collecting at his forehead while Bertolt was the opposite, the calmest you've ever seen him actually.

Reiner gave Bertolt one final look, lips moving too fast for you to attempt to even read. Bertolt nodded.

And then it was like nothing happened, both of them going back to their usual selves. Reiner's attention was stolen by Eren asking about his food, while Bertolt looked at Jean who sat next to him without asking before commenting on Eren.

"Hey, are you okay? You look…" your roommate said, concern in their voice before their hand found your forehead. "I heard what happened this morning, with the manoeuvring gear, I didn't want to bring it up but…"

You didn't have to be told twice, and so you reassured them it's okay, you'll get some rest, not like you'd complain about having an excuse to get a day off.

That seemed to make them satisfied, well...that and making you swear on the scouts' honour to take care of yourself while they're away.

After dinner, as you were headed to your room while your roommate had to get to the stable before heading out with their group, you passed by Reiner.

It wouldn't have been unusual, wasn't it for the fact he was fully in his uniform with gear ready that you had to do a double-take.

You swore you just saw him in casual clothes at dinner...was he also going on that mission? Huh, weird you can't remember seeing his name on the list.

The week passed by slower than you would've liked, with both of the survey corps Captains gone, most of the soldiers...really had nothing to do but waste time.

It was almost funny, wasn't it for the fact you were bored out of your mind.

Captain Miche rarely gave orders, the only time you'd see him is during training season when everyone had to do a round with him. While commander Erwin didn't really entrust soldiers who weren't close to him with his paperwork or even chores.

At least Sasha and Connie were making the most of it, whatever they were doing seemed fun…

Bertolt never took you up on your offer either, despite him seemingly having a positive reaction to wanting to be friends he didn't show up at all.

Yet you'd still see him hovering by, either being assigned the same chore together or simply happening to be in the same room at the same time. And despite how much you've thought about going up to him to start a conversation, you knew how to read between the lines. You didn't want to make him uncomfortable that's all.

He'll come when he's ready, is what you told yourself.

And well, you were right, eventually, he did.

Not only did he initiate talking, he even attempted to ask if you'd like to accompany him to the nearby town maybe.

With the way his hands were clasped behind his back and slight flushing to his cheeks as he summoned all his courage to ask you that, how could you say no?

It was almost like seeing an entirely different person.

Bertolt, in his casual clothes, as he strolled by you through the food stands, seemed a much more...healthier version of himself?

He looked at peace, the smile never leaving his lips. He even made jokes and shared his opinions without being asked.

Whenever you went to check something that stole your attention, he would quickly follow by to erase any form of distance. Whenever your eyes fell on a piece of accessories for too long, he'd suggest you try it on, putting it on you himself.

And yet, whenever his hand would brush yours by accident while walking, he'd almost stumble into the ground and quickly pull it back. Or the time you attempted to adjust the collar of his shirt and you swore his knees almost gave out when you stepped closer, reaching his neck.

Both of you tried different kinds of food, he even offered you his own if you seemed to enjoy a certain food. Saying he'd rather you have it.

Both of you being broke soldiers ment there are only so many things you can do in the town before quickly burning through your savings.

It wasn't long before he suggested going back, you agreed to take the long walk back to enjoy nature a bit more.

You've wondered how come Bertolt only seems the most comfortable when talking to you on walks, but the story he was telling you was too interesting for you to think about it now.

You listened to him talk, it felt like you could listen to him for hours on end before getting bored. For someone who rarely spoke, he surely did have a way with words when he actually did.

It was nice, comfortable and gave you a false sense of normalcy as if the world was okay for a short while.

One final thought you had just before the both of you parted to go to your separate rooms, was that if Bertolt was going to write about this day in his journal.

For each day of the remaining week, you and Bertolt managed to hang out more and more.

You went to the lake, a frog landed on him that you had to remove because he was too nervous he might crush it.

He took you to a nearby spot in the town, it seemed normal at first but he just told you to wait. Apparently, each after some dogs would frequent this spot and Bertolt has already made friends with most of them.

And on the last day, both of you actually just spent it...in his room. He had a really comfortable bed and feather pillows that you almost didn't want to leave. And despite sharing a bed he still would keep space between you, no matter the uncomfortable positions he had to sit in.

By the end of the week, the expedition group arrived during sundown.

Their heads lifted high, pride clearly across their faces as they rode their horses. Captain Hange especially seemed much more excited than usual, barely managing to stay still on their horse.

The mission was a success apparently, they've managed to capture two titans with zero mortality rate and minor injuries.

...well almost a zero rate.

You were called into Erwin's office in the middle of the night, when Moblit knocked on your door asking you to quietly follow him.

The night air was cold against your thin clothes, silence filling the usually busy hallways, now errly empty.

Knocking before he told you to enter, he seemed busy with some paperwork, instead offering you a seat and asking to wait shortly.

The curtains behind him were closed shut, the candle sitting on his desk seemed on the verge of burning out, melted wax collecting on the plate under it.

It wasn't till after some seconds that you realised you weren't alone in the room, Captain Levi was leaning against the wall on the other side, arms crossed.

The scratching of the pen against the papers would occasionally get replaced with the sound of dipping the metal head inside the liquid ink container, carefully wiping it against the opening to remove any overflowing liquid.

Your fingers fiddled with the red cushion on the armchair, leg slightly bouncing before you force it to stop each time.

Waiting...and waiting.

The back of your throat felt scratchy, only becoming aware of how dry your mouth was then. Attempting to swallow down as a form of relief didn't help much.

"Here, drink it." A glass of water was offered to you by Levi, handing it to you before going back against the wall.

Saying a small thank you before finishing the glass, you felt slightly better afterwards. Although the growing tension in the air didn't help ease your mind.

"Cadet." Erwin clasped his hands, "I apologise for calling you here this late, although considering the circumstances I'm sure you'd understand."

Opening one of the desk drawers, Erwin pulled out something wrapped in a napkin, the white cotton having a growing reddish stain in its middle.

"I offer my condolences."

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hobipaint · 3 years ago

Text

Graffiti and Chalk- two

summary: You thought you knew him. You thought him gone. Kim Taehyung was part of you that you had carefully suppressed, keeping his memories to one box near the wall of your mind. That was your fault, though - empty walls demand for art. And who other than your own neighbourhood vandal?

↳ pairing: ex police student turned vandal! taehyung x officer! female reader

↳ genres: angst, fluff

↳ word count: 9.6K

↳ disclaimers: pg15!, vandalism, police officers, criminal past and heavy discussion of it, mentions of character deaths.

one | two

a/n: FINALLY AFTER A MONTH IT'S HERE! This took me really long to write but I'm pretty satisfied with how it turned out : it's my longest work yet, and I feel like it would be among my best as well hehe. a massive thank you to @kookiestarlight because i swear i completed this in the first place because of tasha, @swcetnight who pointed out exactly where I need to elaborate stuff and places in which I was loosing parts of the plot because did I forget the whole storyline while writing this 🤡, @vaekth because this bby is absolutely amazing. she's supported me throughout the process of writing this, thank you so much!! thank you to @taecup-fics for beta reading this at the last minute and pointing out a bunch of grammatical errors because otherwise this would be a mess to read 😭 to everyone who has waited - I'm so sorry that it came this late, I suddenly had a bunch of exams that were announced and had to focus on those. Hopefully this lives up to your expectations!! Enjoy reading :)

Morning often dawns with a feeling of hope. With wistful sights of sunrise. Flowers open up to the golden haze that thaws the frost of the night. Birds roam the skies that had been but mysterious domains in the dark. People wake up with groans about the impending day, hopeful for it to end soon. You hoped for your mornings to always be similar to this- some constants were needed in places where you had cases as bewildering as missing pumpkin plushies piling up in your office.

Your morning today, though, was much different. Much to your annoyance.

You held the coffee you had brewed for yourself - another espresso, the universe knows you needed it - and handed one to Taehyung just as the cuckoo perching on the clock shrilly announced that it was eight in the morning.

"Do you still have no answers for me, Y/N?" Taehyung looked at you. His eyes were sullen - no signs of the cheekiness that had peeked at you last night. Scattered rays fell across his body, highlighting the sunken cheeks, brooding eyes and tight smiles you could now see better in the daylight.

You sighed- probably for the millionth time this night. "I do not understand your question, Taehyung."

"You remember it. I've asked you thrice since I saw you again, Y/N. Do you not remember anymore? Do you not care for me? Was our idea of us nothing for you?" He looked at you with a myriad of emotions written all over his face- you looked away, not wanting to see them.

Sighing, you gathered your thoughts the best you could. "Like I said, Taehyung." You looked at him- looking at the person you once fell in love with. The feeling you felt today, though, was much different. There was a feeling of running towards him, taking him in your arms and remembering who he was to you all over again, but it was overwhelmed by the confusion you felt - should you prioritize a past that wanted answers, or a future that was unsure? For now, you chose none pushing the time to make that decision further ahead. "We were an 'us' for only a few hours. Until you stood me up."

He rolled his eyes."That wasn't intentional, Y/N."

"And how was I supposed to know that, Taehyung? I thought it was, since you had never told me anything beforehand."

Taehyung's eyebrows bunched together, as if coming to hear the stories that his eyes longed to tell- stories of events that you had never seen and never known. "Would you not hear me out, even once? For the sake of our old love?"

You bristled. "What love, Taehyung?" You got up to stretch your legs out, looking at the patchwork blanket that was stuffed in the corner. You had taken that for your first date with Taehyung, planning to cuddle with him and watch the stars - a date that never happened. "What love? A love where you don't speak to me for weeks, and then vanish for some crime? We were young then, and I got hurt then as it is. There's no need to go over this right now."

"That was not my fault, Y/N. You know that." Taehyung seemingly sunk back into his chair, eyes downcast. "I had said I loved you. Before I ever went out with you."

"Like that matters,” you scoffed, “what's the point in reminiscing promises from an old love?"

"At least, hear me out?" He looked up at you with hope sprinkled in the abyss of his eyes. "I don't want you to forget me."

You turned back to your chair, tearing your eyes away from the blanket that was now a pale blue in the sunlight - a few shades lighter than the cerulean colour it would be in the afternoon. "Not now, Taehyung."

Taehyung sighed, looking at the floor, tension exhaled into the room. He sat silently for a few seconds, the ticking clock announcing each moment clearly to you. "That's fair. It's just.." He looked back at you. "I'm used to thinking of you as the person I loved." He nervously let his eyes pan around the windows, gazing at the sunshine that streamed through the window, before turning back towards your gaze. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I'm just really grateful for your presence-"

"Taehyung." You sharply interrupted him. "Two years ago, when your case was reopened for investigation. Who did that?"

"They told me that it was a well wisher in the neighbourhood. Another jailor said it was for good behaviour." He shrugged.

You scoffed aloud, more loudly than you would have liked him to hear.

He frowned, lips drawn in a tight line in annoyance. "Don't believe me? I'll have you know, Y/N, I was among the most well behaved at prison. Absolutely no tantrums. I even ate the salt-less, disgusting food they'd give there. No crying. Nothing. I can show you later on if you want, I think I have a report stuffed somewhere here," He got up, shuffled towards his bag and checked the last zip, hunting for a report you had never heard of.

"It was me."

Taehyung whirled around to face you, unruly hair swinging like the seats of a carousel at a carnival, and raised an eyebrow. "What were you?"

"I was the one who insisted on opening the case for reinvestigation, the case of your stepfather's assault. Went around collecting evidence, searching for people who knew about your family better, getting their voices recorded, finding about the whole deal to frame you and stuff. Nearly got fired." You shrugged, sipping your espresso and wincing- too bitter. "You're welcome, by the way. The coffee is getting cold."

"I don't care about the coffee." He moved the cup aside - nearly spilling the liquid, roughly settling back into the seat he had been occupying for the last few hours. "You were the one who asked for re-opening the case?"

"Just said that."

He slumped back in his seat, and your eyes took in how he spread himself out on the chair, tiredness lacing his figure. "I didn't know that."

"Now you do." You said, sipping your coffee and watching Taehyung do the same.

Taehyung stared blankly at you, and you couldn't fathom what was swirling in those ebony orbs of his. "Why did you do that, Y/N?"

"Honestly," you smile softly at him, "I was expecting a thank you."

"You should have expected questions, Y/N. Why did you help me?" Taehyung's blank expression made way for a confused one, eyebrows furrowing and lips pouting.

"I did what I had to do as a-" You paused here, unsure of what to say. "As a friend, Taehyung, nothing more. I knew you were innocent-"

"How were you so assured?" He pressed on."I could be a complete 180 from the man I met you as. I could be fake. I could be an impostor. I could-"

"You could do a bunch of things, Taehyung." You stared him straight in the eye, trying to keep your emotions at bay. "But you could never tell a lie."

Taehyung scoffed. "You sound like one of the wishy-washy pick-me kind of girls in the movie. No, I don't lie, but I could."

You sighed. As much as you cared for Taehyung, you had never really cared for his argumentative attitude. "I went with the assumption that you were the same person I knew, Taehyung. The one whom I respected and trusted. I acted on that feeling."

"That wasn't trust, Y/N. It was naivety. You were naive to believe me." Taehyung paused, uncertainty lining his forehead as he spoke. "You shouldn't have trusted me."

You rolled your eyes- you couldn't understand why he was so desperate to make sure that you remained aloof from him. What had you done to be treated like that? What had he done to force everyone away from him?

You tried to play off his remaining doubts and frustrations as insecurities he developed while in jail, and moved on."Alright then, you impostor. I was naive to trust you. And even more naive to believe you. Happy? Now shush. I don't want to talk about this." You tried to clear your mind of any doubts you had about Taehyung, but his behaviour, the way he interacted with you - it couldn't help but increase the worry and confusion in your mind.

Taehyung leaned forward to look you in the eye before smiling softly at you - you couldn't understand why. You were going to give him a criminal record, maybe arrest him. You were potentially ruining his life again, and he smiled at you. "If you say so, officer." Taehyung said, settling into the chair - leaving your mind reeling with questions you weren't sure you wanted the answers to.

You opened the laptop again, wearily. "Let's get back to the questions; the sooner we finish this, the better. Where did you source the paint from?"

"You mean the graffiti? And chalk?" You nodded. Taehyung sighed."Terminology, Officer, terminology. Make no errors." He raised a finger to wave at you, as if to say no. You rolled your eyes -it seemed that you were the only one concerned about what would happen to him after this, because Taehyung quite clearly was not. "I bought it with the allowance money that was kept for me in the bank- as much as I hated that man, his cards proved to be useful."

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "You didn't steal it."

"No. Took it from my step-father's account. Technically, now mine. Apparently he left everything to his children, and I'm the only one alive that I know of. Maybe he had other children- I wouldn't doubt it for a moment if he had, but that doesn't change my right to his money either."

"Any other members of your family who had been granted access to that account?" You asked, wanting to make sure that there were no loopholes - you didn't want a future possibility of Taehyung being entangled with the wrong side of the law again.

He rolled his eyes, leaning further. "Curious little thing, aren't you? Like I'd told you last night, most of them are dead. Mom had died a few months before I was arrested - thanks to my stepfather being an alcoholic and taking everything out on her. Grandmother already had massive health issues - she passed away after two years of me being in jail - they had let me come out for her funeral."

"My siblings - a brother and sister, if you remember - were taken in by a distant relative, and the last time I spoke to them was three years ago. I'm not allowed to contact them because I might end up being a 'bad influence'," he air quoted the words, laughing mirthlessly. "Guess they won't be too delighted to see me again. You probably know about my stepfather - got drunk and passed out. Permanently. But yeah, that's all. I'm pretty much the sole benefactor from that account."

Hearing how nonchalantly he spoke about it, you were forced to maintain a strong face and be professional. You couldn't possibly think of even wanting to comfort him in any way. "So, you were absolutely not stealing."

"Nope. No. Not at all. Want any further repetitions?"

"That won't be necessary," You said, having typed out the information - tracking his expenditures would also be necessary now, apparently. "Any expenditure you make shall be monitored, now. Be careful."

"Always have been." He chuckled, getting back to spinning the glass on the table. "You know me."

You ignored him. "Your cards will be tracked, and any loose cash will be checked by us. If we feel that there's any room for suspicion, you will have reason to be monitored."

An odd silence filled the room while you tapped away at your laptop, filling in more details about the incident. Taehyung would be having a criminal record again, you thought to yourself. It was the only thought that echoed in your mind. It made you feel uneasy in a way, but you swallowed your unease down. There's a promotion to focus on.

"Taehyung, something has been bugging me since I caught you vandalising." You shifted a little bit, before deciding to spit out the question. "Why did you do it?" You leaned forwards on the table, elbows digging into the wood as you tried to grasp the answers from him.

Taehyung looked you in the eyes, and then looked away. "I don't know."

"You don't know." You raised your eyebrows, leaning back incredulously. "Taehyung, that's not an answer."

"I did it because I wanted to. It was fun. I'd see kids in the morning pointing at my graffiti work and they would like it. There would be people claiming it looked good. I felt acknowledged and I just-" He pleaded, unable to continue without pausing to recollect his calm. "I felt like doing it. After years of having questions raised at me for committing a crime I never did, I finally had people talking about the work I did. Even if it was just chalk drawings."

You exhaled in confusion. The Taehyung you had known - he was never like this. Confident, assured, independent. That was what he seemed to you when you were younger. And now, to see him want to be validated by others who never even cared for him- it felt ridiculous to you. Why was his only way of feeling validated involving something against the law? "Okay, then."

You went through the complaints that had been registered against him, hand resting against your forehead as you asked him the most commonly asked question. "Why the insignia 'V'?"

"V for victory?" He made a 'V' sign with his fingers, "I liked to think that I won against the world by rebelling against its sense of black and white. I saw everyone talk about it, and I felt like the same people who had once pointed fingers at me, blaming me for something I hadn't done, were now pointing fingers at something I had done - I felt victorious. I didn't need to show myself and possibly want more than I had already let myself have - this was enough for me."

You pulled your lips in a tight line, and hummed in response - there were two places that together had put in about twenty complaints, so you had to respond to all of them. You kept reminding yourself that neither did you have the space to feel sorry for him, nor did you have the power to say sorry to him. You simply kept your head turned to the screen, typing in answers to all the complaints.

Taehyung leaned forward after a few seconds. "What punishment do you think I'll get, Officer?"

"If the chief is feeling good, maybe you'll get community service, with a fine," You looked up at him. "Or maybe some time in jail."

"How much time?"

"Maybe a month or two?"

"Oh." Taehyung slumped back into his seat nonchalantly. "Cool then."

How was he this calm? You thought to yourself. He might be going to jail. For a second time.

"Yup." You shut the laptop, finally, after hours of typing information and recording it. Sighing, you lifted the porcelain mug once again to absolutely drain it of coffee, your rather loud gulps echoing in the silence of your office.

Taehyung tapped his fingers on the table- probably some old tune he had learnt before. You remembered that he played the saxophone - from nights of serenading tunes that he had played for you with his beloved instrument. "How long do you think the chief will take to reach here?"

"A few hours, maybe? I'd expect him around ten, to be honest. Nevertheless, let me check." You quickly called the chief on your phone, hearing his ringtone play some old Korean trot song before it was picked up.

"Hello, yes, yes, Y/N. I expected your call." A gravely, rather rough voice responded to you- like it hadn't been used for a few hours. "I shall be reaching the office around eleven. Keep Taehyung with you."

"Yes sir," you said, keeping the phone on your table and turning to Taehyung. "The chief said he'll be here by eleven."

Taehyung nodded in acknowledgement.

"It's nearly eight thirty now." You looked at the cuckoo clock again. "Would you like to freshen up?"

"Where?" Taehyung asked, eyes widening. "Shouldn't I just be at the office?"

"Yeah, you should. My place is right here- the back of this office is where I live, so you'll be fine." You look down at his clothes, grease, paint and metal shrapnel all over them. "Besides, you look like you need a change of clothes."

Taehyung stepped into your house with an air of curiosity, to see how his once classmate was living. His head stooped low to enter through the small door you had, eyes widening in surprise when he found that the hall of your house was larger than he had anticipated.

The house was quaint, a hall with an old couch which doubled as a bed when needed. There was a table in the middle of the room, too low to be a dining table and too high to be a center table. For coffee, maybe? There were maybe five or six magazines scattered haphazardly over it, covering nearly every inch- except for one corner, where Taehyung spotted a shining acrylic blue.

You, however, spotted what page you had left a magazine open at. Squeaking, "I'm sorry!" you ran to shut the booklet close, afraid that Taehyung would spot your love for shirtless men.

Picking up the magazines, you grinned sheepishly at him. "Just a moment! I'll be back, a bit of cleaning to be done, sit right here!" You patted the couch, trying to convince Taehyung.

Taehyung turned away from the pictures he had been observing- was there one of you both? - and nodded, eyes widening in surprise as he saw how you scuttled away to hide the magazines. He looked around again, taking a feel of your house- it seemed like the old you. There was some patchwork embroidery you had left in a corner, atop what seemed to be a showpiece? Taehyung stepped closer to see it in detail, and was amazed at the way you had managed to drag the red thread over and over the pink fabric to make floral designs. It reminded him of the rose he had been trying to complete the previous night, and he grit his teeth. He shouldn't be thinking about that now. That shouldn't be what he does anymore. No more.

You came back, looking quizzically at him. "Take a seat, Taehyung! It's alright."

"Uh, yeah." He shuffled over to the couch again. "Did you make that?"

You looked in the direction his finger pointed to. "Yeah. Tried doing embroidery for stress release purposes."

Taehyung grinned at you. "Stress release?" He asked, bemused.

"Yup." You said while making sure that the magazines were well hidden. "The department I wanted to be in was forensics, you know?" Taehyung nodded, he had been privy to most of your discussions about the advances in forensic technology and analysis - even if he didn't understand anything, he knew your love for it. "Well, they didn't allow me. So the whole 'stress' thing began." You walked back to him, making air quotes as you emphasized on stress. "My mother suggested embroidery would take my mind off it. So, that incomplete piece you see there?" Taehyung nodded, concentrating on every word that left your mouth. "That started a few days ago."

"It looks like it's complete, though- are you really good at it?" Taehyung looked at you again, turning back from the embroidery you were now rising to get.

"Pretty much? It's easy once you get the hang of it."

"Ah." Taehyung said, a dull silence settling into the room for a few moments as Taehyung looked around your room.

"That picture." He pointed, and you turned your head around. The picture he was focusing on was on your mantelpiece, resting happily. The frame had butterflies stuck on its corners, two large and two small. The border was white, now off white, and had pink dots in certain places. It was a picture of fireworks- red, yellow and blue mixing together in a dull sky to breathe life into the picture. And right in the middle, surrounded by this liveliness, were you and Taehyung. Beaming.

Taehyung turned to, finger still pointing at the picture. "That's our picture, right?"

You hummed in affirmation. "That's us, freshman party. We had known each other for a few weeks at this time."

"And I had stopped someone from asking you out, right?" Taehyung reminisced. "That was fun."

You snort. "You had punched him in the face when he asked for my name, Taehyung."

Taehyung smiled. "I didn't want anyone to harm you, Y/N, and he seemed like he would harm you." He spread out his arms and grinned smugly at you. "In a way, I rescued you. That night."

And so many other nights, you wanted to say. For all the time you had known Taehyung, he had been fiercely protective of you - for reasons he never truly told you. You didn't question it either, basking in the feeling of being wanted by someone.

You cleared your throat, hoping to clear your mind as well. "You should go take a shower, Taehyung." Glancing at the clock, you noted the time and motioned towards the washroom. "It's nearly nine. Go take a shower, call for me if you need anything. I'll go get some clothes for you."

Taehyung nodded, rising up slowly to go in the direction you pointed. "Towels are inside," you shouted after him, and he yelled in response to say he understood. In some ways, too many ways, he felt like the Taehyung you once knew.

You went to your room to pick out some clothes, opening your meager collection to salvage something that would fit Taehyung. Your eyes scanned over your uniforms, jumpsuits, jeans, t-shirts and finally landed on the hoodies- probably the largest collection in your wardrobe. Thankfully, you loved large, loose hoodies. You started pulling them out, holding each one up and imagining Taehyung's proportions in them.

The red one, with blue paw prints. "Nah. Too tight."

The black plain one. "That's mine, I'm not sharing that."

The grey ones- nearly three. You skipped over all of them, not understanding how none of these oversized hoodies would seemingly fit Taehyung. He'd gotten humongous, broad shoulders and everything.

You picked out a few more, trying to see whether it would be a fit. None worked.

When you picked up the next one, you could already picture him wearing it. It was the hoodie you had taken from Taehyung during the first year you knew each other. You looked at its loose sleeves, stretchy from you tugging Taehyung behind you with it way back then. The green fabric of the hoodie was slightly pale in a certain spot - you had spilled soda all over him in a fit of anger.

During your forensic chemistry class, the teacher didn't recognise their mistakes in the procedure (they used the wrong test for detecting the sample, and blamed it on you), and you were pretty miffed the whole day. Taehyung had bought sodas for the two of you, having planned to go stargazing later on. And you, in a terrible mood, flipped him off in a way that had the soda spilling over him. You cried, Taehyung laughed, but the hoodie was still stained. You took it with you later on to clean it - but the stubborn stain never left. You were agonized, Taehyung amused, but the hoodie- it was still stained. Taehyung had laughed it off, telling you to keep it with you for as long as you wanted- he could buy a dozen more hoodies to last him till then.

When you left to head home that winter break, you had taken the hoodie with you. You had taken it on your date, crying on its sleeves when you were stood up. And when you came back, Taehyung was suddenly a criminal.

You shook your head to remove the memories of that time, holding the hoodie in your hand and gently caressing its sleeves. So many memories were held in these threads that meshed together to form the fabric of your youth. Good or bad? You didn't want to dwell on that.

"Y/N? Could I get the clothes now?" Taehyung called from the washroom. You picked up a extra large pair of cotton shorts and a hoodie, and passed it to him without really thinking- you'd done it before when he got drunk at college too, having him come over at your place, shower, change, and practically behave like a couple- at least, that's what you had thought of it then.

Get it together, Y/N, why are you thinking about that?

"Thanks!" he shouted again, grasping the clothes with his fingers and whisking them away to the confines of the washroom.

You gripped at your hair and pinched your cheeks. You couldn't keep thinking about the old Taehyung. You didn't know if it was truly him anymore.

"Uh, Y/N?" Taehyung stepped out of the washroom, the previously oversized shorts clinging to his thighs for dear life and the hoodie snugly fitting his figure. "I think it's a bit tight, but I'll make do."

Your eyes widened in horror; Taehyung looked like he was moments away from bursting the shorts. "I'll get you new pants, wait a second. These ones don't fit."

You turned back to your cupboard, looking for the loosest bottoms you could find. "I think the hoodie still fits though, right?"

"Yeah." You heard Taehyung right over your shoulder, scaring you.

"Jeez, when did you get this close to me?" You turned to face him, crossing your arms, looking at his hair which still had droplets sticking to its edges.

"When did you get this far from me, Y/N?" His eyes bore into yours, sweetly intense eyes gazing at you like it was the first time he saw you. "What happened?"

You shrugged, not wanting to answer it. You picked up a loose pair of denim jeans that you had found stuffed away at the back of your closet. Pushing it into his hands, you told him to go change.

Apparently, your instructions fell on deaf ears. "What happened, Y/N? Answer me. Please."

You moved your gaze to his clothes, not wanting to focus on the thoughts that rushed back when you thought of him. What had happened? You moved your hands to your sides, resisting the need to hold him and know him all over again. "The hoodie looks good on you. Would you-"

"So do our hands." He held yours, snugly fitting his palm- your calloused fingers against his calloused ones, heat burning in the sleeping embers of your palm. His eyes gazed at the joint fingertips almost reverently. "They fit well."

"Taehyung, now is not the time-" You begin, cut off by his frantic breathing.

"When is the time, Y/N? When will I get to live? When will I get to feel like a human? When will I be innocent?"

His hand caressed your palm, touching your forearm, your elbow, your shoulder, and your cheek -leaving a burning trail behind him everywhere he touched. You shivered. "Do you know how long I have wanted you, Y/N? Years. Seven years, now. I have loved you for years. I have wanted you for years. I did all sorts of things to remember you while in jail- kept asking for you, kept calling for you. I didn't want to forget you, Y/N. Not you. I couldn't forget you, no."

He pressed your palm to his chest, and you could feel a dull thump echo through the clothes, reverberate in your palms. "That fire, Y/N. My passion in the promises I'd made to you. It never went anywhere. I always loved you. I always will. You can't make me leave again, not again. Please, no."

He held your palm up to his cheeks, not regarding the tears that were streaking your cheeks and his. "You feel me, right? It's me. Taehyung. I am the one you trusted. I'm the same. Trust me again. Please."

You tried to hold back the tears that threatened to slide down your cheeks, not wanting to pain Taehyung anymore. He held your forehead to his, pressing on the back of your head to meet his - upclose, you could see the redness that clouded the shine that his eyes would normally have. You couldn't hold back your tears anymore, nearly whimpering when you saw how broken he was- sirens swimming in the whirlpool of his eyes, singing songs of misery. "You know me, right? Do you know me? Do you recognize me? Kim Taehyung, police cadet. Your friend. Your classmate. You know me, right?" He asked, nose nearly brushing yours. "Do you know me?"He cried, eyes washing over the fire that ignited behind his pupils. You didn't see a vandal, or a criminal, or a friend. You saw a broken man.

"Taehyung, oh, Tae," you cried, putting your hands on his shoulders, watching him slink down to the ground as his body trembled and shivered. You wrapped your arms close around his figure, unable to understand his pain but just wanting it to go away.

You sat like that for a while, coaxing the tears and short whimpers out of him as he held onto your fingers, wanting to remember something he once had: you.

"I always asked for you, you know that?" Taehyung shivered as he spoke, even if the chills of the weather outside barely seeped into your home. "I always loved you. I don't know why they kept me there for so long, Y/N. I didn't do anything wrong. I don't know why I'm made to feel like this…" he trailed away, tears gathering at his chin as they endlessly flowed down his cheeks.

You glanced a nervous eye at the clock, wanting to make sure that you get to the station- no matter what happens. The bubbling of water distracted you from the ticking of the clock, and you turned off the stove. Scouring your cabinets for a chamomile tea bag was hard, but you knew you needed it. Taehyung always seemed to calm down with tea - you had used it multiple times before. Times of which you have multiple memories. Times you wish to forget.

Why did I ever love Taehyung? The question kept echoing in your mind as you leaned on top of the kitchen counter top. Things would have been so much simpler if simply looking at him wasn't so hard. His smile, his behaviour, his tears - it was all but a painful reminder of what you could have been if things had gone different. If only.

You poured the hot water into the mug you had settled on the kitchen top, watching the water bloom into a serene shade of yellow as you dipped the tea bag into it repeatedly. You prepared one mug, then another, hearing the soft declarations Taehyung kept repeating while he was seated.

All you had wanted to study was forensic science, and that was simply for one reason: you didn't want to interact with people.

People are complicated, over emotional beings. and you couldn't help but feel helpless every time you had to encounter a suspect. You would constantly be told by your professors to see them as lawbreakers - but all you tried finding was signs of humanity in them. That even the most vicious killers had scope for reform. That's why you stuck to the subjects you wanted - you were good at finding signs of life, not squashing them. You consistently failed those classes, without any doubt. And today, it seemed like all those classes were laughing at you.

"Here." You handed the mug to Taehyung, who muttered thanks. He rubbed his hands once or twice on the pants you told him to change into and took a sip from the warm tea. You resisted the urge to reach out and wipe the tears that lined his face, and try and wipe the scars of the past that had scarred him so badly - but you couldn't. You were a mere spectator in the game of his life. You couldn't possibly do anything other than hurt him more.

"Thank you. For letting me express all of it. I could finally say everything that I wanted to before I was forbidden from speaking about it again." Taehyung tapped against the mug, fingernails resting on ceramic as the sun slowly headed westward. "I'm sorry that I've been such a burden to you, Y/N. I wonder if I can do anything to reduce the pain and confusion I put you through - I doubt I can." He looked at you carefully, though you couldn't tell what he was thinking. "Thank you."

You let his words echo in the room, preoccupied with your thoughts. It hurt you to see him so broken, and you couldn't help but worry about him.

"Taehyung, I-" You opened your mouth to respond, watching Taehyung pay attention to every move you made - only to be interrupted by your phone loudly ringing.

"Sorry, this must be important." You got up to get your phone, watching Taehyung slump in his seat from the edge of your vision.

"It's the chief," you announced, picking up the phone.

He got straight to the point. "Come to the station, soon. Bring Taehyung with you." he told, his voice laced with a rather sharp edge- a tone that you had recognized in the years you had worked under him. Things were- most probably- not good.

You responded with a simple "yes", mind dwelling on the impending result that Taehyung would get. You felt that it would be unlikely that he would be going to jail- at least, you hoped so.

Turning to Taehyung, you tried to hide the fear and shakiness that lined your voice. "Let's go."

Taehyung sighed, playing with the mug as he rose up. "It's time, isn't it?"

"Good morning, Sir." You greeted the chief as he hurried into the small office, giving Taehyung a glance and then facing you.

"Morning." He gruffly responded, turning to your laptop. "We found an eyewitness for the vandalism, so we are getting them for the interrogation as well."

"Another interrogation? We've already done it, sir, and all the information is recorded here. I doubt it will be necessary-"

"Please, Y/N," He calmly said. "Leave the decision about it being necessary to me."

You stepped back, subconsciously edging closer to Taehyung - a move noticed by the chief as well.

"Y/N," he began, "I need to speak to you. In private. Step outside for a few moments, please."

You nodded, briskly walking towards the doors and yanking them open. There was a warm gust of wind that blew across your face, and you turned to face the chief.

"Y/N," the chief began, before pausing for a moment, "Officer Y/N. I'm going to need you to think clearly now."

"Yes." You set your features as tightly as you could, not wanting to seem distracted in any way.

"Do you have any type of bias in this case, perhaps due to your past relation with him?" he looked quizzically at you, as if trying to decipher an enigma scribbled onto your face.

Your blood chilled, for some reason. Were you having any bias? "No, sir."

The chief hummed - you couldn't make head or tail of his reaction. He kicked at a pebble before continuing. "From the recordings I heard the previous night in the office, and the way you let him come with you to freshen up a bit, one particular thing has struck me: you were trying to find reasons for Taehyung to be justified as a victim, weren't you?"

You gulped before responding. "Yes, sir. I believe the culprit committed vandalism as a coping mechanism to get over the hurt caused over the years."

The chief sighed heavily. "Well then," he said, "I suggest we continue with our investigation, and find a way to make sure the culprit in the matter is stable as well. We can't have repeated cases like these - we have a reputation to uphold for the police as well."

You nodded stiffly. "Yes, sir."

The chief sighed again, glancing at the street. "Our witness should be here soon." He turned to you again. "Funnily enough, she volunteered as a witness with CCTV backup to claim that Taehyung had vandalized her shop too. Apparently she heard you arrest him last night - so we have to hear her out."

The chief turned again to the road, eyes narrowing in hopes of spotting the witness soon. "The investigator whom she contacted has said she is a reliable witness, but I'm going to need to verify her statement nonetheless." He turned back, heading into the office.

You stared at the road that the chief was looking at before - the direction from which the supposedly reliable eyewitness would come, before heading back inside.

Taehyung was still slumped in his seat, fingers tracing drawings all over the pants you had given him. The chief was shuffling around behind the desk, pulling two spare chairs ahead - one for Taehyung, you presumed, and one for the eyewitness - whoever that would be.

"Mr. Kim Taehyung," the chief began, "there has been an eyewitness who has offered their testimony - whether it is to defend you, or further establish evidence of you vandalizing public spaces, I'm not yet aware. We shall be interrogating them - and maybe you, as well, now."

Taehyung rose up from the corner he had settled into, and shuffled into the seat the chief had set for him, wordlessly.

The door opened to reveal an older lady, dressed in a purple shaded hanbok, hair delicately pulled back into a tight bun and eyes peering around the whole office in curiosity. She found the chief, walking closer to the desk where he was arranging the records. "I'm here as the eyewitness..?"She said, looking at both you and the chief.

"Ah, yes. I presume you're Ms. Park?" The chief asked, pulling the chair out for her to settle into it. Under the light that shined across her face, you could make out the wrinkles that lined her skin and the greys in her hair - not that that was relevant to what would happen.

"I saw him vandalize the outside of my store a few days ago," she earnestly began, pulling out pictures that she had taken of the design on her window. "I'm a florist, you see. His designs are clearly inspired by that, aren't they?" She pushed the pictures in front of your vision, and you could see what she meant - the designs of orchids, hibiscus and asters stared back at you, intricately painted onto the glass windows of the florist's shop.

She pulled out more pictures. "There's been similar instances all over the neighbourhood- the other florist had a rose, the school received drawings full of children's stories and fairy tales, and had their walls painted with similar stories. In fact, the restaurants around here even said that their menus were drawn onto the streets, right in front of their doorstep."

The chief looked at the pictures carefully, with you peering at them as well, taking in the detail that Taehyung had while he worked while making each of his works- no, vandalising, you corrected yourself. He raised an eyebrow at the eyewitness, who seemed to shrink into her seat. "What does this bring forward as evidence for or against the culprit? We already know what the crime is, and its details. We just have to determine a punishment- either a hefty fine or jail. Do you have anything that can justify him getting exempted from either?"

Ms. Park looked at you and the chief before turning to Taehyung apologetically, placing a hand on his knee - as if consoling him. "I think that at the end of the day, all he was doing was beautifying the neighbourhood, wasn't he? And most of the residents here don't have a problem with it-" the chief looked at her incredulously- "so please, don't punish him or something. A lot of people appreciate his work in our neighborhood, you know?"

"But we have been receiving complaints about him since the past few days," the chief said. "Why the sudden change in opinion?"

Ms. Park fidgeted with the hem of her hanbok for a few moments, shaking her head nervously. "Some of us shopkeepers were really bothered by it at first, yes, but we also had some customers come over to inquire about the artwork. It looked professional to them. So we came to an ultimatum : we will let this young man paint and draw for us, on our walls, as much as he wants - as long as it's pretty," she emphasized, one hand patting her chest, "we'll pay him to do it."

You held back a sob as you saw Taehyung's eyes glimmer - a ray of hope shining in them.His knee bounced up and down- a habit you knew was something he had had since years - and he smiled softly when Ms. Park squeezed his hand. You felt like things were finally going to go well. The chief exhaled roughly before rubbing his forehead, glancing at Ms. Park, who smiled at him in the hope that he would understand her reasoning.

"The law, honestly, doesn't care about intentions- I don't think I really understand why I should even let him go. Vandalism is a punishable offence, and the perpetrator has been aware of its consequences. Why the sudden feeling to save him?" The chief questioned, eyes steely and tough.

Ms. Park hesitated for a few moments. "I believe he deserves a second chance." She pulled her chair ahead, the metal ends scraping against the tiles, and pleaded once again. "He was arrested for years for something he hadn't even done - and now, might face a few more months in the same place for simply being artistic. I don't think it deserves punishment."

"That's for the law to decide, not you, madam." The chief sternly said. "I suggest you leave such decisions to us."

The room remained tense and quiet for the next few moments, and your eyes were trained on Taehyung. You noticed the quiver in his hands, the way he shrunk into his chair - as if to hide away from whatever the upcoming decision would be.

Ms. Park was the first to interrupt the loud silence. "Oh, come on. Let me just pay for the boy's bail."

The clock chose that moment to loudly announce the next hour: was it eleven? Twelve? You weren't paying attention. You only saw the way Taehyung rose up from his seat - in happiness, you thought - with fists sticking to his sides. "No. I won't accept it."

You felt the chief look with just as much disbelief as you did. Why was he so hellbent on being a perpetrator when he could be free?

Ms. Park laughed. "No. I'm not listening to that whole self righteous thing that you probably have," she swatted the air with her hand, as if to push away any explanations Taehyung could give.

"Look, ma'am. I have the money to get a bail, or even pay the fine. I don't want you to pay for me and then hold it above my head like a massive favour you have done for me." Fire blazed in his eyes as he spoke up, rather indignantly. "I can take care of myself."

"To hell with that attitude," Ms. Park said. "I decided to help you because I didn't want you to suffer once again because of misunderstandings." She pulled Taehyung back to sit on his chair, clasping his hand between her wrinkled ones. "You had to go through so much pain at such a young age - no one deserves that. I was a mere bystander at the time you were arrested, and I regretted it then. I still regret it now."

She sighed before caressing the back of his hand lovingly, thumb gently pressing on the skin- as if to feel the pain those hands had to go through, and you thought you saw a hint of a tear on his cheeks. "So don't question me for 'saving' you, or something - what you did was perfectly fine for me. I love the way my street looks now, and so do the neighbours. All that really remained was the artist's identity- and now that I know it's you, I don't feel any sort of guilt in justifying what you did."

You were right. Taehyung was crying. It wasn't silent tears that rained gently down his cheeks, it was a whole thunderstorm. You saw the chief turn away, from the corner of your vision, but you couldn't bring yourself to do the same. He was biting on his bottom lip to hold back any of the sobs or whimpers that came, head lowering to hide the tears.

Ms. Park simply caressed his hand, over and over, till he calmed down enough to wipe his tears with his free hand. And when he raised his head up, you saw him like a new person. The wound up Taehyung you had met again a few hours ago was slowly vanishing - in his stead, there was a free Taehyung who smiled like the world's burden had been lifted off his shoulders. "Thank you," he murmured.

The chief sighed again. "I still don't understand how it came to this."

"Neither do I," Ms. Park laughed. "But it is what it is. We'll pay the fine."

"I'll do it," Taehyung started, only to be shushed by the elder lady. "I want to do it. Let me do it." She turned again to the chief, the bubbly happiness giving way to seriousness. "You can make sure he pays the fine, right? Withdraw the complaints for us too."

The chief looked at you and nodded, and you got to work - carefully opening the laptop again and making sure that you transferred the report from 'investigation' to 'resolved', and that the complaint was withdrawn.

The chief, meanwhile, made physical records of it, and informed Taehyung of the fine - which, despite his insistence, Ms. Park paid off, whipping out a cheque she had kept ready, somehow. You added the details to his resolved record as the chief dictated them to you, keeping them for future references - which you hoped would only be needed to prove his innocence in any situation.

Nearly twenty minutes of details, questioning, and a written assurance from Taehyung that he would be liable to arrest if he continued illegal activities, it was done. Taehyung was free.

The chief read over the details once again, thoroughly, eyes getting heavier and softer with every document he checked. Once it was all done, filed, and you had stacked the records back in the drawers they were placed in, the chief sagged into the chair, hands clutching the steel arms for support.

"Thank God," he whispered, eyes closed. "You're fine now." He got up shakily, hands wiping at his eyes to erase any traces of the tears that had possibly leaked out. He walked around the table, reaching for Taehyung - as if beyond the lines of that desk, his duties as an officer stopped and those as a teacher resumed. "Don't you dare do that again, Taehyung. Never again." He held his student by the shoulder tightly, gripping him and shaking him a little - like a parent would scold a kid. "Live a good life, please."

Taehyung nodded frantically, eyes still wide in disbelief as he ignored the grubby tear streaks on his face. "I will, sir." He had his hands placed politely in front of him, trembling fingers clutching onto the rough denim fabric of the old, loose jeans you had made him wear.

"Live well," the chief repeated again, thumping Taehyung's shoulder once and then turning around to collect the documents he would need to take with him. He bowed to Ms. Park, who acknowledged him before something at a corner of the small office caught her eye, and turned sharply to you. "Officer Y/N," he began, and you tensed a little bit more. "There was an opening last night in the forensic science department that I got notice of," he said, a smile tugging on the edges of his lips when he saw how your demeanor brightened. "Reach the head office tomorrow in the morning at ten, and I'll give you the details. All the best."

You hastily held back the sudden smile that threatened to split on your face, smartly saluting your senior before he turned around to leave the office. As he opened the door, you felt a burst of warmth all over your body - the heat of the sunshine rushing into the room.

Ms. Park walked from her corner to Taehyung, taking his palm between hers and squeezing. "I'm happy that you're free now, Taehyung." She looked carefully at his face - sternness making way for soft concern, and said, "Live wisely. If you need money, or a job to get you started, come to my shop - it's the one you painted with orchids. You remember it, right?"

Taehyung responded with a rather choked 'yes', nodding his head frantically. He placed his other, trembling hand upon the lady's hands, and solemnly thanked her.

"That's not needed, I told you." She smiled, before patting his cheek. "You deserve to let yourself live, so use this chance well. Work hard." She turned her head to look through the window behind her, groaning a bit at the sight of the brightly burning sun. "I better leave now - it seems that I'll end up getting a sunburn the nearer to twelve it is." She turned back to Taehyung, smiling softly, and patting his cheek. "Turn up at the shop tomorrow morning, we'll figure something out."

"Oh, and officer?" she faced you, pointing in the corner where she was standing a few moments before. "I think my grandson had left his plushie over here a few days ago - it's this one, right?" You followed where her hand was pointing, finding a pumpkin plushie left casually on top of a table. "Sungwoo told me he had lost it some time ago, so I just thought it was this one," she laughed awkwardly.

"I think it is his, he had come yesterday to file a missing complaint for it too," you said, causing Ms. Park to laugh. "He really loves it, doesn't he?"

"He's not slept well since it went missing. Anyways, I better take it with me, if that's all."

"Just a moment, ma'am," you stopped her hastily. "He'd left a note for the plushie too - I believe Peter?"

The elderly woman laughed at her grandson's antics, taking the note you offered her and grinning as she read it. "Yes, yes, Peter. I'll take the note with me. Thank you so much for everything, officer."

Thank you, you wish to say - unable to understand how she volunteered to be an eyewitness and defend the one person you cared so much for. Maybe words wouldn't be enough for you to convey how grateful you were to her, so you simply bowed to the woman.

She took Taehyung's hand again, gently pressing on the back of his hand. "Your mother used to help me out in the shop, you know." Taehyung nodded, and she smiled. "Your hands are like hers. Delicate, yet strong. You can craft beauty with this hand, Taehyung." She squeezed his hand, smiling. "Don't just let that beauty slip away from you."

She patted his hand again, before turning to you and smiling, and heading out. The sunlight bounced off her gray hair to shine on Taehyung as you looked at him - even with a tired expression, he looked more alive than you had seen him in the last few hours.

"I'm free," he said, saying it aloud and letting himself feel the sensation for a few moments.

He turned to you, watching the way your eyes told him that you understood everything you wanted to tell him - even the things he himself didn't understand. "I'm free, Y/N," he repeated, carefully examining his wrists that were once bound with handcuffs - no. There were no restraints there.

His eyes panned around the room. There was no investigator who questioned him about why he simply couldn't admit his crime. No one who made fun of him for seeking comfort in his art - even if it was illegal. "I'm really free," he murmured again.

Taehyung leaped towards you, pulling you close and holding you tight, as if unable to believe that you were there with him: and that he was here with you for as long as he wanted to be. You let your arms circle around his neck, one curling through the hair at his nape and pulling him further into your embrace, and the other spread out over his back - trying to remind yourself that yes, he was here, with you.

"Thank you," you felt him murmur into your shoulder.

"For what?"

"Just being here. With me." He sighed, further tightening the hands that rested around your waist. "After so many unfamiliar faces over the years, seeing yours feels like a reward of sorts for behaving well."

You laughed at him, slapping his back light heartedly. "Don't talk like you did anything wrong all those years ago. It's not good." You let your hands pane across the expanse of his skin, feeling him cling on to you as you tried to calm him down. "I'm happy for you, Tae."

He held you like that, for a few more moments - like you were slowly pulling him back into what could be his new normal life. Waking up every day in a room that doesn't have steel bars as a door. Not having to crash at the old house that had haunted him for years. Not having to hide his face in the fear that someone would taunt him for his past. Actually doing something that made him feel happy, confident, and alive.

"I'm happy too," he murmured into your shoulder. You hummed as he looked beyond your frame to see the streets outside the window - seeing how they were illuminated in daylight. How animatedly people were talking about what their plans for the day were. A kid kept hopping on a chalk drawing of hopscotch he had drawn on the footpath, clutching onto a plushie that oddly seemed like a pumpkin. Someone walked around their stall, setting things up for the day.

You pulled him away from your grip to look at him again - not wanting to forget any part of him in any way. "I still care for you as much as I did all those years ago, you know." You put your hands on his biceps, just as you used to do when you had to knock sense into your friend. "You better not hide anything from me now."

"I have no intentions of," he grinned. "Thank you very much."

You giggled, a feeling you hadn't felt in years fluttering around your stomach like butterflies.

"About us," Taehyung began, holding your hands in his, "You know that I love you, right?" You felt yourself tense up, and probably Taehyung did too, as he squeezed your hands. "I'm not in any hurry. I want to take some time to understand myself and what I want to do before I think of anything with you. But when I'm settled, and I'm someone I can be proud of, I want to come back to you. Be with you forever." He let go of your hands to hold your cheeks, smiling as he saw your big eyes peer at him. "You'll let me, right?"

Your eyes softened. "Of course, Taehyung."

"Tae." He corrected you, coming closer to press a kiss on your forehead.

You smiled when he moved back, glancing down at all of him and laughing. "For beginners, how about we get you clothes to change into?"

He looked down at his clothes, laughing with you. "Let's go, then?"

You nodded at him, pulling him out of the office, and locking it securely before turning to a widely grinning Taehyung. "I have a feeling I'm going to love the daytime. It's just so positive, and nice, don't you think? Really warm all over."

"You're just saying that because you lived like a night owl," you laughed at him, watching his eyes sparkle in the sunshine.

"Yeah, that wasn't the best way to live, was it?" He clicked his tongue and frowned. "Guess I better start living well now. To new beginnings, then, Officer!!" He grinned and poked your forehead.

You watched Taehyung skip over the pebbles that were lined outside the office, walking freely on the streets, feeling the dread that you had let build up in your heart for so long slowly drain out of you. "Wait for me!" You screamed behind him, running to catch up to him. To new beginnings, you thought.

a/n: hopefully, this piece of writing was worth your time 😊 thank you so much for reading graffiti and chalk!! I'd love to hear any feedback you have. Feel free to send it in as a comment, reblog, or as an ask! love, hazel 💞

taglist: @taejinnies (the torture is over bahaha), @xiaokoo, @thedarkwinterrose, @shatzkrinslinzki

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holdingforgeneralhugs · 3 years ago

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Bitter Pill to Swallow

Chapter 5 (Ch.4, Ch.3, Ch.2, Ch.1)

Thank you as always to @tvserie-s-world for the lovely screencaps 💕

It had been five days since they'd set sail for England, and safe to say tensions were starting to fray. Valerie was lucky to be bunking with Harry, but even they'd had a few disagreements.

"If you don't quit your snoring I'm gonna strap you to the bow to scare off the sharks," he'd sworn one early morning, tying his shirt buttons roughly.

"My snoring?" Valerie replied incredulously, "I'm surprised you can hear me snoring over the droning of your own."

She was playing a game of fish with George when the fight of the day broke out. She'd been laughing at his master plan to snag an English dame when they'd overheard Bill Guarnere talking shit. Valerie looked up in alarm when she noticed Lieb jumping down from his bunk and getting up in Bill's face. She sighed and jumped down herself, intending to step in between them and prevent any fists from flying.

"Hey, hey," she shouted, pulling Lieb back behind her "break it up you two, and watch your damm mouth Gonnorhea. Quit talking shit about Jews, you know where we're going and who we're fighting so why don't you show some goddamn respect. " She put a hand on Lieb's shoulder to steer him back towards his bunk. "Don't listen to him Lieb, he's just being an idiot."

As they moved away they heard Bill grumbling something about 'goddamn woman must be on the rag," and Valerie saw red. She dropped her hand from Lieb's shoulder and marched back towards Bill.

"You wanna say that again to my face Guarnere?" snapped Valerie, "who do you think you are saying things like that about a ranking officer?"

Don was desperately trying to pull Bill away, warning him to cut it out before he gets himself in more trouble. A hush settled in the immediate area surrounding them, everyone afraid to intervene but too nosy to look away.

"I said what I said," Bill snarled, pulling his arm out of Don's and clenching his jaw. Valerie narrowed her eyes at him and glared coldly.

"I'm gonna give you one more chance to take that back Guarnere," Valerie warned, crossing her arms. She felt Lieb step up beside her protectively, and even though she didn't need it she was eternally grateful for him in that moment. He had her back, and he wanted her to know it.

"I ain't taking nothing back, I said what I said," he insisted, ignoring Don's contined pleas for him to back down.

Valerie narrowed her eyes at Bill, her fingers clenching against her crossed arms and her face reddening. Beside her, Lieb was clenching his fists so hard she was sure they'd split open at the knuckles.

"You really don't know when to shut your damn mouth do you?" Snapped Lieb, stepping forward and raising his fist for another go at Bill. But Valerie threw her arm across his chest and stopped him, shaking her head and silently trying to tell him that she could deal with this herself. He huffed but stepped back beside her, continuing to glare harshly at Bill.

"Well you know what gonorrhea," Valerie hissed coldly, stepping up to him "next time why don't you say that to my fists huh? Because you are sorely mistaken if you don't think I could punch you so hard you'd be seeing Lady Liberty dancing the jive."

Bill was about to respond when they were interrupted by a stern voice.

"What's going on here?" Asked Lieutenant Winters, who'd appeared behind Valerie without her noticing. She took a few deep breaths before turning on her toes to face him.

"Nothin' for you to worry about Lieutenant Winters," she replied. He glanced between her and Bill sceptically, his eyebrows furrowing as he assessed the situation.

"Well," he said evenly, "whatever fight was going on here that you don't want me to know about, break it up. We've got a lot of training and work to do once we get to England so use these next five days wisely and take all the rest you can get."

The men who'd gathered on the floor dispersed hastily with a few 'yes sir's'. With one final lingering glare, Bill and Valerie turned away from each other and went their separate ways. She was about to follow Lieb up to his bunk when a tap on her shoulder stopped her.

"Could I talk to you up on deck Lieutenant?" He asked tightly. Val stared him down for a moment before nodding her agreement and following him up the steps and onto the breezy deck.

"So, what was it you wanted to talk about?" She asked after a few beats of awkward silence. His shoulders tensed and he looked out over the ocean for a few seconds before speaking.

"Lieutenant Landry, I don't want you to think I'm criticising you but..."

Look," she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest, "whatever it is you gotta say to me jus' get on with it."

He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face roughly. "I really don't want to fight fight you so please, don't get all offended about this," he paused in his speech and took a deep breath before continuing, "you're a ranking officer Landry, you cant just go around threatening your NCO's, or any of the men for that matter. It's completely out of line."

"Out of line?," she hissed, narrowing her eyes, her temper immediately flaring at his accusing tone, "Guarnere was out of line makin' comments about Jews and then disrespectin' me. So I think I had every right to say what I said, an' I'd say it again too. You weren't even there, you have no idea what happened before you turned up."

"Then tell me," he sighed, "tell me what happened and I'll go down there and deal with Bill right this minute."

"I just told you, he was making comments about Jews and then he disrespected me," she explained tersely, "And I don't need you to go down there and deal with it. I was dealin' with it jus' fine until you showed up." She couldn't believe he was standing there reprimanding her, nor that he wanted to play the white knight and go deal with the situation for her. She had been handling the situation and herself just fine before he showed up.

"I understand that Guarnere is difficult, and I have no doubt he was running his mouth and deserved a reprimand," Winters groaned, "but you still shouldn't have spoken to him like that, especially in front of the rest of the men. You should have officially reprimanded him in a calm way like a ranking officer should."

He was questioning her capabilities as an officer. He honestly believed that she couldn't behave like an officer should. They'd never been friends, hell, they couldn't even have a conversation, but she'd always grudgingly respected that he was a good officer. She'd never once doubted his capabilities as a leader.

In a deep buried part of her, though she'd never admit it, his words stung. His doubts of her capabilites hurt. She had a level of respect for him that obviously he didn't have for her. She'd thought that despite all the tension between them, she could at least count on the fact that he'd respect her position as a Lieutenant. Clearly she'd been wrong.

"Oh, so you doubt my capabilities as an officer is that it?" She snapped defensively, "and for your information, you missed the part where I very calmly told him to take back what he said. You're making a whole lot of assumptions based on the tiny part of the conversation you saw, but I can't say I'm surprised. You've obviously never respected my place in Easy and now the truth of your thoughts has finally come out."

Dick shook his head and ran his tongue over his teeth, his jaw tensing slightly. "That's not what I meant and you know it, stop putting words in my mouth. You're quite possibly the most impossible person I've ever met." He placed his hands on his hips and looked out over the sea once more. "I never said I didn't respect your position as a Lieutenant, I just meant you should have reprimanded Guarnere more calmly."

His patronising was just making her more mad. He really had the nerve to stand there and act like he was better than her when he couldn't possibly understand the situation. "You implied I didn't behave like a proper officer, so please do tell me what you actually meant when you said that because I'd just love to know."

"I didn't mean it like that, so I'm sorry if that's how it came across to you," he huffed, trying to keep his emotions in check, "Just don't talk to your subordinates like that anymore, alright? We've got more than enough to worry about without fights between the officers and the enlisted." He turned to leave without waiting for her to respond any further.

She watched him walk away from her, her simmering temper roiling. Why that sanctimonious prat. She'd just love to see what he would have done if he were in her shoes.

"You know what Winters," she shouted at his retreating back, unable to stop herself from getting in the last word, "I'd like to see you spend a day in my shoes and keep your goddamn cool." Now that she'd started she couldn't stop, all of her frustrated feelings pouring out of her now she'd opened the floodgates a crack.

"I'd like to see you stand there while Guarnere mocks you and says you're just an angry woman on the rag and not get mad. So don't you stand there and patronise me about propriety. Because you know what, if you could actually manage to keep your cool in that situation I'd reckon you were a goddamn saint."

She stormed past his frozen form and marched out the door without a backwards glance, slamming it harshly behind her. Now then, let him stew on that for awhile. She pointedly ignored the twinge of hurt she felt at his words, furiously tampering it down and smothering it with her anger as she marched back to her cabin.

Taglist: @tvserie-s-world @geniedocroe @generousdreamlanddestiny @sunsetmando @cagzzz107 @howunexpectedlyso @alejodi0nysus @sunflowerchuck @now-im-a-belieber

If you'd like to be added to my taglist then just let me know 💕

#band of brothers #bob #dick winters #dick winters x oc #dick winters x valerie landry #valerie landry #bitterpilltoswallow #band of brothers fandom #band of brothers fanfic #hbo band of brothers #hbo war #band of brothers imagine #holdingforgeneralhugs

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killian-spey · 4 years ago

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Death Would be Kinder [ch.1]

[Drusilla/Spike/Calendar!Reader]

Words: 2626

Fic Concept: Jenny Calendar’s sister spends some “quality time” with the Season 2 Vampire Squad. [Ch.1 takes place in BtVS S2 Ep14]

TW/CW: Kidnapping, Violence, Nightmares.

AN: Check out the [Prologue] first if you haven’t already! :D

Tags: @prose-for-hire , (Comment below or send an ask to be added!)

You had run through the sewers for hours before you pulled yourself out of a manhole halfway across town. Escaping from the factory had worn you out completely, and you made your way home, hoping that Angel and Buffy had done the same.

When you got home, Jenny was asleep on the couch. It looked as though she'd been waiting up all night for you. You tucked a blanket over her and took her empty tea mug to the kitchen before going upstairs, where you flopped into bed and immediately found sleep.

You opened your eyes in the dark and two stormy grey eyes were staring into yours. You sat up confused as your eyes adjusted to the dark. A moment passed, then a new pair blinked into existence; they were blue, cold and unmoving. Their faces grew recognizable and a pit of anxiety grew in your stomach. Spike was leaning against your window sill. Drusilla was laying on your bed, reaching for you with one hand. You stumbled backwards with a yelp, falling onto your floor. Yellow eyes flashed once in your peripheral and then everyone was gone, just as quickly as they'd all appeared.

As you stood up, you found yourself in the factory. It was brighter here, but cold and empty. You spun, looking for an exit. Flashes of images knocked you off balance like punches. A red dress, flowing ribbon, blonde hair, black hair, crooked smiles, pointed teeth. Bells rang in your head, you saw a wheelchair, then painted red nails, then a ridged face. Your head was spinning. You were spinning. Faster and faster until you felt nauseous.

It stopped suddenly. A single thought pierced your adrenaline-rushing head. Soon-

You opened your eyes with a gasp, staring at the ceiling of your bedroom. It was morning and your alarm was going off. You stayed there a few minutes, snoozing the alarm so you could let your heart catch up with reality -or rather slow down to reality- before you got ready for the day and hopped in the car with your sister. Seems Buffy wasn’t the only one having bad dreams about vampires that should've been dead. Lucky you...

As it turns out, Buffy and Angel didn’t check in after last night’s screw up at the factory; thankfully Buffy came into school a couple minutes later to confirm she was still alive. The same couldn’t be said for Angel though, so tensions were high among the Scoobies while researching the Judge.

You were asked to use your artistic skills to draw the Judge to the best of your memory while the others looked into tomes with written references. The world tended to pass you by when you were drawing, so you almost didn’t notice when your sister left the library. She had been summoned by your Uncle, but for what you didn’t know. Not long after, the lights went out.

You stalked out of the library, seeing Xander, Willow, and Angel in the lobby of the school just down the hall. Willow was making her way towards Angel when-

“Willow, get away from him.” Jenny came from the left, holding up a cross as she stepped towards Angel. Oh. Oh no. You pulled a stake from your belt and called out to Willow as calmly as you could muster.

“Willow, walk back towards me.”

“What are you two talking about? It’s just A-”

Angel lunged forward and grabbed Willow by the neck. Familiar yellow eyes peered out of the darkness of the hallway as Willow yelped, struggling against the choke hold.

“You’re not Angel anymore, are you?” Jenny walked closer to Angel.

“Wrong. I am Angel, at last.” He pulled Willow back away from Jenny, “I’ve got a message for Buffy.”

“Why don’t you give it to me yourself?”

The two of them exchanged words and fought, allowing Willow the opportunity to escape Angel’s clutches and join your huddled group on the outskirts of the fight. Buffy got shoved into the water fountain, dumbfounded as Angel walked out the door laughing. The fight was over as quickly as it started, and a blanket of stunned silence covered the whole group. After what felt like an eternity of numb, unmoving shock, you and Jenny gave each other a knowing look. You’d failed. Angel was gone.

You don’t remember how long you’d been sitting in the library, vaguely listening to the group tell Giles about the confrontation with Angelus. Jenny was trying to keep Giles from panicking, and you sat numbly with your guilt. You only looked up when Buffy fled the room, Giles calling after her. You wanted so badly to apologize, but if Buffy ever found out what you’d known, she might kill you herself. You excused yourself from the library, mumbling to Jenny that you’d be in the studio back home.

-----

The garage door creaked as you lifted it. Jenny had given you one of the car bays to use as an art studio while you lived in Sunnydale. Your studio was one of the only places you knew where you could truly be alone with yourself. Jenny had never judged you or your art. Ever since your parents died, she’d stepped up and been supportive of you. You brushed your hand along the top of your canvas stash, picking a large, almost square canvas and setting it on your easel.

Painting had been a way for you to cope with strong emotions for as long as you could remember, but with the events of today you felt lost. You sat on your stool in front of that blank white canvas for what must have been hours. You eventually decided that nothing could convey what you were feeling in the moment, so you decided to paint something the opposite.

You used cream-white, gold and rust to block out a background; it was light, idyllic, and serene. It would be a white-stone conservatory, full of hanging candles and lanterns with a mezzanine balcony covered in ivy. Over that you dropped bright, vibrant tones of yellows and reds and greens. You blocked them into the spaces you would put dancers in flowing gowns and painted blues where you would place their partners. It would be full of life. You stood back a moment, studying. The scene was missing something; joy and innocence, maybe. You place a few, short splotches of pinks and light yellows for younger girls. They were running in a small stampede, weaving through the forest of colorful silks on the dance floor- chasing after fairies or some magic that existed only in their imaginations. There it was. You had vague shapes and a vision, and you were intent on chasing it.

You painted all through the night, and well into the morning. Jenny had left for the school hours ago, but hadn’t said anything. The painting was finally done. You sat in your stool and wiped your hands on your jeans. It was done, you had worked for hours, you had cried for Angel, you had smiled for the imaginary children, and for a moment you were satisfied... Then you noticed it.

In the center of your painting was a lone dancer. She wore a red gown with dark lace over the bodice and had equally dark hair. Your painting was somewhat post-impressionist, preferring interesting shapes over pinpoint detail, but it was unmistakable. In a ballroom of strangers, you’d painted her. Drusilla. You didn’t know what to think about that.

You stared at Drusilla in the painting, stuck in an introspective daze until a creaking sound pulled you back to reality. Your uncle had opened the garage door and stepped into the studio bay with two cups of coffee. You pulled up a stool for him and he handed you one, sitting beside you in front of the painting.

“Janna called,” he began cautiously. “She is on her way home with your friend, Buffy. I don’t know how, but she knows.”

“She’s going to hate me for this,” You scanned the sweeping lines of a yellow skirt somewhere else on your painting, trying not to let the tears prickle at the corners of your eyes.

The door to the garage opened behind you both and you looked down into your mug, anxiously tapping your nail against the ceramic. You couldn’t bear to look Buffy in the eyes, your guilt returning in full force.

Your uncle lit a pipe and stood up as he spoke,

“She told me you would be coming. I suppose you want answers,”

“Not really.” The voice wasn’t Buffy’s.

You snapped your head towards the door to find Angelus leaning against the door frame, blocking your exit. You scrambled, picking up a fistful of wooden paint brushes off your work table in a desperate search for weapons. You spun back towards Angelus just in time to watch him snap your uncle’s neck. An arm smacked against your leg as he dropped onto the concrete floor- a sensation you would no doubt remember the rest of your life. You snapped a large paintbrush in half to give it a pointier edge, but Angelus grabbed your wrist before you could even make a move on him. This was the sickening moment you realized just exactly how tall Angelus was. Exactly how far above he loomed over you.

“Ah, ah.” He tutted at you with a smirk. “Wouldn’t want to go angering the guy who holds your life in his hands, now would you?” He twisted your wrist until you let go of the brush, then wrapped his other hand around your throat and pushed you onto the worktable.

“You know, it really is embarrassing that you’re so darn fragile!”

He was laughing, but he was right. In comparison you were a mouse fighting a lion, you had no chance against him. You clawed fruitlessly at his hand, but he just squeezed harder. Your vision was already fuzzing out, and it was getting difficult to even see Angelus’ face clearly as he taunted you.

“Oh, stop squirming, you’ll be unconscious in a minute, kid. Lucky for you, I need some bait. So you get to live for a while, isn’t that exciting?!” His voice was giving you something tangible to focus on, but it was no use. Another moment and you were unconscious.

-----

Your head pounded like a drum when you woke up. You opened your eyes, but it took a while for them to adjust to the dim light. You tried to rub your eyes, but your hands were tied down to the armrests of the chair you were sat in. Your eyes darted around for any sign of Angelus, but found none. Everything was empty. Silent. Against your better judgement, you called out into the empty factory.

“Hello?”

You waited. No one responded, but you felt you were being watched.

You didn’t know how much time had passed before you heard a small, soft melody coming from behind you. Humming. Your heartbeat kicked up a notch as you scanned the room.

“I can hear you going pitter-patter from here,” Drusilla had spoken from a place you couldn’t see. You heard each of her footsteps click closer and closer behind you until you could feel her standing just inches away. You let out a shaky breath and she shushed you quietly.

She ran her hands through your hair, dragging long red fingernails across your scalp. She began detangling your hair with her fingers, idly humming once again. You let your head tip back as she picked lightly at a particularly bad snag, dismantling it and continuing her exploration of your hair. By now you’d noticed you were crying, silently terrified and unnerved by the ministrations of the vampire behind you. She yanked a new snag in your hair and you couldn’t help the small yelp that escaped you.

“Is the doll hurting?” She pulled her hands away when she realized you weren’t going to answer her. She walked agonizingly slowly around your chair, stopping directly in front of you. “It’s rude to ignore people.” You stared at the floor, avoiding her gaze. You did notice, however horrified, that she was wearing a new, yet familiar, red dress with black lace.

You could feel her staring down at you, almost willing you to look at her. When you didn’t, she dropped to her knees to meet your eye line, resting her cheek on your knee. You studied her face as she ghosted her hand up and down your left thigh, occasionally picking at the smatterings of paint that were still all over your jeans.

“You’re an artist. I like artists,” She picked up her head and you chuckled nervously as she looked at you. In a morbid way, you were glad she liked you, whatever that meant. It might mean I live a little longer.

You looked up at the ceiling uncomfortably, then scanned the room for an escape, for something, anything you could do. She dragged her finger from your thigh up to your neck as she looked up at you. For a moment, you were scared she’d slice your throat, but she wrapped her hand around your jaw and pulled your face down gently to look at her.

“You’ll be my little pet Artist. We’ll have lots of fun together,” She stared into your eyes with a dangerous smile. She rubbed her thumb against your jawline -her hand still holding your face as she stood up- until she burst into a fit of giggles. She dropped your face and pulled her hands together, close to her chest, as she walked backwards a few paces.

As if she’d sensed him coming, Spike rolled into the room and stopped his chair just next to you. Drusilla gracefully perched herself on Spike’s lap and after a few minutes of flirting, Angelus came down the spiral staircase with the Judge, who voiced that he was ready to leave.

“About time.” Spike gave Drusilla a kiss and told her to have fun.

“Too bad you can’t come with, huh?” Angelus was taunting Spike and -despite your fear- you were studying the interactions for a better understanding of the relationships at play. Spike was staying behind under the pretense of watching you, but it was a thinly veiled jab at his current handicap. You watched silently as Angelus practically stole Drusilla off Spike’s lap before they left the factory. Spike stared at the doorway they'd left from for a while before he glanced back at you, staring at him. You dropped your eyes immediately, but it was too late.

“What are you lookin’ at?” He wheeled himself to the other side of the table.

“I won’t be in this chair forever. I’ll get back at him.”

“Of course you will.”

He squinted at you, probably just as surprised as you that’d you’d actually spoken back at him. He turned his chair and got up close to you again, murder glinting behind his eyes.

“Are you being funny? ‘Cause I could kill you in half a second, you know.”

“No, no jokes,” You shook your head at him, weakly lifting your hands within your restraints in surrender. The last thing you wanted was for him to prove just how tough he still is.

“Good, cause I would,” he pointed his finger at you as he continued on, “...kill you, I mean.”

“Right.” You squinted, processing.

“You’d do well to remember that.”

You pressed your lips together and nodded awkwardly. He stared at you about 7 seconds longer than he needed to before huffing and rolling off to another room. As soon as you were alone, you sighed in relief and stared up at the ceiling; only one thought in your mind.

Oh. My. God.

#spike #btvs #tv: btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #drusilla #drusilla x reader #drusilla x Spike #Spike x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #multichapter #chapter 1 #angel #angelus #ats #jenny calendar

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farfromsugafanfic · 4 years ago

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Sutures - Chapter Eight: Bypass

Genre: Soulmates AU, Idiots to Lovers, slight Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Yoongi/Named Reader

Warnings (chapter specific): angst, invasions of privacy and personal space

Synopsis: “A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.” –Jean de la Fontaine

There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

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You awoke with a pounding headache. Looking down at your phone, you noticed the reason why: around 10 text messages from Namjoon.

Most of them were just general greetings or texts to wake you up, but one of them piqued your interest.

Namjoon (6:50 am): I would come wake you up, but I think Yoongi is going through something related to the whole soulmate thing. I don't want it to hurt if I touch you.

Did it hurt for other people to touch Yoongi? Even in innocent ways? You felt guilt run down your spine, despite knowing it wasn't your fault. It made you wonder if it was related to the fact that you felt safest when you were in his arms, no one else could compare.

You sent him a quick text to let him know you were awake, before rubbing your temples and rubbing your eyes. You pulled your hair into a ponytail and changed into a simple pair of jeans and a plain white T-shirt. Normally, on a flight, you wore sweats or leggings, but because you were bound to run into paparazzi, you wanted to look at least presentable.

You already felt your stomach turning. You hadn't been on a plane for two years--since you last visited your family in the US--and you remembered the way your heart beat out of your chest at take off and you were convinced you would never touch the ground.

When you finally emerged from your room, you found the members waiting in the living room. All but one set of eyes darted to you when you walked into the room, Yoongi appeared immersed in his phone.

"Hey Sumi," Jimin said. "I saved you a banana."

"Oh, that's sweet, Jimin," you said. "But, I'm not really hungry."

Yoongi's eyes were on you now. You felt as his eyes took in your face: still red eyes, bare skin, and the baby hairs that curled around your ears. You forced yourself not to look in his direction, despite everything telling you to meet his eyes. Even your neck ached as you kept yourself from turning it.

"Are you sure?" Jimin asked.

"Yeah, honestly, don't worry about it."

---

"All right, the members will all go through the main entrance," their manager explained. "Fans and reporters are already waiting, so as soon as BTS is out. We will drive around and--Sumi--you will go through the side entrance. Hopefully, this will prevent too much issue and we and we can all get on the plane without too much hassle."

Everyone nodded, but you still felt doubt in the pit of your stomach. You watched as the van approached the main airport entrance. The screams were louder than the radio and nearly deafening as the van came to a stop.

Despite the tinted windows, you still ducked down behind the seat and waited as the members climbed out. Screams and camera flashes were all you could hear and you were thankful that you weren't the one facing the crowd. Yet, your heart still panged as you thought about the members essentially distracting everyone so you could get through without being swamped.

"We have a bodyguard for you," Se-jin, the band's manager said. "If anything happens, he'll make sure you get through the crowd and onto the plane. Everyone is already pre-checked, so you should be able to pretty much walk on the plane."

You nodded, clasping your passport and ticket tightly in your hand. The van stopped at the side entrance and you climbed out. No one was outside of it, except for airport security, so you rushed to grab your suitcase and head inside the airport.

"Good luck," Se-jin said, giving you a sympathetic look as you approached the entrance.

You walked through the door and they came out of nowhere. Paparazzi mostly, their cameras blinding you as you attempted to move forward.

"Sumi! Is it true you cheated on Park Minki?"

"Do you really love Yoongi?"

"Sumi! Look here!"

"Sumi, talk to us!"

The whirlwind of flashes and yells were too much for your headache and you closed your eyes for just a moment. When you opened them, you felt yourself colliding with another figure, your shoulder slamming into their bicep, which resulted in hot coffee on your white T-shirt.

"I'm so sorry, Sumi," the figure said.

You turned to look at them, only to have a camera snapped in your face. Blinded, you turned around and stumbled towards where you remembered the security clearance to be. You felt someone grab your arm lightly and looked up to see the bodyguard they'd assigned you leading you through the mess.

---

"What happened?" Namjoon asked as the bodyguard ushered you through the first class curtain and into your seat.

"Paparazzi spilled coffee on her so he could get a shot," the bodyguard said, standing at the doorway of first class and watching as you sat down in the window seat next to Taehyung.

"Sumi, are--?"

Taehyung was interrupted by the intercom and the captain telling everyone to buckle in and stay in the seats as the plane prepared to take off.

Your heart was already beating so quickly it almost felt like when you and Yoongi were separated the morning you found out he was your soulmate. You thought you were dying as your heart beat so quickly.

You closed your eyes and took a breath as the plane engine rumbled behind you and the plane began accelerating down the runaway.

“Tae," you said, your voice sounded desperate and as if you were about to cry. "C-Can you hold my hand? Just until the seatbelt sign is off?"

Taehyung didn't respond, but took hold of your hand and intertwined your fingers. You sat for a few seconds as the plane jolted into the air.

"Ah!" Tae pulled his hand away. His palm was red and his hand shook in shock. You reached to examine his hand. "No, no," he said.

"Did--did I do that?"

"I think so," he said. "I know you didn't mean to."

"I'm sorry."

You sighed and brought your knees to your chest and rested your head on them as you glanced out the window. You were almost above the clouds, the plane skimming the very tops. Watching the clouds--while it didn't necessarily relax you--it did allow you to get out of your mind enough until the seatbelt light clicked off.

You unhooked your seatbelt and walked past the members and to the first class bathroom. You were stunned when you entered to find it at least double the size of the typical economy class bathroom, but the thought soon passed as you caught sight of yourself in the mirror.

A large brown stain nearly covered the entire front of your T-shirt and your hair was falling out of its ponytail. You sighed, realizing you hadn't grabbed a new shirt out of your carry on. You unlocked the door and pushed it open, only to reveal Yoongi standing in the doorway.

His hands rested on either side of the door and he looked up at you, your eyes meeting for the first time since the fight.

You backed into the bathroom and Yoongi followed you in, closing and locking the door behind him. "Take your shirt off," he said.

"What?" You instinctively crossed your arms as he reached from the hem of your T-shirt.

"Did it burn you?"

You uncrossed your arms and allowed him to lift your shirt over your head. He tossed it aside and unbuttoned his own as he looked over your torso. No burns, only the fading hickeys he'd left earlier in the week.

He finished unbuttoning his flannel--revealing his own white T-shirt underneath--and draped it over your shoulders and began to button it.

"Won't they notice when we get to Japan that I'm wearing your shirt?"

"Probably."

"What's happening? I hurt Tae and Namjoon mentioned something about not being able to touch you," you said, focusing down on his hands as they finished buttoning the flannel. He was careful not to allow his touches to linger too long, but whenever he pulled away, it felt as if your heart was going to come out of your chest and follow him.

He rolled up the sleeve of his T-shirt exposing a fresh red burn that looked much like the one you'd unintentionally given Taehyung.

"It happened when Namjoon tried to wake me up," he said. "I think it has to do with the argument we got into last night."

Your gaze fell to the floor as he mentioned the argument. "So, do we have to work it out, or is it a permanent thing until we figure out how to sever the connection?"

"I don't know," Yoongi said. "But, I have a fan meeting tomorrow and I feel like my flesh will burn off by the end."

You smirked and couldn't help the chuckle in the back of your throat. "Is that the only reason you're here? So, your hand doesn't burn off?"

Yoongi's eyes widened. You realized the harshness of your words only after you had said them, but you didn't regret them. You straightened your back and kept your eyes locked on his.

When he grabbed your hand, your muscles relaxed and the exhaustion you'd felt from the previous days overwhelming you. Your eyelids drooped and you barely felt how your head came to rest just below his collarbones and his arms interlocked at the small of your back.

"No, I really am sorry, Sumi," he said, his voice barely audible over the sound of the plane's engine. "I regretted everything as soon as I said it. I was unfair."

You opened your eyes, but couldn't bring yourself to look at him. You simply caught a look at yourself in the mirror. Yoongi's flannel coming down to your thighs and the way your arms wrapped around him completely.

"I shouldn't have said anything to him," you said. "I wasn't thinking."

"Shhh," Yoongi said, one of his hands coming to play with your falling out ponytail. "Jimin told me you were crying last night." You didn't respond but rather turned your face into his chest. "Don't cry over me, okay? Especially if I'm being stupid like that. I'm not worth it."

Tears tickled your eyes. "You said I was stupid--"

"I didn't mean it. Sumi, you speak two languages and you teach English. You're so smart and you don't even know it. I never should've said anything."

You pulled away from him, but the air felt lighter around you. You glanced at yourself in your mirror.

"My god," you said, in English, pulling out your ponytail and allowing your hair to fluff out around your face. You used your hands to smooth back the hair, but stopped when he placed his hands on top of yours.

"Let me do it," he said. Yoongi took hold of the hair tie and did the same motion with his hands, but due to his vantage point, he was able to pull your hair tighter.

"How about on our day off in Japan I take you on a proper date?" he asked, tying up your hair.

"I'd like that," you said, turning around and smiling up at him.

He only responded with the smile you'd come to love.

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masterwords · 4 years ago

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Protector

Notes: At 2am, while I tried to finish up the final chapter of My Cup is Empty, I had this stupid thought - what if Morgan got a random call saying he was Hotch's emergency contact while he was in the hospital? Clearly this says a big ol' FU to the whole WITSEC ordeal and just assumes things moved along business as usual after Morgan left. It's just a big old mess of SOFT & SAD with Morgan and Hotch and Hank. (This is platonic, no romantic Mortch here.) Now I have to get back to work on the other story...oops. Title & lyrics from Protector by Massive Attack. I listened to a lot of Massive Attack and Radiohead writing this and it shows.

Warnings: Post-op, cancer/biopsy scare, a little blood, pain. Need whump for fluff.

Words: 4550(ish)

And I've leaned on you for years Now you can lean on me And that's more than love That's the way it should be

“Is this Derek Morgan?”

Phone calls that started that way were always bad in Derek's experience. He confirmed his identity with some hesitation and waited, listened as the nurse explained the situation and when Hank squawked loudly he blinked, realizing he'd been holding his breath since she began talking. He let it out slowly and smiled at his son, bouncing up and down on his knee, wild curls flying as he threw his head back in the pure ecstasy that only a toddler feels.

“I'll be right there,” he replied, setting his phone down. He smiled again at Hank, bounced him a few more times and told him they had to go see mommy, a simple statement that made the boy squeal with glee and clap his chubby little hands.

He spent a lot of time in the hospital now, but it was almost always for pleasure – he would bring Hank down on Savannah's lunch breaks and they would eat in the cafeteria with mommy, then return to whatever it was they'd been doing prior. Sometimes they would drop her off before running errands and pick her up at bed time, it was like a second home and for the first time in Derek's adult life he didn't feel dread thinking about those fluorescent lights. Until now, as he drove the familiar route, a pit formed in his stomach, an ache that climbed up and settled in his ribs.

“I'm here to see Aaron Hotchner,” he told the nurse at the admitting desk, flashing her his biggest smile, like usual. She glanced at her computer, poked at the keys a few times and gave him a room number without asking questions, without telling him where to go. Just a number and faith that he could find his way because he practically lived there. Hank squirmed in his arms, eager to go see mommy, eager to push all of the buttons on the elevator and wave hello to everyone they passed. Normally Derek would smile back, would interact with his son, but his features were solemn. The room was full of staff when he arrived, doctors and nurses and technicians buzzing around the bed, around Aaron lying there with his eyes closed though Derek doubted he was sleeping. Savannah met him in the hallway and poked at Hank, making incoherent noises at him as she played a quick game of peekaboo around daddy's back.

“Derek?” she asked, breaking him from his trance. He blinked down at her and shook his head.

“Sorry,” he muttered, not sure where his head had gone. “So what's going on? Why did they call me?”

“You're his emergency contact.” She said it like he knew it, but it didn't check out. No, he was sure it had to be an error – it would be Jessica or Rossi, not him. “Nothing happened, this was a scheduled routine procedure, he's okay Derek. It's just that he's being kept for observation after some minor complications with the anesthesia, he'll be here for a few hours and he'll need a ride home so they pulled a name from his file. I guess his ex-wife was still listed...” her voice trailed off for a minute when she saw a shadow cross Derek's face. “I know. It's probably just been awhile since anyone has bothered to call his emergency contact instead of his HCPOA. If you'd rather they call Agent Rossi, I can - “

“No, it's fine. I'm already here.”

She nodded and poked at Hank's nose. “I'm off in an hour, I'll grab Hank and you can stick around.”

“Yeah...okay...” And she wouldn't bother pushing for more. She knew their history, at least from her husband's point of view but he sounded pretty fair about everything, and she'd prodded at him for objective opinions when she could tell his emotions were in the way. Even still, it was their relationship to rekindle or torch as they desired, not hers. She watched as Derek stepped into the now cleared out room, holding his squirming son close, and approached Aaron's bed. Close on his heels, she followed, having offered to help his surgeon with post-op rounds, mostly to keep an eye on the situation. She knew the two of them could be like oil and water and the last thing she needed was to have Aaron agitated post-op.

“Agent Hotchner?” she asked, and Derek looked at her funny, wondering why she would address him that way when he wasn't on duty. He opened his eyes, blinked sleepily a few times, shifted his focus to Derek and Hank for a brief moment before looking back at Savannah. Bright flashes and deep shadows swam in his sight, surrounding the people he could barely make out. Glasses, he needed his glasses, opened his mouth to ask for them but Savannah stopped him, asked him not to speak. “Do you know where you are?” He nodded. Derek turned away, let them talk, focused on Hank – he scooted around the room, showing him all of the cool tools and beeping machines and the television remote.

“Why isn't he talking?” Derek hissed, sidling up next to his wife. He knew Aaron could hear him, almost hoped he'd chime in with some snide comment but nothing happened, he just lay there.

“Do you mind if I fill Derek in?” she asked, turning to Aaron for a moment and he just shrugged and shook his head, and Derek thought he saw a look of relief flash across his features. He was off the hook, he could close his eyes and not worry about thinking. In a hushed voice she explained the procedure he'd been scheduled for and what they'd found when they were in, that they'd decided to alter course and needed to get tissue samples – what had been a simple outpatient procedure became a need for general anesthesia, no time for him to prepare, to get a ride. His doctor had just finished explaining it all to him, and she knew he couldn't have understood it all, sort of hoped Derek would take the reins but the look on his face told her she may have been expecting too much. “What is it?” she asked, and he licked his lips, leaning so close that their faces nearly touched.

“Is it cancer?” he asked, and she bit into her lip, inclining her head toward the door, leading him further away from the bed. Out of earshot. Aaron didn't move, just lay there with his eyes closed, not sleeping. He knew what they were talking about, what those hushed tones meant, it had been all he could think about for weeks to the point of distraction. The haze of the anesthesia was a welcome release from considering his mortality, what would happen to Jack, the guilt.

“That's what they're hoping to rule out, given his family history,” she whispered. “Derek, just be gentle. I know how you can be. Especially with him.”

He wanted to be offended at that but he couldn't, she was right. “What do you think?” he asked, thinly veiled desperation in his voice and that brief flash of vulnerability made her smile, just a little. "Do you think it's cancer? He looks sick, doesn't he?"

“Derek...I think we need to wait for the results, and you need to be a good friend. Don't make him watch ESPN. Don't drink his juice or eat his jello.”

Hank babbled away at Sesame Street on the television, squirming out of Derek's lap every chance he got to trudge around the room, try to pull at cords and get into the garbage bins. He stomped, he roared, Aaron smiled every so often. As the anesthesia wore off, he became more aware of the pain in his throat, shards of glass and doused in gasoline, lit on fire every time he moved. Swallowing took a concerted effort, he'd never been a man who liked spitting but he desperately wanted to just so he wouldn't have to constrict his throat, let the saliva slide through the raw pulp. He let his eyes follow Hank when he'd escape Derek's grip, the sly little grin as he evaded capture, it helped, he didn't pay so much attention to the pain and he hadn't considered the biopsy results since Hank got restless and began terrorizing the room, forcing Derek to chase him around with that stressed dad look on his face, worried that he would break some expensive equipment or somehow hurt Aaron when he rammed the bed.

A nurse came in with an ice pack for his throat, the pressure hurt as she packed it against his skin, made him gag and cough. It was a horrible, wet sounding thing that twisted his face in agony and she reached out, grabbed a handful of paper towels and a small plastic dish, held it to his mouth, letting him spit into it rather than swallow. When she pulled her hand away and wiped at his chin, he could see the blood, bright red and he hoped Hank hadn't been watching.

“So you can't talk huh?” Derek asked, crossing his arms around Hank's midsection, holding him firmly in place. “A whole week of silence outta you?” Aaron nodded, and he wondered if that was a big deal. He wasn't much of a talker in the first place, but he supposed if anyone had any cause to want him to shut up it might be Derek, he'd dealt with him longer than anyone else.

By the time Savannah took Hank he was sleeping in Derek's arms while all three of them watched Cookie Monster sing his ABCs intently. She scooped her son into her arms, kissed Derek on the cheek and said goodnight to both of them, leaving them to sit in silence, never bothering to switch the channel. Aaron hadn't asked again for his glasses, did have any contacts on hand, he couldn't see the television anyway. He would shut his eyes, and Derek had figured out that meant he felt nauseous, something Savannah had warned him to watch for as the pain medication settled in and the anesthesia wore off, but he had to call someone if he thought Aaron might actually be sick, they needed to try to keep him from it if possible. When he closed his eyes, Derek leaned close, told him to breathe, offered him ice chips and ginger ale and it passed without issue time after time.

Aaron's discharge was late, and Derek insisted on walking him into his apartment, unsteady on his feet as he was. There was an odd sense of familiarity there that he wasn't ready to explore yet, it had been a year since they'd last seen one another and it felt like a lifetime had passed between them. When had Aaron gotten so old? When had he? The last time he'd checked, they were just kids, he was sure of it. The silence in the apartment got to him first, and he wanted to ask Aaron where Jack was, why it was so quiet. Aaron beat him to it, though, he'd grabbed a pad of paper and a pen, scribbled out a small note thanking Derek for coming and for the ride, apologizing for the call, ensuring him he'd change his contacts right away and Derek just shook his head.

“You never change,” he muttered. “Keep it the way it is. I got you.” Aaron reached for the pad, started to write again but Derek stopped him, held his hand over Aaron's and eased the pen and paper out of his grip. “You need to sleep. Don't worry about whatever it is you're worrying about...just sleep.” Aaron nodded, defeated. He just stood there staring at Derek for a moment, wondering if Derek would bring up what he knew, what Savannah had told him, but as the silence stretched between them Aaron understood that Derek was going to let him have it, hold on to his private worry for now. His order to stop worrying and sleep was the closest he would get to the entire topic for the night.

Derek left soon after, went home and slipped into bed beside his beautiful wife and spent half of the night thinking about Aaron being alone, no one to share his fears with, no one to reassure him, to lay beside him and let him soak in their warmth.

“I'm gonna spend the day at Hotch's tomorrow,” Derek whispered and Savannah hummed, nodding in that half asleep way.

“Good,” she mumbled against the pillow, and as he opened his mouth to speak again she shushed him, snuggling in closer.

He wasn't sure if 8am was too early, but there he was, Hank in one arm and a carry tray full of drinks in the other. Hank reached out and pushed the doorbell, and then he pushed it again and again and again until they heard the deadbolt click and the door swung slowly open to reveal Aaron, still in his pajamas and robe, a disheveled mess. It was immediately clear that he hadn't slept, and he didn't bother to try and argue Derek's presence, just let the door swing open and padded back to the couch, to his nest of blankets. He knew how this went, it wasn't the first time he was vulnerable and found Derek knocking on his door - protesting was futile. He'd almost been hoping for it this time, he was so lonely. On the coffee table was a mess of pill bottles, some open, some closed, and a glass of water half empty.

“Did you take any of those?” Derek asked, glancing around the room for a safe place to put Hank, somewhere he wouldn't wreak havoc immediately, and decided on a chair at the table, setting his breakfast before him in the hopes he would be distracted enough for a few minutes to eat it. Aaron shook his head, he had tried, was told he could take certain medications and he'd tried but he couldn't swallow them, just ended up coughing them back up into the carpet, into his blankets, into his hands. It had been a lesson in humiliation, even if it was only the walls that saw.

“I told you to sleep. You had one job,” Derek said, crouching beside Aaron's prone form on the couch, curled up now inside of his blankets. He made no attempt at movement, just huddled there miserably while Derek attempted to put lids on all of the bottles and scoop them up, out of Hank's reach. “Savannah says you'll probably get your test results back tomorrow, so I figured I'd just hang out with you until you do. I knew you'd hate it, too...makes it more fun for me.”

Aaron turned his eyes up at Derek that time, tried to force a scowl but it wasn't nearly as intimidating now, buried in blankets.

"You worried about what they'll say?" Derek asked, pressing the last lid on tight. Aaron was still for a moment, closed his eyes briefly, and nodded. Of course he was worried. He'd been sick for the better part of a year, bout after bout of what they called bronchitis but there was always that lingering fear that it was more, and every morning when he looked in the mirror he saw his father's face staring back at him. Saying I told you so, son. See you soon, son. He could feel Derek's eyes on him, could sense the man trying to decide between serious and silly as a response, and when he opened his eyes and met Derek's, he could feel the other man's concern radiating off of him. "I'm not worried. You're gonna be fine."

The day flew by, Derek and Hank wreaking havoc on Aaron's otherwise tidy apartment. Derek figured out the pill situation, called Savannah and asked if she could get him a prescription for a liquid pain medicine at least because he was miserable and no amount of ice on his throat or popsicles helped. He'd wondered why the rest of the team wasn't beating down the door but found that Aaron had told them he was taking a week of vacation after he'd scheduled his procedure, none of them had any idea what was really going on and as much as he wanted to talk to Penelope about it, he couldn't break that trust. It would kill them to know the fear he was hiding from them anyway, it was better just to keep it quiet. They couldn't handle seeing him fragile, and he would have put on a show for them when he needed to just be lost and vulnerable.

By the time they'd gone for the night Aaron was exhausted and his entire home had been redecorated by a toddler with curious hands, somehow he didn't mind it at all. Just made him miss Jack, wish he had his son there with him while he avoided thinking about his mortality being dangled mercilessly before his eyes. Bone tired didn't begin to describe the way he felt, and when Derek left, he had grand plans to move to his bed but found himself unable to get off of the couch. It took all of his effort just to shift, to take a sip of the ice water Derek had left for him on the table, holding the glass with a trembling hand as if it weighed a ton. The warmth of the blankets and the otherworldly calm the pain medicine gave him were enough to hold him in a trance for much of the night.

In the morning, he was met with the same smiling faces at his door, weighted down with so much gear Aaron wondered if they were planning to move in with him and he greeted them the same way he'd done the day before – barely alive, barely standing, focusing all of his effort on placing one foot in front of the other to make it safely back to the couch. Derek commented that he looked awful, and he thought he might as well look as bad as he felt but he couldn't say a thing, just burrowed back into his blankets and stifled what might have come out as a moan or an exhausted cry, swallowing it deep with his worries and regrets. He'd been awake all night thinking about Jack, about Haley, about Sean and his parents and every time one memory would conclude another found its way in, good and bad mingling as the minutes ticked by on the clock. With a smile, Derek crouched before him and handed him a slushy, neon green and blue swirled together and when Aaron didn't make a move to reach for it, he set the straw to his friend's lips and waited for him to take the bait. He knew there was no way Aaron could hold out forever, not on a slushy. Savannah had told him no hot liquids for a day or two, but ice water and slushies and even ice cream would be good. Hank didn't mind the treats either. By the time Aaron's phone rang, Hank was happily eating his lunch at the table and Derek was seated on the couch beside his friend watching some mindless daytime television. Aaron handed Derek the phone, and at first Derek balked, he couldn't take the call, but Aaron couldn't speak and there wasn't much choice. He wondered what Aaron would have done if he'd not been there. Probably would have talked, wrecked his throat.

He put the call on speaker and they both listened as the nurse gently eased them into the conversation, beginning with the very simple statement that the lesions they found were benign and without any hesitation Derek found himself reaching out and grabbing Aaron's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. The rest was a blur of information about infection, elevated white blood cells, blood pressure, stress, all things Derek was sure Aaron had heard numerous times before as reasons for him simply not feeling well. He didn't take care of himself, he had a terrible work life balance, his job was going to kill him. The call ended and the two of them remained sitting there in silence, Derek's hand still wrapped tight around Aaron's, and he glanced over to see tears streaming down Aaron's cheek. He sniffled, stifled a cough threatening to wreck his throat and squeezed his eyes shut. There was a flood of relief, and something like sadness, and he thought he might be sick.

“Hey,” Derek said, scooting closer. “You're all good. I called it, right?” A few more moments passed, and Derek knew Aaron needed to sleep, thought maybe now that he had his results he might.

“I gotta run a quick errand, Hank needs a nap...you think you could lay down with him?” Aaron regarded him seriously for a moment before nodding. He hadn't taken his pain medication that morning and was regretting it, but he was sharp enough to watch Hank at least. Gently, he helped Aaron up, tugged at Hank to follow them and settled them both into Aaron's bed. Hank rubbed at his eyes, he was so easy to put to sleep they often wondered how they got so lucky and Derek's mother warned them that he'd been a very easy baby as well but he turned into a monster on his 3rd birthday. He sat beside Hank for a minute, singing softly to him while his eyes fluttered closed, his little body relaxing into the warmth of Aaron's bed.

When he returned with some groceries he found them both asleep, just as he'd hoped, Aaron curled into a ball beside Hank who had sprawled his tiny little limbs out like a starfish. Aaron's hand was on Hank's stomach, the sign of a parent, just making sure, sleeping but keenly aware of each breath and each movement anyway. He let them sleep well into the afternoon, and it was Hank that woke first with a squawk and a thump as he rolled off of the bed and leapt to his feet. Aaron followed soon after, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He was met with a hand, outstretched with a glass for him as he entered the kitchen.

“Banana milkshake,” Derek grinned. “In my house, we celebrate good news. I don't know how you do things around here but as long as I'm in charge...” Aaron regarded him sourly, furrowing his brow. He wanted to ask what it was that made Derek think he was in charge but as he reached out and took the glass, sipping the frosty concoction, he relented. It was pretty clear. The cold soothed the burning in his throat, though he found himself longing for something warm, something hot even – a bowl of soup, and wondered if he was allowed, he had tried to read the discharge papers but couldn't manage to focus on the words, was flying blind just letting Derek lead the way. So it was, Derek was in charge. Derek watched him drink his milkshake curiously. “You need something? You look like you wanna say something...”

Indicating the paper and pen on the counter, he invited Aaron over, watched as he scrawled the word SOUP? In big, swooping letters. Derek laughed and nodded. “Yeah, man, I can make you some soup. I brought chicken and stars for Hank, you guys can share it. Savannah said you're allowed some soft food today if you're up to it.”

They came by every day that week, while Aaron was silently moping around his apartment. Aaron ate whatever Hank ate, their diets so closely mimicked one another it was just easier for Derek and he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy making his old boss toddler food. Hank had taken to sleeping in Aaron's bed, and Derek's rule was simply that Hank couldn't sleep in there alone so Aaron would have to lay with him and he fell asleep every single time within minutes. He'd gone from one to two children abruptly, and the small one was better behaved in the long run, he listened better. At the end of the week, Jessica brought Jack back from spending some time visiting cousins and instantly Jack gravitated toward Hank, sitting on the floor, playing peekaboo with him. He couldn't believe how big Hank had gotten, how long it had been since he'd seen him.

“He was like this big when I saw him!” Jack exclaimed, holding his hands comically close together and all of the adults laughed. Aaron felt guilty, he should have called Derek, should have taken Jack to visit, should have been a better friend. Derek probably could have used another father to vent to, to ask questions of, and he'd been MIA. A whole year had passed.

“A year, can you believe it? Saw your ugly mug just about every day for almost twenty years and now it's been an entire year since I last saw you. I'm sorry, man.” Derek verbalized everything running through Aaron's head, like they'd been sharing the same thoughts, except Aaron knew it was on him. Derek was busy being a new father, figuring out what to do with his life without the BAU, it wasn't his job to reach out too.

Aaron was sore, acutely aware of the subtle ringing in his ear punctuating every painful breath through his raw throat. He hadn't been able to swallow his medications in days and his hands ached, stiffness settling into his angry joints. The liquid painkiller they'd given him offered his only release from any of it and it just made him feel soft, pliable, relaxed, not pain free. He felt so old all of a sudden, and he watched from his nest of blankets as Jack and Hank played with the mess of toys Jack was hauling out from his room to the living room. Jessica put her hand on Aaron's shoulder, standing behind him, and he angled his head to look up at her. She raised an eyebrow, a silent question, and he shook his head just a little, and somehow she knew it meant his results were good, he was going to be okay, so she grabbed her glass of water and sat on his other side, resting against him. He may have felt old and useless, but he was flanked by people he loved dearly. It had to count for something.

As Derek prepared Hank to go home, packing up the tornado of toddler things thrown around Aaron's apartment like they'd moved in, he wondered at the strange week they'd had. It struck Derek then that Aaron hadn't said one single word the entire week they were together but it was never a problem, they never did need to talk in order to know what the other needed or was thinking. With Hank in his arms, he bid goodnight to Jessica and Jack while Aaron walked him to the door, blanket draped around his shoulders.

“I've missed you,” Aaron rasped, wincing at the pain. His voice sounded wrong, disconnected from himself. He was disobeying doctors orders, Derek wouldn't tell Savannah, he just smiled. He knew Aaron would have liked to say more, could imagine there was a thank you in there, some kind of you-didn't-have-to-stay thrown in, maybe an apology for taking up so much of his time, but the words he did choose to speak were the important ones. Derek just nodded, pulled Aaron in for a hug with one arm and felt Hank wrap his little arms around Aaron's neck, delivering a slobbery kiss on his cheek and they backed up. He wanted to reply, to tell Aaron he missed him too, they should talk more, he was glad everything was okay, they should go out for a beer sometime but he'd been talking all week, it was his turn to stay silent.

Aaron already knew what he would say anyway.

#criminal minds #fanfiction #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #savannah hayes #hank spencer morgan #jack hotchner #jessica brooks #sick aaron hotchner #post op #tw cancer #depression #fear #anxiety #hurt/comfort #hotch whump

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wastelandlovingscenarios · 4 years ago

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One time when Deacon and I went to a gas station or something and he said "great, I've been holding it in for mile" or something like that. Now I'm wondering how exchanges like this go when companions need a bathroom break. Peeing is easier since they're guys but toilets aren't always available so they'd probably have to pop a squat in the wastes lol. I bet it's super awkward to tell sole they "gotta go" when they're newly recruited and don't know each other very well 😂(1/2)

I can already imagine sole just fucking with them by saying dumb shit like "don't forget to wipe" or "make sure you give it a few shakes before we go"😂. (I know, I'm immature😁) Anyway how do newly recruited companions(+Preston) handle bathroom situations out in the wastes? Bonus if sole messes with them a bit while they just kinda stand around on look out and waits for him to finish his business lmfao😭. (2/2)end

??? idk if i don’t play fallout enough but i never noticed these little dialogues ?? 😭 i’ve always wondered how the characters in fallout use the restroom cs god knows that they can’t hold that bitch in all day. i just wrote this based off of my opinion. thank you for requesting! i hope you don’t mind that i kept it somewhat general. ❤️

i removed nick from this scenario because i doubt he’s physically able to use the restroom anyway.

Danse:

danse is very, very embarrassed to use the restroom anywhere besides the prydwen, the cambridge police station, or the boston airport. he just thinks having his pants down in the middle of a forest or an abandoned restroom leaves him vulnerable to many hazards that could occur at any given second, so he’d absolutely refuse to use the restroom until the next safest destination. he’d try his very best to hold his business in, refraining from showing any signs of discomfort so sole wouldn’t question him. if he really couldn’t hold it in any longer, he’d shyly call out for sole who would divert their attention immediately towards their now blushing companion. “yes, paladin?” they would watch as his eyes traveled everywhere but at them. “i, uh, need to use the restroom.” sole would let out a small, “oh”, before looking around and pointing at a red rocket station nearby. “cmon, lets get moving. don’t want you to piss your pants on me halfway through the mission.” he would grumble, his face growing more crimson at soles comment, “that was highly unnecessary, soldier.” they would only let out a hearty chuckle as they made their way towards red rocket. he’d quickly do his business and be on his way out, avoiding eye contact with sole for a few moments. they would laugh at his behavior, only causing the paladin to blush more. maybe he shouldn’t have left cambridge.

Deacon:

deacon is the opposite of danse. he’s far from embarrassed with using the restroom, knowing that everyone needs to do their business. it was a part of human nature after all, so why would he be ashamed? besides, let’s face it, he’d probably fart in sole’s face for all we fucking know. if they made a stop at somewhere with a restroom, he’d probably tell sole that he was gonna go take a bathroom break and make some stupid exaggerated fart noises with his mouth while he was in the restroom. if they were no where near a restroom and he couldn’t hold it in any longer, he’d simply point to the bushes nearby and notify sole that he was gonna drop a big one as a joke. they’d laugh, nudging him on the side. “make sure to wipe, im sure there’s some stray leaves there to assist you.” they teased, watching him head over to the bushes. he’d push his glasses up before shrugging playfully, “i dunno charmer, last time i did that, got a huge rash on my ass that wouldn’t go away. carrington had to check on it every week to make sure it didn’t get worse.” sole rolled their eyes, facing forward so they can keep watch. they didn’t know if it was a lie or truth but then again, they wouldn’t be surprised if it was either.

Hancock:

hancock’s probably also not embarrassed with using the restroom. maybe he’d be more conscious if he was dropping a number 2, but a number 1 was nothing to him. he’d prefer to use the restroom in privacy but he also wouldn’t really give a fuck using it in the wilderness if there was no other option. hell, he couldn’t care less if someone snapped a photo of him shitting in a hole. if he were to approach sole about it in the middle of nowhere, he’d keep it calm and casual, simply telling them he needed to go take a piss. sole would nod at him with a teasing smirk, “make sure to give it a few shakes before you go. we wouldn’t want anything leaking down there.” hancock laughed before winking at sole. “that’s not the only thing that leaks through there.” sole would blush, not used to his flirtatious and provacative comments yet but would friskily shove him further into the forest with a small chuckle. “go before i change my mind about keeping watch and let the yao guai’s eat you themselves.” he’d still keep that stupid smile on his face as he walked in deeper. “love the enthusiasm, sister/brother.”

Maccready:

he hates having sole around whenever he needs the restroom, whether in the wilderness or in a more secure area. he knows it’s a normal thing to do to get through the day but he can’t help but feel shy whenever he needs it. the thought of someone being around while he’s doing his business doesnt sit right with him, so majority of the day, he’ll either suck it up or do it when he knows sole will be distracted for a bit or sleeping. he probably would never bring it up himself, even if he really needed it. eventually, they would notice his discomfort while they were in the middle of no where and ask if he’s okay. “i’m fine. just need the restroom but i can wait.” he’d lie, trying to act as normal as he possibly could. “you can go, you know. i won’t judge,” he watched as sole raised a brow, an amused smile playing on their face, “we smell like shit already, i don’t need you adding onto it.” maccready would blush profusely and cross his arms like a child throwing a tantrum, “shut up, you’re not helping.” they would shrug and continue walking ahead of him, “fine. suit yourself, i doubt there’s a bathroom around. we’re probably like a thousand miles away from the nearest toilet.” eventually, mac wouldnt be able to hold it in any longer and would scurry off to the trees nearby to which sole laughed at. he’d glare at them childishly, “i’d like some privacy, please.” sole would turn around, much to maccreadys comfort and kept watch, “whatever floats your boat, mac.”

Gage:

when i say this man doesn’t give a fuck, i absolutely mean it with all my heart. if he has to piss at the top of trinity tower, then so be it. he’s not shy at all with announcing his needs to go use the restroom and would just go without notifying sole majority of the time. he wouldn’t care if he knew sole for a day, week, or 50 years from now, he would still do his own business anywhere and everywhere he wanted to. there would be at one point of their relationship where sole wouldn’t even have to ask where he’s going, they would just naturally know by instinct. their only request was to do it as far away as possible from them, to which gage obliged. some days, sole would pull out a joke before he headed to his destination, “make sure the radroaches don’t bite your ass, wouldn’t want to treat that.” he’d scoff before slinging his rifle over his shoulder, returning their joke with another. “doubt it’d be like that boss. the smell will have them runnin’ instead.” sole would snicker, wiping off the bloodstains off of her switchblade. of course gage would say something like that.

Preston:

naturally, preston is often shy about it but isn’t afraid to confront sole. he knows it’s unhealthy to hold it in and wants to ensure that he doesn’t get himself sick from doing it, so he tries to use it whenever he feels the urge to. the only time he’ll really hold it in is if they’re being attacked or in a dangerous situation. preston is fine with using restrooms in buildings, but will absolutely refuse to do his business in the wilderness. there’s just no absolute way he’ll do that, he’d rather just hold it in until they reach the nearest building. if he were to confront sole about it, he’d just shyly request that they’d stop by the nearest building with a restroom to do his business. sole would flash him a grin and accommodate his needs, looking at their pip boy for the nearest area. preston would probably thank them the whole time for going through the trouble just to ensure his comfort but they’d wave it off. before he’d enter the restroom, sole would look over their shoulder, a shiteating smile plastered on their face, “know how to aim or you’ll make it rain.” he’d blush embarrassingly but awkwardly smiled back as an attempt to be polite, “i’ll, um, be sure to, general.” they’d chuckle and gesture for him to go do his thing.

#fallout 4 #fallout #fallout 4 companions #fallout 4 companions react #fallout 4 reacts #fo4 reacts #fo4 #danse #paladin danse #hancock #john hancock #maccready #robert joseph maccready #nick valentine #deacon #preston #porter gage #gage #react

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somepinkthing · 5 years ago

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@angstymdzsthoughts because tumblr still won't lemme reblog correctly

---

"He was such a tiny baby. Almost a month early and had trouble breathing. He was nearly half a year old before we felt safe letting him breathe the cold, mountain air for more than a few minutes at a time. I hated how my parents all paid him so much mind and I hated how he could break all our hearts in one fell swoop. They had already had one stillborn, I didn't think their hearts could take another dead child. So I swaddled him and prayed for him, and, lo and behold, he lived. He made it past his first year, then his second. And before I knew it, I was a man grown and he was a healthy brat with no breathing troubles to speak of and playing in the snow right where you're kneeling."

Nie Mingjue had never been a man of words. Jin Guangyao hadn't known he had this kind of eloquence in him, especially given the smell of alcohol permeating the room.

It felt like a funeral rite coming from the man seated above him.

Jin Guangyao swallowed nervously and shifted on his knees, not daring to move from his prostrate position on the ground. He had no doubt in his mind that he was no match for his eldest brother, however inebriated the man may be. Escape was futile, begging for mercy was his only hope. Slim hope that it was.

Suddenly, something heavy pressed down on Jin Guangyao's lowered head. Nie Mingjue's boot. Lan Xichen made an aborted move to help before squaring his features and stepping down.

"DaGe, we need him," was all the protest Lan Xichen put up. Guangyao felt his heart and eyes sting at the indifference from the First Jade.

The boot pressed heavier against the back of Guangyao's head, grinding his forehead into the ground hard. He grit his teeth against the pain and bore it in silence, not wanting his pathetic whimpers to set the man off. Nie Mingjue's emotions were already on high alert. Not that he could be blamed, Guangyao supposed. Even with Lan Xichen playing Clarity for two and a half weeks for him non-stop, there was a lot of damage to undo if he did say so himself. And besides that...

Nie Mingjue picked up where he left off.

"He was still so tiny when I became his guardian. He hugged me at the funeral and told me he wasn't gonna let me go too. I told him that I'd be around to watch out for him."

Nie Mingjue stopped short and choked on his breath. The body standing on Guangyao shook and trembled--yet another display of emotion Jin Guangyao hadn't previously believed Nie Mingjue to be capable of.

"He was still so tiny when I buried him..."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Er-Ge step over, presumably to provide comfort and stable qi, to soothe the overflow of grief. It didn't work.

"I am the oldest!" Nie Mingjue roared with a sob, shaking Xichen off, "I am the oldest son, I was-was the older brother! I am larger and stronger and I was meant to use that to protect my sect, my family, my brother! So, Jin Guangyao!"

Guangyao couldn't help the scream of pain when the boot lifted up only to come crashing back down on his head, stomping him into the unforgiving Qinghe dirt.

"Tell me why I am here alone! Tell me why I am the last Nie! Tell me why I am alive and Huaisang is dead!"

With every demand, he stomped down harder and harder until Jin Guangyao was certain his face had made a true imprint in the semi-frozen ground.

"Tell me why I heard my brother wheeze out his dying breath when he stopped having breathing problems when he was five."

Jin Guangyao could only whimper, face too far into the ground to give a proper reply. This was unfair! What did this monster expect him to say?! He already knew all the answers, why torture him? He knew for whom Guangyao had done this, it wasn't like it was all his fault!

"Tell me why I'm here and he's not."

Finally, Nie Mingjue picked his foot up and stepped back. Guangyao couldn't help it--he whipped his head up, forgoing decorum, and took in large gulps of air while cursing Nie Mingjue's brute force out in the safety of his own mind.

Lan Xichen watched as Jin Guangyao became angrier and angrier. Er-Ge watched his twisted face judgementally, as if he knew what he was thinking and it disgusted him.

"You don't think this is your fault," he accused, "You truly believe you're a victim, don't you?"

Jin Guanyao's heart dropped at the tone Lan Xichen took.

"Er-Ge, if you could just hear me out--"

"I cannot. I have heard enough out of you these past few weeks. All we are here to do is ask one question, was your father involved? Did he sanction this?"

Jin Guangyao nodded eagerly. This was what he needed! An opening to explain!

"Yes! It was all my father! I was but a tool! Please, my brothers, you have to believe me!"

Lan Xichen closed his eyes and sighed. Disappointment was painful thing to see marring his features.

"You plan on dying like a lying dog, huh? Not even going to spare some dignity in death?"

Nie Mingjue drew Baxia and began stalking towards his two sworn brothers as he spoke. "We know your moronic father couldn't have come up with this intricate of a plan. We know you've been playing with Qi since the day Xichen taught you that song! We checked the damage to my core and estimated the timeframe!"

Nie Mingjue stopped right in front of Jin Guangyao.

"Tell the truth. Did your father get involved?" His grip on Baxia tightened.

"Y-yes. He knew and-and he encouraged it," Guangyao choked out. If he couldn't lie his way out compeltely then he could at least make sure his father took equal heat. His sworn brothers were righteous men, they'd never be able to justify killing him if there was another who commited the same crime. That would be unfair!

"And has he done other things in the same vein?" Nie Mingjue demanded.

Jin Guangyao bit his lip. His hesitation pissed Nie Mingjue off.

"SPEAK!"

Jin Guangyao jumped in fright.

"Of all of all the times to decide to protect others, it's now?!" Nie Mingjue growled, rolling his eyes, "Do you have any idea how fast and how gleefully your father sold you to me?!"

Jin Guangyao's blood ran cold. "W-what?"

Nie Mingjue scoffed and replied, "You're just Meng Yao again technically. Tomorrow your father said he intends to strip you of your name officially and have you striken from the records."

"He's all yours, the evil lout. Do as you wish, take your vengeance," Nie Mingjue said in a poor imitation of Jin Guangshan, distaste for the man rolling off of him in waves. Meng Yao suddenly felt sick.

"My father sanctioned everything," Meng Yao stated. Little by little the whole story came out. His father's ambitions, his lies, his machinations, his work camps the truth about Wei Wuxian and the siege, and how he had his willing, naive son doing all the heavylifting. Meng Yao carefully skimmed around the parts where he, technically, came up with some of the ideas and crafted those plans. These two... they wouldn't understand his reasons. They wouldn't understand how much his father's spproval meant to someone as lowly as him. He couldn't risk telling them the whole truth. But the sneer on Nie Mingjue's face and the bitter dissappointment on Lan Xichen's whenever his story hit a purposeful hole made him feel that perhaps they could somehow see through him now.

When Meng Yao finished his tale, he looked up just in time to see the other two share a nod. Then, to his shock, Nie Mingjue sheathed his saber and handed him a glass of water.

"Drink it."

Meng Yao did so obediently . He felt his body start tingling with mild numbness immediately. Since when did Nie Mingjue drug people?!

"Xichen insisted, to help you stay alive. I would have just snapped them and let you suffer all the pain of it."

Perhaps it was the drugs but Meng Yao could swear he was missing something important. Before he could try to figure it out, Shuoyue's sheath slip between his lips.

"Bite down," Lan Xichen commanded sounding resolute but... sad?

It wasn't until Nie Mingjue grabbed his lower leg and started twisting experimentally that Meng Yao began to understand.

"We need you to help us get your father," Lan Xichen said, grabbing Meng Yao as he started to struggle, " But we can't trust you. You cannot be allowed to run free after what you've done.... We'll need to take an arm too. You're too dangerous."

"This is for Huaisang, for my baby brother who I'll never see walk again. I hope the medicine hasn't kicked in completely, Meng Yao. I want you to remember this."

"Wait! Please!"

SNAP

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starlessskies94 · 4 years ago

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Consequence (Joel Miller x OC)

Summary: What if Joel survived his injuries from the Abby and Fireflies attack but ends up with really bad amnesia. He can’t remember his wife, Ellie, or the Outbreak; only before. How will his family bring back the man they once knew?

Pairing: Joel Miller x OC

Note: Sorry I'm a little late posting an update. After so much sadness, why don't we take a break? We need some cute happy moments...my babies are too sad. :( Here's a flashback that is well needed right now. I hope you enjoy it <3

Chapter Six

The sun had long since set, the night unusually calm and still after a morning spent travelling and walking through the Wyoming Museum that Joel had surprised the girls with for Ellie’s birthday.

It had been fun and Ada had enjoyed every second of it. That was until they’d been separated and Ellie had seen the dead Firefly and his messages of hate and anger towards the group after they’d been forced to disband.

Ada had always wondered what would become of them after Marlene’s death, she supposed now she had her answer.

They’d set up their tents for the night with a roaring campfire burning away in between them as the horses grazed contently not too far away. The older woman sat a small distance from the campsite by the water’s edge of the deep pool flooded into the forest beds. Brown eyes stare into the lazy river flowing through the fallen rocks and dead trees, filtering through the cracks into a string of waterfalls that beautifully reflected in the soft moonlight above.

She watches the water move, her mind completely quiet and undisturbed. It’s strange even now to still have quiet moments like this. She’s so used to running for her life, constantly vigilant for the sounds of nearby infected or potential threats that sometimes find their way through. But now she can relax, she can breathe and it’s glorious. There’s just that tiny nag in the corner of her mind. It tugs gently until she can no longer ignore it. She glances back to the tents, towards the young girl that is currently occupying her mind. Ellie sits quietly by the entrance of her tent, headphones in her ears, comic book on her lap as she idly flips through the pages. While Joel tends to the fire, poking and prodding here and there to keep it burning long enough for their supper to be cooked. She’d made sure to pack enough for the whole journey but Ellie had chosen to catch a few fish for tonight’s meal, what with it being her birthday and all. And as the teen was quick to remind both her and Joel…repeatedly...

My birthday, my rules.

It was the first time she’d seen it in Ellie’s eyes but it had definitely been there and it terrified her. That doubt. For so long Ellie had taken Joel and Ada’s words as fact, she had never brought up the Fireflies or what had happened in the hospital after they’d left so quickly. After all, what reason would they have to lie?

Ada felt her chest tighten at the thought. What would she say if the girl started asking questions? What would Joel say? For the first time in over a year, she was starting to feel guilty for hiding the truth of what really happened. Maybe Ellie deserved to know, maybe they never should have lied in the first place.

But as she glanced back across at her daughter, the fear went away. She was a mother and it was her duty to protect her child. No matter how old she was. And while she may not have been Ellie’s biological mom, she was every bit a mother to the girl whether they were related by blood or not. She'd raised Ellie from being a few days old after her mother had passed. And she had done the best she could with what she had.

She’s was so lost in her own barrelling train of thoughts, that she doesn’t hear Joel approaching until he sat beside her.

“Hey you doing alright over here?” He asks.

“Yeah I’m fine.” She lies and Joel instantly knows that something is wrong, the concern evident on his face as he leans closer towards her.

“No you’re not. You're worrying.” He says gently. “It's Ellie ain’t it? You saw it too.”

She doesn’t even have to question what he’s talking about. They both saw the look on Ellie’s face when they forced their way into the abandoned building and found the girl stood alone in the dark, her light illuminating the Firefly sign and the dark letters painted below.

‘Liars’

In a way it felt as if the very message was speaking directly to them. For what else could they call themselves for the stories they had spun, for the protection of a girl that they both wanted to save? That they both loved.

Ada said nothing as she moved to rest her head on Joel’s shoulder, the man sighing deeply, lifting his arm to wrap around her waist, his own head then rested upon hers. They held each other close as they’d done so many times before, staring out at the glistering water before them. The soft lapping of the water danced by the edge with the breeze of the night’s air, carrying with it the melody of chirping crickets in the long grass under foot.

“What are we gonna do?” The brunette whispers into the silence settled between them.

“With how things are going; I say we do nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“She ain’t asked about it, reckon there’s no reason to go pulling at strings until it’s time.” Joel reasoned. And he was right, Ellie was happy. She was making friends back in Jackson, learning new skills and discovering new talents. It wasn’t until Tommy had gifted her with a journal for her birthday that she actually discovered she was a pretty damn good artist. She had a bed to sleep in every night, a family to come home to, just like she’d always wanted. It was the closest thing Joel and Ada could remember from before; that somewhat resembled a normal life.

They had structure, a reason to get up in the morning. And it felt good. Eventually they moved from the water. Walking hand in hand towards the fire and sitting together, while Ellie continued quietly in her own little bubble, reading her comic book.

They glanced at one another and in that instant that their eyes met, it was decided they would keep their secret for a little longer. Ellie was happy and that was what mattered to them. Nothing more needed to be discussed.

Joel moved to tend to the burning fire, checking over the fish as it cooked above the flames. Though Ada had to quickly take over when the man sent her a lost look at the state of the food. The older man was talented at a lot of things throughout his twenty years of survival but it was obvious that cooking was not one of them. A trait that Ada found rather endearing about him. To meet this confident, strong and stoic man; only to then find out that he struggled to cook a simple can of soup without somehow managing to burn it to the bottom of the pan.

Although it was considered rather old-fashioned, Ada still enjoyed looking after Joel. After everything he had done for her and Ellie, something as simple as cooking him a decent meal made her feel like she was giving something back. She’d tried teaching him in the early days they’d arrived in Jackson but it seemed it was a skill Joel just couldn’t pick up, no matter how often she attempted it. It was a small thing but it made her feel better knowing that; even if she couldn’t control anything regarding Joel’s safety when he left on patrols, at least he wasn’t going out with an empty stomach.

With the food done Ada quickly served the meal, splitting the fresh fish between herself, Joel and Ellie. Who, as a typical teenager, said nothing as she took the plate from her mother and disappeared back into her tent, comic book under her arm and headphones still blasting in her ears. The older woman merely smiled, taking her seat back at Joel’s side as the two ate in a comfortable silence.

When they’d finished Joel had offered to wash up, a credit to his Texas manners as he moved towards the stream to fetch water. He heated it through after grabbing a rag from his backpack and once again found his place at Ada’s side.

She watched him as he worked, a smile tugging at her lips. It had been almost two years since she’d met this man and she still wasn’t quite sure what she’d done to deserve him.

If she was honest she had never loved anyone the way she loved Joel. It was almost laughable how irritating they once found each other when they'd first met. Constantly arguing over plans, ideas and routes to take to get to their destination. She’d wanted so badly to get rid of this gloomy grump, confident in her own abilities that she could find her way with Ellie on her own. And yet now she couldn’t even fathom the idea of living without him.

“Hey.” She called gently, grabbing Joel’s attention as he glanced her way. “ I wanted to thank you, for all this. Everything you’ve done for Ellie. I think this is without a doubt the best birthday she’s ever had. Back in Boston I could never really do a lot for her. Couldn’t even get her a decent present with those damn ration cards.”

“You don’t gonna thank me Ada, reckon this was good for all of us.” He said, wringing out the rag as he finished the washing up, then hanging it dry. Ada shuffled on her behind, grabbing her legs to cross them underneath her and leaned back on her arms to gaze up at him.

“Yes I do, you didn’t have to do this. And that tape you found her...I mean she loves it Joel.” He smiled at her words, his eyes moving to find Ellie still sat alone with her Walkman.

“You do realise she’ll be listening to that on repeat for months right?” She laughed with him. His face lit up with joy, it was the same feeling he’d felt when he gave her the gift in the first place. The pure wonder and glee when she played it. He looked back to Ada and his heart leaped in his chest when he saw the love in her eyes.

“Well...you know, speaking of presents, I do actually have something else.” He teased with a mischievous grin widening across his face. He kneeled down beside the woman, rummaging through his bag then pulled out a small vinyl cover. Ada’s mouth agape in surprise as she took the album from Joel, a small gasp leaving her, her smile hid behind the hand that rested on her chin.

“Joel...I...how did you…” She uttered, completely at a loss for words. It was a Fleetwood Mac album, one of her favourites in fact. The man beside her lowered himself back down, his hazel eyes level with hers.

“You said they were your favourite growing up, cause of your mom and I found a music store before we left Jackson so I figured...you know…” He explained and Ada was touched by how considerate he was. How sweet. She’d told him the story of her mother listening to the band throughout her childhood and teen years, when they’d first started to soften to one another while travelling through Pittsburgh. But that had been months ago and yet he had remembered every detail. A fact that Ada was quick to point out to him, but he just smiled and shrugged.

“I guess I do listen more than you think.” He simply said. And damn if Ada didn’t fall in love with this man all over again.

“I love it, thank you.”

“You’re welcome darlin’.”

She still hadn’t said the actual words to him yet. Which, when she thought about it seemed so ridiculous. She put the album to the side, unfold her legs and tackled the man in a hug. A reaction Joel clearly hadn’t been expecting as the force of it left them both in a tangled mess on the forest floor. Ada landing on top of him, as he let out a muffled grunt as he met the ground with his back. His arms wrapping around her middle and holding her in place, while hers found themselves round his neck, her fingers brushing through his hair.

“I love you.” She said breathlessly, her eyes never leaving his. She saw his throat quiver as he swallowed hard, his face softened as his calloused fingers caressed against her face. A gentle touch but one that still made her feel warm and giddy. He brushed her hair from her eyes, sweeping the brown locks behind her ear and smiled lovingly.

“I love you too.” He replied. The words said for the first time between them. He moved forward to kiss her, eyes sliding close, noses touching as they leaned closer.

“Oh come on guys!! Seriously?! Fucking gross!” Ellie bellowed, instantly killing the mood as Joel groaned letting his head fall back against the floor, his arms releasing Ada as she quickly scuffled from him and back to her feet. Hand reaching out to help Joel up.

Both adults stepped away from the other, attempting to put the distance between them as Ellie stared them down with a raised eyebrow.

“And on my fucking birthday, what are you trying to scar me for life or something?” She joked. But Ada and Joel were far too embarrassed to see the funny side. The girl continued with a deep chuckle, her tongue sticking out as she gagged and pulled faces at the whole thing.

“Oh man that image is gonna be stuck in my brain forever!” She groaned. “Get out! Get out” She whined tapping her head with her small fist as she squeezed her eyes closed. Turning on her heel and retreating back towards her tent.

Joel awkwardly cleared his throat when the girl had gone, looking anywhere and everywhere except towards Ada. The woman doing the same, her stomach fluttering and cheeks hot from endless blushing.

“Well that was uhhh...unexpected.” The man mumbled. Ada just laughed as she felt the tension melt away between them as Ellie shouted at the two to go to bed and jokingly threatened to ground them if they didn’t behave. Joel just shook his head at the girl and smiled at his love as they called it a night and headed towards their tent. Ellie watched them go and readied herself for first watch, taking the risk to glance through the tent door and seeing Joel and Ada had already fallen asleep. She'd never tell them but it was actually kinda cute when they cuddled up to each other. She was glad they were happy. It was nice.

Yeah Ellie thought to herself as she settled in for the night.

Best. Birthday. Ever.

#Joel Miller #joel the last of us #joel and ellie #joel miller x oc #the last of us part 2 #the last of us #Ellie Williams #fanfiction #starlesskies writes

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