#truly i was lost in the stranger things sauce this year | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

flydotnet · 8 months ago

Text

Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where I give myself stupidly niche requests according to this marvelous card... or something. It's been three years dawg. (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled).

You dislike me, Princess Ivy? We each have our tastes, I suppose, but…this makes me sad.

It's a bit of an unorthodox take on "Take Me Instead" that's tailored to my tastes, but what is fanfiction if not an expression of a thing you like? Yeah, exactly.

I may have lost myself during the making of this fanfic. Got lost in the sauce, you could say. It's very verbose and static, and I lost sight of what this fic was originally going to be about. Or was it ever about anything that wasn't writing an interaction vaguely based on a bond conversation that amused me? I'm not sure of either.

This is probably super OOC because I already don't write Camilla in a canon-compliant way, so… watch out for that! It was fun to write anyway. God I love Kagetsu so much, he truly is babygirl-coded.

The title is a bit random. I honestly didn't have better that wasn't a title I saw used elsewhere, so… oops.

-----------

Rice Vinegar

Summary: Camilla has a discussion with Kagetsu after a very rough battle against the Corrupted - out of concern and misunderstanding. Self-sacrifice is a truly ugly thing.

Fandom: Fire Emblem Engage

Word Count: 2.8K words

AO3 version available here.

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo.

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

Camilla has never been a stranger to death and bodily harm – quite the opposite, really. When she was alive, she often was the one inflicting this harm onto others, either in self-defence or in a genuine attempt to take down her enemies. It was her father’s overly ambitious mistresses, it was a mindless shell of a soldier threatening harm on her brother, it was – they all died, or died again, to her hand, her axe, her wyvern. And she had no regret about it whatsoever.

Nothing and nobody was ever sacred, when she was alive. Even alliances could fickle and she’d draw blood again. She had grown up in an environment where it made it all too easy to justify violence for all sorts of reasons, selfish or selfless, with or without consequences. It never came to pass, thanks to her dear Corrin, but the fear was here until the end of her days.

Camilla has, however, never been a stranger to self-sacrifices – mostly from other people.

She gets it, in essence. She, too, felt unconditional love for her siblings and her children, knew when to risk in a hit to save a friend, heard all of the speeches – a brother sacrificing his health for his country, a sister always ready to help anyone out of the kindness of her heart, a neighbour country’s values of honour and solidarity at times trampling a need for self-preservation. Duties and passion, abnegation, causes worth losing a life for.

It’s a noble feeling, even if noble isn’t exactly… what she’s been known for. But she gets it, she truly does – the urge to sacrifice something, that is. Her own life, though? That’s another thing. How could she protect her siblings and fight for her kingdom if she was dead? Sacrificing someone else was fine, as long as it wasn’t someone she had to protect, including herself.

Evidently, the person to who she’s been assigned doesn’t see it the way she does.

She came to learn that when in the heat of battle. They were all surrounded by flows of the Corrupted, unrelenting, the distant cackle of Griss coming to her hears. Kagetsu himself was flanked by Prince Diamant and Princess Ivy, his own liege, sword drawn and ready to strike, while flames burned in the distance and smoke stung his eyes. Despite the fact he had just exhausted his power to engage with her, she could still feel the way his legs cramped, the twitch in his sword arm after using it for so long and, most of all, the pain of the one injury he had sustained.

She couldn’t communicate with him much in this context, so she could only worry about him and the way he wouldn’t ask Princess Ivy for a quick heal with the staff she carried on her back – while she was busy blasting away with Bolganone in hands, Diamant could keep the Corrupted away for long enough so Ivy could patch her retainer.

He then froze. An archer had his eyes set on Ivy. She had her eyes somewhere else. A bleeding wound adorned her right thigh.

She couldn’t quite see Kagetsu’s face with the smoke and the way she had to hover without obscuring his vision, but what she felt spoke more than enough for him. Adrenaline pulsed in his body, so did an urge to protect his friends, and no thought was spared to his own safety. Like a good retainer, he’d throw it all away for the sake of his liege, exchanging his life for hers.

No, don’t take Princess Ivy! She heard his heart cry. Take me instead!

He rushed ahead, what was left of his ponytail dangling in the wind, blood already flowing from his left leg yet leaving no limp behind.

Diamant’s voice acted before his body ever did.

“Kagetsu, wait—”

But it was too late. His blade had already struck the archer, and an arrow had already lodged itself in his abdomen.

It’s since then all crashed down on poor, poor Kagetsu, who got sternly recommended to keep the bed by a child maybe half his size. Unable to protest in his state, he was no match for the youthful resilience of Jean, doctor in becoming, with assistance from stubborn Steward Framme. It’d have been cute, if she didn’t feel concern and so much of Kagetsu’s shame through the bracelet he was still holding on to.

Even now, watching over him in bed, she feels the shame, watches him try to toss and turn, only for his teeth to grit together. It’s an upsetting thing, even with her experience; they’re friends, and friends don’t ever like seeing their friend suffer in any way.

“I don’t understand it,” he tells her, even if it comes off as thinking out loud.

“What don’t you understand?”

Through their bond, she can tell he is upset – anxious, even, which comes off as a foreign concept to someone like Kagetsu. Moral pain like this is something that clashes with his usual personality. Perhaps there are more layers to him than she’d have thought?

“I don’t understand why Princess Ivy and Prince Diamant were so… upset. It’s like I did something wrong and it’s hurt them!”

Ah, figures.

Camilla did easily read the anguish on Ivy’s face, yes. She could tell with one insisting gaze that she was going through a lot of emotions, and while she isn’t able to tell with perfect accuracy due to not being linked to her at the moment, she can hazard a very solid guess as to what she was thinking – if just because their experiences haven’t been so different and because Kagetsu, ever the social butterfly, sees his liege a lot of the time and chats her up into unveiling some information about herself.

Although, there may be very little guessing on her part required to begin with, when she had the aftermath of the seemingly senseless sacrifice play out before her very eyes.

As soon as Ivy had finished defeating the Corrupted obscuring her view and flanking her, she had glanced back at her retainer, who now had an arrow in his side – a feat rare enough to be cited, both for the very fact it wasn’t in an easier area to reach, and for it to have lodged itself between two ribs.

She was about to scream his name, from what Camilla could see near the bracelet; but her voice was caught in her throat before she could, right as Kagetsu folded like paper onto himself.

The staff she was clutching in her hands was on the verge of rupturing, Diamant was bleeding from what Camilla could guess to be a deep gash in his side, but he insisted on her using it on Kagetsu, by virtue of him still standing and the swordman not, spotting the arrival of Framme.

So Ivy used the remaining energy left in the staff on her retainer, the tool breaking into dust as his eyes fluttered back open, an extraordinary weight to his eyelids preventing them from opening fully. His leg wound was now doing better, but the arrow remained in his chest. Right as she asked him, almost without a breath, how he was doing, his sole answer was smiling.

“I’m glad you are fine, Princess Ivy,” he said before falling back asleep.

Ivy wasn’t handling it as well as one whose father and concubines led a life of debauchery and deadly power games should’ve, in Camilla’s eyes, but she understood it. Beruka and Selena were far more important to her than political games, at the end of the day. Associate a name, a voice and a personality to a body, and then you’re suddenly much more affected by their blood flowing from their wounds. Figures.

Still, she carried on nonetheless: she brought Kagetsu on top of her wyvern to safety, watched the battle end by Diamant’s side, asked about the way he limped, scrutinized his denial, asked Framme to look at it. Kept an eye on Kagetsu. Almost refused treatment to be bedside vigil. Discussed his stillness with Zelkov, who didn’t even bother hiding all sorts of concerns. Let Jean take a look at her wound, in silence. Remained there once it was bandaged. Still watched over Kagetsu, stoic anguish never vanishing.

“Why did he do such a thing?” She asked, thinking out loud, at long last. “Putting himself in harm’s way on purpose… How reckless of him.”

There was no surprise in her voice.

“I suppose he did so to protect you,”

There was also no surprise in Zelkov’s as he replied.

“I can defend myself just fine.”

Diamant stared at the scene in silence from where he sat, nearby, face distorted.

“As any retainer would do,” he commented, eyes squinted, nailed into the form of his colleague.

“Then may he never do that again,” she immediately retorted, clutching her arms even closer to the rest of her body. “I’d have survived that without issue. He didn’t need to kill himself over me.”

The protest wasn’t a matter of pride, or else, Zelkov might’ve commented on it.

“I’m afraid it might happen again in any upcoming battle,” he told her instead. “Kagetsu and I have the mission to serve and protect you.”

“Even at the cost of your life?”

“Yes, even if it might cost us our lives.”

“Absolutely repulsive.” She was on the verge of crying. “Is he going to be fine…?”

“He should be,” Framme chimed in, now that she was done with Diamant’s leg.

“Should be?”

Framme’s shoulders shot up, stiff.

“It’s, uh… never certain. But he really should be okay! Jean’s just gonna check him over once he can and he’ll be able to go on his merry way! After some rest, of course.”

“He better be fine after this is all said and done. I won’t let him throw his life away for… such pointless reasons! I can’t… lose anyone again. Not after Hortensia and I had to…”

She didn’t finish her sentence, but judging by Zelkov and Diamant’s reactions, she didn’t need to.

Grief may’ve been the one thing linking the three of them together.

Once more, this doesn’t seem to be how Kagetsu views it – or perhaps he lacks knowledge of it. Losing blood and going through intense pain does tend to tinge someone’s memory or even bleach them away. Let her see how he conceives it, then.

“You didn’t do something wrong per say,” she starts explaining, for a second picturing a sister’s confusion at their brother’s upset. “But you did something that would bring pain to those who’re closest to you, dear.”

“In what way?” He sounds so genuinely confused, and in that moment, Camilla can only understand Ivy’s pain even further. “All I did was defend my friends. Princess Ivy could have been severely hurt.”

“What about Prince Diamant? I recall you being injured as well even before the arrow struck, Kagetsu.”

“He could have gotten hurt too.”

He ignores the second part entirely, then.

“But he was just as qualified as you were to take the enemy down before they could struck Princess Ivy.”

“I’m Princess Ivy’s retainer,” he chews back, even if it lacks strength (very much because his body has all sorts of protests against the exertion). “It’s my mission to keep her safe. It is not Prince Diamant’s mission.”

Camilla wants to ask if this could apply to Zelkov as well, only to bite back on it because asking seems to be a bit of pointless endeavour.”

“Then I suppose I can only hope to make you understand why they both were so upset, Kagetsu.”

His face lightens up.

“Oh, pray and tell! It sounds like very useful information to know.”

She shifts, crossing her arms and float-sitting on the empty chair next to the bed. Framme left a little while ago, but not without a promise to come back soon. It was something about a potion and reinforcement, if she recalls correctly, but this isn’t the focus of her thoughts.

“I too had retainers in my lifetime. They were both very dear to me, to a point where it pained me when they’d get hurt, especially on my behalf.” She sighs. “Of course, protecting one’s liege is the most important mission of a retainer, and both Princess Ivy and I understand that. Still, it didn’t mean I didn’t feel guilt for letting them get hurt on my behalf – or getting hurt at all, come to think of it.”

“You would feel… guilt?”

“Among all sorts of negative emotions, yes.”

“But then, why feel upset?”

“Because they were people who I cared deeply about, and like you, I didn’t like seeing my loved ones hurt in any way. I’ve killed for them, and I’d do it again even today.” He looks slightly horrified, which prompts her to let go a little of the bloodied details of a life long past gone. “Princess Ivy cares about you in a similar way, so even if you think you did good protecting her, she’s been upset to see you hurt – just like you’d have been would your positions have been inverted.”

“So, I caused Princess Ivy pain because she cares for me?”

“Indeed.”

He remains silent for a moment, leaning back into the pillow. He looks defeated.

“Then, if I had avoided that arrow… She would not have been hurt.”

This really isn’t what Camilla wanted him to conclude. What a stubborn soul.

Unfortunately, before she can disprove his flimsy theory, he continues.

“I wish my strange powers would not be so useless. If they were not, then perhaps… perhaps I could have seen it coming, and I could have protected Princess Ivy without upsetting her by getting hurt.”

“This isn’t what I wanted you to understand,” she replies. “Your powers may’ve stopped it from happening this time, but it wouldn’t fix the issue.”

His eyes, which are still slightly glazed over, grow wider, before his face hardens again.

“What would fix the problem, then, Camilla?”

He asks that with a flame in his eyes and no chill going down his spine – a far cry from a moment ago. The bright smile has always hidden a sharp blade underneath, and now, it’s pointed towards her, light lining its edge.

“Sometimes, you can’t avoid getting hurt, especially in combat. Ivy understands that as much as you do. However, what hurt wasn’t that you were in pain.” She marks a pause. “What hurt her was that you got hurt in her stead, when you were already hurt and actively hiding it from her. She blames herself for what happened, and combined with the concern it caused her, it was painful to go through. I’d even go as far as to say she’s wondering if you trust her.”

“Oh…”

The lack of bite tells her this is finally dawning on him.

“I know you tried to do good, and deep down, I know Ivy understands that as well. She only got concerned, but that’s why you can’t always jump in front of danger and take hits for other people. What if you had been more grievously injured than you thought? Or worse, what if the blow had been fatal?”

“I see… how that would cause a lot of bad things.”

“Ivy cares about you as a person, and by doing that, you hurt her by accident, just like she would if she got injured in front of you. It’s a fine line to walk, because while you had good intentions, most of the consequences were the complete opposite of what you wanted. You also need to think of your self-preservation, when you think of taking a hit for someone else.”

“I am starting to see…”

“I don’t expect you to learn all of this in one go. If your culture is anything like Hoshido’s, it promotes sacrifice for the sake of the greater good. At least, this is what I got from fighting alongside Hoshidians.”

“Oh, please tell me more! I am curious to know about-”

A knock on the door.

“It’ll have to wait until next time, I’m afraid. It seems like you’ve got a visitor.”

“Oh!” He lightens up. “Come on in, friend!”

The door opens to unveil a slightly less anxious Ivy: her shoulders are hanging lower, her eyebrows are unknitted, and her hands aren’t fiddling as much as they did when Framme was looking over her retainer.

“It’s good to see you’re awake, Kagetsu,” she says with a timid smile. “How are you feeling?”

“A little sore, but I am alive, and soon enough, I will be full of vigour again!”

“I’m certain you will,” she chuckles, but the laugh disappears quickly. “There are things I want to discuss with you.”

She sits down, gaze unfaltering, at which point Camilla decides they deserve some privacy.

#bad things happen bingo #fire emblem #fire emblem engage #camilla (fe14)#kagetsu (fe17)#diamant (fe17)#framme (fe17)#take me instead #bthb

4 notes · View notes

nappingmoon · 4 months ago

Text

choso x reader fluff :)

desc: a meet cute with the best older brother in the world <3

w.c. 1.5k

choso grew up raising his brothers. it was always his job to keep them safe, to teach them by example and get them out of trouble if they ever stumbled into it. when his parents died a few months after his eighteenth birthday, choso took custody of his little brothers-- there wasn't even a moment of hesitation in his mind. he would be there for the most important people in his life because he is their older brother, no ifs, ands, or buts.

caring for three young boys who eat their weight in food was not easy. choso picked up three jobs and spent most of those first years with his time entirely split between working and talking with his little brothers. he would schedule his jobs so that he could leave breakfast made in the morning before the boys woke up and run home during his lunch break to whip up their afterschool meal before running back. during the three hour break between his main two jobs, he would chat with his brothers and cook up dinner, which was always ate at the table. he cherished this time, soaking up the boys' expressions at the first bite. though he was on a budget, meal and ingredient prepping on sundays helped him keep track of what he could use to make the meals go farther and also gave him a bit of time to get creative with the dishes. he liked to surprise his brothers by mixing in their favorite foods with unique ingredients he found in the grocery clearance section. these times were the was able to truly relax and see the fruits of his efforts reflected back at him. his brothers were safe, content, and had full bellies each night.

when eso and kechizu are of the age to work and help out at the house, choso lets go of one of the jobs, prioritizing making it to all of yuujis baseball games and trying to be more present in their lives. he gets more creative in the kitchen, baking breads, making sauces, and diversifying the plates even more. he invests in better pans and still considers the family dinners to be the most important thing in his life.

but then his brothers keep growing. kechizu and eso leave for college and trades. yuuji is a senior in highschool and he has more clubs and friends. nightly dinners turn into weekly dinners turn into "i'll try to stop by but i've got this thing..." . he doesn't know how to handle his baby brothers leaving the nest. he doesn't need to throw himself into work anymore, having saved enough and worked up in rank and salary over the years, but he finds himself missing the busyness because now he just sits and thinks about the fact that his brothers are away from him.

then, you happen. he's walking through the grocery store, mentally planning out this week's dinner and trying to prevent himself from getting too much (his brain is still wired to prepare portions for his little brothers. despite being aware of this, choso can't help but make more than enough, always hoping that his little brothers will show up at his door, hungry and eager for another one of his meals.) when you accidentally bump into him.

"oh my god, I am so sorry, did I hurt you?" you ask, despite the fact that it is you who is on the floor and he who seems completely unharmed by your slip.

choso extends a hand to you and you take it, watching as the muscles in his arm move to help you up. "I am okay, are you?"

"yes, yes, thank you for helping me up" you say, as you dust yourself off and adjust your hair, cheeks warming a touch at the fact that you just fell on the floor in front of one of the most handsome men you have ever seen. "I was trying to pull out that bag of rice when my hand slipped and i lost my balance! I usually just by the bags of microwavable rice but my niece is spending the next week at my house and I want to feed her good food. I think rice should be easy enough but I didn't know these bags were so heavy and oh my god I am rambling about rice to a stranger. I am so sorry, thank you for helping me, I won't take any more of your time goodbye!" you turn around and just as you step towards your cart, eager to leave this mortifying situation in the past and text your best friend that you just fumbled a man that looks the grown version of your teen hot topic dream boy, a hand reaches out to halt you.

"you forgot your rice," his deep voice reaches your ears and you find your emotions at war, both humiliated but also stunned at how hot a man can sound when saying a household food item. "this is a good brand, and jasmine rice goes well with most dishes. you have a good eye." you turn around and watch as he bends over to grab the bag, straightening up like it weighs no more than a feather and coming around to place it in your cart. "do you have any recipes in mind?"

you're sheepish when you respond "I, uh, saw some things online but I have been on my own for a while and never really got too into cooking since it's just me. I probably have consumed more instant ramen and microwave meals than any person should in a lifetime." you avoid his eyes as you confess, lightly embarrassed to still have the eating habits of a college student despite having graduated some years ago. "I was just going to look up easy yummy recipe books and try my hand at anything with less than 10 steps."

choso surprises you, and himself, if he's being honest, when he opens his mouth next. "I can teach you, if you'd like." and when you look back up with him with eyes that gleam like he'd just offered you a million dollars, he can't find it in himself to want to take back his words.

and so you find yourself swapping kitchens, familiarizing yourself with his and he filling yours with essentials that he cant figure out how you have lived without all this time (who doesn't have pepper in their house?). even after he gets you to the point where you can feed your niece at least three different homemade meals, and she is back with her mother, you find yourself missing the small lessons. you reach out to him, using the number he gave you in case you needed a quick kitchen tip or question, and ask if he would mind continuing the lessons. you make up some excuse, and he accepts eagerly.

one day, yuuji will walk into an animated duo behind the kitchen counter. the house is usually quiet but this time there seems to be an argument-- he can catch pieces like "i can't measure with my heart i need a number!" and a disbelieving "you did not just add baking soda instead of powder." the sight he is greeted by is his older brother in an apron, hands on his hips and looking down in confusion-- and a possible twinge of adoration?-- at an apron clad figure covered in flour. it takes a moment before he is even noticed and choso gulps at the realization that he was so invigorated by you that he lost track of time. he clears his throat, trying to find the words to explain but remaining speechless at his worlds colliding like this.

you take the initiative. "hi! you must be yuuji! your brother never shuts up about you, he's always got great things to say. it's nice to finally meet you." you say, giving him your name at the end. "choso is trying to teach me how to bake but I think I might be a lost cause."

as choso watches the two of you interact, he feels his heart swell. seeing you go back and forth with his precious little brother is enough to tip him over the edge.

he asks you out that night, just as you take your first bite of the bread you finally managed to make together.

you choke on it, inhaling the small piece of the loaf in your surprise. after you manage to get it out, sipping on the glass of water he got you to ease your cough, he begins to laugh. "was that a yes or did the question repulse you so much you thought it better to die than to answer?" he asks.

you consider throttling him for nearly causing your early demise and then making fun of you, but as your hands approach his neck, they pull him to you instead of squeezing. your kiss, however, seems just as effective at taking his breath away.

for some reason I feel like choso would be really good at cooking.

#spreading my jasmine rice agenda #choso fluff #choso x reader #choso jjk #ecriture #divider from @/strangergraphics archive #me when i make every fav f/o of mine love acts of service

6 notes · View notes

bontenten · 3 years ago

Text

Bewitch

Pairings: Osamu x F!Reader x Atsumu; Miyacest WC: 7.4k Genre/Warnings: smut, fairytale retelling (Hansel and Gretel), magic au, dubcon/noncon, incest (miyacest), fear, knife, monster, bondage, snuff, vore, gore/blood, object insertion, body horror, a bit of size, tummy bulge, oral (m.receiving), anal (m. receiving), masturbation (f. & m.), voyeurism, arson...

Summary: The unexpected guests at your cottage have a mysterious past and hidden agenda. Will they allow you to accompany them on their journey?

Travelers are advised not to spend the night in the Dark Woods. It's said that beyond the last hiking trail, past a brook, lives an Evil Witch. That witch is vile and merciless; often, fools lost in the woods are never seen again. It's said that she must be over 800 years old, feeding off of the essences of children and young men unfortunate enough to cross her paths. It’s said that she even eats fellow witches. No one really knows. After all, no one who has seen her has lived to tell the tale.

It's been a few months since your teacher has left you to fend for yourself here in the woods—your first time alone during this apprenticeship. She said she had to attend a big conference with a whole bunch of other grand witches. You asked if you could tag along, but she insisted that you stay and watch the cottage. The lack of company is about to drive you insane so you often resort to conversing with yourself or the forest itself.

The soft moss muffles the sound of your footsteps as you begin the trek back home, a faint off-trail path away from the main road that no one else would usually notice. On any other day, you would just go home without a fuss, but loneliness makes people do some bizarre and odd things. For instance, the desperate longing for companionship leads to you dropping a not-so-hidden trail of fancy pebbles to inadvertently lead someone to your abode.

For most travelers, going off-trail is akin to a death sentence as any wrong turn might lure them into the forest's deadly maze. Not for you though, you know this place very well: every fallen tree, overturned log, the wanted signs nailed to the trunk...

Wait. A wanted sign?

You can make out from your distance that there are two heads on it, but the details are fuzzy, and the bounty looks smudged. Before you can get a closer look, you hear the birds caw in the trees, signaling the beginning of sunset. You pull your attention away from the poster and continue on to your way home.

The cottage is extremely cozy and warm. The windows are bejeweled and the door is solid wood. You live here comfortably with your teacher, after all, learning about the principles of magic and what it means to be a witch. It's much more than curses and spells, as your teacher would tell you, witches have character and a moral compass. Although there are certainly those who decide to experiment with the darker arts.

While you get a fire going in the huge furnace and boil some water on the stovetop, you hear two voices squabbling outside followed by three raps on the door. You're stunned by the noise, turning to face the shut door wondering if you were just dreaming about the noise. Is it? Visitors? No, you must have heard wrong.

"'Samu, I bet it's a farce, let's not." The voice sounds both tired and weary, almost out of breath.

"Let me just try again, I can smell a working kitchen in there, someone is definitely there," another voice insists. Three more knocking sounds. "Excuse me! Is the owner of the house available? My brother and I followed a path of colored stone and came upon your establishment...could you spare us some water? A bite of food?"

Two men, though they sound friendly. You're frozen in the kitchen, staring at the door that remains between you and the strangers.

"Is there someone home?" The second voice tries again. "Please, my brother is not feeling very well."

Your initial wariness for the stranger melts when you hear about the brother, which does not sound like a lie based on the raspy voice you first hear. A witch's character is fundamentally kind to all sentient beings, especially those in need. But you're still nervous, so you end up grabbing a metal ladle before carefully going to open the door. When you crack the door open, you see a pair of twins. Beautiful men, one blonde and one grey-haired. The former, with a quirky grin, although his eyes certainly look lackluster. But the other seems like he's at the right place, eyes peering past you into your home, fixated on your kitchen.

"I'm Osamu. And this," he gestures to his twin, "is my brother Atsumu. We're a bit lost, you see."

You nod your head in a casual greeting and introduce yourself as the resident apprentice at this cottage. As a good host should, you open the door to the weary guests preparing to welcome them in.

"Are we welcomed in?" Osamu asks, not moving from his spot. Atsumu isn’t budging either, arms crossed and only looking at you from the corner of his eye, waiting for your answer.

Without giving much thought you nod and open the door wider. "Both of you are most welcomed in."

"Then we thank you for your hospitality," Osamu says, taking a step inside, dragging his twin with him.

Words, especially spoken words carry power and hold intent. And a witch's words, no matter how careless they slip out, contain magic. Welcome, as you say. So welcome, they are.

You shut the door behind them and prepare to go give your first-ever guests some water. When you turn around, you notice Osamu already in the kitchen, the sleeves of his tunic rolled up past his elbows.

"Your food is about to burn. Heat's too high," he tells you, expertly taking control of the sizzling pots and pans. "I got it, don't worry."

Feeling flustered at the faint smell of scorching food, you hurry over to see if you can be of any assistance. "Let me help out."

"No, it's quite alright."

How can a host let her guests do all the work like that? And the first company in a while too! What an utter failure.

"How—" you try to argue back, but you're cut off by Atsumu tugging on your wrist, dragging you over to the sofa in the corner.

"Don't worry about him, he loves to cook." Atsumu brushes out the wisps of his bangs with a huff. "And actually quite good at it. Anything that goes through his hands...well, in short, all become part of his design."

Like his twin, Atsumu's frame is broad and huge, but there is a quality of emptiness of sorts. Osamu's shoulders are wide but there's more substance to it, whereas Atsumu's form seems contained. You can't help but use your learnings to see if you can figure out just what's off about Atsumu. He's slowly walking around the living room and studying the portraits hanging on the wall. He picks up a frame that is set above the fireplace and comments, "None of these are you. How come?"

"Oh, they're my teacher. I'm just a witch-in-training at the moment, so—"

"A witch?" Atsumu questions, clenching the frame tightly. His hands begin to shake, the glass under his thumb beginning to crack.

You did not expect Atsumu to display such a visceral reaction upon the mention of witches. After all, witches normally stayed far away from ordinary human society and when they do mix, it's often a role of healing. But the look that sparks in Atsumu's eyes, it's almost—feral.

"'Tsumu!" Osamu yells while stalking over quickly from the kitchen. He throws his arm around Atsumu's neck and drags him off into the shadows. You can't make out the muffled voices and deep growling noises that are coming from down the hall.

It's their private matter, so you go back to the kitchen. True enough, Osamu's hands are almost like magic. The bubbling pot of broth doesn't seem to be on the verge of overflowing, the onions caramelizing beautifully, filling the air with deliciousness.

Moments later, the twins come back. You notice that Osamu clothes are wrinkled from tugging Atsumu around, but at the very least, Atsumu is looking much better than before.

The three of you set the table for dinner. Osamu brings out the plates as though he knows the kitchen inside and out already. Atsumu comes emerging from the cellar with two bottles of fine wine that you didn't even know your teacher had stowed away. Surely, she wouldn't mind? With Osamu and Atsumu sitting to the left and right of you at the round table, it almost feels like a more familiar, cozier gathering between friends than a situation of a host and her guests.

They tell you that they have been traveling across the lands for a long time now, looking for a cure for Atsumu's illness. It reminds you of the hollow, repressed form you saw earlier and your curiosity gets the better of you. They don't tell you the nature of the malady, but what they do share is that they are looking for a witch to undo the curse on Atsumu, a result of dark witchcraft.

"I am a witch!" you exclaim, feeling your call to action at the moment. "Please, is there truly nothing for me to help to undo the spell?"

Osamu leans in close to you, and wipes a bit of sauce staining the corner of your lips with the pad of his thumb. He smiles. "We're looking for a very high-level witch. One day, maybe you'll get to the level of magic needed."

"You're too weak," Atsumu bluntly points out. You're sure Osamu means to say the same thing, but Atsumu's words are really sharp.

"I know," you sigh. "My teacher tells me that all the time. So, I'm really trying. I'm sure there's at least something I can do."

"I definitely think that. Don't be so hard on yourself," Osamu comforts. "Have you been living alone here for a long time?"

You feel two pairs of eyes glued onto you waiting for your answer. You smile reflexively before your eyes trail to the empty plate and carefully choose your words. "Yea. Just me and my teacher. She's a grand witch...maybe if you wait here for a few days, you can meet her when she comes back from her conference."

"We—"

"We'll be gone tomorrow!" Atsumu snaps, staring into Osamu's eyes.

Osamu doesn't pay any mind to Atsumu, and puts an extra piece of dessert onto your plate.

"We have a long way to go. Atsumu's condition isn't getting better, so we can't stop in one place for long."

It makes you a little sad, because you were hoping to spend some more time with the twins, both of whom you have grown fond of. Osamu and his gentleness. And even Atsumu, despite his quick remarks and outbursts, adds a particular spice to your mundane life.

"Maybe we'll bring you with us," Osamu comments lightly, "'Tsumu, wouldn't that be nice?"

"She'll just be dead weight," Atsumu retorts. You wonder if he absolutely hates you. Is that why he is always so against you being next to Osamu?

Osamu puts an arm around you and blows on the shell of your ear. It tickles and you can feel his body enveloping you. "But she's so sweet," he tells Atsumu and whispers into your ear, "Aren't you?"

You find your wandering gaze looking into his half-lidded grey eyes. His face is right next to you, lips just hovering barely five centimeters away. The overwhelming presence of him is undeniably alluring. Your breaths become shallow as your heart rate speeds up with desire.

"I'm exhausted! 'Samu you too. We're going to bed!" Atsumu drops the silverware onto his plate and stands up. He comes around the table, muttering curses under his breath. Atsumu grabs Osamu by the wrist and drags him off towards the guest bedroom you have shown them before.

You didn't quite catch Atsumu's angry mutters, but you hear "slut" and "harlot" thrown around a few times. Were they directed at you? No, you're not like that, you tell yourself. Atsumu must have been thinking that you are trying to seduce his twin. After you clear out the table, you decide to clear up any misunderstanding.

You tip-toe down the hall to the guest bedroom prepared to knock when you hear muffled sounds coming from inside. You carefully press your ears to the crevice of the door and clamp a hand around your mouth upon hearing the stream of moans.

"'Samu, 'Samu please, ah—"

That's Atsumu? Your eyes are wide and still trying to process the shock of what you're hearing. You tell yourself you shouldn't be here. You should not be listening to whatever is happening behind the closed door, but you can't help it. Hearing Atsumu's moans makes you want to squirm.

You slightly jump when you hear a slap, followed with a pleasured groan. The sound is so clean it feels as though the phantom hands are touching your own heated skin.

Osamu's chuckle nearly makes your knees weak.

"Don't get cocky, if it were any other day ngh—, any other day, I would be the one pushing you into the mattress."

Slap. "Shut up, cute 'Tsumu. I like you being so needy for me like this. What do you want from me? Tell me."

"Fuck me, 'Samu."

"With pleasure."

The wood creaks loudly and you tell yourself, you really need to get out as you back away and try to quickly walk down the hall back to your bedroom.

You throw the door open and lock the door behind you with a click. With your eyes closed, you try to steady your breath and the building heat in your core. It's quiet. There's no noise coming from their room. But they are twins!

You remind yourself that a witch is all-accepting and kind. There are so many circumstances beyond your understanding, judgement is not a part of your nature. And if what they are performing is wrong, what should you say about yourself? You peel off your clothes and step out of the soaked panty that is proof of your lust.

Pillows are fluffed and covers are pulled over your body. You try to sleep, but each time you are about to drift, Atsumu's cries of pleasure come back into your head. Your hand trails down your navel until the fingertips trace over your clit. Gathering some slick from your cunt, you drag it across the sensitive bud.

You shudder from the touch as images, constructed in your fantasy, cloud your mind. You imagine Atsumu's hands spreading your legs apart and Osamu's teasing words next to your ear. He would tell you to open wide and shove his cock down your throat. You suck on three of your fingers until lips wrap over the knuckles, your saliva pooling from hunger. And slip your fingers into your cunt easily, curling them against the plush walls.

"F-fuck me," you moan into your pillow.

With pleasure.

You quiver, clit pulsating, and your pussy juice dripping into your palm. The wash from the high soon takes you into sleep. All throughout the night, you squirm and feel the phantom sensation of being watched. Not just observed, but studied, by two pairs of glinting hungry eyes. You can almost imagine them on either side of the bed, trapping you into the mattress no matter which way you turn.

A few times the weird feelings almost pull you awake, but you don't dare crack an eye open to confirm your suspicions until the morning light begins to filter through the windows, rousing you from sleep. The air is filled with fragrant herbs and the sizzle of delicious brunch from someone awake before you.

No doubt, it's Osamu, because who else can it be? Atsumu? Please. The twins....

You climb out of bed and stretch your neck on the way to the washroom. Your bedroom door is open, but it's too early to notice that detail.

"Morning!" Osamu greets you from the kitchen. You find a fresh mug of coffee shoved into your hands from him.

You mumble thanks and sip at the brew while watching Osamu fry the eggs. Osamu looks to be deep in thought, probably thinking about something pleasant from the faint smile ghosting on his face. You feel a pang of guilt from both listening to their private lives, and also the strange feelings that maybe they heard your private life too—it's all your paranoia talking.

"You're so talented," you blurt out, fisting the fabric of your long skirt.

"Thanks, but better not let 'Tsumu hear ya, he gets jealous super easily."

Even if Atsumu hears, it's fine. You really mean both of them. Both of the twins both seem super talented as a duo; like they've been out there and seen the world. Meanwhile, you're still stuck here, without company. Would it be possible...if they simply stayed?

Osamu senses the words that are stuck in your mouth and answers them for you. "We're gonna be leaving right after breakfast. There's still lots of ground to cover today," he explains, plating the pancake before preparing to ladle a spoonful of batter for the next one.

"Do you have to leave?" you ask, almost pleading.

"It's cozy here and comfortable. We enjoy your company too, but we have to go. Your teacher would hate us, immensely, and on top of that...let's just say, we're always on the run."

"You say it like you two are fugitives or something."

Osamu chuckles and leans closer to you, hot breath flaming your cheeks, or maybe it's just the heat from the stove. A teasing grin pulls his cheeks up slightly as your eyes flicker over to see his lips spell out, "Maybe. Scared?"

Embarrassed, you take a defensive step back, squeaking and bumping into another body.

"MORNING!" Atsumu announces behind you. He's in good spirits and he has his hands on your waist to steady you; he sniffs your hair and smiles before letting you go. "I smell something delicious."

"Breakfast is ready," Osamu says, plating the pancakes. "Hungry 'Tsumu?"

"Tch." Atsumu shoves past you and knees Osamu, mood doing a complete 180. You're almost left like a fly on the wall as you watch the scene unfold.

Osamu is quick to catch his balance while keeping watch on the stove. "Not awake yet?" Osamu grins and passes him a plate of pancakes, essentially telling him to shut up and eat. "Who shoved a stick up your ass? Go eat."

"Fuck you."

"Hm."

Atsumu grumbles but digs into his food anyway. Osamu catches your amused expression in the corner and explains, "It's always like that between us. It's our...way of showing how much we care."

"I know." It's sort of endearing, the banter between the two brothers. Even if the world turns against them, no matter what the odds are, at least Miya Osamu will have Miya Atsumu, and Atsumu will have Osamu. Perhaps it's exactly that sort of bond the two share that you're envious of. Body and soul. Because if only you could have just an ounce of that sort of familiarity with another. But you're just an outsider without an invitation to join in.

While you're mulling over your thoughts, you don't catch the darkening gazes being exchanged between the twins. At some point, Atsmu's plate is already emptied and the wooden table is cleared while you're still lost in your mind. Osamu is fiddling with the metal tea strainer, bobbing it up and down to brew a mug of tea. He threads a cotton string in and out like it's a plaything.

"Do you really want to be with us?" Osamu asks nonchalantly. "'Tsumu and I were talking about it. If you do, maybe we can work something out."

"I just..." You feel like this is your final chance to tell them that you don't want them to go. None of the going around circle hinting that you have been doing. This is the moment to just tell it to them. If you miss this chance, you feel like you won't have another. And even though a pit pulls at your inwards telling you to reconsider, you're brave. "I just want to be together with you all, and help you cure Atsumu. My teacher is so talented, I'm sure she'll have a remedy."

They grin.

Osamu is a great cook, he can do that. Atsumu sometimes seems lazy, but he's super strong and quick to help too. And you can pick up all sorts of other tasks in the area! Maybe because they're so helpful, your teacher will even let them stay once Atsumu is cured. Maybe they can learn magic too! You have heard of warlocks who are powerful with spells too. And you can already imagine, the three of you, like a team, eventually going out into the world to fight demons and monsters and—

"Open wide," a sultry voice sounds next to you. Backing away automatically, you find Atsumu standing right behind you.

"W-wait," your voice shakes, stuck in your throat. "What are—"

His fingers reach for your mouth, prying it open. Before you can voice your distaste, a warm, metal ball gets shoved into your mouth, the thin chain quickly tangles into your hair. The faint traces of tea seep out of its small holes down your tongue and throat, while some spill out the corner of your mouth like trails of drool down your jawline.

Osamu smiles and wipes the liquid away with his thumb, relishing in how your widening eyes gape at him in confusion.

"Being together," he answers the question you wanted to ask, "is what you want isn't it?" He takes a spool of kitchen twine and begins to secure the tea strainer in your mouth. The thin cotton threads wrap around your head over and over again, tightening the steel against your tongue.

You shake your head and try to take another step away from the man you're beginning to become wary of, but the strong grip of Atsumu's hands on your shoulder prevents you from squirming at all. His fingers dig into your flesh, and when you turn to look at him you catch a glint in his eyes, glowering down at you.

"No, no, no, behave," he taunts you, "listen to 'Samu. He'll make you feel real good, trust me."

With the gag in your mouth, all you can let out are weak, warbling gargles from the back of your throat. Why are you doing this? You weren't like this before? Loud snorts flare out your nostrils from the fear screaming through your body.

Osamu comes back with a paring knife, examining the edge under the sunlight filtering in through the stained glass. He presses the cool blade along your cheek, dragging with the dull edge just enough so the sharp end doesn't cut your skin. You feel your knees growing weak and if not for Atsumu's hold on you, you would sink into a shuddering heap on the floor.

"You know, I think you might be the best meal yet," Osamu compliments, blade trailing down to your collarbone. The tip of the knife toys with the first button, pressing tension on the x-cross stitching. Snap. The first button pops off, dropping onto the wooden floor and rolling away to an inconspicuous corner. "I'll prep you well."

Snap. Snap. Snap. Snap. The knife flicks again and all the buttons clatter on the floor before running away for refuge.

Atsumu has cleared the table already and you find yourself hoisted up and laid onto the surface like a slab of meat on a cutting board. The cold surface presses against the back of your shoulder and ass. Osamu ties your wrist together with a hemp rope and secures the other end around the table leg. He also secures your ankles to two other anchor points.

You're utterly exposed and ashamed at your body's display, mortified at how your body is reacting when you catch sight of Atsumu, his eyes dilated, looking at your slit that you know is drenched already. The rough texture of the rope presses painfully into your skin from how tight the bindings are. You can only let out gagged whines in complaint, chest rising up and down from the loud breaths.

"Can't do, love," Osamu chides, kissing the knot at your wrist, satisfied with the results. His fingertips trail down to cup your jaw and his thumb runs across the tea strainer. You close your eyes and groan at his touch. Osamu murmurs, "I won't let anything go to waste."

Atsumu is growing impatient at the sight of his twin treating you like the finest specimen ever. You're not the first one. You won't be the last one, but he still can't stand the sight of someone looking just like himself having first tastes while he's missing out himself. He wants to shove Osamu aside, but he knows that Osamu absolutely hates it when he ravages the meal when it's not ready.

Atsumu unzips his pants and lets his hardened, leaking cock spring free. You stare at Atsumu who is fixated on his own pleasure. His hand wraps around his cock and pumps the length up and down.

Osamu turns your head to look at himself instead. "Someone there is impatient, but let's not learn from him, okay? I want to take you slow, make sure you'll be ready. I don't want you stressed, you release too much cortisol and that toughens the meat."

Anything that goes through his hands...well, in short, all become part of his design.

His hand kneads your breast and toys with your nipple, circling and tugging on the tiny, erect bud.

"Relax," he whispers into your ear. "Just like you did last night."

You try to clamp your thighs shut from reflex. Immediately the resistance from the rope ties stop your movements. Osamu squeezes your thighs and pushes them apart once more.

"Right here isn't it, after hearing me fuck 'Tsumu..." Osamu's finger runs down the sides of your labia. "You just couldn't help touching yourself too huh?"

He knows. They know. You feel your cheeks burn at the realization.

"There's nothing embarrassing about it. If anyone should be, it should be us twins, " Osamu's fingers easily slip in, your pussy already dripping with arousal. "Oh woops, I shouldn't need to comfort you. You're clearly not shy."

Osamu's fingers are thick and long, able to reach far deeper than you ever can. Your tongue is still struggling against the gag while your saliva steeps the tea leaves trapped in the ball.

"Oi," Atsumu cuts in with annoyance. "I thought you said to not play with food. What the fuck are you doing, chef?"

Osamu stops his finger in you for a moment before dragging them out. You're trembling at the sudden emptiness and desire to fill the space immediately. The lack of stimulation is irritating and you are desperate.

Osamu walks up to Atsumu, bringing his drenched fingers covered in your slick to his lips for a taste. Before he can do so, Atsumu grabs Osamu's wrist and takes in those digits, sucking on them gingerly.

Osamu smiles and runs the other hand through Atsumu's hair.

"Patience is a virtue, 'Tsumu, I was just getting her fully prepared for you. I'm giving her all to you already, you couldn't even let me have a taste of her?"

Atsumu releases Osamu's fingers with a pop. "I never said I wasn't going to share," he mutters before pulling Osamu in for a kiss, passing the taste of you along their tongues.

Your body jostles as you finally get a visual matching what you heard last night. You feel your pussy leaking with more excitement, the arousal drips all the way down to your asshole. And the more you squirm, it's as though the rope ties become tighter and tighter, rubbing your skin raw. But even that pain is incomparable to the need to quell your fire.

Atsumu pulls away and presses one last kiss on Osamu's nose. "I always love what you serve, thank you 'Samu." Your heart rate rapidly speeds up as Atsumu comes towards you. He's positioned between your legs, both hands on your thighs, marveling at the display of your body. His hands feel hot.

Atsumu grins. "You probably didn't expect me to be the one taking you, huh?" He guides his cock to your entrance, the bulging tip prodding along your puffy lips. "Did you want Osamu to be the one fucking you?"

No? You want to argue, straining your head up slightly, but only tea-laced saliva drips out from the corners of your mouth.

"'Fuck me, 'Samu. Fuck me, please.' Is that what you heard? Is that what you wanted to say too?"

Your screams are muffled whimpers.

Osamu snorts off to the side, watching Atsumu do exactly what he accused Osamu earlier of: playing with his food. Hypocrite.

Atsumu glares at Osamu before turning his attention back to you. "You'll be begging for me, Atsumu, after I'm done with you."

He lines himself at your entrance and inches himself in, groaning at how your cunt is somehow just sucking him in. You're so warm and tight inside, wrapping perfectly around every part of him. He sits in you for a moment, just enjoying being blanketed by your muscles and chuckling how you tighten around him every now and then.

You whine, urging Atsumu to move a little.

"Okay, okay. Geez, and 'Samu says I'm impatient." Atsumu slowly draws his cock out and snaps his hips forward, the base of his balls slapping against your ass. He delights at how you squeeze your eyes shut and continues rocking into you at a comfortable pace.

Osamu enjoys standing off to the side for a while. He always liked watching Atsumu savor and delight the food he prepares. Atsumu always eats with such gusto. It should have always been that way, until the witch ruined everything. The curse, an experiment with the dark arts, should have never happened. Above all else, it should never have been on Atsumu. Osamu can only wonder if the reason they are subjected to this fate is because they are twins. Until a cure is found, Atsumu, his most beloved other, will have to replenish himself in this way.

A sharp pain rips through you and tears well up in your eyes. You feel Atsumu's cock suddenly begin to pulsate and grow in size. At first, you thought it was because you're clamping down on him too hard and will yourself to relax. But the cock, the thing, is certainly unnatural now. And between your tear-stained vision, you can just barely make out... Monster.

You begin to thrash wildly, head tossing side to side, back arched as much as you can in a futile escape attempt. Atsumu's claws rest on your hips while he pounds into you furiously. His groans, now deep growls, send vibrations that you can feel within your throbbing clit. You fear that you'll actually be ripped in half by the way Atsumu is thrusting into you. The engorged cockhead hits your cervix each time and his ball sack, even heavier, bowls and knocks against you.

Osamu unfolds his arms and comes over.

"It'll only hurt if you don't relax," he tells you, reaching out to press on your clit. "Just let him have his way."

"Go fuck her somewhere else," Atsumu snarls. His voice is warped and bellowing. Your mind is getting foggy as Osamu's fingers on your clit don't stop teasing the bud while having a petty talk with Atsumu. And Atsumu, ticked off by Osamu, picks up his speed.

"There we go, now that's beautiful," Osamu comments, taking his hand away and watching you unfurl in your pleasure. Your abused cunt is puffy when Atsumu pulls out, and you feel the thick liquid start to flow out when you take breaths.

"No, don't do that," Osamu chides, taking three fingers to gather the cum spilling out and stuffing it back in. "Better keep it all in. 'Tsumu isn't done with you yet."

Not yet? You can't even voice your thoughts except weakly shaking your head and moaning into the steel gag. In the moment, your stomach rumbles loudly.

"'Samu, she's hungry," Atsumu points out, rubbing your tummy. "You feed her and I'll stuff her."

Osamu ruffles Atsumu's long hair and gives his new, erected horns a teasing squeeze. Atsumu yelps at the touch. "'Samu!"

"Okay, okay," Osamu relents and stands next to your head. You see him take the paring knife again and slide the icy blade between the cotton ties and your hot cheek. A quick slice and you feel the pressure of the gag release. Osamu removes the tea strainer from your mouth and tosses it into the sink.

"Must have been so over-brewed, I apologize for that," he says. You know he doesn't mean it at all.

"Why?" you croak out. Your jaw and cheeks are sore from being held in position for so long. There's so many things you believe you can ask why about. Why they are prepping you like a meal, fucking you like a toy...Why Atsumu is the way he is. Why Osamu is not who you think he is either. Why you.

Despite Atsumu's grotesque figure, you're sure that you fear this twin more. Osamu's thoughts are so well-hidden behind his eyes; he never gives away what he's thinking or planning. You can only accept his decisions from the receiving end.

"Because of Atsumu," Osamu answers. Everything is for 'Tsumu. "I'll feed you."

Osamu cradles your head with both hands, his fingers tangled in your hair. He prods his cock against your lips. Feeling your resistance, he grips your hair tightly, painfully pulling on your scalp, and presses the tip of his cock to force your lips open. You nearly gag at the length entering your throat and your hands ball into tight fists. Your nose is buried in the base of his cock, pressing into his balls. Each breath you take is heavy with his musky, hot scent.

It's easy to focus on Osamu's cock fucking into your throat, leaving an unamused, monstrous twin off to the side preparing to turn your attention back to him by force.

Atsumu rubs himself against you, preparing to enter you again. You're sure that he has become even bigger. When the tip pushes through, your body attempts to fight the intrusion in self-preservation. The claws at your hips dig in and Atsumu all but pulls you onto his length like a sock. You scream around Osamu's cock, throat clenching around his thick length, and nearly black out from the stretch.

You never had anything this big in you before. Atsumu lifts you up slightly, his grasp becoming large enough to encircle around your whole waist. Your ankles are still tethered and tug on you, much to Atsumu's annoyance. He easily slices through the bondages with a sharp claw. Now free of restraints, Atsumu can cradle you more easily, finally pushing the last section into you.

Crack!

You can’t cry while you're stuffed with Osamu’s cock, but tears stream endlessly from your eyes. You’re sure your pelvic floor is broken, completely forced apart in a futile attempt to accommodate Atsumu stuffing you beyond your physical capacity. Your hips give out as your two legs, bone out from their sockets, dangle grotesquely.

“Just focus on me,” Osamu wipes your tears away and continues to pump into you. But you cannot focus on the human object in your mouth when your whole lower half and inwards are broken, stretched or squashed.

"Hey look ‘Samu! It's bulging," Atsumu marvels at the imprint of his tip pushing your flesh out from the inside. “Look, my cock is saying ‘hello’.”

Atsumu excitement translates into messy thrusts, treating your body like a game. “Maybe I can even touch your dick through her!”

Your whole body is numb, the brain shuts its pain signals off completely, and hormones pour through your bloodstream in overdrive. The broken climax spasms through your body like the last bits of a faltering system.

“Better hurry...she’s...she’s fading soon,” Osamu warns between his grunts. He clasps your head and spurts his seed into you. You mindlessly swallow every drop of him, letting the contents slowly flow down your throat. You can’t process anything nor recognize any of the murky images. Who are you? Where are you?

Your memory fades in and out as your eyesight drifts between black and white. You can’t do anything about how the monster is now on all fours over your body, unrecognizable as Atsumu. You don’t feel any fear towards this grotesque figure. You don’t register how his tongue licks your neck.

Your mouth is now empty but you can’t formulate syllables.

“I’m sorry,” you hear Osamu whisper before sharp fangs pierce into your jugular, digging in deeper and tearing a chunk out. Red sprays across your body in fast spurts, drenching Atsumu and covering Osamu. The teeth at your throat gnaw at the flesh, starved, tearing through the skin, fat, and tissues like a child crunching fruit.

You can feel the droplets falling onto your face like fresh rain after a storm. You vaguely remember your teacher and her warning of strangers. She always reprimanded you and you wanted to make her proud. There will no longer be any chance of that now. You weren’t a good student, and only an utter failure.

Osamu waits for Atsumu to finish you off. Atsumu always gets messy at this point. Osamu tried to help Atsumu section his prey off by cutting and organizing the limbs and even attempted to debone the meal beforehand, but Atsumu has his preferences, and Osamu respects them. So, Osamu delegates cleaning duties to himself instead.

You’re already beyond recognition when Osamu comes back with barrels of oil. All that is left is a kitchen stained with blood and a pile of bone with chewed connective tissue left. Atsumu sometimes eats the bones too, but not always.

“‘Tsumu, are you full now?” Osamu asks, reaching out to cradle his twin. Atsumu has now transformed back to the way he is supposed to be. Osamu threads his hand through Atsumu’s blonde hair and inhales his twin’s scent.

Atsumu doesn’t respond and tugs at Osamu’s collar, trailing down his arm to bring Osamu’s hand to his own cock.

Osamu grins and kisses the top of Atsumu’s head. “Do you want to fuck me ‘Tsumu? I know you like to, after your meals.”

Atsumu whines and nips at Osamu’s jaw, pushing the twin down on the blood-stained floor.

“Okay, okay.” Osamu unzips and pulls down his pants before crawling onto all fours.

Atsumu’s hand cups Osamu’s ass and pries the cheeks open before curiously fingering at the specimen plugging Osamu’s hole. Atsumu holds onto the base and turns the object, before laughing.

“‘Samu, what is this you have in your ass,” Atsumu teases. “I like this presentation.”

This time, Osamu is the one embarrassed. “Last meal, it hurt like hell. So...I wanted to prepare a little.”

“With an egg holder?” Atsumu cackles again, fiddling with the ceramic object. “Should’ve just told me ‘Samu, I could never bear to hurt you.”

Atsumu holds onto the base and slowly pulls the object out before tossing it aside. He smiles and teases Osamu’s enlarged hole that’s opening and closing around nothing. Gathering up some saliva, he spits onto Osamu’s asshole before lining his cock at the rim and slowly pushing in.

Along with the curse comes a near insatiable lust. Atsumu knows that if he doesn’t fulfill his need to fuck or be fucked, he will snap. He doesn’t really care who he kills during a frenzy of that sort, but it’s too risky to get Osamu caught up in the collateral.

The witch that wanted to create the perfect weapon, failed. She failed because she underestimated the twins’ bonds for each other. She failed because the twins discovered that witches excrete a very special hormone in their body after climax, and it is exactly that substance that is slowly curing Atsumu. With every witch eaten and absorbed, Atsumu is healing and gaining magical powers. He is even capable of passing those essences to Osamu. One day, everything will be the way it's supposed to be.

Osamu plays with a few strands of Atsumu’s hair. Atsumu’s softened cock still buried inside of him. Atsumu has his jaw resting on Osamu’s shoulder.

“You make me feel so good,” Atsumu sighs, enjoying the quiet moments after his high.

“And what about her?” Osamu asks, gesturing to the table where your remains are still at.

“She made me feel good too. The best one yet, but don’t be jealous.”

“Come on, let’s clean up and get out of here.”

After washing their bodies and changing into clean clothes, Atsumu and Osamu are ready to say goodbye to the cottage they have overstayed their welcomes at.

"Let's go 'Samu, we're already behind." Atsumu finishes dumping the last bucket of oil along the edges of the room.

The clamor of boots stride across the creaking wood. As though with the passing of its owner, the cottage itself has lost the will to live.

"Coming," Osamu calls back, walking past the makeshift funeral pyre for you. He notices a flash on the ground and bends down to pick up a button.

"'Samu! Get the fuck out or I'll burn ya down too!"

"Yea, yea."

Osamu drops the button into his shirt pocket and joins his twin outside. Atsumu strikes a matchstick and tosses the small flame into the cottage. Fire meets oil and spreads in an instance, engulfing the cottage in an angry blend of orange and red, devouring all contents and remains within. The smell of scorched wood reaches the twins who are looking at the sight from a distance.

"She was good," Atsumu comments, looking at his twin unsure about what Osamu's grey eyes are thinking about. Atsumu realizes that he didn't specify what good exactly means. But it doesn't seem like Osamu is paying much attention. Is Osamu thinking about you? Is he unhappy? Does he regret what happened to you? Although what's done is done already, if time can go back, would Osamu choose? You or Atsumu?

Osamu slips his hand into Atsumu's, erasing the unspoken worries away. He gently leads Atsumu onto the trail, leaving the burning cottage behind.

"Stop thinking such nonsense," Osamu mutters, squeezing Atsumu's hand. No matter what happens, Atsumu will always come first. His needs, his desires. That's what it means for Osamu to love Atsumu. Even though the rest of the world may not understand the relationship the twins share, calling it depraved and disgusting, it's still selfless on their part. What sin is there to honestly love? What sin is there to try and save his loved ones?

While Osamu admits to himself that he does feel a deep attraction to you and knows that Atsumu feels the same pull as well, there's nothing that can be done about Atsumu's condition. But it's not as though you are completely gone. Your essences and core are within both twins, being absorbed as one with their bodies and soul. You'll forever be with them in that way, even if you no longer have any sentient memory of it.

Osamu fiddles the button in his pocket; there's still a physical reminder of you in that tiny form.

It must be about a twenty-minute trek from the burning site. Although the flames are already far from eyesight, the scorching smell and embers still drift over. The twins pick up their pace, eager to exit the forest before nightfall and make it to the next destination. On the way, they pass by the tree trunk with a wanted poster.

"They never get my best angles!" Atsumu complains, ripping a wanted poster that is nailed to the tree trunk.

"It's not like you have a good angle, ‘Tsumu."

"Shut it, we look the same ‘Samu. You're just calling yourself ugly too!"

Osamu shrugs and continues his trek down the main trail. Atsumu huffs, tearing the parchment into indistinguishable pieces before throwing the shreds up into the air like confetti.

"Wait up!"

Osamu stops in his tracks. "Hurry up, loser. We still have a long way to go."

Atsumu takes a few wide strides and swings his arm around his twin's shoulder. Behind them, a very light drizzle falls from the sky.

536 notes · View notes

wolfpants · 2 years ago

Text

tag game for every day of the week

I've been tagged in a few of these now and they all have slightly different but also some of the same questions! So I'm doing this one and I hope I've covered everything you want to know about lil old me. Thank you @academicdisasterfic @lqtraintracks @shealynn88 🖤

relationship status: platonically partnered but romantically unattached? I guess that's how I'd describe it? Also, ENM

favourite food: any dish that involves udon noodles, fried chicken and the hottest sauce I can handle, ice cream, eggs, brunost, stinky blue cheese, crusty bread, pears, rhubarb crumble and custard

favourite colour: sage green

song stuck in your head: here to stay by korn because I prank texted my friend saying it was the quintessential nu metal song and I think he might have blocked me

last thing you googled: "films about isolation", you know, hot boi shit

time: 19:38

dream trip: joshua tree/salvation mountain, chile, austin, iceland, finland, also middle earth

last book you read/enjoyed: the last book that blew me away, truly, was swimming in the dark. incredible read

last book you hated reading: normal people. I'm sorry!!

favourite thing to cook/bake: lentil and mushroom spag bol, banana bread, garlic and chilli noodles

favourite craft: I used to be a keen knitter but I haven't picked up my needles in over a year! I'd say writing, though, for sure.

most niche dislikes: tea that isn't milky enough, tea that isn't Yorkshire Tea, not being able to give myself at least 30 minutes of time to be early to something, airports, falling asleep anywhere other than a bed, a heavy duvet, grey/silver interiors, wearing baggy sleeves

opinion on circuses: not a fan of anything that involves forced participation

do you have a sense of direction and if not what's the worst way you've gotten lost? no sense of direction at all. I get lost everywhere I go

last song you listened to: resurrections by lena raine

last show you watched: stranger things

currently watching: WELL from tomorrow I will be watching house of the dragon

currently reading: heartstopper

current obsessions: putting on my sherlock hat and trying to figure out where past wolf put their nintendo switch charger to keep it safe, making @academicdisasterfic fall in love with lotr, trying to find the perfect corduroy shirt, my upcoming trip to portland, my upcoming trip to the mountains in norway for some r&r, writing always writing, my newly bleached hair, my cattle skull earrings, autumn's approach

anyone who sees this, please consider yourself loved and tagged

#tag game #personal

14 notes · View notes

starshiningsirius · 4 years ago

Text

Like old times (Yandere Azul x reader)

@bryzie27 - i like what you did with overblot leona. could you do something similar with overblot azul?

Not sure what you mean like the chase scene? The dynamics of Octanivelle's structure still aren't quite clear to me if they can go out in the water but I'll try!

I FORGOT THE GIF IS FROM @flowerofthemoonworld !

Let's give the octopus some love!

"Hey, your Azul right?"

He lifted his head to look at who had spoken to him. It was a mermaid with a strange speckled tail that added to her beauty. She seemed to be more of the reserved type. Her hair had two streaks of the same color on either side of her face and the rest was all one color. Her eyes shimmered radiantly.

He could feel a rush of heat claim his entire face.

"Here." She handed him his books.

"W -why are you doing this?" The young octopus sniffled.

He wasn't expecting this, not with the way everyone else treated him. It didn't make any sense why you'd treat him kindly. A freakish eight legged merman who couldn't swim correctly.

"It's the right thing to do, Azul. I couldn't just swim away with you like this. It'd be immoral."

From that first encounter on forward they became friends. She helped him walk and swim a bit better considering he found it embarrassing. She didn't even have tentacles yet she instructed him so well.. Maybe he inked once or twice, a few times around her on accident, he swears! It didn't matter she was fine with it. She didn't mind one bit who he was.

Even when they went to the Atlantica Museum she stayed by his side and explored it with him. He was a bit slow considering his physique was on the chubby side so he wasn't fast. It still didn't matter, for some odd reason she stayed with him. In the picture commemorating the trip he held her hand since he was a bit self conscious about his picture being taken.

Y/n couldn't help but find it adorable. Everything about Azul wasn't at all strange to her it only made her more curious to get to know him. He would always apologize for any small thing he did wrong. She would always say, "It's fine." as if he did nothing. Her smile always seemed to brighten Azul's darkest days.

She'd visit him in his family restaurant in which his mother and father always welcomed his first friend. They were overjoyed. She saw him gorging himself on the plate of food in front of him compared to her smaller portion. She couldn't help but to stare, it made her understand why he was on the chubby side. Then he looked at her sauce around his mouth and she couldn't help but smile at him with laughter filling the area. He was embarrassed blushing a shade of red and he felt a bit ashamed.

"Azulie, you're absolutely adorable!" She said through her laughter.

It was one of his most fondest memories he ever had with her, but all good things had to come to an end.

Eventually she had to depart from the northern seas to the far southern ones. She had to leave Azul behind. She had given him a hug it was full of so much warmth of which he had never felt before and it made his heart race twice as fast. Both parents of the children found it endearing their children had found a friend.

. . .

And that was that. Time passed and he eventually became Azul Ashengrotto the dorm leader of Octanivelle who could grant any wish just as the sea witch. He could never ever forget the one person he was so fond of though. It never left him every time he wrote down a contract he could remember a time where he truly did care for someone.

The new year at Night Raven was his second year while a new group of first years came entering the school. He had ordered Jade to get information on each of them and when he went through the long list of students that had been sorted into Octanivelle while in his office. He immediately crossed one oh so familiar.

Y/n L/n.

He couldn't believe his eyes. He put the sheet of paper down and opened one of his drawers in the desk that showed him and her back then. He never altered this photo as he did countless others. She accepted him for who he was and that was well enough a reason for him to admire her.

He automatically called upon Jade as Floyd would have probably scared the poor girl. He told him to fetch her immediately.

When he finally did see her for the first time in years he was astounded at how you changed so little but so much at the same time. You had grown taller and your eyes still sparkled just as they always did. You had the same two streaks on either side of your hair which had grown a few inches he might add.

Jade had left to do other tasks he was assigned but Azul couldn't care less seeing as he had his childhood friend and sweetheart in front of him.

"Azulie, that really is you huh?" Your voice had matured but was more timid just like the very first time they met. Of course it was so long ago that they're more like strangers now. That nickname though, it's been a long time since he's heard it.

"Yes, I've changed quite a bit." He was a little nervous though he'd never admit it his voice slightly betrayed him and his face had a little red tint. He tried pushing up his glasses to shield it from her eyes but it was a futile attempt. He heard her chuckle that made his heart race like never before.

"You haven't changed fully as your still the most adorable by far." She said.

That made his face blossom as red as a rose in the rose maze of Heartsbyul. Heat was exerting itself from his still body that he sat in the chair from.

From that moment on he would keep a watchful eye on her. He would always try his best when she was around and get any info on anything going on pertaining to her.

She had met Floyd and Jade before who Azul wasn't too fond of at first, but she reccomended he became friends with them back then since it wasn't everyday someone didn't come up to tease him and noticed his accomplishments. Of course it was only because of Azul that they met again at Night Raven. The first time she met Jade was when he first brought her to see Azul in his office. He looked familiar to her and she mentioned it to him, and they both shared their fondest memories on the way. She met Floyd a little later on in the Mostro Lounge as he had taken her order and he noticed she had come in a lot just to see Azul. Jade had to explain the situation that she wasn't required to pay for any food she ate there because of an order Azul had given out.

Azul would spend some time out of the day to just hang out with you if he wasn't always busy with the lounge. It was always a joy to be with you, it reminded him of when you were both younger. He thought back to those days every night and day that you had still never left his mind. The thought of you leaving again made him lose his sense of reason and fall deeper in his sweet obsession.

He had started to act different you noticed. He had become a bit more invasive of your personal space in which you remember that only happened when he was nervous at least you thought he grew out of it.

Jade and Floyd began to direct you to the Lounge like your life was there and no where else. It'd only be a matter of time before Azul was informed by Jade of his sweetheart's newest infatuation.

Vil happened to catch your attention. It led Azul to be green with envy. He knew the dorm leader of Pomeifore had complimented her one day and it was enough to send her falling head over heels. He had so many followers it made no sense why he had to take something else Azul had wanted for the longest time. With Vil's beauty he only began to question his own.

He had to come up with a solution just as he had done for those bullies. He just couldn't lose Y/n again. Not if he had any say in it.

After hours of pondering in his office sinking his nails into his desk the answer happened to be right behind him. The vault that was situated behind his desk held the many contracts he had collected.

Maybe if he could impress her she wouldn't see him as that stupid, clumsy octopus he once was. All these different magic spells that he obtained from those fools from the exams on land in Night Raven and those idiots who swam under the sea.

That's when his plan fell apart. Y/n avoided him all of a sudden. Mainly having spent time with those troublesome first years he sent to the museum to collect one of the last remnants of his past.

He didn't have time to keep thinking about Y/n at the moment which irritated him quite a bit. One thing led to another and now he was out here trying to negotiate with the arrogant and prideful dorm head of Savanclaw. As soon as he destroyed them all hope was lost.

He was taunting him, but his next few words really took him over the top in terms of a sadistic being.

"You know, one of your little sea friends really wanted to believe you were nice. We just had to show her the real Azul Ashengrotto." Leona had smirked turning his head to the side, beyond the corner of the tunnel his darling angelfish had appeared. Disbelief in her eyes, she couldn't even meet his eyes.

That's when everyone else had arrived, but the deed was already done. He had lost everything and his angelfish had seen him as a weak being, the same stupid clumsy octopus he hated being.

They took her from his side. He had her in his grasp and they stole her. He had lost it.

His newborn and unimaginable power were apparent now. He just had to get it all back. Not even Floyd or Jade wanted to help him either.

He reminded himself of you holding your pen ready to fire another offensive attack. His anger swelled inside him where he could tap into more power.

"GIVE HER BACK TO ME! GIVE ME BACK WHAT YOU TOOK! "

A large swarm of harsh black wind had overwhelmed the group. She still managed to stand but when the dust cleared she saw all of them had collapsed unconscious. Even the prefect who was thrown back the farthest had their head hit the tunnel, it didn't look like she was breathing from here though.

She took a look back at Azul and suddenly she felt her feet carrying her away from the scene, having Azul call out to her from behind.

* * *

It's been a while since she had to swim that fast. Her tail fin was starting to hurt from the constant movement. She wanted to take a break, a never ending nightmare she pleaded in her head to be over.

That was until she heard him calling for her.

"Oh Angelfish! You really have nothing to fear! Come out I promise I won't hurt you!" He said in a sing songy voice.

She was hiding behind a large boulder on the sea floor near a small coral reef.

"Am I not enough anymore?! I'LL DO ANYTHING TO PROVE IT! I'M NOT THE SAME AS BEFORE, YOU DON'T HAVE TO LOOK AFTER ME! " The tone of voice he had scared her even more so now that she was alone.

"I'm not, ... I'm not that stupid clumsy little octopus anymore." He sounded as if he were about to cry, it pulled at her heartstrings a bit and she thought she could convince him to calm down in this state.

"Azulie I never-"

"There you are! " He said with glee and delight in his tone, that never would have made you think he was sad in the first place.

He successfully guilt tripped her into coming out of hiding. Using his tentacles he pulled her by the tail toward him careful to avoid giving her any injuries. He grasped her in his arms feeling himself relax a bit, at the fact he had her in his grasp once again. She felt warm just as she did all those years ago for him.

He clasped her hands together with his. A deranged smile on his face as he stared into the soul of his adorable little angelfish who shivered under such an intense gaze radiating his madness.

"We'll be together again! Just like old times! Except this time I'm all powerful and no one will be able to steal what's mine!"

Masterlist

#twisted wonderland #yandere azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech #floyd leech

452 notes · View notes

holycafe · 4 years ago

Text

The last two months had flown by.

Dean had never felt like this before. He’d never been this happy. As a hunter, he’d never truly allowed himself to believe that he could get something in his life that was more than just pain and bloodshed. But looking at Cas now, his husband, who was currently burning their two-monthiversary dinner, he was happy.

“Here,” Dean said, stepping in and rescuing the chicken from the grill before it became charcoal. Cas sighed in relief, even though he had been adamant in finishing this meal by himself, and Dean pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before wiping away the bead of sweat that clung to his hairline. Cas closed his eyes and rested his head against Dean’s hand, drained after spending the last couple of hours racing around the kitchen. Dean had, obviously, offered his help sooner – seeing as how Cas could barely cook anything to save his own life – but he had been forcibly removed from the kitchen by his husband, who was insistent on doing this alone. But now, when Dean asked: “How can I help?” Cas was desperate enough that he didn’t turn him away.

They found an easy rhythm working together in the kitchen, and maybe it would be a little strange how easily they fell into it if it wasn’t for all the times that they’d worked side-by-side on a hunt together over the past twelve years? Because, actually, they hadn’t really done this yet. This cooking thing that is. Cas never needed to eat before he went to the Empty and lost his angel mojo, so he never needed to cook. And after coming back, people had always been around. There wasn’t ever just Dean and Cas in the kitchen. Not before the wedding, at least. And after the wedding, Jack sent them straight off to sunny Hawaii. Then Costa Rica, Thailand, Venice, New Zealand… Every time they got bored of the scenery and fancied a change, they just called Jack up and got zapped off somewhere new.

They’d come back for Sam and Eileen’s wedding, of course. Arrived back the day before and stayed to see them off to their own honeymoon. Then spent a couple of days milling around the bunker. But it was different now. They’d been gone for more than a month at that point, and it had gone from overcrowded to silent and empty and just as unbearable. So, they’d left again.

But it became pretty clear over the next few weeks that it wasn’t more days of sea, sun, and sand that they needed. They just needed – Dean needed – a home. And the bunker wasn’t enough anymore. He didn’t want an underground base of operations filled with spell books, cursed objects, and an endless tirade of hunters parading through the doors. Dean wanted windows and light. He wanted a place by the lake so that he could go fishing, with a big garden out back for Cas to grow whatever he wanted. He wanted a wine cellar and a porch that he could sit on with Cas in the morning and watch the sun come up. Dean wanted a home, he wanted a life, he wanted to hang up his hunting gear once and for all, and Cas was right behind him.

But they couldn’t exactly go looking for their dream house while on their honeymoon in Bali. So, once they got fed up with overcrowded beaches, strangers, and fake-happy hotel staff, the two of them returned to the empty bunker again, just in time for their two-month anniversary.

And Dean hadn’t ever really thought he was a ‘monthiversary’ kind of guy… but life as a hunter had taught him to celebrate the little things in life. And, anyway, this didn’t feel like a ‘little’ thing. This felt huge. They’d been married for two months! Two months where Dean could hold Cas’ hand without caring who saw. Two months where he could press a kiss on his cheek, his jaw, his neck, shoulder, lips. Two months with a ring on his finger – which had been a strange feeling at first but now felt as comfortable to him as his own skin.

Two months.

“I love you,” Dean said, and Cas looked up from where he was stirring the sauce, his blue eyes so beautiful. He smiled.

“I love you, too.”

They could say that now as though it was the simplest thing in the world. As though they hadn’t been hiding those feelings away like the biggest secret in the world up until only a few months ago. They loved each other, and they could say it because, of course, they did! They always had, and they always would. ‘til death do us part and all that.

Except, they both knew that death wouldn’t be the end of their story. Either they’d come back to life. Again. Or they’d find each other in heaven. That was the perk of having an ex-angel as a husband and God as their son. Dean had got a peek behind the proverbial curtain; he didn’t have to guess about what was to come. He knew that when he said Cas was stuck with him forever, he wasn’t exaggerating.

“Alright, what are we working with?” Dean asked as he got his mind back on track, taking the wooden spoon from Cas and preparing himself as he moved to taste the sauce that his husband had been working on.

It wasn’t that Dean didn’t trust Cas; he just didn’t trust Cas’ ability to cook them a meal without giving them food poisoning. After all, the last time he’d attempted to cook them anything, he’d ended up dumping sugar into the frying pan because the recipe had said to ‘caramelise’ the onions. Obviously, that had been a disaster.

This time, however, the sauce actually tasted pretty good. Dean nodded his approval. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised; Cas always was a quick learner. He said as much and saw the way that his husband beamed with pride, his grin contagious.

They finished up the meal and set the table in the library together pretty quickly.

“I’ll put some music on,” Cas said, but Dean was soon up on his feet and shaking his head no.

“Nuh-uh. We’re not listening to Beyonce on our anniversary. We listen to real music or nothing at all,” he said. Cas knew that he was only teasing. Of course, he did; he knew Dean better than anyone. Better than even Sam did. Hell, Cas knew him better than Dean knew himself. He didn’t even hate Beyonce all that much – not that he would ever tell anyone other than Cas that – but still, Dean stayed true to his word and played his favourite Led Zeppelin playlist on shuffle through Sam’s speaker, and then they started to dig into their meal.

They were almost done eating before one of the songs that Dean had added onto the mixtape that he’d made for Cas a few years ago started to play, and Cas started to hum along, tapping his fingers lightly against his glass to the beat of ‘Thank You’.

And when Plant started singing, Cas joined in, effortlessly whispering the lyrics under his breath. “If the sun refused to shine, I would still be loving you. When mountains crumble to the sea, there will still be you and me.”

And as Cas continued to sing along, Dean’s heart sang with him as he stared in open amazement.

“You’ve listened to the tape,” Dean said, the words almost sounding like an accusation to his own ears. And it was stupid how his stomach was doing little flips right now because they were married, goddammit! But, yeah, sometimes Cas still gave him butterflies.

Right now was definitely one of those times.

“It was a gift,” Cas reminded him. And Dean nodded, but it was so much more than that: it was the first time that Dean had put conscious effort into telling Cas how he felt. He’d given him a mixtape! A mixtape made mostly of love songs from his favourite band. “I listened to it whenever I missed you when I was away,” Cas continued, and Dean’s heart gave another little throb in his chest. “I missed you a lot.”

Christ.

“I missed you a lot too,” Dean admitted. Of course, he’d missed him. He’d missed him every damn second of every day that they weren’t together.

If Dean was better at vocalising how he felt, then he would have told Cas that. He thought that Cas still understood, though, if the was he was smiling, his blue eyes glistening, was anything to go by. He was beautiful.

Cas’ fingers were still drumming against his glass in tempo to the song as though he wasn’t even conscious of it. Dean shook his head, forgetting his dinner for a moment as he stood up and offered Cas his hand. Cas blinked at him in confused for a moment, unsure, and so Dean rolled his eyes and reached down to tug him up to his feet and into an embrace before leading them in a dance around the library.

Dean could feel Cas’ body pressed nice and warm against his own, as comfortable as the ring on his finger. He could feel the smile on Cas’ cheeks pressed against Dean’s, though he didn’t need to turn his head to see the smile for himself. He had all of Cas’ smiles memorised.

“Sing to me, Cas,” Dean teased as they danced to the song. Though, it wasn’t actually a taunt. Not really. The way he said it might have sounded like he was goading and making a joke of the situation, but in reality, the thought of Cas singing Led Zeppelin to him only served to make Dean’s insides twist up into knots. And Cas knew that because Cas knew him. And so, when the next verse began, he sang.

“And so today, my world it smiles,” he sang. His voice was deep and rough, but still beautiful, and Dean’s heart really did leap at the sound. “Your hand in mine, we walk the miles. Thanks to you, it will be done.”

“For you to meeeee are the ooooonly oneeeee!” Dean sang the next line, making Cas laugh, his breath ghosting against Dean’s neck, causing the small hairs there to stand up. Dean smiled and finally turned to face him, pressing a kiss to his husband’s lips while the song continued on around them.

Christ, he loved his man so much, more and more every day. They’d been married now for two months. Two months and counting, and Dean was so happy to spend the rest of their lives together.

#okay i tried but i kept getting writers block while writing this so sorry if it sucks #i was going to go with Cas puts on the mixtape for their anniversary dinner but this idea flowed better in writing #destiel #deancas #deancas wedding #destiel anniversary #supernatural #dean winchester #castiel winchester #jensen ackles #misha collins #spn #flowersforcastag #cafe writes

103 notes · View notes

fascination-street-writing · 4 years ago

Text

The Sea Isn’t Green, and I Love This Dream | Risotto Nero x Reader

Subtitled “Keep Smoking - I Still Love You”

If you were to look at him with those eyes of yours and smile in earnest, all for him, he would surely fall in love with you all over again. As if he ever stopped loving you in the first place.

- 2020 Holiday Gift - A Continuation of Sober to Death -

Content Warnings: Incidental Stalking, Unhealthy Smoking Habits, Past Relationships, Unhealthy Relationship Dynamics, Angst, Regret, & Referenced Child Abuse

It is the summer of 1998. Risotto has not left his apartment in days, for he has found no reason to; there have been no new contracts, no paperwork in need of filing, and no immediate issues with the newest recruit. But today, he will venture out under the brazen sun and purchase groceries for the upcoming week. If not for the matter of his own sustenance, it will at least keep Prosciutto off his back. As if it is any of the blonde man’s business whether his Capo is eating adequately or not.

As he coasts through the aisles, searching for pre-packaged dried pasta, jarred sauce, and some kind of fresh vegetable – because Prosciutto said so –, he feels the condescending, fearful stares of patrons without needing to acknowledge them. If it is not for his stature, then certainly the peculiar coloring of his eyes. However, the ogling no longer bothers him, simply because he does not let it; after all, he is no longer the boy who once lived in Palermo.

There is a sale on pre-sliced bread. Yet, even after the discount, the name-brand loaf is still more expensive than the off-brand. He settles for the latter. It all tastes the same to him, anyways. And if he can save a thousand lire, then it is all the better. Prosciutto, he supposes, would disagree and insist that the off-brand bread is cheaper for a reason. Risotto is reminded of exactly why he does not live with the man anymore. But he still makes a conscious effort to buy fresh produce.

Basket filled, Risotto heads towards the check-out line. He knows that he has neglected to grab a bag of oranges, as denoted by the crumpled list in his hand, and he does not intend to return for them. The carton of berries and fresh figs he found along the way will be enough. Though, he does loathe forgetfulness.

The line, as he discovers and much to his dismay, is backed up. The brevity of the situation is simply that the grocery store has been understaffed as of late. Something about gang-violence and an attempted robbery – nothing that concerns him or his men. A person in his line of work fears little. Or at least, that is the theory. His thoughts linger to the new recruit, whom Prosciutto has taken under his guidance. He has always had more patience than Risotto regarding such matters.

The young Capo has lost track of exactly how long he has stood in line. Denoted by the telling grumbles of an older man behind him and the pleading of his wife to calm down, Risotto knows that it has been a while, and unreasonably so. Glancing down at his basket, a questionable consideration comes to his impatient mind: it would not be difficult to slip away, shroud himself with his Stand, and leave the grocery store with his would-be stolen goods.

It is certainly nothing to lose sleep over. In the end, however, he decides against it. Perhaps to salvage his honor and dignity, otherwise challenged by the temptation of petty thievery. Or perhaps because the line has finally moved, and it is too late to back out now. There are only two customers ahead of him now. In moments such as this, he likes to pretend that he is normal – that he might be shopping for a family that waits for him in a home somewhere in the suburbs of Napoli.

But these times have passed, and although only a man of twenty-five, he is complacent with the life as a ceaseless bachelor. A hitman does not make for a good husband, nor a father. In retrospect, Risotto hardly believes that he would want to become either. At least, not anymore.

“Merda,” the woman at the front of the line groans. She sets down the wad of cash in her hand. “I’m ₤15,000 short. Can you just put the oil back? And the sardines.”

The grocery clerk is decent at masking his annoyance with a tight smile and curt nod. It is a commendable skill, though there is room for improvement, Risotto thinks. “God, I’m so sorry. I just moved here for a new job, and my money still hasn’t transferred over to my new bank account. I should’ve taken more cash out to begin with.”

The next woman reaches into her purse and produces a neatly folded stack of lira. She taps the shoulder of the first woman, who turns. In this moment, Risotto believes he has been pummeled through the stomach. There is no other explanation to the tightening of his chest, and the heavy beating of his heart.

There you stand, as beautiful as ever, despite your apparent vexation at your own foolishness. The money quickly passes from the kind woman’s palm to that of the cashier. “Grazie, signora,” you tell her.

At first, Risotto feels nothing, as if he cannot process that which he sees before him. And then, regret – pure and unadulterated. He does not hear what the woman says to you, because the thrum of his mind has made him deaf to everything except for the ringing of his ears. You have not noticed him, unlike every other customer in the establishment, and he would like to keep it that way. You accept the bag of groceries from the cashier, but Risotto does not stick around to see it. He has already pushed past the perturbed husband and wife behind him, with every intention of finding a new line to stand in. He does not care how tedious it will be to make it out of the store. He does not care if the tub of gelato in his basket melts, or if the berries turn to mush.

Risotto will do anything to spare the fleeting glance of the only woman whom he ever loved. And if that means waiting another twenty minutes, then by god, he will wait.

He wonders, as he sits in his office with a blazing cigarette dangling from his lips, if you still smoke. In truth, he has always known that you only ever did it to impress him. He wishes you would not have indulged in this solidary habit – in fact, he wishes you had not done a lot of things, like becoming his closest friend and adolescent savior. His first kiss, or his first lament in the pitfall of countless others.

Clouds cling to the ceiling, seeping into the walls and furniture. If his landlord were not so intimidated by Risotto, then surely the parsimonious man might evict him for ruining the apartment with the stench of cigarettes and the occasional blood stain on the carpet. He supposes that he ought to at least open the window. Just beyond his reach atop the desk is his computer. If he wants to, he can find out every miniscule detail of your adult life and more that has collected over the past seven years, since the moment he left you a young, broken woman who did not mourn him. Every bank transaction, gas receipt, and occasional splurge for an object attributed to various degrees of pleasure – where you are working, where you live, and why you have come back to haunt him.

It is none of his concern, and he does not have the right to pry; not after the hurt he has done unto you, back when you were still two lovers who were, well, in love. He hopes you have found some semblance of happiness, and he will not impede on whatever that may be. But, like an incurable ailment, confliction strikes him. Indeed, he told himself that it is not his guile to cause you further grief. And yet, Risotto yearns for you all over again.

All this time spent living in a world wherein he does not exist to you, how often did thoughts of him cross your mind? Did you think of his ghastly red eyes whenever you have welcomed a new paramour into your bed, and compare the sizes of their hands to his? Did you think of him each time you drove that hand-me-down junker of your father’s, avoiding the backseat like the plague until the engine finally died and you had no choice but to purchase a new car? How long did it take you to scrub out the stains from the upholstery and your skin?

As it were, keeping the distance between you two is effortless. But unearthing unhealed wounds, all in some venture of self-retribution to heal them right, is just as inviting. There is simply too much that might go wrong again – the risks, far too great. Dissociation has served him well enough thus far. Surely, he can keep it up, this manneristic habit of his. It is funny, he finds; that as teenagers, you had once promised that you would always be there for him. It was an undeserving luxury, and one that he often took for granted. Now, though he recognizes in his heart that he still needs you, he wants you gone. For his sake or yours, he knows not.

But it would be nice to be held by you, one last time.

Breaking self-promises, like stepping on broken glass just to hear the crack, is an addiction. You are an addiction, and it was only a matter of time before Risotto had found himself in your company more often than he ought to. In any instance, he avoids your radar, and remarkably so. And yet, the tenacity of your existence drives him mad, and he finds himself asking – perchance under the steady trickle of water in the shower or as he lies in bed at night – if you are truly there, or nothing more than an apparition brought forth from his guilty conscious. That, though now he sees you comparing dress fabrics at the boutique across the street, it is conceivably not truly you but rather another woman – a stranger – with the same color hair.

Alas, you exist in both dreams and materiality.

Each moment that he stumbles upon you, from a respectable distance, he notices something irrevocably new: scuffed Mary Janes exchanged for pointed and polished kitten heels, and pleated skirts swapped for hand-tailored dress pants, creased to suggest your sophistication. As for him, he still wears torn jeans when in public. Unless of course, he is working – then it is a pair of striped pants reminiscent of a caricatured prison inmate’s uniform.

He notices, too, the greater attention taken to your hairstyling and makeup. Maturity is becoming of you, but he always thought you were pretty, even before you had learned how to properly apply eyeshadow and lip gloss. Your clumpy mascara never vied to drive him away. In fact, he rather liked it, but only because it was unapologetically you.

He does not mean to follow you to a café after you leave the boutique, arms cradling several shopping bags amongst your purse and a chic leather briefcase. Invisible to the human eye, Risotto falls in step at your side, so close that he can smell your perfume. It is no longer the olfactory copycat of whatever Versace musk you had always begged your mother to buy for you from the drugstore just down the street from your childhood home. Whatever it is now is unfamiliar, albeit comforting.

The café is quiet at this point in the afternoon. The baristas chatter amongst themselves at the counter, and the ambience music humming through the wall speakers is not unpleasant, although not entirely enjoyable, either. Unbeknownst to you, Risotto takes the seat across from you at the corner booth nearest to the window. It must be a coveted spot, he deduces, for the lighting here is impeccable. Mindful of the blackened coffee atop the table, you open your suitcase and produce a neatly pressed stack of photographs, clothing sketches, and glamour shots.

He observes all of it, and only then does he realize that the new career you spoke of to the grocery store clerk is one in the field of fashion design. And what better city in all of Italia to pursue such a thing than Napoli? He wishes he could have been there to witness the bloom of your success, first-hand – and more, he yearns to exist alone at your side for every last day that you both should live.

All of this at nothing more than your expense. Truly, something impermissibly unforgiveable, if he knew that his baggage – if his very being – is enough to hold you back from everything you deserve. It is why he left. At least now, he can see that his grievous mistake was not for naught.

Your coffee has gone cold. Too focused on correcting shading issues in your blueprints and selecting models for an upcoming show, you have neglected it. Did you even need the coffee, or was it just a show of your poise? How would you react, Risotto wonders, if he were to bring you a fresh cup and allow you to see him? Would you thank him – hug him even? Or scream, kick him away, and throw the scalding hot beverage in his face. He should pray for the former, though the latter would be the easiest to cope with. Because, if you were to look at him with those eyes of yours and smile in earnest, all for him, he would surely fall in love with you all over again. As if he ever stopped loving you in the first place.

He imagines what it must be like to be a part of your new life. He wants nothing more than to reach across the table, to place his shaken palm over the manicured hand clasped around the red felt-tip pen, and ask how your day has been. And the day before. And the day before even then. You might drop the pen too, only to lace your fingers with his and grin. “It’s been great, Ris,” you would say. “Really great, but even better now.”

Instead, you scribble notes in the margins with that same hand and tap your foot to the steady beat of music. How wonderful it must be for those who are capable of picking up where they once left off a lifetime ago. If, after all this time, you are so inclined to adore him again, then you must be the most winsome little fool in the world – but his, nonetheless.

Risotto cannot recall when last he received a contract from the Don, assigned explicitly to the silver-haired man. And so, rather than cooping himself away in the confines of his apartment, smoking until his stomach lurches and he might faint, he roams the city, pegging to the chance that he might find you. The fresh air – as fresh as the air in Napoli can possibly be – is good for him, anyways.

This afternoon, he finds you leaving the post office whilst balancing a packed cardboard box with outstretched arms. You are dressed down, just as he supposes that most normal people do on their days off. Curiosity baits him, like a bobble in the ocean; he shrouds himself and follows you up the cobblestone street ramp, past a row of municipal buildings, down the winding path behind one of many shopping plazas, and directly into the living room of your apartment. He never meant to get this far.

The smooth voice of Mina Mazzini echoes from the turntable atop a wrought-iron accent table placed beside an oak bookshelf containing more decorative figurines and houseplants than actual books. Certainly, your taste in music has not changed. Neither has your preference for caramel-scented candles. For a moment – ever so fleeting – he is a teenage boy again, standing just before bedroom window with his knuckles poised to rapt against the glass. He never told you, for he hid it well behind a stony expression, just how nervous he always felt before visiting you.

More than anything else in his adolescent life, he had feared that one day, you would turn him away. He scarcely cared when his mother verbalized her disgust and chastisement of the boy, or if his father struck him with the belt of his work jeans. Because, in the end, the abuse always gave him a reason to see you. You were his optimistic little silver lining,

Although your sense in interior design is far more elegant than your parents ever fancied, Risotto feels like he is finally home again. It must be the music and the candle – or perhaps it is just the grace of your presence in the setting of domesticity. You set the box on the coffee table and disappear into the kitchen, only to reappear with a stainless-steel knife. He understands his unwarranted intrusion, but just as he makes his way towards the door to leave, your cellphone rings.

“Ciao, Mamma!” you say as you switch to speakerphone. There is only static until your mother speaks to you.

She still sounds the same, though the strain of age weighs heavily on her tone. Suddenly, Risotto is throwing rocks at your window in the nighttime, avoiding the parched tithonias of your father’s garden with his battered sneakers. But this time, it is not you who beckons him in – it is your mother and her infectious altruism that he coveted because she cherished him more than his own mother ever did. She leads him to the dining room table, where you and your father wait, and presents to him a plate of pasta con le sarde.

“Ciao, bambina. Did you get that package I sent yet?”

No questions asked, unless only to inquire if he would like more to drink, or perhaps a second serving; your mother always made extra just in case he needed to get away from home for the night, or if his parents forgot to feed him. He misses his family – his real one, which he thwarted away for trifling revenge. The mere thought of it all sends pangs through his chest, and he thinks he has forgotten how to breathe properly. His mind veers into nothingness, but he knows that everything hurts.

“Mhm! It came today, actually. I’m opening it now.”

Petrified, he watches from across the room as you slice through the packing tape and begin sorting through the box’s contents – assorted bobbles and trinkets of your childhood that were unintentionally left behind after you had moved to Napoli. A few CDs, family photographs, and a work of ceramics-class pottery that had not survived its journey from Palermo. You do not seem bothered by it. Instead, you sweep away the fragmented pieces into a neat pile.

At the very bottom of the box is a scrapbook, ragged from the years of diligent pondering. Several of its pages have stuck together from excess globs of crafting glue. Risotto remembers your endearing hobby, and how embarrassed you had always been to show him your collection. And so, he never asked to see them, though not because he lacked the interest. It must be true that a person is shaped by their early experiences – you spent your youth collaging models with pretty clothes from the pages of magazines; now, you are a considerably successful fashion designer, given your age. Meanwhile, Risotto murdered a man at eighteen – and now, seven years later, he is Passione’s lead hitman. At least he is good at his job, too.

“Uh oh, that didn’t sound good. Don’t tell me that vase broke. I knew I should’ve wrapped it.”

Your dear mother: forgetful and heedless on occasion, though honest by it. You peel the scrapbook open and perch it on your lap, mindful of the delicate spine. Loose bits of glitter trickle from the pages and stick to your pants. Next falls a photograph, separated from the family ones, and wedged away for safe keeping. It is a still-shot of you and Risotto.

“Don’t worry about it! I can just glue it back together.”

However, to be honest, the vase is beyond repair; you have lied to your mother to soothe her guilt. Risotto’s attention has been taken by the photograph on the floor. There, you both sit on the floral-patterned couch that used to adorn your parents’ living room. You lean on his shoulder, beaming to the camera, as he stares ahead, stagnant. Truly, he wanted to smile and to throw his arm around you. He refrained; he did not want to look weak in front of your mother, who had taken the photograph that day.

Because his father never let him forget the vulnerability of emotions.

“Well, that’s good to hear. Listen, dolce, I’ve got to go. Tuo padre needs help in the workshop. But I’ll call you later. Ti amo, ti amo!”

In this moment, he lets his guard down, albeit inadvertently so. Metallica dissipates, and for the first time in what feels like forever – or at least, far too many years worth counting – Risotto Nero surmises that he might cry. As opposed to when you were both still young, it will be easier to run away now: no confrontation, and none of that selfish heartbreak. The gap between him and the door may be closed in two strides. In two strides, he will leave you again, for evermore. And even when he is gone, he will keep telling himself that this is for the best.

“Ti amo, Mamma.”

You reach down for the photograph. You had not meant to let it fall, though you suppose there is little use of it now, if not to keep it as a memento of your own perpetual loss. You dust it off and shake away the green and gold specks of glitter that adhere to the lamination. When the floorboards creak, you look up and meet the pleading gaze of the man whom you think you hate, and whom you think you love. You are good at pretending to do either. And thus, as you both wait in brooding quietude, you know not whether to call the police or to hurry into his arms. You are still, frozen in time – frozen in life.

As for Risotto, he longs for cicadas and katydids to break the terse silence that looms between you two.

Or maybe, just a cigarette.

| 3724 Words |

#risotto nero x reader #risotto x reader #risotto nero #jjba reader insert #jjba x reader

77 notes · View notes

miminorenai · 4 years ago

Photo

Chapter 2

Sebastian “Mimi —··· you don’t have any injuries, don’t you?”

MC “Huh, y-yes!”

MC comes to her senses with that very calm voice.

MC “Um, Sebastian too, are you hurt......

Sebastian “I don’t get hurt just by catching you.”

(I-if so, that’s great, though.)

With the warmth of the kiss remains on her lips, somehow MC manages to pretend to be calm, despite being greatly shaken.

MC “Thank you very much for saving me.”

Sebastian “It’s dangerous, so please be careful from now on.”

MC “I’ll be careful. Like, really careful.”

Just as MC’s trying to hold back her throbbing heart that doesn’t seem to settle......

Sebastian “By the way, I think we’d better get up from each other soon.”

(Huh? Ugh, I left Sebastian lied underneath me!)

MC “I’m sorry......! I’m really, truly sorry!”

Sebastian stands up as if nothing happened, follows after MC who gets up in a hurry.

Sebastian “No need to worry about it. You must be shaking, since you’d been falling down from the stepladder.”

Sebastian “I’ll check again, but you aren’t injured, are you? Is there any scratches or pain......

MC “I’m perfectly fine, no problem!”

Sebastian “I feel relieved. Well then, please take a rest today.”

MC “T-then......*if you insist, **pardon me for leaving.”

[*お言葉に甘えて - literally - I will let myself be spoiled with your kind words; I will let myself follow your nice words; I will accept your kind offer

[**お先に失礼します - pardon me for leaving (first) (used when leaving a workplace while others remain)

Sebastian “Thank you for your hard work.”

MC hides the lips that touch Sebastian with the back of her hand and averts her eyes.

(Sebastian’s attitude doesn’t change at all. I wonder if he didn’t realize it......)

(Or, is it my imagination that I thought our lips touched?)

When MC is about to leave while carrying over a hazy feeling......

Sebastian “............Mimi.”

Sebastian “Although it’s an accident — I’m sorry.”

MC “......!”

His eyes that’s staring at her, which are not normally shaken, trembling in confusion.

(It doesn’t matter even if I don’t ask, that’s how is it, right?)

MC “No, no, it’s due to my carelessness to begin with......! Good night!”

MC clatters into the corridor, and exhales the breath she has been holding at once.

(After all, at that time......It’s an accident, so I shouldn’t worry about it. I shouldn’t, but......)

(That’s the first time I saw Sebastian’s face so close......)

Sebastian, who has been working with MC this past month, is closer to her than anyone else.

They are supposed to be close as colleagues, but now MC realizes he’s also a man, the violent throbbing in her chest doesn’t seem to subside.

(What should I do, I’m getting so embarrassed.)

(*Mou......what kind of face should I show when I meet him tomorrow?)

[*もう - interjection used to strengthen expression of an emotion (often exasperation)

Early next morning.

(Act normally. Act normally. Calm down......)

When MC goes to the dining room while maintaining her *usual mind dedication, Sebastian’s opening the curtains.

[*平常心 - one’s natural self

Sebastian “Good morning, Mimi.”

MC “Good morning. Let me help you.”

Sebastian “Then, may I ask for you to take care of the opposite windows?”

MC “Leave it to me.”

(I’m glad we could have conversation as usual.)

(......Or rather, Sebastian hasn’t changed at all.)

Although it’s a bit of disappointment, as MC opens the curtains while still feeling relieved of their usual interaction......

MC “Eh......Sebastian, that flower is blooming.”

Sebastian “That flower?”

MC “Look, that bud we found together in the flowerbed a while ago, the tiny one —

Sebastian “Where is it?”

When MC points out of the window, her shoulder touches Sebastian who walks up next to her.

(Whoa......)

Sebastian “I can’t see it well.”

MC “......”

Sebastian’s face, who’s bending over, seems like about to keep close to MC and it takes her breath away.

(We-we are so close, like yesterday......)

Sebastian “Mimi?”

Stepping back in a hurry, Sebastian looks back at MC wonderingly.

Sebastian “Is something wrong?”

(Let’s get away from here for one moment and calm down!)

Mimi “I’m going to sprinkle water in the garden!”

Sebastian “It’s hard doing it alone. Let me as well......”

Mimi “It’s all right. *I’m off!”

[*行ってきます - see you later

(I’m sorry for acting strangely.)

(But right now, being around Sebastian is too bad for my heart......!)

MC wants to hide her rapidly hotter cheeks, so she leaves the dining room in order to escape.

And after that......

Sebastian “Please give Theodorus-san a pancake with more syrup and berry sauce.”

MC “Yes. ......Oh.”

When MC picks up the plate, her fingertips touch Sebastian lightly.

Her body quivers with a start, and the pancake slips off from the slanted plate.

(The pancake......!)

Sebastian “— I’ll take care of that.”

Sebastian picks up the plate with splendor movement and catches the pancake in the air.

MC “Awe-awesome!”

Sebastian “A butler must be prepared for every situation.”

MC “Sebastian is the model of a butler.”

Sebastian “I’m certainly aiming for that.”

Sebastian “Leaving that aside, what happened? You seem to be distracted by something.”

(Uu, it was so obvious......)

MC “......It’s nothing. I’ll carry this then.”

MC takes the plate this time and hurriedly gets away from Sebastian.

(So embarrassing......I’m getting very conscious of Sebastian.)

(I worry too much about every single thing. Just concentrate well on your job, me......!)

That afternoon, Arthur and Theo asked MC to bring them coffee as they’re relaxing in the living room.

MC “Arthur, here you go.”

Arthur “Thanks. Umm~ the coffee Mimi brews is the best.”

MC “I’m glad to hear that. But I don’t think I can reach Sebastian’s taste yet.”

Arthur, who’s sitting deeply at the sofa, looks up and grins meaningfully at MC.

Arthur “Just because you’re the one who brews it, the deliciousness adds up.”

Theo “Mystery writers with their overly subjective speaking manner.”

Theo “Well, hondje’s doing a good job, but Sebas’s brewed coffee is certainly delicious.”

MC “It’s not only the coffee. I think his cooking is very delicious as well, and his cleaning is flawless.”

(Beside that, he’s very knowledgeable......Is there anything Sebastian can’t do?)

Theo “Why is it hondje who’s looking so proud?”

Theo gives a wry smile while drinking his coffee that’s full with sugar cubes.

Arthur “Of course it’s because Sebas is so competent that she wants to brag about her colleague, right?”

Arthur “We’re grateful for the dramatic improvement in our lives, thanks to Sebas.”

MC “Is it so different than now?”

Theo “The quality of life before he came was terrible. You could say the mansion was a lawless area.”

(To that extent, huh.)

Arthur “Everyone drank, ate, drank and woke up as they please, isn’t it?”

Theo “This writer with all year-round mating season would constantly spending the night away.”

Arthur “If so, then Dazai too had been wandering around. ......Wait, that guy hasn’t change at all even now, has he?”

MC “I see, it’s like a share house with no rules.”

MC “But there was no butler at that time?”

Arthur “Sometimes we brought in housekeepers. But, it’s hard to keep live-in employees.”

MC “Hard?”

Theo stares at MC in puzzlement and shrugs his shoulder.

Theo “Hondje, have you forgotten our identity?”

MC “Ah, vampires, you mean?”

Theo “There’s really nothing else beside that. Even if a butler or servants are hired, it’s difficult to keep the secret if we are living together.”

Theo “There’re not many strangers who can work here, knowing the truth.”

(Sure, when I got lost here, I tried to escape immediately.)

While MC’s deeply convinced based on her real experiences......

Dazai “But then le Comte discovered Sebas-kun, a commendable butler.”

(Ah, Dazai-san.)

Dazai smiles as he gets into the room through the window, like usual.

Dazai “I owe it to him coming that I came to be able to eat miso soup and boiled tofu.”

MC “That is to say, without Sebastian, this mansion wouldn’t go around.”

Dazai “Quite so. It’s no exaggeration to say that our lifeline is in Sebas-kun’s grasp.”

(I’ve felt it many times during the past month, but Sebastian really is doing everything, and everyone is relying on him.)

Even her share of workload as a helper was difficult for MC.

But until then, she is surprised to hear that Sebastian had done everything by himself.

(His etiquette is perfect, I wonder if he learned the conduct of a butler back when he was in modern era?)

(He sure is a man with lots of mysteries. Ah, but speaking of which......)

MC “Sebastian......have you ever missed your home and thought of wanting to go back to the present-day?”

Sebastian “No. Placing myself among history is something I couldn’t hope for.”

Sebastian “I — since I abandoned this world myself.”

(I don’t know the exact details, but Sebastian wants to stay here.)

Arthur “What’s wrong?”

MC “Ah......somehow I think I’m the only one who’s staying here by the course of events.”

MC “Since I’m not in this world for some purposes.”

Theo “In your case, it’s inevitable, isn’t it?”

(That’s true, but......)

Dazai “Again, your stay in this mansion is an inevitable outcome. I already considered Toshiko-san as ‘*my lady’.”

[*うちの子 - 子 here usually used to mention one’s child/daughter/son, but it’s considered weird for Dazai to consider MC his child (tho it’s kind of acceptable, with his lifetime adding to the additional time of his revived life, I think?), and it’s also could be referred as young woman, so I decided ‘lady’ is better used here~

Arthur “Do you perhaps mean it as ‘the mansion’s lady’? There’s an objection if you’re calling her as yours alone.”

Dazai “Well, I wonder~”

While paying no attention to their frivolous talk, MC vaguely thinking about her future.

(Everyone and Sebastian are choosing to stay in this mansion with a strong will.)

(How much longer will I stay here, I wonder?)

(I don’t know what would the future stores for me, so I guess I’ll just spend my days somehow as it is......)

He suddenly stops walking by the lively voices heard from the room.

Sebastian “......”

While listening to Mimi and the others’ conversation, a pensive (or worried) look shown on Sebastian’s face for a moment.

#ikemen vampire #ikevam #ikevam sebastian #ikevam spoilers

54 notes · View notes

crispyliza · 5 years ago

Text

Spamano multi-chapter fanfiction recommendation masterlist!

For all you home-quarantined people that have nothing to do and also because I’ve been meaning on making one of these since 2015 (took a global pandemic to get me started lol)

These fanfics are all with multiple chapters and listed in no particular order. Of course some are better than others, but every single one has its charms! I added only a few with 3 or 4 chapters because i liked them too much not to whereas the rest of the fanfics have at least 5+ chapters. So without further ado, here they are:

Una Notte A Napoli “One night in Naples, by the moon and sea, my heart was stolen by an angel who had forgotten how to fly.” (completed)

Per Sempre Tuo “Lovino Vargas, better known as Romano, is a famous TV actor. He has everything anyone could ever want. The only problem is that the thing he wants, over-night singing sensation Antonio Fernandez, is married.” (completed)

HOVA “The Nova Sagittarius was a ship that would take myself and countless other passengers on a one month trip around our solar system. But things went wrong; the ship changed and just like that, we were stranded. We got to know each other but more than that, we got to know ourselves.” (completed)

What We’d Do Without Gravity “While lost in a hospital Antonio comes across young terminally ill patient, Lovino Vargas. With Lovino left only six months to live it’s an awful time a romance to blossom between the ill fated pair, but with a bucket list to race through as the clock ticks down, the two find that love is very hard to avoid.” (completed)

Numbered Lithograph “When Lovino starts attending art school with his brother he finds his most important lesson doesn’t come from his professors, but from a culinary student at a sister school: sometimes the flaws hold the beauty.” (completed)

Tienimi Streto “Lovino Vargas is a detective with a poor attitude and a dark past, driven to the side of law by pain and revenge. After his partner quits, he is paired with specially recruited Antonio Carriedo, who becomes something more than just a co-worker. When deaths linked to the Italian start popping up over the city, Lovino begins to question everything he thought he knew.” (on-going)

More than attraction “Antonio says he met his love’s eyes over the bin of tomatoes. Lovino says he was stalked relentlessly until he was forced to give in.” (completed)

Credo “AU, 1502. Fueled by revenge, Lovino Vargas hasn’t failed an assassination job yet - but when a new Spanish captain comes to Rome, killing the unorthodox Antonio Carriedo might just be the death of him.” (completed)

Secret Tunnels from Madrid to Sicily “When Antonio Fernández Carriedo begins work as a professor at a prestigious university in Britain, one of his students, a Sicilian boy who goes by the name Romano, immediately catches his eye. He is a clearly gifted writer, who closes himself off in the wake of a dark and painful history. Even wrapped in his darkness, pushing everyone away, Toni finds himself determined to bring out the potential within Romano…They drag each other into a passionate, inevitable affair–doomed, they know, to end in flames.” (completed)

Why Did it Have to be You? “Lovino’s parents are tired of his horrible behavior, and hire Antonio to babysit him. But time is a cruel mistress, and in absence the heart grows fonder. These are just some of the things Antonio and Lovino will learn.” (completed)

And the Birds Sing No More “Don’t ever leave me.” Lovino said nothing. He allowed the tense heaviness to settle among his shoulders, tighten his lungs, and spread between the space from where he stood to where Antonio was seated lethargically. Antonio’s gaze sharpened. Lovino, inclining his head slightly, whispered, “I won’t.” (completed)

A Dancing Star “Antonio is the easy-going, life-loving art professor and Lovino is the Italian exchange student who walks into his art studio. When Antonio falls in love he thought he only had his job to worry about, but maybe it’s Lovino’s dark secret that’ll push him away. Trigger warning for self-harm and dark themes.” (completed)

Kismet “Lovino learns the hard way that things change and that they can change quickly. The necklace fell and now he’s in a strange land far from home. Will he ever see his brother again? Will he find his way home? Or will he discover home is where the heart is? Fate is a strange woman and can work in mysterious ways.” (completed)

Let that be enough “Lovino had given up hoping for someone who’d care about him. Antonio never expected to fall for the most tormented guy in town. But dark secrets and hidden dangers threatens their blooming relationship. Is it over before it even begun..?” (completed)

Child services “Romano and Feliciano Vargas have just lost their parents. Romano, who is 22, must care for his 6 year old little brother. Enter Antonio Carreido, the agent from Child Services who must record his progress, however, it’s hard for the cheerful Spaniard to keep from falling in love with this little broken down family and with Romano.” (on-going)

Loving a Stranger “You don’t remember, but I know you. We were- I don’t even know how to describe our relationship. That sounds bad, I know. I think you might have been in love with me, although I cannot see why. That’s just what I’ve been told. I acted as though I hated you, but I never did. I was afraid, because you were kind to me. I didn’t know I loved you until you forgot me…“ (completed)

The Many Personalities of Spain “England casts a spell to rid himself of Spain. As expected it goes wrong; leaving Romano to deal with the many personalities of Spain. That sounds like a normal day for Romano, right? It would be if the personalities not had their own personifications.” (on-going)

Daisy Genocide “My name is Lovino Vargas but that’s not who I actually am. I’m my brother. They put his DNA into a little ball of jello and grew me like a house plant. To say it blatantly, I’m a clone and I’m in a disturbing amount of trouble. I’m about to tell the story of my fight to preserve my humanity followed by a vicious history of crime but it’s a secret. Nobody has to know.” (completed)

More Than Meets The Eye “Striving to find approval and meaning, Antonio throws himself into the world of art determined to come out on top. Yet, in all of his searching, burning, and pain, he never thought that a single culinary student could ever manage to tear down his walls and make him face his biggest fear; himself.” (on-going)

Cryonic “After suffering a fatal attack from an unknown illness, Lovino Vargas underwent cryopreservation, leaving behind his only family, his boyfriend, and a blooming company. Years later the effects are only just coming into play causing more problems than his preservation was supposed to solve. Human AU; T for language; pre-established Spamano.” (on-going)

All of Our Flaws “Antonio is a man whose world revolves around anyone but himself. Lovino is a man with dreams bigger than a job behind a drugstore counter. Antonio is broken; Lovino is incomplete. Will a chance meeting lead them to mending their cracks and finding their missing pieces? Human AU, trigger warning for self-harm.” (on-going)

Truly an artist “Having already completed college, Lovino Vargas lives in Madrid as an artist suffering from severe artist’s block. In one of his visits to his old school he runs into a new teacher, Antonio Fernández Carriedo, who decides he’ll be the one to help Lovino in his endeavor to find himself. However cheerful and optimistic, Lovino still feels there’s more to Antonio than he’s letting on.” (completed)

The Heartbreaker “Sometimes the best things happen unexpectedly. Certainly this is Antonio’s opinion at the moment. The handsome stranger he met upon moving to a new town in Italy seems to be able to do almost no wrong. Until he digs a little deeper below the surface and begins to discover an unsettling reputation. And if the rumours are true, is it wise to trust a man known as ‘The Heartbreaker?” (completed)

We sing, We dance, We eat tomatoes “When Lovino Vargas takes in a starving guitar player called the Curbside Prophet from the streets of Philadelphia, he isn’t expecting the man to tolerate him for more than a couple weeks, much less fall in love with him. Based on the the music by Jason Mraz.” (on-going)

Underwater Land “Antonio was a merman. Lovino hated water. It was truly a match made in heaven.” (completed)

Flashlight “If I throw a tomato at you, vampire bastard, will you still sparkle under the sauce?” Twilight parody. (completed)

Catch you, Catch me “Clumsy, clueless detective Romano is on the trail of the infamous handsome and charming thief El Apasionado Caballero. But there’s more to this, what seems like a simple game of cat and mouse, than meets the eye.” (completed)

Blackbird “Antonio walks into a small coffee joint, hoping for just some caffeine to take the edge off of late-night studying for midterms, and gets a whole lot more than he bargained for in the form of a snarky, foulmouthed, Italian barista.” (on-going)

Counting Stars “Antonio, failed writer and journalist, thinks things are finally going his way when he lands an interview with actor Lovino Vargas. But it’s only the start of a long line of problems… the biggest of which may be Vargas himself.” (on-going)

Cosa Nostra “Based on the historical background of the Sicilian Mafia during the First Mafia War starring Mafia!Romano.” (completed)

Tight Rope “Rich, spoiled kid Lovino Vargas hates pirates. Pirate captain Antonio Carriedo hates rich, spoiled kids. None of them ever thought they could feel something different from hatred towards one another. However, Fate seems to have different plans for them, and twists their lives in unexpected ways.” (on-going)

When You Recover “Nurse Lovino Vargas has to take care of brain damaged patient Antonio Carriedo, who seems to have a strange affection towards him. N-not that Lovino likes it! The Italian is determined to make the man recover, no matter what it takes. What will little Lovino get himself into with this patient?” (on-going)

Like All Things, It Ends “Lovino doesn’t want his family to know how much his childhood trauma still affects him and he does a good job at hiding it. That is, until he moves to a new town and meets Antonio, someone he is unable to hide anything from. (Warnings for PTSD, Depression, harmful thinking of oneself, and violent death of a loved one)” (completed)

Wish upon a star “A drunken wish on a star lands Lovino back in the time of pirates, and when he runs into a familiar face with an unfamiliar personality, he’ll start to question his own heart. Pirate!SpainxRomano. Rated for language, violence, and maybe mature situation” (completed)

Crooked Timber “As an artist, Lovino understands that perfection doesn’t exist. If only Antonio agreed with him, and stopped trying to hurt himself. -Human (College) AU. Spamano multi-chapter with other minor pairings. Depressed!Antonio, Writer!Antonio, Artist!Lovino- TW for self-harm.” (completed)

Just Pretend! “Romano liked Emma- a lot. Except her stupid big brother was too overprotective (and, okay, a little scary)! He wouldn’t allow any guy near her- unless they weren’t romantically interested in Emma. So, Romano decided to pretend to be gay, with the help of Antonio, in hopes of getting Emma to fall in love with him. Perfect plan, right?” (completed)

The Duty of an Elder Son “Lovino Vargas knew a lot about duty.” His Grandfather’s swollen empire puts all of his family in danger, the other gangs are massing, the police are on their tails and Lovino is given a bodyguard in one Antonio Carriedo. 1920s Mafia AU fic. (completed)

Flatmates “They were flatmates, they were best friends and they were really frustrated about relationships. So what would two young men do about this?” (completed)

Zero Tolerance “Lovino lives a perfect life. Or atleast thats how he is suppose to appear. Antonio lives a life as a dangerous gangbanger. North Side meets South Side as these two are partnered in their Chemistry class. But there is one chemical reaction these 2 arent prepared for- Love. AU, human names used. Based on the book “Perfect Chemistry” by Simone Elkeles.” (completed)

Your Love Can Be My SIght “Seventeen year old Lovino Vargas lost his sight in a terrible car accident. Antonio, a teacher at Lovino’s school was born without it. Can Antonio teach Lovino that even without sight, life can be beautiful?” (completed)

The Greatest Treasure, You Idiot! “Spinoff of the “Sea Foam” chapter in Hetalia Fairy Tales. Captain Carriedo of the pirate ship, Buscador Dorado, seeks a legendary treasure “that is worth gaining” with the help of the infamous wish-giver, Lovino. But what is the true treasure?” (completed)

Crowns of Triple Gold “Things are rarely simple for Romano in the Eternal City, especially when he falls for one of his clients, a Hispanian senator up for consul against his father.” (completed)

Prisoners on the Slave Ship of Love “Lovino Vargas has been captured and taken hostage in a pirate raid led by Captain Antonio Fernandez Carriedo and his band of Spanish buccaneers. Tensions grow high and hearts are tested when Lovino becomes Captain Carriedo’s personal prisoner…” (on-going)

The Lemon Tree “Lovino didn’t want to be a slave in that scary mansion. He needed to break free. The fight for independence, however, is a difficult path, and falling in love with the man that destroyed his life doesn’t make things any easier.” (completed)

Sun Kissed “A powerful man once created gods to rule the sky as the creatures of the land lives. The Sun and the Moon. Brothers since birth, and all powerful, they rule side by side. As time passes, the Sun realizes how unhappy he is watching people hide from him. What happens when he discovers a man who isn’t afraid to live under the harsh sun?” (completed)

Tesoro Mio “Antonio’s the charming, handsome farmer with an infuriating Spanish accent, and Lovino is the mysterious wine entrepreneur who comes and goes. When Antonio falls in love, he throws society, expectations, and religion to the wayside, but can a strict Catholic like Lovino do the same?” (completed)

Because of the war “A first person POV for Romano during and after WW2. His thoughts as he fights and survives. Beware of angst.” (completed)

Just Add one Mermaid’s Tear “To gain something of ultimate value; the unthinkable must be preformed. The line is etched upon the brow of every nation, the taste of the water still on their lips. What happens though when one nation desires the fountain of youth once more?” (completed)

Until the Moss Had Reached Our Lips, and Covered Up Our Names “In a city filled to the brim with gangs, all the territory split between them, peace has lasted for the past sixteen years. It’s a tentative peace, won after the last massive gang war reshaped the entire city. Except all it takes is one domino to fall, and the Vargas patriarch is dead, leaving behind Antonio to lead his house, who isn’t even his blood relative. With an untried Head, the balance of power has started to shift again, and it seems as good a time as any to start calling in old debts and revenges.” (on-going)

The Bet “When someone kisses you, and then moves away you’d think that would be it. But when Antonio comes back from Spain he wants Lovino to be his again. Except Lovino now hates Antonio…which sucks for Lovino because Antonio isn’t going to let go that easily.” (completed)

Wings “People ask me a lot why I love him. Why I spend so much time chasing him when he never returns my feelings. It’s because I see something they don’t.” (on-going)

My Heart is Drenched in Wine “Wine and romance. More importantly, when you cut through my wine!fangirling, this is a story about Lovino and Antonio and how they find their way back together (in spite of the past and occasionally the present) as they attempt to make wine and sometimes love.” (completed)

Of Two Minds “Feliciano and Lovino are living on the streets, with a secret that keeps them from getting close to anyone. Will their lives get better or worse after being forced to join a pirate crew, and what will happen when their secret finally comes out? Rated T for some (minor) violence, Romano’s mouth, and some angsty feelings. Pirate AU.” (completed)

Beats of Fever “Antonio Fernández Carriedo is a doctor working in Madrid dealing with a crush on an Italian tourist when the tensions in Spain reach a head and Civil War breaks out.” (on-going)

All of Our Sins “Lovino is Catholic, but he’s not entirely sure what he believes. Nevertheless, he and his brother Feliciano are forced to attend confirmation classes. When Lovino meets their group leader- bizarre, cheerful Antonio; one of the first people to treat Lovino like he matters- things get complicated. When they find this church is much darker than it appears, things get terrifying. Fast.” (completed)

Es Sólo Tu Corazón “Lovino has been in love with Spain for as long as he can remember. All he wants is to be with his former caretaker, but he soon finds out that the Spain he knew as a child is no longer there…and the real one is far more dangerous.” (on-going)

There Goes My Life “Antonio, 26, a old gourmet chef, a bachelor who’s all party. Lovino a 20 y/o premed student who only has one goal, to be become a doctor. He is determined to let his feelings for the Spaniard fade away, but after receiving devastating news, a drunken one night stand leads to the end of life as Lovino knows it.” (on-going)

As We Were “Rich, bored and unhappy, Lovino Vargas is the heir to his grandfather’s wine brand. Antonio is the restless young traveller prone to attacks of claustrophobia. For them, falling in love is a journey. Literally. Spamano, Human AU, multi-chapter. Warnings for language and sexual themes.” (completed)

NekoRoma “Antonio has been feeling lonely with his recent break up with his on/off boyfriend. The solution: a new kitten that his boss doesn’t want. Just as he gets used to this cat, a new challenge is thrown at him. How do you teach a cat to be human?” (completed)

Summer Sensations “The hot summer nights of Madrid bring many things, but one very special night changes two lives forever. Lovino learns that love is not such a frivolous thing after all.” (completed)

Fools Like Us “What starts out as a normal Friday night for the “Bad Touch Trio” soon becomes an opportunity for Francis to use his favorite word in reference to his best friends. Unfortunately, Gilbert and Antonio couldn’t possibly have fallen for people who would return their feelings easily, but Francis is determined to help them out despite his own relationship-or lack thereof.” (completed)

Hear Me “Antonio and Lovino are trying their best to get by in high school, but between the stresses of grades, family, friends, and heartache, it’s a lot harder than it looks.” (completed)

Fame and Fortune “Lovino Vargas is a barkeeper and reluctant Stasi informant. As much as he despises what he does, he obeys the terrifying Red Army colonel, Ivan Braginsky. That is, until the secretive and frustratingly attractive Antonio Fernandez Carriedo arrives in his life and breaks all the rules. Inspired by the Elvis Presley song of the same name.” (on-going)

It’s all Antonio’s Fault “Condoms, footballs to the stomach, fake nurses, confusing hallways, and flying backpacks. Lovino Vargas’s first day at World Academy was already one of his worst, and he could only imagine that it would spiral downwards as he got to know the tomato bastard, otherwise known as Antonio Fernandez Carriedo.” (on-going)

My Antonio “Going against everything in his strict, Catholic upbringing, Lovino has fallen desperately into love and lust for his family’s Spanish stable boy, Antonio.” (completed)

Sound Life “Spain is dead, leaving Romano distraught and wishing for there to be a way for him to see his beloved Spaniard alive and healthy…Only to wake up in a strange alternate world… with another Spain seeking his affection.” (completed)

Possessively Scary “Romano begins college late with his brother after their nonno passes away. When entering, he meets a very strange Spaniard. The man is odd but still attractive at the same time. As they get closer, Romano learns more about Antonio and doesn’t know if he should be scared of the man or not. Can he get out of something he got himself into?” (on-going)

This Dance “Antonio wants Lovino to be his dancepartner at Austria’s ball. Lovino, struggling with his growing feelings of love and affection for everyone’s favorite tomato-bastard as always, agrees. Now, there could be worse things, right?” (completed)

Powdered Sugar “Truth, like powdered sugar, tastes sweet but goes down cold. If a spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down, we might need a bit more.” (completed)

Singles “Antonio, Francis, and Gilbert are three friends who suffered their first heartbreaks at the age of fifteen, and made a pact to never fall in love again. That will change for Antonio when he first lays eyes on a brown-haired young man in a club…” (completed)

A Heated Story “Sky High / superpower hs au. wip. Lovino Vargas is a new kid at Sky High with his brother. He has the power to control fire. Only one problem, he hates the heat. Spamano, and other ships. Doesn’t actually have anything to do with the movie, just used the school.” (on-going)

I Don’t Hate You “Lovino and his brothers face the unknown while on a mission to Earth. The Italian angel comes up against more than he bargained for when a dark angel takes a liking to him and now he and Feliciano might be cast out.” (completed)

Like all things, it ends “Lovino doesn’t want his family to know how much his childhood trauma still affects him and he does a good job at hiding it. That is, until he moves to a new town and meets Antonio, someone he is unable to hide anything from.” (completed)

Disegno e Colore “A young, apprenticing artist, Lovino craves rationality, perfection, and self-possession, and has curated his life to one day attain that. He never expected a chaotic and brash painter to barrel into his life and test everything Lovino thought he wanted and knew of himself, his art, and his heart.” (on going)

Land Beyond Dreams “Antonio is saved from death by someone he’d spoken to only a few times, but who lost his life in the process. Grief-stricken, he only wishes he could have gotten to know his savior, when his dreams suddenly become reality…or are they still only dreams?” (completed)

It’s All Antonio’s Fault “Condoms, footballs to the stomach, fake nurses, confusing hallways, and flying backpacks. Lovino Vargas’s first day at World Academy was already one of his worst, and he could only imagine that it would spiral downwards as he got to know the tomato bastard, otherwise known as Antonio Fernandez Carriedo.” (on-going)

A tale of endurance “Lovino had no idea what to do. Knowing that your life will be over in half a year tends to do that to you. Well, one thing he knew for sure. No one would ever discover this until the day he was pushing daisies. And that was a fact.” (completed)

The Risk of Love “Romano is dead and Spain is broken, spiralling into the deep, blackness of depression. And as he locks himself from the outside world, isolating himself from his friends, from everyone, in his oblivion of pain, Romano find’s he’s the only one who can help. Only, how can useless ghost like him even dream to help the slowly dying love of his life?” (completed)

Dance with me “Lovino Vargas started taking tango lessons completely by accident. Who would have thought that one day he wouldn’t mind those hands roaming over his body? That he would be dancing with his teacher as if there was no one in the room but the two of them?” (on-going)

Fireflies “Lovino was abandoned in Italy with his grandfather at age seven because his parents liked his little brother better than they liked him. On his way back from America, he sits next to a far too happy Spaniard. But, when this childish Spaniard turns out to be his new teacher, what will happen? And with a field trip to Venice on the way, what antics will they get up to?” (on-going)

El Corazón del Pirata “Fate is once kind, twice cruel. And Captain Antonio Fernandez Carriedo does not have a heart, nor does he fall in love with his prisoners. But Lovino Vargas might just be the fuel to his flame - certainly there’s more to him than meets the eye.” (completed)

More Than Lust “Why did the Spaniard always hope for the impossible? That Romano would come to him one day, confessing his feelings, and they would make LOVE? That they would cry out each others names, he could hold the Italian, wake up the next morning, and he would still be there?” (completed)

The Prince and the Pauper “When Prince Feliciano goes missing, it is up to a poor servant boy Romano to step in to take his place and thwart an evil plan to take over the kingdom. However, falling in love was something neither one anticipated. Based off of the Princess and the Pauper.” (completed)

Talking to My Shadow “Lovino spends his life telling doctors about his brother, Feliciano. They hear about his look-alike brother everyday but never see him. Lovino is finally taken to a new physiologist and he meets the doctor’s son, a springy little Spaniard who’s excited to help his new friend, no matter the difficulty. Will this illness mean a life time of seclusion for Lovino or can he win?” (completed)

Spend my time dancing “As much as Lovino loved seeing the upperclassman in his soccer jersey, he’d much rather help him take it off. It’s about time they started playing on the same field. AU. SpaMano. Various others. All’s fair in love and soccer.” (completed)

Maybe, Just Maybe “Romano couldn’t help but be instantly attracted to the stranger on the train, the one with bright green eyes and an unforgettable smile. How could something so simple end up changing his life so much?” (completed)

Dead Alone “Lovino drains the life from anything he touches, seriously. It seems that he’s the embodiment of death while his lively twin brother is his counterpart life. He has isolated himself from everyone, for their own protection. So what happens when a new transfer student decides to take an interest in him his freshman year of high school?” (on-going)

Lovino and the Conquistador “Lovino lived a life of simple pleasures; a good book, his own little world and an odd, but loving, family. However, in order to save his family, he must take their place as prisoner of a hideous beast within a gloomy castle. Based on “Beauty and the Beast” (completed)

Truth Be Told “The Well of Uncomfortable Truths is discovered & deals Spain a hard fact- "Whenever you said you loved him, you didn’t really mean it. You were thinking of his brother. They were empty words.” Can Romano be convinced about whom the Well was talking about?” (completed)

Scaliest “When his entire life is taken from him, Antonio vowed to slay the beast that ruined his life no matter the cost. But on his travels he meets a secretive, sassy bard who might be more helpful than either of them realize. Is vengeance the answer or is there more at stake?” (on-going)

All I’ve lost “Lovino Vargas has slowly fallen into the trap that is Anorexia. He meets Antonio who is a strangely kind kid. Lovino thinks maybe, just maybe…there is hope. Warnings: Depression, anorexia, bulimia, mental illness and bullying.” (completed)

Infection “Antonio didn’t know what to think of the man who randomly showed up in his home… completely naked. Yet, he still found himself drawn to this “Lovino”, only to be thrown into his worst nightmare.” (on-going)

Tomato Angel “What happens when Antonio get’s jealous? (Aftermath of ‘Awesome Being Evil’)” (completed)

Step-Lovers “King Romulus is getting married to Queen Isabel. While the wedding goes smoothly, things don’t go all that smooth for Antonio and Lovino. The heat is especially turned up when it’s decided that there will be a competition for who gets to be heir to the throne.” (completed)

There goes my life “Antonio, 26, a old gourmet chef, a bachelor who’s all party. Lovino a 20 y/o premed student who only has one goal, to be become a doctor. He is determined to let his feelings for the Spaniard fade away, but after receiving devastating news, a drunken one night stand leads to the end of life as Lovino knows it.” (on-going)

Broken Wings, Healed Hearts “Junior Lovino Vargas, a broken angel, has a dark secret he’s determined to keep to himself, now matter how much of an outcast it makes him. But will his new neighbor, Antonio, change that?” (completed)

The Reunion “Light or Dark?” Lovino asked. Feliciano studied him before answering. “Light. Light always wins” When Feliciano Vargas catches the eye of a mysterious man only by the name of “The Lord,” he finds himself and his brother on an adventure ending in Germany’s infamous Black Forest. However, the Lord’s affections are not what they appear to be and Lovino finds himself worried there is a worse threat other than some creep trying to get into his brother’s pants. (on-going)

Slowly But Surely In Love “Lovino Vargas turns fifteen, the age at which the words of peoples’ soul-mates say to them when they first meet is branded onto their wrists. Feliciano has a brand as soon as the hand strikes midnight, but why doesn’t Lovino?” (completed)

Life with Lyrics Lovino Style “Lovino struggles with what he believes is a one-sided crush and his completely oblivious, also entirely too cheerful, brother. Mentions of suicide, but not a death fic!” (completed)

Walking the Line “Maybe stumbling into Walmart in search of supplies during the end of the world wasn’t as good of an idea as Lovino initially thought. Nothing screamed desperate like raiding the aisles of a fucking Walmart for food while a hoard of the undead snarled at him from outside, but that didn’t seem to matter to the armed trio he stumbled into, or more specifically, the odd Spaniard munching on Skittles. His ideas were getting to be pretty lackluster these days.” (ongoing)

Hymn to the Sea “Please, call me Antonio,” he says. “Oh, and Lovino?” “What?” Lovino snaps, a little sharper than he wants when his brain has finally caught up to his embarrassment and he realizes he’s acting like a love-sick child. He finds he still can’t keep up when Antonio’s smile changes into something different: not the friendliness it was earlier nor the comforting warmth it was moments ago. No, this one is affectionate. “I prefer your smile over Feliciano’s any day,” he says, quiet and honest. (completed)

I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You “Throughout the 500 years they spent together, Antonio never stopped reminding Lovino of how special he was, and Lovino never stopped making Antonio the happiest man on earth.” (completed)

Lentamente “Antonio and Lovino are struggling with catastrophic life changes. A traumatic event leaves Antonio scared of his own shadow; a romantic betrayal destroys Lovino’s ability to trust people. And when coping seems impossible, can dance save them?” (completed)

We’d Be Together “Something felt off about Antonio’s new home. The stairs creaked, the windows groaned, and in the mirror he saw a face he didn’t know. The face was young but the gestures old; Toni began a romance untold. He felt an issue new to most… if only he could touch Lovino the ghost.” (completed)

Blessed WIth A Curse “Monsters are real… and they didn’t just hide in your closet or under your bed. Too bad they came in the form of Antonio Fernandez Carriedo- a Spaniard too sexy for his own good. / AU Vampire!AntonioxLovino” (on-going)

Speak “Lovino is shy. So is Antonio. Oh dear…” (completed)

You Belong With Me “Lovino wished for a lot of things. He wished he had a family or food or fitting clothes or friends but mainly just wished to belong. He doesn’t quite get what he wished for when he meets filthy rich Antonio, who just came from Spain and has settled in the same town as the little thief. Still…it’s a start.” (completed)

The Witch of Sicily “There were still whispers, rumors that the witch of Sicily remained in that forest, cursing all who would come near. It was a place many feared to tread, treated almost as sacred ground. Only fools would dare incite the wrath of the witch by entering that place. Only fools…and pirates.” (on-going)

We the Dreamers “New York City, 1940: Antonio is a recently arrived refugee from Spain, a scarred soldier with firm political convictions. For Lovino, everything is pointless and nothing ever lasts. The two of them live, love and dream desperately, as World War Two threatens to take it all away.” (completed)

Guide Me “After witnessing a startling event, Lovino Vargas finds himself stricken with blindness from a psychological misfortune called ‘conversion disorder’. Without anyone to guide him, he is placed with Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, a novice seeing-eye counselor, who will try to help him regain his sight and if not, teach him how to live in the new dark, lonely world ahead of him.” (completed)

Pirate’s Lullaby “It was the last thing in the world that Lovino Vargas wanted. To fall in love with Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. But when the pirate takes him aboard his ship, Lovino learns that maybe it’s not so bad to be a pirate.” (on-going)

Infamous “Lovino was a childhood actor, but once the show he was a part of got canceled he thought he was free and could leave all the acting and fame up to his brother Feliciano. However, when a 'follow up’ episode is decided upon ten years later, he ends up going back. There he sees a familiar, face; Antonio Carriedo, a singer with his eye on Lovi making normal impossible” (completed)

Guilty Bliss “Lovino has had a drug problem for years that he’s never been able to stop. With his debts getting out of hand, Lovino finds himself in situations that made him wish he had quit.” (completed)

Bottoms Up! “Follow Lovino on his weird and, well, at least quite interesting trip around Europe in order to find out some of the greatest secrets ever about himself, Europe, tomato-shaped alarm clocks and the past of his lovely, but complicated Spanish partner.” (completed)

A Trip To Spain Could Only End In “Lovino is a foreign exchange student in Spain. Things were going just brilliantly before he happened upon a Spanish restaurant in the heart of Madrid where he laid eyes on a certain Spanish Sex God…” (completed)

The Pirates Treasure “Pirate Captain Antonio wants one thing, and one thing only; a mermaid. Boy or girl doesn’t matter, as long as they are royalty and can make him jewels.He’s got his wish, but dealing with this prince is going to be much harder than he thought.” (completed)

Strike a Pose, Fake a Smile “Antonio loves the stage; Romano hates it. So when he’s “convinced” into coming to drama club, he’s not gonna like it. In fact, he’s going to say things that he’ll regret. And because he’s such a good actor, this time Antonio believes him. Uh-oh.” (completed)

A Helping Hand “Antonio owns a cafe low on business. One day a strange boy comes in, running from a group of men and covered in wounds. Antonio offers for him to stay and repay him with work. As payment, the boy Lovino begins to make new dishes to bring more people into the cafe. Who is this boy and why won’t he tell Antonio anything but his name and age?” (completed)

A Beautiful Story “Lovino Romano Vargas is a suicidal designer who is unhappy with his fate. One day, he chances to meet Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, who turns his life upside down.” (completed)

Careless “This year, Antonio had priorities: grades, girlfriend and the Football competition, securing college with his two best friends! But that was before the Vargas moved in with all their drama including kidnapping, threats, and football talents. If anyone asks Lovino, not getting killed would be a clear ecstatic success. He is just what Antonio needed, or not.” (on-going)

This is it for now but I might update this if I get any suggestions, if I remember any fanfic that I missed or if I find any new good ones. If you’re an author and want me to add your fanfic or if you just want to suggest me one don’t be afraid to PM me! (because this is a masterlist after all)

175 notes · View notes

sennextheassasinkingoflight · 4 years ago

Text

Sunsets

“Redemption, my Love” Chapter 7 is not up yet.... My apologies. Enjoy this oneshot instead! Cursed Tv 2020 Cross posted to Ao3 here Lancewain Rated T for suggestive themes. FLUFF, so much Fluff and Flirting Modern College AU: Roommates ) my deepest apologies to anyone who read this pre proof read. I have edited it now. :) )

Lancelot and Gawain have been roommates for almost four years. The problem is they both like one another and neither is able to admit it. Until one night, one very domestic night, the teasing and flirting comes to a head, and all because Lancelot took a nap in an unlikely location. @lorenzoxfrancesco I hope this tides you over for a bit friend. :) Enjoy. Inspired by this post.

Gawain came home to the small apartment he shared with Lancelot. They had met in the first week of classes their freshman year and had shared several of their general courses since then, until this semester. For the last three years they have shared their living space, study habits, eating habits, and everyday life. They had cohabited the same space, with minimal disturbances despite being strangers when they moved in together. Certainly, they fought on occasion but it was never about anything to major, well except that one time, but they had sorted it rather quickly. Neither truly capable of staying angry at the other. It had been over a boy. More specifically about the lack of notice regarding a boy coming home with Gawain on game night, for purposes other than games.

Today Gawain is running a little bit later than normal. It isn’t a big deal, it is Lancelot’s night to cook, so if the man was hungry he would have cooked and left him some. Besides, not only had his last class gone long, but he had decided to pick up some of the groceries he knew they needed. Unlocking the door he steps into warm air and a dimly lit room. Toeing off his shoes he pads into the common space towards the kitchen, casually avoiding Lancelots work space and easel. The kitchen is empty, and the space does not smell of food. Lancelot had not cooked then. A quick glance at the stove clock tells him that it isn’t actually nearly as late as he believed it was. The winter weather was throwing off his internal clock again. It was just past sundown, and it felt much later than half past four in the evening. Setting the groceries on the counter he acknowledged none of them were perishable and could wait to be put away.

The absence of Lancelot is acute and he decides to check his room. It is unusual, especially on his night to cook, for him to be absent. He leaves the small kitchen and heads down the hall towards the rooms, and notes that his door is slightly ajar. He can’t remember if he left it that way or not, but it doesn’t particularly matter, if Lancelot had needed something he would have had the freedom to retrieve it. It was something that they had spoken about when they created their boundaries initially and adjusted them as they grew in their relationship. He ignores it and walks to the end of the hall and knocks gently on Lancelot's door. When he gets no answer he cautiously opens it, to find an empty room. Shrugging he returns to the kitchen and begins to put away the groceries from before. Then he will shower and make something for himself. It’s possible too, that Lancelot went out for ingredients or some such necessity.

When he opens his door what he sees causes him to stop short. The streetlight is casting the faintest orange glow through his window and onto his bed. And there, curled on his side is Lance in the fetal position, wearing his oversized sweater and purple skull covered socks, peacefully asleep. He smiles, it is the most adorable thing he has seen in a very long time. Lancelot's hair is down and unkept sprawling across his face and onto the blankets beneath him. Slowly he steps into the dark room, careful not to disturb his roommate. Hypercautiously he sits on the edge of the bed and thoughtfully brushes stray hair from Lancelot's face. He looks undisturbed and calm like this. Mouth slightly agape as he breathes in and out in a steady rhythm. The worry lines that come with final exams erased from his features under the sweet caress of sleep. His muscles relaxed and pliant as he shifts subtly closer to Gawain’s ghosting touch. He doesn’t know how long he sits there watching Lancelot, but he knows it is far longer than a friend perhaps should. Of course that comes as no surprise to him. He wishes they were more than friends, but neither had asked, and perhaps it was safer to remain in this domestic life they had than to fall into something labeled and full of expectations and preconceived notions.

Finally, he rises and moves towards his dresser for a change of clothing, he has no idea how much time has gone by, only that he still needs to shower and eat something before he makes another decision. Casting a final gaze on his sleeping friend he leaves the room, door slightly ajar and showers. He loses track of time again and finds himself dwelling on what it would be like to have Lance in his bed regularly. To be able to view him in such peace anytime he wanted, and not just through a snatched moment, that the other is unaware of. When he finally leaves the bathroom dressed in a pair of surprisingly comfortable leggings, (He had thought they would be and he was correct) he scrubs at his head hair with a towel and drapes it around his shoulders to catch any remnants of dripping water. Stepping into the hall he shivers a touch, Lancelot likes to keep the apartment a touch on the chilly side, which isn’t an issue at all, except for right after he gets out of a near scalding hot shower.

The hall light is on, and it hadn’t been, which means Lancelot must be awake now. He is determined not to say anything. There isn’t a point in bringing it up is there? Lancelot would likely just get embarrassed and go hide in his room, or in the shadowy depths of his comfy clothes, and impossibly large hood. He heads in the direction of the kitchen regardless, he hasn’t spoken to Lancelot in ages, or at least it feels like and whatever it is he has decided to cook tonight smells delicious. Garlic bread, his brain supplies, which means spaghetti. Simple, easy, a good “sorry I fell asleep and now I'm panicking to make something because I bet you're starving and it was my day to cook” food. Not that Gawain would have minded taking it on. Lancelot had been busy this week, finishing multiple art projects, writing a speech on his favorite era of art history, and studying for his theology exam. Infact, he was half tempted to tell the man to go lay back down and let him take over, but he would need a shirt for that and he was already in the dining room.

“Spaghetti with your homemade Garlic butter?” He asks innocently. Lancelot glances up at him, the barest flick of his eyes and then back at what he is doing, preparing meatballs. And there it is. Lancelot looks back up, meets his eyes and then casually takes in the entire sight of him. Face flushing just a bit, but it could be the steam from the noodle water. He watches the bob of his throat as he swallows. He assumes the other is attempting to formulate a thought but short circuiting, so he takes the moment to study bare arms and a pale throat, and the way messy black curls cling to the side of his face, cascading loose from a hastily thrown up bun. Lancelot has ditched his sweatshirt to cook and is wearing only a tank top, the tattoo consisting of swirls and runes he doesn’t understand standing out brilliantly on his shoulder and cascading to his elbow. It wasn’t often he got to see this. It was a work of art, part of Lancelot's heritage and closely guarded. It was nearly impossible to look away as his eyes followed each swoop and dive, broad stroke and fine line as they moved in turn with the muscles beneath.

"Those are not basketball shorts." Grits out his roommate, eyes still staring below his navel. He has dropped the meatball he was making and turned slightly to take Gawain in better. Grinning he laughs,

“They certainly are not. Thought I would change it up tonight. Korin said they were comfortable so I thought ‘what the hell, I’ll give it a shot.’” Lancelot finally looks up at him and licks his lip.

“ Are they?” Oh, he sounds like he’s choking on air. Lancelot towels his hands and takes a long drink from his water bottle.

“So far, Yes. Do you want help?”

“With?” Lancelot looks lost in the kitchen, which is really unfortunate it is one of his areas of magnificents. He watches as he casts his eyes anywhere but at Gawain.

“The balls.”

“The - Uh, no I uh, I’m good. Thanks.” The paler man says swallowing and pointedly starting the blender to puree the tomatoes into a sauce, cheeks unmistakably flushed now. When the noise ceases he watches as the liquid is poured into a saucepan and a mixture of spices is added along with roasted garlic and sautéed onion, stirred aggressively and left to heat. He chuckles when Lancelot stills as he walks to the fridge and grabs the carton of milk. Leaning against the counter he watches as Lance finishes preparing the meatballs and lets his eyes linger as he bends to put them in the oven. Then at his hands as he strains the noodles. He takes a long draw of milk straight from the carton and Lancelot turns to him, raises an eyebrow as they make eye contact and abruptly turns away instead of chewing him out like normal. Smirking to himself he wonders how far he can push Lancleot tonight without giving him a heart attack. He knows the attraction is mutual, unspoken but unmistakable.

“Did you have a good nap.” The knife comes to a halt against the cutting board. Lancelot grips the carrot hard enough to turn his knuckles white and pointedly stirs the sauce with his other hand before picking up the knife and turning the rest of the carrot into bits for the salad.

“Yes.” The mumble is almost lost among the clicking of the knife against the board. Gawain reaches for a slice of the now cooled Garlic bread, from his spot out of the way, and receives a well aimed smack to the knuckles with the flat of the blade. He locks eyes with Lancelot who is glaring.

“Do not ruin your appetite.” Lancelot hisses, eyes fierce.

“I don’t think that's possible where you're involved.” He sets the milk down and steps into Lancelot's space, and picks up the piece of bread he had intended to steal. Neither of them move.

“How come you napped in my room. I don’t mind. Not even a little, but I am curious.” He takes a bite of the bread and loses his train of thought, “oh god, can Lancelot cook” he had made the bread earlier in the week. Lancelot looks away from him and that stings a little but mostly it’s cute, the way the pink has not receded at all but is progressively turning redder and spreading to his ears and onto his neck. They are close enough to touch if Lance took a step forward. Instead he takes two steps back and Gawain reciprocates, taking another long gulp of milk from the jug as Lancelot checks the meatballs. The oven is set to broil so they shouldn’t take much longer. He can almost see the cogs turning as he carries the salad and plate of warm bread to the table. Then the Pasta, still in the pot with a large fork, and the sauce in its pan with a ladle.

“I was watching the sunset. I can’t see it from my room.” Lancelot finally answers as he retrieves the meatballs from the oven and places them in a bowl to be taken to the table. Gawain stares at him for a moment,

“And you were comfortable enough to fall asleep?”

“Mmm... I got lost in thought.”

“What were you thinking?” Lancelot eyes him a moment then walks over and leans into his space, opening the cupboard to his right and removing two plates.

“Many things. Be a dear and bring the salad dressing and Parmesan cheese.” He watches as Lancelot turns and all but saunters to the dining table with the bowl of meatballs, two plates and their silverware. Blinking he kicks himself for standing there dumbly while Lancelot waits at the table. He puts the milk away and does as he was asked. When he finally joins him at the table he folds the towel over the back of the chair and they eat in silence, but god’s he’s going to die if he keeps catching the dark haired man looking at him like that.

“What are you thinking now?” He manages around a bite of pasta.

“That I felt safe.”

“I don’t think I am following Lance.” Setting his fork down he makes purposeful eye contact. Seriousness seeping into what had been a very flirtatious evening.

“I feel asleep in your bed, because I felt safe.” Lancelot looks away from him, and takes a drink of his water. He hadn’t expected that. What is he supposed to say? Slowly he takes another bite of his food, he suddenly feels so uncertain. Finally, for lack of anything better to say,

“I’m glad,” he whispers and avoids making eye contact.

“I’ve made you uncomfortable, haven’t I Gawain?” Asks the man beside him, voice small and fragile in his ears.

“Not uncomfortable, thoughtful. I don’t know what the proper response to that is.” He answers honestly and meets blue eyes.

“I don’t know either. But I wanted you to know that anyways.” Lancelot smiles softly and returns his focus to his food.

They lapse back into silence as they finish their meal and clean up in synchronized routine. When the food has been put away, the counters wiped up and the dishes done, all in companionable silence, Gawain feels the need to speak again.

“If my teasing went too far earlier, I apologize.” He shrugs and picks up the damp towel to be put away properly. Lancelot snuggles back into the security of his oversized sweatshirt and turns to look at him.

“You didn’t. I, I thought it was sweet. I would have spoken up. But, Gawain,” he stands still as the other approaches him, “ Were you teasing me, or flirting with me?” He feels the flush creep up his chest and onto his face, Lancelot is suddenly very close and his eyes are so very blue and earnest. On instinct he reaches up and brushes curls behind his ears, knuckles barely dragging across the others cheekbones in the process, and he leans into it.

“Flirting, I was definitely flirting and teasing. Both. It was both.”

“Good,” Lancelot whispers, catching his hand, he lets it still and does not pull away as plump lips turn towards it and kiss his wrist. “Watch the sunset with me tomorrow:”

He nods dumbly. He will happily watch the sunset with Lancelot whenever, wherever, and however, the other man asks him to.

#Cursed TV 2020 #Fanfiction #Lancewain #Lancelot #The Weeping Monk #Gawain #The Green Knight #Roomates #College AU #domesticity #Sunsets #Fluff #So much Fluff #Flirting #So much Flirting #moments of seriousness #Rated T for suggestive themes

8 notes · View notes

gustafsnightangel · 4 years ago

Text

Shattered Lives Ch 1

Sildie was tired, hot, overworked, and Lily was feeling much the same. Rubbing her eyes with her tiny fist, cradled against Sildie’s shoulder, she sobbed in a way all babies do when they are past the point of no return.

“Hang on Lily bear we’re almost there.” She soothed.

The twins half carried half dragged shopping bags into the apartment, followed by Brendan the eldest of the four kids. As Sildie was stepping into the apartment the bottom of a shopping bag she was carrying blew open and the only glass container of pasta sauce in that bag shattered on the wood floor. It went everywhere. Floor, door, her shoes, her suit pants though only slightly.

Gustaf saw it happen as he came up the last few steps to his apartment. Saw her look to the ceiling and sigh out in frustration, her jaw twitch as she reigned it in, the woman was one moment away from losing her shit.

He put his key in the door, opened it, tossed his bag inside, closed the door again, and walked over to give her a hand, picking up the stray oranges as he went. Now was a good a time as any to meet his next door neighbor.

“Of course.” She muttered to the ceiling.

“Leave it Brendan. I’ll get it in a moment.” Her voice was quiet and Gustaf could tell she had reached her limit of bullshit for one day.

“Boys, shopping on the counter please then bedroom for quiet time and homework.” The twins did as she asked and disappeared like smoke on the wind.

“Brendan, leave it, I’ll get it later I don’t want you getting glass in your fingers. Go on now, homework.” She adjusted the bags in her arms and wished the kids would just get in the fucking door so she wouldn’t drop the baby and the groceries. Mainly the baby she had screaming in her arms.

“I found a few of your escapees.” A soft, deep male voice said from beside her as she was about to step inside.

“I’m sorry what?” She mumbled absently as her brain had well and truly checked out for a brief moment. Lily screamed that high pitched wail that shattered eardrums and she winced. Teetering on ice pick heels, her arms overfilled with a screaming baby and groceries, she just wanted to get through the fucking door. Was it too much to ask?

She turned to be eye level with her next door neighbor holding a few oranges that had rolled down the hall. She felt the breath go out of her in a whoosh as if his presence had physically punched her in the gut. Damn it he was more handsome and tall up close she thought.

“Oh, hi.” He’d startled her and she was trying to force breath into her lungs quietly as her chest heaved.

“Hi.” A soft friendly smile broke across his face. “Sorry I didn’t mean to startle you. Want some help?” He asked pointing to the bags straining on her arms.

“Um, sure ok.” Not really knowing what to say at the help being offered.

Lily fussed and sobbed some more, the poor kid was beyond it.

His fingers brushed her hand as he took the shopping bags from her. That familiar jolt of energy coursing through him as skin met skin. Did she feel it too he wondered? He watched her switch the baby to the other hip and relieved her of the remaining bags.

“Counter?” He asked. That voice was so smooth she thought as those long legs stepped over the mess on the floor. She could listen to him for hours.

“Yes, Please. Sorry I have to get this one changed and down before she implodes. We’re already half way there.” She said quickly. Snapping out of it she went to move past him but he blocked her path.

“Sure. Let me help.” He gently took hold of her elbow steadying her around the mess at her front door.

She almost moaned as his hand cupped her elbow to steady her. It had been almost a year since a man had touched her other than a business handshake. Partly due to the current situation of being a single parent with four kids. They saw the kids or she told them about the kids which was kind of a prerequisite to dating and the whole being honest thing, and that was it, gone like the wind. Instantly unfuckable, not worth the effort. Four kids killed your social and sex life. Period.

She made her way into her bedroom and changed Lily. Her mind was racing at his touch, those hands and that voice. Seductive and gentle, and her imagination was running away with her.

All in her overactive, undersexed imagination, there was no way someone like him was interested in her especially with the kids. She needed to get a grip. She half expected him to be gone when she walked out. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Rocking and soothing a now clean baby, Lily was out cold a few moments later with a few more lingering sobs.

“I’m so sorry.” She walked to the kitchen, heels clicking on the hardwood. Grabbing the paper towel to go clean up she noticed it was already done.

She stopped suddenly and looked a little dumbfounded at him, paper towel scrunched in her hand. “You cleaned it up?” She said a little shocked. “You didn’t have to do that, but thank you.”

He shrugged. “You seem to have enough on your plate today.” His smile was slight but it made her belly tighten.

“Thank you.” Her voice was still shocked, no one had offered to help with something like this before. She’d forgotten how the people were at home. She’d been away for too long. Nice people to be found but not like him, not like home.

“Would you like some tea?” It was the least she could do for a stranger that had just cleaned her floor. That and it would keep her hands busy, he made her nervous but she didn’t want to kick him out just yet.

“I would love to but I was on my way out to dinner.” He glanced at her as her eyes found his briefly. Pale ice blue and captivating.

“Oh of course, I’m so sorry. Am I going to make you late now, I’m so sorry?” She apologized and he decided he liked seeing her a little rattled.

“Rain check? And if I’m late, I’m late.” Would she be willing to have him here without the pretense of dropped fruit he wondered?

“Um sure.” It’s just tea you idiot she berated herself. Just tea with your neighbor, nothing erotic about that. She took a steadying breath.

“Where are my manners. Sorry it’s been a day. I’m Sildie.” She held out a hand that wasn’t as steady as she’d like it to be. Her brain had finally caught up with the current situation and was able to form a coherent sentence.

“Gustaf. It’s nice to finally meet you.” He smiled at her and shook her hand, and she could tell he was a little shy under it all as well.

“You too. I’ve been meaning to come and say hello but.” She jerked her thumb over to where the boys rooms were. “If they ever get too loud please come over and yell at them.”

“I barely hear the baby cry. It’s no problem. Anyway I have to run.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets to stop him from touching her. She skirted the counter to walk him out and he noticed she was nervously wringing her hands as they stood on her threshold.

“Thank you again for cleaning my floor.” She dared to look in his eyes. Soulful dusty blue looked back and nearly stole her breath. “Let me know when you want to get together for tea.”

“I will and no problem with the floor. Glad I could help.” He winked at her and went to his apartment grinning. Those eyes he thought, he had just drowned in them.

She lingered a second on the threshold and watched him walk away still half stunned with the wink. The man was tall, lanky but built, cute ass, and those eyes she thought. Those were eyes she could get lost in and happily wake up to in the morning. She stepped in and closed the door before it got awkward.

“Good lord.” She sighed out as she got herself together, taking solace of the coolness of the door at her forehead.

She knew who he was just after they moved in. She wasn’t one to fan girl and harass the poor guy which is one of the reasons she hadn’t said hello to him sooner. The man didn’t need that shit at home either. He was entitled to his privacy, something she respected.

He wasn’t the typical “Hollywood gorgeous” but she found him attractive in a non buff, non sleek, non polished kind of way, which she preferred. He was unique and sweet and real. Sweet to clean her floor for her. Real to want to have tea with her.

She dreamed of him that night. She let her fantasies and imagination run wild. Realistically there wasn’t a chance in hell with a man like that, let alone with four kids in tow.

She couldn’t deny it, to herself anyway, she wanted his hands on her and she was well overdue to be fucked senseless she thought irritably. She was nearly a pool of goo at his feet at his touch alone.

He made it to dinner with his brothers a little late but nothing to upset Sildie with. He had one hot red head on his mind. He would pursue her, but he would need to tread carefully.

With kids in the mix he would have to think of them as well. If he wanted their mother, he’d need to want them too. Then of course getting the kids to like and accept him was another story. The family was a package deal and he had no doubt that if he took it on it would be that and nothing less. He had to be ok with that, something else he’d think on.

#gustaf skarsgard #all the feels #Shattered Lives Ch 1

15 notes · View notes

sad-af1121 · 5 years ago

Text

It’s You: Part 2

Summary: In which your date doesn’t go well and you meet a stranger who makes you forget all about it with his witty charm. But no numbers or names are exchanged between you two, leaving you both hopeless yet love crazed, never to find one another. Or so you think. | Modern AU | Requested by Anon | Pairings: Bucky Barnes x CurlyHaired! Reader Word Count: 2.7k Warnings: Full-on fluff & comedyyyy, bickering between sam and bucky, language

A/N: I’m trying to get this story done before August ends and I’m just so happy I’m not experiencing writers' block *crosses fingers* And thank you so much for the incredible feedback from the first part you guys, it’s truly amazing! | Thanking @isaxhorror for giving this a look through! Feedback is welcomed 💜

PART 1

Focused on work, Bucky gnawed the end of his pen, trying to see where he may have messed up his calculations for a new design of technology that Stark Industries hired him to work on. Being an engineer wasn’t Bucky’s golden choice when it came to a career but he was pretty damn good at it. However, as much as he was a hard, talented worker, he always got too buried in once he devoted all his attention to it.

“Buck, it’s almost 5. You can’t wear your work clothes to that date,” Steve breathed, sitting on his desk as the brunette continued to look down at his paper.

“'N why not? I always look good when I come to work,” he stated, leaning back in his chair and twiddling the pen between his fingers now.

Deeply sighing with annoyance, Steve crossed his arms over his chest, giving Bucky a stern look, “For the love of God, please go home and change into something decent. You’ve got grape jelly stains on your shirt. AND you smell of coffee and sweat.”

Bucky pursed his lips and shook his head. Steve did have a point but Bucky couldn’t care less. He opened his drawer and pulled out a Tide pen and Axe spray, two solutions to two problems Steve brought forth. After being stood up, Bucky didn’t want to continue the dating scene until after he felt the need to. As of right now, he wants to get his design done and manufactured before the year ended and having fewer distractions seemed necessary.

“You’re fucking kiddin’ me right?” Steve gritted through his teeth, rolling his head back, “So what you got stood up! Big. Fucking. Whoop. Stop acting like a child. Clint told me his roommate is a really nice girl and with a great personality! Just give it a chance, please? Put yourself in her shoes; would you want a half-ass date?”

The more Bucky thought about it, the more he realized Steve was right. It wasn’t fair and there was no way in hell he was going to ditch the date because being on the receiving end wasn’t fun. If Bucky was being honest, his retaliation and cold demeanor were all because he couldn’t get you out of his mind since last night. To think about someone else when you’re in the presence of another seemed cruel and it toyed with Bucky to the point that he just wished you’d get out from his thoughts. It pained him for wishing that but in a world this big, how was he going to find you; a needle in a haystack.

Looking up at his friend, Bucky slowly sat up, clearing his throat, “Fine, I’ll be the best version of myself I can be.”

A victory smile graced Steve’s face as he placed his hand in front of Bucky, the two high-fiving each other, “Atta boy! And before I forget, her name is Y/N.”

Bucky nodded in acknowledgment.

“What I miss?” Sam walked into Bucky's cubicle with a smile, chewing on his food that he held in a Tupperware.

“Is that my fucking food, Wilson?” Bucky growled, clenching his left fist that sat perfectly on his desk, his brows deepened with anger as he saw the ‘Property of Barnes’ written in Sharpie.

“Mhmm, sure is. I figured since you’re going out for dinner, you wouldn’t mind.” He smiled smugly, taking another bite of the chicken linguine pasta with alfredo sauce; one of Bucky’s favorite meals.

The pen in Bucky's hand snapped in two as his anger progressed. “I hope you choke on it.”

***

The soft panic that resided deep inside your chest kept coming and going, like a wave crashing on the shore. It wasn’t unusual, you were used to having this feeling whenever you were embarking on something new, something that you’ve never come across before. Online dating apps made things easier because you had a face to put with their descriptions and it allowed you to talk to them before setting anything up. But one thing you were good at was keeping your cool when things didn’t seem as bad as your mind had pictured it.

Adjusting the sleeves to your off the shoulder striped blouse, you admired the way your outfit sculpted your body as you gazed into the full-length mirror. You wore black mid-rise jeans with your blouse tucked inside, extenuating your figure a bit more. Loose curls that you were accustomed to wearing down were now stuffed tightly into a bun that rested on the crown of your head, a few loose strands shaping your face. You kept your make-up light and soft which balanced off nicely with a bold berry pink lip and highlight.

While you were lost in thought, Nat entered your room, softly knocking on the door frame in hopes to pull you out from wherever it was you seemed to go when you zoned out. “Damn, you look good.”

Your eyes shifted from your reflection in the mirror to Natasha’s, a smile blossoming upon your lips. “Thanks, I know I do,” you playfully stated, flipping your imaginative hair then turned to face her.

“Is Clint here yet?” She asked.

“He said he'd be here in 5 minutes but that was 10 minutes ago.” You breathed out with a smirk, walking to your closet. “I’ve got an hour before I have to meet up with the guy anyway. I hope he isn’t shitty like the one I had last night.”

“Hmm, that’s right,” she paused with a lop-sided grin. “You’d prefer that so your ‘knight and shining armor’ can save you like he did last night, huh?”

You dropped your shoulders and glared at Natasha, frustration creeping up your throat. “It’s like you want me to kick your ass.”

Natasha snorted with a laugh, “I’d like to see you try.” Her amusement didn’t deflate after you gave her a scowled look, only prompting her to laugh some more.

“Fine, fine! Suppose you’re not interested in the date, do you want me to call and pretend our apartment is flooding or something?”

Thinking, you bit your lip, trying to decipher if that was necessary or not. Then again, you didn’t want your time wasted if you really weren’t all that interested and didn’t see the date progressing to another. “That doesn’t sound like a bad plan. Kinda like an SOS?”

“Exactly!” The red-head beamed, shifting on your bed. “Just shoot me a text and I’ll call. But if you can’t pick up after my second call, I’m coming down there then. Deal?”

“Deal!” You laughed, excited that you had a backup plan just in case. You weren’t sure if you were looking more forward to Nat’s mission to save you or the date in itself, hoping you weren’t being overdramatic.

As your waves of laughter died down, the notification to your phone goes off with Clint’s text appearing across your screen. “I think Clint’s outside,” you wiggled your phone in the air and grabbed your bag before blowing Natasha a kiss goodbye. “See you soon!”

***

A whistle withdrew from Bucky's mouth as he observed the restaurant before him. It was a two-story turn-of-the-century townhouse with a lavish old-wealth charm. The night sky was vacant of any clouds, painting the perfect atmosphere for the event. He was glad Steve sent him home to change out from his basic work clothes to something more compatible with where he’d meet his date.

His hair was brushed back into a neat bun that sat at the base of his neck. The brown blazer he wore fit nicely upon his broad shoulders, the contrast between the warm brown and black t-shirt he wore underneath was a nice combination. His black pants were pressed and sharp without a wrinkle in sight and his black shoes were shined to perfection, enough for him to see his own reflection. The musky scent of his cologne followed as Bucky walked into the establishment, smiling at the man by the front desk who then guided him through the wave of diners.

Seated by the long bay windows, Bucky looked around the room, gazing at the pendant lights that were scattered across. He basked in the architectural beauty, the white walls and furniture creating an illusion of a space so large, that you could fit more than a crowd. The view of the city streets through the windows was the cherry on top. It brought a sort of relaxation to Bucky that he couldn’t quite explain but could get lost in the sea of life.

Sighing with anxiety in his seat, Bucky peered at his watch, reading 5:35 p.m. on the dot. Just another 25 minutes before his date would show up and god knows what was going to happen. He could hope for the best and pray this date doesn’t stand him up or else Bucky was making a date with the bar and its' drinks.

Bzzzt Bzzzt! Bzzzt Bzzzt!

Bucky reacted quickly to the sound of his phone going off in his pocket before grabbing the device out and accepting the call, groaning in silence. “What do you want, Wilson?”

“Did you make it to your destination?”

“Yes! Now leave me alone. She could be here any minute now and I don’t want to be on the phone with you when she does. It doesn’t look good.” Bucky whispered harshly, scanning the room to see if anyone was making their way to the table.

Sam furrowed his brows, “Boy, shut up. I just called to check up on you. Had to make sure you weren’t fucking things up. Now, remember to be nice and smile, okay? She doesn’t wanna see a grumpy cat.” He teased, practically hearing the anger on Bucky’s face.

“At least I can smile without having my teeth look like a picket fence,” Bucky snickered, covering his mouth with his hand from releasing a heartfelt chuckle as Sam let out a chain of curses. Looking around the room once again, Bucky locked eyes with a woman whose face was painted with an expression of disgust and concern. But Bucky doesn’t let that get to him, flashing the couple a sweet smile before looking away.

“Alright alright, I’ve gotta go. Bye.”

A few more minutes passed by and Bucky glanced at his wristwatch again, absentmindedly bouncing his leg with anticipation. As the minutes click away, Bucky's chest weighed heavy, making it harder to breathe properly. He was so nervous that he had to pee really bad but didn’t want to get up from the table. There was a chance you could be coming at any second and he refused to miss that.

But when the waiter comes by to refill his glass of water, the pressure in his abdomen worsened and Bucky had enough. Rising from his seat, he decided to make his way to the gentlemen’s room, knowing he had a few minutes to spare. He didn’t want to stay in discomfort the entirety of the date nor pee himself, the pain a constant reminder of how awkward it was. But before he went, Bucky stopped by the host at the front desk.

“Hey, so I’m stepping into the restroom and if my date arrives, could you possibly notify her and seat her too? I won’t be too long.” He swallowed, earning a nod of approval then rushing towards the men's room.

~ 5 minutes later ~

With a smile painted across your features, you stepped through the doors of the restaurant, looking around the place to capture the sense of atmosphere and energy. You were glad to spot the bar, your tongue craving for something bitter yet sweet to relax your muscles and nerves. Just a little bit of alcohol in your system brought you down from anxiety and it would help in a situation like this. You were jittery and anxious, to say the least, a million thoughts running across your mind. All of what and how the date would turn out; for the best or possibly the worst.

As you’re about to be helped by the host, Bucky treads out from the restroom, peeking over towards his table to see if his date had arrived or not and she hadn’t. Something inside him was relieved but also sad because he wanted to get this night over and done with.

Unable to break his gaze from his table, Bucky hadn’t noticed you were walking in the same direction as he was. Without breaking his stride, he ran into your chest, causing both of you to lose your balance. However, if it wasn’t for Bucky’s swift like movements, he wouldn’t have saved you from falling onto your ass as he firmly gripped your arms and helped you ground your feet onto the surface.

People watched and did nothing, going about their business.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” Bucky spluttered, helping you stand up properly as a wave of utter embarrassment and mortification washed over him.

“No no, I'm sorry. I should've paid close attention,” you said, letting go of Bucky and adjusting the strap of your purse over your shoulder. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, I’m fine. What ab-” Bucky paused, his eyes studying your face once he saw who he had collided into. They widened in shock. A happy shock. His stomach felt heavy with familiarity, lips twitching into a cheeky grin. Words didn’t fall out from his mouth, he just stood there like a love-struck puppy, drenched in bewilderment.

When you don’t hear the man finish his sentence, your brows knit together in confusion, prompting you to look up and see his reasoning. And as you do, you stiffen momentarily before your mind registers what was going on.

“Oh my god,” you breathed with a smile slowly building across your face, heart fluttering with every beat.

It was your knight and shining armor.

“It’s you!” you both marveled in unison, laughing that you said the same thing. It was unbelievable, the realization hitting both of you hard and fast.

“What are you doing here? I mean,” you chuckled breathlessly, scrunching your face at your question, “How is it possible to see you here? It’s not like the city is that small.”

“Trust me, I’m as surprised as you are,” Bucky grinned, his jaw dropping with amusement, but it immediately faints away, remembering his reason for being here tonight.

“I, uh, have a date,” he half-heartedly smiled and ducked his head, shoving his hands in his pockets, the twinkle in his blue orbs losing its shine.

“Oh,” you pouted but forced a smile to hide the disappointment, “Me too. I’m supposed to meet him now but… ,” you chuckled, trailing your words as your gaze traveled across various tables.

Bucky remained quiet, scanning the room himself because the tension between you two increased. Becoming awkward and frustrating.

“I got worried for a sec.” He admitted, breaking the silence.

You turned your attention back on him, eyes raking over his facial features. “And why is that?”

He cocked his head, “I thought it was the same guy from last night.” Bucky smirked, recalling the incident.

“Oh god no! Why would I after his behavior,” you laughed, placing your hands on your chest. Lips urged to smile hard but you bit it from doing so, feeling your cheeks warm up in the presence of Bucky. You both stared at each other with soft eyes, silence casting its blanket over you two again but a good kind.

The host cleared his throat, pursing his lips with a grin as his eyes darted between you and Bucky. Realizing what time it was, you snapped back to the depressing depths of reality. “Well, I don’t want to keep your date waiting.”

“Neither do I,” Bucky swallowed, turning his attention to the host.

“Please, would you both come with me and I’ll escort you to your table,” he informed, earning confused looks from you and Bucky.

Assuming the host would guide both of you to your appropriate tables, you quietly follow the gentleman before sensing something was way off. Hesitantly, you peered over at Bucky who had the same look as you did, a mixture of fear and uncertainty.

As the distance to the table grew closer and closer, it clicked in your brains.

“James?”

“Y/N?”

PART 3

___________

Permanent tags will be added to reblogs. If you’d like to be added, pls send an ask.

351 notes · View notes

justfangirlthings2003 · 4 years ago

Text

I Loved And I Loved And I - Hanahaki AU

WARNINGS: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

This is probably the saddest thing I’ve ever written sooo sorry.

AO3 link here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24196216

NOTES:

So Hanahaki is a very uncommon disease. Like, it was about normal in the past but it died out in the nineteenth/twentieth century. However, it is possible to get but is very very highly unlikely (like 0.00001% of the population have it) so doctors have been taught how to perform the surgery. It is still a very well-known disease.

For the sake of the plot, you can only have the surgery if you give your full consent (because Bruce seems like the type of person to have the surgery done on his son even if they don’t want it - he’ll do whatever it takes to keep them alive)

I’ve messed up the timelines a lot just so that I can have the Batboys being good bros (but it is an AU fanfic and like Thawne says in the Flash TV Series: The Timeline is malleable)

Also the Invasion happened but Wally survived because I said so.

When Wally West entered Dick Grayson’s life, he did so in a whirlwind of colour. Dick remembered it clear as day. He was standing around in the Watchtower, twitching in his place. Bruce told him beforehand that he would be meeting Kid Flash that night and as excited as he was that he was going to be meeting a potential new friend, he was filled with anxiety. The kids at school, the rich people that attended Bruce’s galas and the people at the Gotham City Juvenile Delinquent Centre all hated him - called him names like “Gypsy boy” and “Circus Freak” because of his Romani background, tanned complexion and thick accent - so why would someone with literal superpowers like him? Then it happened: the room was filled with reds and golds and oranges - lighting up like a blazing inferno - and when the colours died down, all he could see was a red haired ten year old wearing gold and scarlet and a bright grin. When their eyes met, Dick knew that Kid Flash was going to be special.

_____

Dick was fourteen years old when he realised it. He was lying on his bed, hair mussed and wearing his favourite elephant print pyjamas with mismatched canary yellow and crimson socks, telling his parents about his day. It became kind of a ritual for him to either sit cross-legged in front of the Flying Graysons poster that was pressed protectively by a bulletproof sheet of glass, clutching Zitka against his chest, or to just lay on his Egyptian cotton sheet, just staring at the ceiling as he recounted his day. He was at the part where he and Wally were sitting on a park bench, eating ice cream when he was suddenly struck by an image of his best friend smiling at him with windswept hair. How the late afternoon sun caught on the edges of his ginger hair, embroidering it with gold. How his emerald eyes, framed by amber lashes, suddenly looked much more captivating, more beautiful, and Dick wanted their green gaze on him at all times. He was suddenly struck by the urge to grab Wally’s cheeks, to trace the pads of his thumbs along his galaxy of freckles and kiss him until -

Wait, what?

Did he seriously think about Wally like that? About kissing him? Wallace Rudolph West - his best friend - the guy that ran into a wall the first time they met, the guy who makes terrible science puns and flirts with anyone that moves and thinks nine times out of ten with his stomach than his head and is smart and loyal and funny and kind and the most amazing person Dick has ever met.

Uh oh. He’s in trouble.

_____

The trouble with falling in love with your best friend is knowing that nothing would change but everything will. If they started dating, they would still have movie nights, eat terrible junk food and spend hours on end playing video games but if Dick confessed and Wally didn’t reciprocate then he ruins one of the best relationships he’s ever had just because of a few hormones. And - oh God - what if Wally feels guilty? What if Wally thought that he was leading Dick on, making him think that he liked him like that? What if he started beating himself up for breaking Dick’s heart?

No.

Dick would just have to stay silent. To just hope that his attraction with his (absolutely amazing in every way) best friend was just a silly little teenage crush and will just go away in time. After all, Batman says that the mission comes first.

___

“Hey, Dick.”

“Yeah, Wally.”

“We’re gonna be bestest friends forever and ever, right.”

“‘Course we are. Why wouldn’t we be?”

“D’ya pinky promise?”

“What’s a pinky promise?”

“It’s what the kids do at school. It’s when you put your pinky fingers together and make a promise and you must never ever break it.”

“Why? Do you die if you do?”

“No, I don’t think so. But it’s just really really bad if you do. Like stepping on a puppy’s tail bad. So do ya wanna do it.”

“‘Course I do.”

“To being bros forever.”

Dick smiled at the ten year old in front of him as he interlocked their pinkies, “Bros forever.”

___

“Yo, Dick, I need your help,” Wally said to him after the Team had completed a mission in New York where this generic mad scientist villain was using robots to terrorize the city and commit crimes. Wally managed to nab a damaged drone as a souvenir and now Dick was in the process of reassembling it and turning it into a robot that shoots out chocolate sauce. Wally was adorably confused when he looked over the acrobat’s plans but Dick told him that it was going to be asterous.

There’s another thing about falling in love with your best friend: you can’t exactly escape them. You spend time with them everyday which makes you notice things: like how their eyes crinkle at the sides when they smile, how their voice always goes up around three octaves when they’re embarrassed, how they always bite their bottom lip when they’re nervous. Dick always noticed these things about everyone, Bruce had him doing character profiles since he first started training as Robin (no, seriously. The day he met the League, he was told to give a full analysis of their characters, as well as possible strengths and weaknesses and ways to take them down, the moment he returned home. He was eight) so that he could always find out everything he needed to know about a person within ten seconds, but earlier he just noticed them - now he noticed them and it made him feel all kinds of butterflies in his stomach.

“Names, KF,” Dick chided without looking up from where he was turning a screw, regardless of the fact that they were in his room that was encased with 20 cm of lead so no one with super-hearing could figure out their identities.

“Oops, sorry, Rob. Anyway, I need your help.”

“Shoot.”

“I wanna ask out Artemis.”

Dick almost dropped his screwdriver. He looked at his best friend, who was standing by the door of his room. That red hue that covered his cheeks was so adorable that Dick barely resisted the urge of getting up and kissing the daylights out of him. But wait, no. Artemis. Right, Wally wants to ask out Artemis, not him. Honestly, he could see it. They were always trading insults with no real heat. He guessed all of that teasing was unresolved romantic attraction, a courting ritual for superheroes - Catwoman has always had a bantering relationship with Batman.

“Okay, why are you here then?”

“I don’t really know how to ask out girls.”

“You flirt with M’gann all the time.”

“Yeah, flirt. Not ask out. Or like, date.” (Date. Why does that word hurt so much?)

“Neither do I.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

“You’re the son of a playboy billionaire. You must know something.”

“Well… (Dick? Dick? What are you doing?) You could practice on me.” (What?! Why the hell would you say that, Grayson?)

“Al-alright then,” Wally let out a deep exhale and strode directly in front of Dick with a smirk on his face, “So, ughh, hey. Wanna go out for ice cream later or something? (Yes. Yes, God, yes.) Yeah, that felt right. I think I’m gonna go ask her now. Thanks, Rob. You’re the best!”

When Wally hugged him, all he wanted to do was melt into that comforting warmth and stay there forever.

___

Batman made sure to prepare him for everything - how to survive kidnapping if you’ve lost your sight, what to do if you’re stranded in the middle of nowhere with limited supplies, where to go if the League had been compromised by their evil alternate dimension counterparts (apparently something happened before he came into the picture, something about a good Lex Luthor and the Crime Syndicate?) - but he could never have been prepared for his first heartbreak.

Dick was no stranger to pain; he likes to think of pain as some sort of old friend - in a weird, twisted way - because it’s the only thing in his life that was constant. The only thing that he could rely on to always be there for him, that would never truly leave him. Yes, he knew that that mindset was unhealthy, but he held onto it because to get rid of pain was like getting rid of a shadow - impossible and only attainable in absolute darkness, when you’ve lost all sense of direction.

Dick walked into the communal area, ready to have a fun-filled day with his best bro in the universe. Ever since Wally and Artemis had gotten together, all of their bro-time had seemed to be on the back burner: afternoons spent with Dick hunched over pizza and trading pixelated blows on Barry and Iris’ TV were replaced with movie dates with Artemis, hanging out in the park with him with trips with her to the mall, playing basketball in the court in the Manor gardens with days spent at diners and cafes with her - hell, he can’t even sit next to him because everytime he entered a room where Wally was, she was snuggled up next to him with her head on his shoulder (the same shoulder Dick used to cry on after a nightmare). He longed for the days the two of them would have karaoke sessions, heads banging vigorously up and down as they strummed their air guitars like their lives depended on it and screaming old 80s bops until their throats ached but even when they were together it was like all of the red head’s attention was on her, what with him on his phone either texting her every five minutes or having hour long conversations or simply just directing every conversation to be about her (“Hey Dick, where do you think I should Artemis for date night?”, “God, why does she always talk about my eating habits? I’m a speedster - I need the extra energy for my enhanced metabolism. Girls, honestly.”, “Oh my god, Dick, you should’ve seen the look on Arty’s face when I hit her during our date at the paintball arena. You were right, she loved it.”). The more time he spent with her, the more he was pushing Dick away with a sheepish “maybe later, dude” and Dick gets it. Artemis was a brilliant fighter, a real asset to the team. She wasn’t broken and had mental breakdowns and panic attacks at inconvenient times - it’s no wonder Wally prefered to be with her. He always thought that maybe the only reason Wally was with him was because of his sad backstory - the poor orphaned circus boy who watched his parents die at eight years old - it was enough to make anyone take pity on him. So he just did what anyone would do, he smiled and nodded (he’s a performer - has been since he’s learned how to walk - acting happy is just another role he has to play, another way of keeping his audience interested), gave his advice and hoped and prayed that it was enough to make sure he wasn’t left in Wally’s dust.

“Hey, Wally,” he greeted, walking up to them. Normally, before the days of Artemis, he would leap onto the couch cushions from behind and spring into a forwards flip from his hands and land on his feet in front of Wally with a smile but the last time he did that the blonde archer got annoyed so he stopped.

“Oh, Robin. Hey there, what’s up?” Wally asked as Artemis shifted her position so that she could place an arm around his torso, pressing herself against him more firmly.

“Well, I was wondering if you were ready for our hangout.” Dick replied casually, pulling out his cool cocky Boy Wonder persona when in reality he knew he was going to be blown off again (You never used to pretend in front of him before), “I’ve got ten different Barbie movies lined up and two boxes of Krispy Kreme doughnuts with your name on them.”

“Uh, actually, man, I can’t make it today,” Wally said, his tone apologetic, “I already promised Arty that I’d take her to the Weapons Museum today. I was going to tell you after I bought the tickets but I guess it just slipped my mind.”

“Wait, you guys watch Barbie movies,” Artemis piped in amusement, her nose scrunched as she gave a huff of laughter, “aren’t those for like little six year old girls that wear tutus and ribbons around their pigtails and dream of being fairy princesses when they grow up.”

“Yeah, we do,” Dick didn’t mean to sound defensive but he didn’t appreciate her tone. His masculinity wasn’t so toxic and fragile that he’d deny liking something that was classed as feminine - he grew up in a travelling circus, where gender roles didn’t matter (the bearded lady back at Haly’s was one of the most awesome people eight year old Dick knew). He loved watching The Island Princess with Wally - he totally related to Rosa trying so hard to please the upper class royal families despite not fitting in and being called ‘uncivilised’. Plus it had a talking elephant, which was awesome.

Wally cocked his head and made a noise at the back of his throat, “It’s less of us watching them and more of us laughing at how cliche the plots are.”

Dick looked at him. Is that what he really thought? He remembered belting out ‘I’m just a girl like you’ with Wally as Princess and the Pauper playing on the giant IMAX screen in the Wayne Manor theatre room. Did he secretly hate it? Just pretended to have fun to spare Dick’s feelings?

“I’m really sorry, dude,” Wally said, looking uncomfortable as he rubbed the back of his neck, “We can hang out tomorrow or something, right?” Poor Wally, he sounded so genuinely sorry. Dick didn’t want to be a burden, didn’t want their hangouts to be a chore Wally must fulfil. So he just smirked.

“Seriously, bro, I get it. I’ve got some stuff to do at home as well anyways. Been meaning to touch up on my aerial skills for some time actually. Now you guys have a fun time. I’m gonna be bob bob bobbin’ along.”

He’s happy for Wally, he really is. What sort of best friend would he be if he wasn’t? When Wally is with Artemis, he seems joyful, light, giving her smiles that he only used to give him. Wally deserved to be happy and if he was happier with Artemis, even by an atom’s amount, then who was he to deny him that?

——

One of the reasons Dick was at the top of his Advanced Mathematics class and award-winning Mathlete was because he genuinely loved Maths (and being at the top of everything was one of Bruce’s expectations). Back home, at the circus, he remembered having math teachers from around the world - he was the youngest there and everyone made sure to give him an education that he found was much better than the American school system. The acrobats, tightrope walkers and unicyclists taught him about physics and forces required for balance, the plate spinners, knife throwers and cannon-blasters taught him how math was an integral part of performance. Even the musicians and dancers would explain how numbers were important in their acts. He remembered how his six year old self was sat down in front of a group of daredevils (he always loved watching them zip around in their Globe of Death) and was taught everything he needed to know about a motorcycle: how it ran, how it was assembled, all the physics and mechanics behind it. He knew from then on that he definitely liked maths. Well, he’s got to anyway - being an aerialist means that you’ve got to know all this stuff about trajectories and aerodynamics and forces and motion and stuff.

But the best thing about Maths was that it was constant, never changes. Two plus two equals four, it has always equalled four and always will equal four. Dick is certain that if he were to build a time machine and go a thousand years into the future, two plus two would still make four. That's why he loves numbers so much: they don’t lie or change or forget you. You can rely on them. With numbers and equations, you’ll always get a right answer - with people you only get a not wrong answer. He may be a dynamic performer, a world-class actor that can never sit still - always willing to contort and change for the sake of his audience - but for once he wants the comfort of permanence.

____

“Dick,” Wally said solemnly one day. The two of them were sitting on the edge of the top of Dick’s apartment building, dressed in civvies, watching the sky and the hustle and bustle of the city. It was one of the rare days Dick and Wally could hang out - what with Wally at college and Dick patrolling Bludhaven both as Nightwing and Officer Grayson - and Dick wanted to make the most of it: the two of them went to Happy Harbour and spent the two hours they had playing at the Arcade and stuffing their mouths with whatever they could get their hands on. If Dick tried really hard, he could pretend that they were 14 and 16 again and Wally was his and only his. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“What is it,” Dick asked cautiously. Wally’s expression was too serious, it looked wrong and out of place - nothing at all like the goofy kid who stuck science themed stickers on every surface he owned and covered his room in glow in the dark stars so that the two of them could pretend to be intrepid voyagers snuggled up inside their tent - a hastily made blanket fort - with a flashlight that bore the Flash symbol.

“We - well, Artemis and I - we’ve been thinking. And trust me it’s got nothing to do with you, okay, absolutely nothing. But, well, it took me a long time to get to this decision and I think that it’s the right thing to do. So, well, what I guess what I’m trying to say is I’mquittingtheteam.”

“What did you say,” Dick whispered in shock. He knew exactly what his best friend said - after knowing him since he was ten he’s become fluent in Wally-speak - but he had to make sure-

“Artemis and I,” Wally breathed out, “We’re … leaving the team.”

“What? Why?” Dick tried to mask his panic but all he could hear was ‘leavingleavingI’mleavingtheteamI’mleavingyou’ over and over again in his head.

“It’s just that, well, it’s just that I’m moving to Palo Alto so that I can go to Stanford Uni and it’s gonna be a bit of a hassle living a double life.”

“It’s alright,” Dick said quickly, feeling his eyes start to brim with water, “I’m - I’m sure that The League would understand if you wanna take a few off days. Not everyone there’s like Bruce.”

“The thing is I don’t want to be Kid Flash anymore, you know. I don’t want to live a life where I could die any time I go out on the field. I just want to be Wally West: a college student trying to get into the CSI and lead a normal life. Sure I wanted to save the world back when I was a kid, but that was just a childish dream - I, I want to just be normal. (yeah, all the way in California. Away from me). I’m not going to be going away or anything (are you sure?). You know that right (do I?). I’ll still be there for you (LIES).”

Dick smiled and lied through his teeth, ignoring the feeling of hot tears streaming down his cheeks, “Hey, I’m good (you were never there for me anyway, were you just practicing for this moment?). I get it, the superhero life isn’t for everyone. You should do what you want. If you need any help I’ll be right here in ‘Haven.”

“Thanks man, you’re the best (“Thanks, Rob. You’re the best!” a teenaged Wally West said before he ran off to ask Artemis out). You supporting me really means a lot.” Just then a ‘ding’ cut into the silence and Wally fished his phone out of his pocket, “Aww man, it’s Arty. I best get going.” and with that he was gone, leaving a whoosh of breeze in his place.

The last time he felt this abandoned was when he watched a man and woman fall to their deaths. He supposes that Wally and his parents are similar like that. They both are going to be in a better place. It just so happens that the better place in question doesn’t include him.

He’s been tortured by the Joker, beaten to near death by Two Face, and was left in a pool of his own blood by the Penguin but none of that physical pain could ever come close to the anguish he feels when he watches Wally leave. The agony fills him up to the brim and he can’t - he can’t breathe. He races down the stairwell of the roof and slams the door of his apartment open. The sound of the handle banging against the wall is lost on him as he heaves over his bathroom sink. He looks at his red-eyed, tear-stained reflection in the mirror. In the sink, lilac petals clung onto sticky red blood.

��————

“Hanahaki Disease:” Dick’s computer screen read, “The term hanahaki comes from the Japanese words hana (花), which means "flower", and hakimasu (吐きます), which means "to throw up”. Hanahaki Disease is a disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns their feelings (romantic love only; strong friendship is not enough), or when the victim dies. It can be cured through surgical removal, but once surgery is undergone, the victim loses all feelings of affection (both romantic and platonic) as well as the ability to ever love again.

The victim's lungs get filled with the flowers and roots grow in their respiratory system. It often develops over months or even years, beginning with coughing up a few petals and growing in intensity (and pain) until the victim is vomiting entire flowers, by which point the disease has entered its final stages. The rate at which the disease worsens and spreads throughout the body is specific to the individual. The longest case was Danielle Chamberlain (1801 - 1834) who had it for 10 years and the shortest case was Akai Shimizu (1914 - 1931) who died after two weeks.” *

Well.

He’s screwed.

______

When he was about to go to bed after a night of patrol, he lay in bed in the darkness, staring at the ceiling. He turned on his phone and pressed the playlist he and Wally made when they were kids. ABBA came out of the speaker:

Where are those happy days, they seem so hard to find

I tried to reach for you, but you have closed your mind…

____

The love you gave me, nothing else can save me

S. O. S.

When you're gone

How can I even try to go on?

When you're gone

Though I try, how can I carry on?

___

It was Wally’s birthday party and Dick stood in the corner of the restaurant Barry had reserved for the occasion. The only people in the building were the old team, Barry, Iris, Clark and Bruce. And Roy was there too, which was nice. When Wally was egged on to do a birthday speech before he cut the cake, he spoke about how lucky he is to have so many amazing friends and such an awesome girlfriend. When the redhead gave her a peck on the cheek, Dick’s stomach gave a lurch as he could feel the inevitable cough building up his throat. He tried to excuse himself as he made way into a disabled bathroom and locked himself in there. After coughing out a cluster of chrysanthemum petals - and holy cow, that’s a lot of blood - he carefully opened the door to find himself face to face with a concerned Roy Harper.

“Everything good there, Dickie?”

“Wha- oh, yeah. I’m fine.”

Roy raised an eyebrow, “You sure? ‘Cause I heard retching and you don’t look too hot.”

“I guess I might have food poisoning. I did eat some old Ramen for lunch yesterday.”

Roy did not look convinced. He never really stopped being Dick’s older brother, even after he left the team. Sometimes the two of them would trade text messages when they’re not too busy. He loved Roy so much (not as much as Wally) and he was sure that Roy loved him. The red haired archer would always make sure to check up on him when the date of his parents death anniversary would arrive. He wondered how long it would take for Roy to get fed up with him.

“I think that you should go home and get some rest.”

“What, Roy? No, I can’t. This is Wally’s birthday and he’ll be crushed if I go (as if). What sort of friend would I be if I leave? Plus, I hardly get to see him otherwise,” noticing how high and desperate his voice sounded, he quickly added, “you know, what with him in college and me working as a police officer and everything.”

…

“Sure... Look, Dick, I’m sure Wally would understand if you go. Your health is more important than a party (no it’s not. Why would I matter to anyone?). Just go home, alright. I’ll save you a slice of cake.”

Contrary to popular belief, Dick knew a losing battle when he saw one, “Alright, Roy, I’ll head off. Just do me a favour, okay. Don’t mention me being too unwell to B. You know how he gets. I don’t want him or Alfred getting too worried.”

“Sure thing, bird brain,” Roy smirked but his eyes still had that concerned, protective look in them. He clamped his hand onto Dick’s shoulder, “just remember, though, that it’s okay to have people worrying about you.”

Dick gave a toothy smile he didn’t feel at all, “‘Course I will.”

“Yo, Goldie. Open up.” Jason yelled as he pounded on the apartment door, “C’mon Dickolas, I’m freezing out here.”

“Jason, quit yelling,” Tim whispered sharply to the older vigilante, aware of how loud his knocking is.

“Tt, I don’t see why we can’t just enter the apartment. It’s not like Grayson would be angry, he’s forever asking us to visit.”

“Yeah but the fact that he isn’t answering the door is really concerning,” Tim said, mostly to himself, “Jason - quit banging, you’re going to wake all of his neighbours - just use the spare key he gave you.”

“Alright, alright. Keep your hair on.”

And with that Jason opened the door and the boys entered the apartment.

“Big Bird?”

“Dick, are you alright. Roy called us. He said you weren’t feeling well. He sounded really worri-”

“GRAYSON!”

Jason and Tim immediately looked at each other when they heard Damian’s shout from his position outside of Dick’s bathroom before rushing to meet him. The youngest’s horrified face was pale and his terrified eyes were staring straight at something that when they followed the line of sight made them freeze.

Dick was collapsed over his commode, breathing heavily as if every breath he took caused him immense pain. Splashes of blood and petals were leading up to him like a horrific trail and his dark hair was matted against his pallid face.

“Dick!” Tim cried as he ran towards Dick and crouched beside him.

“Ti’m?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s Tim.”

“Wha’ - wh’ryu-?”

“Roy,” Jason answered, looking uncharacteristically scared himself as he sat himself down on the other side of his brother, “he called us and said that you weren’t well. We tried to call you but you weren’t answering so we came to check up on you. Why didn’t you tell us you had Hanahaki?”

“I didn’t want you guys to worry. I didn’t realise how bad it was-” he was then cut off as he retched more blood and petals into the toilet bowl as Tim rubbed circles into his back.

“Who is it?” Tim asked.

“It’s Wally, isn’t it.” Jason said. It was a statement, not a question.

“How - how did you?”

“It’s kind of obvious,” Jason shrugged, acting nonchalant but failing to get rid of that fearful look in his eye, “Even when I was Robin, I could tell you had the hots for him.”

Dick wiped away the blood dripping down his chin,“You guys can’t tell Bruce.”

“What do you mean we cannot tell Father?!” Damian cried, “We can get you cured.”

“Damian,” Dick looked at his positively shaken brother, “do you know what Hanahaki is?”

“Yes, of course -“

“Then you know why I can’t tell Bruce. If I tell him, he’ll force me to get the surgery.”

“But, Dick, you don’t need to. You could just con-”

The eldest cut Tim off, “I can’t confess Tim. He doesn’t want me. I can’t just force him to be with me.”

“Then you just need to-”

“I’m not getting the surgery either. I just can’t”

“I don’t want you to die Dick,” Tim immediately burst into tears as he roughly embraced the man. Dick held him close, whispering comforts into his little brother’s hair, when he saw that Damian had tears running down his own cheeks. He held open an arm and he youngest dived into Dick’s side and hugged him as well.

Dick looked at Jason imploringly, “You can’t tell Bruce. Please.”

Jason’s jaw was set, his eyes firm but he relented at the sight of his brother’s bloodstained face.

“Okay.”

Dick sat cross-legged in front of two identical graves, the rain pouring down heavily onto his body. He felt someone stand behind him.

“Dick?” Wally asked, “Is everything alright? Is there anything you need?”

“Could you stay here? For a bit?”

“Of course I will,” Wally sat down beside him and held him close, “I’ll always be there when you need me.”

One night, Jason decided to go visit Dick after spending his patrol taking down a drug cartel. He had called the first Robin previously but the man didn’t answer his calls. All 20 of them. After a conversation with Tim, he found that he wasn’t responding to any attempts made to contact him and that his tracker showed that he was still in his apartment. Entering Dick’s apartment through the window, he cautiously stepped into his brother’s living room and his heart dropped to his stomach.

Dick was slumped against a wall with his eyes closed. Trails of scarlet liquid dripping down his mouth and chin dropping onto the pool of blood, chrysanthemums that surrounded him. Bottles of gin were littered across the floor around him, which was what shocked him the most - Dick was not a heavy drinker. He called alcohol a trapeze artist’s worst nightmare.

(“Alcohol makes you lose focus,” Dick said, “losing focus means losing balance and grip. The moment you lose focus, you lose your life.”)

“What the hell happened here, Big Bird?” Jason asked in worry. He crouched in front of one of the strongest people he ever knew and gently shook him. Dick’s eyes were flickering open. Their baby blues were dim, misty, lacking their usual brightness and warmth - everything about them that made them Dick’s.

“Wha - Jay! What areya do-doin’ here?” Dick’s voice was garbled, confused and Jason felt a surge of protectiveness rush inside his veins. “You don’t - don’t gotta be here. I’m - I’m fi-ine.”

Jason took in his infallible older brother’s haggard form - his unusually pale face and the dark rings around his eyes) and sighed, “I need alcohol.”

______

“I just - I thought he might have cared about - about me.” Dick sniffed tearfully, words still slurring even a half hour later, “But no he only cared about her. “I’m worried about Artemis” what about me?! I - I was so sc-scared, Jason. My - my team was in danger, an-and I already lost you, I - I couldn’t - couldn’t lose anyone else. And - and I was all by myself and I - I - I just couldn’t-” he broke down crying, clutching Jason’s shirt like a lifeline. Jason’s arm immediately stroked Dick’s shaking back, making sure to pat his hair as well.

“Shh, shh. It’s okay Dickie. I’m here, just let it out,” Jason murmured soothingly.

“All I ever wanted was to be- be friends again. But no matter how hard I tried, he-he just - he just kept pushing me away. I know that I’m not good enough for- for Bruce, but I thought that - that maybe, I was enough for him.” He then started crying again, his words slipping from English into a mix of Romani, French, Spanish, Italian, Arabic, German and every other language he learned at Haly’s. Jason was still swiping his hand down the curve of his spine. After he composed himself somewhat, “He was my first - my first friend after my - my parents. He- he said he’d - he’d be there for me. We p-promised to be b-bros. We pink-pinkie promised an’ ev’rythin. I told him ev-evrythin: ‘bout my p-parents, my night-nightmares. I even told him ab-about that time I killed the Joker.”

Wait, hold up.

“You killed the Joker?”

“Ye-yeah,” Dick wiped his nose with his sleeve as his voice became a whisper, “I thought he killed Tim and started - started taunting me about your death and I couldn’t just stand back so I saw red. Next thing I know, I beat him to death. Batman revived him when he arrived”

“Dick..”

“When I saw him I I ju- just couldn’t help myself. You know what he said when I hit him? “I hit Jason a lot harder”.”

“God, Dick.” Jason was quiet for a second before saying, “Did you use a crowbar? Because if you did, I really would’ve appreciated the poetic justice.”

“Jay-”

“Yeah. Bad timing. I just can’t believe you killed the Joker”

“I couldn’t let him get away with what he did. No one’s allowed to hurt my little brother and gets away with it.”

Dick then coughed up more blood and petals. Jason held him close as he apologised between sobs.

————

John Grayson hissed in pain as his wife dabbed the blood stained wet cloth on the cut on his face. A few minutes ago, his cheek was sliced by a drunkard with a broken bottle that was harassing a few of the circus folk after a show. Dick sat on his father’s lap, hugging him tearfully.

“Why - why did that man do that?” He asked his parents.

“Because he didn’t like us,” Mary replied. She placed a bandage on her husband’s wounded cheek and kissed it.

“But why, Mami?”

“Because he was scared of us.”

“Why would he be scared of us?”

“Because we’re different, păsărică (little bird), and that makes him scared. People don’t like difference because it’s new, they can’t understand it and when people can’t understand anything they get scared.”

“So that’s why he hurt Tati? Because he was scared?”

“Yes, draga mea (my darling). Fear makes people do terrible things, Dick. It makes people lie, cheat and kill. Many people consider it to be the strongest force on Earth.”

“Do you think it is?”

“No. Because I know the one thing that’s stronger than fear.”

“And what’s that Mami?”

“Love. Love is the most powerful thing a person can have. It’s what stops fear from consuming you. When your heart is full of love then your life is full of light and happiness. When you feel love, you can do anything. So remember, my little Robin, to always keep love in your heart because when someone loses their ability to love, they lose their ability to be a human and their life is plunged in darkness.”

“Don’t worry Mami. I’ll never forget.”

———-

His siblings decided that enough was enough. They came clean to Bruce and forced Dick to come to the Manor. Well it was less of a force and more of tranquilising him and carrying his body to Gotham, but semantics. He awoke later in his bedroom at the Manor, hooked onto some sort of monitor. Bruce, of course, was furious.

“How could you have kept this from me?”

“Because I know how you would react. You’d make me get the surgery.”

“Of course I would. You’re my son. You are not going to die.” Bruce said the last part with such conviction.

“No, Bruce.”

“Dick, if you don’t get the surgery, you’ll die!” Tim yelled, every world laced in pain.

“Don’t you see, Tim,” Dick argued back, “if I get the surgery, I’ll die anyway. I’ll never feel love ever again. I’ll never be able to feel that comfort when I remember my parents, that pride when I find out that Dami’s won another award, that warmth in my chest every time I’m with my friends, my family. I’ll be looking straight at my family’s faces every single day but I’d never be able to tell them I love them ever again. That’s not the person my parents raised. I’ll be alive, but I won’t be living. I won’t be Dick Grayson, I’ll just be a man that looks like your brother.”

“That’s alright,” Tim replied back, his voice hysterical with desperation. If it weren’t for the fact that Dick was hooked onto the machine, he would’ve thrown his arms around his little bird, “You’ll still be our brother even if you don’t love us. We’ll still love you.”

“No, Tim.”

“So that’s it then,” Jason said bitterly, “you’re going to give up your life just because one idiot speedster doesn’t love you.”

“Listen to yourself Grayson,” Damian yelled, tears streaming down his face and oh did Dick want to get up and hug him as well, “you speak as if your love for West is worth dying for but isn’t your love for us worth living for?”

“I do love you guys, Dami. I love you all so much. That’s why I can’t get the surgery. Because you all deserve a brother that can tell you that every single day of your life. You all speak like me not loving you won’t hurt you and maybe it won’t. Maybe for the first few months it won’t. But what about in two years, three years, he’ll even ten years in the future, you mean to tell me that you won’t be able to handle it. That you won’t resent me for never being able to give you a hug, never ruffling your hair comforting you when you're sad, you’ll be able to live with me acting as if you’re nothing to me. You wouldn’t love me, you’ll tolerate me like I’m some sort of burden and I refuse to be a burden on anyone

“You won’t be a burden,” Tim whispered, as his own tears stained his shirt, “you’ll be our brother.”

That night, both Tim and Damian slept on either side of their older brother with Jason lying on a mattress beside them.

——-

“YOU CHEATED!”

“Jay-bird, how can I cheat? It’s snakes and ladders.”

“I don’t care. I still say that you cheated.”

“Oh come on-”

“Dick!”

Jason and Dick were interrupted from their good-natured bickering by the sound of a very familiar voice. They both swivelled their heads to the source of it to see a very bedraggled Wally West standing at the doorway of Dick’s room.

“Dick. I-I heard the news. I came to see- are- are you alright?”

“Wally West,” Jason stated darkly, “you’re the person that’s supposed to be his best friend.”

“What?” Wally looked confused as Dick gave him a sharp look as if to say ‘Don’t’.

Jason ignored him as he stared straight at the older man, “You heard me. I thought friends were supposed to watch out for each other. I guess the definition changed after I got put into the ground.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Jason, enough,” Dick hissed.

“What I’m talking about, Wallace, is your complete inability to be a decent human being. What I’m talking about is how you think that you can waltz in here all willy-nilly and act like you haven’t spent years pushing Dick away.”

“What? I haven’t been-”

“Oh, you haven’t. Well, silly me. It’s just that I thought ignoring someone for months on end constitutes on pushing away. Like seriously, with friends like you, who needs enemies?”

“What’s your problem?”

“I don’t like watching Dick get hurt.”

“Yet, when you guys met again the first thing you did was try to shoot him.”

“Enough!” Dick yelled, “Please. I’m going through a lot right now and the last thing I want to hear is my brother arguing with my best friend. If you’re going to argue can you please do it outside.”

“Alright then,” Jason says as he grabs Wally’s hand and drags him to his own room, “C’mon West, there’s a lot I want to say to you.”

After Jason closed the door, Wally started, “What’s your deal?”

“My deal?” Jason laughs with no humour, “My deal is that you’ve been a s***ty friend to my big brother and I don’t stand for it. He needed you and you abandoned him when he needed you the most. He loves you more than everything and you can’t spare him the time of day. You were his best friend and the first person he ever trusted after the League and Alfred and you go around for years acting like he doesn’t exist! He drops everything for you! No matter where he is or what he’s doing, he’s always been there for you. The Pit may have messed up my head but I still remember this one time back when I was Robin. We had been in a burning building and he sacrificed himself for me. The idiot pushed me away when a wall was gonna collapse on me and trapped himself under it whilst yelling at me to escape. By the time Bruce got to him he was out. Was hooked on the breathing equipment for two days. The moment he got his phone back was when you called about something to do with Artemis and he stayed on the line for two whole hours listening to you and never once mentioned about how he almost died. Well now he’s dying! My brother’s been dying for a while now but you were too busy playing happy families with your girlfriend to even notice!”

Wally just looked horrified as he whispered, “I - I didn’t mean to push him away. I’ve been so busy and-”

“Really,” Jason raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed, “you know, I always thought you never deserved him. To be honest I don’t think anyone deserves to have Dick in their life. To this day I still ask myself what good did Bruce ever do to have someone like him. He takes so much s*** from everyone and refuses to do anything about it. No matter how hurt he gets, he’ll always forgive you. He is just too good for us. Maybe that’s what this is. Maybe it’s the universe’s way of taking him back, of saving him from getting hurt again. Like it’s saying “I gave you a gift and you didn’t treat it right so now I’m taking it back. You had your chance and now it’s too late”. Tell me West, if he wasn’t lying on his deathbed, would you even be here. Or would you still be living in your happy little bubble without giving a s*** about the person that has always stood by you.”

His voice went low and quiet as he stood directly in front of the red head, using the few inches he had over him to loom over him as he clutched the front of Wally’s shirt, “The only reason that I’m not throwing you out of here is because Dick cares about you and I prioritise my brother over revenge. But listen here, if you say or do anything from this moment forth that upsets him in any way, I’ll make sure that you can’t take a step in Gotham without one of the bats going after you.”

“Understood,” Wally nodded, tears in his eyes, looking angry, aghast and ashamed at his behaviour.

____

“Dick, I’m sorry. God, I’m so so sorry.”

“Wally, it’s okay. Really.”

“No. No, it’s not okay. You’ve got to stop making excuses for everyone.”

“Wally-”

“No, Dick, please. I’ve got to say this. Ever since I started dating Artemis I’ve been a terrible friend. Don’t try to deny it, it’s the truth. I kept blowing you off and pushing you away and you just wanted to spend time with me. I was so happy to have started dating, I didn’t realise that I was hurting my best friend. And I’m so sor-”

“Wally,” Dick cut in, “it’s okay. Really. You have your own life. I couldn’t expect you to drop everything for me.”

“You drop everything for everyone.”

“Yeah, and I’m cool with that. Listen, I forgive you, alright. I got to terms with it ages ago,” Dick was smiling at him, his tone bearing no resentment and his eyes filled with warmth, “so can you please stop apologising and tell me about your life.”

______

That night, after Wally had left with promises of returning soon (“Why should you believe him?” a voice asked cynically, “he’s made promises before. He promised that he’ll always be there for you, that he’ll always have your back. Fat lot of good those promises were.”) Jason had sat beside him. Both of them were reading quietly, finding comfort in the silence and the constant beeps of the heart monitor.

“Jason?” Dick inquired after a while, not looking up from his well-worn copy of the Robin Hood novel his mother and father gifted to him on his seventh birthday.

Jason grunted in response, eyes still trained on his own book.

Dick took that as a reason to continue, “Why did you say those things to Wally?”

Jason looked him straight in the eye and replied, “Because no one hurts my big brother and gets away with it.”

The silence continued for a second before Dick spoke up, “Do you think you could read your book to me?”

The other vigilante raised an eyebrow, “You want to hear about The Reign of Terror.”

“Jay-bird, I’m an uncultured gypsy circus freak that Bruce Wayne took in as a charity case and you’re a street rat from Crime Alley that was yet another charity case. Nothing would be a better way for us to bond than to hear about anarchy and revolution against the bourgeoisie. Nothing brings together two people better than discussions of Class Warfare. Besides, it might give us ideas for Bruce’s next stupid gala.”

“True that,” Jason flipped to the front page and began, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness..”

_____

Later on, after a night of patrol, when Tim and Damian came to Dick’s room, they found him asleep with a softly snoozing Jason holding him protectively.

_____

“I love you, Dick,” Bruce whispered as he traced the back of Dick’s hand with his thumb, eyes boring into his sons, “I know that I don’t say it enough. You don’t hear it any where close to as much ass you deserve to. But I love you so much. You’re my son, my light. You were the one who pulled me out of the darkness. I can’t lose you, Robin.”

Dick’s eyes were watering and lips, trembling, “I’m not getting it, B.”

“Please. Please for me. I know I’ve already asked you for a lot, more than I should. But please consider it. For me, for your brothers, for your family. Just - please just consider it.”

Dick took a breath, “Sure, I’ll think about it.”

Bruce smiled tearfully, “Thank you, chum.”

He leaned down, cupped his son’s cheek and kissed his forehead.

____

“I have an idea,” Damian declared after removing another block from their Jenga tower. He, Jason and Tim were huddled around him on the bed. They spent the entire day playing every game they could think of - Bluff (“To enhance our body reading skills of course”), Taboo (“Jason, quit squeezing that thing before I throw my mug at you”), Uno (yeah, they had to stop three minutes in to prevent Damian from attacking Tim because of another plus four) before deciding on Jenga. When Tim got the box out, Dick proclaimed that he thought that the plain brown pieces of wood were ‘too boring’ and ‘lacked personality’ so the four of them used Damian’s art set as well as Dick’s old paints to decorate them. The end result was like something out of a Picasso painting, all conflicting colours that stuck out everywhere, but Dick thought it was the most beautiful creation on Earth.

“What is it?” Tim inquired as he removed a yellow brick that was covered with small smiley faces. He released the breath he was holding as the tower wobbled but stayed standing.

“We kill West.”

“What, Damian?” Dick exclaims, startled by Damian’s blunt reply. Whilst his youngest brother hasn’t made his negative feelings for the speedster unknown, it was unlike him to so casually speak of his murder - at least around him. “How could you say that.”

“The reason you are … in this condition” - they all flinched at the unheard ‘dying’ - “is due to West not reciprocating your feelings towards him. If he were no longer in the picture, there would be no reason for there to be unreciprocated feelings and you shall be cured.”

Dick’s eyes softened, “Damian, it doesn’t work like that. I won’t stop loving him even if he’s dead. And even if it did work, you can’t just kill him because it’ll save me. The reason I’m lying on this bed is because of me and me alone. None of it is his fault.”

“Why do you even love him?” Jason asked, “After all he’s done?”

“I don’t know,” Dick mused, he took out a brick near the foundation of the structure (a bright red one that had the words ‘BATMAN SUCKS’ scribbled on in black marker) - making it unstable and unable to hold up - and watched their carefully crafted tower crumble, “I guess the one thing I’m good at is getting hurt.”

——-

That night Dick was tossing and turning, unable to sleep. He couldn’t get much rest anyway, he’d be abruptly woken up by the bloodied petals that would burst out of his mouth like a geyser. Lo and behold, his body shook as he coughed, blood splattering onto his fingertips. He stared at the red that trickled down onto his palm. He remembered reading Macbeth back in Middle School and always wondered about Lady Macbeth - how she spent night after night plagued by her own guilt, perpetually washing her hands to get rid of the imagined bloodstains. He wondered how she felt to be trapped in her own nightmare, to lose control of her own mind. How much sleep she sacrificed. What she must have thought as she climbed the steps of the tower. How she must have felt when she jumped off, knowing that her suffering would be over. Unfortunately, Shakespeare died so he won’t be getting any answers soon. His mind flashed back to two other broken, fallen bodies and his hands covered in blood that wasn’t his own, as he just lay in bed and wondered.

“Food poisoning, really,” Roy Harper said, unamused. Dick smiled weakly in response, “God, look at you. What would’ve happened if I didn’t give the Manor a call when I did. Would you have, what, just died in your apartment, waiting for someone to stumble upon your corpse?”

“I didn’t want anyone to find out this way. Or at all to be honest.”

“Dick, seriously man. I’m supposed to be your big brother. How could you hide this from me. I thought you could tell me everything.”

“Roy, Hanahaki is a disease that can only be cured in two ways. Both of them are things I’d never do.”

“Richard John Grayson, I swear-”

“The only way for the surgery to work is if I consent, right. Well, I would never consent to losing the most important part of me.”

“And you won’t confess because-?”

“I can’t force someone to be with me out of pity. Especially not when they’re with someone else already. When they’ve already pushed me out of their life.”

“You really are a piece of work Grayson, you and your stupid hero-complex. You know what happens if this continues, right? You die! You die and there’s nothing any of us can do.”

“I kind of get that, Roy,” Dick deadpanned, “seeing as I’m the one that’s dying.”

“You seriously believe that I, the League, your friends, your family would be able to live without you?”

(Wally could)

“It would hurt or be hard but I’m sure that they could. My presence is not essential for survival. Besides the League existed before me, it can exist without me.”

“Who hurt you, my little kitten,” Selina hummed as she traced the lines of his face.

“No one, Selina,” Dick replied, eyes shut as he melted into the show of affection, “I hurt myself.”

The days went by. More and more people were begging and pleading with him to take the surgery. That his life was not worth his feelings for one person. That they would still love him even if he couldn’t love them back. That having him alive and unfeeling would be much better than not having him at all. He had never seen Bruce let out so many tears in his life. The sight of the cold, calculated Batman that would make Gotham’s hardest criminals fall to their knees imploring him with a cracked, choked up voice on the verge of breaking down was something he would never forget - and he caused it.

“You are a fighter,” Diana had said one day as she sat next to him. She had spent her time telling him every story that she could think of. “You always had been. I admit that I was cautious when I heard that Batman had taken in a partner. I didn’t know if having a man like Bruce Wayne in your life would be good for you. But you were definitely good for him. You’ve changed him in ways that I couldn’t even dream of. I understand your decision, and while it’s not the one I would’ve wanted for you to take, it’s the one that suits you. For Dick Grayson without love is like the Solar System without the Sun.

Dick took her battle-hardened hand with his own week one and held it, rubbing it with his thumb.

“You are a fighter,” the warrior repeated, fire in her eyes, “so when you go down, go down with a fight.”

___

“When I die,” Dick said one day, high off of pain meds, “I don’t want anyone wearing black to my funeral okay. I see enough darkness already in my life, there shouldn’t be sadness during my death. Everyone should be wearing the brightest colours imaginable. At least have a yellow sock or something. I want music and laughter and embarrassing stories. Play Rick Astley instead of that terrible organ march. Hire a bubble machine instead of a Priest. And I don’t want any stupid roses either. It’s either sunflowers or nothing.”

___

“Why are you doing this Dick?” Wally asked tearfully. Dick was so weak now. His veins darkened as flowery vines curled around his chest and arms. He looked like a masterpiece, an untouchable work of art, “Why are you just letting yourself die.”

“Don’t start, Wally. Please.”

“Dick…”

“I’m not getting the surgery, Wally. So you should just drop it. You should know how stubborn I can be. So how’s things with you?”

“Dick...”

“Seriously, you’re my best friend. I want to know that at least your life doesn’t suck.”

“Well, Artemis and I broke up so ...”

“What?” Dick exclaimed in shock, “you guys broke up? But you were so happy together (happy enough to forget me). You loved her so much.”

“Yeah, that’s the thing. I don’t really know if I loved her or just really liked her. We just realised that we weren’t compatible, you know. She wanted more than I can give her.”

“Bro,” Dick looked at him with concern, “I’m so sorry. Are you okay.”

Wally gave him an incredulous look, “Dude, you’re literally dying but you’re asking me if I’m okay?”

“Again, you’re my best friend, it's my job to worry.”

“God, I don’t deserve you.”

“Hey,” Dick chastised, “I’m the judge of whether you deserve me or not, okay. And I say that anyone who has a breakup is entitled to at least two movies and three hours of video games.

“Is that so?” Wally raised his eyebrows.

Dick gave the gravest nod he can muster, “Of course it’s true. I got a doctorate in Best Friendology, you know. So I know what I’m talking about.”

“Well, if the doctor orders.”

——

“The spark just died out, I guess. We started to realise that we were acting less like a couple and more like roommates that occasionally made out,” Wally exclaimed as he shovelled another mouth of caramel chocolate crunch ice cream into his mouth, “It was like we were just trying to make it work but it just wasn’t catching on. It’s okay though, we’re still friends so I’m cool with living the single life.”

“Not for long though,” Dick said, smiling at him with a look of pure fondness that Wally couldn’t help but blush, “you are an amazing person Wally. I’m sure you’ll find someone.”

“Yeah, right.”

“No, really. You probably don’t think it but you’re still my best friend. No one can take that away. Having you in their life would be the greatest honour a person can receive.”

“Psssh, whatever. Let’s see if you’ll still say that once I kick your butt at Call of Duty.”

“Dick, you can’t be serious.”

“I’m really sorry, Uncle Clark,” Dick looked down, refusing to meet his idol’s disheartened gaze.

“Dick, look at you,” Dick was sure that Clark gave him a once over with his x-ray vision when he entered, if that slight wince was anything to go by, “you’re wasting away. This isn’t you.”

“If I take the surgery, I wouldn’t be me either.”

“Of course you will. I know you think that we won’t love you if you do but we will. You will always be my nephew. I’d rather have you alive and not love me than never seeing you again.”

“Uncle Clark, I understand what you’re saying and if it was anyone else but me I would be agreeing with you. Yes, I know it’s selfish to do this but it’s the only choice I have. I don’t want people to look back at me and remember me as the person who forgot how to love. For me to be the cautionary tale for what happens if you let your emotions get the best of you. All my life I wanted to catch people, to be the safety net my parents didn’t have. If I lose my love, my passion to keep the people I love safe, then I’ll lose the very reason why I exist. You may be able to live with me but I won’t.”

“I love you Dick. So so much. Ever since the day I met you, when you threw yourself into my arms and asked if I could take you flying, I knew that you would be special, that you would change everyone’s lives for the better. And I was right, even if you made it a habit to give me heart attacks ever since you put on that mask. You will always have my respect.”

“I love you too, Uncle Clark. If anyone deserves that ‘World’s Best Uncle’ mug I gave you when I was ten, it’s you. I’d do anything for you. But this is the one thing I won’t. I’m sorry.”

They sat in silence before Dick piped up, asking sheepishly, “Do you- do you suppose you could tell me a Kryptonian legend. I wouldn’t mind hearing that one about Nightwing and Flamebird again.”

Clark smiled sadly, “It would be my pleasure.”

_____

Today’s the day.

Dick knew that he wasn’t going to survive the night. So he did everything he could. When his family came to check on him, he greeted them with a smile. When the clock chimed ten o’clock, he told them to leave.

“Dick, it’s okay. We can skip patrol,” Tim said.

“No, Tim. Batman needs Robin by his side and Robin needs his older brothers to watch his back. You can’t stop protecting Gotham just for me.”

“We’d do anything for you,” Tim’s eyes were sad, it made Dick feel bad for lying to him

“I know. Trust me, I’ll be alright. Now go so when you come back I can hear all the juicy details.” Dick gave him one of his signature Grayson smiles, using his so called puppy dog eyes for extra effect (he is ashamed to say that it’s not the first time he used them on a family member but desperate times..). “I love you guys, okay. Te iubesc, fratii mei mici (I love you, my little brothers).”

“We love you too, you big idiot,” Jason replies and Dick isn’t faking the smile when he hears that.

“Alright, come on guys. Pre-patrol hug, bring it in.”

___

“I’m not going to make it Alfie,” Dick says when Alfred arrives.

“I know, dear boy.”

“You - you know?”

The Englishman raises an eyebrow, “You may be able to deceive your brothers but do not forget that I was in the army, Master Richard. I can tell the look of a man who knows when his time has come.”

“I didn't mean to lie to them,” Dick says softly, “I just- I couldn’t let them see me like that. I didn’t want them to worry. It’s probably not the right decision but…”

“My dear child, I don’t believe that there is a right way to go about these sorts of affairs. Even on your last breath you try to shield them from the horrors of this world. You are a remarkable person, Master Richard, that is for sure.”

“Do you think I’ll meet them when I- when I go?”

“I cannot say for certain. However, I know for a fact that if you do, they would feel nothing but pride for the young man you’ve grown up to be. Just as Master Bruce and I am.”

“I love you, Alfred.” Dick’s weak voice was tearful as he looked at the man that was a grandfather to him growing up.

“And I do you, Master Richard,” Alfred’s words were choked, as if he’s struggling to hold himself together. The butler wiped away a black forelock, “It’s been an honour to serve you.”

____

After the man left on Dick’s command, with tears streaming down his usually held together face,the first Robin laid down on the bed, clutching his old stuffed elephant as he stared at the ceiling with a soft smile.

“Hi Mami, hi Tati. Let me tell you about my day…”

___

When Alfred gave them the news over the comms, the residents of Wayne Manor were stunned into silence. Not one of them moved or uttered a word before they raced back home. They all entered Dick’s room in a frenzy only to pause at the sight before them.

Alfred was sitting at the foot of Dick’s bed which was enwrapped with flowery vines - originating from the former Boy Wonder’s chest - that reached the floor and curled over the soft carpet in the shape of angel wings. Dick’s hands were clasped daintily over the centre of his unmoving chest, his eyes closed like he was asleep, his mouth was slightly parted and chrysanthemums blossomed between his lips. Black hair framed his face like a halo as lilac petals covered his body, softening his edges. The stems embraced his form, like it was protecting it from the rest of the world.

He looked like a masterpiece. A work of art to forever be treasured and to never be touched. It was the picture of haunting beauty, a real-life paradox. How could something so beautiful, so captivating be so horrific. As a painting, the sight was alluring, awe-inspiring but as the harsh truth, the picture of the man’s corpse made everyone want to vomit.

Damian and Tim fell to their knees next to him; crying, screaming, pleading. Pleasewakeuppleasewakeuppleaseplease. Bruce held them close, his own tears staining his batsuit. He wanted to shout, scream, to punch something Goddamnit! This was not supposed to happen. His son, who was so full of life, who somersaulted into his life with bright eyes that would put a nebula to shame and eager-to-please smiles, can’t go. Not like this. Not by himself, in his room (he always hated the size of his room when he first came - hated how it was nothing like the compact trailer he grew up in). He could never sit still, not even during stakeout, not even as an adult. To see him just lying there, face blank, paralysed like he just saw Medusa was unnatural. Not even Scarecrow’s fear toxin could cook up an image so fearful.

And Jason. Jason just stared.

It was too late

_____

Nightwing’s memorial was put up in Mount Justice the next day. Every hero on Earth attended the service. No one said anything. They all just stood there in organised rows, silently looking at the hologram of one of the strongest, most respected heroes to ever walk the planet.

Dick would’ve hated it.

___

“He was supposed to be the best of us,” Clark said later, when everyone had returned home. Crime won’t stop because one hero had died. The world won’t stop spinning because Nightwing was no longer walking on it. No matter how many people wished it would.

______

“Who was it?” Wally asked.

“You,” Jason replied.

___

Richard John Grayson died a week later. The pneumonia he had contracted became fatal. That was the only information Bruce Wayne gave out to the press before shutting himself in his house, refusing to come out for a month.

The funeral was held two days after the announcement but no one except Dick’s closest friends and family were allowed to attend. Every person wore a sunflower on their jacket and a brightly coloured tie.

____

Wally sat cross-legged in front of three identical tombstones.

“I’m so sorry, Dick,” He wept, “I’m so so sorry.”

___

When Dick Grayson left Wally West’s life, there was no fanfare, no blinding lights or blaze of glory. He wasn’t Robin or Nightwing, a hero or civilian, the ward of a billionaire or the child of two acrobats from a circus, the brother of three grieving boys or the nephew of the mourning Justice League. When Dick Grayson left, he died only as a man who loved too much and expected too little.

*Mostly copied and pasted from Fanlore.org: https://fanlore.org/wiki/Hanahaki_Disease

#birdflash #wallydick #dickwally #wally west #dick grayson #cries for days

9 notes · View notes

cyclone-rachel · 5 years ago

Text

@peskyburgers I couldn’t finish it before midnight, and honestly that is my own fault (I’m going to finish the chapter probably later tonight or early tomorrow I promise) but here’s the first part (around 3,569 words) of the musical crossover chapter in Pay the Asking Price!

Querl, Alex, and J’onn stepped through the portal, finding themselves under what looked like a spotlight, on a sort of raised platform in a room that perhaps could’ve been part of the DEO- there were monitors towards the back of the room, chairs- it looked like a room that saw frequent use. But it had a slightly different aesthetic, and there was no question that this was the home of the “Fastest man alive”, who, based on Kara’s description of him and Querl’s own knowledge of heroes of this century, was Barry Allen.

And, appropriately, he was there to greet them, alongside an audience of three others.

“Kara.” Barry said softly, as the three of them approached. “What happened to her?”

“We don’t know.” J’onn said. “But whoever did it has come to this world.”

“Yes.” Querl continued. “And he is looking for you.”

Once they had all been introduced to each other (and Querl had confirmed that the others with Barry were Cisco Ramon, Harrison “H.R.” Wells, and Wally West, as he’d thought) J’onn took Kara to the STAR Labs medbay, where Kara was placed on a bed, still lost in her own mind.

“Her vitals are low. How long has she been like this?” Caitlin asked.

“A few hours.” Alex answered.

“Right.” Querl said. “And as I mentioned, the same person who did this to Kara… said that he was going to be looking for the “fastest man alive”- who, as I understand it in your time, is you- Barry Allen. So keeping you safe is our priority, along with finding a way to reverse whatever spell he put on Kara.”

“Who are you, exactly?” Barry asked. “And what do you mean by “your time”?”

Well, the line between what time is my own and what isn’t is becoming increasingly difficult to distinguish. It’s a matter of emotional attachments as much as it is of chronology…

“How much do you know about the future?”

Barry stared.

“I definitely know that there used to be a guy who wanted me dead who was from the future, and got stuck here. Ended up being why I got my powers- called himself the Reverse-Flash.” He said. “How far in the future are we talking, exactly?”

“The thirty-first century.” Querl stated. “Specifically, the year three thousand and six.”

“And you’re from that year.”

“Indeed. I am Brainiac 5- Half-computer, half-organic lifeform, all Coluan, and, not to brag, but a 12th-level intellect. My name is Querl Dox, but the Legionnaires just call me Brainy.”

“The Legionnaires?”

“My friends- like the team you have here.” Querl continued, deactivating his image inducer and showing the team his ring. “I’m a member of a group called the Legion of Super-Heroes, dedicated to promoting peace across the galaxy by bringing together representatives from all over the United Planets and defending it from those who might oppose that peace. We were inspired by Supergirl, as well as Superman, her cousin- and I was one of the first members, before I… got myself stuck on Earth, in the twenty-first century.”

Funny, how easy it was to tell my story to a stranger, he thought. I could have said so to Kara all along, that I did not land here by accident… but now I must only make up for my mistake, and prove that I am truly sorry.

“Hey, I’ve seen that ring before.” Barry said, looking at it closely. “While I was traveling to another Earth myself, last year… guess it was from yours and Kara’s Earth all along.”

“A logical assumption.” Querl answered. “Also, while I have stayed here… Kara and I were in a relationship. But it ended shortly before this happened.”

“Oh!” Caitlin said. “She never mentioned she had a boyfriend.”

“It was a recent development.”

“I tell you what, I know enough not to mention the break-up between Barry and, uh…”

“H.R.”

“Sorry.”

H.R. cleared his throat, and Querl continued.

“Regardless of what is going on with the status of Kara and myself, I do not wish to leave her in this state.” He said. “I will help as much as possible in finding a way to help her return to consciousness.”

Alex laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, as did Caitlin.

“We will get her back, I promise.” Barry said. “And I’m sure we can find a place where you could help.”

The last thing Querl wanted was to lose himself.

He could not afford to imagine a worst-case scenario, a world where Kara’s future did not continue beyond this point, where she was trapped in a mind-prison of someone else’s design and subject to unknown horrors, forced into a coma with no way from him or anyone else other than her captor to bring her back. He did not want to go back to National City, and tell the world that Supergirl was dead to them, tell others that Kara Danvers was gone and never coming back. He did not want to return to the future and inform the Legionnaires of something that was quickly setting in, in history- that their heroine would have a much shorter legacy than she originally had, something that could hardly be considered a legacy at all.

And it would be his fault. He would go down in history as the twelfth-level intellect who let Supergirl fall under the sway of someone who was much more powerful than he looked- someone, perhaps, who had fifth-dimensional powers, or something close to them.

That was something he would have to investigate- if he saw him again, before that being found Barry Allen.

“So, what happened to her?” Iris asked.

“An alien prisoner escaped our custody, he… did something to her, put her in some kind of a coma.” J’onn explained.

“Then he disappeared, we tracked him here and followed.” Alex said.

“Okay, but why would he come to this Earth?”

“As Brainy said before, he’s looking for you.” J’onn said, to Barry. “We don’t know why.”

“Okay, well clearly we’re talking about a breacher here.” Cisco said. Querl admired his confidence, how relaxed he looked now in familiar territory- much like himself, before he traveled to the past. Even with Supergirl in a coma, he knew that if both of them worked together, things were going to be okay, and she would come back to them, and their common enemy would fall at her and Barry’s hands.

It was just up to her, to come back in the first place.

“And if there’s one thing I can do; it’s find breachers.”

It may not be so easy. He seemed to be more than just someone who travels between Earths…

But I should tell him that in person.

So Querl left the room, following Cisco, and as he left J’onn placed a gentle hand on Querl’s back.

Querl got the message, the conflicted feeling that had churned inside him slowly subsiding as he turned away from Kara’s unconscious body and left to get to work.

But the others joined he and Cisco as well, as they entered a room much like the DEO’s command center, with just about as many monitors that Querl could connect to.

“So what else can you tell us about this guy?” Barry asked.

“Not much. It's like he just materialized out of thin air.” J’onn said, and though Querl was not a telepath himself, he had worked with one enough to know that even this man, someone experienced in leadership and used to knowing everything about what he went up against, was unnerved by this threat- as innocent as said threat may have looked- and he could relate.

“You mean, like this clown just did?” Cisco asked, gesturing towards one monitor, that indeed showed the man who had arrived in the DEO earlier that day, near a place that Querl didn’t recognize.

Barry clearly did, and before anyone could remind him that he was supposed to keep himself safe, he was out.

“I’m gonna go.” He said, and J’onn followed.

If she wasn’t completely unaware of how she got there, or how she ended up in this dress, at this club, seemingly in an entirely different time period, singing Moon River… Kara would’ve thought she might be living out her dreams.

The only flaw was that, if she could’ve decided, she would’ve wanted her friends and family there to see her sing, and for them to sing with her, or sing their own songs- or whatever else they wanted. But she seemed to be singing to a crowd of strangers.

That is, until she located one familiar face- and at an appropriate time, too.

But she had to finish her song, and she did so, before she got the chance to go backstage again and greet her multiverse-traveling, very fast friend.

Once she did return backstage, though, Barry wasted no time, and they met each other in a tight hug.

“Barry!”

“Hey!”

“Barry, it’s you! Thank Rao!”

The tomato sauce?

But he didn’t have time to think about that, before Kara pulled back and asked him, “Wait, it’s really you, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, this is me, yeah.” Barry said.

“Good.”

“What is- where the hell are we? What's going on?” Barry asked.

“I was hoping you could tell me.” Kara said. “Or maybe explain to me why I just pulled an Audrey Hepburn and sang in a nightclub.”

You were really good. And you look great, in that dress.

She did- it was black and kind of sparkly, and she wore black gloves, with her hair curled perfectly, and multiple earrings… but still, nobody could compare to Iris, for him.

“Maybe we're dreaming?”

“The same dream?”

“Yeah, that's- What's the last thing you remember before you got here?” he asked her.

“I was at the D.E.O.” Kara said, starting to pace around. “They had just brought in an alien prisoner. He got loose, and it was really weird. He had this, um, red-“

“Pocket handkerchief?” Barry guessed.

“Yes!”

“I saw you on my Earth. You were in a coma. Your boyfriend brought you to us.”

Kara stared.

“Brainy?” she asked. “He’s… not my boyfriend, anymore.”

“Then what is he?”

“Complicated. Um… I’m still trying to figure that out. Nothing, right now.”

“Okay then.” Barry said. “Whoever he is said that this guy whammied you- not his exact words- and then he escaped to my Earth, he showed up at Star Labs, I went after him to try and get him to wake you up-“

“And then you got whammied.”

“Yeah.”

“So, where are we?”

“I don’t know. I mean, it could be a parallel dimension, or maybe some elaborate illusion, we just need to figure a way out.”

“I guess I could… click my heels together three times.” Kara said, not entirely seriously.

Barry, meanwhile, looked at her like it could work.

“…Yeah!”

“I was kidding.”

“Okay, all right, well- Come on. Let's-“ Barry started, as they made their way out of the backstage area.

“You're a really good singer, by the way.” He continued.

“Hey, thanks. My sister says I put the "Kara" in "karaoke.””

“Oh yeah, your sister! She brought you here, too.”

“That’s good.” Kara said, heart aching for Alex. She wondered how she was doing now that Kara seemed to be in yet another illusion- just like the Black Mercy, with Kara in a coma that she couldn’t escape from, while Alex was forced to deal with another problem. Kara hoped she was okay, and that she wouldn’t see Alex in this reality, having been “whammied” herself.

But before they could get too deep into any conversation, they ran into someone Barry seemed to recognize.

He kind of reminded Kara of Jack Harkness, in who he looked like, except dressed in a white suit and far more serious.

Whoever he really was, though, he sounded like he knew them too.

“There you are!”

“Merlyn-“

“Who?” Kara asked, at the same time as the mystery man.

“Who?”

“Malcolm Merlyn. Former head of the League of Assassins.” Barry whispered.

“The what of the what?”

“What the hell you talking about, kid? My name's Cutter Moran, I own this club, and both of you work for me.” He said, apparently having heard Barry.

“We what now?”

“I pay you to sing, not pepper me with questions.” Cutter said. “And I hope you got something better in your songbook than what you were belting out up there, blondie.”

“Hey! Don't call me blondie.” Kara protested.

“Hey, look, I don't know who you are-“ Barry started. But he was quickly silenced, as Cutter pulled out a knife and held it dangerously close to his face.

“-Obviously you're someone who's quick with a knife.” He continued.

“You have to excuse my friend. He doesn't think before he talks.”

“Yeah, I had a cousin like that. I had to slit his throat too.” Cutter said, still waving the knife around in a way Kara wasn’t comfortable with, for Barry’s sake.

“Oh.”

“Grady!” Cutter called. “Get these two set up. And nothing I've heard before. I want something original.”

“Barry, I don't have my powers.” Kara whispered. She hadn’t been able to admit it to herself before, but she knew it was true- she felt the same way in this world as she had when she’d stepped onto Slaver’s Moon a few months previous.

“Me neither.” Barry said, as they both waited for whoever this Grady guy was. If he was working for Cutter Moran, though…

It was safe to say that they were each equally cautious.

But thankfully, the person who came up to them was a much more familiar face for Kara, and the tenseness she was feeling almost instantly eased away.

“Winn! Winn, you're here too?” Kara asked, almost giving him a hug, but he put his hands up before she could get close enough to do so.

“Ah! Who's Winn? The name is Grady. I tickle the keys around here.” He said. “Say, you realize how he got the nickname "Cutter," don't you?”

“No.”

“Because he likes to cut people.”

Grady chuckled.

“You ask me; I think he's all talk.” Said another familiar face.

“Cisco!” Barry said, before realizing again that this wasn’t his world, and these really weren’t his and Kara’s friends and enemies by association. “…not Cisco. Hello.”

I pray that, one day, you do not find out how very, very wrong you are, Pablo. Now go do your job.” Grady said.

“All right.” Pablo answered, before Grady left and he turned to Barry and Kara.

“You see, Grady doesn't know this, but one day, I'm gonna be somebody. I'm gonna be somebody, and it's gonna happen right there on that stage. You'll see. I just need my one shot.” He said.

“It's just curiouser and curiouser.” Barry muttered, as Pablo left too.

“Yeah, yeah, it's like "The Wizard of Oz.” Kara said, knowing that they were talking about two completely different stories but going with her own comparison nonetheless.

“Yeah.”

“And you were there, - and you were there-“ Kara continued.

“- Except, it's not really them. They're all playing characters in a-“

“Musical.” Barry and Kara realized at the same time.

Devious, and brilliant.

“Barry, where are we?” she asked, as the two of them stared at each other.

“I don't know.”

The lights came on brighter, suddenly, and Kara and Barry turned to face the guy who’d whammied both of them. He was still wearing his fancy suit, and now standing on the stage, illuminated by the spotlight.

“Well, you know what they say.” He said. “The show must go on!”

“Ah!”

“-The show must go on! Ah, Supergirl, I loved your rendition of "Moon River," such a beautiful song. You were a little flat in places, but I'm willing to let it slide just because you're so cute.”

“Hold on. What did you do to us?

“Oh, nothing much. Just put a little song in your heart.”

Barry scoffed.

“Put a little-Why did you bring us here?”

“I didn't bring you anywhere. We're inside your heads. You created this world. And we got lucky because it could have been a war movie or a a space opera, but thanks to your love of musicals, with the countless times you watched, um, "Wizard of Oz" - with your adoptive parents –“ he said, looking at Kara.

“How did you know that?” Kara asked, even though she had the feeling she wouldn’t find out, as he then turned to Barry.

“And, you, all those rainy nights watching Fred Astaire and Frank Sinatra with Mom. Well, where else would we be?”

“All right, all right.” Kara said, before attempting to punch him.

He disappeared before her fist could connect with any part of him, only for him to reappear right after she pulled her hand back.

“Ooh! Swing and a miss.” He said. “I didn't tell you. I'm not really here. See, I'm out there in the real world. Central City's mine for the taking.”

“Ah. We're gonna stop you.” Barry answered, even if Kara didn’t think he sounded that confident.

“Yeah!”

“You're welcome to try that. If you can get out of here.”

“How do we get out of here?”

“You're in a movie musical. So all you have to do is just follow the-“

“The Yellow Brick Road?” Kara interjected.

“No, the- the script.”

“Oh, yeah. Script.”

“Reach the end of the plot, and, presto chango, you get to go home. One little detail, though, I should mention if you die in here, you die out there.”

“Lovely.” Barry said.

“I've reached my limit with magical creeps.” Kara added, unable to shake the impression that he might be a new incarnation of Mxyzptlk, messing with her life yet again.

“In the meantime, I hope you're both ready to get the rust off those pipes of yours.”

“We're not singing for you!” Kara answered immediately.

“No. Uh, any anymore, I mean.” Barry said.

“Come on, now, maybe just one little - fun opening number just to-“

He took his jacket off, and threw it away, seemingly for no reason.

“Leave your jacket on.” Barry continued, but was ignored.

“-kick things off!”

“Where did it go?”

“Think of your fellow man-“

“Stop that.” Kara said, at the same time Barry said, “It's not happening.”

“Lend him a helping hand-“

“It's not gonna work.”

“We're not singing!”

“Put a little love in your heart…”

The man walked around behind the piano, and as if compelled by magic, Grady began to play, singing along with him- and eventually, Pablo and Cutter joined in, until the whole thing became a full-scale musical number, as Kara and Barry could only watch.

When it was over, he’d disappeared, and Kara and Barry went to look for him, deciding to follow the script- which happened to involve running into some more gangsters, and Barry getting knocked out.

Barry came to with Kara by his side, as they both seemed to be stuck in what looked like a warehouse.

“Barry, are you okay?”

“Oh, please stop yelling.”

“I'm not yelling.” Kara whispered.

“Wait, where are we?”

“I don't know.”

“All right, well, I'm sure everybody at S.T.A.R. Labs is working on getting us out of this.”

“Yeah, I'm glad they brought me to your Earth.”

Kara exhaled.

“Brainy seems like he really cares about you.”

She scoffed, as Barry stared at her.

“Brainy… only cares about himself.” She said. “And keeping his secrets. He lied to me about how he really ended up here- for nine months. And I know it was noble, that he was trying to protect his friends and all by sacrificing his safety for theirs… but I still wish we could’ve been prepared for what he brought with him.”

“Hmm.”

“I can't shake it. I thought it was gonna be something special like what you have with Iris.”

“That is… off track.”

“I'm sorry.” Kara said.

“I asked her to marry me.”

“You did? That's great.” Kara answered, then upon seeing Barry’s face, changed her answer to, “Did she not say yes?”

“Oh, she said yes, but I guess I did it for the wrong reason, and, I mean, I love her, but I was trying to change the future. Then I pushed her away so I could focus on saving her, and it's just a mess now.”

Kara looked up at the ceiling, contemplating her own relationship problems.

“Everything's so simple when I'm running.”

“Or flying.”

“Shut up! Both of you.” Said the man watching them, leaning against a desk with his arms folded.

The man turned out to not be someone Barry knew named Stein, but instead another gangster, who happened to be partners with someone named not Joe West, but rather Digsy Foss. And Kara and Barry, being the heroes that they were- even though in this reality they were only singers for Cutter Moran- ended up agreeing to help find Digsy’s daughter, Millie. Who happened to look a lot like Iris, and had last been seen in Cutter’s place.

After all, there was nothing they could do other than follow the script, and both Kara and Barry agreed that this was where they were going.

That, and it was, as their captors had promised, a matter of life and death.

Specifically, theirs.

Pablo ended up taking them to Apartment 4-B, where Millie was staying.

#papa don't look #peskyburgers #supergirl #karadox #supergirl au #fanfics #supergirl season 2 #kinda #the flash #westallen #i hope you like this nerd #love you #happy birthday

10 notes · View notes