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junosartsthetic · 3 years

Note

Hello :) For the yandere writing prompts: Might I get Roses with Shigaraki? Please and thank you <3

"Roses. They once brought great comfort. They still bring me roses but the light in their eyes is gone."

I always get carried away writing these, oops. Anyway here you go! Also this is a tattoo parlor/flower shop AU because of course it is.

Your new shop had only been open a day when you first noticed him. You were tending to your freshly cut roses, clipping the thorns carefully, when you heard the bell on the door jingle. You turned, looking to see who had entered. “Hello, welcome to Roses and Company!” you greeted, looking the newcomer over.

He donned a black hoodie, hood over his head and hands tucked into the pockets. You noted grey-blue hair poking out from the hood. His lips were rather chapped. He didn’t reply to your greeting.

You finished tending to the roses, placing them in a vase on a shelf before walking over to the stranger. “Can I help you find anything?”

He glanced over at you. You gave him a smile. He shrugged. “I work next door. I had nothing better to do so I wanted to check this place out.” You noted his gravelly voice. He sounded irritated. Maybe that was just his tone of speaking, you thought.

You remembered the tattoo parlor next door. “You’re a tattoo artist?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

He rolled up his hoodie sleeve, showcasing a large collection of tattoos. They ranged from morbid depictions of skulls to scrawlings of words. You thought they were pretty.

“Oh, sweet. I’ve never had a tattoo but I might have to get one now that you’re right next door!”

He gestured to the bouquet of roses you’d just shelved. “How much for those?”

You were only just now realizing you’d never put price tags on anything, assuming you’d have time later today. “Oh, umm…”

He suddenly spoke up. “A tattoo for the bouquet?”

You raised a brow. “Really?”

This day was turning interesting.

He nodded.

Why the hell not, you thought, trotting over to grab the vase before handing it over. “Alright. Deal.”

Next thing you knew you were sitting in a chair, the stranger sitting beside you as he sketched out a few ideas. They were all types of flowers. He was a very good artist, you noted.

“Hey,” you spoke up, causing him to hum. “I never got your name.”

“Tomura,” he mumbled, focusing on his sketches.

You smiled. “I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to meet you.”

You pointed at a sketch of a rose he had, noting it resembled the roses in the vase sitting in front of the paper. “You’re really amazing at art, Tomura. That looks incredible.”

His cheeks grew warm. “I’ve been doing this for a while. Anyway, is that the one you want?”

“It looks expensive, are you sure you want just that bouquet?”

He nodded. “It’s fine. I don’t care about money. I just enjoy the art.”

Within a few minutes, he had laid down the stencil for the tattoo, and you braced yourself for the inking needle.

“Relax,” he said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The sensation of the needle hitting your arm made you jump, but it wasn’t as bad as you imagined. Your eyes watered slightly as he continued his work.

It only took about an hour to complete, and you talked to him during this time, Tomura occasionally responding but mostly just listening.

He realized he really liked your voice. And your calm demeanor. He didn’t know why he suddenly made a deal with you, or why he insisted on giving you a free tattoo. He’d never done anything like this for anyone else. What made you special? He didn’t even really know you. It was odd. He’d have to discuss it with Kurogiri later.

“It’s done,” he spoke after some time, putting the ink needle down and cracking his wrists. He’d usually take a break during tattooing, but he decided to push onward for yours, strangely.

“It looks amazing,” you commented, gazing at your freshly inked arm. “Thank you, Tomura. And you were right, it didn’t really hurt.”

“You should probably get back to your store,” he noted. “Let me wrap it up and I’ll check on it tomorrow.”

You gave him a soft smile. “Sounds good!”

The next day, he showed up at your shop as promised, and you waved him over. “Hey, Tomura. Nice to see you again.”

You gestured to your new tattoo. “It seems to be doing good. I’ve been doing everything you’ve said to take care of it.”

He looked it over before his eyes roamed to your face. You were very pretty, he noticed. He liked the way you smiled at him. Nobody had smiled at him like that before. It made him feel nice.

“Oh, here,” you said, handing him a vase full of roses. “I decided that just one wasn’t enough in exchange for this tattoo, so I wanted to give you another bouquet.”

He stared at the red flowers, freshly plucked and trimmed. They looked perfect.

He took them wordlessly. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” he mumbled.

You waved him goodbye. “Alright!”

Day after day, he showed up, and day after day you gave him a bouquet of roses. He always accepted them, and you always looked forward to his visits.

Until one day, it all changed.

It had been a month since you’d opened up shop, and your tattoo had healed up nicely.

You were rather busy today, so when you didn’t see Tomura at all you brushed it off as just missing him when he walked in.

When 10 pm rolled around, you began to close up shop.

You were prepared to walk out, purse in hand, when you saw a figure outside. You quickly recognized him as Tomura.

“Oh, hey! I thought you had already stopped by and I just hadn’t noticed you! I’ve already stored all of the roses away for today but I’ll give you two bouquets tomorrow! Promise!”

Tomura waved it off. “No, I’m not here for that. I wanted to repay you for all of your kindness.”

You cocked your head. “Oh, I don’t need any payment or anything. You’ve been a dear to me!”

He held his hand out, grasping yours. “You don’t have to keep up your ruse. I’m not a likeable person. I know that. But still, you look at me with such kindness. And I can’t get you out of my head.”

You stared blankly. “What do you mean, Tomura? Are you confessing to me or something?” You laughed, meaning it as a joke, but the way his hand squeezed yours, you realized he was completely serious.

“Every waking moment I think of you. I still have all of your bouquets you know, I’ve taken such good care of them. They’re all alive and well. Let me take you to them. They’re just inside my shop.”

You gripped your purse nervously. What had gotten into him?

“Oh, I’m glad you like them. Flowers can be tricky to take care of. Especially roses. People don’t like their thorns.”

He began to tug on your hand, guiding you next door. “C’mon. I’ll show you.”

Despite the lurking feeling of dread, you followed him without question. You knew Tomura. He wouldn’t do anything weird to you. He was a friend.

He led you inside, walking towards a door in the back of the tattoo parlor. You noticed a large chain and a lock on the door. He used his free hand to unlock it, the key dangling on a necklace tucked into his hoodie.

He led you inside.

There, on the walls of the small closet, vases of roses lined the shelves. You noticed they were all pristine, as healthy as the day you handed them to Tomura.

“Wow,” you said, letting go of his hand to caress a rose. “They’re so vibrant. You’d make a good florist, Tomura. You’ve taken great care of these. It’s amazing. They all look really healthy.”

You heard shuffling behind you. You moved to turn around, but a cloth pressed against your face stopped you. An arm wrapped around your waist, locking you against a chest as a chemical entered your airways. You attempted to scream, but no luck. Petrified, you could only wiggle in his grasp as your body began to weaken.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N), but it’s for the best.”

When you awoke, you noticed you were still in the closet, though resting on a loveseat tucked into the corner. There was nobody with you. “Tomura!” you called, struggling to stand. You felt dizzy, and your legs wouldn’t move. “Hello!” you cried. You tried to wiggle your toes, but you couldn’t. What the hell was going on.

“Someone help me!”

The door unlocked, and in stepped Tomura. His hood was off. He’d never taken his hood off before. You looked into his eyes and saw blazing madness. He scratched his neck violently, smiling widely. “Oh good, you’re awake! I thought I’d knocked you out for good! That would have been awful!”

You recoiled in the chair, uselessly attempting to move your legs and escape.

“Sorry, little rose, but I had to. I couldn’t have you leaving me!”

Your eyes widened, terrified. What had he done to your legs; why couldn’t you feel them.

“Tomura, stop it. You’re acting crazy,” you cried, tears pricking your eyes. “Let me go!”

He shook his head. “I can’t. You don’t understand. I can’t! I can’t! I can’t! I can’t! I can never let you leave me!”

You began to shake, sobbing.

He stepped towards you. “Don’t cry. I’ll take good care of you. You’re the most important of my flowers, don’t you see? You were giving me all of these roses, when you were the only rose I needed!

You cast your gaze to your tattoo as a new wave of tears struck you.

He said nothing else, only turning on his heels and walking out of the closet. The door closed, and you heard the chain clanking as the lock clicked.

You were trapped here. With no ability to walk. And no way out.

As Tomura locked you in the small room, his mind was racing. He’d done it. He’d finally gotten you all to himself. His heart beat rapidly, and he clenched his hands tightly. He was euphoric. And yet, that look in your eyes hit a soft spot in him. Was this the right thing to do? He shook this feeling aside. Of course it was. There was no other way. He had to have you. He had to protect you. He had to keep you healthy, just like the other roses...

Some time had passed, weeks maybe, you’d lost track, and you grew quiet and lethargic. You wouldn’t speak. You wouldn’t look at him. You wouldn’t even acknowledge his presence.

Still, he’d give you food and water. He helped you clean, giving you baths in the tub above the parlor. He even carried you up the stairs, being that your legs were now permanently paralyzed.

Every few days, after the parlor had closed, he’d carry you to a seat, giving you a new tattoo. It was always a rose.

Roses. They once brought great comfort to you. You used to love them. You would love giving Tomura a bouquet each day he visited. Technically, you were still bringing him roses, only he inked them onto your skin. You became his bouquet.

“You still bring me roses,” Tomura muttered quietly, buzzing the flower into your reddened skin, “but the light in your eyes is gone.”

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edda-grenade · 3 years

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Sleep.

Adaar and Solas attempt fadewalking for the first time.

#feral verse, 2000 words. on AO3.

They were lying on a hilltop in the forest, on a fur to keep the cold of fall at bay. Well, Adaar was lying down—Solas had sat up to give her a curious look.

“You wish to leave?”

“No! I mean, yes, kinda—maybe—I don’t know.” She groaned and covered her face with her hands.

“You seem very happy, here,” he said, in that slow, careful way he had.

“I am! I am. I don’t want to leave my family, or this place, or you—”

“Me?” His voice cracked, just a little. Adaar glanced at him from between her fingers.

“Yes, obviously. I know you like to pretend you’re some lone wolf apart from all living creatures or whatever, but you’re my friend, alright? You’re not getting out of that so easily.”

“I don’t—pretend…” He sighed, his skin staining with blush, the faint freckles even fainter. His lips twitched like he was trying not to smile, until he gave up and his mouth crooked. Adaar loved it when that happened. She was pretty good at making it happen, too.

“You do not wish to leave, but?”

Now she sighed and clamped her hand over her eyes again. It was easier in the dark, unwatched.

“The world is so big and so full of things I don’t know,” she said softly, “and I want to learn everything.”

“Adaar…”

She hadn’t figured out if she loved that yet—the way he said her name sometimes, how he looked at her. Like she was the sun coming over the horizon, or a thunderstorm in the distance, or the wind dancing through the fields so hard it sang. At least that’s what she imagined the expression would look like on her face—an expression that was meant for immense and somewhat unfathomable things, not for a single person.

“There is a way I could show those things to you. Not all of them, of course—but more than what is accessible to you right now.”

Adaar sat up so quickly her head spun a little.

“I’m listening.”

He explained, and her head continued to spin, although for different reasons. Lucid dreaming, delving into the Fade like into a cave, how the deeper you went the older the memories imprinted upon the Fade would be…

It sounded ludicrous. Like magic, if she had never heard of it before. It sounded amazing.

“Can we just do that?” she asked. “Right now?”

Solas gave her another weird look; his eyes wide and searching for a brief moment.

“I—yes. Come with me.”

They left the little barren hilltop that poked above the forest behind and instead descended into the small cave Solas had chosen as his resting place. She’d tried often to convince him to join her family at the settlement, but he’d steadfastly refused every time. It didn’t bother her as much anymore—the cave looked more and more like an actual home these days, with a fire pit and cooking tools, shelves he’d carved out of the rock to hold utensils using a spell she hadn’t quite figured out yet herself, and a warm, dry place to sleep.

Solas had a ball of light bobbing in the air above his shoulder, and gazed down at the bedstead. It was cozy: a pallet of hay covered in cowhide, with a blanket and fur to keep warm in winter. It was also not nearly big enough for both of them. At least not if they intended not to share breathing space.

“There’s a bigger bed at home, you know,” Adaar said. “Actual walls and a door, too.”

“I would prefer to try it here. I have set the requisite wards quite often, and I’m familiar with the peculiarities of the Fade in this place.”

She shrugged, glancing around at the runes and sigils he had marked into the walls of the cave. “Yeah, makes sense. I’m just saying, you can get familiar with the farm, too. There’s space for you, it’s not a problem.”

“I’m aware, since you keep reminding me so diligently.”

“It keeps being true.”

She smiled a little at how that statement made his ears dip and his head turn away so she wouldn’t see his face. He cleared his throat.

“I have never… attempted to teach this to anyone else.”

“Because you didn’t want to, or because there was no one you could teach it to?” She hesitated, thinking of his arguments with Lavellan's Keeper. “Or because no one wanted to learn it?”

He let out a low breath. “All of the above,” he replied quietly, “at one point or another.”

Adaar slapped her hands together to resist the urge to hug him, then clapped her palms briefly onto his shoulders because not touching him at all was even more frustrating than being shrugged off. “First time for everything. How do we start?”

Solas showed her how to set the wards—they’d talked about spellwork like it before, but mostly in abstract terms. It took a good while, because she kept stumbling over new questions, like how specific a ward could be, how permanent, how big a space it could cover… They were halfway into designing one that might be used to keep beetles out of the grain, until they managed to get back to the task at hand.

She settled on the bedstead with crossed legs while Solas puttered about by the fire pit and brewed a concoction he insisted wasn’t tea to help them fall asleep. Then she got up again and started pacing, as much as was possible, because her legs were too jittery to sit still. She was just glad most of the cave was high enough that she didn’t have to stoop—she halted, gazing at the stone close above her.

“Solas, did you shape the ceiling, too?”

“What do you mean?”

“The rock here has a different texture.” She reached up to touch it and closed her eyes, searching for that low echo of past magic—and found it. “And it’s been worked with magic.”

“…A little. It is not your fault you are so tall.”

A smile bit into her cheeks. “Aw, that’s sweet.”

“It was a practical consideration,” he muttered, but he didn’t sound like he was actually put out. “You insert yourself into others’ spaces inevitably, it was only a matter of time until you would find your way into this one.”

“That almost sounds like a criticism.”

“An observation. Foremost.” He handed a steaming cup of the not-tea to her, then sipped from his own. She breathed in the smell—chamomile, juniper, and something spicy she didn’t recognize—then exhaled a bit of frost across it to cool it down before taking a sip.

Solas was watching her when she looked up from the cup.

“Something wrong?”

“No, it is simply… nice, to see how certain magic has become easier for you.”

“The frost? Yeah, I barely have to think about it anymore.” She blew a puff of snow into his face to demonstrate. Solas startled, grimacing, and wiped the rapidly-melting crystals from his cheeks.

“Sorry,” Adaar said, very earnestly. “Couldn’t resist.”

He shook his head and grumbled something in Elvish, but he was smiling again. That small, helpless, trying-not-to smile. They finished their cups, put them aside, and regarded the bedstead again.

“I shall take the fur, next to the pallet,” said Solas.

“I thought the point was to fall asleep more easily? And to sleep more deeply?”

“Yes.”

“Then why make it harder on yourself? We just gotta… scrunch up a little, it’s gonna be fine.”

There was a long silence.

“I am not used to sleeping among other people,” Solas said finally, his tone even. He wasn’t used to other people—flesh-and-blood people, that was—in general, Adaar suspected, but she kept it to herself. Right now was probably a bad time to bring that one up.

“Alright, no spooning then,” she said instead and sat down and stretched out along one side of the bedding. Then she remembered she had to get rid of her shoes, untied them, and hucked them against an empty wall. Lying down, the scent of lavender became obvious amid the hay and fur; sprigs had been stuck to the corners to keep bugs away. She’d told him about that trick months ago.

It really was cozy; warm and inviting. She curled onto her side, drawing her feet up, and patted the mattress next to her. Slowly, Solas joined her, folding himself up so he took up even less space than usual. It was still a tight fit, especially since he tried to avoid any real contact beyond the brush of fabric.

“I will attempt to find you once we are dreaming,” he said. “With our current physical proximity it should be an easier task.”

“There’s really nothing else to it? We just fall asleep?”

“It is… difficult to put into words. Question your dreams, if you can. The key is to become aware—awareness begets agency, which in turn begets control.”

Adaar tugged the fur and blanket up to cover them. “Alright. Sleep well?” There was a flash of a smile on Solas’s face before he closed his eyes.

“I shall see you soon.”

It was not soon. Adaar’s mind refused to quiet, anticipation thrumming in her limbs. She kept shifting, unable to relax, and she worried she’d spend the entire night sleepless, when she finally woke up again to a dark, quiet cave.

She must have fallen asleep at some point, then? So was this the Fade? It didn’t feel different. She was sleepy and bleary-eyed just as she would be when waking up in the middle of the night, and a cursory examination of the cave with a bit of conjured light—a spell that behaved no differently than any previous time she’d used it—told her it looked exactly as it had when they had bedded down. Except…

Solas lay tucked against her front, his body warm, his breathing even. His temple rested against her collarbones and his folded legs leaned against her hips. He was curled up as he’d been before, but now it seemed less about making himself smaller, and more about fitting into the curve of her body.

Adaar stared into the darkness. That was… unexpected. Solas didn’t seek out physical contact. Sure, he usually melted into it for one or two seconds when it was offered before pulling away, but nothing like this.

Cautiously, she tried to brace herself on her elbow to get a better look, both at the cave and at him. She bit down on a sharp inhale when pins and needles erupted in the limb, breathing through it with care until the sensation passed. But even on a thorough second look, nothing changed. The cave was still the cave, nothing remotely immaterial about it, and Solas still slept soundly, curled up against her.

Part of her wanted to wake him up. Let him know it hadn’t worked, at least not yet, and try to figure out what might be changed, because merely the thought of consciously walking in the Fade was enough to make her heart beat faster.

But he looked so much younger in his sleep. His features softened and relaxed, like he might actually be at peace. Adaar wasn’t sure she had ever managed to catch him this unguarded. When they were together, it felt like he hardly stopped watching her.

She let out a small sigh and settled back down, gently wrapping one arm around his waist. Hopefully that wouldn’t upset him, if he woke up before her come morning. Right now at least, a soft, sleepy noise slipped from him, and he rolled even more thoroughly into her embrace.

#don't worry solas is gonna get slammed with the pining soon enough #feral verse #adaar #solas #saar gets her own tag #inquisitor x solas #soladaar #time for those tags to make a regular appearance in this verse :3c #art tag #fanart #fic tag #fic related #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #da:i

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dancingthesambaa · 3 years

Text

The Smell of Plum Blossom Tea Ch 16

Summary: Just like a butterfly wing, a single act of kindness can change the course of the future, it certainly did for MK as a black furred monkey put out a hand towards him.

Rating: Teen and up

Chapter 16: The Ex From Down Under

“Bye dad! I’m heading out!” MK called as he rushed to the table and quickly stuffed his bag with all his stuff that was lying around.

“See ya,” he poked his head out of the kitchen. “If you're coming back again, I’m making some Mapo Tofu for dinner tonight if you want to stop by.”

“The mouth searing one,” he questionly asked as he continued packing without even looking at what he was putting in.

“I’ll have a milder one on the side,” he chuckled as he watched his child's fist pump the air.

“I will totally be here.”

“Alrighty, and you can ask Wukong if he wants to come,” he nonchalantly said as he wiped his hands on his apron. He then noticed MK staring at him and he raised his eyebrow, “What? By the gods know when that dumbass ever had a good meal that wasn’t from his own hair.”

“Uh huh,” was all he said as he tightened his bag then he gave him a wide grin. “Well I’m off,” he ran up to his dad and gave him a big hug before leaping out of the window free falling before stepping on a branch and hopping from tree to tree.

“…I may have enabled his window hopping habits,” he mused to himself before shrugging his shoulders and walking off.

“Remember, don’t let your body tighten so much when you get into the swing, ease up before snapping, giving you more momentum,” Monkey King lectured as he demonstrated with a staff. It was always a bit of a struggle to teach his student new techniques when he already had a style in place. Macaque always leaned more towards the silent route with swift strikes and keeping the body low, while he kept more towards the louder method of quick feet and aiming high. Each monkey had incorporated their style to fit themselves and they have taught their own moves to the other just to get more variety and not to be so predictable. Once he had learned that Macaque had taught MK his own fighting style, it was much easier to incorporate his own style into his as well.

MK focuses as he did exactly that as he jumped up in the air and landed a hit on the training dummy high in the sky. “Yes!” He fistbumped the air, it had taken so long to actually complete that move, but he has finally done it!

“Nicely done kiddo,” he grinned and ruffled his hair. “Now how about we take a small break.”

“Sounds good to me!” He stretched out his limbs as he made his way to his bag. He paused as he quickly caught the water bottle thrown at his head, “Thanks!”

“No problem,” the monkey said as he sat down next to him. “So how has everything been? I heard you got into a gang turf war the other day.”

“By the gods,” MK groaned, “that had to be the stupidest fight I have ever seen and I’m friends with Mei! So here I am minding my own business and delivering some noodles to this random dude when all of a sudden gunshots ring out and the man begins to rave like an absolute lunatic.”

As Wukong listened to the story he couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering over to MK messy hair as he instinctively scooted over next to him and began to smooth out his hair.

“-then the leader on the opposing side decides to step in cause why not?! And declares that-,” he paused as he finally felt his mentor grooming his hair after he was ranting for ten minutes. “Uhhh?”

“Go on, I’m still listening,” he said as he continued to thread his fingers in his hair.

The teenager only blinked once before going with it, “And do you know what he declares? He declares that the bowl of noodles is actually for him and guess what?! Now we have both sides gearing up for a fight over a goddamn bowl of noodles!”

“Don’t swear,” he murmured then let out a soft purr as he untangled a particular spot.

“Dad says it’s fine as long as I don’t do it in front of kids.”

“…yeah that seems pretty like him.”

“Speaking of him, you're invited to dinner tonight if you want to come,” he said.

“Yes!” MK blinked at the immediate response, but then the Monkey King quickly settled down and casually said, “Yeah, that would be fine.”

“Coolio, I’ll text him,” he waited for him to release his hair before he got up, but it didn’t seem like it hit the monkey until he saw MK eyes staring at him.

“Oh right, I should probably let go,” he gave a forced chuckle.

“Don’t worry Dad is a lot worse,” he reassured him as he made his way to his bag, “he sometimes would take hours on grooming and wouldn’t release me until he had deemed it worthy.”

“Sounds nice,” the Sage muttered.

“To you, but I was so bored sometimes that I would fall asleep just to pass the time,” he said as he was about to grab his phone when he noticed a paper. “What is this?” He took it out and saw that it was a letter, but it wasn’t addressed to him, but rather all it said on the envelope was the phrase ‘My Love.’ “Well this is weird?”

“There’s a lot of things that are weird bud, but I think you need to be a little more specific,” he smiled at his student's confused look.

“Well I have a letter that I’m pretty sure isn’t mine,” he held out the mail.

“It looks like someone has an admirer,” he teased seeing the words.

“Noooo,” he softly whispered. He already had his experience with one crazy fangirl and it took both Mei and Red Son threatening the living hell out of her before she finally backed off. He really doesn’t want anything to do with that anytime soon. “It’s not for me.”

“Well open it and see whose it is for then.”

“Isn’t that like an invasion of property and technically a crime?”

“How else are you gonna know whose it for then?”

“…touché,” so he did exactly that and carefully opened the envelope and took out the paper that was just full of writing. He felt his stomach drop as he saw who it was for on the first line. “To my dear Macaque.”

“What,” Wukong's tone was dead flat as he processed what MK just said.

MK said nothing as he continued to read and the more he read the creepier it got.

To My Dear Macaque,

It’s been so long since I have seen you, I hope you have been receiving each and every one of my letters. If not, that’s okay. I'll keep saying this as many times as needed.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

I will forever say this even when you don’t believe out of connection anymore, for you have stolen my heart and doused it with the most burning of acids that the two of us have created. It burns like the hellfire consuming my soul, it stings like the little needles digging through each and every last one of my smallest injuries and gently tearing it apart. It hurts and it hurts and it hurts and you hurt me. You hurt me and left me to my despair after I have given all of my love to you and only to you. You left and walked away after denouncing our burning heart we made together.

You left it there and it’s still burning.

But I forgive you.

I forgive all that you had done to me because I know that deep down you still feel the same. But don’t worry, once I see you again I’ll show you that the two of us were meant to last far longer than even the stars. I’ll show you that we are meant to be together even if I have to drag you away by force and give you my medicine to show you that all we need is each other. You have tasted the sweet elixir before and you were more than agreeable once the potion had set in and shown my love for you.

But I’m sure it won’t have to come to that.

We will meet soon my love, until then, please take care.

From your heart, Shun

“Who the f- who is Shun,” the monkey let out a low growl as he finished reading the creepy ass letter. “And why does he know moonlight? And what is with the creepy letter?!”

“That’s Dad's creepy ex boyfriend!” He said in a panic as he began to pace around.

“His WHAT?!” He couldn’t stop the small burst of energy erupting from out of him as his eyes glowed a dark gold and the ground slightly cracked beneath his feet.

“This is bad. This is bad. This is so so so so BAD!” MK began to panic as he kept pacing around the area and gripping his hair. “So very bad! How long has this been happening? How long since he has been receiving his creepy letters?! It’s also ready bad enough he mentioned the potion, but now he’s implying he’s coming here?!”

“Kid, kid,” Wukong managed to wrangle down his enraged emotions (hello jealously how have you been) and moved towards his kid in an effort to calm him down. “MK, it’s okay, everything will be okay,” he said as he gently pried the stubborn fingers from his hair. “I’m sure he will be fine, this is Macaque we’re talking about here, and sure that no potion he could dish up could stop-”

“It’s a love potion,” he blurted out.

“That devil concoction,” he hissed out. But took a deep breath in and reluctantly pushed the rebranded slave poison to the side of his mind…for now. “Like I said, I’m sure he will be just fine.”

“Maybe I’m freaking out. I mean he’s probably not even here or anywhere near here. Maybe dad even told him off and he’s probably not even coming. Maybe I’m just blowing this whole thing out of proportion,” MK tried to reason out.

“There we go, now breathe with me.”

“I will I will…right after I call dad!” He immediately shot towards his phone and dumped almost everything before he found it. He quickly called his Dad's number and waited for the call to go through.

BZZZZ

‘I’m not in right now, if you're calling for medical treatment or prescriptions then leave a voicemail. If you're anyone else, why? Just why?’

Beep

“He’s not answering! Time to panic!!”

The figure had just made it to the edge of the Plum Blossom Forest and out in the distance, he saw the tallest Plum tree he recognized.

“It’s been so long my love,” he lovingly whispered as he gave a few licks to his arm before quickly moving through the trees.

Happily ignoring the hisses and snarls close behind him as they all were not happy at the intruder.

Inside said home, a certain monkey's whole body twitched as he slammed his items in hand and began to match to the door.

“Fuck me, I thought his creepy ass wouldn’t be anywhere near here until next week, at least then MK would be back at Pigsy shop,” he hissed as he materialized a two sharp bladed tonfas in hand. “I had no appointments, all my stocks are good, all I literally wanted to do today was to make food, drink some tea, and enjoy a family dinner with Sunshine included but I guess not the fuck today! I guess it’s a good fucking thing I have the perfect target to direct my anger I suppose.”

He gave out another snarl that was amongst the long line to come as he dipped into the shadows once more and took off towards the intruder that every creature in the forest, whether it be animal, demon, or creature alike, no one liked the intruder roaming in their home.

He quickly ventured through the shadows, roaming from plant to tree, animal to grass, until he finally saw a ring tailed lemur with a soft smile upon his face as he paused and his eyes lit up

“It’s been so long my love,” he cooed as he tried to find the humming presence. He didn’t have time to dodge the blow coming from the front as blades sliced into him, but his smile didn’t falter as he took in the sight of his beloved. “You're still as beautiful as ever”

“And you're still as creepy as ever,” he snarled as let his tonfas glow brighter. “I thought I told you to fuck off and away.”

“It was a mere trifle the both of us had, words were said, but I forgive you,” he gently smiled.

“Ughh I really hate when you do that,” he grimaced at his former horrible choice of a partner. “I will give you one fucking chance, leave before I show you once more why you should have stayed gone.”

“I’m sorry, but I will show you with all of my heart and being just how much you truly need me,” Shun only needed to drag a foot back in preparations as a sense of eagerness thrummed deep within him. It’s been so long since he had physics contact with his love after all.

Macaque forced down the shudder as he once again disappeared into the shadows as soon as he sent some clones towards him to attack.

Some creatures of the forest were spectating as this whole fight went down, eager to watch the intruder fall, maybe if the Guardian is generous enough he’ll allow them to feast on what remains.

The forest was about to become a little more wild when first blood was spilled.

“What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?!” MK was clutching his phone as he attempted to call his Dad a few more times, but his heart picked up each time he didn’t answer.

“Kid,” he attempted to once more calm him down when he shot up.

“Yanyu! I should call Yanyu!” He quickly dialed her number and his legs began to shake in anticipation as the number rang.

BZZZ

BZZZ-

“What’s up short-”

“EMERGENCY!” He shouted out.

“GHA! What do you-”

“Big problem! Huge problem! So I was packing my bag cause I was in a rush to get to training and I was talking to Dad so I didn’t notice what I put in my bag. So I went for trainingandwhenbreakdtstartedIfounditinmybagandIcantbelievr-”

‘MK BREATHE’ it wasn’t just the bluenette, but two other voices that joined her.

“Mei, Red, what are you guys doing with Yan?” He questioned for a moment before shaking his head, “Wait, not important, there is a big problem!”

‘Well spit it out then,’ Red huffed.

‘I think he’s trying,’ he could hear Mei's amused voice in the background.

‘Both of you hush,’ Yanyu turned back to the phone, ‘Now what’s happening?’

“Shun contacted Dad. He's almost here and Dad won’t pick up his phone!”

‘WHAT!!!’ They all screamed with both Red and Yanyu being significantly higher as the adult continued, ‘What do you mean creepy fucker is coming?!’

“Fuck Fuck Fuck this is bad!’ He could hear the prince in the background slowly freaking out. ‘I thought his crazy ass wouldn’t come back!’

“Apparently he did!’ Mei yelled out.

“I don’t know!” MK hysterically said as he began to almost hyperventilate, but the Monkey King began to run his back.

“Okay everyone breathe,” he firmly told the centuries younger children on call. “You are forgetting, this is Macaque you’re talking about here, I’m sure he will be fine.”

“The Monkey King is listening to this?!” Red hissed as he accidentally showed weakness to one of his greatest enemies.

“I know he will kick his scrawny ass, but that doesn’t alleviate my fear of him getting poisoned again and being put under an eternal sleep to be used as a god damn porcelain doll again!” Yanyu shouted, bypassing the fact that she was talking to the Monkey King.

“Again!” Everyone bar Red shouted together.

‘Yeah! And you thought the love poison was bad, this is just fucked up! Now do you see why I’m freaking out!’

“Why do you think we don’t want uncle anywhere near him!” The Bull prince continued.

“Okay that’s it,” Wukong summoned his cloud, “Hop on, we’re heading over there. Even if he’s not there, it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“Thank you!” He leaped onto the cloud.

‘We'll meet up with you as fast as we can on Mei ride,’ Yanyu said with a rush to her voice as the trio quickly went to the motorbike which thankfully has a side seat.

“Okay,” MK muttered as he held onto the fluffy cloud.

‘Oh and Monkey King.’

“Yes?”

‘You better not fuck it up,’ she said with an ominous grin in her voice as she sat in the sidecar and Red held onto Mei as she quickly revved up her engines.

“…I’ve been hearing a lot of those lately.”

‘Good! See you real soon,’ she finished as he heard the motorcycle take off and the call ended.

“I guess we will,” he said to himself as they took off for the Plum Blossom Forest.

“I really hope Dad is okay,” MK muttered as he gripped tighter.

“He will be,” he firmly stated. ‘You better be okay mango,’ he privately thought. ‘Else I don’t think your kid would take it….fuck your better be alright else I will be kicking your ex boyfriend ass and making sure he knows the meaning of pain.’ He silently hissed out in his mind as he got the cloud to love even faster as it soared over the ocean.

“What is up with the forest right now,” Mei growled out as the group sprinted through the trees with Yanyu leading them.

“I don’t know, it has never done this before,” MK confusingly shouted out as they ran through. For some reason, when the two were about to go over the forest, the cloud suddenly dropped until it was underneath the treetops, making it near impossible to travel by cloud. Luckily they spotted the others a little ways behind them and grouped up together.

“It’s part of Mac magic,” the bluenette said as she paused at one tree before darting to the left.

“What do you mean?” Monkey King asked as he tried to locate Macaque's aura using his golden eyes, but all it showed was the entire area covered with a faint pulse of violet energy.

“So you know how he planted basically all the trees in the forest right,” she got affirmations from them as they continued. “Well in the process he put his own energy into the plants, because apparently he wanted to make sure they grew up okay. Thus making this whole forest basically under his control.”

“So that's why it felt familiar,” the Monkey muttered as he remembered back to the first time he saw the forest. “It also makes sense why my true sight isn’t working.

“That would be more awesome if we weren’t currently lost in this!” Mei said.

“I know the way, he showed me after the last time Shun showed up. This forest was on a complete lockdown and nothing was recognizable like now,” she emphasized the land around them. While it seemed that nothing at first glance changed at first, if you really looked then they would notice that each tree looked almost identical to each other. No distinguishing marks, no distorted branches, not even the groves held any difference.

Each and every tree that they saw were the exact same.

“Okay that is disturbing,” Red muttered.

“Like I said, his little magic is intertwined with the forest and even with some of the creatures living here. It was supposed to be made for protection for not only the creatures living here and to anyone who may accidentally wander in, but to keep out the intruder that seeks to harm. He taught me to seek out the odd spots and openings left open in case something like this happened again. Though I don’t think he literally meant this exact scenario,” she grumbled. “He’ll probably teach you guys this after this whole thing is over.”

“We’re getting closer,” Wukong stated.

“What makes you say that,” MK asked without taking his eyes off Yanyu's back.

“The animals running,” he pointed out several animals, birds, monkeys, and insects alike, all fleeing from the same direction.

“We’re getting close,” she said as they continued to run.

It was only twenty minutes later did Red speak as he tried to look ahead, “I’m not the only one who can hear the sounds of growls right?”

Everyone nodded their ahead and just up ahead they saw a rather large crowd of mythical beings, spirits, and demons alike all grouped together and waiting as they kept their eyes firmly on what’s ahead. They follow their gaze and can faintly see, just between gaps a bright violet glow followed by a form of black mass.

It was Macaque.

“Dad/Pops!” Mei and MK yelled out for him, but he didn’t react to them as he pushed back against something else.

Monkey King wasted no time in climbing up one of the trees to get a better view with MK and everyone else quickly following him. There they witness Macaque fighting against an agile lemur who seemed to be trying to throw himself at the monkey, but he keeps dodging out of the way in time.

“Fuck it is Shun,” Yanyu groaned as Red let out a soft “noooo.”

“So how do we go about this,” Mei questioned as she fingered her sword while she watched her pops dive back into the shadows only to get pulled right back out, “cause I say we go in swingin.”

“We will not be doing any of that,” Red hissed as he grabbed hold of Mei's collar, “We have to play this smart, while Shun is a certified psychopath, he is a very smart psychopath.”

“No kidding, it’s how the two of them got together in the first place,” the doctor muttered and smirked as she saw her former teacher trip up the lemur and slammed him to the ground, but that didn’t stop her from noticing a certain brown furred monkey twitch as she mentioned that.

“Okay, we are getting a full explanation on how even when this is all said and done,” Mei grumbled and settled back down on the branch. “So what do we do?”

“We just have to wait and see what happens,” the bluenette got comfortable, “I doubt he’ll need our help, but I rather not take chances.”

“Nice plan, nice plan, just one flaw with that,” both demon and human glanced at Mei. “Two certain monkeys didn’t get that memo.”

Both of them blinked, then dropped their heads and sighed.

“Of course they would, cause why not,” Yanyu uttered as she turned her attention back to the fight. At least she won’t have to worry too much about stepping in, not that she thinks she could stand a chance, with both Monkey King and Doc's son charging in.

“You know it would be so much easier for you if you just fuck off you know,” Macaque mocked as he flicked off the blood from his blades. “Maybe you’ll still have a working arm if you run fast enough.”

“Aww you worry my dear-,” he smiled as he didn’t even flinch at the blood dripping down his arm.

“Not in the slightest.”

“Don’t fret, it will soon be over, but I will admit that I am getting a bit agitated,” his voice echoed out, which didn’t seem to do much at first as many spectators cackled at his attempted intimidation.

But then a weird smell filled the air, it seemed to have always been there as they hadn't taken notice of it before, but it got stronger as it smelt remarkably of a flower. They couldn’t quite put what kind of flower it was before-

EYES EYES EYES SO MANY EYES

EVERYWHERE

NOWHERE

CANT HIDE

NOT FROM IT

WHAT IS IT

WHAT IS PREDATOR

WHAT IS PREY

WHO IS WHO

WHERE ARE WE

WHERE ARE WE RUNNING

WHERE WHERE

Many creatures fell victim to this as they froze in place and whimpered out as they barked their necks in hopes to quell the predator or maybe grant them a quick death.

It was imposing.

It was encompassing

It was frightening.

And this only made Macaque still for a moment of the sudden smell before he got his bearings back, but that was all Shun needed as he leaped towards him with arms and mouth open wide.

Here’s a fun fact that not many know about lemurs, while they are known for being quick on their feet and agile to escape predators, there is one species who have, through a long process of evolution, developed another way of warding off predators or capturing their prey.

It was a toxic bite.

Apparently a certain species called slow lorises poison is so deadly that it can kill humans with a single bite and guess which lemur has that lucky parent.

‘Finally,’ he thought to himself as he closed the distance between him and his love. ‘I have finally got you back with me. Don’t worry, with my new potion I’ll make sure this time we won’t part,’ he lovingly thought as he tasted the special mixture in his mouth. He should really send his carrier a fruit basket when his love is properly back with him, she was the one who taught him everything he needed to know about potion making. Without her expertise, then he would have never known how to make the love potion, after all that was how she managed to snag his sire to mate with her.

Everything would finally be perfect…except for one little detail.

Not every creature was affected by the smell.

Ní merely flicked her tails in annoyance as she calmly watched.

Shui Gui took a huge breath of the smell in and puffed it out after a few seconds to reveal a green miasma cloud.

Xianglu merely shook their heads as they tried to rid of the foul smell in their nose.

BaBa just hissed at the inferior attack before nestling down.

Even the Faeries were tittering away at the pathetic illusion the demon tried to submerge them in.

These creatures, deities, demons, are just some of the few with a long history backed by so much experience that the infant lemur cannot comprehend. It was quite amusing to think that such a being could even equate to their level, even their Guardian was merely humoring him, but quite funny nonetheless. Regardless though Shun did possess the quality to allude himself to being much scarier to those around him with his…disturbing methods that he tends to use and hides himself behind his illusion. Unfortunately for him, it’s quite easy to bypass with multiple tools in hand, either physically and mentally. But more often than not, there is one sure fire method that most people tend to turn to if they don’t know which is correct.

Determination.

Which embodied a young adult as he bashed his staff against the lemur head, and a Sage monkey who punched him so hard that he left a crater when he finally landed.

Both beings were very determined to at least brutally maim the creep by the time they were finished with him.

“DON’T TOUCH MY DAD!/MOON!” Both MK and Wukong respectively shouted as they stood in front of a sighing Macaque.

“You know I had this handled right?” He looked towards the both of them, not bothering them with the possessive form both monkeys said. Though the same couldn’t be said for Shun as he was still in his spot and didn’t know who to first turn his attention to until his eye settled on MK.

“You have a child,” he said wonder in his voice as his whole face lit up.

“I’m not liking that look,” MK muttered to Wukong who nodded.

“No, no, please don’t say-” Macaque practically begged him not to say what he was about to dread.

“We have a child.”

“Nooooo,” he whispered out as he wished he could just knock himself out after hearing those words then shook it off and said with a growl. “Not your child, my child. You are not part of this equation, you're not even a variable that was left out, you are nowhere near part of any of this.”

“But my love-”

“Not my/his love,” all three monkeys stated.

“Despite our brief separation, you know it has always been a dream of mine to have a child of our own. Remember the time we spent out in the town as we laid our eyes at a beautiful family,” he almost cooed at the child's awkward face. “Two parents and two children, a boy and a girl, they looked very lovely together.”

Macaque did remember what he was talking about, he remembered his eyes lingering on the family as they were in town on a date. He couldn’t stop his eyes from lingering on them as he let a small smile play on his lips as Shun shared that same sentiment and wrapped his arms tighter around him. It used to be comforting, that small embrace used to mean ‘he is here for him, he won’t let you go’, but now all it means now is ‘he will not let you go, no matter how much you beg.’ It has turned so very confining. But he kept his mouth shut and let his former boyfriend ramble, trying to look for another way not to get bitten from his ‘love bite.’

“It was pure bliss just the two of us, those small moments we shared to the nights laid up in our nest as you laid under me as I enraptured your mouth and slowly move-.”

‘Never mind!’ He quickly burst forward and sent a high knee to the underside of his jaw that was followed by a staff to the side of the neck and a claw to the stomach courtesy of both child and friend. ‘He is not about to go there!’

“I do not want to hear any of that!” MK shouted as he backed away from the lemur after his attack.

“That makes two of us,” Wukong lowly growled as only his self control was the only thing stopping him from ripping the bastard in front of him. And even that was by the hair as he learned that new little tidbit that he did not want to hear.

“I have been a bit curious,” Shun simply stood back up and looked towards the Monkey King, “Who are you to him?”

“I am the Monkey King, you may have heard of me,” he said as he stood up straight as his golden eyes flickered in his eyes.

“How quaint,” he merely said, “but you didn’t answer my question,” a tinge of aggression laced his voice. “Who are you to him?”

Now at this point Wukong self control was almost completely gone since the first time he heard about this creepy ass bastard (which he so needs to interrogate Mac on why the fuck he would even date someone like him) and it was not looking so good. So to hear this black and white knockoff of a two legged beetle that deserves its tongue to be torn out, implies that he was the outsider in all of this rather than the other way around. Well, he decided right then and there that this nasty little bug needed to learn a few things first before he became a rotting corpse for the rest to feast upon.

“Wukong don’t you dare,” Macaque saw that look in his eyes.

“I was his friend long before you ever thought of,” he taunted and wrapped his arm around Mac's shoulder. “I have known him longer than even the mountains have formed and before towns became cities. He knows me longer than some of the forest was ever formed and before kingdoms have reached their destruction. We know each other very thoroughly, both inside and out, and seen the other at our best of times and our worst of times. It feels like eons have passed since then, but when it comes down to it you can say the two of us are made up of the same soul.” He finished his dramatic speech with a nuzzle to his black fur as he gave a soft kiss on his head. He opened one golden eye and grinned mockingly as he said, “So how long have you known him?”

Silence filled the air as they all locked eyes on a stiff Shun who didn’t even move an inch since Wukong started it. But what they could see was the underlying darkness in his eyes as he slowly blinked. Then he smiled, teeth bared and all, as he stated. “It will be a great joy when I tear out your throat and rip that nasty little tongue right out of your mouth and force you to watch as I consume it.”

“Try me,” he said with teeth bared.

Both Lemur and Monkey locked eyes with each other as you can almost see lighting shoot out of their eyes from the sheer animosity the two had with each other despite not even knowing the other for ten minutes.

The black furred monkey muttered, “And they said I’m the dramatic one,” to whom he was referring. It may never be known as Wukong and Shun leaped at each other at the same time. Macaque just groaned and decided to walk over to his son instead of the fight that was happening. “So, you met Shun.”

“I hate him,” MK instantly said as he got closer to his Dad. “I really hate him.”

“You and me both starlight, so why are you here anyways? Aren’t you supposed to be training right now?”

“So this morning I may have accidentally grabbed the letter while I was stuffing everything into my bag,” he said as he cheered when his mentor used his tail to choke the lemur while he had his arms pinned.

“Damn it, I thought I trashed them all. Must have been one that just came in,” he grimaced.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you?”

“That your creepy ex was back,” MK said with a twinge of irritation in his voice. “I could have helped.”

“Nice thought comet, but I had it handled,” he smirked as he watched Shun attempt to break Wukong's arm only to get a vicious claw to the face. “This isn’t my first time dealing with his creepy ass.”

“But I could have helped,” he almost whined, “Mei has tons of ideas for retribution and I got a very powerful stick that tends to hurt…a lot.”

“And I believe that, but I got it,” he ruffled his kid hair, “but thank you for looking out for little ol me even when I don’t need it.”

“Like how the Monkey King is doing right now.”

“He’s just an impulsive idiot right now,” he grinned sharply as he watched Shun stagger in place from his wound as Wukong taunted him as his hand dripped red. He is not totally blind to see that his friend has a protective streak wider than the Earth when it comes to people he cares for. He has certainly seen it when his leg was broken by an uppity pack of Tiger demons. Needless to say, when the Wukong got back and saw him lying there and surrounded by demons, well let’s just say that the food was pretty good that day and even had some warm blankets to go alongside with it.

So to see that this still applies for him despite their long separation, he couldn’t stop that warm burst of feeling brew from inside of him.

Wukong, on the other hand, was feeling the blood pump in his ears with each hit he landed on the bastard. And while he unfortunately can’t go full Sage mode on his ass (the forest probably won’t be able to stand if he did and he actually likes this haven his mate had created) he is still enjoying kicking this disgusting little lemur ass.

“Bet you really feeling it now,” he taunted as he broke another rib. “Can ya feel it? Each little bone in your body breaking? It must fucking suck!” He viciously laughed, “But that’s what you get when you don’t fuck off when someone tells you no, especially Moonbright.”

“Stop calling him that,” the lemur growled for the first time.

“Oh what Moonbright,” he received another growl in return. “Or maybe Mango? Moon? Moonlight? My heart?”

“YES!” He hissed out as he recklessly leaped towards the monkey.

“Nah, can’t do that,” he smirked as he grabbed the lemur arm and tossed him back towards the growing crater. Then he let a wicked smile show on his face, “I mean, he is my other half,” he emphasized. Was he making this worse? Yes, yes he was. Does he care in the slightest? No he does fucking not. He’s been wanting to let loose some of those words out for quite some time, albeit it’s under an illusion that he’s just riling him up, but damn does it feel good to say.

Before the lemur could leap back up a charge at him once more another force came into play.

“Having fun without me!” Shun felt a pain burst from his back as he saw a pig tailed girl leaped off of him with blood dripping from her sword. “That is a damn shame.”

“I had this handled you know,” Monkey King petulantly said.

“Oh I know,” she slings her sword over her shoulder, “but I really wanted to land a hit on this bastard at least once for what he did to Pops.”

“Fair enough.”

“Another child!” He said with glee despite his broken bones and blood dripping down his face.

“He is seriously messed up in the head,” she muttered as she couldn’t help but step back at his gaze though she did raise a brow as Wukong stepped beside her while he kept his eyes on the lemur.

“Okay fuck this, I’m ending it,” Macaque huffed as he stepped forward.

“Actually Dad, can I do this,” he paused at his son's words as his eyes were locked firmly onto the agitated lemur.

“MK, I’m not about to let you-” he was cut off.

“Please,” he pleaded as his brown eyes flickered to violet ones.

“…fine, but if things are looking bad then I will step the fuck in,” he huffed as he subtly sent some more shadow clones in the foliage of trees and amongst his son's shadow.

“Oh don’t worry,” he began to spin his staff as he walked forward. “I won’t even need to leave your line of sight when I get done with him.”

MK continued forward as he neared the lemur, passing by both Mei and Wukong who gave him a glance.

“I’m ending this,” he simply said.

“You need help?” The dragon's successor looked to her brother.

“Nope,” said the doctor's son.

“Well holler if you do.”

“Always happy to lend a hand,” the Monkey Sage joked as he wiped off his own bloody hand. He wouldn’t mind another round of beating to the lemur…maybe a couple more just to be fair.

“Oh trust me, I won’t,” he darkly chuckled, which surprised the other two.

MK was done with Shun, he was already creeped out before he met him, disgusted by the letter, nauseated when he first saw him, and down right pissed when he heard him speak to his Dad like that.

It was time for his Dad to be protected for once instead of the other way around. Shun is gonna regret ever breathing by the time they're done with him.

Shun's eyes lit up when he saw MK approach. “It so good to see you for the first ti-”

“Shut the fuck up,” he cut him off.

“Wha-”

“I said shut the fuck up.”

“…excuse me?”

“You're not excused,” he shrugged his shoulder.

“That is no way to talk to your parent-” he was interrupted once more.

“Well it’s a good thing that you aren’t then isn’t it, I mean if you were then I would willingly go back to my deadbeat sperm donors than you,” he mocked him.

“I’m sorry what?!” Wukong was already taken by surprise by his student's sudden shift in attitude, let alone this new heaping pile of info.

“That’s a whole nother story for later,” Mac patted his shoulder.

“But here’s what’s gonna happen, you will either die in this forest or flee from here by the skin of your teeth,” he bluntly stated.

“Oh? And what makes you say that?” He let some amusement drip in his voice.

“Have you not seen the entities that live in this forest?”

“Indeed I have and they are truly a magnificent feature, but they are no match for me,” he arrogantly said.

“…hey Red! I thought you said he was smart?” He yelled out to the tree he had previously jumped from.

“Smart as in he knows some pretty advanced science that even leaves me confused,” the Bull prince said as sat down on the branch next to an anticipating bluenette.

“Oh, well that makes sense, cause if you were really smart then you wouldn’t have even stepped foot in this forest with the intent to kill, even Ever is dangerous despite his looks,” he concluded. Ignoring the faint chuckle from the trees.

“What is that supposed to mean?” He got increasingly agitated at the despairing remark upon his intelligence.

“It means that you have an overinflated ego stuff in between your ears that replaced your brain a long time ago.”

“Meaning?”

“If you had any brain cells then you would have known that you signed your name personally upon Yama book when you stepped foot in this forest, cause let me tell you.” It was at this point that the pressure began to dip as Shun suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe as the trees seemed to loom above him and glowing eyes were gazing upon him from the shadows. “You would have known that we don’t take kindly to people trying to harm our own, especially Dad.”

One by one, the demon, creatures, mythical and animals alike all began to emerge from the shadows with a nasty snarl fresh on their faces.

The Faeries' smiles were sharp with their fanged teeth wide with glee.

Qianglu slithered forward as they let out a terrifying hiss that thrummed in his ears.

The Monkey tribe all had their teeth bared in face of the intruder.

The Shui Gui was grinning happily as he licked his lips in anticipation.

Ní elegantly walked forward as her tails flickered behind her, but her hazel eyes only had sight for the prey.

Even amongst the trees BaBa, much too large to entirely fit in the clearing, kept her bright yellow eye, larger than all the beings in the area itself, gazed upon the scene.

As more and more beasts gathered around, for the first time in a long while, Shun felt fear.

“Welcome to the neighborhood,” MK casually slung the staff over his shoulder as he gave him a parting wave, “Let us show you how we handle intruders.”

Shun ran and ran and ran as fast and as hard as he could. But they followed.

And then he slowly vanished back into the woods as all the creatures that he thought were prey were the predators chasing after him. He really did forget that not creatures show who they truly are at first look, they like to pretend their fickle little insects that scatter at first sight of danger. But if you take a peek beneath the shell then it turns out that there are monsters lurking underneath with their jaws wide awaiting their first morsel.

So, he didn’t leave with a grand finale nor his deserved epic fight to the death. No, he simply blew out like a candle amongst a sea of lights cause in the end he knew what he really was.

Not the feared predator.

No, he was the prey and it was his turn to be feasted upon the monsters.

“Well that was easy,” Yanyu said as she jumped down from the tree.

“You're telling me,” said Red as he followed, then he turned to MK, “Who is Ever anyways?”

MK snapped out of his former personality shift as his cheeks blushed, “It’s Shui Gui, you know, Kappa.”

“Right, right, but what does it stand for?” He pushed, “cause you wouldn’t be blushing like that if there wasn’t something else.”

Mei turned her head to hide her smile.

“It..it stands for Whatever,” he whispered, but Wukong still heard that perfectly clear.

“His name is Whatever?” He confusedly asked for such a strange name.

“I was like seven! You can’t blame me!” He defended himself with arms crossed.

“Huh?”

“Ah the Shui Gui cares not for names,” Red nodded, “so he usually will respond to any. My question is why did you call him whatever out of everything?”

Yanyu snorted loudly.

“I was a kid and I was getting really frustrated with him that I blurted out the first thing in mind! How was I supposed to know that he would actually respond to it! Now he won’t let it go!” He threw his hands up.

At this point both girls are full on laughing at MK's frustration.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” the prince nodded at his various times meeting Kappa. He was indeed the strangest creature in the forest.

“I’m lost,” Wukong deadpanned.

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell you later,” Mac said as he leaned into the simian. It felt good finally having that bastard out of sight once again.

Wukong did the same as he wrapped his arms back around the other monkey, pulled him a bit closer, and wrapped his tail firmly around the other waist. “You better,” he faintly purred in his ears.

Macaque could barely stop the shiver at the lips so close to his face, but he managed to make it off by just shifting his body to get into a comfortable position.

Though that didn’t stop the Sage from gazing at him as he looked at his long fur once more and just when he was about to open his mouth.

BOOM!

“Alright! Whose ass am I kicking!” Daiyu screeched out as she scanned the scene for the ex boyfriend from hell. They had gotten a call from Yanyu earlier about his ass potentially showing up and they booked it there.

“God fucking Damnit,” Wukong cursed as he reluctantly move slightly away.

“He appears to not be here, Dai,” said Ahmed as he walked into the clearing with Minsheng and Bohai.

“Seemed he had left the coop,” chuckled Sheng as they looked towards everyone, “gave him a good ass kicking I'm guessing.”

“That and he is now currently running from almost every beast in the forest,” MK happily said.

Bohai gave a low whistle, “So he’s not leaving this forest alive then.”

“Nope,” came the response from all.

“That’s what he gets for messing with the King of the Forest,” Mei jokes, earning a groan from Mac.

“Don’t you even start on that.”

“What do you mean your royal highness,” the rabbit cheekily said.

“Don’t!”

“Is there something wrong your majesty,” the vulture said.

“Are you actually-”

“Did we speak out of your magnificence,” Yanyu mockingly bowed.

“Out of place your grace,” Mei courtesy with a sly grin.

“Out of turn your excellency,” MK did something with his hands as he bowed low.

“I swear-”

“Guys let’s all calm down before we get on our imperial majesty's last nerve,” Red casually said.

“Thank you-I swear to all things!”

“Our deepest of apologies your kingliness,” Wukong teased as he pressed closer to him.

“I expected nothing less from you,” he barked at him.

“Alright let’s all settle down,” Ahmed chuckled, “we don’t want to get his reverence too worked up.”

“…fuck it, I’m done for the day!” He threw his hands up and began to march back home. “If any of you guys want food then your ass better be helping me do some shit. It either helps me in the kitchen or checks on the state of the forest, more specifically how everything and everyone is holding up. Preferably the ones going are the ones that don’t mind fighting cause there’s gonna be a lot of those bastards still on edge and need to let loose some steam.”

“Yes, dinner sounds great right about now,” Daiyu said as she spread her wings and took off.

“Count me in!” Minsheng said as they began to hop into the forest.

“Same!” Mei yelled as she raced after them.

“Let me just check in on my gremlins and I will for sure help you out in the kitchen,” Yanyu replied as she took out her phone.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing what else lives in this forest,” Wukong said as he stretched his arms.

“I’ll help you Dad,” MK said as Ahmed followed close behind.

Red Son stood there as the other began to walk away with a bit of uncertainty before Macaque called back to him.

“Are you coming or not?”

“Wait me too?” Red said with some hesitation.

“If I’m letting those lunatics join in then why not,” he raised his brow.

Red gave a slight smile as he caught up and walked beside MK, “What are we making?”

“Mapo Tofu,” said the young adult.

“Will there be any spicy?”

“He has a whole tray filled with them,” MK can almost taste it.

“Yes!”

Also a shout out to Pen-Woman for the lovely idea of Protective kiddos!!

Also longest chapter yet!!! Just over 8000 words!!!

#lego monkie kid #six eared macaque #macaque #mk #lmk mei #monkey king #PlumTeaAU

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goofygomez · 3 years

Text

Moonlit Wishes - A Rayllum Fanfic

Hey everyone, long time no see! I've been on hiatus for a very long time, and it's very quite good for my mental health. Recently I binged The Dragon Prince on Netflix (highly recommend it) and decided to do as I do and write a fic for it.

This one in particular is inspired by @raayllum's amazing Hiatus Hoedown. This time I'm taking a crack at Day 1: Talking to the moon. Hope you guys enjoy it.

Here's a link to the Ao3 story, if you'd prefer to read it on there.

Description: Callum and Rayla discuss the differences in their cultures' way of wishing upon celestial bodies, fluff ensues.

Wordcount: 3386

----

Callum had always loved the moon, even as a child. It had always looked to him as a watchful eye, surveying the world beneath it. His mother would take him on nightly strolls along the castle to go see it, and she knew the secret passages to the highest towers without alerting the Crownsguard. She called them ‘their little adventures’. Of course, she was the Queen, so they did not really need to sneak around, but Callum found their nighttime wanderings something… magical.

They would stare up at the moon and tell each other about their days, sometimes sharing a jelly tart from the town baker until eventually, he’d fall asleep on her lap. He never did get to tell his mother how much those nights meant to him before it was too late. Nearly ten years later, that void in his heart still ached every time he looked up at that beautiful silver moon.

“What’ya thinking about?” came the voice of Rayla from behind him. He turned to see his girlfriend tilting her head at him.

“Nothing, just… thinking,” he said.

“Oh, that’s specific,” teased the elf.

Callum rolled his eyes and took her hand in his, four fingers against five. Her silver hair fell gracefully over her shoulders, a small braid poking its way through it on her left side. Her lilac eyes, bright and alert as ever, looked into his green ones, and a goofy grin spread across her lips.

“Just thinking about you… and how beautiful you are,” he said, trying his best at sounding smooth. It was partially downplayed by his voice cracking, but she giggled nonetheless.

“Shut up, you dummy.” She punched him playfully on the shoulder.

“C’mon, I wanna show you this place,” he said, gesturing behind him.

They were on the outskirts of the Katolian Capital’s forest, walking down a partially obscured path. Large, ancient trees stood like sentries on either side of them, their tops barely obscuring the silver rays of moonlight seeping through the branches, casting odd, elongated shadows over the packed dirt. Dead leaves and pine needles were strewn about haphazardly, almost deliberately to accentuate their footfalls.

Callum thought of the last time he came to this particular spot with his brother and step-father. It seemed an eternity ago that they’d played ‘I spy’ on this very path. Now, their father was dead and Ezran, newly crowned King of Katolis, had spent the first few months of his rule advocating for the union of the human kingdoms with the Xadian population, with Callum at his side. It had not been easy so far, as some wounds were still fresh in the other rulers’ minds, but Ezran had still not lost hope.

Rayla had been with them most of the time, trying her best to be an ambassador for the young king, though her status with the Moonshadow elves was still under review. Callum assured her that they would eventually be forced to lift her banishment, but some of the elder elves were… stubborn in their thinking. He just hoped they would listen to them when they arrived there next month.

After a few minutes of silent pacing, punctuated solely by their soft footsteps and the occasional chirping of crickets, they arrived at a large clearing. Just ahead of them, a small lake shimmered under the moonlight. The packed dirt on the path gave way to lush green grass, illuminated both by the starry sky and fireflies. The bank closest to them was filled with small boulders, eroded by millennia of contact with the eerily still waters.

Callum stepped back to let Rayla see the whole picture and grinned.

“So? What do you think?”

The elf glanced around the clearing with awe and wonder in her eyes. Callum did not fail to notice her disgruntled expression directed at the peaceful water.

“Don’t worry, we’re not going into the lake,” he assured her, chuckling when Rayla sighed dramatically.

“Thank the Moon,” she said, nodding. “If you had brought me to a nighttime swim, I would probably break up with you.”

“Duly noted.” He took her hand again and led her to one of the boulders, careful not to steer her too close to the water’s edge. “I just thought it would be fun to just… hang out here.”

They sat on the rock and spread out, stretching their legs slightly after a half-hour walk down the forest.

“It does seem peaceful,” she conceded, laying her head on his shoulder. “Been a while since we were able to do this.”

Callum sighed. “I know.” Between assisting his brother and Rayla’s constant trips to and from Xadia, they had not had much time to themselves as a couple. “I promise to make a little more time when you’re here.”

“At least it’s for a good cause, right?” said Rayla. “I mean, Ez needs all the help he can get. Plus, we’ve got a lot of time to… catch up once things settle down.” She looked up at him with a fond smile.

Callum thought of all the times, even before they got together, that they just sat on a patch of dirt or some rock, looking at the sky and wondering when their mission would be over; wondering if they’d ever see their homes again, or would live to tell the tale.

“I just want to know when that is. Even just an estimate would be nice,” he said half-heartedly, letting out a deep breath and leaning forward to place a caste kiss on her lips. “But this is worth the wait.”

“Look who’s all sappy all of a sudden,” she said with a grin and kissed him again. “I love you, dummy.”

“I love you, too.”

They sat there, enjoying each other’s presence for what felt like forever, but could only have been ten minutes. A soft breeze had picked up from the east, creating ripples on the otherwise still surface of the lake; distorting the reflection from the crescent moon above. He looked up once more, wondering if his mother was out there somewhere, overjoyed that her sons were following in her and Harrow’s footsteps.

Just as he scanned the sky for whatever signs she would send him, something incredible happened. Almost as if called upon by his thoughts, a shooting star streaked across the star-strewn sky, bright and beautiful. As fast as it had come, it vanished.

“Look, did you see that?” he exclaimed excitedly, pointing at the spot where it had just been.

“Uh, what am I looking at?” asked Rayla, confused.

“The shooting star, right there.” He closed his eyes and muttered under his breath. He could feel Rayla staring at him, and after a few seconds, opened his eyes to see her wide-eyed and thoroughly confused.

“Wha- What just happened?” she said, glancing between him and the sky.

“It’s a shooting star,” he said matter-of-factly. “When you see one, you make a wish. Don’t elves do that?”

“Wait, humans wish upon shooting stars?” she asked incredulously. “Why?”

Callum shrugged. “I don’t know, we just do. It’s a tradition or something.”

“Humans are weird.”

“Sure, what do you guys wish upon? The moon?” he said with a smirk, enjoying a little too much how pink her cheeks got.

Rayla scoffed. “As a matter of fact, we do,” she said, trying and failing to sound indignant.

“But the moon is there every night,” he said, glancing up at the sky and frowning. “That’s a lot of wishes.”

“We only wish on a New Moon, dummy,” she explained patiently.

“Why only the New Moon?” Callum asked, genuinely curious. It seemed logical enough that they wouldn’t wish on the moon every single night, but any insight into his girlfriend’s culture was something he did not take lightly.

“Well, the idea is that a New Moon signals the beginning of another cycle. The halfway point between two Full Moons, which is when we’re at our strongest. The Moon Arcanum supposedly… blesses us when we’re at our weakest.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Callum said pensively. “More sense than whatever humans came up for shooting stars, at least.”

“So… what did you wish for just now?”

“I can’t say.”

“Why? Is it embarrassing?” teased Rayla, poking him in the ribs. He chuckled but shook his head.

“No, because if I tell you, it won’t come true.”

“Well that’s no fun,” she said with a pout.

Callum shrugged and scooted closer to Rayla, taking her right hand in his and squeezing gently. They both sighed contently, almost as if they knew what the other was thinking; could sense the peacefulness and the stillness of the air around them.

“Tell you what, if it comes true, I’ll let you know,” he said, kissing the top of her head, careful to avoid her horns.

“Sounds good,” she said. “So what were you muttering before? I have good hearing but it barely sounded like words.”

“It’s like a little song you say before you make your wish?”

Rayla studied him curiously, nodding along as he spoke. She seemed to be thinking about something, debating with herself. She blinked once and looked into his eyes.

“Would you teach me?” she asked softly.

“You wanna make a wish?” he said. When she nodded, he sat up straight, facing her. He took her hands in his and grinned. “Repeat after me. Star bright, star light.”

She nodded and followed his instructions. She closed her eyes and sighed before saying, “Star bright, star light.”

“First star I see tonight.” He thought it might not count, as she had not done it before, but it was the thought that counted, right?

She repeated the phrase and her lips curved ever so slightly upwards.

“Wish I may, wish I might,” he continued

“Wish I may, wish I might.”

“Have the wish I wish tonight,” he concluded, opening his eyes and seeing her mouthing the end of the song, nodding almost solemnly. Her eyes fluttered slowly open and landed on him.

Callum heard the rustling of leaves above them, possibly from a squirrel scrutinizing them or a songbird perching on a branch. He thought of all the time they’d have as a couple, especially after their help was not as imperative in the running of Katolis, to just… be happy together. How long had he refrained from letting himself be truly content with his life? And now, being with Rayla, he couldn’t even imagine anything or anyone else for him.

He leaned forward and kissed her ever so gently. Her lips tasted of moonberries, and her violet eyes, almost glowing in the dark, closed as she melted into the kiss and he felt her hand on his scarf, not quite pulling him in but not pushing him either. When they broke apart, he was grinning.

“My wish did come true,” he said, cheekily.

“Mine too,” she replied.

Rayla’s footsteps were light and gentle on the soft ground; years of training to be an assassin still ingrained in her every move. Even eight years after meeting who she now knew was the love of her life, there still was a part of her that kind of missed those times when life was so… straightforward. Even so, as she looked back at Callum – now a few inches taller than he’d been when they met, and growing what could only be described as the faintest shadow of a beard – she knew in her bones that that little part of her was wrong.

He looked impressive with his fur overcoat, his immaculately woven violet undershirt (which he claimed matched her eyes) and his leather boots. He had opted not to wear his signature red scarf tonight, which she suspected was just so he could more prominently showcase his facial hair, which he was weirdly proud of.

Callum stood a little ways away from Rayla, looking up at the moon with closed eyes and a sort of… wistful expression on his face. Her mind instantly brought the memory of one of their first dates to this magical clearing in Katolis, where she’d taught him the strange human tradition of wishing upon shooting stars. Moon and Stars, Ethari had burst out laughing when she had told him. Humans were weird.

Now, her weird human was stoically standing with his hands on his hips. She cleared her throat, leaning against a nearby tree. Callum shook his head as though he hadn’t realized she was there, and grinned.

“Hey, sorry, did I space out?” he said.

“Yeah, it was daytime when you stopped there,” she replied, arching an eyebrow.

He snorted and held out his hand, which she gratefully took. “I’m sure it was less than a minute.”

They resumed their stroll down the familiar path, pine needles crunching merrily under Callum’s less graceful steps. She only rolled her eyes in response and lay her head on his shoulder, doing her very best not to impale him with one of her horns, which had also grown considerably as she reached adulthood. She knew humans had a rather short life expectancy; at least shorter than the oldest elves she knew back in Xadia, but at least their early years of development were more or less even.

She wondered in silence just how much of a difference their physiology would make down the road. Would she outlive him by decades? Would the rest of her human friends do the same…? She shook her head and pushed away those thoughts, choosing instead to bask in the moment; being here with Callum was all that mattered.

Eventually, the trees thinned, thick trunks giving way to mere shrubbery as the clearing they’d been seeking opened up in front of them. A beautiful, albeit terrifying lake, loomed ahead of them, its unnervingly calm waters barely rippling in the autumn breeze. She could see the reflection of the stars in it, flashing intermittently like little candles flickering in the night.

Wordlessly, Callum and Rayla kept following the path until they reached their favourite spot: a large boulder, far enough away from the shore that her skin didn’t prickle with anxiety every time a particularly strong current grazed the edges. Callum had attempted to help her through her fear multiple times, but the best he’d ever gotten her to do was get on a boat without getting extremely seasick.

It wasn’t as though sea travel was a major obstacle between the human kingdoms and Xadia. Most if not all the roads to and from her ancestral home were entirely land-based, so she hadn’t had to brave the murderous ocean ever since their stint with Captain Villads, which she still claimed was one of the worst experiences of her life.

“You alright?” she heard Callum say beside her, as they sat atop the boulder and looked out toward the lake. “You look a little pale.”

“Just a little… cold,” she lied, shrugging. It wasn’t a complete lie, of course. The breeze had picked up considerably in the last half hour they’d been walking, but she was pretty used to the cold when living in Katolis.

Ever the gentleman, Callum took off his overcoat and draped it over her shoulders, ignoring her protests. She grinned sheepishly at him and cuddled closer to him, the warmth of the coat enveloping her only slightly more than her closeness to him.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice soft. He moved around for a second before settling in against the rock and wrapping an arm around her.

“Anything for you,” he said. She felt her cheeks heat up, almost childishly. He had complimented her thousands of times over the years, but it still didn’t mean she was used to it.

“Y’know, there was an actual reason I brought us here tonight,” he added after a few minutes of silence.

“Oh?” she said, looking up at him curiously.

“Well, I just wanted to, uh, tell you how much I love you, and how much better you’ve made not only my life, but everyone’s,” he said, clearly fumbling for words, as though he had rehearsed this and did not want to get a single thing wrong. “You’re beautiful and kind, and strong, and…” he trailed off, looking down at her apologetically. “I’m very bad at this.”

She chuckled and sat up straight, facing him as she had all those years ago under a crescent moon. “No, go on,” she said. “I like when you get all flustered.”

“Oh, then this should be a joyride for you,” he said, assuming her same posture. “I just… wanted to show you just how much I love you. Ever since you tried to kill me that night…” He looked at her with a smirk, and it was her turn to flush. “You changed my life, and I wouldn’t trade these last 8 years for the world. You make me feel whole, even in my worst days, or when I’m frustrated by a new spell, or a council meeting gone wrong. You’re always there for me. So…”

He turned slightly to the side and shoved his hand into his pocket, struggling against what she assumed were nerves. She was extremely curious as to where this was going, but her suspicions were rising. Eventually, he pulled out what seemed to be a rather small box. It was violet, like his undershirt and her eyes.

“Rayla,” Callum said, sucking in a breath and looking at her with those big green eyes of his sparkling in the starlight. He opened the small box and Rayla could finally see that it was a silver ring. It was adorned with two tiny amethysts, glinting brightly up at her, flanking what she recognized at once as a Moon Opal. Her breath caught in her throat, tears threatening to break surface with her eyes.

“Will you marry me?” she heard him say, almost hazily; as though in a dream.

She took several long looks at him, then back at the ring, then finally landed on his face, contorted with an awkwardness only Callum could pull off as cute instead of downright constipated. She let out a small laugh and nodded slowly, watching as his emerald green eyes widened, as though he couldn’t quite believe them.

“Yes,” she said softly. “Yes, I’ll marry you, you big dummy.” She launched herself at him and enveloped him in a rather strong hug, tears now flowing freely from her eyes, because who would even judge her for it? After a few seconds – or it might have been an hour – or several moonlit nights – they broke apart. She kissed him deeply and he grabbed the ring from the box, taking her left hand with his own.

“Uh…” he hesitated, looking from her hand to her face. “Which hand do elves wear wedding rings on?”

Rayla couldn’t help but giggle. In any other circumstance, she would have rolled her eyes and playfully punched him in the shoulder. This time, however, she just shrugged. “This one.” She pointed to her fourth finger, smiling.

A little more confidently, he took her hand and gingerly placed the ring on it. She heard him breathe a sigh of relief and chuckled.

“You were really nervous, weren’t ya?” she teased, admiring the ring on her hand. “You knew I was gonna say yes regardless, so why worry?”

“I did, but it still doesn’t make it any less nerve-wracking,” he said, shrugging. “You like it?”

“I love it, it’s beautiful,” she said, leaning in to kiss him again.

They lay back against the boulder, looking up at the sky, their hands clasped and breathing deep. The New Moon stood sentry in the sky, grey and muted against the starry night, yet oddly imposing. She could feel the pull of it in her bones; the characteristic surge of energy that nighttime gave her kind. She pondered this as a thought occurred to her.

“Was that what you were doing before?” she asked tentatively, glancing up at her boyfriend. No, not her boyfriend… her fiancé.

“Yeah, I remembered that time you showed me how you guys wish on the New Moon,” he explained, laying his head on the top of hers. “I guess I wanted to be extra lucky tonight.”

“You’re a dork,” she said, matter-of-factly.

“But I’m your dork,” he retorted.

Yes, he was her dork, and she was his. Forever.

#the dragon prince #tdp #callum #rayla #rayllum #hiatus hoedown #raayllum #ttm is not canon here

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 3 years

Text

Inked

Still on hiatus. But I found an old piece of writing and I revamped it just a smidge! It was originally published in 2018 on calumh-excess. Which is now deactivated. Hooray for finding pieces!

Calum's been watching Jay for a while. She's cute, talented, but a bit of mystery. Should he really give into her? What will it take for him to admit he has a crush?

Enjoy my masterlist (on hiatus)

______________

He watched her sometimes for far too long. The way her tongue stuck out as she pulled the skin and her hand worked steadily with the needle made it hard for him to resist. Her face always seemed to catch the harsh fluorescent lights and reflect it back so that it twinkled against her skin. A slight sheen, but nothing just of ethereal. He wasn’t even interested in any new ink, not seriously anyway. He had slowed on the ink train, but the shop his tattoo artist owned was a nice place to hang out sometimes. When he wanted to get out of his house but didn’t want to actually go somewhere, he could hang out here, listening to the buzz of the tattoo gun, poke his hand at trying a design here or there. They weren't great. He hadn't considered him this kind of artist, but the shop felt like a second home.

Besides, having her around was a more than welcomed bonus.

He wasn’t even sure what it was about her. She showed up about a year and a half ago, under an apprenticeship. Calum’s artist was unsure of her, much like everyone else that asked to work under him. A hazard of the job, according to the job, according to Calum's artist. However, her drawings spoke volumes; the colors and line work were impeccable. She had talent and knew it without being cocky about it. Well, sometimes she wasn’t. Calum watched her run into the occasional asshole that tried to belittle her; she always put her foot down in those situations. He didn’t fault her.

Today’s no different. When Calum walks in, he greets the guy at the front desk, eyes searching for her. He spots her in the back with her oversized frames creating a small glare over her brown eyes. He never quite got the appeal of the grandma-shaped glasses trend, but on her, they worked. She looked wise but soft. The glass pulled him in, felt like she was seeing into his soul. Maybe she was; maybe the pain made people more vulnerable than they anticipated--entrusting someone, a stranger in some ways, to permanently mark you and not fuck it up. Whatever the reason, looking at her felt timeless. Like she had seen it all, and you are just waiting for you to spill all the secrets.

“You finally going to get some new ink?” Calum’s artist teases.

Calum shakes his head, turning his attention away from her. “You finally took her training wheels off?”

“Your girlfriend’s got mad skills. I couldn’t baby her forever. Jay works hard on each piece, learned fast. Got a steady ass hand and pretty gentle for handling a needle.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, because you haven’t hardly even talked to her. Go for it, you wuss. What’s the worst she says? No?”

Calum exhales a chuckle. "I mean, the worst she stabs me with the tattoo gun. But considering the ink I'm already sporting, I doubt that's really all that bad.”

“Jay would not do that unless you asked for it, ff course. But really, go on, ask her out.”

Calum glances back at Jay. It’s a nickname. No one in the shop calls her by her full name. The only reason Calum heard it was when a client came asking for her. Jay was quick to correct them.

She wipes, clearing excess ink, before dipping back into the small cup. Jay smiles up at her client. Calum's sure they appreciate the reprise. Getting tattoos weren't always fun, but bearable enough to forget about it and get more.

Calum turns his gaze away. “I recommended you to a friend,” he says, hoping that he’ll escape the teasing. It’s not likely to happen. But at least he tries to minimize the ridicule.

"I appreciate it. Are they a first-timer?"

"A second-timer, but they're visiting town and want some new ink. I figured best not to fuck them over."

The two men laugh before Calum's escorted back to look through some new designs. Just in case something sparks his interest. Calum's visit is supposed to be short, but there's not much else on his to-do list for the day. He could kill a few hours here.

When Calum comes out from the back, after spending too much time pretending art was ever a talent of his, he looks for Jay again. She’s not in her corner, nor is she at the front. Calum shrugs, figuring she might have gone for lunch, or home depending.

As Calum walks to his car, he checks his phone. Nothing major's happened.

“Leaving so soon?” A voice states. Calum knows that voice, a little gravelly, mostly sweet. He’s dreamt of it every so often. He prays to hear it when he visits the shop.

He turns to Jay, who leans against the bricks. A vape is wrapped in her fingers. “Gotta get some dinner, maybe make a run to the grocery store," Calum returns. "I've gotten lazy."

She nods. “This reminds me that I can't survive off BLTs forever," she laughs.

"You could try, but I think you'd need other vegetables and some fruit in that mix too."

She pushes up on her glass with a nod. "Ah, yes, gotta get the whole food pyramid." It goes silent between them and Calum gives another nod, raising a few fingers to signal his departure while still keeping his phone in a secure enough grip.

"Hey, wait!" Jay calls out again, taking a half step forward. Calum turns to her. "Can I give you something before you leave?”

Calum nods, not trusting his voice. What would she give him? She nods back to the front door, taking back that initial half-step. “It's inside. Give me like two minutes.”

She disappears inside and Calum stands, his phone still in his hands, staring at the spot she once stood. Just as quickly as she disappeared, Jay reappears. In hand is her portfolio. She flips through before stopping and slides the heavy-duty drawing paper out.

Calum stares down at the green and black drawing. It’s his face, for the most part, that stares back at him. It’s distorted by a crystal ball that glows green. Inside are some instruments and something else, but right now he can’t really put it all together. His eyes keep moving over the lightning bolt, the crystal ball, the uncanniness of his face on a piece of paper, his three-dimensional face somehow translated perfectly into a 2-D space.

“Holy shit, this is amazing,” he breathes. “Thank you,” he says looking back up to her.

She shrugs with a smile. “You’re welcome.”

“Seriously, this is so fucking awesome. I’m going to frame it,” he gushes. He’s too excited to be nervous, or be embarrassed. "What are the dimensions?"

“I'm just really glad you don’t find it too creepy. I was watching you a couple weeks ago when you stopped by. It just sort hit me, the image of the crystal ball and lightning bolt; I had to draw it,” Jay elaborates. "And it's 8.5 by 11--standard printer paper size."

Calum shakes his head, staring over the drawing again. It feels so delicate suddenly in his hands. It’s almost like Jay recognizes the change in his handling. She shuffles her load in her hands and pulls out an empty plastic over. “Here,” she laughs handing it over. “So it doesn’t smudge or anything if you're worried."

Calum slides it in. “Thank you. Again. Seriously.”

“You’re welcome, Calum. Good luck with your grocery store trip and dinner,” Jay nods and then heads back inside. Calum watches the way the denim stretches across her hips, the way her hair billows just a little in the breeze of her strut.

For a moment, Calum can't move. The weight of the paper in his hand is hardly ounces, but it holds him--traps him to the point of the sidewalk. Jay thought enough of him to draw him. What did it all mean? Should he have found the courage to ask her out? He could walk back inside. But what if she didn't like him like that? Would it be too weird?

Calum blinks up into the hardly settling sun and thinks to himself, the second he can come back here, it better be with a bit more courage and possibly a gift certificate. No one can be made about free food, right?

It’s months before Calum can visit the shop again. The tour is a whirlwind and he only gets a few days off between legs. Not long enough to get back home or feel like he had any energy to drive out to the shop. But now that he's settled back in at home, he knows exactly where he's going.

It’s not his typical practice to just walk in and ask for a tattoo. But given the ink already on him, worse things could happen. When he pulls open the door, he notices it's kind of slow. Jay greets him at the front desk. “Hey, stranger,” she grins.

“Hey, how are you?” he asks in return.

“Pretty good. How was it? The tour? See any cool places?”

He nods. “Yeah, got to explore a few cities.” He taps his fingers against the wooden desk. “Do you have an appointment anytime soon?”

Jay shakes her head. “My 2 o’clock had to reschedule. I’m here until 4 before I see anyone. Why? What's tickling your fancy?”

“I was wondering if you could do a tat for me? I know this is very last minute and if you need me to come in another day this week, I totally can.” His words run into each other; his palms start to sweat. He wipes them on his jeans.

Jay laughs, holding up a hand. “Whoa, pump the brakes. One, what are you looking for?”

“You know that drawing you did for me?” She nods. “I was kind of hoping you could create something with just the crystal ball and lightning bolt. I know the drawing itself is kind of big.”

A grin lifts her cheeks; Calum’s heart settles for a second. “I think I can do that. Where are you thinking to put it?”

“Inner bicep.” He watches her gaze land on his arm. The t-shirt is baggy, he at least thought about that with enough advance.

“Give me 30 minutes to come up with some sketches.” Jay pushes away from the front desk and heads to the back, but not for calling to the shop to watch the front desk.

Calum slides into the seat at the front, leg bouncing as he settles down. This isn’t even his first tattoo, but the nerves flood his body. His scalp tingles. The thirty minutes move by too fast, but also too slow simultaneously. The seconds feel like hours but move by milliseconds.

Eventually, Jay resurfaces, waving him over to her. He walks back and looks at the sketches she places out in front of him. There are two different ones. One’s a bit more minimalistic, which is her style, with the lightning bolt in the background and a simple crystal ball at the point. The other is a bit bolder, the ball has a slightly warped edge where it connects to the bolt. It looks like the bolt is melting the glass ball.

“I can whip up more if neither one of them are quite right. But I wasn’t sure if it wanted something a bit more crisp and sharp or not,” Jay explains.

Calum admits that most of his tattoos are more cleaned up and sharp. He likes the idea of playing with a new style. “I like the second one,” he says, tapping it.

“You sure?” He nods, he’s never been more sure of something in his life. “Which bicep? Let me line it up and make sure it’ll fit.”

Calum lifts his left arm up for her. Laying the stencil over his skin, Jay notes she has to make a couple small tweaks. But after that, she’ll be ready. They discuss full color, or just outline, or shading, price, and a few other details before Jay concludes with, “Hop in my seat. I’ll be there soon.”

Calum nods and walks over to her station. Her stuff is already laid out, probably for her canceled 2 o’clock. It’s about five more minutes before Jay returns with the final stencil. Calum rolls up the sleeve of his shirt before she places the stencil. Happy with the placement, he stretches out on the table.

Jay gets herself ready before she brings the needle over his skin. The first puncture always makes him jolt a little, the first jab of pain causes his heart to race. “Do you plan on relaxing now that you're back home?"

"Yeah, for a little bit. I might go see my family, but I know we'll be back in the studio soon. Anything exciting happen while I was gone?"

"I mean exciting things happen every day at this place. But it's not like I could recall them all now."

Calum hums, acknowledging her statement, but not quite sure what to say next. Luckily, Jay's faster to fill in the silence. "You do realize you didn’t have to get a tattoo to have a real conversation with me?” Jay teases, pushing up her glasses.

Calum’s cheeks heat. “It’s not like that,” he chuckles.

“Well, that’s how it seems.”

“You were always busy when I stopped by. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Not always,” she laughs. “But it’s alright. You’re going to have plenty of time while I’m stabbing you to say all those things you didn’t.”

A chuckle escapes him; of course, Jay would have this sense of humor. “Wow, I can’t believe I’m paying so much for people just to stab me and act as a therapy. Maybe I am a masochist.”

“So are a lot of people. Sometimes you just take the emotional pain out in the physical realm.”

“I always imagined people that worked in a tattoo shop to be more heavily tatted,” Calum hums, taking in scattered ink across her arms and one pokes out from the V in her t-shirt.

“I focused it more on my back and legs and not so much my arms. I’m getting there. So, why this one today?”

Calum goes to shrug, but stops himself as he hears the gun nearing his skin again. “Not really sure. It looked cool. I guess it also serves to remind me that fate isn’t linear. There’s going to be twists and turns, maybe some trouble. And that’s okay. Don’t be afraid of the journey. Also, it's really fucking cool art.”

Jay hums her laugh, “Why thank you. Wise brain you got there. Besides, it seems like you also have people you keep close to you.” She eyes the initials and the name under the bird. “Whoever they are to you, I hope you all stay close.”

“Those are my parents' initials,” he explains. “And my sister’s name. They’ve been with me through it all--I love them dearly.”

“So sweet. I wish my parents and I were closer. I tattooed my brother’s jersey number on me. It was my first tattoo.”

“What did he play?”

“Soccer, or for your kind, football.”

“Hey now, it’s played with the feet, it makes much more sense.”

Jay laughs, wiping off excess ink. She cocks her head to the side a little, then goes back in for the black ink. “I’m only teasing. Us Americans are so dumb sometimes. Like why is our football not called something else? Literally, the only thing that happens with the feet is the running. We carry the fucking ball.”

“I’ve wondered that as well!” he laughs. "Does your brother still play?"

“Yeah, the whole knucklehead still plays for his college.”

“What position?”

Jay laughs. “I'll have you know my job as the older sister is to show up and cheer him on. Something defensive? I don’t remember off the top my head.”

“I’ll give you credit for that. I’m sure he appreciates it.”

“He does until he sees with me in face paint on and then he’s acting like he doesn’t know me. Oh, oh wait, I think remember what he does. It’s defensive,” she pauses, lips pursed together, “something fielder.”

“Defensive midfielder?” he asks.

“Yeah, that. But like I said, I show up when I can and scream. That’s it. When he’s old enough, I’ll buy him a beer after his games too.”

“How old is he?”

“Nineteen, we’re three years apart.”

“The only sibling you have?”

“Nah, got a baby sister too. She’s fifteen. If you’re impressed by my eyeshadow thank her. Because she’s the one that taught me how to do it.”

Calum finds himself staring at the red and gold coloring her eyelids. “It looks really nice,” he breathes.

“Why thank you.” She pauses to bats her eyelashes. “I even managed to get those godforsaken falsies on right too. They look good, but the raise hell.”

“I think you’re the first woman I’ve met in LA that’s not obsessed with makeup,” he notes.

“Oh, you were doing so well. There are a lot of people of who aren’t huge in the makeup scene.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he tries to backtrack. “I’m sorry. In my experience, it’s not like that. They’re hiding the fact they aren’t wearing makeup--embarrassed by it or something.”

Jay nods, pushing up her glasses yet again. “Yeah, it’s not easy. We’re told to be perfect, but in reality, we’re just like everyone. We’re human, imperfect and flaw-full and beautiful.”

“Not in spite of, but because of.”

“Exactly,” she chuckles. Silences settles in around them. Calum wonders why she said she was closer to her family, but the way she talks about her siblings doesn’t match. She’s cheering her brother on at his game; she’s sitting down to learn makeup with and from her sister.

“Can I ask a bit of a personal question?” he asks.

“What kind of personal? Do I get a lifeline?”

Cal exhales a laugh. “You can always say no.”

“Hit me with it.”

“Why say that you’re family isn’t close but you clearly take a lot of pride in your siblings?”

“An observant one on my table, I see. It’s my parents. They don’t like that I’m pansexual, say I’m going to hell. My siblings don’t fucking care. I’m still the crazy-ass sister that loves and supports them.”

With a hum of acknowledgment from Calum, it goes quiet again around them for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. He knows it doesn’t really fix anything for her; it doesn’t take away the potential years of her suffering. It’s the only thing he can offer her though. It feels right to say.

“Oh, no need for you to be sorry. It’s not like you threw me out of the house.”

“Ouch. You’re making it though right?”

“Yeah, now that I work here, things are on the up and up.”

“That’s good; I’m glad.”

“Thanks.”

“Favorite tattoo you’ve done?” he asks, wanting to hear her voice again.

“This one,” she laughs. “Though I had someone ask for a pin-up witch, which was also pretty fucking cool to do.”

Calum remembers seeing that on her Instagram. “That one was amazing! Her lips looked so good; I know that’s a strange thing to admit.”

“Don’t worry. I am quite proud of that myself.”

“Do you have a favorite tattoo on you?”

“The blue jay on my shoulder. My parents would take me on walks when I was still an infant. According to the legend, while they were sitting on a park bench a blue jay landed on me. I didn’t cry; it didn’t hurt me. It just landed for a second and then flew off. They called me Blue Jay ever since. I just shortened the nickname as I got older.” She gives one more wipe. “Finished. Check it out.”

Calum sits up, walking over to the mirror. He grins seeing the melting ball sitting against his skin. He grins over to Jay. “It looks amazing. Thank you.”

“No problem.” They head back over to her station. Jay cleans it and wraps the fresh ink. Calum carefully gets his sleeve back down with a little help from Jay. He pays their agreed price with his card, but slides two fifties over to her. “You do know that’s more than double a twenty percent tip right?”

Calum shrugs. “Is it? I’m bad at math,” he grins. “Treat your sister to a new palette or something. Treat yourself to something.”

“Thank you. Now next time, you come by, I hope we don’t talk while I’m stabbing you repeatedly.”

Calum shakes his head, a grin still on his face. Of course. He had forgotten to get the gift certificate. But possibly asking Jay to dinner wouldn't be such a bad idea. “Give me your number and I can promise the next time we talk, it won’t in your chair.”

She holds out her hand, waiting. He hands her his phone, after unlocking it. She puts her number in. She goes to hand the phone back but just before his fingers touch it, she draws it back. "I mean it--actually text me. I adore memes, dogs, TikToks, your favorite songs."

"I'll actually talk to you. I promise."

Jay hands over his phone with a smile. Calum steps outside the glass doors. Why should he wait? He could do it now. For fuck sake, the last hour had been the groundwork for a clear sign a date was absolutely an option. His fingers hovering over her name. He taps it, and then presses for a call. Holding the phone to his ear, he listens to it ring for a second.

“I can still see you, you know?” Jay laughs.

Calum turns around, catching her leaning against the front desk. “I told you the next time we talked you wouldn’t be inking me.”

“What can I help you with, Calum?”

“Dinner, tonight-- I may have ordered too many appetizers for just little old me."

Her laugh trickles in over the speaker. She drops her head, giving it a shake before looking back up to him in the afternoon sun. “I think I can help you with that. Give me the time and place."

Calum rattles off the name of a restaurant that he had been wanting to try. Nothing too upscale, but not something that would be too casual. "How does 8 sound?"

"I love it there. I'll see you at 8."

“Bye, Jay.”

“Bye, Calum.” As he walks to his car, his phone buzzes yet again. This time a text from his artist, I’m being fucking replaced, I see. I can’t be too mad since it’s Jay. Calum laughs as he slides into his car. Maybe he is getting replaced; maybe he’s not. Calum’s not sure. He is sure that he needs to figure out if he can make reservations and what to wear for tonight.

#calum hood #calum hood fanfic #calum hood blurb #calum hood imagine #calum hood 5sos #calum 5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos imagine #5sos fic #calum hood fic #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer fic #5 seconds of summer imagine #h writes

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whump-town · 4 years

Text

A Cumbersome And Heavy Body

Chapter One: Tired Of This Body

Summary: Stubborn until the very end, Aaron Hotchner isn't going to go down without a fight. It's just getting hard to tell the difference between fighting them and fighting the cancer.

Word count: 7,883

Author’s Note: ugh... well, here it is. Don’t be afraid to send me hate mail or leave a comment. I love it when I make you guys sad (in a loving way of course) :)) good luck you little shits and may the odds be ever in your favor (FYI, they’re not)

Warning: the subject of this fic is cancer and it’s treatment, cursing, maybe out of character (idk, man. hotch is weird)

I've grown tired of this body Cumbersome and heavy Tired of this body Fall apart without me

“I understand you’re here with concerns of a mass you found—”

He was shaving. The mirror fogged from his shower and the room heavy with steam. Leisurely, he’d wasted time getting ready. That particular morning, he’d gotten up before his alarm and he was happy for the distraction of the near-boiling water pouring over his back while the cold tile bites into his shoulder. An easy stress-reliever before the day fully starts.

Dragging a cool rag over his face he’d caught sight of a slightly swollen place on his chest. He’d dropped the rag in the sink and gently probed the area. He’d expected the sting of a bruise, not a knot of hard lumps.

It wasn’t a bruise.

“I regret to inform you—”

He hadn’t even known there were lymph nodes in the chest.

“Can you take your shirt off for me, sir?”

There’s a whole staff of people fluttering and dodging his eyes. A blur of motion as they work around him. Of them all, Hotch has already developed a soft spot for. Dr. Fitz and the glasses that are too big for his face despite his attempts to make them fit his face. There are rubber bands wrapped around the earpieces to push them tighter around his head and a piece of tape holding one of the lenses in. It’s strangely endearing.

No matter how many times Hotch tells Dr. Fitz that Aaron works just fine, he still nervously throws in the courtesy. He’s just like Reid and it’s that thought that makes him both comfortable and so unbearably alone.

With a nod, Hotch tugs his shirt out from where it’s tucked into his pants. The cold air hits his bare chest and he holds his breath for a moment, shivering slightly before he takes control once again. Foyet’s scars are on broad display for the whole room but, to their credit, none of them blink. They’re not here to dissect the scars covering his body or take stock of the weight he’s put on.

He just goes where he’s pulled. If he flinches when they touch him, no one comments. It’s for the better, mostly.

“The tattoo is going to guide the external beam radiation at your tumor,” Dr. Fitz explains once again. His hands tremble slightly as they hold the little needle in his hands. “It’s just three dots.”

Hotch nods, his mouth a little too dry. This whole process a little too much. He nods his understanding, fists clenched at his side to force himself to show no outward reaction. It doesn’t bother him as much as it should those dots are going to be with him forever. His first and last tattoo.

Forcing a steadying breath, he glues his eyes to the ceiling. It stings but it’s not unbearable. The needle digs into his chest, pushing the ink in. It’s the second and third dot that get him. His skin is getting hot, sore enough to make him gunt as the last one is placed.

“Not nearly as fun as a normal tattoo,” one of the other doctor’s observes. Hotch, blinking back tears, looks over at his other doctor. A woman whom he’d never have figured the “tattoo” type. His brain is a little preoccupied, worn down. He’ll get over not profiling her very well, he just might not forgive himself for the slip-up.

Hotch just… grunts. Not a real answer but the easiest.

He’s offered a hand up but he doesn’t take it. Shoulders sore and arms weak, he pushes himself up. Leaning to the side when his head starts to pound, his mouth really, really dry.

“Alright—” a cold gloved finds his shoulder. “You’re just panicking,” he’s reassured. “You need to breathe. In through your nose and out through your mouth.” The hand squeezes his shoulder but he keeps his eyes squeezed shut. It feels like he’s going to pass out. But… he doesn’t. He breathes as instructed and slowly, the room calms back down.

As he peels his eyes open, chest tight and hands trembling, he finds the room still every bit as busy as it was before his little fit. The world really doesn’t stop.

“Are you sure—,” Dr. Fitz twists and worries his hands. Obviously, he’s worked himself up too. Probably blaming himself for Hotch’s reaction. He should have let him take a break or warned him a little better. “Most people find it helpful to have someone here,” Dr. Fitz observes. “Do you— Do you want to call someone?”

His eyes drop to the floor, his mind-- Haley. She would be here. Cracking jokes and poking at his side. Things used to be so much easier with her around. There was this magic about her, a drug her presence doped him up. She would light the room up and hold his hand. She’s not here, though. She’s dead and he’s having a hard time convincing himself this isn’t some sort of penance.

Snuffing out a light like her, it was bound to have its consequences.

They’ve marked him and with his advanced stage, he’s got an aggressive treatment plan, and the radiation starts tomorrow. So, no. No, he doesn't want to call anyone. He just wants to serve his time. Besides, who would he call?

JJ? With two children of her own and a painfully busy schedule.

Reid? His mother occupies his mind as is.

Morgan? He’s grappling with a relationship with Savannah, attempting to salvage all of the complex things life has thrown at him.

Dave? Hasn’t he already lost a child? The last thing he needs is to sit here for any given amount of time and watch this.

And he’d never, never put Garcia through this.

“No,” he rasps, laying back down. “I’m okay.”

He closes his eyes and when a single hot tear runs down his cheek, he doesn’t wipe it away. I’m okay.

I’m okay.

There aren't immediate side effects and he’s not sure if that’s a relief or worse. He’s anxious, nearly sick with nerves. Would it not be simpler to just get sick already? To throw up or get sore or just— anything.

The machine hurts his ears. Fifteen minutes of lying perfectly still gets hard after about two minutes. The whole process exacerbated by the way the low hum of the machine makes his head feel like someone’s digging at his skull with an icepick through his ear.

He’s assured he shouldn’t start feeling any symptoms for a few days. Likely not until the second week of treatments.

It takes five days for a stitch in his side to take his breath for a moment, doubling over as he struggles to breathe for a moment. Chest tight and head fogged. They just add another pill bottle to the other whole collection he’s accumulated on his nightstand.

It feels like there’s an elephant sitting on his chest. A hand gripping a fist full of his hair and dunking his head back under the water. Ties binding his wrist to the bed. A knife buried in his side.

It feels like the ground he’s standing on is rumbling, shifting beneath his feet and at any given moment it’s going to pitch him forward. A free fall and he doesn’t know if he’s ever going to land on his feet.

He’s staring at the ceiling. Fists gripping the sheets as his stomach twists and churns. Swallowing around the uncomfortable burn in his throat, he turns his head to the side. Watching the movements just outside his bedroom window. Jack’s outside, kicking his soccer ball, and waiting for Daddy to come to join him. Hotch, will have to join him sooner rather than later. Even with the yard fenced in, anything could happen out there.

Funny. Just a few weeks ago, anything could have been blown under the rug with “at least it’s not cancer”. Now he’s plotting his will out in his head, making sure he covers every little thing. Who will lead the team? Where will Jack go? Can Jessica handle arrangements and should he start preparing the comfort letters now?

In the face of it all, he’d thought he could accept this. Life goes on. Things happen. He doesn’t want to die. All of those poems, the books, and the lies. “Do not stand at my grave and weep. I am not there. I do not sleep.” Well, that’s right shit, in his opinion. What comes next? Not light. Not hope. His body will succumb to cancer leaving behind the carnage of his actions.

Hodgkin's Lymphoma…

He’d known, in that morbid way his thoughts tend to twist, that he shouldn’t get his hopes up. That it would be silly for the doctor to smile, sympathetic to his plight, and advise him to talk to his therapist about this new progression of paranoia. For a pat on the back. Instead, he got the cold examination table under his back, and the nurse giving his trembling hand a squeeze as the needle had plunged into his chest.

It’s all been a haze since that phone call. Since the confirmation. Now he’s got more blood tests scheduled for Monday. That’s what his life is now. Radiation for fifteen minutes for four days a week. On the fifth day, he gets blood work drawn. They check for enzymes and cells. He doesn’t really care to understand.

He should. Don’t mistake the careless, numb ache thinking about all this gives him for complete inattention to detail. It’s just a little much for one person.

Hotch finds himself wondering what Reid would tell him about the whole process. Statics that would knock the wind from his lungs and odds that would make him feel just a little better. That he’s too old and too stressed out. That radiation aimed at his chest can harden his arteries and increase his already high chances of a heart attack. That he should have seen this coming-- his father died at 47. Lung cancer. A heart attack.

He should have seen it coming.

“Daddy?”

He has to lean into his nightstand as the ground warps beneath his feet. “I’m coming,” he manages, closing his eyes and blindly hoping that his door is shut and Jack can’t see him. He wishes he’d smoked more. Indulged in Dave’s cigars. Gone drinking with Derek. Danced like Penelope. Fuck, smiled more.

He didn’t even know there were lymph nodes in the chest. He’d gone to law school. Spent his early adulthood learning to read complex course material and how to cry softly in a room with another person less than five feet from him. Maybe he should have studied Biology… but then he’d just have to come to terms with the fact that this whole mess was bound to happen. Predisposed. Genetic and environmental.

His fault.

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

Six in the morning is not a typical time to be fielding calls from concerned police officials. “He—Hello?” Which, now that phone is tucked under his chin, and the call answered, he realizes that he should have checked the caller ID. As stated, is it six in the morning and he doubts anyone too important is calling him at this hour.

Unless, of course, his luck has finally run out and yet another political disaster has occurred. Leaving him to clean the wreck.

The other end makes a strange noise before he’s greeted with, “--finally! I was almost worried you wouldn’t answer!”

Oh.

Emily.

“Morning,” he greets, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. He’s a little too grumpy for this right now but she’s obviously called for a reason, her happiness seeping into tone, and he’s not going to purposely ruin that. How many hours ahead is London, again? Why is she awake?

“I was worried,” she admits. He can hear her working, the drag of her pen across paper, and the shift of the leather chair she’s sitting in. Even her keyboard clicking away as she multi-tasks. “Your last letter was nearly two weeks ago. Is everything good at home?”

Home. He smirks, she’s been overseas now for several years. Yet, she still refers to Virginia as home. The thought makes him shake his head. He’d never draw the conclusion out loud to her but he can imagine that little slip-up is one of the reasons that her on-again-off-again boyfriend Michael grows frustrated with her. It’s not her fault. It’s an understandable mistake but it certainly reflects a certain tone for her affections of London.

Her preferences.

“They’re fine,” he answers, evenly. “Jack’s doing well in school. Dave’s stopped hounding me about potential love suitors.” He pauses to splash water across his mouth, preparing to wash his face. “Garcia enjoyed last month’s tea flavor, what was it-- raspberry?”

He places his phone on speaker and sets it on the shelf above his sink. Ducking his head, he listens to her while he washes his face. Going about the habitual process of shaving. A comforting thing he’s always done. He’s got no preference when it comes to facial hair. A beard is just as easy as a clean face. It’s about shaving. It’s soothing. It’s one of the few things that’s remained constant in his life.

She’s talking-- he thinks about how the weather in London has hit a point in the season that she doesn’t particularly like. Raining and cold. That she wants to come home but she isn’t sure she should. Will she really be able to tear herself away from the Virginia weather? From them?

He’s half-way done shaving when his eyes drift to his shirtless chest.

He wonders how many times he shaved, how many mornings did he wake up before he realized-- before he saw the tumor or the lump or mass or whatever the hell the medical term is. He lowers his head, sighing in defeat but mostly anger. How’d he let it get to this?

“Anyways,” she sighs. Sounding every bit as tired as he feels. “How is home? How are you?”

He looks at himself in the mirror. His head is absent of reason. No logic or forethought.

“I have cancer.”

-------------------------------- Everything about Aaron Hotchner is traditional and simplistic. It’s not a bad thing. In the years that she's known him, she’s grown fond of that. It makes him predictable and reliable. Something that happens infrequently in people the older that she gets. A part of her does feel wrong for clinging to that, to him, but she cherishes his friendship. Through the ups and downs.

Their means of communication are letters. Once a week she can expect to find two to three pages of neatly written updates on her family across the pond. He’ll ramble about anything in those letters and that’s what she enjoys about them the most. There is no hesitation to tell her what he thinks. In those letters, she can find Aaron. Incredible soft, thoughtful Aaron.

It’s been two weeks since he’s sent a letter. Not to sound clingy but she’s kind of hurt. More so, she’s nervous to find out what’s taking up so much of his time. He’s routine with his responses. Almost every Thursday night she can curl up with his newest letter and a glass of wine and read about the BAUs newest adventure. It’s always a bonus when throws in his subtle little “I” statements. I miss you’s come rare but when they do happen it’s nice.

Sighing, she caves. It’s Friday, she hasn’t heard from him in two weeks, and she misses him. By the time she has his contact picture pulled up and the ring tone dialing-- his goofy picture from his badge grinning at her-- she realizes that her eleven am is his six am. Just as she’s starting to think he won’t answer it goes through.

“H--Hello?” he sounds like shit. Over the course of the last year, she’s managed to forget what he sounds like. His voice is startlingly deep which does surprise her just a little.

“Finally!” she mumbles. “I was worried you wouldn’t answer!”

He yawns and it makes her smile. “Morning,” he grumbles and she can hear him scratching tiredly at his face. She feels guilty for waking him up for only a moment. That is until she remembers he gets up at six. So it’s likely she called right after his alarm clock went off.

Tucking her phone between chin and shoulder, she turns her computer on. Settling in behind her desk and getting to work. “I was worried,” she tells him. Not sure if she’s meaning to sound mad at him for not sending his “everyone’s alive and well” letter or mad that she doesn’t know how he is. He’s thrown her off her routine. “Your last letter was nearly two weeks ago. Is everything good at home?”

Her worry bleeds into the statement but he’s too tired to feed it or make fun of it.

She can hear him huff softly, an almost laugh.

“They’re fine,” he answers softly. His voice is drowsy, “Jack’s doing well in school. Dave’s stopped hounding me about potential love suitors.” She hears the tap run, he pauses, and she can hear him splashing water on his face. “Garcia enjoyed last month’s tea flavor, what was it-- raspberry?”

She smirks, it was raspberry. Although, she doubts Garcia liked it as much as he says. She’s not a huge raspberry fan. Besides, Emily had sent that tea with one specific tea drinker in mind: him. The thing about Hotch is, he’s traditional, but he’s also complicated. That’s just Hotch for “I enjoyed the tea you sent”.

Really, she’d just wanted him to be introduced to more teas than his just his simple black tea. Be more creative. Have some fun.

“I’m glad Garcia liked the tea,” she says with a smirk. “She’s been texting me all week.” Pictures, texts, and a few Snapchat. Emily doesn’t entirely know how to use Snapchat yet but she’s getting the hang of it. “You guys being grounded is relaxing, I’m sure, but that woman’s got way too much time on her hands.” Emily shakes her head at the thought. Lovingly, of course.

“Anyways,” she runs a hand over her face and she lets out a sigh. “How is home? How are you?”

There’s a long pause on his end. All his busy movements coming to a halt. It makes her heart pick up its pace, her gut twisting. Suddenly, that knee-jerk thought, that stupid thought that something might be wrong feels true. She’s just about to say his name when his voice cuts through.

“I have cancer.”

Her first reaction is oh. At least she was right.

That is immediately followed by-- oh fuck.

“Are you…” she swallows thickly, work forgotten. “Have--” Where does she even begin?

He clears his throat, “Hodgkin's Lymphoma.” He answers without her actually having to ask. It feels to get it off his chest, literally. To tell someone. “I guess--” he makes a choked sound like the shock of this news is setting in again. “They have to put, uhm, ink to locate the right place. So, I… I have a tattoo of sorts now.”

She laughs a half-pained sound. “I’m sure Morgan doesn’t consider it to be a tattoo,” she manages around the tightness of her throat. She cringes at the thought, ink and a needle just digging into his flesh. Cancer invading his body.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment but when he does, she understands the silence.

“I haven’t told them.”

As much as she wants to be mad at him, she shouldn’t really expect anything different. He’s painfully shy and private. God knows if she hadn’t found him half-dead in the hospital after Foyet, he’d have gone as long as possible without telling them. He certainly wouldn’t have told them while still hospitalized.

It’s the same lack of forethought that goes through them, a moment of blindness. He’d felt the weight of restraints pulling his limbs down when the admissions had left his lips. She feels only conviction, “I’m coming home.”

It catches him entirely off guard.

She winces when he starts coughing. His first symptom since starting radiation. It’s a horrible sounding dry cough that makes her lungs ache just to hear.

The coughs fold him over, the force at which they leave his mouth is painful. What is it that makes coughing so painful? That’s never made much sense. It’s just air, right?

“Hotch?”

He rubs at his sternum, trying to externally soothe the muscles. “I’m okay,” he chokes. Shakily, his right-hand bears his weight as his left turns the faucet on. With his palm, he manages to sip a few mouthfuls of water. It just doesn’t stop the coughing. “I’m okay.”

She highly doubts that. There’s not a single thing about what she just heard that sounds “okay” by anyone standards-- certainly not his. “Are you going to work like this?” she asks. It’s hard to believe he’d allow himself to be seen in any state that isn’t tip-top shape. On that note, she also knows that way too good at putting on a show, and, for profilers, the team sucks at making that distinction.

The anger that evokes in him is undue. Admittedly, he overreacts. “I said I’m fine,” he barks. “I don’t need you checking in on me, Prentiss. I don’t need you here, too!” To watch. It’s bad enough, okay? That he’s going to have to tell his six-year-old son that he’s dying. Each morning a little more than the last and some days feel like he’s already half-lowered into the ground.

And the others. Reid and those sad eyes. The way Morgan won’t be able to look at him, just avert his gaze and storm out of the room. Dave’s crushing hug and JJ’s silent tears. Garcia… He can only imagine the raging in-betweens of what the news will do to her. Stress baking cookies he won’t be able to stomach. Knitting him hats, sweaters, and blankets with feverish vigor that he won’t be able to escape.

He could use one of Garcia’s love knitted blankets right about now.

Forcing himself to take a deep breath, he relaxes his tight grip on the sink. Knuckles paled and fingers aching.

“Sorry,” Emily finally manages after the long moments of silence.

Hotch hangs his head, biting his lip hard to stop the flow of emotions trying to work their way up. “No,” he rasps, thickly. He sniffles, scoffing when he rubs his eyes with the back of his wrist, finding tears. “That was… inexcusable. I’m so sorry,” he leans down, body in half as he rests his forehead against the cool porcelain of the sink.

This doesn’t even feel like his body anymore.

“Aaron?”

There are tears streaming down his face, he’s too tired to fight them off. “Hmm?”

“I’ll see you soon.”

He hums in agreeance, unable to trust his voice.

“Take it easy, okay? I love you.”

The line dies before he can hasten out a reply.

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

She’s been waiting on a reason to leave London for longer than she’s willing to admit.

Her dying friend proves to be reason enough.

Clyde has obvious mixed feelings but he can’t hold her back. He and Hotch had gotten set on the wrong foot. The rivalry between the two men is childish but endearing. Almost nothing has made her feel as loved as the proud smiles they both wear when she greets them. Clyde overwhelmingly pleased he’d won her back to London and Hotch smug she’ll travel hours to come to see him (she hadn’t done that for Clyde).

Almost nothing beats that.

“Emily!”

Her eyes are scanning the crowd before her, searching for her mismatched ragtag family. Sore thumbs, bobbing up and down in the crowd, they wave her to them. She notices he’s not there immediately.

“Princess,” Morgan sighs her name into her hair and she turns her face into his shoulder. Drawing in the strength she can feel wavering with a new wave of anxiety washing over her. It helps that they’re here. Derek’s arms wrapped around her after what feels like a lifetime away.

It’s only taken her three decades but she’s found her family and she’s not letting anything drag her away this time.

Garcia pushes at Morgan, causing a choked laugh out of them all. “Stop hogging all the Emily-lovings!”

Morgan smirks, trying to hide the relief swelling in his eyes like tears. He gets one more good look of her, eyes combing over her before parting with a sad smile. Relieved.

There’s a blur of motion. She’s pulled to each of them.

Garcia hugs like she’s trying to crush ribs and Emily lets her.

Hugging Dave brings tears to her eyes. Fuck, she’s missed them.

“Don’t make me chase you,” Emily threatens when she spots Reid near the edge. Pulling him close she rests her head against his shoulder, happy when he squeezes her back. “I’ve missed you, boy wonder.” Her genius. Just as scrawny as when she left him. She doesn’t want to do that again anytime soon.

Dave claps his hands together, grabbing one of the three bags she’d dropped. “Let’s get lunch, kiddos. We can talk about London.” He winks at Emily and she knows that this is going to spin into a conversation about potential love interests. She hasn’t had love on the brain in a while.

London… not everything she wishes it was. Cold and rainy. Relentlessly.

For the first month, she was over there, all she wanted was to come home. She just kept waiting for the rain to ease up. Then there should be that wet, hot humidity that clings to everything. She’d hated that before but now she’d just give anything to have it. For Reid to drag her out for coffee and the sun to bring out the chipper inflection in Garcia’s voice.

How the sun looked on Jack and Henry’s little head when she’d run around the park with them.

Fuck London, she’s just glad to be home.

“So,” she’s allowed them their fill of questions. Things about INTERPOL and if she’s still leaning heavily on take out food or if she’s managed even the faintest bit of finesse concerning cooking (she hasn’t). Leaning onto her elbows, she asks the question that’s been bugging her for hours. “Where’s Hotch?”

Dave leans back in his chair and JJ’s the first to crack. Of course, her poker face just isn’t that great. Her eyes move to Dave, concern written across her face. They might not know but it’s not that hard to figure out they know something isn’t right.

Reid shifts uncomfortably, averting his eyes, and focus.

“Your guess is as good as ours,” Dave informs her. He settles back in his chair, arms crossing on his chest. “He’s…” he sighs tiredly. For a moment he just shakes his head. Rubbing a hand over the coarse hair on his face and then rubbing at his eyes. “He’s Aaron,” Dave mumbles. “Complicated and… reserved.” He looks at her now, zeroed in on just her. Just them.

Her heart races at just the thought of them knowing.

JJ clears her throat. She distracts her worry with rubbing her nail at the glass. “He says he’s at meetings,” she tells Emily. “Says--” she shakes her head, flustered. Upset. Pulling in a breath, she shakes softly as it comes in. “Every day, he sends me an update email. Just a list of things he expects to get done for the day or places he might be.” JJ tucks a strand of her hair back from her face. “Our jobs circle around each other, a lot. It makes my life easier if I can find him without running all over the place.”

Morgan turns his head, away from the conversation. Wishing to be uninvolved but unable to escape.

“He’s lying,” JJ concludes. She worries her lip with her teeth. “His lists are…” her eyebrows furrow as she struggles to say exactly what she means. “Last week,” she says with a nod, having come up with her perfect example. “He said he’d be in a meeting. Didn’t tell me where, he always tells me where.” Her eyes scan over the table, looking for more. “Something’s wrong and he won’t tell us.”

Morgan huffs, shifted now so that his arms are wrapped tightly around himself. His legs crossed, even. Distant. “I don’t see why we don’t just let him be.” His tone betrays what he’s really feeling. That anger and the vulnerability. His words are reflexive. He’s always pushed away when things get tough.

Emily wants to rise to his defense or to say anything but she can’t.

“Reid went into his office yesterday--”

Reid flinches. The memory or the feeling, he draws himself in. Shielding himself from whatever is being said.

Garcia looks down at her lap.

“He was asleep at his desk,” Dave finishes, despite seeing just how uncomfortable Garcia and Reid look. “Out like a-- Asleep like he hadn’t rested in a while. It took-- I had to shake him awake. He was warm to the touch and shaking.” Dave looks down to the table. “Shaking. He was weak and I’d known,” he looks up, frowning sadly. “I’d known something was wrong before but whatever is, we’ve got to get to the bottom of it.”

The bottom of it… God, they’re going to be devastated.

Lunch brightens. It’s forced to when the conversation shifts to the children. To Henry starting fourth grade and Jack’s in middle school now. Since when did those babies grow up?

Sooner than maybe she’s ready for it, she has to leave them. She’s too tired, too jet-lagged.

And maybe… Maybe she’s ready to bother Hotch. To reacquaint herself with his grumpy, silent nature. Isn’t it silly to think she’d hated him once?

Now she knows where his house keys are hidden.

The key hits the lock and she realizes how this might not be as great of a plan as she had planned it to be. “Hotch,” she calls into the dark. She peaks around, hoping if he’s home he’s not on edge. She’s seen him hypervigilant, she knows this is an awful plan. Even calling ahead might not have been enough. So, it’s more than brave for her to just come barging in.

She puts her back near the coat rack, still hunched into herself in case he comes barreling around the corner. He doesn’t. “Aaron?” His car is out front, despite the darkness of the room suggesting the house is empty. The blinds are drawn shut, blocking all-natural light into the house. The air is cool. “Aaron if you’re here please, please don’t shoot me.”

Shutting the door behind her, she progresses into the living room. The creaking of floorboards draws her attention to the other side of the house and she spots him.

He comes around the corner of the hall, from the direction of his room. Tired eyes move up to find her, his lip quirks into half a smile. “Emily,” he greets under his breath. He’d heard the door open but the binds weighing his wrist and ankles to the bed had been too much for him to lift. Pained and slowed, he’d made his way to figure out who was home.

Certain it’s not Jack, he should have had a little more trepidation about coming out here to investigate.

She approaches him slowly, soaking in every line and angle of his body. The way he’s favoring his right side is a new thing but the crescent moons under his eyes are a comforting familiarity. Pulling in a breath, she drags her eyes all the way up to him. He’s lost some weight and it just makes his cheekbones that much more hauntingly sharp. It draws attention to the scars on his face, thin and aged.

With a smile, she shakes her head at him. “Just as ugly as when I left,” she informs him.

He smiles tiredly, sighing at her playful taunt. It makes the hug she pulls him into relieving. The aches and chills he’s felt all day lessen as she wraps her arms around him. Something about the way her hand cups the back of his neck while the other rubs his up along his spine.

She’s standing on the tips of her toes, stretching to get to him. He leans down into her, closing his eyes. She just holds him that much closer. Against her, she can feel the beating of his heart. The way his nerves had amped his heart rate up and now, as the beat slows, the way he calms under her touch.

“How are you?” she asks quietly. They pull apart and she feels the absence of his warmth immediately.

He pulls in a weak breath, one he lets out a strangled cough. Shakes his head and offers a shrug. “I’m okay,” he assures her.

She doesn’t fail to notice how his right hand shakily reaches out to steady him against the wall. They’ve never agreed on the definition of okay and, so, it’s not that surprising they wouldn’t now.

Burying a cough into the elbow of his arm, he starts to tremble. His breathing takes a heavy quality as he stands there. It takes only a moment for him to draw himself up to his full height, swallowing down against the pain and forcing his body to bend to his will. If she didn’t know better, nothing would look wrong at all.

“Can I get you anything,” he asks, clenching his teeth to keep steady despite how exhausted he feels. “How long are you staying?” He knows she won’t actually answer that first question, so he steps by her and lets her follow him into the kitchen. Hyper-aware of the way he moves his body. Trying to look normal instead of stiff.

She follows him, watching for clues in the slips of his armor. One of the many benefits of having known him so long and knowing him well is that he can’t get much past her. “I’m staying for as long as I’m welcome,” she replies. It’s better than the truth, that she’s staying until he’s better.

He appreciates her choice of wording even if the truth is still there underneath it all. Leaving him the burden of the situation, which is considerably worse.

He sticks with a simple hum of understanding, knowing she’ll understand it as such. “Staying where,” he asks. Suspecting he already knows the answer. “Here?” He fills two glasses with water, desperate to soothe his dry mouth. Turning to her, he offers the first glass.

She accepts the glass without comment. “I didn’t think about where,” she lies, smirking over the glass rim at him. He shakes his head but doesn't comment. “Here would be good though.” She looks up at him and he shakes his head with a smile. “It would!” she defends. “I know you miss me and I could help around with Jack. If you won’t admit to it, I know he will.” Her smile twists mischievously, “besides, he’s my favorite Hotchner and I’ll make time to spend with him regardless of where I stay.”

He shakes his head but he’s already formulating how to move the guest room around to accommodate her. There’s not much in there. A bed with some regular looking sheets and two or three boxes of random things.

Putting her glass down on the counter she sighs. “We don’t need to worry about that right now.” Nodding her head back towards the hall she says, “you look miserable. Go to bed.”

He realizes that while she was talking he’s slowly started leaning more and more on the counter. Accumulating a lean to ease the aches wracking his body. She’s right. He looks miserable because he is. He’s exhausted.

“Do you need to take any medication?”

He shakes his head, not letting it bother him when she tucks herself against his side. Allowing him to lean into her. He doesn't but the warmth her body brings is pleasant enough to keep him going.

He took everything he needed this morning. The medicine for the radiation rash he’s developed across his chest, the preventative pills for the fibrosis that might build in his lungs because of the radiation, and a whole other list of things he can’t really remember. He just has the bottles on his nightstand and knows that most require two dosages.

His bed is warm and soft, his eyes closing against his will. Logically, he knows he shouldn’t let her see him like this. This is his battle and he doesn’t want to burden anyone else with it. There’s a comfort in sharing, though. Rather it be the brush of her fingers on his forehead, pushing back his crazy or the kiss she presses to his temple before whispering “get some sleep, Hotch”.

And, honestly, he’s tired of being alone.

“Emily?”

She turns in the doorway.

“Thank you.”

Someone has to be here. She wants to be here. “You’d do the same for me.”

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

Legs crossed, hair pulled into a half-assed knot atop her head she watches him curiously. He’s up an hour later than she’d expected. No coffee to go along with the egg he has for breakfast. Between them, they have an entire morning spent without nearly a word. Just a simple, “do you want an egg?”

He gets ready but not for work.

“What’re you doing?”

She gets ready too. For what, she’s not sure, but she’s interested none-the-less. Even if she thinks she knows the answer. It’s very interesting, she thinks, to step into the living room and find him staring dumbly back at her. No, not interesting. It’s fun.

Stepping around him, she pulls her coat off the rack. “Isn’t it obvious,” she asks, slipping her feet into the boots. “I’m coming with you.”

Flannel and jeans aren’t his typical go to but it’s a relaxed look. One she finds she doesn't hate.

He crosses his arms on his chest, eyebrows furrowed and a stern frown in place. Startlingly in control for a man she watched choke down half an egg before calling it quits. He hadn’t even had coffee. Now he shifts his weight, left to right. “Emily this isn’t--” he just stands with his mouth open. After a moment he shakes his head. “You don’t want to come.”

So it is treatment.

She pulls her jacket tight around her shoulders and without comment pulls his down too, offering it to him.

He takes it with a sigh, shaking his head, but pulling the sleeves over his flannel. With a sigh, he grabs his keys off the counter. He points a finger at her, looking every bit the father scolding a troublemaking child. “You’re not coming inside the hospital. It’ll be an hour. You’ll drive someplace else. I’ll text you when it’s done.”

She smirks, pleased she’s won this round. Placing two fingers to her temple, she gives him a mocking salute. “Aye-aye captain!” Today, she won’t push. He’s come this far, weeks into his therapy. If he needs some time, then he needs time. Just so long as he knows she’s here now.

Leaving him is harder than she anticipated.

She takes his seat, half-listening as he stands at the door.

“There an outlet about five minutes North,” he says. He watches her move the seat around. Trying to drag the seat closer to the steering wheel so she can actually reach the pedals. “It’ll give you something to do. There’s a bookshop up there too. I-- I take Jack there.” He runs a hand over his hair. “A coffee shop and a smoothie stand and--”

She catches sight of the grey through his hair. Looking away, she clenches her jaw. Worry the edge of the steering wheel. “Aaron,” she finally stops him. “I can take care of myself for an hour. I’m a big girl.”

He shakes his head, ducking to so she can’t see the blush creep up his cheek. “Right,” he manages. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

She nods, “an hour.” She waits until she can’t see him. Those doors closing behind him. Swallowing him whole. It’s just an hour.

She was gone for an entire year. More than that really. Years. What are years to a single hour?

The coffee shop is quant. She can imagine him here. Tucked away within the stacks of books. Reid would like it here. The covers are old but, she thinks with a smile, he’d find something, not to date. Seeking a classic and turning away when it’s not in its original translation. That’s where Garcia has always been his balance. She’d pull him from a rant and sit him down with a cup of tea.

How had Emily ever left them?

Her hands tremble as she runs a finger over those old book backs. Mostly, she wonders what Hotch must be thinking. Heaven or hell. If all the work they’ve put into this job will account for anything at all in the end.

If it’ll hurt.

Her phone goes off. Done. Simple enough.

“I brought you a smoothie!” She’s got his sunglasses on when she pulls up. Not even offering to get out of the driver’s side.

He’s hurting more than he cares to admit. Tired and the rash on his chest burns. Seeing her pull up, he’s glad she doesn’t do more than hook her finger into the sunglasses and peer over their edge at him. Climbing into the car he takes one look at the smoothie and shakes his head. It’s dark green and even if he were hungry he’s sure that isn’t very good. “No thank you,” he mumbles, leaning back into the seat. He tilts his head against the rest.

She’s not really in the mood for arguments. More so, he’s just gotten out of treatment and all he’s had is an egg. “You’ll drink it,” she informs him, putting the car in drive. “Maybe not now but eventually.”

He grunts. Doubt that. If he’s going to manage to stomach anything, it’s not going to be that. Besides, he’d got plans: take a nap. That slowly goes down the drain.

Emily turns up the radio, humming along to a song he doesn’t recognize.

Turning his head, he watches her drive. He hasn’t told her yet but he’s very thankful she’s come back. Even if he’s slightly tainted the return with… She’s here taking over his life. Worming her way into his spare bedroom. Force-feeding him weird green smoothies. He doubts she’ll stop there.

“Hotch?” He doesn’t wake up when she shuts the car off. From there on, she’s gentle. Careful as she extracts herself from the car. “Aaron,” she rubs his shoulder.

He pulls in a small breath, turning slowly to her. Half-lidded eyes find her, confused.

When they left the house he’d looked better. Better than now. Not so exhausted.

“You fell asleep,” she informs him, backing up as he sits up. He has to use the seat to get there but he makes it happen. She waits back for him, letting him take his time getting out of the car. All while holding that damn smoothie she’s convinced she’s going to make him drink.

He’s rubbing the sleep from his eyes when his phone goes off in his pocket. She turns at the door, waiting. He motions her on with a wave, taking the call. “Agent Hotchner speaking.”

She stops for a moment to watch him pull in the whole persona. Not Aaron who just fell asleep in the car but Hotch the rock. It’s sad, really, how quickly the one consumes the other.

She’s reading on the couch when he comes in.

He doesn’t say anything as he slips past, going back towards his room. He comes right back out. The loosely buttoned flannel is forgotten, replaced by a suit across his thin shoulders. Once, those suits had pronounced the sharpness of his body. The way his shoulders sit strong and straight. Now, that jacket doesn’t even look like it belongs to him.

“Where are you going?”

He only glances at her, ducking his head back to the task at hand-- putting on shoes.

She gets up off the couch, flipping the book text down. “Aaron,” she comes around the side. “You can’t go out there.” To work. It’s not healthy to go out there. He had fallen asleep on the ride home, not even twenty minutes ago. He won’t manage out there.

He turns to her as she steps into the room, scowl in place and a look of indifference pulled between them. All the protection he can garner for himself. “It’s not up for debate,” he replies. As if this is out of his control. He just can’t help but think it would be easier this way. It would hurt less, dying out there. A coherent death. He’d feel it. Quick and overwhelming.

But coherent. He’d know.

Not in a hospital. More machine than man. Unable to speak or too weak to think.

It would be better to die a hero.

“Aaron,” she calls, he’s just walking away. “You’re being unreasonable.” She wants to scream. To shout at him or grab him the collar of that oversized dress shirt and shake him. Force him to realize that he’s being stupid. Does he think she’s stupid? They both know this is self-destruction. Skipping treatment. Going into the field. All for this stupid image that he’s convinced himself is necessary. For who? Huh?

It’s better to suffer around people you love than to have them bury you. The only burden is the weight of your casket across their shoulders.

He turns, teeth clenched. Jaw set. “Am I?” he asks. His face has darkened, his cheekbones drawing his cheeks in. “I’m going,” he informs her, “regardless of whatever it is you have to say.”

He won’t look at her. That’s how she knows that no matter how illogical he’s being, he knows exactly what he’s doing. Back turned to her, he stops for just a moment. He knows this isn’t what he should. That this is neither his best option nor the right choice. Still, he opens the door. Stepping out he turns his head, eyes cast to the side. “I--” he shakes his head, he doesn’t know.

Before he can shut the door she calls his name out, fear overriding the anger. “Aaron,” she clenches her fists at her side. “Please be safe.”

His adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows thickly. Glancing at her, he nods his head. At least he has the decency not to lie to her. To pretend this is anything but foolish and a death wish. He shuts the door behind himself without another word.

Leaving her standing there.

Waiting.

She’ll still be waiting that night when Reid calls her. Incoherent.

“I-- I don’t know what’s wrong Emily! He won’t-- He’s bleeding and I--I… He said to call you.”

She shouldn’t have let him leave.

@laiba-the-person, @emily-hottie-prentiss, @unionjackpillow, @clockedstar, @baumarvel, @blakeprentiss, @qvid-pro-qvo, @aaron-hotchner187, @ssalavellan

#tw cancer #haha assholes #I bet you thought I wouldn't hit you with a cliffhanger #emily is super involved in this chapter but the next chapter has lot more of the team in it #aaron hotchner hiding medical issues like he would #stubborn ass #you gotta love him tho #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #emily prentiss #derek morgan #david rossi #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #spencer reid #bau

98 notes · View notes

sevlgi · 4 years

Text

patient

requested: yes

group: mamamoo

pairing: hwasa x fem!reader

genre: fluff

contents: tattoo artist!hwasa, flustered!reader [15/33]

warnings: none

synopsis: It’s hard for you to be patient about your next tattoo session when your artist is so damn gorgeous.

a/n: um??? I love tattoo aus???? also don’t come at me for the name, I’m not creative

word count: 1.9k

“Elegant Chaos.”

You test the name out on your tongue, staring up at the slightly grimy neon sign of the shop. The entire front is one-way glass, so all you can see is your own reflection and the ones of the people bustling around you.

Before you can make up a decision to open the door to the store or not, someone else does; a pretty brunette woman steps out and smiles at you, crazy beautiful with full lips and crescent-eyes. “Hi. Can I help you?”

“Uh, yeah.” You show her the printed-out address your friend sent you and step a bit closer. “Is this a tattoo shop? I searched the address up but nothing resulted, I was referred by a friend.”

She barely takes a glance at the address before flashing another bright grin. “Oh, yep! This is our tattoo shop, we opened a couple months ago. It’s weird that we’re still not showing up, but oh, well. Want to come in?”

You barely register her quick words but step into the shop after her, the smell of rubbing alcohol, paper, and perfume vaguely stinging your nose. “I’m Solar, the receptionist,” she introduces, walking behind what you presume to be her desk. Out front, some teenagers talk quietly, a tall, dark-haired boy with a sleeve sipping at a banana milk.

“Cool. Uh, I’m Y/N. I don’t have an appointment, is that okay?”

Solar nods, tapping at her phone. “Sure. Jungkook over there is just waiting for Byul to finish her other client, and Wheein is prepping to pierce the kids. Hwasa’s our best artist, anyway, does that sound good?”

Her question startles you from staring at the intricate sketches taped all over the walls, the same 3 signatures stamped everywhere. “What?”

She laughs, though it’s not rude. “We have one artist left, Hwasa, but since you’re referred, you probably don’t have someone in mind, right? You can go to see her now, she’s free.”

“Great. Do I just...?” At Solar’s nod, you walk past her and into the back. The studio’s quite small, to be honest; there are 4 stations, two of them occupied. One of them, who you guess is Byul, is tattooing an elderly man, her sleeves rolled up to reveal the art on her bicep.

The second, probably Wheein, is wiping down her tools, and she’s the first to notice you. “Hi!” she grins, turning the music blasting from the radio down with her ungloved hand. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah. Solar mentioned that I should come find Hwasa,” you explain, eyes widening at the complicated art being tattooed on the elderly man. “Are you...?”

“No, I’m Wheein.” Ah, so you were right. “This is Byul, she’s a bit preoccupied,” Wheein smiles, dimples poking into her cheeks. “I’ll get Hye- sorry, Hwasa for you.”

She hurries out to the back, and you can hear talking through the open door, before she comes back, the woman you presume to be Hwasa behind her.

Instantly, you’re starstruck; she’s stunning in a way that’s completely unique, long dark hair and tanned skin contrasting beautifully. The only makeup she wears is a bold red lipstick, her tank top showing the delicate tattoos she has. “Hey, I’m Hwasa,” she greets, sticking her hand out. Her nails are long, too.

“Y/N.” You accept the handshake, trying not to stare. “Uh, Solar said you were free for a consultation?”

“Yeah.” She sits at one of the free stations, clearing the things scattered on the table. “So, what’re you looking for? Do you already have a design chosen or am I freehanding?”

You fumble in your bag for a piece of paper, sliding it over to Hwasa. “Um, this is just something my friend drew up for me. I want it pretty small, on my forearm.”

The dark-haired woman shrugs, unfolding the paper. “I could do that. Is this your first tattoo?”

Nodding, you watch as Hwasa taps her long, red-painted nails on the desk. “Okay. Is this part of a sleeve or by itself?”

“Uh, how long would each one take?” To be honest, you have no idea why you said that; you didn’t consider a sleeve at all, though you considered multiple tattoos or a large one. There’s just something about the other woman that makes it impossible for you to think.

She considers the question before answering, “Depends on the size and how many small ones you want to work in for the sleeve, but I’d recommend a separate session for each small square, so maybe 8 or 10. I’ll be done with this in less than 30 minutes, though, if it’s just the one.”

To be honest, the only thing causing you to consider a sleeve is getting to see Hwasa again, and you curse your own attraction to her when you blurt, “Maybe a sleeve? I have to think about the other ones I want to work in, though.”

“Okay. I can just do the one today, and we can schedule another day for you to come in and design the whole thing,” she offers, picking the sketch up. “I’ll go make this into a stencil, then.”

“Sure.”

When she takes the sketch and walks to the back room, you slump down in the chair and pivot to look at the others. You quickly realize how long you were talking with Hwasa; Byul is already working on the coconut-haired boy, and Wheein is already done with the teenagers.

She seems to be the outgoing type, and waves at you while sanitizing her needles and packing her kit up again. “So, how did it go? Are you going to start today?”

“I am, yep. You’re already done with the kids?”

Wheein nods, placing the studs back into their cases. “Yep. They just wanted more lobe piercings, it’s really easy. I’m a tattoo artist, too, but I think the kids like me more. Except for Jungkook over here, they think Byul’s intimidating.”

“I’m not!” the other woman protests, hands still steady as she works on the boy. Her voice is deeper than you’d expect. “You literally call me a hamster.”

Flapping a hand, Wheein flashes you her dimples again. “So, what do you think of Hwasa?”

“Huh?” you blink, brain basically short-circuiting. “Uh, she’s a good artist? I saw some of her sketches, yours too; you’re all really talented.”

“No, no, that’s not what I mean. Wait, you’re not straight, are you?” she narrows her eyes at you, scanning you from head to toe. “Maybe my sense is broken, I didn’t peg you for a...”

“I’m not. Straight. I’m a lesbian.” Your cheeks burn to say it aloud, though nobody really reacts, not even Jungkook. “Are you?”

Wheein shrugs, “I mean, I’m attracted to women. All 4 of us are- Hyejin, Byul, Yongsun. Solar, to you. And we make sure everyone who comes in is accepting, we won’t serve bigots.”

For whatever reason, you’re almost relieved to hear that Hwasa’s also attracted to women in some sense, even though it doesn’t necessarily mean that she’s attracted to you. “Oh. That’s cool.”

“Yeah. So, is it just one tattoo or a sleeve?” Her knowing smile puts you off a bit; how did she figure it out? “A lot of girls who come in here change their original idea because of Hyejin-ah. You’re obviously attracted to her, to, so it’s no surprise.”

“Is it really that obvious?” you groan, surprising yourself with how open you’re being about it. “Do you think she knows?”

“Probably,” Wheein giggles, nodding when Solar pokes her head in the studio to tell her something. “Anyway. I’ve got to go, good luck!”

She waves as she leaves, the only noise left in the studio being the quiet music and Jungkook’s quiet talking. He seems just as awkward as you are, lifting his free hand in a half wave.

You’re saved by Hwasa returning with a stencil. “Here. Does that look good?”

She’s modified the original design just the tiniest bit, making the lines a little bit darker and the shading simpler, and it looks... “Perfect.” You grin, a weight on your chest lifted by your conversation with Wheein. “Should we start?”

“Sure.” She brings you over to one of the actual tattoo stations, the seat already smelling sanitized. You can barely listen as she explains what the process will be like- cleaning, the actual tattooing, pain; you finally come to when she asks, “Are you ready?”

“I... yeah. I am.”

It’s quiet until the buzzing of the tattoo gun brings you to life, the tiniest bit of fear sour on your tongue. Hwasa looks concentrated as she peels the stencil off, not exactly reassuring, either. “So. Is there a meaning behind this?”

“Uh, not really. Are there meanings behind yours?” You gasp when the needle first touches your skin, the cold wipe taking off excess ink.

“I have some matching tattoos with Wheein,” Hwasa explains, smiling at the mention of the other girl. “Uh, one is Maria, my Christian name. Wheein has more, but all of us have some kind of meaning behind ours. It’s not bad to have no meaning, though.”

You wince as she continues with the linework, slowly getting used to the pain. “Are you and Wheein...”

She looks up, raising an eyebrow. “Together? No, we’re best friends. I haven’t been with someone in a few years.”

“What’s stopping you?”

Hwasa laughs, wiping your arm once again. “Nothing, I guess. I’m just patient enough to wait for the right person.”

“Patient. Right.”

Conversation flows smoothly, mostly light topics. You learn each other’s ages, and you’re told to call Hwasa ‘Hyejin’ instead. You learn when she got her first tattoo, and when she learned to tattoo others. The more you talk, the more drawn in you are, fascinated by her every word.

The half an hour is over far too fast. “Done,” she announces, smiling as she turns off her gun. “Take a look.”

It looks gorgeous, as expected, though Hwasa plays off your barrage of compliments. “Uh, should I pay now?”

She shrugs, placing saran wrap over your arm. “We’ll go talk with Solar about that, she’s better with pricing than I am. But it probably won’t be much.”

“What? Why?” you frown, examining the tattoo. Usually, discounts only happen when something goes wrong, or you have a coupon. You’re pretty sure neither of those things apply.

Hwasa pauses, turning to send you a small smirk. “Well, the cute ones usually pay less.”

Your heart practically stops, though you force yourself to walk to the front with her. “Besides, you’re probably coming back again soon, right?”

“Oh! Uh, yeah. I think so. When will that be? The next session, I mean.”

She frowns, tapping at the tablet Solar hands her. “You can come in as soon as you’re free to design it, if you want, but you have to wait a bit for the next session, especially if you’re doing the things close together. If you want, I can give you my number.”

At your stricken expression, Hwasa’s lips curve into a knowing smile. “So you can send me ideas, for the sleeve.”

“Ah, of course.” Your cheeks burn as you take out your cash, counting out a surprisingly small amount. “That sounds good. I guess I’ll just have to be patient, then.”

“I guess so. Call me, Y/N,” she smiles, handing your phone back with a new contact in.

Being patient is going to be so damn hard.

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ominouslyqueer · 4 years

Text

The doll was a bit of an oddity among the daycare employees. The kids loved it, which in and of itself could be considered odd, but then again kids will latch on to the weirdest, creepiest things with ease, their minds not yet filled with horror stories about dolls with sunken eyes and faded skin, who seem to stare as you walk around the room. They just saw a vessel to play, and its looks didn't really factor in too much, especially at that age. Kids are going to be kids, and so they don't notice when the employees avoid touching the doll, or being in the same room if they can help it.

It's of little surprise that the employees are not so welcoming to the doll. If it weren't for the fact that the kids adored it (and that had led to several talks about sharing when that love caused conflicts on whose turn it was), they'd have chucked it a long time ago.A few of the oldest employees remembered when it arrived, in its own box among the several that came from the big, old house up on the hill.

Apparently it was passed down from one child to the next, until family line died out and it was left sitting on an empty bed, found by a distant cousin who came to collect their inheritance. The toys were boxed up, the more antique ones sold, and the rest sent to the local daycare where they could be enjoyed once more. Most were a hit, but the doll was special, seeming to connect with every child in a way that drove many to tears when they had to leave her at the end of the day. Another factor that led the employees to do little beyond sitting her in her designated corner during cleanup before doing their best to ignore her completely.

Of course, there would have to be more to explain their feelings for the doll, that for many only barely fell below true fear. The doll possessed many qualities about it, watching eyes, an uneasy grin, hair that no matter what would always end up back in the neat, tight braid. But this was not enough to unsettle them, no, that would be what happened during the night. Because no matter what the doll underwent during the day, the rough play causing lost arms or legs, chunks or hair or even once the button eyes, by the following morning she would once more be in her pristine, creepy glory. At one point they had tried to take her from the building, but again she had appeared, the employee who had taken her home confused and unwilling to even touch her again after that.

They had been worried for the kids, keeping an eye out for anything strange. They had come to the conclusion that some form of spirit was present, and the more religious ones worried that it could be demonic. At one point they had tried an exorcism even, but the same things kept occurring anyways.

The kids didn't notice anything amiss, just continuing to play with her until her fabric skin was worn right through and her stuffing spread across the floor, only to wind up all in one piece the next morning. She never seemed to do anything to the kids themselves, and no parent ever complained of nightmares or whatever other influences such a presence may have had. So, the majority of them decided that whatever was present was simply benign, and for whatever reason wished to spend their eternity with the chaos that is a room full of toddlers. The few who truly feared her managed to ignore her, though their hands were never far from any religious or spiritual items for protection.

That day hadn't been unusual in any way. The kids arrived, bringing with them their endless energy and desire for play. There were laughs, cries, tears, snacks, a single full-on breakdown from a particularly upset kid, and a thoroughly exhausted set of employees by the time the kids went home. That day had had a senior employee and two juniors, who were waved away by their superior when time to clean up. He enjoyed the calmness that followed the storm of children leaving the building, and cleaning was always more of a ritual than a chore. He wouldn't do it every night, but at least once a week he would take the chance to simply go about his duties alone, taking the time and care that showed just how long he had been doing this.

He was one of the oldest employees there, having arrived just after the infamous doll herself. He had quickly become a favorite, always calm and collected around the kids, but always quick with a smile or a joke for anyone who wanted to hear it. He had had many opportunities to rise above his role as caretaker, but he liked his job, and so he stayed put. He'd even met his wife here, one of the kids' mothers who laughed at even the worst of his jokes. It had helped that her daughter had loved him already from meeting with him each day. Now, she was entering college, and he was where he always was.

Slowly but surely, he makes his way through the small building. He cleans up the kitchen, the bathroom and the lobby, picking his way through the building as he wipes up spills and puts away books and toys. He clears up the yard outside, making sure the fence is still latched tightly shut. Once a child had managed to slip through, and it had been a stressful half hour before he had been found, playing under a tree calmly with the doll. He told them she had said to stay put before he ran further, and so he did. That itself had caused some more worries and weird feelings about the toy, but since it seemed she had been helpful overall, nothing more was said.

He enters the toy room last, always the final part of his cleaning routine. Immediately his eyes are drawn to her. She made it through the day mostly intact, the only flaw a small rip in her left leg. He cleans up the other toys, before moving to her, delicately picking up the small bits of stuffing that had fallen to the floor before lifting her too. He sits at the desk, the only adult-sized piece of furniture in the room, and sits her down on top of it so she's facing him. Carefully, he starts poking the stuffing back into her leg, a soft smile on his face as he does.

"It wasn't too bad again today. This bunch seem to be learning for the most part to be more careful."

For a moment his words just hang in the air, only silence answering him. He doesn't worry though, content to wait as he continues his work. It's about half a minute later when, between one blink and the next, there's a woman leaning on the desk besides him. She's tall, though barely taller than he is, a fact that he pointed out to her countless times. At first glance she seemed solid, but he knew how to catch the slight wavering of her form, as though her hold on this plane was slightly wavering.

He didn't look up, focusing still on making sure that all the pieces were returned to their proper place, but he knew if he did he'd be met with a smiling face and sparkling brown eyes that seemed far too alive to be a part of the spirit they were attached to. A small laugh rings out from beside him, and he lets his smile broaden until its a full grin.

"Well they always do once they've been here long enough. I've no doubt you have some influence in that."

Her voice is warm, matching her gaze as he finally turns to meet it. Her hair is in the usual braid, the silvering brown curling down her back. She's about fifty, dressed in jeans and a flowery blouse that flows around her, moved by a wind he cannot feel. She is lit from within with a blue glow, the only thing that truly marks her as otherworldly. Still, he is surprised at just how human she looks, and that thought lets him return his eyes to the work at hand.

"Well someone needs to teach them. Not everything in this world is as forgiving as you are when they play too roughly." He reaches into the drawer beside him, where his faithful sewing kit lays waiting. He picks a needle and thread, and begins sewing shut the small tear. Any trace of it will be gone by morning of course, but he hopes that doing this will at least help at reducing the amount of energy required to make that happen.

She lays a hand on his shoulder, though as always he barely feels the touch. Still, he doesn't hesitate to cover it with his own, feeling as though at any second his hand will fall through hers. It holds steady though, and they smile at each other.

"You are always so good to them, a fact that I have always loved. David seems to have especially been taken with you this year, the boy follows you around like a lost duckling. I'm pretty sure he's trying to copy your every move."

"Well I don't mind it much, he's a nice kid. It helps that he's never been too rough with you, or any of the other toys." Taking back his hand, he quickly finishes off the stitches, tying the red thread tight. He makes sure the doll is still stable in its sitting position, before standing up, moving to lean besides her. It makes talking easier, and even if he excuses it with complaints about stiff knees from sitting too long, he likes being able to talk to her again face-to-face.

"Well you can't hold it against them if they cause a few tears or scrapes, be it on us or themselves. They're kids, they are going to learn the way they learn most things, through clumsy and dedicated experiments with the world and all that's in it." She laughs, the sound floating throughout the room. "Do you remember that one girl, Emma? She was so curious about how everything was built, and every piece that went into it. I thought you were going to cry when you found her after she'd pulled every piece of me apart. I think that was the sternest you've ever been with anyone."

"Well I certainly didn't want that happening again, though I know you don't mind. It was more just letting her know that she shouldn't do that with other people's possessions that being upset with her for doing it at all." He shrugged. "I spoke with her parents too, and they were sure to supply her with a surplus of toys specifically to pull apart to keep her happy."

"Of course you did, I'm not surprised."

He feels his face heat up at her words, as well as the overwhelmingly soft look on her face. She reaches a hand up to cup his cheek, and even if it's barely there he leans into it.

"You always did your best to make sure everyone was happy and safe."

Pulling the hand away after a moment, she seems content to simply sit in silence, the two of them just enjoying being together. It is only when he is once again reminded of the constant question in his mind that he finds himself speaking once more, the calm night giving him the push that he'd needed to give voice to it.

"Why have you stayed, all these years? It takes so much of your energy to fix yourself almost every night, and at times you seem so tired that it is hard to watch. So... why?"

She doesn't answer right away, though his question clearly doesn't surprise her. She seems to mull over his words, picking the right ones to say in response. Finally, she sighs, the sound happy and calm as she meets his eyes once more.

"The children... they feel so strongly, you know? The happiness, sadness, anger, fear, it's all so new to them so when it happens it encompasses all that they are. Either the world is wonderful, or it's terrifying, and there's no in between. The way that they love is exactly that." She runs a hand through her hair, the few that had fallen free from her braid tangling slightly around her fingers.

"They love with everything that they are, and even if that love comes with tears and worn through holes and lost eyes I find that I can't just leave it behind. I was broken when Alison and I found out children weren't in our future, but being around the kids here, it helps. It's fixing the hole that's existed within me for as long as I can remember. Maybe one day it will be enough, and I will be able to move on. But for now... I find I don't want to go."

She seems lost in thought for a time, and he just leaves her to it, his own mind taking in all she had told him. He's drawn out of it when she nudges him in the side, the melancholy look that had taken over her face while she spoke replaced with the usual soft smile.

"Of course, you being here helps." She ruffles his hair, despite his half-hearted protests. "It always has, you know that."

"Doesn't hurt to hear it though." He jokes, pushing the wayward curls back into some form of order.

She grins, though it fades after a moment and she seems to hesitate. When the words do come, he's surprised by the trepidation that lines her tone, as though she is unsure whether she wants to know the answer.

"Erik, I feel like I should ask you the same thing. You have a life, unlike some, and there are so many things you could be doing with it. I know you love the children here as much as I do, but to stay here for all these years? Why?" Her voice wavers near the end, and though they do not fall he can see her eyes are bright with tears. He quickly reaches for her hand, enfolding it in between his as he ducks his head to catch her gaze from where she had averted it. It's only when she's looking at him that he answers, trying to fill his voice with all the love he felt for her in that moment.

"Well, part of it is as you said. I love the kids, and everyone here, they make my days so full of joy and laughter. But," He pauses, making sure she's listening. "A big part of why I came here in the first place is you, you know. I chose to make my life here because you wanted to stay."

She opens her mouth, undoubtedly to protest, but he lifts a hand to stop her.

"That doesn't mean I was forced to, or that you are holding me back from the life I could have had. I love it here, and I love you, and I chose to make my life into what it is now. Maybe I could be somewhere else, doing something that isn't this. But even if that would have made me happy, it doesn't change the fact that I am already so happy here, with you, and with the kids." He sighs, looking down at their joined hands. "Maisie and I talked long and hard about all of this, you know that. The finances are stable and Bea is nice and happy at her school. Especially now that she's all grown, I love the time that I spend here, the kids fill my life with purpose, and the fact that you're here too just makes that purpose even greater."

Now the tears do fall, slightly glowing as they roll down her cheeks, and she lets go of his hands only to throw her arms around him. He welcomes the embrace, happy to just let her cry.

Though she had had no children of her own, no one to give the doll that had been given to her by her own mother, she had doted on him growing up. His mother and her were closer than sisters, though not related by blood, and he had grown up running through the old halls of the house up on the hill. When she had passed, he had been heartbroken, which was made worse when he discovered that the doll that had meant the world to her had just been given away by the distant cousin who now owned the home.

He had worked hard to track it down, but when he had found her he had learned of how happy she made the kids. So, instead of taking her away, he decided instead to stay. It had only taken a week for him to discover she wasn't actually gone, having nearly passed out from shock when she first appeared to him one night when he was the only one left in the building. However, that shock quickly turned to joy, and having discovered the true passion he felt towards his new life's path, he had settled quite happily into the routine they had held for the past few decades.

He was as unwilling to leave her as she was to leave the kids, and it wouldn't shock him if when his time came, he joined her until the both of them could move on together. He had discussed the matter with his dear Maisie, and she had simply laughed, telling him she'd known that from the moment he had told her about the truth of the doll. Quite a remarkable woman, his wife, and he couldn't wait until the time came when he could finally introduce the two of them, even if it wasn't in this world. For now, Maisie seemed content to simply hear his stories, knowing that the time would come when she could speak to the remarkable woman who was such a major part of his life.

Now though, he simply holds her, in the quiet hours of the night when no one else was near. Curling her braid around his fingers, the way he had as a child, he murmurs a few words more, barely enough to be heard but ringing with their sincerity all the same.

"You're stuck with me, Aunt Helena. Forever and always."

#my writing #based on a reddit prompt #me #story #writing prompt #of course i had to put subtle lesbians in there #dolls #short story #ghost #fiction

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imnotoverlyobsessive · 4 years

Text

Looks Like Someone Picked a Whole Bushel of Oopsie Daisies: Chapter One

ooo chapter one! chapter two is on the way! big thanks to @edward-or-ford for all the help brainstorming and editing!

Chapter One: The Dating Issue

What a tragic attraction; what’s the point of romance?- Neon Trees, Teenager in Love

Mabel Caroline Pines, age 17, had never had a boyfriend.

It’s not like she didn’t want one. She totally did. Her parents were both super encouraging. Sometimes she thought they might even be pushing her into dating.

There were two problems with this. The first was that Mabel had a soulmark, and nobody wanted to go on a date with somebody who had a soulmark. Why bother? Clearly their soulmate is already in their life, so there’s not much point.

Mabel had always had a soulmark. For as long as she could remember, there it was, on her wrist. Taunting her. Mocking her. Hahaha, laughing at her inability to find her stupid soulmate, wherever he’d run off to. She’d just come home from preschool one day and there it was, her mom had told her. Whoever her soulmate was, she didn’t remember him. He obviously went to her school (her lack of withdrawal symptoms told her that) and she was forever trying to peek at boys’ wrists to see if it was them. It wasn’t, but she tried anyway.

The second problem was that Mabel was desperately, hopelessly, stupidly, ridiculously in love with someone already. She’d been in love with him for years, which was the opposite of smart, because he was the last person in the world who would ever look at her that way. Like, ever. Ever ever.

Even so, she waited eagerly for each of his texts, staying up late more often than not just to talk to him. He’d put a beehive in her stomach, and the bees went freakin’ nuts whenever she was around him or even thought about him (which was basically all the time, Christ, get it together, Mabel!). So basically her stomach was all buzz buzz buzz all day long.

He made her so nervous and so happy, but he also made her incredibly sad. She knew he couldn’t see her like that. There was no way. So she’d been stuck pining after him since she was, like, fourteen. Which, whatever. She was used to it.

She was on her way to see him, as it happened. Or rather, she and her parents were. Her parents always accompanied them, and watched them together constantly.

Mabel went to visit her brother (yeah, okay, she’s in love with her brother, shut up, it is what it is) in Gravity Falls, Oregon (or Mount Hood for a ski trip if it was warm) multiple times a year. Usually once every few months. She didn’t know Dipper as well as she would’ve liked to. At least, not in person. Sure, they texted all the time, and they even Skyped a decent amount, but she didn’t get to hang out with him unless her parents were watching them. Which was suuuuuper weird, but her parents had always been weird about some stuff.

Most parents didn’t want their daughters dating. This was not the case with Mabel’s parents. They always seemed annoyed when she didn’t have a date for Homecoming. On Valentine’s Day, Mabel’s mom always asked if any of the boys had confessed to her (they hadn’t; everyone knew Mabel had a soulmark at this point, despite the social taboo against discussing such things), and was visibly disappointed at Mabel’s annual response of “no”.

Mabel got the feeling that if a boy did ever ask her out, her parents would expect her to go out with him whether she liked him or not.

“Just give him a chance, honey,” her dad had told her once when she asked what to do if a boy she didn’t like asked her out.

Mabel’s mom had nodded, saying, “you might like him more than you thought!”

Mabel didn’t have much of a desire to give anybody a chance if she wasn’t interested. Why waste each other’s time? Frankly, she’d been longing after Dipper so long she didn’t think she had it in her to even try thinking about another boy that way.

Her phone’s text tone sounded, and Mabel felt a smile grace her lips.

Dipper: are you here yet?

She stifled a giggle and texted him back.

Me: not yet, silly. I think we’ve got like fifteen minutes left, so we’re close

Dipper: well hurry up

She was thinking of a reply when several minutes passed and he texted again.

Dipper: I miss you

She smiled. It was really freakin’ hard not to feel hopeful when he said things like that. He doesn’t see you that way, Mabel! Get over it!

Me: I miss you, too, Bro Bro!

“Mabel,” her mom said, getting her attention. Her head snapped up.

“Yeah?”

“You sure you’re good to stay at your friend’s tonight?” Mrs. Pines asked. “We don’t want to impose on the Chius, and it’s your first night here since last year.”

Mabel bounced excitedly in her seat at the thought of a sleepover with her friends as soon as she got into town. Her friends, Dipper, Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford, Dipper- all her favorite Gravity Falls peeps in one place!

“Absotively, Momster!” Mabel nodded emphatically. “It’s been waaaaaay too long since I’ve gotten to hang with my GF GFs! Plus, I’m seventeen now! I’m old enough to properly find my soulmate, y’know!” She learned forward conspiratorially, her seatbelt locking against her neck and completely missing the way her parents flinched. “And I know the girls have got some major boy talk to dish out that they’ll only share in person!”

“Remember, Mabel,” said Mr. Pines firmly. “No-““Touching the Dipster, yeah yeah, I know,” she grumbled. “Stupid I’ll-die-if-I-touch-my-twin allergy.”

Mrs. Pines rolled her eyes as they pulled up to the Mystery Shack. “Okay, let’s go say hi.”

Standing in front of the Mystery Shack, however, was Dipper, one hand in his pocket and the other scrolling through his phone.

He looked up when they pulled into the clearing the Shack was in, and a huge grin split across his face when he saw their car. Mabel unlocked her seatbelt before the car had fully stopped.

“Mabel, wait-“ before Mrs. Pines could even finish her sentence, Mabel had opened the door and jumped out of the car. “...until the car has stopped.”

Mabel had barely even heard her, tripping over her feet to get to her brother. Squealing, Mabel stopped several feet away from Dipper, squirming excitedly.

“Dipper!” She squealed.

He put his phone into his hoodie and shoved his hand in his pockets. “Hey, Mabes,” he grinned at her.

His eyes were kinda twitchy, and he wasn’t looking right at her. He was kinda… looking over her shoulder, or at the car, or at her parents, but never her. Was that… nervousness? Nah, of course not. He’s got no reason to be nervous. Unless maybe he got her or their parents a risky gift and he’s not sure how they’ll feel about it? But no, Dipper knows what they like, he’s got no reason to be nervous.

Mabel dismissed the thought.

The thing about Mabel one must understand is that Mabel is a hugger. She hugs everyone, and not being allowed to was very difficult. Risk of dying or not, this no-touching thing was the absolute worst . Not being able to hug Dipper after not seeing him for months was awful. Her parents had been super extra adamant about it this time, too. Even more so than they usually were.

One time, Mabel saw an episode of this show where this guy brought dead people back to life by touching them and if he touched them a second time they died permanently, but the guy had this girlfriend he wanted to hold hands with and stuff and they worked around it. Why couldn’t they do something like that? Mabel’s parents had said no, though.

Which sucked because Mabel really wanted to touch Dipper. Like, she really really wanted to touch Dipper. Seeing him now, being just a few feet from him, not touching him felt… wrong. All wrong. There was something very very wrong with this no-touching situation.

The longer she stood there not touching him, the more it felt like there were needles under her skin, poking at her from the inside.

Their parents stepped out of the car after what seemed like an eternity (in reality, it was about thirty seconds or less), breaking Mabel out of her stupor. “Okay, kids, let’s bring the presents inside,” said Mrs. Pines. “Dipper, can you help? I’m going to go tell your uncles we’re here.” Dipper nodded, walking around to the back of the car with Mabel in tow.

“Ugh, Dip,” Mabel groaned. “The drive was so long and after school just got out yesterday sitting for the whole freakin’ car ride was the worst!”

She was trying really hard not to blush. Honestly, she was! It’s just that from behind, she could see his butt so well when he walked, and he had just the nicest butt ever and it was soooooo hard not to stare at it. Anyone would’ve stared! Really! It was physically impossible not to.

“I know, you were telling me that the whole way here,” he turned to face her as they reached the trunk, a grin on his face.

Ugh. Not that grin! No, anything but that grin! It made her heart flutter and the bees swarm! Dammit, Dipper, couldn’t you be a little less attractive? Just a little bit? For the good of humanity! Okay, really just Mabel, but she was part of humanity and she deserved a normal brother/sister relationship that didn’t involve her staring at his butt when he walked, right?

Mrs. Pines had opened the trunk, grabbed a meticulously wrapped present, and stepped back, waiting patiently. Reaching into the trunk, Mabel went to grab the same present that Dipper did. They were so close, standing side by side, and their hands nearly touched. They both pulled back abruptly, each looking down to mutter a quiet apology.

It was so hard to resist inching closer to him. Even with years of practice, somehow, it had gotten harder. God, how had it gotten harder? She’d gotten used to ignoring the suffocating need to touch him, hadn’t she? Jesus, Mabel, get a grip, girl!

He smiled slightly at her again, and Mabel thought her heart might stop.

#gravity falls fanfiction #gf fanfiction #pinecest #mabel pines #dipper pines #fanfiction #fanfic #looks like someone picked a whole bushel of oopsie daisies #my writing

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ms-rampage · 4 years

Text

Eden’s Gate: The Mother Chapter 5 - The 4 Steps

Warnings: Mandy being an actual mother towards John, Angst.

Word count: 2.5k

Where it all began.

Summary: Mandy goes through the 4 steps of joining the Cult to claim the name, and role as The Mother.

Guest OCs:

Guest Characters: Archangel Raphael (Supernatural), God/Chuck [mentioned].

Note: This takes place in 2012.

**********************************************

The next morning Mandy wakes up, expecting to see Joseph laying next to her.

Waking up in an empty bed, she looks over at the clock on the nightstand, 6:57am.

She groans, getting out of bed, going to the bathroom in her and Joseph’s shared house.

Doing her business, washing her hands, she hears footsteps outside the bathroom coming from their room.

“Joseph?” she calls out, waiting for a response.

She opens the bathroom door, poking her out, looking around. No one there.

She looks around the small house.

Still no one there, Joseph must’ve left early for his sermon.

It’s weird because you figured he would have woken her up.

Since she’s a part of their family now, and she plays an important role in the Project.

Not thinking anything about it, she goes to the kitchen, and makes some coffee.

As she’s filling the kettle with water, a shuffling sound comes from the bedroom.

“Hello?!?” she calls out again, “Joseph?”.

Putting the kettle down on the burner. Investigating the suspicious movements.

She goes over to her and Joseph’s room, the door magically closed.

Knowing well she had left it open. She slowly opens the door, and finds it empty.

No one there. She checks the closet, no one in there.

She sees that the window had been open a bit, she goes to shut it, and locks it.

“I see he’s treating you well” a familiar voice says from behind her.

Mandy nearly jumps out of her skin, and nearly throws a copy of The Book of Joseph at the Archangel, stopping herself.

She lets out an annoyed huff, “Raph?!?! What are you doing here?!?”.

He looks around the room, “Joseph. I see he’s treating you well”.

Still annoyed that this Archangel just showed up unexpectedly like the majority of angels, and demons do.

“Yeah? So what?” she asks, annoyance in her voice.

“I just came by to see how you’re doing” he says.

“I’m doing great, thanks for asking” she says, sarcastically.

She leaves the room, and goes back to the kitchen.

“I can see why God chose you to gain Joseph’s trust” he says, “You have that fiery, intense attitude that every man wants in a woman”.

Mandy scoffs, “Is that really why Chuck chose me?!?”.

“He has many reasons. That one is a very very minor one” he replies, taking a seat.

“So why are you really here?!?” she asks, while pouring coffee into her mug.

“Mainly to check up on you. Chuck wanted to make sure you weren’t screwing up”.

She rolls her eyes, “You’re angels. Can’t you just hear my thoughts all the way up in cloud city?!”.

“Yeah. but physically seeing you is always better for us” he says, shrugging his left shoulder.

Confused, but she goes with it.

“Umm, okay?. Do you know where Joseph went?” she asks, before drinking her coffee.

“He’s at his brother's church. He wanted to bring you along, but he wanted you to sleep in” he answers.

“You spoke with him?!?” she asks, her eyes slightly widened.

He shakes his head, “No, Chuck doesn’t want us to communicate in any way with him or his siblings. Only I can communicate with you. Unless I have one of my brothers do it for me”.

“What happens if Joseph sees you?!” she asks, hesitantly. Eyebrows raised.

“I wipe his memory of me, and whoever else sees me”.

She tilts her head at the Archangel, “Really? Not killing them?!?”.

He shakes his head, “No I can’t kill them. I can’t kill you either, well I can actually but God said I’m not allowed to, and neither can the other angels”.

Mandy finishes off her coffee, “Well I think-” she gets interrupted by a sudden knock at the door.

“Mother Amanda?!” a female voice asks.

Mandy turns to the door, and immediately back to Raphael who is now gone.

“Great” she whispers in annoyance at the celestial being.

She opens the door, and is greeted by a female cultist.

“Yes?” she responds.

“Father Joseph wanted me to bring you this” she says, handing her a white dress.

“Thank you” she responds with a smile.

“He also wanted me to tell you about your baptism this afternoon” she says.

“Oh okay” she says,

“It’s gonna be at the Lamb of God Sacristy” she tells her, “Joseph wanted to cleanse you himself”.

Mandy nods, “Okay that’s fine with me. I look forward to it”.

The cultist leaves, Mandy shuts the door behind her.

Taking a look at the dress.

It’s a beautiful white full length dress with long lace sleeves.

Almost similar to the one she wore when she got married to Joel, 20 years earlier.

Giving her flashbacks to when she was actually happy, and her husband was still alive.

******************************

A few hours later, Mandy gets dressed for her baptism.

Putting on her white dress, barefooted.

A black SUV enters the compound. Pulling up in front of the church.

She leaves the house, and goes into the vehicle.

Sitting in the back along with a few other female cultists.

Driving down the road towards the Lamb of God church in Holland Valley.

Looking out the window of the vehicle, watching her life go down this somewhat dark path.

Arriving at the church, being helped out by a few cultists so her dress won’t expose her privates because it was very windy that day.

She was told to wear the dress without a bra, and panties on.

Feeling somewhat uncomfortable because of the cool breeze, and the water was very choppy.

Joseph waits for her by the water. Wearing an all white suit, similar to the suit he would often wear.

He wanted to cleanse her himself, God wanted him to do this.

Walking towards the water, he reaches out for her hands.

She takes his hands, he guides her into the water. Ankle deep so far.

He places a kiss on her forehead, everyone minus Jacob is there.

John who is helping Joseph with the ceremony, Faith who made several Bliss flower bouquets, and crowns for the ceremony. Also supply the bliss for the water.

Jacob would’ve probably slaughtered some animal for the ceremony meal afterwards.

“Are you ready my love?” Joseph asks, his forehead against hers.

“Yes” she responds.

He guides her further into the water. Waist deep now.

Joseph places one more kiss on her forehead, as John reads from the Book of Joseph.

“Let the water purify your soul. Let it cleanse you, and free you of sin. Let God’s guidance free you of sin, and you will become pure again”.

Joseph places one hand on her waist, and the other on her upper back.

Holding her underwater for a few seconds.

Her vision blurry, the bliss infused water filling her lungs.

The sun shining down on her as she’s underwater.

He pulls her back up, she gasps for air. He moves her hair away from her face.

“How do you feel?” Joseph asks, moving her hair back.

Her vision disoriented, everything looks like it's in 3D, blue and red colors.

“I-I feel great” she says, panting.

He kisses her again but this time on her lips.

****************************

4 days later, Mandy goes through the next step on being The Mother of Eden’s Gate, her Confession. It shouldn’t be hard right?!.

She has to confess her sins to John, but Joseph isn’t going to be there to witness it.

You figured he would since she’s technically his “wife”.

John had some of his men get Mandy, and take her to his gate.

They couldn’t take her by force because she’s in favor of being The Mother, and Joseph wouldn’t like his Children manhandling her at all.

They arrive at John’s gate for her confession.

When she enters the building John is right there waiting for her.

He smirks at her, “Good, you’re here”.

“Yeah I’m here. So now what?” she says.

“It’s time for your confession” he says, walking her down a hallway.

They enter a room that resembles a torture chamber.

“So what?, you gonna torture me or what?!” she asks, looking back at him.

He chuckles at her comment, “I’m just gonna use this” he shows her, holding up a tattoo needle, “and I’m gonna put your sin onto your skin. Then you’ll be free”.

“I thought this was a confession?!” she asks, suspiciously.

He hums “Amazing Grace” as he sets up his equipment, “Oh it is, and it's also your atonement”.

She stands 5 feet behind him, arms crossed, looking like a disappointed mother.

Although she’s not intentionally doing this at him, it's a permanent look for her.

Once he sets up everything, he turns to face her. Tilting his head like a confused child.

“Why so disappointed?!” he asks, sounding like a child who upsetted his mother.

She shrugs, “I’m not, it's just my face. It’s normal for me to look disappointed, when you become a parent you’ll understand”.

He chuckles, “I don’t think that’ll be happening anytime soon”.

He grabs the needle off the table, and says “I don’t really see myself being a parent”.

She nods, “Yeah I didn’t see myself getting married, or having kids either. It changes you”.

John looks away, looking down at the tools on the table. He’s trying not to let her words get to him.

But they do anyway, he clears his throat and says, “You- you’re different. A lot different from my mother”.

Mandy, just from looking at the back of his head, she can see the sadness in his posture.

“I’m guessing she wasn’t the best?!” she asks, slowly walking up to him.

“Trauma, abuse. That’s all I’m gonna say’ he says, as he slightly pushes Mandy onto a chair.

“You’re the way you are because of them” she says to him. Holding back tears, he takes a deep breath.

“So Amanda?” he slowly approaches her, “Are you going to say yes?”.

“For consent?” she asks.

“What sins do you have to confess?!” he tells her.

She looks down at the floor for a moment, her mind wanders off into space.

“What sins do you confess? What bad things have you done that you wish to relieve yourself from?” he asks, leaning against a table.

She looks around as she reminisces all the bad stuff she’s done.

“I um- I confess” she looks around once again, her mind going foggy.

Tears began to form in her eyes, “Several months ago when I lost custody of my daughters, we were living in Des Moine, Iowa, and they were at a high school in the city. My youngest daughter, one of her teachers, saw a bunch of bruises, scars and cuts on her arms and hands. The teacher reported it to Child Protective Services, and the police showed up at our home. They took them, I’m not allowed to see them until they turn 18. My youngest told me the name of the teacher that reported it”.

She stops talking, tears streaming down her face, she looks down at the floor.

“Yes?” John says, wanting her to continue her confession.

“I went to the school that same night, and I-” she starts to cry even more.

“Yes? What else happened?” he asks, his voice calm. Placing his hand on her shoulder.

She looks up at him, and says “I killed her, I bashed her head in with a textbook. I buried her body, and the book in the woods a few miles away from the school. I was so angry, I had my husband taken from me, and then my girls”.

She looks down at her hands, tears falling into them.

“Wrath” John says softly, “Your sin is Wrath, it eats at you, it controls what you feel, it eats away at you. Any other sins you want to confess?”.

He asks, moving her hair away from her face behind her ear. Keeping his hand on her back of her head, rubbing circular motions in her hair.

“Pride, because I take pride, too much pride in what I do. I think I’m helping people but all I do is make things worse. I did kill that woman, that teacher because of my own Greed, my own selfishness. I didn’t even stop to think if she had a family or anything. I let my own emotions, feelings take control. I ruined her family because she ruined mine”.

He moves his hand from her head to her shoulder.

“Wrath, Pride, Greed” he says as he starts up the tattoo needle, “Wrath would look nice right here” he points to her chest.

He leans her back, and tattoos Wrath on her chest.

W, then R, A, T and finally H.

It’s not the worst pain she’s ever experienced. It stings, but childbirth is a lot more painful in the moment than getting a tattoo. Of your sin, that will live on your skin forever unless you cover them up.

“Only two more sins, then you’ll be free” he tells her, “Greed will look nice on your left arm”.

He rolls up the sleeves of her shirt, and tattoos her second sin on her left arm.

G, R, E,E then D.

“Just one more sin” he says, wiping her arm.

“Okay” she says, voice trembling.

P, R, I, D and lastly E.

The most sorta painful moment of her life, time seemed to slow down during this whole moment.

“You’re all finished my dear” he says.

Mandy looks down at her arms, Greed and Pride on her arms.

“So is that it?” she asks, wiping away her tears.

“That’s it. You’re all done, most don’t survive, and I gotta say, if most sinners acted more like you. Well behaved, calm and just accept the Power of Yes, they wouldn’t have to endure all the pain, and suffering they get when they resist, or refuse. It’ll make everything a lot easier”.

Mandy looks over at him, and says, “Well I’m The Mother, and I can’t resist”.

She stands up from her seat, and approaches him. Placing her hand on his forearm. Giving him a mother’s loving touch.

“I know deep down you’re a good kid John, maybe if you didn’t go through what you went through as a child your life would be so much different now. But then you would’ve never met me, and I know you wouldn’t know your purpose in this life. But, all you need is a caring parent that’ll never do you harm. My life wasn’t easy growing up, my parents were away from me and my sister. A lot, working”.

She stops, and leaves the room. Leaving John to sink in, and process her motherly words.

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manggojooz · 5 years

Text

Foolish Love, Fake Love (Part 6)

pairing: idol!Jungkook x bodyguard!reader

word count: ~3,300

genre: idol!au; angst; romance; drama; enemies to lovers sort of thing

warnings: none

summary: If all you can give me is a fake love, then I will be the fool to pretend that it is all true.

Taglist: @a-hopelessly-imaginative-girl @dollwithluv @sweetcheeksdna @yeontanie21 @peachygiraffe14 @jeontaes-world

One. Two. One. Two.

The thuds on the punching bag resounded around the warehouse. Your knuckles made cracking sounds after the hours of practice. Your shins were swollen from repeatedly hitting the stiff black fixture. The sweat on your forehead continued to drip down onto your lashes.

“Come and take a break Y/N”, a much younger and more energetic Ssam Chun shouted at you. Your breathing was heavy as you sat down next to Ssam Chun on the cold hard floor.

“Ya, how many times do I have to tell you... if you keep pushing yourself like this, it won’t do you any good” Ssam Chun handed you a neon-coloured isotonic drink.

“How’s the new girl?”, you questioned him instead of responding to his nagging.

“Yuri? That girl... she’s been whining the whole morning about how her hands hurt,” Ssam Chun snorted, “... she reminds me of you when you just started training haha, do you remember that you used to cry because-”

“Excuse me, nobody cried...”, you were rather offended. You were certain it was just a little tearing and not crying.

SsamChun puts on his best judging face and then gave a little sigh, “But now you don’t make a sound even after hitting that thing for a good one hour straight... sometimes I wonder is this what humans are like?”

“What do you mean?” you asked in between a huge gulp of the weird-tasting drink.

Ssam Chun grabbed your hand and pushed the bandages on your knuckles aside, revealing your red puffy joints.

“It’s not that the pain isn’t there anymore... look at this... but why do you not feel it anymore?”, he asked.

For a moment you thought he was making an attempt to nag at you again, but he was not.

---

A bolt of light flashes and you look up sharply, hands still holding on loosely to the bracelet bearing the carving. ″5.2″.

“Oh hahah I thought it would good to capture your reaction when you first see the bracelet”, a man holding a chunky camera quickly proceeded to explain as he notices your expression.

“This is Jason, Y/N. He's the main photographer today...”, and then the assistant director’s voice trailed off in your mind again as you refocused on the bracelet in your hands.

How much does Jungkook hate this arrangement? How much does he hate you? To the extent that he would engrave the clause number “5.2” onto this bracelet. Now it didn’t look like a jewellery, now it looks like a handcuff. One that intends to constantly remind you that you are imprisoned in this arrangement too.

The assistant director was still kind and gentle as she helped you to put on the bracelet and as she explained that the focus of the photos would not be on your face but she joked that you still shouldn’t make funny expressions lest it makes Jungkook laugh instead.

“Are we starting yet?”, Jungkook walked over and peeked at the bracelet which was now securely circling your wrist, the corner of his lips involuntarily raising a little.

---

The photography session was quick, they only wanted one or two good shots after all.

One of Jungkook’s hand was on your waist, his other hand holding onto yours which was placed on his chest, exhibiting the bracelet that felt cursed. Your back was facing the camera and Jason instructed you to rest your head on Jungkook’s shoulder.

As if there were a thousand needles poking through his shoulder, you carefully pretended to rest your head, the side of your chin barely even touching the material of that fancy jacket he donned. Your other hand hovering behind his back not daring to touch him at all.

The thin air between you and him formed the thickest barrier in this world. “Looking good, both of you...” Jason continued to say encouraging words as you listened to the shutter click away.

Jungkook stepped away quickly once Jason shouted “OK! Done!” and now your hands were just hovering in thin air.

You again felt that ghostly feeling of someone watching you but as you looked around there was no one suspicious at all.

“We are leaving soon, go get changed.” Jungkook whispered in a hushed tone.

You looked at him icily, not saying a word before stalking off.

---

From then on time passed peacefully on the surface for a few days.

The drill was simple. Wake up, go to work, look out for suspicious people around the boys, have lunch with Yuri, sometimes the managers joined you girls, head home when the boys’ schedule ends, make sure to check their apartment for any intruders or suspicious activities and then turning in for the night.

The days were always long, as one would expect. During these long days you could not help but occasionally notice the metal cuff on your wrist. Every time you observed it, it hurts a little less.

He hardly spoke to you ever, only meeting your eyes unintendedly now and then. There was once he looked at you for more than five seconds because your phone was ringing incessantly and Yuri had picked it up and yelled at the other side to “stop calling already!”

But the moment you locked eyes with him, he looked away nonchalantly, without even blinking.

---

The main schedule of the day is a filming for their own programme. The company had rented out a small studio near the office for the filming. It had been going on for hours and you had not bothered to go in to watch the progress.

From the glass window you were sitting next to, you could see the sun slowly setting, indicating the near end of another tiresome day. You hear someone walking towards you and from the corner of your eyes it looked like a shadow – it must be Yuri.

In her usual full black attire, Yuri strolls up to you, “I thought you would more excited to watch them film such things than I would be...,” she sat down next to you on the artsy looking bench in front of the clear window.

“I should be excited...” you muttered and could not help glancing at the bracelet on your wrist.

Yuri sighed, “It must be hard to know that all the while what you thought he was... was not real... but I don’t think he’s a bad person... you guys just met under the wrong circumstances.”

“Actually... I’ve been avoiding him not because I think he is bad or anything... I mean yes he’s not the nicest to me but if I were in his shoes maybe I'd be the same too,” it was difficult for you to gather how you really felt, “but I feel somewhat bad about being his fan previously... I’m not sure if I’m feeling this way because now I realise everything was fake or was it because I realised how foolish I was then.”

Yuri’s expression suddenly turned very serious, “What’s wrong with being a fan? You said so yourself to me... You like his music, you like the way he works hard to deliver his performances and you like the way he communicates with his fans, so what’s wrong with being his fan? Why do you need to feel bad now...”

Before Yuri could finish her counselling session with you, a bunch of people started flowing out into the hallway where both of you were seated – a familiar sight of people carrying clothing racks, huge boxes, files, cameras and all that fancy stuff.

The last of the people to exit were a few of the boys and the managers. Myunghoon was around today too, it had been a while since you saw him with the other managers. He tilted his head slightly to signal that it was time for you two to get going too.

Springing back on to your feet you walked up together with Yuri, gathering in the middle of the hallway. “We are still waiting a few of them to finish up...” Myunghoon said.

“I’ll go use the washroom for a moment then,” you whispered to him and he gave you a little nod.

---

The water flushes really loudly and you used it to your advantage to cover up the sigh you let out, even though when you entered you were sure that there was no one else around.

What was wrong with you? Yuri was right, you never thought of Jungkook as anything more than an idol that you liked because of their music and their performances. What were you so hurt over? You are feeling increasingly like an idiot by now.

Just then, darkness suddenly surrounded you – the lights in the washroom had gone off. Immediately, you snapped out of all those thoughts and returned to the alertness that defined your occupation.

With your left hand slowly grasping the door lock on your cubicle, you carefully tried to open the door. The door wouldn’t move. That was when you realised this was definitely not a simple power trip, someone must be outside.

Without any warning to whoever was out there, you rammed your side into the cubicle door trying to barge through it. You could hear some shuffling noises and you made no attempt to say anything as you knew there would be no favourable response anyway.

Your second attempt to burst through the door showed promising results, but the mysterious assailant shoved the door hard causing you to tumble back a step. Just then a shrill voice shouted through the rustic silence “I hate you!! You should die!!”

You were stunned for a moment, but quickly lunged for the door again while shouting back, “Who are you?!”

Then the final act came pouring down on you, quite literally. There was water everywhere, pelleting down on you harder than a thunderstorm. You could hardly keep your eyes open as you tried to look up for the source of the downpour.

“YA!!! Who are you?!” you continued shouting. There was no response and no matter how hard you pushed the door would not budge anymore. You finally managed to find a blind spot from the storm in the cubicle and saw that the mugger had thrown two huge hoses over the top of the cubicle door, which were now spraying waterfalls onto you.

The cubicle was completely sealed other than the top. You hastily took out your handphone and dialed for Yuri.

“Yuri, someone attacked me in the toilet... don’t ask for the details now, I'm fine... it’s a girl I think... she might still be in the building,” there was not a moment to waste as you called Yuri to action.

Once you hung up, you put down the toilet seat cover and mounted it. It was a good thing the cubicle walls were sturdy enough to sustain your weight as you lifted yourself up over it into the adjacent cubicle. Once you were out of your confinement, you saw that your cubicle door was blocked by one of those huge carts that the janitors use. Almost on the verge of swearing, you turned off the hoses and dashed out, avoiding looking at your state in the mirrors.

---

You dashed across the hallway, leaving a trail of water behind you. Myunghoon stared at you in shock as you tried to run past him.

“Where are you going?!” he shouted and grabbed you by the arms.

“She must still be around, we need to find her!” you yelled back.

“Yuri and the rest are looking for her” he chanted repeatedly as he dragged you towards the studio. Myunghoon pulls you through the studio set into the dressing room at the back. Seokjin, Yoongi and Jungkook were still in the room packing up their things and they looked visibly shocked when Myunghoon pulled you into the room.

“Hyung.. What happened?” Jin stammered.

“Maybe you guys should clear out, on your way out can you get one of the other managers to look for some towels or clothes... I’m not sure if they have any spare though...” Myunghoon was aware that you probably hated to be seen in this state.

To be fair, at this point you could not really be bothered by how they saw you anymore, but you still wanted to avoid any awkward conversations or eye contact.

“I have some spare clothes,” Jungkook said a little hesitantly.

“You do? It's spare or you need them for later?” Myunghoon marched over almost immediately.

“I was planning to go to the gym after this so I brought some clothes...” just as his sentence ended Myunghoon snatched the bag from Jungkook’s hands.

“Thank you very much then if that’s the case,” Myunghoon chirped. Jungkook look slightly taken aback though.

You had been staring at an empty space on the floor for a while now, hoping they would hurry settle it and leave but then a white patch appears before your eyes.

“I have a spare towel... thought I would sweat a lot from today’s filming but I didn’t get to use...” Yoongi muttered, his words slurring as always. There was hardly an expression on his face as he offered the pristine towel to you, raising it closer to your face when you failed to accept it.

“Ah... thank you...” you replied as you took it.

With that they left the room and you were on your own to clean up the mess that was yourself.

---

Sejoon shoves a cup of hot tea into a whiny Jungkook’s hands.

“What are you complaining about? Do you think she wanted it to happen? I know it’s not your fault that those sasaengs are crazy... but it’s not her fault either! And whose fault is it that her name has to be thrown out there as your fake girlfriend?” a rather stern Sejoon was chiding Jungkook to deliver the tea to you.

Jungkook turned silent for a moment. The past few days he had been so immersed in his inability to control the public sentiment, and the lousy circumstances that made him unable to clarify and say what he wanted to. There was a lot he was not satisfied with, including how you, a fan, was allowed to be his bodyguard. He momentarily questions if he is taking out too much of his dissatisfaction on you.

“You guys should have never let her become our bodyguard...” Jungkook gripes one last time and Sejoon was just about to tear him a new one but Jungkook escapes with the hot tea in his hands.

---

“Yes, come in please,” you answered the knocks on the dressing room door while continuing to squeeze the moisture out of your heavily drenched hair.

You sat up tensely when it was Jungkook who entered.

He cleared his throat awkwardly as he notices you were now wearing his baggy black T-shirt and track suit pants. They were obviously ill-fitting and he wondered if you had always been this small; he never really noticed it.

“Sejoon hyung said you should have some hot tea before we go off, they are still looking for the attacker...” he murmured as he places the cup onto the table in front of you.

“Thanks...” you whispered back.

He sits down on the couch opposite you and you looked at him in surprise.

“Is it your first time meeting a sasaeng?” he asked curiously.

You were suddenly reminded of the time he suggested that you could be a sasaeng too and a wave of emotions hit you again to know that you were being compared to this type of horror.

In your trance you sarcastically replied, “Well I guess other than myself, this is probably a first.”

He looked at you nervously, knowing clearly that you were referring to his past statement. He took a deep breathe before apologising, “I’m sorry for insinuating that you were a sasaeng... I was just really annoyed at that time...”

You still looked at him coldly, his words only confirming the fact that he took out his annoyance on you.

“Forget it...” you responded after a pause, “I can see why you are so sensitive if such things can happen anytime like this.”

He was so shocked that you let the topic go so easily that he blinked a few times confusedly.

“It used to be worse,” he quickly said, as if he wanted to avoid giving you any chance to go back to being angry. “When I first encountered them I got so angry... scared... they would say such weird things and I had no idea what I was supposed to do or feel. But... nowadays I don’t feel it that much anymore, most of the time at least, but once in a while when it gets really serious I guess I still feel something...”

He observed you carefully as he rambled on but you were busy packing all the wet clothes into a plastic carrier that Myunghoon had left with you.

Without much warning to him and as you were stuffing Yoongi’s towel into the carrier, you suddenly asked “But why do you not feel it anymore?”

His gaze on you changed into one with a shallow depth. After a moment of contemplation, he seems to have found the answer.

“For survival... how else do you think I am able to live if every such thing is going to get to me?”

“So does that mean you regret choosing to be an idol?” you continued probing.

He frowns at you, “Do you regret becoming a bodyguard?”

“At times... but mostly no,” you answered.

“It’s the same for me too. At times, some times when I really cannot ignore it, I do regret. Why did you choose to do this though?” he felt this conversation was rather intriguing.

“It was the one thing I could do I guess... or rather the one thing I could do and which made me feel like I am alive... That it was worth my time and my life”, you tried to summarise your thoughts.

“Feel alive... Is it how it’s like in the movies? When something dangerous happens and you put yourself in danger to protect your “clients” and that makes you feel alive?” he asked a bit too earnestly.

It was as if the time had hit a pause button, you couldn’t move at all. You never really thought about why you felt this way doing this job after all these time.

He laughed softly, “They make me feel that way too...”, he concluded. The annoyance was returning back to him. He was ready to get up, dismayed to be reminded that it is the attacks, the harsh comments, the antis and the sasaengs who constantly remind him of his duties as an idol; is that what feeling alive is supposed to be then?

“There is a little girl I know who used to be really scared of “monsters” living under her bed...” you began saying out of the blue, “She would always beg me to check under her bed every night before she would sleep. I did it every night for her... It meant the world to a three-year-old. The way she thanked me and relied on me helped me survive the times when I felt like I had no other value in this world. She made me feel alive.”

Jungkook looks at you intently as you continued, “I don’t know if you get my point but it’s not about how much danger I overcame or how much pain I had to endure or what greatness I achieved. In the end I felt alive because I touched another life – I valued her and in turn, she valued me.”

If he said he understood what you were trying to tell him it would probably be a lie, but he felt like it meant something more than he could comprehend in that instant.

You stood up straight to try to match his height, “Don’t feel alive because of the bad things you have to go through. Look at all your fans who have been touched by you... the fans who love you. Feel alive for them.”

With that you thought the conversation was done and you picked up the bag of clothes, turning to head out of the room.

“Were you...” his voice puts a stop to your steps, “one of them?”

138 notes · View notes

imaginejamesandsirius · 4 years

Note

Hey. I love these fics, they are some of my favourites. You’re the only thing doing this ship justice. Do you think you could do a Clueless au. With Sirius as Cher and James as Josh. Tysm

"Sirius, James will be coming over tonight, so be sure that you're prepared for a family dinner," Orion said, and Sirius just barely managed to keep himself from gaping at his father.

"What? Why is he coming here? You divorced Euphemia, like, three years ago." And his current outfit was far too good for someone like James. He didn't want James to think that he'd gotten dressed up for him or summat. Sirius just always looked this good.

"Yes, well, you can divorce a wife, but not your children," Orion said distractedly.

Sirius scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Isn't he busy in uni?"

"It hasn't started yet."

"Figures," Sirius muttered.

Orion glanced at him. "Why are you so against this? He's your brother."

"He's not my brother; he's your ex-wife's son. Our connection to him is long over."

"Can't divorce your child," Orion repeated, turning back to the papers in front of him.

Sirius rolled his eyes again and left the room. The term hadn't started yet, so what? It's not like James lived here. He had an actual home of his own that he could stay at, where he had a parent that actually had responsibility to him.

James showed up way before dinner, like he lived here or something. It's not like Sirius hated him, but he always acted like Sirius was an idiot. Like just because he didn't talk like a bloody professor all the time, that meant he didn't know anything. What a tosser. "Hey Sirius," he said, then took a swig of orange juice straight from the bottle. Who did that? Honestly, every time he came around, it was like living with a pig. If Sirius wanted to live with a pig, he'd buy from from the animal shelter or wherever it is people bought pigs from (how would he know? He's not a farmer, and a pig wouldn't fit in very well at their house-- pigs and this many stairs don't mix.).

Sirius made a face at him and reluctantly said, "Hi. Is this what you're learning at uni? How to mess up someone else's kitchen?" Because in addition to his bottle-drinking ways, he'd opened a loaf of bread and left the peanut butter with the knife still in it-- and still sticky with jelly.

"Relax, it's not like you're the one that has to clean it up."

"I can't believe Professor Binns gave me this bad a grade," Sirius said, frowning at his report card.

"Ugh, I know right?" Lily said, easily falling into step beside him. "I got the same grade. My dad's totally going to choke when he sees it. You look pretty calm considering I know your dad's going to flip too."

"It's not set in stone yet," Sirius said, thinking about all the other report cards that he'd been able to fix.

"You going to get it fixed?"

"Yep."

"Binns is notoriously hard to please. I don't think he'll change it for you."

"I've done the impossible before," Sirius said, tucking the paper in his bag.

"Like that time you convinced Severus to cut his hair short?"

Sirius gave a decisive nod. "Exactly. This is just a little grade; Binns won't even remember it by the end of the year."

"Good luck," she said, voice light enough that Sirius knew she doubted his ability to get it done.

But really, what did she know? Sirius had been taking care of his grades like this for years, and Orion was never the wiser that Sirius failed to turn in so much of his homework. He didn't have the time to do homework though, not after the designer stores started opening so close to their house. Great outfits didn't just put themselves together. Lily knew that.

"Hey kiddo," Orion said, looking up from his dinner as if suddenly struck with a memory, "where's your report card?"

Sirius had to swallow thickly around food he hadn't quite finished chewing. "I don't have it yet."

"You don't have it? What is that supposed to mean?"

"Yeah, Sirius," James said, looking far too smarmy for his own good. "Didn't everyone else get their's today?"

Sirius glared at him, but he had to think up a response because Orion was still looking at him expectantly. "Dad, you always say that you should never accept a first offer. I'm negotiating."

James snorted, but Orion nodded approvingly.

"Do you think you'll be able to do it?" Orion asked.

"Totally."

"How?" James said derisively. "Going to give your professors a makeover?"

"Don't get mad at me just because you look like you went picking through a poor American writer's closet." Open plaid shirt? Really? James could at least try. And the graphic tee under it that said something about animal rights certainly wasn't helping-- also, faux fur exists for a reason, duh.

"-and I was like, er hello? Gideon's Welsh, and if we go on a date or something, people are going to expect me to know how to speak Welsh. It's like, a super hard language to learn, and I'd totally butcher it," Lily said.

"Welsh is hard. It's like, almost impossible to learn even if you are Welsh," Sirius agreed. "Total downer."

"It's almost impossible to learn Welsh because the British government is still trying to make it a dead language and is actively working to make that happen," James interrupted, and Sirius and Lily turned around to glare at him. He was eating cereal from the box. Again. "If either of you paid attention to your history class instead of talking about your nails, you'd know that." And then he stormed away. Like he thought he was some sort of storm god that came down to interrupt perfectly nice conversations. They'd barely been talking about Welsh and British colonialism in the first place.

"What's his damage?" Lily said.

"God, who even knows. Maybe you could ask Gideon on a not-date first. See if it's worth the trouble first," Sirius suggested. Then he shrugged and added, "Or you could go my route and not date because everyone our age is kind of a bonehead anyways."

"Are you including yourself in that?" Lily asked pointedly, and Sirius just rolled his eyes. As if.

"Hey Sirius, have you seen my cellphone?" Regulus asked.

"No, and I'm not going to help you look," Sirius said, flipping a page of the fashion magazine he was reading. Well, looking at. They never had good articles in these, he was sure. "Maybe next time you'll carry it in a bag like me."

"I'd look like a ponce," Regulus said, then poked his head up and looked at him. "Like you." He ducked back down before Sirius could decide to throw the magazine at him.

"Well there are worse things in life than looking like a ponce, Reggie."

"Don't call me Reggie," Regulus muttered, and Sirius summarily ignored him-- summarily, his big vocab word of the day; he was trying to get better about those so he wouldn't sound so clueless all the time.

"For one, you could be crawling around on your hands and knees looking for something that you could have so easily kept in your bag. For another, you wouldn't fail to find it and have to ask Dad for a new one. You know he's not going to give it to you, right? Not after he just bought you that new desktop computer."

"I'll find it," Regulus growled, all prepubescent certainty.

"Sure you will," Sirius said. "And while we're on the subject, I didn't say you have to carry a purse, I said a bag. Get a bag to match your school bag or something so that you can avoid being bullied like you imagine your dear old brother was."

"You weren't bullied," James said, choosing that moment to enter the room, looking a little more angry at the world than he usually did before talking to Sirius.

"Exactly my point! So, dear sweet Regulus, get yourself a bag. Or a purse, if you are so bold. Hi James."

"Er, hi. You lose something Reg?" James asked, bending over a little as if the changed angle would help him find the answer to his question. He was a total prick and all, but at least he had a nice backside. God only knows how he got it though, sitting around reading boring books.

"My cellphone. Matty said he would call me tonight, so I need my cellphone."

"Would that be the same cellphone I saw sitting on the balcony upstairs?" James asked. He had that answer all prepped and ready to go before Regulus had said a word. Weird.

Regulus shot up, eyes wide. "Really?" He went running off up the stairs before James could answer.

"You okay?" James asked, and Sirius frowned up at him.

"Yeah? What, are we having heart to hearts now? Because if there's something you want to talk about, there are therapists for that." Aka, please don't talk to Sirius about that sort of thing. It's not like he was against James talking to him, but if James was in a talking sort of mood, he'd probably want to talk about, like, world hunger or something and then James would get mad at him for not doing more to help-- just like he always did.

"No, I- I meant with Regulus?"

"What about my dear sweet brother? I was being honest before; Dad won't give him a new cellphone if he doesn't manage to hold onto that one for another month. At least."

"Not that. He called you..."

Ah, so James had been listening the whole time. "You can't say that surprises you," Sirius said. "The makeup is usually a dead giveaway for people when I'm not wearing a skirt." Although, he did usually wear a skirt because if he could look that good in something, why wouldn't he?

"Yeah, I didn't mean that." He was still giving Sirius a too-severe look. Normally at this point in a conversation, they'd be poking and needling at each other. "...Whatever." He walked around and joined Sirius on the couch, landing heavily specifically to displace Sirius's comfortable position. "Bloody hell, you're reading a fashion magazine. And here I thought you were reading something intellectual for once."

That was more like it. Sirius hit him on the head with the magazine and got tickled in the side for it. Besides, it totally wasn't fair for James to say that. Sirius had watched the news some to that he knew what a little of what was going on. And he actually listened when Professor McGonagall talked about the various disasters happening around the world.

"We should be friends with him," Sirius said, and Lily looked at him like he was crazy.

"Um, excuse me? Sirius, look at him."

Sirius looked. His nose wrinkled, but he shook it off. "Yeah, I know. God, I know, he looks like a total burn out." He had baggy clothes, and the lip ring wasn't doing him any favours. He'd dyed his hair green, which served to make his skin look pale and sallow. "But, you know Lily, we've been trying to do more good things for the world, and that starts where we live."

"That means planting flowers that don't grow on bushes; not bringing down our credibility by being seen with... someone like that."

"You'll survive," Sirius said before raising his voice and calling, "Remus!" while waving a hand at him. "Hi, I'm Sirius, and this is Lily."

Lily gave a terse little smile. "Hi." She sounded way too snooty for what they were trying to do.

Sirius gave her a warning glare for it, then turned back to Remus with a bright smile.

"Oh. Erm, I'm Remus. Just moved down here," he murmured. He had a Northern Irish accent. God, who even lived there anymore? At least it explained why he was more pale than he should've been. Honestly, the porcelain look had been a mistake for everyone.

"Yeah, that's great honey. Listen, if we're going to be mates, you need to not mumble everything. You're proud of yourself-- or at least you're going to be-- and people who are proud of themselves don't let their mouths muss up their speech so much. Okay?"

"Erm. Okay?"

Sirius beamed. "Great! You free tonight? No offense, but I was thinking you could come over and we could get started on a makeover for you. Maybe buy some new clothes this weekend if this is representative of your entire wardrobe."

Remus tugged on his shirt self-consciously. "I'm here on scholarship," he muttered, face getting a bit of colour as he blushed.

"Oh, don't even worry about that. I've totally got you covered."

"Why? I mean, why would you do that for me? We've just met."

"Because he's totally lost his marbles and decided that he needed a male best friend," Lily said, rolling her eyes.

"I've done nothing of the sort, Lily. I'm simply... expanding the group."

"Group? There's no 'group'. It's you and me."

"Well, now it's you and me and Remus, so we're a group. Right?" Sirius said, looking at Remus.

"I guess?" Remus agreed tremulously.

The good news-- the really really excellent news-- was that Remus was pretty cute once the weekend was over. His natural hair was loads better than what he'd done to it before, and with the lip ring gone, he had the face of an angel. Well, an angel with freckles, but some people liked that.

Lily had missed most of the transformation because she'd had a date with Gideon-- apparently, the Welsh thing wasn't an issue so long as they were still in the city because everyone around them pretending that Gideon wasn't Welsh-- but she was suitably impressed when they showed up to school on Monday.

"Okay, lesson number two, Remus, is making sure that if you're going to date, you're dating the right sort of person. Your new look, new diet, and new workout regime won't mean anything if you spoil it by dating the wrong sort of person. Benjy, for example, is a burn out. You don't want to join that crowd. They're all going to end up flunking out before they can decide what they want to do with their lives, and you're going to be just like them if you date him." Sirius wasn't used to being so harsh with people-- other than Regulus and James because duh, they both needed the help big time-- but Remus had given Benjy a shy smile and friendly wave when he'd seen him a few moments ago. Remus could always decide not to date like Sirius had, but Remus had seemed gobsmacked at the idea that Sirius wasn't having sex. Aiming him in the right direction had a better chance of success than convincing him that guys their age weren't worth his time. "Look, for example, at Peter." Peter was a friend, and they got on pretty well considering they hardly hung out because Peter lived in the exact opposite direction of Lily. "He's popular, very nicely groomed, and most importantly, doesn't smell like weed because he doesn't smoke it. Tell you what, I'll help you get his attention, and we'll see where it goes from there." As if he stood a chance of failure. He'd gotten two of his professors together just to help boost his grade; getting Remus and Peter together was going to be a piece of cake.

But Remus agreed, and that's all that was important. Even if dating Peter didn't last, it would get his mind off Benjy and on the right track.

"I bet you've never done anything selfless in your entire life," James said, and Sirius glared at him.

Partly for the (very unfair) comment, partly because there was no reason for James to be here right now when there wasn't a break in uni, but mostly because he was sporting facial hair that looked more like razor burn than anything else. "What is that thing on your face?"

"My glasses? I've had them since before we ever met."

"No, that disgusting peach fuzz on your chin. You look fourteen; it's despicable. Shave it off or you'll risk looking like an even bigger berk than you already do. There, I did something selfless."

James rolled his eyes. "It doesn't count as selfless if you're telling me to help your own senses."

"So you admit that that thing is an abomination to my eyesight?"

James snorted and muttered something about he was right about Sirius being selfish, but the light dusting of hair along his jaw was gone. He looked much better this way, but it's not like Sirius could say that to his face; that would be too much like getting along.

Still, James thinking that Sirius was selfish stuck with him. "Lily? Would you say that I'm selfish?"

"Not to your face."

Sirius pouted. "I do good things."

"Sure you do. You're better than me, anyways. I'm still not sure about your whole mentoring-Remus kick, but whatever."

This was probably the worst night of Sirius's life. Really. Worse than Dad's last wedding, when the priest showed up drunk, and Regulus puked all over the cake because he'd been sneaking ice cream all day and Sirius had had to run around fixing everything-- why Sirius had taken care of it instead of James's mum, he'd had no idea, but it had been very stressful. Wedding cakes took ages to make, and priests were surprisingly hard to pin down even though they were supposed to serve the people or whatever.

But anyways, this was worse. Because not only had Peter stolen a kiss and pretty much ignored Remus the whole party and come onto him in the car and then driven away when Sirius got out of the car because he wouldn't stop touching him, leaving Sirius stranded in the middle of nowhere, but someone had mugged him! Mugged! Like it was the bloody dark ages! he had no phone, no cash, and he'd gotten mud on his Jimmy Choo's. Mud. That wasn't going to come out. He'd just gotten these heels, and now they were ruined. Ruined! Why did he try to have anything good in this life? It was just going to end up splattered with mud.

Since he didn't know how to use the tube much less where it was and Dad would totally be mad at him if he had to leave the house to come pick Sirius up from a party he wasn't supposed to be at, that left Sirius with only one real option: James. James would come get him, if only because it would make Sirius owe him a favour.

Getting his hands on a phone he could use was a little bit more difficult than it should have been, and he was glad that he'd taken the time to memorise the number for James's dorm room.

"Hello?"

"Hi James, it's Sirius, and I need for you to come pick me up."

"Pick you up? Where the hell are you?"

"I was at this party that Dad doesn't know about, so I couldn't call him!" Sirius didn't really mean to shout, but he was tired and-- quite frankly-- on the verge of crying. "It's been like, the worst night ever. Someone stole my phone so I can't call a cab."

"Okay," James said slowly. "Weren't you at a party with your friends? Why didn't one of them drive you home?"

"Peter started to, but then he like, practically assaulted me for some reason, and he wouldn't stop touching me, so I had to get out of the car, and when I wouldn't get back in, he left. Can you believe that? He just left me out here all by myself, and then someone stole my phone and stuff, so I couldn't call a stupid cab for myself, and I just ruined my new pair of Jimmy Choo's, so I need you to come get me!"

"Jesus, I'm coming. Just- don't cry, I'll be there soon."

Sirius was already crying. He sniffled a little and went outside to wait since he'd already ruined these shoes and a little more harsh pavement wasn't going to do anything worse to them. Sirius thought that he couldn't feel any worse about himself, except he got in the car when James showed up, and some little fuck buddy of his was there, took one look at Sirius and said, "God, is he your step-brother or a rent-boy?"

Sirius ripped one of his shoes off and shoved it in their face. "These are Jimmy Choo's. Rent-boys that have to stand on the side of the road in the middle of the bloody night can't afford those, and I'm sixteen. If you want to be a piece of shite, maybe you could just say so." He put his shoe back on and sneered at him now that he was looking. "And if you want to say I'm pretty, you could just fucking say that too."

James pressed his lips together to keep from laughing, which kept Sirius from feeling even worse about himself. Of course, then James's little friend started talking about Shakespeare-- probably to make him feel inferior-- and he had to butt in partway through.

"That's Twelfth Night, not Taming of the Shrew."

"I think I know more Shakespeare than you do," he said, all condescension.

"Congrats, I know my American high school movies. Channing Tatum was the one that gave the greatness speech in She's the Man, not Heath Ledger in 10 Things I Hate About You. She's the Man was based on Twelfth Night, so that's what it's from."

This time, James couldn't completely hold back his laughter.

"Hi Dad."

"Hi pumpkin," Dad said distractedly, not looking up from the paper in front of him.

"What are you working on?"

"Just a case."

"Ah." Sirius rocked back on his heels. He didn't feel like being alone, but he also didn't want to leave the house or... do anything, really. He just wanted to hang out with Dad a little. "Anything I can do to help?"

Dad looked up at him, over the rim of his glasses. Then he smiled. "Sure. Here," he said picking up a stack to the left and handing it to Sirius along with a highlighter, "highlight every call that was made on March third."

"Okay." Sirius sat down next to him and started working. It was pretty quiet, just the sound of them breathing, the squeak of highlighters, and the occasional paper being flipped.

"Are you watching the news?" James asked. He sounded a little surprised, but not incredulous.

"Yeah. Trying to stay up to date with the world like you suggested."

"Huh." James threw himself on the couch next to him and stole his snack.

People who stole his snacks should not be allowed to look so cute, especially since James said it tasted weird and then kept eating it instead of giving it back. And really, who looked cute in denim anyways? This was totally not on.

Sirius didn't think anything about the fact that he'd called James cute in his mind until a few minutes later, when James pulled a blanket over their legs. This was... soft. Comfortable, even. Snack stealing aside, it made Sirius's chest feel all warm to be snuggled up like this with James.

Realising that he fancied James was kind of like that time he was a kid and realised that he was stuck with Regulus for life, unlike Dad's wives that had a habit of coming and going before Sirius had to really accept them. Only this was worse because unlike then, there was no guarantee that everything would turn out okay. Sirius and Regulus had had to get used to each other; James was under no such commitment to fancy Sirius back, especially since James's type seemed to be arseholes that thought they knew Shakespeare and had no idea how to dress themselves.

Sirius hadn't decided what he was going to do about it, which made it so much worse when Remus turned to him one day and said, "Hey, would you help me get James?"

"What?" Sirius said, blinking at him. Surely that had been an auditory hallucination. Since when did Remus want to date James?

"James," Remus said, as if there had been any doubt. He might as well have elaborated to explain who James was for all that had made sense. Of course they were still talking about James. If they were talking about someone else, Sirius wouldn't care. More power to Remus for finally getting his legs under him. But James? Really? The last guy that Remus had been interested in of his own volition was Benjy. "Will you help me? I mean, you know him so much better than I do."

"Why would you want to date James? He's not exactly your type."

"You've been saying that I should get a new type," Remus reminded him.

Aw shite, he had said that. Of course, at the time that he'd been saying it, he meant Peter. He didn't mean that anymore, but he really did not meant James. "Well yeah," Sirius hedged, "but I don't think you're his type either. I mean, he likes, like, brainy people."

"Are you saying I'm stupid?" Remus asked, and he wasn't hurt by it, he was belligerent.

"What? No, I just mean that-"

"If you're going to be an arse about this, I won't bother sticking around," Remus said. Before Sirius could collect himself enough to protest or correct him, Remus had gathered his things and left.

"What the...?" Sirius shook his head. Whatever. If Remus wanted to act like he was better than him, then fine. Sirius didn't need him, and obviously Remus didn't need him anymore.

Sirius didn't know how big of a mistake he'd made with Remus until they were at school, and Remus didn't just brush off Benjy when he dropped by their table; he made fun of him. Listen, Sirius wasn't responsible for a change of mind, and he knew that. But there was something about the way he did it, like it was a performance he was doing to please everyone around him. The amused look he shot Lily afterwards only cemented that idea.

Sirius went to find Benjy after last class, because he figured someone owed him an apology and Remus sure wasn't going to do it himself. "Hi," Sirius said.

Benjy looked up at him, looking less stoned than usual. "Hey. Erm, sorry about your shoes."

"What shoes?"

"The er, red ones that I spilled a drink on. Like, a few months ago, remember?"

"Oh, those are so last season, it's fine. Listen, I wanted to apologise for Remus being... well, a total arse. I told him that he should take more pride in his appearance and like, apparently he took that to mean he should be rude to people that like him if they aren't popular." There were a few details that he was leaving out, but they weren't important to the situation. It didn't really matter that Sirius had given Remus a makeover and told him straight out that dating Benjy would bring him down, because Remus hadn't even listened to him. It was only once Remus had turned confident that he started acting like an arse, and Sirius didn't think he could be credited with that. "Did you want to-" god this pained him "-like come over for pizza or something?"

"Huh?"

"Just to make you feel better," Sirius said quickly. He didn't want Benjy to think they were suddenly friends. "You looked like a kicked puppy after Remus blew you off. And I need an excuse to order pizza," he added. Lily was going gluten free, and as the best friend, Sirius wasn't supposed to order any food that would mess up her diet. Of course, Sirius also wasn't supposed to be eating that much cheese and bringing Benjy around would give a good excuse for both of them.

Sirius had sort of been having not good luck lately, so it was a surprise when Benjy said yes, but not a surprise when Benjy, Lily, and Sirius showed up to find that James and Remus were already there. Personally, Sirius wanted to know why Remus thought he could invite himself over when they were in the middle of a fight, but whatever.

"James, do you want pizza?" Sirius yelled. He wasn't going to make the effort to go over to him and ask like a civilised person because he didn't want for James to think of him as put together all the time. Looking as good as Sirius did on a daily basis took time.

"Pineapple!"

Sirius only had to stare at him incredulously for a moment before he cracked up. He found it endearing. It was a stupid joke-- a barely there joke, even-- and James was guffawing, something that Sirius usually did not find pleasant in the slightest. Somehow though, all Sirius could think was that James looked super adorable and he wanted to squish his cheeks. Or maybe kiss him. Or maybe hug him. Feelings were confusing.

"Cheese is fine," James said.

Sirius stuck his tongue out then went to make a call, nodding when Lily said they should do thick crust. He had no idea what happened when he was gone, but Benjy and Remus had both vanished. Together, according to Lily. "Well where did they go?"

"Based on the moon eyes they were giving each other, I told them to get a room, and I think they listened to me," Lily said. "I'd give them some time alone before going looking for them. I don't think it's something either of us want to see."

"What, are they getting along again?"

"Guess so," James said. "Isn't that why you brought that guy here? What did you say his name was? Ben?"

"Well yeah, but I didn't know that Remus was here." Sirius narrowed his eyes at James. "What were you even talking about? And why are you here? Don't you ever go to school?"

"You're just now realising this?" James asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sirius's crush on James was out of hand. Normally, Sirius only helped with Dad's work when Dad was around. The whole point was to spend time with him. Right now though, Dad was still at the office, and Sirius was helping with the work to spend time with James. He wasn't sure when James had decided to work with Dad, but it meant that Sirius was poring over papers in the study with James and Lucius instead of going shopping with Lily and Remus like he wanted to; he'd even gotten all dressed up for it, and it felt kind of ridiculous to be wearing a skirt this short if he was staying in but whatever.

If this was a different situation, Sirius might think that James was interested in him. Sirius was playing with his hair because he categorically refused to pull it back unless he was doing something physical, and he was trying to keep from getting too bored. It wasn't all that strange, but he'd be messing with his hair, and James would glance at him before tearing his eyes away. Then, a minute later, it would happen again. Sirius would poke James with the non-ink point of his pen, and James would give him a little shove in return. It was playful, almost like flirting. If it were anyone else, Sirius would think it was flirting, but this was James, and since when was James interested in someone like him?

Lucius shuffled some of the stacks around, looking confused. "Where are the call records?"

"What call records?" James asked.

"The ones our client made. It was over a hundred pages, where did it go?"

"You mean the March calls?" Sirius said, and they both looked at him. "I highlighted the calls from March and then put them in two piles since there was..." he slowed a little at the angry twist to Lucius's face, "so much. Was that not right?"

"No, you absolute idiot, it wasn't right. The March calls are nothing; we don't need them. It's going to take hours to find all of them again, and it's your fault."

"Hey," James protested, and Sirius shrunk back a little.

"We have to have this case ready by tomorrow, and now we won't be able to." Lucius shook his head.

"I didn't mean to," Sirius said quietly.

"Congratulations, you didn't mean to bugger up," Lucius said flatly. "You still did. Why are you here, again?"

Sirius wasn't in the mood to get yelled at, so he slid out of his chair and left the room.

"That was uncalled for," James said. "He's not getting paid for this, and he had no idea that he shouldn't split them up."

"Leave it to you to defend him."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That maybe if you weren't busy making puppy eyes at him, you would've noticed that there was an issue sooner and we would actually have the time to fix this. But you were busy thinking with your prick, and now we're buggered. Besides, isn't he supposed to be your brother?"

"Step-brother, and we weren't bloody raised together," James defended automatically.

"Do whatever the hell you want," Lucius said, getting to his feet, "I'm calling in sick tomorrow so I don't have to explain to the boss why his stupid son messed it all up."

"He's not stupid; he's just not trained for this. He didn't have to be there at all, and-"

Lucius cut him off with a groan as they walked to the front door. "For god's sake, if you want to moon over him, do it with someone that cares. I'll talk to you when you have half a brain again."

"I doubt I'll ever see you again if you're ducking out of this now, Lucius, but go on and get a good night's rest, I'm sure you'll need it for job hunting." James sort of slammed the door as soon as Lucius was out of the house. He rubbed at his forehead tiredly as he turned, catching sight of Sirius sitting on the middle landing of the stairs. It was obvious that he'd been there the whole time. He looked sad. James had seen him upset a few times, but never so dejected. He had his knees pulled up a little, arms resting on top of them. The way Sirius dressed was so innocent. He wore a short skirt because he liked knee-high socks and the way his legs looked, not because he was trying to seduce anyone. That being said, James felt thoroughly seduced.

"Did I really mess it all up?" Sirius asked, sounding as depressed as he looked.

"Nah." James walked up the stairs and sat down next to him. "Lucius is just blowing off steam. I mean, yeah, it'll take some time to sort out, but it's not going to ruin the case or summat."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

Sirius turned and hugged him, hiding his face in James's neck. "Thanks." Then, a moment later, he added, "Thanks for sticking up for me. I know you think I'm kind of vapid."

"You're not vapid; you're just not a bloody professor. That's not a bad thing."

Sirius leaned back a little. "Were you really making puppy eyes at me?"

"What?" James asked, a blush rising in his cheeks far too fast for it to be innocent.

Sirius kissed him. It was a little clumsy, but the important part was that James kissed him back. James's hand was warm on his knee, and Sirius wondered if it would be wildly inappropriate to climb into his lap.

#prongsfoot #marauders #fanfic #james potter #sirius black #lily evans #regulus black #remus lupin #filled #getting together #fusion #no magic au #hogwarts time #siriuslystarbucks #Anonymous

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saladejin · 4 years

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Les Amoureux | Jungkook

Jungkook x Reader | theatre!au, musicals & singing | Fluff and crack, heavy use of musical theatre references

Summary: Your favourite backstage buddy tries his best to crack down on why you’re so attracted to stage actors, but he knows you’ve only got eyes for him in the end.

Warnings: None, having knowledge of some well-known musicals will make this more enjoyable though

Word Count: 2.3k (basically a drabble)

! ! ! READ BEFORE CONTINUING ! ! ! This one-shot has some references to a couple of musicals, and if you're not familiar with these then I'm afraid it might go over your head in some parts. The references are from the shows 'Phantom of the Opera' and 'Les Misérables', and I will leave a note at the end of which songs are included if you wish to listen for yourself. Otherwise, it probably won't make sense and won't be as enjoyable :/ I strongly urge you to listen to this song during the last part of the one-shot, or at least listen beforehand to grasp the dynamics and line exchanges: A Heart Full of Love (I fast-forwarded for you) *Request from my Ao3 series ‘Movie Night’.

“What is it about stage actors that you find so attractive?”

You lifted your head from where you were sewing up a hole in a costume, the frilly pink material bunching up around your hands until you could barely see where the needle was going. Your fellow crew member, Jeon Jungkook, had heaved himself up to sit on one of the nearby desks. Clearly, the poor boy was bored out of his mind.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You smirked, eyeing him in a teasing manner while finishing off the costume repair swiftly.

The late-night musical you guys were helping backstage for had already begun twenty minutes prior, and after having nothing to do for another three songs, you had both ventured down towards the change rooms to get some work done in the meantime. Well, to be fair it was more like you had sought out the jobs while Jungkook just wanted to pass time in the company of his closest theatre friend.

“Surely you’re not blinded by those flashy costumes,” The dark-haired man scrunched his nose up in a playful cringe.

“Think harder, Jeon,” You chuckled at his antics, noticing the way he bounced his leg up and down while he thought. The energetic boy was dressed in all black just as you were, since it was a requirement of all crew members in order to remain unseen by the audience if they needed to be on stage at any point.

You couldn’t help your eyes from wandering along his impressive physique, all pressed up in a black high-necked skivvy and tight black jeans.

“Us crew guys work out just as much as those pretty boys do, probably even more. Plus, I hear the stylists complaining about the hair they have to deal with every night,” Jungkook continued to try and sway your mind, obviously getting a kick out of picking your brain and earning your mild reactions of laughter and amusement in return.

“You think your hair is much better?” You let out a single breath of bewilderment and tried to keep your widening smile at bay. He was too cute in the way his eyes widened and brows furrowed with mock offense, the man reaching a hand up to ruffle his soft looking brown tresses.

“What’s wrong with – hey I’m not done!”

You bit your lip to hold back an amused grin, proceeding to leave the room and make your way down the stairs to return the pink dress to the costume area. The sound of Jungkook’s clunky footsteps let you know he was following closely behind to continue his investigation.

“Oh, I get it.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, it’s the popularity. Being out in the spotlight. The fame and attention that comes with it,” He said in a matter-of-factly tone, and you could hear the playful bunny smile interwoven through his voice as he spoke.

“Is it? And how shallow do you think I am, Jeon?” You quipped, trying to ignore his warm breath brushing the back of your neck once you stopped to pull open the door. The light-hearted and joking attitude he adopted was so radiant, and you swore you would never get enough of his overwhelming charm and charisma.

You turned around after putting the dress down, lifting one finger to point and rest against the skin of your throat so he would catch the hint. Almost instantly, his head was thrown back as the epiphany struck, and a loud ‘ah!’ tumbled from his lips.

“Of course it’s the voice. God, I should’ve seen that from a mile away!” He groaned and met your eyes with his own sparkling coffee-brown ones. You could bet your last dollar that the cheeky guy already knew you had a thing for the stage actors with their beautiful voices and their strong dramatic acting, but he really did love to string you along and push all of your buttons.

“Get me a man who can sing his way to my heart,” You teased once more, knowing that he would instantly be thinking of what to do with this new information. You left him standing in the smaller costume room in his weird daze, wondering what else you could fix up before returning side stage to assist with the ongoing show.

A loud clutter sounded from the room you just left, and you felt a small stab of anxiety that someone would come down here and catch the two of you messing around (even though you were doing your best to be helpful at least), but you only exhaled in relief as Jungkook swept out of the small doorway with a flamboyance even your precious stage actors couldn’t rival.

You rolled your eyes at the goofball of a man in front of you.

“Not doing anything for you?” Jungkook hummed curiously, even though he knew exactly how little his little skit was ‘doing’ for you. Slowly, he peeled the extravagant Indian styled headdress from his dusty brown locks and eyed you with a newfound glint of amusement in his brightening doe eyes.

“Or….” He hummed lowly, eyeing you with a pointed gaze and a cheery lilt to his tone. “It’s not the voice, but rather the song.”

“What?” You felt your brows knit together in confusion.

“Show tunes, there’s not a woman in this world that could resist ‘em,” he continued, not phased in the slightest. You couldn’t help but let a warm feeling of fondness wash over you as he began singing softly. Though you appreciated any decent male vocalist, his voice in particular was your ultimate weakness in the end.

“Night time sharpens; heightens each sensation.”

“Jeon don’t you dare,” You grunted, knowing exactly where this was going. In the midst of the ongoing show upon the stage upstairs, the two of you were quite alone down in the change room area. While the sounds of thumping feet and cascading music echoed from above, you both only fixed your attention on one another.

Jungkook’s eyes gleamed as he left the first line of ‘Music of the Night’ hang in the air precariously, only moving to hide himself behind a rack of costumes a second later. From your seat on one of the makeup artist’s benchtop, you could just catch a tiny glimpse of a shaggy tuft of hair sticking up from behind the line of cloaks.

“You’re so lucky nobody’s-”

You cut yourself off as he rounded the edge of the rack from the other side, now wrapped in a dark midnight black cloak and lifting it to hide half his face. Just like the Phantom of the Opera himself.

“Silently the senses, abandon their defences!”

“Pfft… you’re such a dork,” You cackled and almost went toppling off the benchtop. He lifted one corner of his lips into a smirk and you felt your heart constrict at the sight. He was so charming, yet so silly. You didn’t know whether you wanted to smack him or kiss him right there in the room shrouded in shadow.

Wanting to humour him and his playful antics, you launched yourself off the bench and snatched a curly black wig from a nearby polystyrene head. You didn’t have a white dress, but you were sure he’d catch on.

“Angel of Music…Guide and guardian,” You sang through the various giggles falling from your lips. Your voice, though not terrible, could never match his stunning rendition of the two songs.

“Grant to me your glory~”

His eyes lit up at your eagerness, and he only got into character further by sidling up to you and stroking a delicate hand down the side of your face. The very picture of Christine and the Phantom themselves, you might say. With a dark glint in his eye, Jungkook looked like he was ready to sweep you off your feet, but the next sentence that graced your ears wasn’t what you were expecting to hear.

“Hmm, I don’t know… the words~”

With that you broke your façade and fell into his side, unable to hold back the laugh bubbling in your chest. “Here you are trying to woo me with show tunes, but you don’t know any!”

“Hey!” He gasped and retorted in protest, “I know plenty, thank you very much.”

“Where are they then?” You placed your hands on your hips with one eyebrow raised, knowing just how stupid you looked with the curly wig perched on your head, judging by the way the man in front of you was trying to stifle his shit-eating grin. He was looking rather funny himself with that massive black cloak hiding his entire body, enough so that only his head was poking out the top cutely.

“Um, hold on…”

You pursed your lips in amusement as he rushed away towards another costume rack. Not even wanting to know what he was doing, you stepped away and placed the scratchy wig back in its place.

“Master of the house, doling out the charm; ready with a handshake and an open palm!”

You whirled around to catch your hopeless counterpart as he threw a stained rag over one shoulder and started stumbling around as if in a drunken stupor. You couldn’t contain your peals of laughter at this point, it was all so hilarious and dumb that the show upstairs was all but forgotten. Jungkook found your amusement contagious and broke character almost immediately, watching you affectionately as he leaned against the wall for support.

“You know,” You sighed after coming down from your high, “Pretty much every song in that musical is depressing as fuck.”

The man smirked and made sure to leave the rag folded nicely on the nearest makeup bench, shaking his head roughly to try and get rid of any excess dust from the headdress he wore in the very beginning.

“Yeah, well ‘Les Misérables’ literally translates to ‘the miserable ones’. What can you expect? Help me out here,” He whined, faking an adorable pout while you once again suppressed your foolish smiling.

“I said pretty much every song, not all of them,” You cleared your throat. “You forget how many themes of love and romance are in there, Kookie.”

His eyes brightened at the sound of the nickname. It was rare for you to slip like this, as calling him by his last name or just ‘Jungkook’ was what stuck when you guys were hard at work at the theatre. Outside of that world, your walls would come down slightly and you’d grant him many nicknames and cute terms of friendly endearment. This time, however, your heart had somewhat betrayed you.

“Right,” He smiled softly, tearing his eyes away from you to sweep his hair off his forehead in a rush to clean up his messy act. To you, the movement was unfairly attractive, as it granted a great view of his arms and biceps through the long black sleeves of his shirt. All of a sudden, sweet dulcet melodies in the form of his voice graced your ears.

“A heart full of love…. A heart full of song.”

You almost melted on the spot at the way he sang the beautiful lines, wondering for a split second if they held any deeper meaning from the way his eyes had locked onto you so intensely. He was always like this, gaining such a gentle maturity when you least expected it. You eagerly returned his offer to duet, pushing yourself off the wall to meet him in the centre of the room.

“A heart full of love,” You laughed airily through the line. “No fear. No regret…”

“My name is Je-on Jungkookie,” He sang in a terrible French accent, almost breaking it with a chuckle when you laughed at his sneaky lyric change. It should’ve been ‘Marius Pontmercy’, a principal character from the show, but you let it slide and played along by switching your own line.

“And mine’s (Y/n).”

“(Y/n), I don’t know what to say,” Jungkook continued without fault, taking up your hands in his and giving you a slow spin around the empty space. You wanted to lose yourself in the feeling of his warm embrace and dainty fingers threading through your own.

“Then make no sound,” You almost whispered.

“I am lost,” He sang quietly, pulling you in close.

“I am found,” You leaned forward, feeling his warm breath brush your parted lips ever so slightly. If you both only had the soothing orchestra surrounding you as the scene played out, it would have been undeniably perfect; a tender moment caught in time.

“Do I dream?” He breathed after a few seconds had gone by, almost as if forgetting himself within the song. Your faces were inches apart, and you would’ve forgiven him for skipping an entire verse if he would only close the space between you, a gap you so often wanted gone the more time you spent together like this.

His gentle hands swept your loose strands of hair behind your ear as his doe eyes fluttered shut, leaning closer and closer.

You were ready to finally let him have his way with you, the taste of those pretty lips which were so often stretched into a smile around his adorable bunny-like teeth were right there, but the sound of loud trumpets and thundering footsteps echoing from above pulled you away from his minty scent.

That sounds like…

“Shit, we missed our cue!”

His eyes blew wide and your breath hitched in panic.

Then you were flying up the stairs like there was no tomorrow. Your breathless stream of apologies to the poor people that had to fill in for you seemed to never end, and you felt the guilt eating you up from the inside as you and your pesky crewmate stood rigidly side by side next to the stage manager’s desk.

“Am I irresistible yet?” Jungkook murmured while letting his elbow nudge your arm. It was hard to see due to dark lighting, but you could easily make out the man’s knowing smirk and the gleam in his impish gaze.

“Take my cleaning duty for the week, Jeon, and I’ll think about it.”

Songs included (I fast-forwarded to the timestamps for you guys):

Phantom of the Opera: 'Music of the Night' - Jungkook sings the first line/s 'The Mirror (Angel of Music)' - You sing this Les Misérables: 'Master of the House' - Jungkook sings this line 'A Heart Full of Love' - linked in the beginning notes -------------------------------------------------------------------- A/N- Hope this was somewhat okay. I love musicals so it kind of ran away from me, and I know that not many people probably share this love or knowledge of them. I'm so sorry T-T Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #BTS jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook crack #musicals #one-shot #phantom of the opera #les miserables #reader insert #this is so cringeworthy i'm sorry #i truly am #this happened out of nowhere #please dont judge me #lol

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bellasharifuddin · 3 years

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The Day I Became a Mother

It’s been a while since I last post anything here, typing feels awkward as well. But this has always been a thing that I wanted to do since the day I’ve given birth, to document and blog about my pregnancy and my birth journey, so in 4-5 years to come when my memories fade, I can always come back to reminisce every detail that I keep here, like a memory capsule.

The Day I Found Out I Was Pregnant.

You know, when people say that when you have a strong intuition about something, trust your gut feeling, because it’s often true. Mirin and I have always talked about having kids, me wanting a baby so much within months after we got married, however, Mirin having second thoughts about it. We were both married for less than a year, sleeping on a toto without a mattress or a bed, living in the deep slum of Wangsa Maju area where the rats are larger than the cats. Hahaha. Naturally, given our circumstances, he’d want to take things slow.

Fast forward to a couple of months, we went out for some steaks and karaoke on a weekend night. I told mirin to stop by Watsons, for me to buy a pregnancy test kit. Mirin didn’t question much, because occasionally I would randomly buy one, just for fun. But this time, I didnt just get one. I ended up buying three. Why? Because somehow, I had a strong feeling this time. I just felt... weird. It was a feeling that I can’t put it into words.

We came home at midnight, I went to the bathroom too “pee on the stick”. Then I saw the first line... a few seconds later comes the second one. Oh my god. Okay. I knew Mirin was standing outside the toilet door, waiting. Eventually, I had to break the news to him. When I showed to Mirin, we both ended up hugging and crying. Was I happy? Was I in shock? Was I sad? Yes, a little bit of everything. Its funny that all you’ve wanted was a baby, then when it actually happens, suddenly you’re freaked out. Happy that its a blessing. Sad that it hits you without a warning.

Pregnant!

When the morning sickness finally kicked in, I knew we couldn’t live in the current house. Its not the best place to raise a child. And the next-door neighbor was having major renovation that was super loud and noisy. After sleepless nights and searching for a new place, we eventually moved out. Bought our first bed, bought our first dining table, bought our first gas stove. A many of firsts. Soon we finally bought a baby cot from Ikea. We bought it too early. Although it was too early to put it up, but Mirin assembled it anyways. I could tell that he was excited. It was such a fun and exciting moment, for the both of us.

But those were the fun part. Like most pregnancies, the not so fun part about being pregnant was me being diagnosed with Pregnancy Hypertension during my 36th week of pregnancy. My blood pressure spiked up to 140/100 on two consecutive readings, and the next thing I know, that I’m sitting in an ambulance, on my way to Hospital Kuala Lumpur’s emergency building.

At Hospital Kuala Lumpur. Waiting for an available bed

Mirin bought me the entire family mart food available xD

I spent 3 nights in their maternity wards, finally discharged after the doctor told me that I was clear to go. While I was in the hospital, it pains me to see new mothers struggling during the COVID19 pandemic. Throughout your stay, no visitations were allowed from anyone including your husband. If your baby cries or if you’re in pain, you’d have figure it out yourself. I remember praying to god while crying that I do not want to be induced there. The ward was stuffy and hot. There were too many people crammed in a room. It was hell.

The Day That I Give Birth

One week after my discharge, we both went for my monthly checkup with my OBGYN at Pantai. Again, my doctor advised me to be induced tomorrow, since my blood pressure spiked again, and I was almost full term (38 weeks) so it was okay to go. She told me that “It’s best to get the baby out or else you boleh kena sawan” OMG Okay okay. So we packed our bags, ate sushi for dinner, slept soundly for the very last time, and headed to the hospital again at 9 am the next morning.

Induction day. We definitely overpacked haha

Arrived at the hospital lobby, did a mandatory swab test before entering

Appointment card. Booked and paid for the accommodations prior to checking in

I was told to change into my labor robe (I’m not too sure what it’s called), and waited. When my doctor finally arrived, she then began to insert some sort of a plastic strip deeeeeep into my cervix. Ouch, that hurts. Okay, so that’s how induction works eh? Then I was given antibiotics into my IV drip too, since I was GBS (Group-B Strep) Positive as well.

Toilet selfie! Calm before the storm

After an hour, I felt the contraction. Initially it was uncomfortable, then it hurts like hell. The contractions felt like period pain but like a million times worse. Occasionally, Doctor Haslinda would come and check on my “bukaan”. Hours passed. 1cm... 2cm... 3cm.... when I finally said:

“Omg sakit sangat dah tak tahan, I want an epidural!“

Ok no, that was a lie. I initially didn’t want to take an epidural. I wanted to try and bear with the pain, but Mirin convinced me to take it, so after tossing and turning like a dying fish I finally said okay.

The anesthesiologist came after what felt like an eternity, and asked me to sign a consent form. I’m not really sure what was written in that. Siapa je ada masa nak baca terms and conditions panjang panjang bila tengah contractions???

He told me to sit on the edge of the bed, while hugging a pillow. I remembered him injecting some numbing spray, then I felt the BIG NEEDLE poking through my spine. Then.. that was it. It was so fast. The entire process took only 5 mins. Was it painful as I thought it would be? No. Was it still scary tho? Yep hahaha.

Soon after, Dr Haslinda pecahkan air ketuban when I was 4cm dilated. It didnt hurt because I was on epidural, but I felt so much warm liquid flowing out non-stop. So bizarre.

Once you’re on epidural, you’re basically bed-ridden. No bathroom trips anymore, my legs feel like jelly. Sometimes the nurse will come to empty my bladder with a catheter. When the epidural kicked in, I could finally sleep. I slept like a baby. I slept for hours. Painless. No more feeling like a dying fish. And so I thought.............

3am. I woke up with INTENSE CONTRACTION PAIN. Why is it so painful? I thought I’m on epidural? I called the nurse straight away. Turned out the epidural drug ran out. It was sooo stressful because the nurse that was on duty that night didn’t know how to topap balik the epidural drug into the machine. She called her colleague, then the colleague also tak tahu. Then both of them spent like forever to troubleshoot how to use the machine, sampai lastly kena call doctor tanya. YA ALLAH, rasa macam nak maki je.

7am the next day. Bukaan baru 7-8cm. Doctor decided to use another form of induction to speed up the process. It’s called pitocin, and injected through my IV drip. Within MINUTES, I could feel very intense and painful contractions, that the epidural can’t even help. So throughout the remaining 7cm to 10cm, I felt every inch of real labor pain. I clenched Mirin’s hand. So tightly that I think it got bruised. A minute felt like an hour, and an hour felt like years. It was soo bad that my memory was so fuzzy.

Finally, it was 10cm. Time to go. They put both of my legs up, macam gambar bawah ni haha:

Picture courtesy from Google

There were two nurses, one small cute Malay nurse, one pregnant Indian nurse, and my OBGYN, Dr Haslinda. I love them all, they were so supportive and nice to me throughout my labor process. My doctor taught me how to push correctly:

“Take a deeeeeeep breath then tahan, clench your fists, chin down and teran macam nak berak sekuat-kuat hati“

I was so determined to get the baby out. I just wanted the contraction pain to end. I did everything they told me to do. I hold on to Mirin’s hand, and PUSHHHHHHHEDDDDDD! I could hear Mirin saying “You’re doing great sayang!” After several pushes, and some sips of water breaks, the baby’s head is almost out. The head was the hardest to push. Besar! I literally felt like my down there was stretching to its limit. Once the head is out, I did another small push, and the rest of the baby’s body macam keluar instantly macam super slimy like that haha.

Finally the baby is out! 8.26AM! The contractions stopped immediately. I instantly feel like I wasn’t pregnant anymore. The doctor then injected something on my thigh, then my uri just popped right out haha. My body felt so tired, but so so light. Lega, yay no longer pregnant haha. I ended up having second degree perineal tear without an episiotomy, and was stitched. I felt the benang, ngilu. I felt the needle pierced through my muscles too. But it didnt hurt so it wasn’t too bad.

The baby gets cleaned up. Then soon all of the nurses left the labor room, it was just me, Mirin and our baby. Mirin picked her up, and azankan. Mirin started crying, I cried too. It was magical :’)

We did skin to skin and tried breastfeeding for the first time. As I look at her, hair was so thick. Her cute little fingers. Her beautiful face. She’s perfect.

I slept for 5 hours straight after the labor

Thinking back, I have no idea how I managed to muster such courage to go through all these. Mirin even told me that during the active labor stage, when I was pushing, at one point I pushed so hard that my entire face turned blue. Talk about adrenaline.

Do I want to have another baby? Well, lets keep a rain check on that question for another few more years to come xD

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