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kocherry · 2 years ago

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⟡ Truthful Adoration in False Illusions ⟡

Pierro x Isekai!Reader

(Part 1/3) (Part 2/3 is here now :>)

I am really nervous to post this fanfic since this is only for my self-indulgence but I decided to share it with everyone. It has been years since I've actually written a fanfic this long.

In all honesty Pierro really did a number on me ever since the Winter Night's Lazzo trailer. Genshin really needs to release more dilf characters huhu. Aaaand this fic is inspired by numerous works but especially two fanfics namely:

Petty Desire by @shumidehiro and Disjecta Membra by @jessamine-rose (Please check them out they're fantastic writers!)

This is only the first half of my Pierro x Isekai!Reader because it'll be a hassle to read 30k words if I combined it all in one post :> Also please keep in mind that this is pre-released characters.

TW: Vomitting, Mental Instability, Mentions of Suicide, Death, Dottore, A lot of Holding Hands

< 15k words under the cut for Prologue, Acts: I, II, III >

⟡ Prologue ⟡

‘I am so pathetic.’

That is what you thought as you were dying in the sea of flames that consumed your entire house.

Perhaps coming back to save those thesis papers isn’t worth it. In hindsight you were a troubled adult that struggled between having a job and getting your own degree. Truly your ambition may not be that big but all you ever wanted is to get a better paying job.

If you had maybe your family would've been prouder of you.

The tears you shed dried up from the fire, your vision slowly made its way to the walls of your room. Your lips weakly smiled at the sight of your favorite character from Genshin Impact smiling down at you. Their hand is directed to your direction as if wanting you to take them.

How you wish you could just do that… you didn’t want to die yet... if only your favorite could save your life. Perhaps being inside the game wouldn't be so bad if you were there.

•••••

Gasping for air, sitting upward, letting out a strangled cough, the sun shined directly into your eyes. Looking around and noticing that this wasn’t a burning bedroom anymore. But instead surrounded by a bright blue sea, legs dipped slightly into the soft waves of the water. Back laid on the grainy white sand, it was more comfortable than dying on your bedroom floor.

First things first... you look at your hands realizing that you weren’t dreaming.

‘How the fuck did I not get any burned scars?’

You place a hand on your cheek then placing them in front of you counting them one by one, “Holy shit I'm still alive...” Then by the spaces between your fingers you had realize that you are not alone.

Your entire body froze at the sight of a silver haired older man with his face covered in half by a black mask. He stood tall, his figure loomed over you and his broad figure blocked your view of the sea. His diamond shape eye stares at you with such intensity that it made the sand you lay in start to melt.

Well, you got your wish to be in Genshin Impact, but at what cost? Well for starters this person in front of you is definitely not Paimon. Wait scratch that thought... he is by far the scariest man you have ever seen in your life.

There is no mistaken it, this person is the Jester, the Director of the Fatui Harbingers.

The outfit he wore isn’t quite different from the trailer. He just didn’t have the Fatui cloak draped around him.

“You're—wait wait don't kill me I'm not a threat!” You yelled at him with a hoarse voice, it’s as if your body is exhausted. Though you were surprised that your elbows could prop itself up.

“Princess (Y/N) I advise that you remain calm as you had just woken up after falling from Starsnatch Cliff.”

The Jester's frightening deep voice startled you badly. Honestly at this point you thought that this was all just a dream. Yet reality starts to sink in when your mind started to comprehend what he just said.

Wait a minute…

What did he just call you?

And did he say you just fell from the god damned famous wishing spot?!

“Princess (Y/N), do you not remember who you are?”

Ignoring the Jester, ran pass by him to see your own reflection in the water.

The reflection of your image became clear, the first thing you saw is that your eyes had diamond shaped pupils. You didn't look like yourself anymore like back in the real world. If this is how you look and if Pierro called you a Princess then there is no mistake that you have been reincarnated into another body.

When you wished to be in the game... Being the Princess of Khaenri’ah isn't what you had wanted. You only wanted to live in the game after seeing the smile of a poster of your favorite Genshin Impact character.

However… seeing that you were in the first spot where the traveler meets her traveler buddy…

You definitely in Mondstadt.

But the one who greeted you isn't of cute floating little girl.

Now you just have more questions than answers. Turning to the Director of the Fatui Harbingers with a pursed lip, you asked: "How many years has it been since Khanri’ah’s downfall?" Your question is difficult to say but the older man seems to be indifferent by it.

"...a century."

‘Shit so I'm 400 years early?!’ You bit your lip to conceal your bewilderment. “I'm afraid... I could not recall anything Lord Jester.” You bat your lashes at him, you didn't pass in feigning innocence but your diamond shaped pupils were wide in fear.

Pierro’s eye narrowed down at you, he certainly didn't expect you to treat him like a stranger. Though he didn't voice out his worries just yet... after all he could forgive this minor inconvenience since you had been in a coma for a while.

“It is understandable that your memories are not intact.” For now, he had seemed to believe (more or less going with the flow) with your lies. “Since you had woken up from the fall, I advise we must go to the camp and examine if there are injuries that needs to be well taken care off.”

The Jester’s show of concern surprised you, his tone shifted into a much softer tone. Somehow you could not believe how utterly different he is from the Winter Night's Lazzo trailer. He is rather calm and gentle so far, although if looks could kill, you would be dead by now.

You gulp a bit, perhaps you ought to just listen to him. But what if the Princess has bad blood with the Fatui? The Jester certainly didn't tell the reason why she fell from the cliff.... what if the Fatui did it because you weren’t of use to them anymore? Would they dispose of you again? Would you be subjected as Dottore's lab rat?

“Alright I guess I can come it's not like I have any other choice, right?” You feel utterly helpless by asking that, it’s as if you had any other option at all.

Though you did remember that some of the Fatui do have compassion. However, that may not be true for most of the Harbingers. But there is no way you were going to die again.

Not on your favorite game.

You place a hand over your chest, eyes determined instead of feeling hopelessness. This was not the moment to show the Jester that you were a weak-minded fool. “I may forget who I was but if I couldn’t remember a century of my life. Since I'm still alive, perhaps I can repay your kindness Lord Jester.” ‘Yes, this is utterly a good idea, offering yourself for the Fatui how dumb can you be?!’ You let the second sentence be an afterthought.

The Jester paused for a while, he certainly didn’t expect that you would be so calm. Anyone would start to break down if they suddenly lost their memories and to find out shortly that your home country, Khaenri'ah, has fallen. Perhaps he had underestimated how you value your nation or that you already had come to peace that the nation would fall someday. After all, the Princess of Khaenri'ah is the one who witness how the sages and King Irmin refused to heed to his warnings.

Either way it didn't matter anymore for what you thought. He could tell that there is no lies when you told him that you couldn't remember the past century you had lived in his care.

“Lord Jester...?” You ask after realizing he went silent for a minute.

The Jester snapped out of deducing what was happening. He certainly thinks that this is too much of a troublesome situation he is in. “Princess, I would have to consult your condition to a medic. I will have the soldiers immediately prepare our voyage back to Snezhnaya. Meanwhile it is on your best interest to cooperate so that you can recuperate from your memory loss.” When he suggested this, all you could do is nod and follow after him when he held out his hand towards you.

Somehow a flash of red encased your vision and the burning wallpaper of your bedroom is in sight. Then a poster of your favorite Genshin Impact character didn't burn among the rest.

Was that really what happened?

Wait why is the Jester the one holding out his hands?

“Or do you need more time to rest in the city of Mondstadt?” He asks though his tone shifted into a softer one, yet gaze is still intense as ever.

But much to your relief his hand is still open for you to take and it would seem your presence is accepted... for now at least.

This time you are able to place your hand to the one holding it out to you. Taking note how warm his hands were as he held yours.

Oh by the way...

This is a story after I died in the real world then getting isekai'd into Genshin Impact but why the fuck is the Director of the Harbingers is the one who greeted me instead of Paimon?!

⟡ Act I: Masquerade ⟡

Masquerade! Paper faces on parade... Masquerade!

Hide your face, So the world will never find you! Masquerade!

Every face a different shade... Masquerade!

Look around - There's another mask behind you!

•••••

The lush green of trees, bushes, and plants.

The river stream flowing from the rocks above.

The Barbatos Statue of the Seven stood tall in the middle of Starfell lake.

And the fake blue sky had the sun giving light to Mondstadt’s environment made the scenery quite beautiful. Truly is a wonderful sight for any daily Genshin Impact player seeing it with their own eyes in real time. Being able to walk into the nation of Mondstadt, the beginning of the game, is truly a good part of this isekai fanfic.

However, the only downside is that the Director of the Fatui Harbingers is the one who is accompanying you. Perhaps it wasn't what you had wished for but besides him... nothing could ever ruin your day.

Maybe except for the fact that you've actually reincarnated into the body of a Princess of Khaenri’ah.

At least together with Pierro you were at least able to travel safely since he avoids monster camps and he even lend you his coat since the clothes when you woke up is quite a mess. If you were alone, you would’ve fought a hilichurl with a rock or a stick then die pathetically.

“Wait a second Lord Jester.” You halt in following after him, there is something on your mind for what he said earlier. “Are we really going back Snezhnaya immediately? I don't even remember living there or even meeting you at all.”

The Jester once again narrows his eye towards you. It's as if he's analyzing the way you would act. Whether it be talking, walking, or even looking in awe with your surroundings. You felt bare in his gaze and yet you didn’t find his constant staring hostile.

He then lets out a deep sigh after realizing that you had honest reactions of having a memory loss. He reluctantly let’s go of your hand, “Princess (Y/N) you were under my care after Khaenri’ah has fallen. Three months ago, you left Snezhnaya for a diplomatic mission in Sumeru. You never had reported back and we traced that you’ve been in Liyue, Inazuma, and finally...” He pauses for a while not wanting to overwhelm you with information.

“Found me in Mondstadt where I fell from Starsnatch Cliff?” You finished his sentence but wanted to ask how did you fall but didn't since the Jester wouldn’t probably disclose that information.

The Jester pursed his lips he knew that lying would be terribly bad for his image towards you especially at this stage of your so-called memory loss.

At this point, you didn't trust him enough to lead you to camp without so much doubting his words. “The Fatui does not take traitors very lightly, you may leave if you wish so. However, beware that there is no place in Teyvat that you could hide.” The harsh glare from his deep blue eyes made you shiver.

‘What the fuck did the owner of this body do?!’

You whisper yell at yourself after hearing what he had said. Out of all the people you could isekai into, it's someone who did the Fatui wrong. And so, without any choice you continue to follow Pierro to the camp.

This time you didn't feel the warmth of his hand on yours.

Although it is kind of weird that he even held your hand in the first place.

‘Maybe he's trying to gain my trust since he thinks can't remember anything?’ You ask yourself that, no answer came into mind of course. In all honesty you wanted to tell Pierro that you were not the Princess. That seems like a bad idea now since the Fatui might misinterpret it as the Princess trying to escape from her crimes against them. Or worst-case scenario they might give you up to Dottore for further examination.

You shudder at the thought.

•••••

Okay maybe you were just being paranoid because you were definitely not treated as a prisoner when the Jester brought you to a Fatui camp. Instead of being put into handcuffs, the soldiers just served you a warm cream stew soup and chicken skewers as a side dish. Then you were also the only one inside the tent slightly shivering but with the coat that the Jester lend to you earlier… at least you feel warm and covered.

Not that you were ungrateful or anything but he literally just called you a traitor and now you were getting away with it?

‘Oh shit, what if he’s just making sure that we would lay low and not attract any surveying knights?’

You stare at the Jester talking to the Fatui agents who were preparing a small carriage and the horses which concludes your disappointment not being able to camp outside.

“Princess, you haven’t finished your food, do you feel ill?” He caught you peeking at the slight opening of the tent, although he immediately ignored you after asking that question. “Get the Cicin Mage, she needs a fresh change of clothes.”

“Wait Lord Jester-”

The tent opened itself but it wasn’t Pierro anymore, it was an Electro Cicin Mage that greeted you as she zips up the entrance of the tent. “Greetings Princess (Y/N), since we are both women, Lord Harbinger permits me to assist you.” She is holding a clean and brand-new clothing, it’s not like what you had seen on Sneznhayan NPCs.

The clothes look like what noblewoman in Snezhnaya would wear. Its shade matches the shade of your favorite color and it would help in making your skin tone shine as well. Although there is a fluffy coat made from a wolf’s fur that would cover your skin.

“Thank you it looks beautiful Miss uh… what’s your name?” You accepted the clothes of course delighted it matches your aesthetic but you also want to know the Electro Cicin Mage’s name since she would be with you on the journey back to Snezhnaya.

“…” She didn’t react and you don’t know what expression she makes behind her mask.

“Oh, are you not allowed to tell?” You ask tilting your head slightly.

“Forgive me Princess (Y/N), I just find it hard to believe that you had lost your memories but you may call me Natalia.” The Electro Cicin Mage replied her nonchalant tone retained.

“I like your name, Natalia.” You gave her a sympathetic smile thinking that she may have known the Khaenri’ahn Princess. “I can change by myself, since I don’t feel really weak but uh thank you for the sentiments.”

Natalia just nodded as she turns around while you change into a much cleaner and fresher clothing. After a few minutes, you tapped her shoulder then unzipped the tent.

“Alright I’m done changing, so when are we leaving?”

The Jester is the only one outside as the other soldiers along with Natalia who hurriedly went to help were still arranging the carriage ride (probably into Mondstadt’s city). “You seem to be more complacent Princess (Y/N), earlier today you did not desire to be return in Snezhnaya.” He raises an eyebrow curious about your sudden desire to leave.

“Well not that I have any choice, plus… my life would also be in danger if I won’t be with the Fatui.” You say that fact first of course but seeing how his face starts to contort into a frown you immediately backed up your poor choice of words. “Oh Lord Jester, you may call me just (Y/N), princess is just an empty title now.”

Your request is simply more personal and despite the fact that may wear the Princess’ mask, you were still (Y/N) by heart. Being called a princess from a nation that has been obliterated is merely an insult to the surviving people of Khaenri’ah, and the Jester is of course one of them.

“Very well (Y/N) we shall sail ten days from now, you may extend your recuperation in my estate in Snezhnaya.” Yet somehow the Jester is indifferent from the request, he focuses more on your well-being. “You need not to call me formally by title, when it’s only just the two us, you may call me Pierro.”

Now that you are actually processing that you were inside the gacha game you had often played…

Did your ears betray you? You certainly are surprise by Pierro’s request as well.

Did your eyes betray you? You saw his lips turn into a soft and small smile but it disappeared quickly as it came.

Did your mind betray you? You just spent five hours in this world with him and even when he calls you a traitor, he does not treat you like one. You would think that he only keeps you because you’re probably a useful character and yet you did not feel used.

It feels the opposite, you were using him just to be comfortable in your isekai experience.

Perhaps you were not the only one parading in this masquerade of lies, the Jester still has not disclosed his relationship with the Princess. If he truly calls her a traitor then why do you receive warm food and getting assigned Natalia to be your personal body guard/helper?

“Shall we head to the City of Mondstadt?”

Maybe the answer would come by another time, you were too busy taking his gloved hand once again.

•••••

9 days later…

Teyvat is quite different in the perspective of being with the Fatui. Aside from the indifferent attitudes of the soldiers, you were at least compensated in being able to explore the City of Mondstadt for nine days now. Of course, Natalia is the one who is your bodyguard or personal assistant? Whatever she is, it’s still kind of annoying how she would always follow you everywhere even staring at you intensely while you go to the comfort room.

At this point you didn’t think much about your privacy, if you did it again… Pierro will beat your stubbornness with his logical expiation about how your health needs to be monitored… blah blah blah you stopped listening to him since you were distracted by the smell of Mondstadt’s local foods.

And speaking of the Jester, he hasn’t shown his face around for two days now and tomorrow is your last day in experiencing Mondstadt and you’ll probably never come back here again. Even though you were satisfied with the tour, you kind of wish you could glide everywhere and collect mushrooms on top of rooftops. Or maybe even blow dandelion on top of the Barbatos statue in front of the Favonius Cathedral.

“Lady (Y/N), you’re spacing out again do you need to rest?”

“Ah no worries, Natalia I was just wondering if I could do a summersault if I could glide from the hand of the Barbatos Statue.”

“That would be unfortunate Lady (Y/N), your neck may break if you fail.”

Natalia’s dark and dry humor is what keeps you sane sometimes, but despite the fact that she is growing into you then vice-versa she still won’t listen to your requests.

“Hey Natalia,” You call out her name softly

“Yes My Lady?” The maid immediately replied.

“Uhm it’s quite alright, you really can call me just (Y/N).” You have been tirelessly asking everyone to drop the lady title and especially to Natalia for the last six days.

“It is within the interest of the Jester that you would be addressed properly. After all you are still recuperating from your fall in Starsnatch Cliff and could not remember the past century that you had lived with him.” And of course, Natalia’s answer is the same as always.

Although you find it odd that the daughter of King Irmin would be with the Jester. From the lore you had read, he didn't gain the favor of the sages and royalty about his warnings.

Ah maybe you two were friends before in Khaenri’ah.

That’s literally the only explanation you could really come up with.

Disregarding those serious topics, at this point you have given up hope that Natalia would call you by your name instead. So, you grabbed her hand surprising her a bit since she has been given strict orders not to touch you. “Let’s go to a tavern, I want to talk to you like a friend I’m quite tired of not being able to communicate properly with anyone who see themselves beneath me.” You gave her a pout to emphasize that you did not enjoy having someone to treat you as their superior.

“I have nothing to share Lady (Y/N), all my life I only have been a Fatui soldier, so you might just be listening to a teacher instead of a friend.” She replied with a deep sigh knowing she would have to give in.

“If I am to learn, shouldn't I be hearing it from someone who lives in Snezhnaya? I do want to learn more about the country that I somehow forgot in remembering…. in your own perspective of course." You were looking at her with puppy eyes hoping she would be okay with your request.

“Very well ask away Lady (Y/N) but no alcoholic drinks.” Natalia replied which made you smile.

•••••

“...and that is why we would always follow the Tsaritsa. She does not need to be alone in the war against the Heavenly Principles.” The way Natalia spoke is as if she had lived through a rough life then having a place in the Fatui. Although she censored a lot of things related to the organization meaning that Pierro might have been the one to order her in withholding the information regarding the Fatui.

Again, you were not interested in them, you were always curious about the remaining three unreleased nations. Snezhnaya presented itself as available to learn so why bother hiding your curiosity about the nation that has a bigger role in the game.

It is most interesting that despite their differences and ailments towards one another they always have one thing that they agree. All soldiers in the game speak highly of their loyalty to the Tsaritsa and Natalia isn’t an exception.

“A most delightful insight Natalia!” ‘Although it got boring and I zoned out a bit but still…’ “I admire your passion to your archon.” Despite being satisfied with your curiosity about the Tsaritsa, you were distracted by more important details. Such as the relationship of the Khaenri’ahn Princess to the Director.

Every time you think about him, your stomach starts to sink in with heavy guilt, that’s what you had noticed for the last nine days. And earlier you did come up that maybe they were friends since he treats you kindly… now your curiosity got the better of you. With a gentle clap you brought Natalia’s attention to you.

“So now tell me more about the Jester.”

Natalia seemed surprised by the sudden shift of your mood and the soldiers that is nearby the tavern doors perked up with the mention of their boss.

Suddenly the air felt colt despite the tavern having a hearth that continuously producing heat.

You could tell you made a mistake by showing that you are aware of your situation as a prisoner. You held both of your hand up, “Ah I see he made sure that I would not run away by being friendly. Ha! I'm fully aware that the Jester is keeping me as a prisoner. Besides if I prove myself that I can cope in this foreign country I can be some use, right? In that way...” Your tone is soft and gentle, which made Natalia flinch, she isn't really good with dealing with such a venomous hiding in the softest expression.

“...I can slap Pierro in the face that he made a mistake in imprisoning me!”

Natalia takes everything she thought of you as a gentle soul with a motherly personality, you were like a wild hilichurl who always have an unpredictable behavior.

“U-Uhm L-Lady (Y/N). you should not talk about the Jester like that!” She stuttered not wanting to get into trouble as she stares at the space behind you that is now occupied by the said person.

“And why I shouldn't I? The Jester is not even here, besides he's busy with the meeting between him and other harbingers." You cross your arms but then saw the maid’s eyes that is staring at the space on your right. You suddenly became extremely nervous, "Oh shit... he's right behind me isn't he?”

“I was always behind you all this time Lady (Y/N).”

‘Oh.’

‘Ohh..’

‘Ohhh…’

‘I fucked up lol.’

Natalia excused herself while you turn around to face the Jester. He didn't seem amused nor does he look annoyed, he just stares at you blankly.

On the other hand, the Jester is actually surprised by your behavior (deep inside his blank stare), it honestly contradicts with how he viewed you as before. Although despite the fact that you are a Princess of Khaenri'ah, he already could tell that you already know your place. You were really going to play hard to get at his attempts of being patient towards you and in all honesty, he really didn’t have any ulterior motives… maybe he has but…

Now you just threatened to slap him, it amuses him.

“Such attitude is unbecoming of a royalty such as you Lady (Y/N).” Well despite his inner thoughts, his expression is somewhat annoyed by what he had heard.

“If you scold me, can you at least drop the formality? I’m definitely not a Lady or anything.” Honestly if they call you Lady (Y/N) again for the nth time, there is always the temptation to slap Pierro for real.

“For some reason the title isn’t really farfetched to the Princess title, I don't know who she is nor do I care to become her.” Although it is pretty convenient that you share the same name as the original Princess.

Indeed, you looked like the Princess of Khaenri'ah who wasn't even mentioned in game. However, there were features that you could see yourself as. If not for the diamond shape pupils you would look no different from the real world.

“Very well, (Y/N), I should have not dishonored the drop of the titles when we are together.”

Your ears perked up by the sound of the Jester's voice saying your name for the first time since the day you met him. “It would seem that I underestimated how much you had remembered. You are more perceptive than I thought. So, I am going to be honest with you…”

‘Wait is he going to really discuss this with a lot of Fatui soldiers and Natalia overhearing us?’

“There are traces that you recently used the Art of Khemia before you jumped from Starsnatch Cliff.”

⟡ Act II: Music of the Night ⟡

Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation

Darkness stirs and wakes imagination

Silently the senses abandon their defenses

Helpless to resist the notes I write

For I compose the music of the night

•••••

You were taken aback from what Pierro had said, the Art of Khemia is now the lead reason to why you were isekai'd to this world.

‘Alchemy that is said to be the biggest factor in the fall of Khaenri’ah. So that means the princess might've been afraid of dying but the question is... did we actually just switch places?’

‘Wait why would she even be afraid if she willingly jumped…?’

‘Fuck her and fuck this situation holy shit…’

You shook your head now is not the time to be distracted. You need to know if you are allowed to investigate if you can go back to the real world. “Wait are you afraid of what I can do? Are you not also waging war against Celestia itself so why be cautious of me performing alchemy?” The questions were already answered because by the look in the Jester’s eye.

It would seem that he disapproves of what you plan to ask next.

“I had not lied to you that you jumped intentionally, you wanted to die, and it is merely your own consciousness that responded to your will to live that made you use alchemy as a last resort.” The Jester seems to fixed on the idea that you know the alchemy. “Art of Khemia is forbidden to use, I do not wish to awaken the Heavenly Principles, at least not yet...”

‘Of course, not yet... the Gnoses would only be collected 400 years from now. Great just great, I might be fucking stuck with him for a while!’ You shifted your thoughts to that part and not the fact that the Princess tried to kill herself.

Despite the desire to actually just tell Pierro the truth about yourself. It would seem that it’s a dangerous thing to do. He hates the Heavenly Principles and from what you had read in the Enkanomiya story quest they were also descenders from another world.

So, if the Jester were to find out that you too are a descender, perhaps your fate would be in the hands of the Doctor. 'Normally I'd say why not since Dottore is hot, but perhaps it's not really a good mindset to simp for anyone in this game.' You cloud that thought not wanting to become a perverted isekai character like the ones you would read in light novels.

“Then can I at least act like a citizen of Snezhnaya? You can assign guards around me if you wish so. I do not want to remain a prisoner by your orders.” You suggested, not wanting to be useless and a piece of decorative prisoner under his care.

The Jester looks at you with a raise eyebrow as he sits on the empty seat beside you. He honestly is still baffled that you were quite sure that he is treating you like a prisoner. His gloved hand reached out to yours placing them on top. His thumb gently caressing your forehand.

Your cheeks suddenly became red from the contact.

“(Y/N). If you feel that you are a prisoner, cease those senseless thoughts. I am merely looking out for your well-being.”

It actually surprises you that he would actually care for your mental health. Not that you could blame him if he would still have such disdain towards the royal family. Then again you wouldn’t complain that much, maybe the Princess is now definitely a close friend to the Jester.

Wait you really haven't asked him about that part, "Err... are we friends Lord Jester? Because you seem to care about me which is odd since you're you... you know?" Not wanting to be rude about his stoic and indifferent attitude, you didn't say anything to make this even more awkward than it already is.

“What?”

“Ah nevermind it's a weird question!”

“If that is how you want to play it, then I shall indulge such foolishness.” The Jester lets out a deeply annoyed sigh, “Do as you please and maybe you can be useful to the Fatui and Her Majesty.”

Some use huh? So, the Jester thinks nothing of you but a tool? Of course, what did you expect from the Fatui Harbinger. After all, knowing their lore so far, Pierro and Dottore were by far the scariest amongst them.

The way they manipulated Scaramouche's life, it’s as if they would disregard all life for the goal of burning the Old World.

You did not think any of this too deeply, once you find out how to switch with the real Princess again. You would be back into the real world and leave this world for good. Genshin Impact is much more enjoyable if you would be thrown to Mondstadt without actually reincarnating in the body of a person who has deep ties with the Fatui Harbinger Director.

‘Wait...’

‘What's Genshin Impact again?’

You suddenly panicked flinching your head sidewards making the Jester raise an eyebrow. ‘Why did I suddenly question my own reality?’ You look at the older man and strained a smile.

“Now I can't wait to get out of this nation and actually see Snezhnaya for real.”

Now if there is anything that the Jester could conclude for today's interaction is that you hide your real emotions through a bravado façade. From the reports of your maid, it would seem that you love to engage in nonsense conversations. You perk up the moment they serve hot chocolate and cookies when you take a break from reading. You who often poke the soldiers randomly while Natalia scolds your behavior.

You are quite a headache to the soldiers...

But the Jester honestly did question himself if you're having an identity crisis or if you did actually lose memories of the past century you spent with him. It troubled the former royal mage because the Princess of Khaenri'ah started to revert to your attitude before the Cataclysm. You were always a curious girl and talkative as well.

So why did you suddenly revert to the Princess he knew before the Cataclysm? Does your memory loss have anything to do with it? ...Or is it something else?

“However, I still cannot allow you to be without any soldier accompanying you just yet. You would need time to recuperate and it is unwise to rush in adjusting to your situation and maybe I shall allow you to pick up your claymore once again.” Again, the Jester talks as if he really doesn’t believe that you have already

‘Wait back the fuck up am I gonna be like a playable character once I can prove to him that I recovered?’

“If I can prove myself, will you finally disregard the soldiers but I’ll have Natalia if it would ease your mind!” You suddenly have a stupid plan but it’s worth a try.

“Pray tell how on Teyvat are you going to prove that you are recovered?” He raised an eyebrow already expected something ridiculous would come out of your mouth.

“I challenge you to a chess match!”

Consider him a prophet, he is right to assume that you are an idiot. You never beat him once before and most especially now that he assumes about your memory loss.

And of course, to prove your worth to Pierro, you challenged him for a match in chess. That is the only reason you could think of, he is an intelligent man after all. He wouldn't be the Director of the Fatui Harbingers if not for his tactical mind.

Although the look of surprise in his expression is something you would relish. Since he didn't expect that the Princess would actually be so bold in threatening him in front of his subordinates.

Perhaps he would believe that you are a descender from another world like how you would often whisper to yourself.

Yes, he can hear you by the way, you are not as discreet as you think.

“Well? Are you not going to accept? You know Lord Jester this is not a behavior I would expect from someone like you. Are you afraid that you might lose to me?” Your behavior can be quite irritating, you know how to pull your strings and by challenging him while the subordinates he borrowed from the Doctor and the Fair Lady that were stationed in Mondstadt are present… it meant he needed to accept.

Gossips are more bothersome than dealing with you.

Pierro didn't break eye contact as he steps forward utterly disregarding the close proximity between the two of you. He notices your cheeks reddening and that made his lips quirk upwards. "Is this how you would beg for my attention? Perhaps it is time that I teach you a lesson for being such a headache." He lifted your chin upwards with his glove fingers, he knew how to make you squirm.

And he succeeded.

You were far more endearing when you try to take control of the situation but in the end, you never were in control.

You were always at his mercy.

“Let us begin.”

Pierro breaks contact from holding your chin, he stands up leaving you alone in the couch. He went to the nearest soldier ordering them to prepare a room for the chess match. While you on the other hand stare at him dumbfoundedly wondering if he is mocking you or seducing you. Either way your face is incredibly red as you grumbled.

“Damn it, here I thought someone like Scaramouche is my type.”

You utter those words out loud and the Fatui solders who heard you started to question if themselves if you were insane. And Natalia’s response is wanting to have a mental breakdown.

•••••

Of course, in conclusion you had lost that chess match.

You did last at least two hours against him until he utterly cornered your white king piece on the corner of the chess board. The empty space had been your downfall, it was a blocked road to make sure the white king is being surrounded by the white pieces.

The match is lost due to the fact you moved your white pawns to save them which made way for his black queen and black knight piece to corner your king piece.

“There is no need to feel defeated Lady (Y/N), you lasted against Lord Harbinger for two hours to which he does recognize that you are recuperating faster than the medic had anticipated.” Natalia spoke up after she notices that you were not paying attention to the bard that is playing in the middle of the plaze, just underneath the statue of Barbatos.

“Aw Natalia that’s the first time I heard you being so nice to me.” You tease your companion, although she did have a point of not being upset. Despite losing the chess match Pierro still allowed you to roam Mondstadt for a few hours since he still has some final business to tend to.

“I am merely stating a fact Lady (Y/N).” She blankly replied, “And I have to ask if you had enjoyed enough of the view of the Favonius Church and the statue of the Anemo Archon.”

There were glares and stares directed at the two of you, yet their gaze would not linger because of the bard that was still performing.‘Oh, right I forgot the Fatui has a bad rep here I guess I underestimated their ability to piss off people in different nations at their century of existing.’ You let out an unbothered hum because technically you were not part of the Fatui, the Princess is. “We’ll go after the bard is finish performing his piece.” In all honesty you just wanted to listen to the ballad since you haven’t really heard it after gloating over your lost to the Jester.

The bard with twin braids dressed in all green and white is looking at you while he strums his lyre and sang a ballad that made your body turn cold.

“You take in anything the ego tells you

Whatever you believe, it will always be a lie to you

The truth is constantly hidden by deceptive mental concoctions

Clear your perceptions from your palette

Be free of egoic contamination to see clearly

Peace emerges from the calm of the mind~”

Your stomach churned at the lyrics of the song, it’s as if it insulted your very mind and soul. The bard’s words were meant to ease the people who were listening. And yet why didn’t it do the same to you? Why were you wallowing in guilt that for some unknown reasons is buried deep inside your consciousness?

Then familiar voices started playing inside your mind, there were two people that spoke, one is your own voice and the other…

Your vision suddenly shifted into a different scene.

“After all these years why have you begun to regret what we had done? Do not forget that you were the one who started this with me.”

“I wish I did forget all of this.”

“It’s time to end these foolish theatrics (Y/N), if you wallow in your delusional fantasies then you will truly succumb to madness.”

“Then so be it, █ █ █ █ █.”

A strangled gasp came out from your throat, bile rose up from your stomach and you fell on your knees with tears in the corners of your eyes. You clutch your chest and heaved, ‘What the fuck was that memory inside my head? And whose name was the one that the Princess had uttered?’ Your ears were ringing and the bile you held back from the back of your throat has finally relieved itself.

“Lady (Y/N)…? Lady (Y/N)…!”

Your vision started to blur but you could still make out the view; Natalia yelling, the Fatui soldiers hurrying to your side, and the bard who played that dreadful song started to walk towards your direction.

A warm comforting wind enveloped your entire body. The pain stops along with your consciousness as the world began to fade in black.

•••••

When you came to be the first thing you observed is the wooden ceiling, the smell of the ocean, and the slight sensation of rocking. Alarmed by the fact that you were most definitely in a ship, you sat up immediately which is a bad decision. Your head started to ache again and bile threatened to escape your mouth once more.

“Fuck…” You curse under your ragged breath. “Is this the consequences of switching bodies with the Princess?”

You murmured as you turn to your side and to see the window that gave you the view of the ocean, the fake sky turned dark projecting the illumination of the fake moon and stars to the water. Once again you stare at your reflection instead of the view, you were still (Y/N) with the same features as in the real world, the only difference is the diamond shape pupils in your eyes.

“(Y/N) you should lay down again.”

The Jester had been sitting at your side and it would seem he was there ever since you were brought into the ship. His hand hovered over your shoulders and yet he refuses to touch you afraid that you might break like glass.

‘Wait…’

‘Did he hear what I just said?’

“I already ordered the Cicin Mage to bring you warm water and soup.”

‘Maybe not since he didn’t question me, I probably just said that out loud inside my mind.’

Since you weren’t responding Pierro never talked again, you just lay back down and did what he told you since your head is still pounding. After a while Natalia came inside to place your warm soup and water just beside the table near your bed to where Pierro sat. Her gaze lingers at your form for a few seconds and excused herself right away to leave the two of you alone.

“Okay this is really awkward Pierro, I think I’m alright now but… I don’t know whether or not I want to immediately move to Snezhnaya.” You broke off the silence first because the atmosphere would become more intense if the two of you would continue to gloat in silence.

“You may scorn me for leaving Mondstadt but we need you to be checked by the finest doctor in Snezhnaya one that could help in your case.”

When the word ‘doctor’ is heard your vision began to change.

“I suppose you have my gratitude. This amount will suffice until my experiment is a success. You were the one who killed this minor god right?”

“A fine observation Doctor, is the blood on my claymore not enough proof?”

“Oh no no, I'm just curious since you do know the consequences of killing a god. The people are plagued with madness already so I thank you for saving me the trouble of finding new test subjects for the archon residue you had collected.”

“Do not test me Zandik. Get to the point.”

“Hahahahah! Hah. It's just amusing that you once called me a monster but are we really so different Princess (Y/N)?”

“No! Do not bring me to that crazy fucker!”

In all honesty you would have just normally tell him calmly but your chest began to constrict and your stomach churned at the thought of Dottore. The memories started to flood your head once again, your arms flail as you smelled the miasma dried blood that is poison to most humans. The memories of the Princess with the Doctor plagued your mind and clouded your logic to respond appropriately.

“I would never let Dottore check on your health, he isn’t the best person to ask that of him. What I meant is the group of doctors that is based in Snezhnaya’s capital.” Pierro replied calmly although his eye widens the second you had yelled at him. “We need to get you examined otherwise you might self-destruct again.”

Your heart skips a beat at the tone of his voice. It’s as if this body of yours is programmed to be flustered at everything he says or do.

“I’ve always wondered… isn’t it a great traitorous sin to betray the Fatui? So why bother yourself with me. Be honest Pierro… I just want to know.” You pleaded because the very fate of your existence in this game depends at the fate of the Princess of Khaenri’ah. You looked helpless in the Jester’s eyes, one that he is not used to seeing you in such state of distress. You were confused and afraid, yet despite the fact that he knew that you often mumble about this world being in a game, what you experienced so far is quite real.

With a sigh Pierro cups your cheek, his thumb gently brush your soft skin. “If you would stop lying to yourself, you would find it easy to believe why I would do this for you and pleaded for your mercy. Had it been up to Her Majesty, you won’t find forgiveness in the land of ice and snow.” His tone shifted from a soothing voice to a cold one. You learned that whatever the Princess had done must’ve pissed of the Tsaritsa and that Pierro would have to obey her had she not accepted his plea.

“Had you accepted our fate had been damned from the beginning we would not have been in this situation. Nevertheless, who am I to scrutinize you when I am partly to blame of what happened between us.” He added as he lets go of your cheek after realizing his touch had lingered to your warmth longer than you had realize.

Although you did not expect that honesty from him.

“Will you play another round with me?” You ask wanting to change the topic.

“Does this game have anything in return?” He asks and… was the Jester teasing you?

“Nothing at all, I merely wish for a companion. Just to get my mind off of things… if you are not too busy of course.” You didn’t want to further analyze the situation besides why would you face the consequences of the Princess if she’s not even you in the first place.

“Very well, I shall indulge your wishes.” He gives in to your request, “However, I am not foolish enough to know that you are diverting this topic (Y/N) when the time comes, I need you to accept what will happen.”

“If that is the case when that time comes when I am to be honest with you, will you listen to me first?” You wanted to clear up this whole misunderstanding about you being the Princess because Pierro had misplaced his sentiments to you instead of her.

“Like I said when you find it in your soul to accept, I will consider it.” He replied, well that was to be expected but you accepted his answer with a nod.

And just like that another game of chess had begun as Pierro brings the board to your bed with a much more relaxed expression. As he arranges the pieces you quietly observed the older man, his expression did not much how his eyes look so desolate as if he is longing for something. Perhaps his homeland? Or is it the real Princess he had miss? It was certainly an emotion you had not expect when the fans and some speculation deemed him as someone who is determined for a war that will end the Heavenly Principles.

“Let us begin.”

Despite your unfortunate experience in getting isekai’d in Genshin Impact, getting to know Pierro is the one you somehow enjoy. So, for now you let your mind wander to this the soft and deft music of the soft splash of the sea waves and the tap of the chess pieces as you both move them around. Although it is Pierro’s presence that you can feel and hear it closing around you.

For tonight you would open up your mind and let your fantasies unwind because in the dark night at the sea, you cannot fight your fate in this world. At least not yet. So, for now you let yourself get immerse in a game of chess and accept Pierro’s presence.

“Like I said before (Y/N), do not let your pawns be your downfall, they are called pawns for a reason so you should at least keep that in mind.”

Your thoughts stop as Pierro takes your white bishop.

“Fine fine… I just can’t help it you know?” You shrugged but despite being nonchalant about it you notive that Pierro means to break the towering strategy before letting his black knight and black rook to corner your white king. “I’m often known as a soft person back in my world and ugh I really need to admit to myself that its okay to use others to win.” Okay maybe you really ought to be careful of your choice in words but this game is making you lose concentrate on what you were saying since your mind is focused on how to turn the tables on him.

“A precise reminder to make sure you will improve. I do take pleasure in playing a game that would mentally challenge me.”

Pierro smirks as he notices that you had taken his black knight with your white queen, at the very least this game should be more interesting than the first.

Thus, the following nights would end with the two of you being entangled in each other and let the darkness of the night be the witness of your chess games until your arrival in Snezhnaya.

•••••

“Is she here Jester?”

Wait was that La Signora’s voice that you just hear outside your quarter in this ship?

The slight fierceness of the sea covered your movement as you slow crept up to the door as you try to overhear them. You gently place your ear near by the door and made sure your feet couldn't be seen underneath the small cracks.

“Yes.” Pierro answered shortly and with annoyed tone if you may add.

A chuckle could be heard from the woman, “I heard that she had gone mad, part of the rumors is because you had her locked up in your estate. Another said that she had defected the Fatui and got caught since Scaramouche had spotted her over in Inazuma. Then... the last speculation is that she is on a mission and that someone had altered her memories.” Every speculation is quite bizarre to be honest, you hadn’t expected that word of your incident would actually be a hot topic in the Fatui ranks.

“Baseless rumors are nothing more than to be their entertainment.” Thankfully it would seem that Pierro is definitely on your side in covering this incident, he did imply that this matter is between you, him, and the Tsaritsa.

“So what has become of your wife then?”

Wait what?

“Such information is not of your concern, now what of the Tsaritsa’s letter?” The topic quickly changed from the tone of his voice, he is not amused anymore.

“Ah we should discuss that without your Electro Cicin Mage here.” Finally, La Signora dropped the topic and two footsteps slowly made its way to the other side of the ship.

Your head started to pound at this new information and your heart started to beat faster out of nervousness. At least the questions you kept pestering Pierro had finally been cleared up via eavesdropping.

‘The dots finally connected…’

‘I’m his fucking wife what the hell?!’

“Lady (Y/N), you heard that didn’t you?” The door opened without you noticing it, Natalia had caught you eavesdropping on Pierro and La Signora’s conversation earlier.

With a defeated sigh you nod at Natalia’s question.

⟡ Act III - Phantom of the Opera ⟡

Sing once again with me

Our strange duet

My power over you

Grows stronger yet

And though you turn from me

To glance behind

The phantom of the, opera is there

Inside your mind

•••••

Zapolyarny Palace is colder than anticipated, the atmosphere is far from the feeling of comforting winters. The atmosphere is tense and the tension is thick. No one could cut it with a knife, a claymore maybe... a really hot claymore.

The cold gaze of the Tsaritsa is something you could feel. Your entire body felt like as if it incases in layer by layer of ice. Nothing could have saved you from her gaze, not even from Pierro.

The Harbingers were summoned, Pierro and Signora are there of course is there since they were the one who delivered you to the Tsaritsa. Pulcinella, Columbina, Scaramouche, and Dottore were all present. The other Harbingers... well that isn't really something you can think about.

“(Y/N),”

When the Tsaritsa mentioned your name, you feel so small and terrified from the calm anger of her tone. “You have deserted your position in the Fatui. The price for your sins would be equal with death. A founding member capable of defection... does death seem like a proper punishment for you?” She spoke with such gentleness yet her void of emotion is what made this encounter unnerving. This is what the Cryo Archon is like face to face she is not like the other archons you had encountered in the game.

“Your Majesty, the Tsaritsa, can I really be guilty of defecting the Fatui when there is no evidence of my sins?”

Natalia had advised not to look guilty or weak in front of the Tsaritsa and the rest of the Fatui Harbingers. You actually don't know why the Electro Cicin Mage would side with the likes of you but thankfully your question did break the tension that was directed towards you. All the Harbingers’ eyes were on you, some is expecting you to fail while the others are indifferent towards you.

Columbina is the only one who is smiling and humming to herself. Although despite her eyes being closed you could still feel her gaze is directed towards you. She's so relaxed as if she didn't care about what's happening right now.

“Hoh hoh. Despite having your memory lost, you seem to have a sharp tongue as ever, Lady (Y/N).” Pulcinella amusingly let out a chortle but his amused tone betrayed the hostility in his gaze.

“Lady (Y/N), your claims do not have enough proof. Still your mission is to have diplomacy to the Akademiya which you had not failed.” Dottore looked at a stack of report papers, “Not only that you've established connections with some officials in Liyue, Inazuma, and Mondstadt. However, you disappeared for five months somewhere in building those connections. Coincidentally, the Jester found you in Mondstadt with no memories.” His tone is amused yet you could feel it mocking what the Princess had done although he does seem impressed by how there zero evidence of her defection. Dottore would at least acknowledge the effort to cover up a big scandal within the Fatui.

“A convenient scenario yet despite the coincidence evidence of your defection has not been seen in the investigation. Quite the cover if I do say so myself.” Scaramouche didn’t hide his distaste towards you and you do wonder what the heck did the Princess do to receive hostility from these three Harbingers.

Well at least they did acknowledge that you were not a traitor but you do recall Pierro accusing you of one when the two of you first met. “So... uh there you go. I technically have not defected the Fatui if there is no evidence.” You shrug your shoulders instinctively feigning innocence… which is technically true in your case.

Although despite the fact that you were about to calm down, the entire throne room suddenly became extremely cold even for your immortal body, you could not endure this cold. Icicles formed around your shivering clothing and your skin started to turn blue. You however did not break eye contact to the throne that stood so far from where you had stood.

The Harbingers all looked at the Tsaritsa, and one by one they left the throne room leaving you all alone. Pierro is the only one who stayed, his gaze never left you. His expression looks hardened and he did not show any ounce of pity, which you are thankful or else you would have looked really guilty in front of Her Majesty.

“Well played Princess of Khaenri'ah.” The Tsaritsa rose and descended from her icy throne. She slowly stepped towards you in a menacing way if you may so add. Your eyes widen in panic as you look at Pierro for help but he remained standing still at the bottom of the throne letting the Tsaritsa pass.

“You have not betrayed me nor the Fatui.”

You gulp as she stood in front of you not even noticing that her arms were slowly moving up to your body. “But the one you had truly betrayed is yourself.” Her tone is more disappointed than angry with only the three of you left in the throne room.

‘I’m genuinely confused…’

‘Does that mean the Princess really did not defect?’

‘Base on what Pierro had said she tried to kill herself... Maybe...’

“Welcome back.” The Tsaritsa's tone became soft as she wrapped her arms around your body. The hug you had receive is cold but it felt so pure of love. It cut you off from the numerous questions that ran through your mind and without any reservation you returned her gesture.

“Forgive me Your Majesty, I really am not the Princess of the Khaenri'ah...” Your eyes widen a second, maybe that's not really the answer you should tell her. “...E-Er uhm only because I feel like I am not her due to my memory loss.”

The Tsaritsa's gaze remains to be soft as she pulls away from the hug. "(Y/N), stop this foolishness you had been gone long enough I do not want you to succumb to madness. "She cups your cheek while holding your hand rubbing your forearm softly with her thumb. "Do not betray yourself again, that is all I would ask." She lets go of her hold on you, her gaze became cold now as she slowly ascended the throne.

Pierro then stood at your side he nods at you as if he was telling you did well.

“You two are dismissed.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” You and Pierro then place a hand over your chest bowing slightly to the Tsaritsa.

On the way out of the throne room and back into the halls of Zapolyarny palace. Pierro poked your index finger slightly, you turn to him and he looks relieved that you hadn't really made the Tsaritsa angry. Pursing your lips slightly, the look he gave you is something your parents never gave to you.

The look of someone being proud.

Hugging him is out of the question instead you held out your pinky poking his hand back. In return his own pinky intertwined with yours as the two of you discreetly held each other.

At the first few seconds it felt nice but panic started to slowly sink in... ‘Is this really okay to go on even if I'm not really his wife?’

Then you look at his face, he had a really cute expression right now. His cheeks were slightly painted with a small blush. So, for now you don't think about the consequences and just let Pierro escort you to a carriage ride back to his estate with your pinkies intertwined.

•••••

“Did you ever regret it █ █ █ █ █?”

“Regret what?”

“What we became.”

It’s that voice and name again, the one that plagued you on Mondstadt up until the journey back to Snezhnaya. You purse your lips wondering who that mysterious person was.

“Lady (Y/N)? You're shaking from the cold.”

Thankfully Natalia’s voice cut you off from drowning in your own thoughts, ever since the bard playing a song about self-deception and the Tsaritsa claiming you to betraying yourself hit the nail and buried it deep inside your mind. You wonder why those words affected you so much when it was all for that Princess.

“Dear me it would seem that you had a hard time in your journey Lady (Y/N).” A small elder man with an elf like ears and moustache came in with servants who prepared a tea set that seems to be locally made and it looks really fresh. “Have some tea just to calm you down.”

The encounter with the Tsaritsa had passed by a month and Pierro suggested to have you work again, it was only simple work. Organizing the files in the mayor’s office while he would temporarily take over the heavy burden for you. Pulcinella wasn’t amused by the fact that you would be so casually taking over his work for 5 months during your disappearance.

To him it’s not about the power hierarchy but how serious were you in helping Her Majesty improve this nation that keep enduring hard these past few years.

“Pulcinella, you don’t have to be so friendly towards me just because I lost my memories, I can tell that you spite me because of what I have done.” Honestly the fandom doesn’t really justify the grandpa vibes from this specific harbinger, he is the total opposite of a kind and gentle grandfather that community had concluded.

“Hoh. Perceptive I see, I will give it to you Lady (Y/N). I really could not forgive that you are utterly weak minded. You once said that being a leader required a mind of steel and a stone heart to overlook the carnage, after all an empire could not be built without blood.” The elderly man stated his tone is rather venomous but you maintain your composure, despite the fact you absolutely intimidated. He may be short but between the two of you, you’re the one who felt small.

‘Why the fuck would the Princess say that? Now this little shi-old man isn’t giving me a break.’

With shaky gulp you inhale the tension and exhaled deeply to let out your nervousness, “Then if I maybe so bold Pulcinella, how about you would take over the position from me?” That was the very thing that Pierro had suggested from the start, give Pulcinella what he wants and he will open his mind to reconsider his thoughts about your competency.

In all honesty you absolutely do not want to involve yourself with the Fatui but for Pierro you really have to endure it since he’s your provider and caretaker. This is the least you can do to take a lot of workloads from his shoulders, and since the Princess isn’t here to decide for herself is she still wants to be the mayor then it’s up to you.

You smile at Pulcinella, sarcastically. “Oh, make no mistake I am not affected by what you had said, from the five months that the Princess had gone you have done well in managing Snezhnaya. Perhaps it is time that I would retire from such position and focus on more important matters… behind the scenes.” Although you are genuinely impressed that he shouldered the burden of being a mayor. And from the Winter Night’s Lazzo, a harbinger did call him mayor and it definitely wasn’t the Princess.

“And what are these matters?” Now the Rooster took the bait from your words.

“Rooster.” The deep baritone voice surprised you, only you the rest were already aware that he had entered the office. “Have you ever read the accounting-”

“Damn it Pierro!” You smack his arm.

The servants under Pulcinella were utterly horrified that you just slapped their superior’s boss meanwhile Natalia had already seen that coming. You were truly unaware that he had already came inside the mayor’s office when you asked the Rooster to take over as mayor. He is actually impressed that you had already spot the problem, although he did already spot it a few weeks ago but he does admit that he is far engrossed in searching for you.

And this problem is just perfect for you to prove yourself to the one who is most passionate about Snezhnaya’s improvement and who worships the Tsaritsa devotedly.

“-as I have said, the accounting is poorly managed, what can you do to recuperate from the billions of mora that we had lost these past decade?” He ignored your slap since it didn’t really hurt him, besides he does admit it amuses him that he can sneak up on you like this. Garnering such adorable expressions truly makes his day better.

Pierro does make up with him surprising you with presence by handing out the official documents that would prove that Snezhnaya is on the verge of bankruptcy.

“Please don’t surprise me like that…” You grumble as you grabbed the accounting records from Pierro, “Look this right here the numbers don’t add up, why should we fund Dottore’s laboratory anyway? As far as I am concerned his experiments have done nothing but take mora and results don’t even compensate for what we have lost.” You pointed at the numbers of mora, which would probably can pay your student loans and fund your family for at least a century.

Pulcinella does pay attention at least and now you have finally hooked him, least to say that being the mayor won’t be your problem anymore.

“The noble families in this country should be contacted, the taxes of the people have not seen the light of day in the north and eastern side of this country.” You continued while he takes the papers that would be under his care to solve.

“And with your built connections in Liyue Harbor and Ritou we could recuperate millions of sums.” Pulcinella finally connected the dots of your disappearance, although, you really don’t know what happened to the Princess predicting this situation. It was as if she truly is ready to pass on the mantle of the mayor to Pulcinella. Perhaps she was really ready to… you shook your head and gave Pulcinella the second main problem of the bankruptcy, “Then we cut off Dottore’s funding for a while, if he wants his research to be funded then we should expect more results rather than more hypotheses.”

“While I do this, Pulcinella can we both trust you in handling things here in Capital? And if those noble families hold back the taxes and refuse to give us the real documents…”

“Ah it would seem that I had made a mistake in being bitter towards you Lady (Y/N), you truly do know how to manage this country.”

“An honorable job such as being the mayor is something I would give up just so we couldn’t overlook Snezhnaya’s built up of corruption. The Fatui is indeed establishing its influence but can we really stay in power when Snezhnaya is going against itself?” Okay your mouth suddenly went on autopilot because what you have been saying so far… it’s as if you already know how to handle Snezhnaya’s economic problems.

“And what of the blood that will be spilled?”

Now the tension is back again after the Rooster asked an ominous question, Pierro gave him a warning look but of course he chose to ignore it.

“Why would there be a need for bloodshed?” You asked the elder man back unaware of the tension.

Your response made Pulcinella close his eyes, though he does seem disappointed but nonetheless he finally got what he wanted. “Hmm. I can overlook this naivety for once since your memories are lost, you may not have them yet but that doesn’t mean your compassion to those who doesn’t deserve it should stay.” He leaves the room to start working with the position you passed onto him, the servants and soldiers inside the room followed after him.

“Leave us.” Pierro ordered his subordinates and so they all left including Natalia.

Now that it’s only you and Pierro who were left, you turn to him a bit worried. “Did I say something wrong Pierro?” You look absolutely helpless compared earlier that held a really suave and dignified aura.

“What you had said, can it be really resolved without any people being killed?” His tone is soft as if crossing through a fragile bridge, he notices you starting to panic. When your hands start to shake and your knees buckle that is the cue that you would start to shut down. “Breathe… and think carefully (Y/N), is bloodshed truly the answer?”

The palm of his gloved hands were on your shoulders, he rubs them gently knowing how affected you can get when it comes to death. The way he rubs your shoulder blades with such tenderness and slowly unknotting the tension made you calm down.

“No… but it can be avoided…” You finally answered him.

“And how are you going to do that?” He urges you to go on.

“Talking… chatting…” You purse your lip as you had been enlightened. “Negotiation! Scare their fucking asses!”

Well your answer finally came through the acceptable answer that he also have thought of, “Remember not to use profanities when you do it, intimidation often comes from how well you would handle yourself. Though you are aware that words won’t work if you do truly want to save Snezhnaya from bankruptcy.” Talking to him feels so natural at this point, whether it be casual or work conversations you find comfort in hearing his voice. Although you were still quite reserve with him trying to get close to you, especially now that you found out that the Princess is his wife.

It is wrong to lead him on believing you were her.

“Of course, but I don’t know if I can do this alone… sheesh! We truly need a banker.” You replied jokingly, you were walking to the door not really wanting to be alone with him. “Well, I guess we should go now, right? You are still needed in-”

You mentally cursed for being too slow.

Pierro’s strong grip is wrapped around your wrist, he was so close to you that you could feel his chest on your head. The size difference between the two of you is quite evident when he stands so close, his hand trapping yours made it hard to leave the room. You didn’t dare look at his direction and close your eyes letting out a shaky sigh then faced him tilting your head, “Do you need something?”

He chose to ignore your question, “Since you cannot recall, we used to work together when the Harbingers haven’t formed yet. Shall we do this together once again?”

You nervously let out a chuckle, this wasn’t supposed to be your role to this world, you only helped Pierro as a thank you not as a permanent job. Even if you were starting to look at him in a different way, you were not the Princess of Khaenri’ah. You were not his wife.

This time instead of holding his hand, you let go of it but his grip became even tighter and looks of remorse is evident on your facial expression. “But uhm what if I am not really your wife? What if I’m not the Princess you once knew? What if… her soul is no longer in this body?” There you finally said it but it was more of a hypothetical question rather than being firm with the real thing.

“That she believes she’s in a different world reincarnated into her favorite game? Do you truly still believe in that false illusion?” The more you had tried to avoid his voice the more it starts to invade your mind.

“Isekai? Reincarnation? That is ridiculous and it definitely doesn’t seem to be well written base on its title.”

“It isn’t so bad and besides I think it’s funny that the title of this novel is ‘This is a story after I died in the real world then getting isekai'd into my favorite board game but why the fuck is the Demon Lord who greeted me instead of a cute fairy guide?!’ It’s creatively eye catching.”

“I would close my eyes.”

“Ugh come on don’t you find it funny?”

Now it was clear who the mysterious person was during your relapses, it belonged to Pierro.

Now you were utterly helpless from this confrontation, Pierro started to believe that you were faking your memory lost. It was all the same from everyone, including the Fatui subordinates, Signora’s gossip, and the Tsaritsa’s words that you truly had betrayed your own mind.

“What?! I’m not crazy Pierro! I am not the Princess! I’m just (Y/N)!” You cried loudly not wanting to loosen your grip on your own reality, “I’m a corporate worker who is underpaid while balancing my life in getting my master’s then-”

“Died by saving your thesis paper and then reincarnated into your favorite game. I know I have read the novel you had bought in Inazuma.” Pierro’s calm angry tone scared you now… and what’s even scarier is that your vision started to change and this time the visual is clear as day on who you were talking to.

“Don’t you have a diplomatic mission in Sumeru?”

“Ah… well I just want to see you one last time my dear husband…”

“Is that why you came to annoy me so late in the evening? You know you could have just asked, we’ve been married for decades now and you’re still shy as ever (Y/N).”

“Yeah… I know… I just really wanted to see you, █ █ █ █ █.”

“█ █ █ █ █! you’re hurting me…!”

When you yelled his real name, Pierro froze like deer in headlights, he realizes that fragments of your memories were slowly slipping through the alchemy marks that you had planted within your mind. His grip is still tight and you began thrashing around and yelling at him to let go. You sounded so confused and hurt that he is tempted to let you go but he already had enough of your lies and his patience is grounded to zero.

“We will return to my estate and continue this conversation there.” He declares since you were starting to get hysteric.

How could you not go hysteric? This man confused your mind and the reality you had believed in, you weren’t so sure about what’s real and not. It didn’t help when he started to have a vice grip on your wrist on which you are sure that it will bruises.

“I said let go!” You slapped his cheek unaware of the blue wisp on your palm hitting the right side of his face as his mask is thrown on the ground.

Red started to drip on the marbled white floor of the office, your eyes widen as you saw the cut on Pierro’s cheek. The blue wisp of your abilities is the one that created the wound, you look at your hand and saw wisp still lingering. Then you look at Pierro again his reaction made your heart dropped from what you had seen

An expression filled with so much grief, anger, and pain. Before the older man could say anything you ran out of the office afraid of the consequences of your actions.

And though you turned your back on him.

You knew he would always plague your mind from this day on.

•••••

You absolutely underestimated Zapolyarny Palace, when you ran away from the mayor’s office you were surrounded by dark hallways that had soldiers stationed in each door of every room. They seem to ignore you which is good because you clearly could not deal with anyone else especially Pierro. They all think that you had gone mad, you weren’t… but are you really sure about believing in your own reality?

When you ran away from the mayor’s office, your feet dragged you to a secluded garden nearby, the bushes were all painted in white snow and the flowers never grew in this area. You realize that your stamina still hasn’t been depleted and physically you were still okay but mentally? You were absolutely exhausted by the events that transpired as you squat down letting your knees sink down the soft and cold bite of snow.

“Fuck…” You curse under your breath, “Fuck fuck… they all think I’ve gone mad.”

“Hah. I suppose that makes two of us then.”

Dottore’s voice didn’t even startle your exhausted form. When you raise your head up this one is the same clone back in the Tsaritsa’s throne room and in your vision, the Omega Build, you could tell from the beak mask and clothing. Although beside him is Scaramouche who remained silent as he is disinterested in whatever was happening.

You look up to the two of them, “Why are you still not leaving?” Honestly you didn’t want to talk to anyone who doesn’t think you’re insane.

“As much as it is not my business to meddle, I am just curious to why you would continue to deny that you are living in a fake reality of your own making?” Dottore genuinely is curious but his lack of empathy somehow made it easy to talk to him.

“That’s the very thing I don’t understand Dottore, why do you all assume that I am the Princess and not some poor soul that had switched places with her?!” You were starting to get riled up again because even Pierro hadn’t believed in you even though back in the ship he said that he would listen and trust you… and yet he didn’t, you do understand his reaction but when he made you start to question your own memories that was when you begun to get upset.

“Switch souls…?”

Dottore began to laugh.

And you were on the verge of tears.

“Amazing! This is truly a product of your own research except you have not reached for the conclusion of your hypotheses because you had failed. To put you out of your misery Lady (Y/N), the answer has already been given by Her Majesty, the one you had truly betrayed is yourself.” Dottore had been lost to his own ramblings now and had bark insults at your pathetic crying form, “Well, I could not blame you for completely living in ignorant bliss, you always have a fragile soul despite being the fiercest Harbinger that we have. Unlike the Jester he accepted that he no longer had any ounce of humanity left in him and you on the other hand, continues to deny that you had long fallen from grace. And, proof of your denial is your own belief that you had truly switched places with a poor soul from another world.” Dottore dropped something on the snowy ground, it made a small crater but the white color of snow turned red.

“Here I wanted to give this back.”

For your dignity, you swallowed the scream that you want to let out and the object became clearer in your vision. “This is…” The item is the container of the archon residue that you had seen in your elapse with Dottore being there. “The minor god that I had killed and those people that I purposely turned my back to so that you may be able to use them.”

Tears finally streamed down to your face as the memory of the carnage the Princess of Khaenri’ah, who’s real identity is none other than you, the one who put fake memories in your mind to forget the sins of what you had done for the Fatui, for Her Majesty, for Pierro, and for your vengeance.

Dottore crosses his arms looking down at you with a smirk “And there you go, the first step towards the answer, acceptance.” In all honesty he is proud to have made you realize to the answer you had been looking for. Although he does not look forward if Pierro ever finds out about this incident.

“Enough already Dottore, you have taken too much time of your schedule to bother the Jester’s wife, shall we proceed to your laboratory?” Scaramouche asked a bit irritated that his precious time is being eaten by a woman he doesn’t even know and she started to cry because of Dottore.

“Ah yes of course but this is basically a service to Her Majesty and the Fatui,” Dottore is surprisingly honest with his answer but it did give him satisfaction he finally had snapped the hanging thread of your fake memories. “Scaramouche you may have just joined the faction but Lady (Y/N) is not just the Jester’s wife, she currently holds the title of the Second of the Fatui Harbingers.”

“I see, then if that is the case Lady (Y/N), the solution to your problem is something you already have passed through. Start from the beginning and it may just help you.” When Scaramouche had said that, you stopped crying and looked at him.

Although he and Dottore were already walking away from you.

“Is your advice a reference in your contribution in ending the Raiden Gokaden?” Dottore asked with a grin.

“And yet I did not get the results I wanted, the Electro Archon simply didn’t care, this isn’t about me Dottore… I am just giving Lady (Y/N) a better advice than yours because if she recovers from losing her mind then I don’t have to take orders from you.” Scaramouche scoffs at him clearly annoyed by his entire existence.

“Indeed, what an insight Scaramouche, would you like a lollipop for that?” Dottore teased.

“Eat shit.” Scaramouche then pointed his middle finger at the Doctor.

As soon as they were out from your view, you stood up from the snow, you let your tears dry on your cheeks as you held the bloodied container in your hand. Pursing your lip, you wonder what really had transpired for you to even think about erasing your own memories and replacing them with ones that you had once read in a novel from Inazuma.

Pursing your lips your grip of the bloodied container started to grow stronger and the glass started to crack as you angrily contemplated on what to do from now on. A hand is place over your own, smaller hands, one that belonged to the first friend you had made in your entire fake isekai journey. You turn to Natalia and smile, at the very least someone is at your comfort for today’s events.

“(Y/N)?” She didn’t use the lady title and her tone is softer than you had remembered. “Forgive me for not intervening, I thought by having Dottore speak to you it would benefit your mind, if you linger in living through this fake memory. Your entire brain would collapse and you would be nothing more than a hallow shell.” She rubs her thumbs over your forehand as she lets out a soft hum that somehow soothes your disturbed thoughts and feelings slightly.

“Natalia… Do you truly think that I have gone mad? I… I can’t even remember being the Princess of Khaenri’ah nor do I even can’t stop believing that I am an isekai character.” You grit your teeth in frustration.

She softly pats your hair, “I do not think you have gone mad, you were overwhelmed with emotions of vengeance and guilt, with a delicate heart as yours… only you have the answer to why you had replaced your memories.”

“Scaramouche said that I should go back to the beginning…” Of course, it is obvious that the Jester is the one you had first encountered. Every question and answer all lies anything related him. “Pierro… I need to go to him…” The beginning of your journey is Pierro and you were not an isekai’d character but truly the Princess of Khaenri’ah who finally remembered that you deliberately tried to kill yourself and since that won’t work you somehow re-wrote your memory.

No wonder Pierro was so upset earlier, now you feel like the asshole because you were the one who got scared then slapped him then ran away. You feel deserving of Dottore’s cathartic way of letting you accept the reality.

“Right answer but wrong action, now are you really sure you would sing a duet with him once again?” Natalia asked in a sing sang tone which is now completely different from his monotonous voice.

“If he would have me…” You do wonder if he can truly forgive you, the man had gone through enough and he has a mentally ill wife as his partner unfortunately. Although it is odd that Natalia knows a lot about the situation, you narrow your eyes at her. “Wait Natalia, how do you know so much about this situation I thought you were just an Electro Cicin Mage?”

Natalia then smiled for the first time, it was an unsettling smile but somehow it didn’t look intimidating. As the matter of fact her smile is somehow comforting as she pulls the hood of her uniform and removed her mask. The true identity of Natalia the Personal Assistant is another Fatui Harbinger…

“Columbina.”

“I truly had missed you dearest (Y/N).” The shorter female tackled you into a hug, she rubs her cheek onto your chest as she lets out a hearty giggle. “Forgive me for lying but your husband didn’t want me to reveal myself to you yet so I became your body guard~” Now it makes sense why Pierro is so confident in letting you roam Mondstadt with minimum soldiers.

Columbina then lets you go and she closes her eyes still smiling, “So now that you’re finally aware of your situation would you like me to return your memories?”

Your breath suddenly hitches in anticipation, “You could do that?” Natalia… Columbina… either way she is truly a dear friend of yours.

“With the help of Dottore’s child segment Zeta, you were able to withhold your memories in the archon residue container. I am able to slowly put your memories back so you won’t get hurt.”

Your eyes widen in surprise because you never thought that the Doctor actually gave you the memories back by making you cry of course. Now that you think about it, you didn’t feel the intent to murder him anymore but instead thank him. Oh, how ironic it is that he just showed the actual traits of a doctor towards you.

Turning to Columbina you gave her a determined look, you wipe your tears once more and let out a really heavy exhale. “Please return everything to me my dearest songbird.” When you had said the nickname that you would often call her, she then slowly turn the container around as small purple colored wisp started to seep through.

As the wisp surrounded your head, you close your eyes and readily accept its content. Under the false illusions of your lies, Pierro had never given up his adoration for you and your response to it would also be the same. You would finally stop giving up on yourself.

•••••

Now you were back from the start, to your real life as the Princess of Khaenri’ah, the memories of your childhood to your coming of age had all start to come through like a fast wind. It’s as if these memories were but a fraction of your long life, after all you had spent 100 years in the Fatui and 23 years as a royalty.

Now face to face with a younger Pierro who wore the suit of a royal mage. He brought your hand to his lips, “Truly you have a compassionate heart Princess (Y/N) thank you for always checking up on me on my lowest days.”

“Hush now Grumbles.” He grunted at your poor choice of nicknames but accepted your hug happily he buried his face on your hair inhaling the scent of pine and mint with a tad mix of strawberries and custard since you had made him some pastries, “We’ve been friends since my coming of age so I would always come by and check on you, okay?”

The grumpy mage couldn’t help but smile at that, what is love without friendship first. Had it not been to you, he surely would be wallowing in self-pity and anger by himself after being ridiculed endlessly by the sages ever since he had failed to stop them from doing something that tore away the veil of sin.

You always had hated those assholes from your father’s council anyway, even Rhinedottir is insufferable as she would not stop creating those monsters. Your friend had been your saving grace from this insufferable castle, at the very least the citizens of Khaenri’ah were not all obsessed with technology but more inclined in everyday lives such as baking, sewing, reading fictional literature, or even gardening.

Those kind of things is what you want to preserve in Khaenri’ah and the grumpy mage is the one you wish to do this with. “Hey there’s something I’ve always wanted to tell you...” You place both your hands on his chest while your cheeks start to heat up from the close proximity between the two of you.

“What is it Princess (Y/N)?” His eyes slowly soften up when you called him by his real name.

You purse your lips finding it hard to say those three words to him, yet you would not end this day without confessing your love for him “I-”

The door of his quarters slammed opened, a tall blonde man with blue eyes holding a longsword came, his expression is panicked and extremely troubled.

“I have been looking everywhere for you Princess-Mage an impeccable timing we need every warrior we can get to protect the people!” He barked out orders his voice is shaking from fear.

“Dainsleif! What is going on?” You ask as your claymore materializes on your hands.

“Twilight Sword who is attacking the people?” The mage asked as well as his catalyst also materializes as it hovers above his hand.

Dainsleif grit his teeth, his eyes were wide open as if he had seen the most horrifying sight of his life. The Twilight Sword is one of the strongest warriors in this kingdom and to him looking so afraid… you were beginning to know the reason for his fears.

“The gods… they have come to destroy Khaenri’ah.”

~ End of the First Part of Truthful Adoration in False Illusions

A/N:

I would like to apologize for scamming everyone who thought this was going to be an isekai reader but it's actually a mentally illed princess reader who could not deal with the fact she had done horrible stuffs for vengeance against Celestia.

In all honesty isekai was really the plot for this fanfic but I changed it due to the fact that isekai reader wouldn't really connect with Pierro emotionally unlike Princess of Khaenri'ah reader whom he already had known for five years before the Cataclysm.

If you guys want to read Act IV: All I Ask of You it's available on AO3 now but I'm holding it back since I haven't polished Act V, Interlude, and Epilogue yet.

I truly admire if you guys actually read this whole thing and enjoyed it, I feel like I'm such a messy writer since its been years since I posted a fanfic ;u;)

Anyways I hope you guys enjoyed the first part of this fanfic! <333

185 notes · View notes

justsomeoneunordinary · 4 years ago

Note

angst 3 for winteriron pretty please

Hi Ava, thank you so much for sending this prompt in. Finally I finished it, after… 3 months. I also used it for the WinterIron Week (which I am so much behind for, it’s not even funny). I still have no clue if this really warrants as ‘angst’, cause it feels more dull to me than angsty, but oh well. It is what it is.

Now, the whole organizational stuff (aka the pain in my ass):

On Crossing Paths

Prompt is from this list: “You promised you’d stop drinking.” — “And you promised you wouldn’t hurt me!”

Day 3 of @winteriron-week: Angst & “But I did it”

And since this got way out of hand anyway, combined with:

Day 4 of @winteriron-week: Tony needs a hug (Bucky too) & Forgiveness

(Nvm, I wrote something for day 4 anyway)

M, 5.2k, Alcoholism TW, Angst (-ish), Canon Divergence, Tony Feels, Emotional Hurt, Falling In Love, Hopeful Ending | AO3

(Day 1 / Day 2 / Day 4)

—

Tony meets James for the first time in a seedy bar in Brooklyn on the night of December 17th, 1991.

Twelve hours before that first meeting, he listens with deaf ears to the police telling him his parents died in a car accident.

Ten hours before that first meeting, he cries on Obie’s shoulder while Obie pats him on his head and tells him “everything would be fine”.

Seven hours before that first meeting, he speaks to Rhodey on the phone and makes him promise not to jeopardize his military career by showing up without permission.

Five hours before that first meeting, he drives to the scene of the accident where he screams into the godforsaken void from the top of his lungs, curses Howard and then has a mental breakdown in the middle of the street.

Two hours before that first meeting, he finds himself driving through the city with no destination in mind until he decides that he needs a drink.

Or rather ten.

Which is how he ends up at “Cheryl’s” where no one even bats an eye at the face of today’s headline and sole heir of a multi-billion company entering the bar. It’s too dark inside, the strong stench of sweat and smoke penetrates his nostrils on the spot, and Tony is pretty sure that the mold behind the counter is just about to build its own ecosystem.

He orders whiskey and gets a Jack. Not exactly what he wanted, but it will do.

There’s a glint out of the corner of his eye that gains his attention and when he turns, his gaze falls on the metal hand of a man with the saddest eyes he has ever seen. What once must’ve been a wild grey is now the lifeless stare of someone who’s been haunted by ghosts for a long while. A frigid expression on a pretty face framed by strands of long brown hair and cherry red lips made to be kissed. Wrapped up in an outfit that might as well be from a BDSM scene.

Tony likes what he sees. Very much so. He imagines dragging the guy into the bathroom, pulling those tight leather pants off and giving him the best blowjob of his life. It certainly would take his mind off other things. Like the fact that he’s an orphan now.

So he does, what he does best: he flirts. But this time it’s a challenge. It takes him three attempts until the stranger takes his eyes off the wall and looks at him, a tiny frown between his brows—but no other sign of acknowledgment.

“Finally got your attention, Handsome! You’re not much of a talker, hm? No worries, I can talk for both of us.” Which Tony then does. He talks and drinks and flirts—a wink here, a featherlight touch on the guy’s biceps there—and drinks and speaks of DUM-E and Rhodey and all their pranks during MIT, watches with fascination how that dead look in the stranger’s eyes slowly forms into curiosity, beams in delight when he gets a snort out of him, drinks some more, slides closer with each drink and puts a hand on his thigh, slowly caressing it up and down.

“You got a name, Handsome?”

The guy seems to hesitate for a while until he answers in a deep, raspy voice, “James.” Tony is pretty sure it’s a lie, but then again—he doesn’t need to know the name when he’s got his mouth full of dick.

“Well, James, you can call me Tony.” He flutters his eyelashes and bites teasingly on his lower lip before he drops his tone and asks, “So… your place or mine?”

After that Tony remembers the night only in a blur. He remembers passionate kisses in a dark alley, hands wandering everywhere, rising heat and grey eyes shimmering in pure lust. He remembers a hotel room and soft sheets and strong arms around his waist.

And then he wakes up, the taste of alcohol and James still lingering in his mouth.

When he opens his eyes, he finds James sitting in the chair at window, instead of lying in bed next to him, his entire focus solely on Tony. It should be creepy, but James’ gaze merely comes from curiosity, as if Tony was a machinery whose workings he is still trying to understand. It’s kind of endearing.

Tony gets up, disinterested in getting dressed, and pours himself two fingers of whiskey at the bar.

“This your breakfast?”

Tony grins smugly at the hoarse tone of James’ voice. “Nah, that’s just my mouthwash,” he answers and winks at him over his shoulder.

He eyes James for a moment while sipping on his drink, and then adds, “There’s a diner not far from here. Serves the best blueberry pancakes in all New York, I can vouch for that. What do you think, want to accompany me?”

It’s not Tony’s usual style. Otherwise, one-night stands will remain exactly what they are for him: one-night stands. But James has something that fascinates him immensely. It’s not just the overdeveloped prosthesis that can impossibly be on the market anywhere, and makes Tony wonder where he got it from, but also that look in his eyes of someone who has seen way too much. This emptiness that suddenly becomes filled with curiosity when it comes to small things. This enigmatic thing that surrounds him and whose code Tony wants to crack.

At the diner, Tony watches with amusement as James’ eyes widen in delight at the first bite of the heavenly pancakes and can’t help laughing when James pounces on them like a starving predator.

Since James is not much of a talker, Tony does the speaking. For one, because he can’t stand the silence, but for another, because he needs to distract himself. Because he doesn’t want to think about the death of his parents or how empty the mansion will be when he returns. So he talks about anything he can think of until he comes to a point where he doesn’t even know what he’s talking about, but is pretty sure that somewhere in the torrent of words, he tried to explain James the exact details of his AI study.

When they’re about to part ways though, Tony only too well remembers the emptiness that will greet him when he comes home, and he doesn’t even finish thinking it through, before he invites James to come with him.

James does not only come with him, but he also stays.

—

Weeks pass and before Tony knows it, James has practically moved in with him. If you can call it moving in when James doesn’t seem to have a single thing that needed to be brought here. Tony doesn’t know James’ last name, nor does he have the slightest idea who he is, and with each passing day his suspicions grow that he must have taken a homeless man off the street.

It should be terrifying or at least worrying but Tony can’t find it in himself to care enough. He lost his parents—and Jarvis and Ana even earlier—and would be alone in this big mansion until the loneliness would overwhelm him. And James turns out to be an excellent guest. Or rather roommate at this point.

For all he knows, James could be a serial killer, and Tony still wouldn’t care. He needs the company and he uses James for it—in bed and outside of it.

The more time they spend, the more not only Tony seems to be learning about James, but James also about himself. He discovers a love of books, especially C. S. Lewis, and sometimes holes up in the library all day except when he goes looking for Tony to read his favorite passages to him.

Every time he discovers a new dish that he likes, Tony can watch James’ whole face glow and none of the shadows of his past can be seen in that moment.

His favorite reaction, however, is when he trusts James enough to show him his workshop. James’ eyes widen in amazement and a brilliant smile forms on his lips at the sight of scientific chaos there is. “It’s like Narnia!”

“What? Where do you get that from? Narnia is nature and talking animals. I don’t have any talking animals here.” What DUM-E understands as a cue to speak up and whereupon James gives him a smug ‘told you so’ grin.

In these situations, it’s easy to forget that all is not peace, joy and pancakes. As soon as Tony gets down to the jobs Obie gave him, he remembers again, and the alcohol finds its way to his liver to ease the pain. In the morning, noon and evening.

Sometimes at night too when James has one of his nightmares and Tony can’t help him because James doesn’t talk to him, not about who he is, not about his past—although Tony guesses with an almost certainity on veteran—and not even vaguely about it his nightmares.

But they are fine, they have a routine: talking during the day, fucking at night. Eat blueberry pancakes for breakfast at the diner once a week and fiddle with James’ arm whenever he has time.

It works perfectly well as it is.

—

It’s not until on a particular bright morning in March 1992 Tony realizes that he had fallen in love with James a long time ago—the day after he almost dies of alcohol poisoning.

He wakes up to see James laying next to him, still asleep. Long strands of hair cover his face and Tony gives into the urge to brush them to the side, so he can take James’ peaceful expression in.

It’s a picture he’d like to wake up every day to. The longer he thinks about it, the more Tony has to admit that he can’t imagine a life without James in it—and that’s when it hits him. That those are feelings beyond of sole sexual attraction, beyond cameradine or friendship.

The realization hits him like a slap in his face. He breaths in shakingly and his first instinct is to get up and get himself a glass of whiskey to calm down, but before he can do anything the heart monitor starts picking up and only then does Tony realize that he’s not at home but in a hospital.

James stirs awake at the sudden noise and immediately glares at Tony. “You fucking idiot.”

His eyes are red, indicating he must’ve cried, and Tony isn’t sure what is going on but he can tell it must be bad. But he’s still too overwhelmed with the realization of his feelings, so he just gapes at James, not being able to say a word.

“You fucking idiot,” James repeats. “How often did I already tell you that you drink too much? That you should stop?”

And before he can react to that, he’s being crushed in a sudden hug, James holding him tightly to his chest and tears streaming down his cheeks.

“For a genius you are so dumb,” James murmurs and Tony—for Tony it’s too much. He doesn’t know what happened, doesn’t know what to say, so he blurts out without a second thought, “I love you.”

That brings James to a halt. Tony’s muscles tense up and he instinctively holds his breath.

James pulls back a little bit, so he can look at Tony, who rather focuses on the white sheets of the hospital bed. “Tony did you watch too many rom-coms? Confessing feelings after you almost died should’ve been my job in that case though.”

Tony needs a moment to register the words correctly. “Almost died?”

“Alcohol poisoning.”

Oh fuck. Even Tony knows that this is not good, that he definitely went too far this time.

James gently cups Tony’s face so that he’s forced to look into those gray eyes shimmer in a happiness. “Tony, I love you too.”

Faintly he registers the heart monitor rising up again, but he’s too distracted by the warmth that fills him from within to feel any embarrassment at that. He looks up at the wonder that James is and then surges forward to steal a kiss. He expects a nurse to barge in any moment now at the way his heart rate jumps off the charts, but that’s not stopping him from burying his hands in James’ hair and deepen the kiss further.

“Tony,” James laughs as he pulls off. He rests his forehead at Tony’s while they catch their breath and slowly morphs his sappy expression into a serious one.

“Tony,” he repeats. “I love you. And because I love you, I need you to promise me to stop with the drinking. I can’t watch you destroy your own life any further like that. Yesterday I had to find you passed out in the workshop. Have you any idea what I went through?” His hands wander all over Tony while talking, as if he needs to prove himself, that Tony’s still alive.

Tony thinks of SI and Obie and the expectations he has to live up to. He thinks of mama’s piano and how he hasn’t played on it since the accident. And with each thought the urge to get a drink intensifies. He gulps audibly and asks, “Will you help me?”

James’ quiet smile is more than enough for an answer. “Always.”

“Okay,” he breaths out and adds, more hastily, “okay, but you have to promise to never hurt me, James. I can’t, after mum died and Jarvis and—”

“Of course I will never hurt you, Tony.” James interrupts him and those words leave James lips so effortlessly and earnestly that Tony has not a single doubt in the truth of them.

And with James on his side, Tony believes he can make it. Not just getting sober, but living an actual life. Getting his shit together, looking forward.

He finally tells him of his plans of a new home in Malibu, those he was too afraid to talk about because James is bound to Brooklyn and Tony feared he wouldn’t come with him when the mansion’s constructions are finished. But James just laughs and says, “The only place I belong to is your side. So wherever you go? I will follow.”

Tony feels happy like never before. Things finally go well.

—

Until they don’t.

—

The Winter Soldier fights for the first time against his programming on the night of December 16th, 1991.

It’s the shocked “Sergeant Barnes?” Howard Stark gasps that evokes hidden memories from the back of his mind. Memories from war—gunshots, explosions, screams and the smell of fire and blood. Memories of a guy once tiny suddenly big. Somehow the same person, somehow not.

Memories that lead him to Brooklyn instead of the meeting point where he should deliver the serum to his handlers.

His legs walk him the entire day through the city, while he’s taking in each building—some he recognizes, most of them not. Until at night he looks up at a blinking light stating “Cheryl’s” and sees flashes of himself, hair shorter and a laugh on his face, dancing with another man and exchanging forbidden kisses in a dark corner.

He enters and not much later he meets the whirlwind that is Tony Stark.

With Tony the Winter Soldier becomes James and learns to feel again. Other emotions, besides constant rage and pain. Curiosity first, then amusement, lust, care, warmth and somewhere around March 1992 he knows it’s love.

He falls in love with Tony Stark who treats him like a human being rather than a tool, who talks and talks and makes him laugh, who touches him softly always and everywhere, who isn’t afraid of the metal arm but fascinated by it, who studies it without causing him any pain, who sings and laughs and dances and doesn’t shy away from James even once.

Tony Stark who drinks more than he should, reminding him of a man that might be his father coming home, reeking of alcohol, hitting a woman that might be his mother—bringing back memories that rather stayed forgotten. Tony who almost dies and promises to stop with the drinking. Tony who sometimes looks like a man carrying the entire world on his shoulders, dark bags under his eyes, a haunted expression in them and yet does his best to keep James’ sorrow’s away.

Tony Stark whose parents he killed as he realizes after a nightmare on November 24th in 1992.

—

In the morning of November 25th 1992 Tony wakes up alone in bed, a yellow sticky note on his nightstand and the words “I’m sorry, doll” scribbled on it.

—

Tony waits first, clinging onto the hope that he misinterpreted that note and that James will come back. All of James’ few things are still here—Tony checked.

But the longer he waits, the stronger the urge gets to wrap his fingers around a bottle of whiskey. So he gets up and starts looking. First at the diner, then the park, further to the Brooklyn Bridge, to “Cheryl’s” at last.

He returns to an empty home. Doesn’t sleep in the first night, neither the second nor the third and collapses on the fourth—his face buried in James’ favorite wool sweater, the bathroom reeking of his vomit.

And then he repeats that circle anew.

—

James doesn’t come back.

—

On December 1992 Tony moves to Malibu without looking back.

The bar in his new home is fully stocked.

—

The next sixteen years pass by in a rush. Tony drinks. A lot. He drinks and fucks, and then drinks and fucks even more in a desperate attempt to forget James. To forget his touch and smile, his smell and his taste. To forget James’ everything.

And he doesn’t care enough what happens around him during his wake of self-destruction.

Until it comes back to bite him in the ass.

—

In 2008, after 3 months of captivity, Tony returns to the New York mansion for the first time since moving out. There on the night stand of his old room are still the photos of him and James from the photo booth they once took.

Tony blows the dust away and looks at the old pictures, a wistful expression on his face. He soaks James’ soft smile and bright glint in those beautiful eyes in, remembers how those pouty lips felt on his own, remembers the sound of James’ laugh, the taste of his mouth, his body pressed against Tony’s.

In all this time J.A.R.V.I.S. was never able to find even a trace of James. It was, as if he disappeared from earth. Chances are, he died. Because how far can a guy with a metal arm get without the most advanced AI of the world being able to find him? But even though he doesn’t believe in ever seeing James again, Tony thinks of him and the promise they gave each other when he empties his bar down the sink.

The photos end up in his workshop, next to the arc reactor’s glass case Pepper gave him. Tony finally starts looking ahead.

—

Years pass and Tony lives his life again.

He also almost dies some countless times, and every single time he thinks of Pepper, with a lingering memory of James’ laugh.

—

And then in 2016 Johannesburg happens and with Johannesburg the Sokovia Accords follow.

—

Over the years Tony imagined countless scenarios where he would see James again. Not in one of those could he have imagined it to go this bad.

“I know that road.”

—

Fourteen hours after the whole Siberia debacle Tony pulls the old photos from the drawer in the workshop and sets them aflame. He watches with a grim satisfaction as they slowly crumble to ashes and takes his first sip of whiskey in years. Directly from the bottle.

DUM-E’s distressed efforts at saving anything from the photos with the fire extinguisher are just a tad bit too late.

Nothing is left.

—

Tony starts drinking again.

—

In 2016, despite careful avoidance, Bucky does meet Tony again—in a HYDRA bunker of all places. And his heart aches at the sight of Tony’s shock.

Tony might’ve aged and changed, but those eyes are still the same. Big and expressive and at that very moment filled with sadness and anger and disbelief. And worst of all, it’s Bucky’s fault.

He doesn’t plan to fight and neither does he want to leave Tony behind, but he doesn’t believe Tony wants him anywhere near—Bucky had already done more than enough.

So he goes with Steve and goes back into cryostasis, hoping to stay there forever. Only to be woken up a few months later and informed that they got rid of his trigger words and Tony made sure that the Avengers were allowed to return to the States.

Bucky included.

It seems surreal to him to enter the Avengers compound; as if he was dreaming. As if there was a catch that would strike later because he doesn’t deserve to be here.

And then, in the kitchen waits none other than Tony, his eyes hidden behind colored sunglasses, his fake media smile on his face and a whiskey glass in his hand, the sight of which freezes Bucky’s blood in his veins. He’d like nothing more than to take the glass out of his hand and hug Tony tightly.

Which is a privilege he no longer has.

“Ah, the fossil duo! Welcome back,” Tony couldn’t sound more unwelcome if he tried. “Everything is still as you left it, Rogers. You can show Barnes yourself where everything is.” With these words he mockingly salutes them, turns around at his heel and disappears from the kitchen again without giving Bucky a single look.

A chill runs down Bucky’s spine at the sound of his last name from Tony’s mouth. It’s so… wrong. To Tony, he has always been just James. If affectionate or angry or laughing, James was the name Tony would call him with. This single, condescending “Barnes” feels like a thousand knife stabs in his heart. It’s only thanks to his training that he stays composed and doesn’t go running after Tony in a desperate attempt to try talking to him.

The next few weeks pass similarly. If he and Tony even see each other, which is a rarity in itself, even though they live in the same building—he has the suspicious feeling that Tony is deliberately avoiding him with F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s help—then Tony ignores him as if he were not here at all.

Bucky knows, he deserves worse than just the cold shoulder, but that still doesn’t make it easy. Especially not when he keeps finding empty alcohol bottles scattered around somewhere and can do absolutely nothing about this problem.

His only bright spot is Rhodes, who looks at the bottles with just as much loathing as he does. It means that at least one person keeps an eye on Tony’s consumption, since Bucky himself cannot. Bucky never had a chance to meet Rhodes twenty-five years ago, and Bucky is pretty sure Tony hasn’t told him anything, otherwise Rhodes wouldn’t be content with shooting him deathly looks only.

That’s why he doesn’t say anything to Steve either, no matter how hard he questions him, because he sees that there is something between him and Tony that he doesn’t know about. If Tony doesn’t want to tell anyone about their past together, then Bucky won’t either.

Bucky keeps the distance that Tony obviously wants from him.

Until two months after his arrival at the compound on a Tuesday morning F.R.I.D.A.Y. sends an urgent distress signal, and Bucky is on his way so quickly that the other Avengers don’t have a chance to follow him directly even if they tried.

—

Tony wakes up in a hospital with a throbbing pounding in his head and aching bones all over his body—James’ worried face hovering over him. It’s the shittiest déjà-vu he’s ever had.

At least the circumstances aren’t quite the same. Rhodey diluted Tony’s alcohol every time he thought no one would see him. So that something like alcohol poisoning wouldn’t happen again. Tony is grateful and annoyed at the same time.

No, this time he just flew drunk in his Iron Man armor, lost the connection to F.R.I.D.A.Y., which he has to get to the bottom of as quickly as possible, and then fell. So, waking up in the hospital makes sense.

But that James is here instead of Rhodey or Happy or Pepper or anyone else is both, surprising and unwanted.

James opens and closes his mouth several times, seemingly unable to decide what to say before croaking out, “You promised you’d stop drinking.” His voice sounds suspiciously as if he had cried recently, and Tony almost laughs at the irony of the situation.

But then he remembers the day he woke up without James at his side. Remembers searching everywhere for him, waiting, not being able to sleep for days, and how miserable he felt without him, not knowing what happened, not knowing where he had gone.

He remembers that James had fucked him—no, made love with him—knowing he had killed Tony’s mother. And he feels the blood boil in his veins in anger at that. How dare James after all these years, after all that happened, now talk about that promise?

So he throws him a deadly look, his hand clenched into a fist and growls, “And you promised you wouldn’t hurt me!”

James visibly flinches at that and takes a step back, his eyes wandering everywhere but at Tony. Then he takes a deep breath and looks Tony straight in the eye as he says, “You’re right. I promised you that I would never hurt you. But I did it. I have—”

“Why did you do it?” Tony interrupts, because that’s what he wants to know. What he had asked himself over and over again over the years—the why.

Bucky blinks at him in bewilderment and asks: “Why what exactly?”

“Everything!” Tony throws his arms in the air in frustration, ignoring the ailment of his broken ribs over the sudden action. “Why you suddenly left me overnight, why you never told me anything about yourself, not even vaguely hinting at who you are and what happened to you, why you let me fall in love with you when it was you, who killed my mother and were therefore to blame for my misery!” The last part comes out much more honest than Tony wanted it to be and he quickly looks ashamed to the side to blink away the rising tears of anger.

He hears a deep sigh from the side and out of the corner of his eye he can see James drop into the visitor’s chair.

“Tony, I didn’t know who you were or that my mission had been your parents when we met in the bar,” James begins hesitantly to explain. “Howard… his words brought a few memories to the fore. Just blurry, barely recognizable images. I didn’t even know my own name when you asked me for it—I just named the one that was at the tip of my tongue.

“During the time we were together, my memories have only gradually returned. I had no idea about your parents until a nightmare reminded me of it.” This is where James looks up from his hands for the first time, straight into Tony’s eyes, his gaze steadfast and honest. “And then I realized I had broken my promise—I had already hurt you.”

James sighs and runs his hand through his hair and swallows hard. “I understood that it was only a matter of time before HYDRA found me. We were lucky before that because no one suspected I could be with you. But under no circumstances did I want them to get you. I knew I had to go. That is why I did it.”

Tony nods slowly. “And then what? You just decided to go back to HYDRA?”

James laughs dryly, without a trace of humor in his voice. “Of course not. I went on the run. But in the end, no matter what I do, they always find me, don’t they?” His mouth twists into a grimace of self-hatred and resignation.

Not under my watch, no, Tony thinks to himself. Instead he says, “You broke my heart.” Because as reluctant as he is to show his vulnerability, this is James. And he’s always been able to be honest with James.

“I’m sorry,” James says in all earnestness.

“I’m not forgiving you for what you have done.”

“I understand.”

“Not yet at least.”

At that James’ gaze shoots up in surprise.

Tony clears his throat slightly shy. “I—I understand that the… brainwashing and stuff. That it wasn’t you. I just… I just need some time.” And it’s true. Tony had read the Winter Soldier’s files; he saw what they did to him and he understands on a completely rational level that it’s not James who is responsible for all those deaths.

He only needs his emotions to come to that understanding too and then he would truly be able to forgive him.

And really, as much as he always claims that he worked to bring the Avengers back together was because the world needed them, he knows the real motivations for it had been for James only. When Pepper had broken up with him because “there was someone else occupying his heart she could never reach” he hadn’t been able to contradict her. Seeing James again after all that time has only proven her right too.

“Tony…”

“Great, now that that’s settled, take my tablet and read me something,” Tony interrupts James before he can go any further, because there is only so much emotional talk Tony can handle in one day and that line has been exceeded a long while ago.

“I… what?”

“Read me something. I am a poor injured soul deserving to be properly pampered. And I want a good-night story.”

And as James slowly smiles brightly at him, gray eyes glinting in hope and wonder, it’s like not a single day has gone by since he disappeared on him.

Tony is still wary. Remembers only too well those days after James had left him. Can’t forget the Winter Soldier’s hand around his mother’s neck. His fingers itch with the urge to hold a drink, but he snuggles deeper into bed, letting James’ soothing voice and the story of a girl who finds a wonderland in a closet lull him into contentment.

Tony meets James for the first time in December 1991 in a seedy bar in Brooklyn and then a second time in 2016 in a Siberian bunker. He thinks that if against all odds their paths cross not only once, but twice, then maybe they should take a step forward together and see, where the path will lead them to.

And if they just believe strong enough in it, they might even find their wonderland for a second time too.

#may writes #may's moodboards #winteriron #buckytony #starkbucks #tony stark #bucky barnes #WI WEEK 2020 #WinterIron Week #angxlsgrxce #may answers #fucking finally finished this fic :)))#nothing went as it should've :)))#i am absolutely not happy at all how it turned out but at this point idc anymore <3 #wish this fic was a person so i could strangle it to death <3 #shall it burn in hell <3 #but yay! i finished it! :D

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keysmashingfantasies · 3 years ago

Text

Bloody Comfort

pre borderlands!Niragi x fem!reader / Niragi x fem!reader

A/N: i feel like i only post Marvel on this blog and i missed my show so here it is, finally an AiB fic! :D also, minigame: how many alice in wonderland references can you spot? also also, bloody comfort is an awesome name for a band and if you do name your band that, i want my money. enjoy the fic! also also also i didn’t proofread SHIT so sorry for any grammar mistakes.

trigger warning: bullying, mentions of violence (nothing too graphic, i think but beware nonetheless), death (graphic. i mean, i’m not that good of a writer but still, beware), very slight mentions of nsfw, especially torwards the end, niragi (HE’S A WARNING OK), niragi having disturbing thoughts (what else is new. but fr, ok), sliiiiiight yandere niragi torwards the end. (also I tried not to describe in too much detail the bullying that niragi and the reader suffer in the fic so it wouldn’t be too sad).

@dreamingofanisland here it is bestie!

Niragi couldn’t pinpoint when he stopped being sad and when he started getting angry. From a suffocating hopelessness came a desperation he could only describe as feral. He often fantasized about just jumping over his desk and strangling each one of them to death but his thoughts quickly ended with Niragi envisioning himself being overpowered and beaten. He started to not only get angry at his bullies, but people in general. Things. Life.

How could so many people turn a blind eye? How could life be so unfair to give people like this the upperhand and not him? Not him that clearly deserved it? This world was backwards.

He knew he was fucked when he saw the bat, and although he braced for the impact he couldn’t help but fall to his knees and wince at the sickening sound that the baseball did in contact with his nose.

He just sat there and while all he wanted to do was to rip their throats with his teeth all he did was to endure a few more punches before they left with a promise that there would be more. He sat there trying not to cry with sheer frustration. His papers were scattered around, the left arm of his glasses was broken and his pristine black outfit was now covered in dust from the gravel, his hands scratched. He could taste blood on his tongue and he felt a sick satisfaction, pretending for one moment that it was another person’s blood he was tasting.

“Do you need help?”, a voice woke him from his violent daydreams. Suddenly everything boiled over and he felt an overwhelming anger rise inside of him. In a blink of an eye he was standing up, yelling at a somewhat blurry image of a girl who he towered over, even more as she shrunk under his anger. If he wouldn’t be so busy screaming profanities, he would be madly aroused.

“WHAT, HUH? CAME TO SEE THE SHOW? TO LAUGH AT ME?”, he was furious, and as he approached her, she proceeded to walk back.

“No. I just wanted to help”, she said. It seemed another flash and suddenly he could see a bit clearer. Although startled, she didn’t seem afraid of him, and was extending him a tissue. “Your nose is bleeding”, she said, and Niragi wanted to scoff at her for stating the obvious. But she was being kind. And as angry as he was, kindness wasn’t something that he could say no to. He tried his best to control his shaky hands as he took the tissue from her hands and carefully dabbed his nose, as she ducked to collect his papers, and tuck them back into his bag.

“Saw what they did to you. ‘m sorry”, she mumbled. Niragi wanted to strangle her out of sheer embarrassment.

“And you just took some popcorn and enjoyed the spectacle?”, he spat.

“I wanted to help but I wasn’t sure what to do. Would you rather if I had called someone?”, she asked. He breathed once, twice. She wasn’t mocking him, but was unnervingly calm. Something about her being calm while he was practically foaming at the mouth had him seeing red and suddenly he regret having wiped the blood off of his lips.

“No”, he said, calmly. “No, I wouldn’t. Sorry. I have to go”, he said, ripping his bag from her hands with such force that he tugged her arm with it.

“Wait! I mean what I said! I want to help!”

“You, help me? What are you going to do, huh? Be my bodyguard?”, he mocked her one more time. He couldn’t help himself, his brain got used to this. Fight or flight. His adrenaline was pumping and everytime he was around school grounds he looked over his shoulder.

“Hmmm, sorta? Not exactly but I could show you a place. A safe place”, she said. He just looked at her.

“If we get there and it’s a prank of some sort I’ll let you punch me. Square in the face”, she said.

“Are you insane? You just go around letting people punch you in the face?”, his mouth was quicker than his brains and suddenly he felt his face grow hot at the irony of what he had said. But if she noticed it, she didn’t mention.

“Let me help you”, she said.

And he did.

He followed her through a wooded area near the school grounds after walking through a hole in a fence.

He was getting ready to beat you to the punch and hit you so hard that you’d bleed as hard as he did, until you stopped until you reached a very underwhelming toolshed with a padlock.

“We’re here”, you said, and he realized that she sounded different. All this time she was on edge. ‘Of course, Suguru, you threatened the girl like, 3 times’, said the voice in the back of his head. She pulled a key from her bag and the padlock opened easily and they heavy chains fell to the ground and she pushed open the door, going inside. He hesitantly followed.

The inside is nothing as he thought it would be. For starters, it was surprisingly clean and it didn’t smell bad. And instead of tools and brooms and leafblowers, it had bean bags, blankets, a table with a radio full of knickknacks in the corner and a chair that had clearly seen better days but looked comfortable none the less. The girl walked to a corner of the room and his eyes followed her as she closed the door, which had small sharpie drawings on it. She reached for a white box and settled it on the floor between the two bean bags, and reached inside a very small thermos to pull out an artificially blue isotonic drink and settled it down too. Then from the plastic bag he previously assumed was trash, she pulled a bag of chips.

She then patted the bean bag next to hers. “Welcome to my clinic”, she said, placing the white box on her lap.

After an entire afternoon of bonding over unhealthy food and an impromptu first aid rescue, Niragi learned that her name was Y/N, she was a year below and that this little world she created was her refuge from the girls in her class that picked on her.

“I found this and decided that it would be nice. No one’s using it, it’s far from everything. It’s on the Beheaded Woman’s territory”.

Niragi heard the rumors through his bullies. “One day we’ll drag you to the Beheaded Woman’s woods and fucking kill you”. After further investigation, he learned that allegedly a girl was dragged through the woods and beheaded with a blunt axe.

“I made the rumors up. I had to make sure no one would find my safe haven”, she explained. “And once you write something in the girls’ bathroom stall, there’s no turning back. It’s out there and it’s truth”, she sighed. “I would know”.

He wasn’t the most up to date in all the gossip but she told him her story. The rumors they spread, the things they did to her. She almost seemed amused. He in turn told her his story. By the end of it, he could kill someone. She then offered him the other key to her safe haven.

“You can decorate it too. Don’t tell anyone else and make sure to lock it after you use it. Use it as much as you want, just make sure they don’t follow you, okay?”

He took the keys with shakey hands, a knot on his throat. Another type of adrenaline was pumping through his veins. When a few moments ago there were a fast white heat, coursing through him like an electric current, this was slow and almost overwhelmingly warm, like molten lava.

“Why are you doing this? Being so nice to me?”, he whispered as if it was a secret, as if this moment was another fantasy, a deer that’s easily spooked. He had fantasized about this too. A safe haven, an ally. A friend.

“Because we’re the same, you and I”.

You hated him. You hated him with a burning passion. What was at first an act of pity, born from the empathy you felt by seeing someone go through what you did, quickly became a friendship and like a disease, it spread to beyond your safe haven. You would spend your free time together, walk home together. You became friends. And what did he do? Exactly what he told you he would.

“Sometimes don’t you wish to disappear?”, he whispered to you once.

“Yeah. Like, run away? Yeah, I do”, you replied agreeing with him.

‘You’re the only one that understands me. We really are the same’, he would say. What at the beginning of your budding crush on him gave you butterflies on the stomach now made you want to throw up.

You lost your only friend. You despised the sound of music now, because every single song you heard, you shared with him. For the same reason, you didn’t enjoy your favorite movies anymore. Your bullies banded together to target you. And the worst part of all, is that you couldn’t even care. There was no silver lining anymore.

“Don’t you get furious?! Don’t you want to hurt them, make them pay?”, he said as he watched you apply concealer to a bruised cheek.

“I mean, I get angry but I try my best to not let it get to me. It’s what they want. I despise those people, I can’t get in a funk because of them”, you said nonchalantly.

But you had loved him. And now you felt like even moving around was an herculean task, like you were almost dead trying to get to safety. But there was no safety anymore.

Ironically, you started to understand him more and more after he disappeared. The anger, the hatred. How could anyone just follow their lives? When there’s people like you just suffering through yours?

Suguru Niragi was an illness, a parasite. He carved his way under your skin and into your heart, laid eggs of his hate on your veins and sucked you dry of your life’s essence. Then, after you were a shell of a human, he disappeared out of thin air, leaving you alone. Leaving you with those people. Leaving you to die.

And you were still in love with him.

You thought you were finally insane when it happened.

The streets were empty. Absolutely no one. You wondered for a moment if you felt so alone that your mind convinced itself that that’s exactly what had happened, if any moment now you would be locked in an insane asylum for running around and screaming until you throat got raw.

It took you two games to understand what was going on. You made sure to change clothes. Running shoes, leggings and a warm hoodie that you never let the hood down. You decided to significantly shorten your hair after you saw a man pull a young girl by the ponytail in a spades game. You loaded a backpack with food and bottles of water, anything you could find. And an axe that you took from an emergency box from the building you slept in.

It was on your 5th game that it happened. You saw people die in these games, but none of it was hands on for you. You just watched your back and hoped to win and let whoever was running this show take care of the rest. Honestly, you didn’t even wait to know if anyone even survived. You were done doing that.

When you got there, there were five people already. They banded together and whispered amongst themselves as you passed them by and grabbed a phone. Probably just a group of friends that got stranded at the same time and decided to stay together. You clutched you axe harder.

You didn’t even realize that you had zoned out until you heard hollering and four guys heavily armed walked you by. Where the fuck did they get guns? One of them let out a boisterous laugh that reminded you of someone that you wanted desperately to forget. You couldn’t even get over him during fucking Saw? That sound made your skin crawl.

Registration closed, said the mechanic voice. Difficulty: 8 of clubs. The first 5 players will be the first team and the last 5 players will be the second. One team must eliminate the others without losing any players. Both teams will be identified by the color of your screen, and will have one minute to hide.

You saw the armed guys’ screens light up red. You sighed in relief as yours did too. You made sure to keep your head down and thank whoever that not killing teammates was a part of the rules. They seemed amused and absolutely calm, and the guy with the rifle laughed again. You were shaking by now.

When the minute started, everyone bolted in different directions. You didn’t even look back to see if your teammates had accompanied you but by the sound of your footsteps crushing leaves, you were alone. You decided to go back after a while, looking around. A lamppost. Huh, lamppost it is. You leaned against the cool metal and focused on the silence. The minute had ended but they were still hunting. You didn’t come across anyone, which was good. After a while, all you could hear were distant gunshots.

You looked to the floor, only to see a shadow approaching you quick. You barely had time to dodge before a man hit you behind the head with a rock. You reacting made him lose his balance, falling to the floor and letting go of the rock. You looked at him. It was one of the boys from the other team. He had on a white button up blouse and a black hoodie. His hair had fallen over his brown eyes and he looked so scared and so alone.

This will have to do.

You didn’t stop, suddenly lifting the axe and bringing it down was like an automatic thing.

“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU! HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME? AFTER ALL I’VE DONE FOR YOU! YOU ABANDONED ME IN A MINUTE, LEFT ME ALONE IN THAT HELL!”

You didn’t stop when he started praying and then screaming. You didn’t stop when he started bleeding profusely or when the strength of your movements made your hood slide down from your head. You didn’t stop when his head got detached from his body and if you weren’t so angry, you would’ve listened tfootsteps. You didn’t stop until you had made mincemeat out of his face. Just for the sheer audacity of reminding you of him.

He looked at you from afar while you looked at the body of the boy whose skull you just had destroyed, a maniac, victorious smile on your face. You were pretending the boy was him. You really thought he had abandoned you? He would be absolutely heartbroken if he wasn’t so aroused. That’s what he always wanted to see, the instincts that you tried to push down. You were right, you were both the same. He wanted to lick that blood off of you, use it as lube to take you right there. When he first arrived at the Borderlands, when he first killed someone and liked it, he thought you would be disgusted by him. But look at you now. You were here, perfect for him, soaked in blood, feral. He’s never been so hard.

“Y/N”, he said.

“Niragi?,” you said. He ran to you, held you even when you fought back, even when you screamed bloody murder that you were going insane, begging to die already, even when you passed out on his arms. He licked a drop of blood from your neck.

“Let me take you to our safe haven”, he whispered against your skin.

#niragi loving hours in this mf house #niragi x reader #niragi fic #niragi suguru #suguru niragi #niragi imagine #alice in boderland x reader #alice in borderland fic #niragi suguru x reader #suguru niragi x reader

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miss-choco-chips · 4 years ago

Note

Umm... I was wondering if you could Maybe do a follow up on your mini fic Last Line from dicks pov? It gave me alot of feelings and i would love to see the fallout?

Your work is really good! Its so cool how your brave enough to put pieces of yourself out there for other people!

Hey babe! Thank you for your kind words! It made me smile getting this, you are very sweet <3

I totally forgot about Last Line lol, but when I saw it reminded me that I actually wrote a bit more of it, both before and after the scene I posted. So, this isn’t exactly what you asked, but here’s some backstory and then the fallout!

---.---

Four years old, and he watches the red string on his finger pulled taunt towards the crying boy, the color of the thread well disguised among the red blood of the murdered acrobats.

Nine, and he watches from the shadows as it swings right and left, following Robin’s pirouettes from building to building. The thread, that usually goes a few feet before ‘vanishing’ from sight, was almost completely visible now, at such a short distance from the person holding onto its other end.

He’s on his twelve when he tries to explain to Dick the importance of him going back home. He wasn’t sure of his success, even though the older hero took him to the manor, because during his whole speech, Nightwing hadn’t looked up from the red joining them together. It wasn’t exactly how Tim wanted him to find out, but… Batman needed a Robin, and he was out of options.

At fourteen, he feels Kon’s hand clenching on his shoulder, as they both watch from the side how Nightwing swept Barbara off her feet and twisted her around, laughter falling from both their lips even as Dick thread’s end was pointing towards Tim. The third Robin didn’t turn to look at his best friend, didn’t meet Bart’s eyes or react to Cassie taking his hand on hers. He just made sure his face was perfectly devoid of any emotion when he muttered, low enough only a kryptonian would hear, ‘I wish it was any of you’.

(A few nights later, when he and Conner were sitting quietly on the Tower’s roof, the clone took Tim’s hand with his own, his lack of red string blatantly obvious as he said ‘If I had any, I wish it could be you’. To this day, it’s the sweetest thing anyone ever said to him)

He is so, so tired, and he’s only sixteen. But keeping up with the shitfest that was the Battle for the Cowl, helping Dick while ignoring his red string (pulling him towards Nightwing, now Batman, stark contrast against the dark of his suit, with distracting insistency), dealing with Damian’s abuse as expected of him as the ‘mature, older brother’, coping with Bruce’s death, the shock of Dick throwing him, his soulmate, away so so easily…

(Shouldn't be surprising; Dick had been discarding him in favor of others since they met, shamelessly displaying his various relationships in front of him with an attitude that might be called cruel from anyone else but that just earned him playful shoves from other Leaguers while Tim was expected to swallow his pain, because a red string isn’t a promise, Dick is free… and yes, he knows that, but it doesn’t mean shit to his dying heart)

(Maybe, when he left for proof of Bruce being alive, it wasn’t so much for his old mentor than it was for himself)

----.----

Tim is seventeen and halfway across the world, looking at the string attached to his hand that never truly meant anything to any other than him (not to Bruce, who never took Dick aside and talked to him about consideration with his soul mate; not Dick's conquers, who never gave a fuck about the red string in the hands that touched their skin, even when a lot of them knew who was on the other end of it; not Dick himself, who after asking every thing out of Tim and having it, forcefully took the one thing Tim wouldn't give by choice and claimed Tim was his equal, his soulmate, so he never could be his sidekick... even if it was the first time ever that Dick even mentioned the string tying them both together), when he thinks 'you were always free; now, I'm freeing myself’.

He gingerly bites on the string, and with his other hand takes a handful of it and pulls.

The pain piercing his heart is expected, but not new. He had been feeling it since the first time he saw Dick's back as he walked away with someone else.

He times it carefully, too. He doesn't think Dick would care, but just in case, Tim waits until it's morning in Gotham, when he's sure Dick is probably sleeping after patrol.

Maybe he would wake up without noticing

---.---

In Gotham, Dick is carried by Alfred and Damian to the cave, when the new Batman's screams of pain woke everyone in the Manor up. They are suspecting cardiac arrest, and then Dick looks down to his hand and notices the string, always tense, signaling him where his north is, where Tim is, laying loose and lifeless.

He panics, asks Superman to track Tim down or something, and when the man confirms Tim is still alive somewhere in the Middle East, he knows.

And like a freight train, the parting words Kori told him the last time they saw each other hit him right in the chest.

"He isn't going to wait for you forever"

----.-----

When Tim does come back, at nineteen, it’s a quiet thing.

He spent the last how many days carefully setting his systems up, making sure his mainframe would outstand Oracle’s scrutiny when she realized he was back in town and tried to hack her way into his life.

(He didn’t blame her, of course not. Dick was charming enough, good enough, anyone he set his eyes into would be helpless to nothing but fall in his arms.

And, wasn’t Tim the one who would have been intruding, had he tried to chase after the first Robin? Everyone knew he and the original Batgirl were a perfect match, thousands of times better than Tim, whom Fate just wanted to screw over.

But not anymore)

The first thing he did, once the safe houses were chosen and his programs up and running, was to ruthlessly hack into the Batcomputer and take a look at patrol routes.

He would need to keep clear of Diamond District and Old Gotham, least he risked crossing paths with B and R. The Financial and City Hall Districts were apparently Batgirl’s playground for the night, and if he wanted to drop by and let Cass know he was back, he could always search for her by the Upper West Side down to Chinatown.

He would avoid the Upper East Side like the plague, though. Maybe Coventry too, just to be safe. Lots of skintight blue in that direction.

Which left… Crime Alley, the Bowery and Burnley, mainly. He needn't check to know who’s house that was.

And that’s how he ended, on his very first night back on the streets, dragging Red Hood’s bleeding ass away from a blowing up building.

-----.-----

Apparently, saving a recently rehabilitated murderous vigilante was a bonding experience, because Jason didn’t kick him out of his side of town, nor tell on him.

He couldn't, however, do anything to prevent the criminal gossip mile from spreading, and before a week had passed, half the city was aware of the new player on the board.

-----.------

Jason was taking a breather, smoking while sitting on his favorite rooftop, when the rustling sound of fabric told him his peace and quiet was over.

“I thought you were back at being N”, he greeted, not bothering to turn around or get up.

“B was out of town, and Robin needed someone to watch over him during patrol.”

A quick glance around had Hood snorting, “Then y’re doing a shitty job. Don’t see the midget anywhere.”

It would never NOT be weird to hear a strangled laugh coming out of the Bat suit, as tight and humorless as it was now. It seemed big ol Dick wasn’t doing so great tonight.

“Batgirl took him to a party in Diamond District. Gang war.”

He humms in response, not bothering to keep on the smalltalk. N, no, B was here for something, and it wasn’t Jason’s job to ask it out of him; if it was important, he would do it himself.

“Where is him, Hood?”, he finally went to the heart of the matter.

Jason tilted his head, still looking over his city, unmindful of the steps coming closer to his position, “Robin? Ya just said it, B. Going senile? Gang war, wasn’t it?”

“Don’t play around. You know I mean…”

Oh, yeah, Dickie still wasn’t sure what to call Timbo. Criminal gossip only went so far, for someone who didn’t bother to shout his hero name to everyone he beat up. It was very possible only Jason was aware of his new monicker. All gothamites knew was a young vigilante showed up recently, wearing red and black and hanging out with the Hood, which immediately upped his street rep to ‘not to be fucked with’.

“Lil red?”, he completed for his older brother, feeling both charitable and petty. Batman’s wince was more evident by the rustling sound of his cape; he had hit a sore spot, hadn’t he?

“Where? I’m not asking again.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not answering. Must be ‘roundere somewhere, the little creep.”

“Hood, I’m running out of patience.”

“And I’m out of cigarettes, your point? I don’t have him on a leash asshole. We just share the same hunting space, it’s not like we go home together and do face masks while we talk about feelings.”

They did go to a safespot, though, and share beer and pizza while cursing their relatives and Fate as a whole, but it wasn’t necessary information for the fucker. He just breathed in the last of his smoke before dropping the cigarette butt and stepping on it, stretching as he did.

“Now, any more of this riveting conversation, or can I go? No, wait, it was a rhetorical question; get out of my part of town, ass. I’ve been plenty generous by letting you come this far, but our truce lasts as long as the lot of you don’t build any sandcastles on my playground and you know it. Now, scram.”

He could feel Dick’s reticence at leaving without what he came here for, but Oracle must be talking him into letting it be for tonight, because he didn't push. Jason turned just in the right moment to catch the way Dick looked down to his gloved hand, as if expecting the lifeless red string to be pulled taunt in Tim’s direction by some miracle. Jason felt the smallest ping of pity, quickly washed away by the memory of the younger hero’s haunted eyes as he told Jason the story of his severed soul bond and how he came to do it.

Thirty seconds after the bat vanished into the night, a little red bird landed softly on the spot next to him.

“Thanks, Hood”, he muttered, just as tired and hurting as he’d been ever since he saved Jason’s ass and they became partners, but with the smallest hint of lightness that made him prouder of driving Dick away than he’d ever been.

“Don’t mention it, but fair warning, the big B scomin back home in a few days, and he’s harder to kick out than a hurting, annoying bluebird.”

“I know”, Tim sighed, well aware of both facts. “I’ll play it by ear. For tonight, what about bashing some skulls and ruining Two Face’s new op? Good intel says it’s just a few blocks from here, and shattering bones always makes you smile.”

“Babybird, you speak the language of love.”

“Wasn’t that french?”

“I’m trying to compliment you, don’t be a smart ass about it.”

“I am smart, and I do have a good ass. That seems like an impossible request.”

----.----

#ask #last line #dicktim #but not #soulmate au #red string au #angst #tim drake #dick grayson #jason todd #red robin #nightwing #red hood #jason is a good bro #dick sucks as a soulmate #bruce is gonna be confused as fuck when he comes back #my writting #my writing

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ssscentral · 4 years ago

Text

Mine

Summary: Is it a dream? A nightmare? Just a figment of my imagination. Or is it something more?

WIP - Masterlist - Members

Pairing : Namjoon x Reader || Established Relationship

Genre : Horror, Demon!AU

Warnings : Character death, brief gore at the end, it be scary

WC : 2.6k

Member : Kas || @voiceswithoutlips

A/N : This is the fourth and last installation in the “Hell of a Ride” series. All four parts have the same prompt, but the authors have interpreted it in their own way. This is a horror fic, like it’s scary, there’s no fluff or smut. Thank you @taegularities and @heejinnien for being awesome betas and for all your feedback <3 And a special thanks to @eternalseokjin for helping out <3 I hope you guys enjoy it!!

Sunday

I wished Namjoon and I could go on a long vacation somewhere. I barely saw him since he had started working at night. He seemed so distracted these days - his company had just landed a big project, so he had to work overtime. Yesterday I came home from work and he was just leaving for his office. He gave me a quick peck on the lips, and then he was gone. That’s all the action I’ve gotten since the Halloween fiasco, to say that we went wild would be an understatement.

We had attended a friend’s Halloween party. I had dressed as a slutty demon and Namjoon had gone as a priest. My red dress had been so short, it barely covered anything. Halfway through the party Namjoon had finally snapped and dragged me back to our apartment. Needless to say, the sex was incredible. He had quite gotten into his role and incoherently grunted in Latin as things got heated. I had no idea what he was mumbling, but I was too far gone to care.

That was a month ago. Unfortunately, after that I’d barely seen my boyfriend in the house, or anywhere else for that matter.

Monday

I could barely sleep last night. I went to bed after a lonely dinner. I’ll admit to being a little tipsy after all that wine but in my defense, I missed my boyfriend. As soon as the lights turned off, I heard this scratching noise coming from the walls. I tried to ignore it, I really did, but the thought of rats running around in my apartment brought goosebumps on my skin. Our building was really old and the landlord never really did any TLC, one of the reasons we got this apartment cheap. What if there were raccoons in there? I shivered at the thought.

After about two hours of that unholy noise, I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I got up, turned on the lights and armed myself with a broom. I lightly tapped the broom on the wall, maybe the noise would scare them into leaving. After a few more taps the scratching stopped, thank Lord for that. I didn’t want to go sleep in the living room or call our shady landlord.

I glanced at the clock when I went back to bed. It was almost six in the morning. How the hell did that happen? I remember waking up at midnight. Did I fall asleep? Somehow I’d lost a few hours. I bet it was the exhaustion and stress taking over my wine addled brain.

Tuesday

We had this really romantic dinner planned at our favorite restaurant. Namjoon said he’d pick me up from work and I was so excited for it, but he called at the last minute to cancel. His boss had called him in early to work on some presentation. It is safe to say I was extremely upset, and rightly so. I’d barely seen my boyfriend for a month, even texting him was getting annoying. I’d ask him something and by the time he replied I’d already be fast asleep. One dinner, was that too much to ask for?

I couldn’t help but feel disgruntled at how things turned out. Even though I knew Namjoon missed me just as much as I missed him, I couldn’t help but feel unwanted. It was illogical and petty, and the moment the thought crossed my mind I felt guilty. He worked so hard and here I was bitching about him.

Dinner was a sad affair, I was too upset to cook anything, so I ordered some chicken and drowned my sorrows in beer. I was about to fall asleep when I heard a light knocking on the door. I thought maybe Namjoon was back early, my sleep addled brain didn’t wonder why he’d knock when he knew the door code. I opened the door with excitement, only to be disappointed at the empty space in front of me. There was no one at the door. Either someone played a prank on me at this unholy hour or I missed my boyfriend so much that I imagined the knock, either way, it was disheartening.

I went back to bed in hopes of a quiet night. I hadn’t slept properly for two days. To say that I was exhausted would be an understatement. Sleep deprivation coupled with being a kindergarten teacher who had to run around all day after toddlers was taking its toll on my body.

Another knock came, but this time it sounded much closer. I squinted my eyes at the darkness - was I imagining things again? Heavy curtains covered the bedroom window. I could barely see anything in the room. Was I so lonely that I was hearing phantom noises now?

I turned on the lamp after a third knock. It came from the left wall. Rats don’t know how to knock, do they? I got up from the bed with a shiver. The bedroom was cold, I could see my breath in front of me. I gingerly touched the wall, it was just a wall, what did I expect? This time I could feel the vibrations when the knock came again, much louder. I ran back to bed, dread settling in my bones. What if there was some homeless person behind it? It was an irrational thought, I knew that, but I couldn’t help the fear.

I tried to call Namjoon but it only went to voicemail. And what would I even tell him? That there was someone inside our bedroom wall? The whole situation seemed ridiculous but at the same time the knocking only got louder. I huddled in my blanket waiting for it to stop. The knocking had turned to pounding, the sound reverberating through my skull. Surely our neighbors must’ve heard it?

Wednesday

I called the landlord and insisted that he should check for rats, but he said there were no rats. I asked the neighbors about the sounds; nobody had heard anything, not a single scratch or a squeak. I was losing my mind. Namjoon looked so concerned when he came home this morning. I looked like a crazy woman, red eyes, disheveled hair, don't even get me started on the eyebags. He insisted that I go see a doctor, maybe a therapist. The stress was getting to me. I was so desperate for sleep, but all I could do was get ready for work.

The day was a blur - the only thing I properly remember was almost screaming at a five year old for showing me his drawing of a rainbow. I was going crazy. I stared at the empty bed, dreading to fall asleep. I prayed to every deity in existence for sleep. I was sure that the noise from last night had been stress induced and after a good night’s sleep everything would be okay.

Someone was speaking. Was Namjoon back? I glanced at the clock, it was midnight. I reluctantly shuffled out of the blankets and turned on the light. The room was empty, just another dream then. But as soon as I turned off the light, I heard it again, clear as day, a quiet laugh. It echoed around the room as if it had a life of its own.

I fought the rising panic in my chest. I was standing in the dark with my hand on the light switch. I desperately wanted to turn on the lights but I was frozen in place, heart pounding. There was someone in the room, someone besides me, someone who wasn’t my boyfriend.

I felt a cold breath on the back of my neck. Someone was standing right behind me, so close I could feel the cold radiating from their body. A chill ran down my spine. My brain stopped working, all I could think of was how much I didn’t want to die. Was he going to stab me? Strangle me? Maybe he’d torture me just for the fun of it.

“MINE!” a guttural voice said, laced with such malice that the adrenaline finally kicked in. My fingers acted on their own, turning the lights on. My body whirled around before I could stop it to see the face of this stranger. But there was no one there. The room was empty.

Thursday

I woke up with a massive headache. I was somehow in my bed, sunlight streaming through the windows. Fear spiked through me as soon as I heard someone walk towards the bedroom door. I was about to scream when Namjoon peaked through the door and said, “Hey baby, want some scrambled eggs?”

I don’t know what took over me but as soon as I heard his voice I started sobbing. He quickly scooped me up in his arms and tried to soothe me. He was so confused as to why his girlfriend was crying first thing in the morning. Between sobs I told him what had happened, what was still happening - I couldn’t help it. I wanted someone to know, no, I needed someone to know. It felt like I was losing my mind. How could the room be empty?

Namjoon insisted that I take a day off today, but I couldn’t. I needed to get out of that apartment, I couldn’t stay there. I wanted to feel the sun on my skin, I wanted to hear the children’s laughter. My boyfriend was sure that it was just a nightmare. Was it though? I was sure I was wide awake. I had heard his voice, clear as day, mine, that’s what he had said. Mine.

Namjoon tried to take some time off but his boss wouldn’t let him. He had to go on a business trip. I had assured him that I would call him immediately if anything happened. Maybe it was just a nightmare, maybe there was nothing in the dark. The sleep deprivation, loneliness, and the stress had finally gotten a hold of me. That’s what it was, my brain trying to make sense of my emotions. Nothing else.

I reluctantly got off the elevator. It was almost midnight, I had stayed out with my friends as long as I could. I was dreading going back to my empty apartment. As soon as I entered, I swept the living room with my eyes. Everything was in its place. Namjoon was a bit of a neat freak, I didn’t know what I was expecting. I exhaled shakily; I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath.

I debated whether I should turn off the bedroom lights or not. On one hand, I was an adult and I could just sleep with lights on. On the other, I was an adult and not a six year old who was scared of some imaginary monster. I had too much pride, so I hesitantly turned off the lights and hopped under the blankets.

I couldn’t fall asleep, I was too tense. The sound of the refrigerator, the comforting ticking of the clock, every familiar sound had suddenly turned eerie. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt exposed, like someone was watching me, raising the hair on the back of my neck. I debated whether I should open my eyes or just keep them closed.

I chickened out and opened my eyes, frantically looking around. There was nothing. The bedroom was slightly illuminated and I had purposefully kept the curtains open, just to let some light in. I sighed and burrowed more under the soft fabric, hugging a pillow. Nightmare, that’s all it was, just a nightmare.

I slowly relaxed, tracing patterns with my eyes on the dull, yellow wallpaper. I’d always hated that wallpaper, it was the color of piss. The pattern on it was irritating, just a bunch of lines that seemed to lead nowhere. The more I looked at it, the more I was vexed. I had half a mind to get up and violently peel it off the wall when I saw it.

A pair of eyes were looking at me from the heating vent. The vent was located on top of the wall, its cover was open. Even though it was pitch black in that small space, I could clearly see those hostile orbs. Vertical pupils stared at me with such hatred that I couldn’t help but whimper. Every instinct in my body recoiled from terror. I could feel the blood pumping in my veins, my heart painfully pounding in my chest, I’d never felt so alive and so helpless.

I wanted to run away from those eyes, the staring boring through my skull. I wanted to scream - surely someone would hear me? I wanted to call Namjoon, I wanted to feel safe. But I couldn’t. I had a sinking feeling that if I made any movement, it’d come out and jump on me. So I just laid there, barely breathing, perfectly still, like a dead body.

It laughed. A horrible grating laugh that rang through the room. It touched my skin and I felt an intense pain, like a thousand tiny cuts. It was such a repulsive sound that I had to force myself from flinching. My tiniest movement could set it off. I didn’t know how I knew that, I didn’t know if it was even logical but at that moment, all I could think of was those eyes, dripping with venom.

Mine. It growled. It kept saying that over and over again, sometimes it was soft, like a baby’s whisper, sometimes it was louder than thunder. The sound was in the room but at the same time it was in my head, like an airpod had fallen through my ear and landed in my skull. It was everywhere.

Friday

I woke up groggy. My body felt like someone had put it through a blender, my head throbbing in pain. I could barely open my eyes, everything hurt. I didn’t remember much about last night, the only thing I could recall was being extremely afraid. I reached for my phone and somehow, through trial and error, dialed my boss to call in sick. I was so exhausted and as soon as I mumbled my apologies, I lost consciousness.

My eyes opened to a dark room. I sighed when I felt a body press against my back. Namjoon was back, everything was going to be okay. I rolled around and buried my face in his neck. I’d never felt so safe. I inhaled deeply, he smelled so good, like orange blossoms. When did he change his cologne?

He put his hands around me, clutching me to his chest. I had missed him so much, I gripped his shirt. When did he start wearing a shirt to bed? His arms caged me to him tightly.

“Joonie, too much,” I whined when he squeezed so hard I couldn’t breathe.

“MINE,” he growled.

Saturday

The smell hit him before he could see inside the room, metallic, like the smell in a butcher shop. Detective Jung almost lost his breakfast when he saw the crime scene. The ugly yellow wallpaper was covered in blood. It had seeped through the blankets and the mattress. Every color was distorted by red. There was a pile of undistinguishable body parts on the bed. The soft carpet made squelching sounds as the forensic team moved around the room.

Detective Jung left the apartment in a hurry, a thin layer of sweat covered his forehead. He would question the suspects first - to him, everyone who wasn’t the victim was a suspect. It was better than going back inside and putting together the puzzle that once used to be a human being.

Kim Namjoon was sobbing in a corner, the victim’s boyfriend. He was the one who had called the police after coming home from a business trip. He was in shock, he could barely comprehend anything that was happening around him. Detective Jung tried to talk to him with no success, he’d just have to wait.

“What happened?” a melodic voice asked.

“Who are you?”

“Park Jimin, I moved here a month ago.”

#bts x reader #bts horror #demon jimin #bts demon au #bts fanfiction #park jimin #kim namjoon #bts jimn #bts namjoon #kim namjoon x reader #bts fanfic #ssscentral #sssc #kas

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thirstyforcharacters · 4 years ago

Text

1. Winter Storm Warning

Part 1 of 4 of the Winter Storm Warning Series

Summary: A sect of the First Order is attempting to clear out the former Rebel base on Hoth and turn it into a First Order safe haven. When Finn discovers this, Leia sends out two of her best pilots to care of them. The only problem? They absolutely hate each other.

Notes: Hello! The snowstorm that hit my area last week inspired me to write a snowy, tension filled fic! Though this isn't explicit yet, there will most likely be smut in the last chapter, so stay tuned for that haha. This is a 4 chapter story (you can find chapters 2, 3, and 4 here), so I hope you end up enjoying it! (use of she/her pronouns in future chapters, no y/n)

Warnings: canon-typical violence, smut in future chapters (18+ only!), light angst for now (mostly petty arguing), but will get angstier in the future

WC: (almost) 2.3k

“Admiral, I need you to do this.”

“With all due respect, General Organa, I can’t. You know how much I despise him. It’s not going to go well.”

“You two are the best pilots in the Resistance. There’s no way you’ll reach Hoth in time to catch them without your skill. I know you don’t get along, but I need you to try, just this once. Then, you can go back to hating each other in peace,” the general pleaded.

You knew that eventually, you would say yes. The mission to Hoth was vital; a small subsection of enemy forces were attempting to clean out the old Rebel base on the planet and turn it into a hidden First Order haven. The Resistance was incredibly lucky that Finn had stumbled across that intel, or perhaps lucky that someone had betrayed the First Order to get you that information. Either way, you knew you had to do something about it. You just didn’t particularly want to do it with Poe.

See, from the moment you two had met in flight school, you were bitter rivals. At some point in your careers, one of you just barely out flew the other. And in the wake of your flying rivalry came a seething hatred that translated to real life. Since joining the Resistance, you had taken on a higher title than him because you were better at administration, which left you grounded more often. Unfortunately, that meant that Poe had taken the title of best pilot, despite the fact that you were just as good. At least you were an Admiral and he was a Commander. You could still hold that over his head.

But you knew that Leia was right, so you said, “Fine. He just better not do anything stupid.”

The general smiled gently and placed a hand on your shoulder, “If he does anything too stupid, I’ll set him straight when he gets back.”

“I appreciate that, General. Oh, speak of the devil.”

Poe strode in then, with Finn and Rey on either side. They were both laughing at something he said; knowing him, it was probably dumb as hell. Poe waved at General Organa and didn’t even glance at you, making you roll your eyes.

“Good morning, General,” he greeted her cheerily.

“Good morning, Commander,” she replied warmly.

Finn and Rey looked at you sympathetically and both waved hello. At least his friends were nice. You didn’t understand how two kind and wonderful people would hang out with his sorry ass. The two made their way to Lieutenant Connix, who had a mission of their own for them. Poe finished crossing the room to the two of you and only then did he look at you. He still didn’t speak, though, making you roll your eyes again. He glared at you, but still said nothing.

“Alright, you two, I know that historically, pairing you together doesn’t work out well. But I need your combined piloting prowess and fighting skill in order to make this work,” the general began.

“What for? I’m the best pilot here,” Poe interrupted, making your blood boil.

“You’re just scared that I’ll out-fly you and take your precious title. Best Pilot in the Resistance, my ass,” you growled back.

Poe’s brow furrowed in anger and he opened his mouth to retort when Leia snapped, “That’s enough out of you. Poe, be respectful. You and I both know that the admiral is one of the best pilots around. And you, Admiral, need to control your temper as well. The Resistance is relying on you, and I can’t have you two failing this mission because you’re bickering like an old married couple. Now, are you ready to act like mature adults and do this mission?”

You both nodded sheepishly.

“Good. You’ll be taking the Falcon since you’ll be flying a considerable distance. It will also be a bit better suited for the harsh weather of Hoth than your X-Wings. I know your original mission was just to take out the First Order forces, but we also want you both to un-repair anything that they might have already fixed. That way, no one can use it. I wish we could use it, but the First Order would definitely find us there if we take out some of their guys.”

“We’ll play nice, General, don’t worry,” you replied with what you hoped was a reassuring smile.

When trudging to the cockpit of the Falcon an hour later, you were already eating those words. Poe spent the entire time you were loading the ship complaining about how you were stacking your supplies instead of helping you. You wanted to tear his hair out of his skull, but you restrained yourself because you were still in the General’s presence. As soon as you were out of there, you knew you were going to rip him a new one. You threw yourself into the pilot’s seat and Poe entered into the cockpit behind you. You could practically sense the frown spreading across his face.

“Shouldn’t the real pilot be the one flying?”

“Shouldn’t the ‘real pilot’ have been helping to load the ship instead of bitching about it the whole time?”

“Get out of that seat. It’s mine.”

“No. You know I’m just as good, if not better than you. I’m flying this thing.”

You didn’t leave him any room to argue as you started up the ship. Flipping the levers and pressing the buttons may seem sort of random to any passersby, but you knew exactly what you were doing. Soon, the ship was roaring to life.

He groaned and flopped into the co-pilot’s chair, “Fine, but I’m flying on the way home.”

“Fine. Have fun trying to takeoff in a blizzard.”

“Have fun trying to land in it,” Poe retorted.

“I think I can manage. Now, do us both a favor and shut the hell up before I strangle you,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Not if I do it to you first.”

You rolled your eyes hard as you pulled the Falcon out of the hangar and flew into the vast expanse of space. This was going to be a long mission.

“I’m bored.”

“Good for you.”

He was like a child. Petulant. Whiny. Doesn’t know when to shut up. You two had been in hyperspace for a while now, and you had half a mind to turn this rattler around. The only reason you didn’t was because you didn’t want to face the wrath of Leia. But somehow, right now, that sounded preferable than being stuck in a flying death trap with this idiot.

“Let me fly.”

“No. You get the way home, remember?”

“But I’m better than you.”

Oh yeah, and there was him trying to convince you to let him fly. More like annoy you into jumping out of the ship.

“Do you want me to throw you out of this ship, Dameron? Because I’ll do so with pleasure.”

“And cost the general her favorite pilot? I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

You scoffed, “You really care about favorites? This isn’t about who likes who more it’s about saving the fucking galaxy. Come on, Dameron, I thought you’d at least be less childish than that, though I guess I’ve learned not to expect much from you.”

“And you’re not being childish by pettily arguing with me? Please, you’re not one to talk about maturity,” he snapped back.

“Fuck off. I don’t need to hear another word out of you until we land. We have to form some sort of plan.”

“Fine by me. I don’t particularly want to hear you, either,” he muttered in response.

The rest of the journey through hyperspace was made in tense silence.

It was only broken when you said, “Exiting hyperspace now.”

The two of you exited hyperspace and approached the snow covered planet. All seemed quiet so far, but you knew that it probably wouldn’t stay this way. You also knew that Leia had sent the two of you because almost no one else would be able to fly, land, or takeoff in Hoth’s harsh weather conditions. Now was the time to be sure that her faith in you wasn’t unfounded.

You entered the planet’s atmosphere not too far from where the former Rebel base was located, but still far away enough that hopefully you could land undetected by First Order forces. The winter storm whipping through the air made it extremely difficult to see, but you’d be damned if Poe thought you were having trouble. So, you kept a neutral expression, despite the fact that you were panicking slightly about the lack of vision. You cautiously navigated through the poor conditions until you found a fairly clear area to land. Without too much trouble (for the conditions you were in), you lowered the landing gear and found your footing on the pure white snow.

You turned to Poe to make a snarky comment about the smooth landing, but he had already left the cockpit. You scowled. Any other person who had been your co-pilot would have complemented you on a job well done, but of course Dameron doesn’t offer a word. What a nerf herder.

You swiftly exited the cockpit as well, and Poe was already putting on his winter gear. The puffy jacket, thick pants, gloves, and goggles were good for keeping you warm in the snow, but not exactly ideal for fighting. Unfortunately, if you didn’t want to freeze, you’d just have to make do. You began to do the same as him, and you got dressed in silence. You almost preferred the arguing between the two of you over the tense silence. It felt more stifling.

As soon as you had finishing changing and strapped on all of your weapons, Poe left the ship. You rolled your eyes. Guess you were coming up with a plan on the way there. You charged out of the ship after him right into the harsh snowstorm. Wind whipped at your bodies, the chill threatening to soak right through your thick clothing. You could barely make out the other pilot’s figure just a few feet ahead of you.

“Hey!” you shouted, “shouldn’t we be coming up with some sort of plan?”

Either he couldn’t hear you over the wind (which was entirely plausible) or he was ignoring you (which would be much more in character). If that was the case, he was being absolutely ridiculous! You needed to have some sort of attack plan in order to be able to take this base back. You sprinted through the heavy snow to catch up to him.

“Did you hear me? We need to have a plan of attack,” you yelled.

He shook his head, “My plan is to attack.”

“But how? There’s gonna be way more of them than us. We need to figure something out,” you exclaimed.

“We’ll be fine, Admiral. They don’t know we’re coming. No matter what we do, we’ll take them by surprise. Now be quiet. We’re almost there.”

You were absolutely seething. How dare he be so reckless? And he ran ahead of you, so you couldn’t even tell him how much of a dumbass he was! You knew this wasn’t gonna end well. Even if it was true that this was a surprise attack, you at least needed some type of strategy. Everyone should know that, especially the commander in a resistance that exists to save the galaxy! And he practically dismissed your opinion as bullshit! You knew you were right; going in without a plan was definitely going to be your demise. Maybe he wasn’t as great as he thought he was.

At any rate, even if you were going in blind, you knew you needed to calm down a bit so you could concentrate on the upcoming fight. You took steady, deep breaths in and out, like you always did when you were nervous. It may seem simple to most, but it really helped you center yourself.

When you finally caught up to Poe again, you were almost at the base. You both hid behind a snowdrift, and you could see a couple Stromtroopers straggling around the outside of the base.

“See, there’s only like 5 of them. We can just shoot them and be on our way,” Poe said with a smirk.

“It’s never that easy,” you grumbled under your breath.

Apparently, Poe thought it was, because he popped up from behind the snowbank and got a direct headshot on one of the troopers before ducking back down.

“Hey, who the hell was that?” one of the troopers questioned.

“Grab your weapons! We’re under attack!” another shouted.

You sighed and popped up from behind it as well, taking out two more of the guards. When you settled back down, Poe was gone.

“Oh, fuck me,” you muttered, glancing around for the reckless commander.

You saw him behind one of the supply boxes. He ran out from behind it and shot the remaining two guards who were standing in front of the entrance to the base.

He gestured to you, “See, easy.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the door opened and 5 more troopers came rushing out, tackling Poe to the ground. You jumped out from behind the snowbank and blasted as many of the troopers as you could, but more kept spilling out from the door until there were more than what you could keep up with. You knew it. You knew this would go poorly. Soon enough, you were surrounded.

“Welcome to Hoth, Rebel scum,” one of the troopers spat.

That was the last thing you saw before the world went black.

56 notes · View notes

silverlightqueen · 4 years ago

Text

21 Things To Do This Summer PJM

y/n has a week left to live and 21 things she wanted to do this summer. Jimin vows to help her do them all before she dies and give her the summer of a lifetime.

jimin x reader - angst, fluff, comedy, non-idol!au

Part of BangtanHQ’s ‘Bangtan Boardwalk’ at the ‘Summertime Sadness’ booth!

Rating: Mature (heavy themes and strong language - read with caution)

Word Count: 16.9k+ (she’s a monster omg)

Warnings: death and illness, discussion of death and illness, jokes about death and illness, brain tumour, discussion of eating disorders, brief mention of murder and crime (y/n jokes that Jimin could be a murderer or a thief), explicit language throughout, I think that’s it but please let me know if you noticed that I missed anything

a/n: here’s the first part guys! if you enjoy it, make sure to check out the other fics in the Summertime Sadness booth, and the other booths on the Bangtan Boardwalk! a huge thank you to @silverlightprincess for proofreading this massive fic, I love you so damn much x

silverlightqueen masterlist

y/n’s Summer Bucket List

21 Things to Do This Summer

1) Make a new friend

2) Dye my hair

3) Go on a road trip

4) Do pavement chalk

5) Get everybody I talk to to sign a shirt

6) Have s’mores at a bonfire

7) Get drunk and skinny dip at the beach

8) Make a wish balloon

9) Go to a fairground

10) Have a picnic

11) Get a tattoo

12) Sleep under the stars

13) Cloud watch

14) Try camping for the first time

15) Have a water fight

16) Make homemade ice cream

17) Have a pyjama day

18) Send a message in a bottle

19) Watch fireworks

20) Go to a drive-in movie

21) Make a photo album of it all

‘Hey! Hey, excuse me! Hey, wait, you dropped something!’ I can hear someone shouting and, despite the tears running down my face, I roll my eyes, wondering why the idiot who dropped something doesn’t stop to get it. ‘Excuse me! Hey, wait!’ I hear, the voice getting closer, before I feel a tap on my shoulder, and I realise; I’m the idiot.

I turn around to see a boy. The first thing I notice is the piece of paper in his hand. The second thing I notice is that I already know him. ‘You dropped thi- oh, y/n! Hey! Long time, no see. Wait, whoa, are you crying?’ he asks, and I roll my eyes again as I frustratedly wipe away my tears. ‘No, Jimin, why? Does it look like I am?’ I spit out sarcastically. ‘Okay, I’m going to ignore how rude that was because you’re clearly upset about something, and I’m going to be a good person and return this to you,’ he says, holding out the piece of paper. When I realise what it is, I snatch it from him, tucking it safely into my bag and mentally chiding myself for nearly losing it.

‘Thank you. Sorry for being rude,’ I say before I turn away, continuing to head home. It’s only after a few seconds I realise he’s walking beside me, and I speed up, trying to get away from him. He speeds up too. I slow down. So does he. I stop in my tracks, turning to shoot him an annoyed look, and he merely grins back at me, blinding me with his annoyingly handsome smile.

‘What do you want, Jimin?’ I ask tiredly, deciding not to be rude after he returned my list to me. ‘Well, it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other, so I thought it’d be nice to catch up. And I also know you, and you’re clearly upset about something, and I’m not going to abandon somebody who I have history with if they’re crying. And, as well as being a very caring and empathetic person, I’m very curious, and so I have to find out why you’re upset,’ he says, and I frown, continuing to walk, even more annoyed when he continues to walk alongside me.

‘It’s none of your business, Jimin,’ I say sharply, hoping he’ll leave me alone. ‘Well, obviously. It’s your business. But the nature of being curious is wanting to know other people’s business,’ he says as though he’s speaking to a little child, and I shoot him another look. ‘You’re practically a stranger.’ ‘I am not! We had classes together through the whole of high school!’ ‘I’m not going to tell you my business,’ I say with a note of finality, hoping he’ll leave the subject. And leave me, for that matter.

‘Would you tell me if you knew me better?’ he asks thoughtfully, and I roll my eyes. ‘Probably, yes.’ ‘Okay. I’m a Libra, I hate spinach and 13 is my lucky number. Oh, and I dance,’ he says, and I literally want to bash my head against a wall. ‘That does not mean I know you better. It just means you overshare.’ ‘Well, you can’t say I’m practically a stranger. Maybe only half a stranger,’ he says, and I let out a humourless laugh at how persistent he is, and he grins, mistaking it for a real laugh.

‘God, what is it with you? What do I have to say to you to get you to leave me alone?’ I ask, stopping in the street and putting my hand on my hip. ‘If you tell me why you’re crying. Or, should I say, were? Because, if you haven’t already noticed, you’re no longer crying. Thanks to me,’ he grins, and I actually didn’t notice that I’m not crying anymore.

‘Well, your stupid ass has distracted me,’ I admit, and he laughs, the sound quite… endearing. ‘So? Tell me then. I think I deserve to know. Considering I cheered you up,’ he says, and I roll my eyes yet again. ‘I said that you distracted me. That is not the same as cheering me up. Listen, Jimin, I’d appreciate it if you left me alone. It’s nice to see you again, and I hope everything’s going well in your life, but it is not a good time for me right now. My patience is seriously wearing thin,’ I say, continuing to walk, but he still walks beside me, making me want to throttle him.

‘I think your patience was already thin. And I’m a good citizen, so I would never just let a pretty girl crying pass me by without asking what’s wrong. Especially if I already know her,’ he says lightly, and I roll my eyes. Is he seriously trying to flirt with me? ‘Jimin. Leave me alone,’ I say seriously, putting emphasis on every word as the anger begins to bubble up in my stomach. ‘Not until you tell me what’s wro-’ ‘I have a week left to live!’ I shout, losing my temper, and his face instantly transforms from teasing and light, to shocked and guilty as tears fill my eyes. That’ll teach him not to pry into other people’s business.

‘Oh. Oh, gosh. I’m sorry, y/n. I wouldn’t have asked if that’s what it was. I thought you were gonna say you’d broken up with your boyfriend or something. I’m so sorry,’ he says, sounding sincere, but I merely roll my eyes, turning and walking away, and hoping he’ll leave me alone now. ‘How’d you know?’ I hear him say from beside me, and I sigh aloud, having to physically restrain myself from hitting this boy with my bag.

‘What?’ ‘How’d you know you’ve only got a week left to live?’ ‘I went to the doctor a couple days ago, for chronic headaches. They did some scans, and then I got a call this morning to go to the hospital. They told me I have a brain tumour. Terminal. They said I’m lucky if I have another ten days,’ I say tiredly, a couple tears falling down my face which I wipe away hastily, and he takes a deep breath. ‘Wow. I’m really sorry. That’s… terrible. Is there no treatment?’ he asks, and I sigh again. ‘Yes, but they said it’s unlikely to cure it, it’ll only delay my inevitable death, and it’s… painful. I’d rather die sooner than later if later’s gonna hurt. Or it could get rid of the tumour, but it could ruin my future quality of life; I might not be able to speak the same, walk the same, even think the same. So I’ve refused treatment,’ I explain, not sure why I’m opening up to him, and he nods. ‘Reasonable. I’d do the same.’

We walk in silence for a few moments before Jimin starts speaking again. ‘So. Where are you going now?’ he asks, and I side-eye him. ‘Home.’ ‘To your boyfriend?’ ‘Don’t have one.’ ‘Girlfriend?’ ‘Don’t have one of those either.’ ‘Spouse?’ ‘I’m single.’ ‘Parents?’ ‘Don’t live with them.’ ‘Siblings?’ ‘Only child.’ ‘Friends.’ ‘Don’t have any.’ ‘What about all your friends from school?’ ‘I matured; they didn’t.’ ‘Oop. Roommates?’ ‘Nope.’

‘You live alone?’ he asks, and I laugh. ‘I have a dog. If that counts,’ I say, and he grins. ‘Of course it counts. What breed?’ ‘A miniature husky. His name’s Coco, and he’s literally tiny,’ I say, a small smile coming onto my face at the thought of my baby, and he holds a hand to his heart. ‘That’s a cute name. My friend, Taehyung – you remember him, right? – he has a Pomeranian who’s tiny, called Yeontan. Tannie for short. Tan for even shorter,’ he says, and I smile despite myself.

‘That’s so adorable. Maybe Taehyung can have Coco. He’ll need a new owner,’ I say jokingly, and Jimin winces. ‘Don’t you feel like it’s too early to make jokes?’ he asks, and I laugh. ‘It’s never too early. By the time it’s okay, I’ll be dead,’ I say bluntly, and he lets out a strangled laugh, as though he wants to hold it back but can’t.

I still feel a little shocked, but mainly numb. I went through the stages of dealing with bad news whilst I was still at the hospital. I started by denying it, and telling the doctor that something in the scan must be wrong. And then I got super angry that it hadn’t already been identified and screamed a little at her (it was my own fault, though – I’m the one that didn’t go to the doctor until it’d been months of me having headaches). Then I tried to bargain with the doctor, and ask if there were any treatments that don’t hurt or wouldn’t cause me irreversible damage, or if there was any chance I would survive any longer. And then I cried. A lot. And by a lot, I mean a lot. I got through a box and a half of tissues. I was at the hospital for three and a half hours, and spent two hours of that crying. And I was still crying when I left.

I guess I’m now in the acceptance stage. I didn’t know it was possible to move through the stages that quickly.

‘What was that paper you dropped? Your diagnosis?’ he asks, and I shake my head. ‘All my paperwork was in a folder, loads of it. I threw it in the recycling at the hospital.’ ‘Glad to see you’re looking after the planet for those of us that’ll still be here when you’re gone,’ Jimin says, almost tentatively, and I burst out laughing, covering my mouth. ‘That was funny,’ I admit, and he grins, relaxing. ‘I do try.’ ‘Yes, you’re very trying.’

‘Anyway. What was that paper then?’ he asks, and I sigh. ‘Do you, like, make it your life’s mission to pry?’ ‘No, it comes naturally. A lot of girls receive it well, actually. They like it when someone good-looking seems interested in their life,’ he smirks, and I shoot him a disgusted look. ‘Big-headed much?’ ‘Just truthful.’ ‘Well, I’m not receiving it well. Clearly.’ ‘I guess you’re not like other girls then,’ he muses, and I shoot him another look. ‘Please don’t tell me you think that’s a compliment, because it isn’t,’ I say, and he laughs. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. Let me rephrase it. You’re not like the girls that I’m used to being around.’ ‘You’re probably used to being around girls just as pretty as you.’ ‘You think I’m pretty?’ ‘Shut up.’ ‘Well, you’re right. But it’s okay, because you’re not just as pretty as me. You’re prettier.

But anyway. Are you gonna tell me what that paper is?’ he asks again, skimming over the fact he’s now called me pretty for the second time, and I sigh, giving up. ‘It’s a summer bucket list. I saw this girl reading a book with the same name in the waiting room at the doctor’s surgery the other day, and it inspired me to write one,’ I admit, and he grins. ‘That’s cute,’ he says, and I roll my eyes, looking away from him. ‘Well, I’m gonna die before I get to do any of them anyway,’ I say, and he sighs. ‘Oh. Yeah. Forgot about that,’ he says, voice small, and I nod.

We continue walking, his shoulder a few inches from mine, and I distract myself from the slightly awkward silence by looking at our surroundings instead. It’s a lovely summer’s day today; warm and sunny with the most beautiful breeze. Families are out in force despite it being a weekday, little boys running around shirtless and barefoot, and little girls in cute summer outfits. Chill ‘vibey’ music floats through open car windows, couples share ice cream at the café we walk past, birds chirp in the trees that line the road. It’s such a beautiful day. I even shaved my legs and put on a cute floral playsuit. So much for sunbathing in the garden.

‘Hang on,’ Jimin says suddenly, stopping in his tracks. ‘What?’ ‘Who says you can’t tick off your bucket list?’ he asks, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘I’m going to die, Jimin,’ I say slowly, and he lets out a frustrated noise. ‘You have a week. That’s more than enough time for us to do it all,’ he says, and my eyes widen. ‘Us? Who said anything about us?’ ‘I’ve taken it upon myself to help you tick off this bucket list.’ ‘And I’m taking it upon myself to refuse your help.’

‘Um, rude. Why?’ he asks with an amused glint in his eye, and my eyes widen even more. ‘Are you kidding? We barely know each other. The closest we ever were was when Nayeon and Jungkook dated and we all planned at their joint birthday party, and when we got paired together for that History project. That was years ago; I have no idea what kind of person you are now. You could be a murderer,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘You’re going to die anyway,’ he says, and I stifle a laugh. ‘Okay, I’m allowed to joke about it; you are not. You could be a thief.’ ‘Again: you’re going to die anyway. But, I’m not a thief, so don’t worry. You’ll still have all of your belongings to put in your will.’ ‘Excuse me. Stop joking about my imminent death.’

‘Listen, I want to help you. Let me help you tick off your bucket list,’ he pleads, and I’m surprised at myself for actually considering it. I’m going to die anyway – I might as well spend my last few days having fun. Even if it is with an unbearably curious person from my past. ‘Please let me help you. I’ll consider my life a waste if you don’t,’ he says dramatically, dropping to the floor, making enough of a scene for people to look over at us. ‘Jimin, get up,’ I hiss, and he scrabbles at my shoes. ‘I’ll die if you don’t let me. Please, y/n, please let me,’ he wails, and I look around embarrassedly, feeling lots of stares on us.

‘If I say yes, will you stop making such an embarrassment of yourself?’ I hiss, and he looks up at me with wide eyes and a grin, nodding. ‘Then, yes. I’ll let you help me,’ I sigh, and he jumps up from the floor, a wide smile spreading across his lips. ‘Okay, let’s see what I’m working with,’ he says, and I look at him blankly. ‘Let me see the list,’ he prompts, and I pull the list out of my bag, handing it to him tiredly.

‘Okay, let’s see. ‘y/n’s Summer Bucket List’. Cute. ‘21 Things to Do This Summer’. Only 21 things? This’ll be easier than I thought,’ he says, before his eyes scan down the rest of the list. As he reads it, I look him up and down, inspecting him. He’s changed since school. A lot. He’s now around 5’8’’, with clear golden skin, chocolate brown eyes, plump pink lips and ink black hair swept back from his forehead (must be dyed because I remember his hair being a lot lighter than this). He’s dressed in a pair of grey shorts and a plain white t-shirt, a loose grey jacket over the top of it with pair of sunglasses at the back of his head. ‘Okay, well, you’ve already achieved number one. Making a new friend,’ he says, pointing at himself with a grin, and I roll my eyes exasperatedly. ‘I don’t know you well enough to call you a friend,’ I say, and he sighs.

‘That’s the best bit. You barely know me, and I barely know you. We can be whoever we want to be. All I know about you is the vague stuff from school, and I know that you had high hopes for this summer, but you’ve been diagnosed with a terminal illness. And you’ve only got a week left. And that you’re grumpy and get annoyed easily and are not receptive to strangers. And you’ve got a dog called Coco. All you know about me is the vague stuff from school, and that I’m a Libra, I hate spinach, my lucky number is 13, and that I dance.’ ‘And that you’re annoyingly curious and persistent and stubborn and think a lot of yourself.’ ‘Exactly! That’s literally nothing in the grand scheme of things.’

‘So you think we should lie to each other about what and who we are?’ ‘No, no, you’re misunderstanding. Haven’t you ever wanted to be like someone, but you’re too scared to, or you’re too stuck in your ways?’ he asks, voice soft, and I nod. ‘This is your chance. We barely know each other, and we have no more than a week together. You get to be whatever you want to be, y/n, and we’ll tick off everything on your list. We can be like those reckless teenagers from all those stupid films. What have you got to lose?’ he says gently, his eyes big and his words convincing.

‘We can’t do all this in a week,’ I say, and he sighs. ‘Can’t is not in my vocabulary. And neither are cannot, unable to, won’t, shouldn’t, wouldn’t, mustn’t-’ ‘Who in this century says mustn’t?’ ‘We can easily do all this in a week. Even less than a week,’ he says, and I raise a sceptical eyebrow. ‘Ambitious, but I don’t think so.’ ‘And that’s not in my vocabulary either. But… give me four days,’ he says, and my eyes widen. ‘Four days?’ ‘Easy. I could probably do it in three, but I’ll say an extra day just to be sure,’ he says confidently, and I roll my eyes.

‘Haven’t you, like… got a job? Or, like, studying? You can’t just devote four days – or more – to helping me tick off my bucket list,’ I say, and he rolls his eyes. ‘Why are you so sensible? Trust me, there’s nothing I have to do,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow, not believing him for a second. ‘Fine,’ he sighs, ‘I work with my friend – Hoseok, remember him? – at his dance studio, but he’ll let me have some time off,’ he says, and I’m still slightly sceptical, but decide to give him the benefit of the doubt.

‘Why do you want to help me? Haven’t you got better things to do with your life?’ I ask him, voice small, and he smiles, seemingly endeared. ‘There’s something tragic about you, y/n. You went to the hospital alone to be told that you’re going to die. And you don’t live with anybody. And you have a list of things you wanted to do this summer, but won’t be able to do them without help. My help. Of all the places you dropped that paper, you dropped it in front of me. And of all the people that could’ve picked it up, it was me. We haven’t seen each other since we left school, and even though the odds of us seeing each other again were slim, look where we are. Fate works in mysterious ways, y/n. Let me help you. For old time’s sake,’ he says softly, and I feel that little voice in my head whisper, ‘why not?’

‘You know what? Let’s do it,’ I say, throwing caution to the wind, and feeling a little bit of excitement bloom in my chest. ‘Wait, really?’ he asks, surprise on his face but also… hope in his eyes. ‘Yeah. Let’s do it,’ I say with a small smile, the excitement in my chest flooding out into my veins. He jumps up and pumps the air, whooping and shouting in celebration, and I don’t even feel embarrassed of him, finding it quite endearing.

‘Okay, let’s get started. It’s 12.32, so we have until 12.32 on Sunday to tick the whole list off. Let me look at the list again. Um… well, number one’s done. And the last one, the photo album, we can buy a photo album now and take pictures as we go along to put in it,’ he says, thinking aloud, before he turns abruptly. I look around in alarm before rushing after him. ‘Where are we going?’ ‘There’s a supermarket just down the road that we can get a photo album from. Oh, and we can buy an instant camera too! Cuter pictures,’ he says, and I roll my eyes with a small smile on my face.

‘We should just scrap that one. It’s not like I’ll be able to look back at it, so what’s the point?’ I say, and he frowns at me. ‘Well, we could say that about all of this, but it’s about making your last few days exciting and fun and an experience of a lifetime. So don’t say ‘what’s the point’, because there is a point,’ he says firmly, and I keep my mouth shut, unable to stop a small smile from appearing on my face.

We enter the supermarket, the change in temperature making me shiver in my skimpy outfit, and Jimin looks over at me. ‘Oh, my God, my mum would kill me if she knew how ungentlemanly I was being right now,’ he says, taking his jacket off. ‘No, Jimin, it’s fine,’ I try to stop him, but he’s already handing it to me and taking my little backpack from my hand. ‘Let me. Have you ever been treated like a princess?’ he asks, and I shake my head shyly. ‘Then take the jacket and let me hold your bag. It’s the least you deserve,’ he says, and I smile to myself as I shrug on the jacket without further complaint, watching amusedly when he puts on the backpack.

He leads us towards the electronics, the back corner of the store, and makes a beeline for the camera section. ‘What’s your favourite colour?’ he asks, and I hesitate. ‘It’s hard to choose a favourite,’ I say quietly, and he rolls his eyes, an amused smile playing at his lips. ‘Okay. What’s your favourite colour out of these?’ he says, motioning to the instant cameras, and I think before answering, ‘that one. The pastel blue.’ ‘Ah, nice choice,’ he says, picking one of the boxes up and heading over towards where the photo albums are, and I follow after him. ‘This one’s perfect!’ he says, pointing at one the same colour as the camera, and I nod, Jimin picking it up with a grin.

‘Right, let’s just double-check this list and see if there’s anything else we need,’ he says, getting the list out of his pocket again. ‘Hmm, we could buy some chalk to do number 4. And we can buy a shirt and markers to do number 5,’ he says, thinking aloud again, walking ridiculously quickly to where the art and school supplies section where the chalk and markers will be, before rushing off towards the clothes section, having me running around behind him.

Once we’ve picked out a plain white button-up dress shirt, we head over to the counter, Jimin chatting amicably with the cashier as I hang behind, surprised and slightly envious of his ability to speak to strangers like they’re close friends. ‘Would you mind doing us a favour?’ Jimin asks, and the cashier nods instantly, scanning through the shirt. ‘Can you sign this shirt? Just, like, with your name and your… job, I guess. We, um, we’re doing a project,’ Jimin says with a grin at me, and the cashier nods again, looking a little confused as Jimin hands her a marker from the pack. She writes ‘Soojung –supermarket cashier’, before handing Jimin the marker back with a grin.

‘Have you got film for this camera?’ Soojung asks as she scans it through, and Jimin looks to me, both of us exchanging an embarrassed glance. ‘No, but it’d probably help,’ I say frankly, and Jimin nods with a laugh. ‘I’ll go and grab them for you,’ the cashier says, getting up and running off. ‘We could’ve gone and gotten it, she didn’t have to,’ I say, and Jimin grins. ‘Perks of being a nice person – people do things for you that they don’t have to,’ he says pointedly, and I scowl at him. ‘Was that a dig?’ I demand, and he grins even wider. ‘Not at all, my dear, y/n,’ he says, throwing an arm around my shoulders, and I roll my eyes in response, the cashier reappearing with a couple boxes of film.

‘Do you want just the one or…?’ ‘We’ll take both,’ Jimin replies, the cashier nodding, scanning them through. ‘Gonna make some summer memories?’ the cashier asks, and we exchange another glance, a small smile playing at Jimin’s lips when he replies, ‘something like that, yeah.’

‘Okay, let’s have another look at this list,’ Jimin says once we’re seated in the back corner of his favourite coffee shop, pulling the list out of his pocket and reading it through. ‘So you’ve already made a new friend. Me. We’ve got the chalk for number four, and a shirt and markers for number 5. I should sign the shirt, right?’ he says, and I nod, thinking this’ll be easier if I let him do what he wants, and he grins, writing ‘Park Jimin - y/n’s fabulously beautiful assistant and school friend’. I raise an eyebrow, and he raises one back, challenging me to say something, but I just shake my head with a small smile.

‘Let’s look at the rest of them. Number 2, dyeing your hair… I have a trillion boxes of dye at home, that’s easy. Number 3, go on a road trip… we can do that, and tick off the others as we do it. Number 4, pavement chalk, we can do with Taehyung on his and Namjoon’s driveway because Tae’s good at art and their driveway is huge. Number 5, get everyone to sign a shirt, won’t be difficult, we just have to remember. Number 6, have s’mores at a bonfire… let me think about that one. Number 7,’ he begins, before looking up at me with a smirk, and I roll my eyes, a little embarrassed.

‘Don’t laugh. It’s something that so many people have done, and I never have,’ I say defensively, his mouth falling open. ‘You’ve never gotten drunk?’ he asks jokingly, and I laugh despite myself. ‘No, idiot, I’ve never skinny-dipped, but I’m pretty sure I’ll only have the courage to do it if I’m drunk,’ I say, and he nods, looking at me thoughtfully. ‘You can leave me with that one too, I’ll think about it.

Number 8, make a wish balloon, that’s easy. Number 9, go to a fairground… that may be a bit more difficult, but I’ll get it done. Number 10, have a picnic, easy. Number 11, get a tattoo, ooh, that’s fun. I know the perfect place. Number 12, go to a drive-in movie… difficult, but I’ll find a way. Number 13, cloud watch, super easy. Number 14, try camping for the first time, that’s easy too. Number 15, water fight… that’s easy as well. Number 16, homemade ice cream, easy. Number 17, pyjama day, even easier. Number 18, send a message in a bottle… should be easy. Number 19, run through sprinklers… shouldn’t be too hard. I hope. Number 20, stargaze and fall asleep under the stars, should be easy enough. And Number 21 is well under way already,’ he says with a grin.

The photo album already has two pictures in it; one of Jimin and I smiling and squinting in the sunlight, and one of us with the cashier, who looks a little awkward, but it’s fine. Nothing will be more awkward than telling her we’re trying to tick off a summer bucket list within a few days because I’m going to die soon. I was right – Jimin has a serious habit of oversharing.

‘Hi, welcome to the Sweetbrew. I’m Yoongi, I’ll be your server. What can I get you?’ a barista says, sounding like he wants to die, his entire face hidden behind a menu. ‘Yoongi,’ Jimin says, snatching the menu to reveal a boy with porcelain skin, mint green hair and brown eyes. I recognise him as one of Jimin’s best friends from school – Min Yoongi.

He was always one of the quieter members of their friendship group. Not shy, but more calm and laidback – it was easy to seem like that when surrounded by his friends, every single one of them having been big and loud characters. But he was just like the rest of them in that he was definitely popular, and desirable too. Everyone saw him as this sensitive and kind boy, his passion for music reinforcing that even more, and there was always somebody that was crushing on him, his look unique and intriguing. And he’s only gotten better looking since school, more mature and manly, yet still with the soft and delicate features that he had back then.

‘Oh, Jimin. Hey,’ he says, sounding a little more lively, before he turns to look at me. ‘Ah, y/n, right? From school?’ he asks, and I’m surprised at how quick he recognises me. ‘I told the group chat about you. Sorry,’ Jimin says, and my eyes widen, Yoongi sitting in the spare seat at our table. ‘What? When?’ I ask, and he grins. ‘While you got distracted playing with that puppy outside the supermarket,’ he says, and I frown.

‘Did you tell them everything?’ ‘No. Well, nearly everything. I told them what we’re doing, but I didn’t say why. Obviously,’ he says, and I fix him with a glare. ‘Oh, it’s okay to tell a random shop worker, but not your best friends?’ I ask, Yoongi shooting him a look too. ‘Not cool, Park,’ Yoongi says, and Jimin scowls. ‘I already apologised for that. I have a serious problem with oversharing,’ he says, Yoongi and I exchanging a glance as we chorus, ‘we know.’

‘Why are you doing this? If you don’t mind me asking,’ Yoongi asks, curiosity in his eyes, and I sigh. ‘I’ve got a brain tumour, so I’ve got, like, a week left to live,’ I say bluntly, Yoongi’s mouth falling open. ‘Oh. Oh, God, I’m so sorry, y/n, that’s awful,’ he says, sounding a little awkward, but I wave him off. ‘It’s fine. I’ve already gone through the five stages, and am now sufficiently distracted from my impending demise by your stupid friend,’ I say, Jimin scowling.

‘Well, at least he can make up for being stupid by helping you tick off your list. Anyway, you guys want drinks or you just chilling?’ Yoongi asks, and Jimin looks to me to answer. ‘I could do with a drink.’ ‘What would you like, y/n?’ Yoongi asks, and I hesitate, not quite sure. ‘Um… I don’t know. Jimin, what do you have?’ I ask, but Jimin already looks like he’s cooking up a scheme. ‘What fruits do you like, y/n?’ he asks me, and I think for a moment before answering, ‘berries, pineapple, mango, kiwi, peach. I like everything.’

Yoongi and Jimin exchange a glance, talking without words, and Yoongi nods before disappearing into the back. ‘Anyway. We need to get Yoongi to sign your shirt before we leave, remember. And then… we can go to Tae and Joon’s to do pavement chalk. And we should be able to make the ice cream at Tae and Joon’s too. Then we can go and pick up stuff from our houses before we go on the road trip,’ he says, and I hold up a hand.

‘We’re gonna have to go to mine before we go to Taehyung and Namjoon’s, because I’ve left Coco with the neighbour. I told her I’d only be a couple hours and it’s already been… nearly four,’ I say, Jimin nodding, and I can practically see his mind working. ‘We can get Coco and take her to theirs, and she can play with Tan while we get on with ticking things off. And then we can take her on the road trip with us the next day,’ he says, and I nod, getting more and more excited with his ideas.

‘Are you gonna drop me home tonight and then pick me up in the morning?’ I ask, and he thinks. ‘How about… we sleep over at Tae and Joon’s? You can get all your stuff when we go now, and then we’ll be able to leave first thing in the morning,’ he suggests, but I’m sceptical. ‘Won’t they mind?’ I ask, and he shakes his head instantly. ‘They’re so chill about this kinda stuff. They really won’t mind. We all sleep over at their house all the time because it’s the biggest. There’s more than enough space,’ he says, obviously trying hard to convince me, and I nod. There’s no point worrying about intruding at their house when their best friend seems to be the most intruding person in history.

Jimin looks back down at the list, thinking hard, and I smile to myself. It’s sweet that he’s putting so much effort in to try and tick off this list, even though we barely know each other. The most we ever said to each other at school would’ve been ‘d’you have a spare pen?’ or ‘can you pass me the bottle opener?’

Yoongi reappears after a couple minutes with two plastic cups in his hands, the drinks within them vibrant pink and orange. ‘I call this one… ‘y/n’s summer bucket list’. I put in the syrups for all the fruits you named and a lot of sugar and ice,’ he says, putting them down with a flourish, my heart warming as I smile at him. ‘Thank you. It looks amazing,’ I say, taking a sip, my eyes widening as the flavours explode in my mouth. ‘And it tastes amazing too,’ Jimin says, having already taken a (large) gulp.

‘I’m not the best barista here for nothing. But, y/n, you gotta take the credit. It is named after you,’ Yoongi says, and I roll my eyes with a smile. ‘Get out of here. But, for real, it tastes great, Yoongi,’ I say, the boy giving me the cutest gummy smile, and then I notice Jimin fiddling around with the camera. ‘What are you trying to do?’ I ask, stifling a laugh, and he sighs defeatedly. ‘Take a picture of us with your drink,’ he says, and I hold back a smile, ‘get someone else to take it.’

He ropes in an innocent woman sat beside us with her friend, and she takes a while to focus the camera on us and get the three of us in frame, but when the photo develops, it’s pretty good. ‘Perfect. Right, let’s head back and get Coco,’ Jimin says, and I hold out a hand. ‘Wait. Yoongi, will you sign this shirt?’ I ask, and he looks a little confused. Nevertheless, he signs it as ‘Min Yoongi – creator of the iconic ‘y/n’s summer bucket list’ drink and y/n’s school friend’.

Jimin looks thoughtful as we rise from our seats, and I side-eye him. I’ve noticed that a little bit of panic appears in my chest when I see that look on his face. ‘Yoongi, you busy tonight?’ Jimin asks, and Yoongi shakes his head. ‘I’m never busy,’ he says, and I stifle a laugh. ‘When d’you get off work?’ ‘4.’ ‘Come ‘round to Tae and Joon’s. I got an idea,’ Jimin says cryptically, wiggling his eyebrows at me, and I give him a look.

‘Okay. See you guys later then,’ Yoongi says before turning to head into the back. ‘Wait. Don’t we need to pay?’ I ask, and Yoongi smiles at me, a little sadness behind the expression. ‘It’s on the house. I might even speak to the manager about getting this drink put on the menu,’ he says, and I smile at him, trying to ignore the tears in my eyes. ‘Good idea. Thanks, Yoongi. See you later,’ I say, Jimin bidding him goodbye as he disappears into the back. ‘Okay,’ Jimin turns to look at me with a grin, ‘let’s go get Coco.’

‘Oh, y/n. Oh, my angel, I’m so sorry,’ Mrs Choi says for the eleventh time, dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief, and I smile sadly. ‘It’s okay, Mrs Choi,’ I say, not sure what else to say, when Jimin appears at my elbow. ‘Everything’s in the car now, so whenever you’re ready,’ he says with a grin as he hands me the house keys, Mrs Choi looking him up and down. ‘Oh, Mrs Choi, this is Jimin… an old school friend. Jimin, this is Mrs Choi, my lovely neighbour who my dog likes more than me,’ I say, Mrs Choi laughing as Jimin shakes her hand, bowing his head politely.

‘Oh, don’t be silly, y/n, Coco adores you. He cries whenever you leave him with me,’ she says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘And then cries when I come to pick him up,’ I point out, and she waves a hand dismissively. ‘It’s because I feed him so much,’ Mrs Choi says, and I laugh, Coco appearing in the doorway behind her. He comes bounding up to me, my heart filling as he rests his front paws on my leg, and I bend down to pick him up. ‘Hi, baby. You okay?’ I say, showering him in kisses, and ducking away when he tries to lick my face. I hate when he licks my makeup off.

‘That is the cutest dog ever,’ Jimin says, and I hold Coco out to him. He instantly takes him into his arms, and giggles when he licks the tip of his nose. Coco leaps out of his arms, and he panics, trying to catch him, but he does it all the time, bounding around the front garden. ‘Here,’ Mrs Choi says, handing Jimin the little tennis ball she keeps beside the door for when she plays with Coco. He instantly throws it and Coco bounds after it, running straight back to him with it in his mouth.

‘He’s handsome,’ Mrs Choi observes quietly so Jimin can’t hear, and I roll my eyes. ‘And doesn’t he know it?’ ‘Are you… and him…?’ ‘Oh, God, no. I… there’s a list of things I wanted to do this summer, and he’s helping me get through it all before I...’ I trail off, and she nods, blinking furiously, obviously trying not to cry. ‘That’s lovely of him. Make sure you take lots of pictures to show me,’ she says, and I grin. ‘We’ve already started a photo album. Actually. Hold on,’ I say, getting the camera out of my bag as Jimin bends down to pet Coco who jumps on him, the unexpectedness making him fall onto his back. I get a really cute picture of him lying down, laughing, with Coco on his chest, trying to lick his face.

‘Lovely. Well, I’ll let you get to it. But make sure you come to see me again before… well, when you get back from ticking off your list,’ she says, pulling me into a hug, and I screw my eyes shut, trying my hardest not to cry in front of her. She’s been like a mother figure to me since I moved out of my parents’ house, always coming over to check if I’m okay, bringing me food and inviting me around at least once a week, looking after Coco whenever I need her to. I’m heartbroken that I’m going to be leaving a hole in her life when I go.

‘I will. See you later, Mrs Choi,’ I say, pulling away from her, and we exchange a sad smile. ‘See you, y/n. Be careful, dear, and have fun,’ she says sadly, pressing a kiss to my cheek, giving me one last long look before she disappears into her house. I don’t blame her; I’d be struggling to deal if I were in her position.

‘Okay. Let’s go,’ I call to Jimin who’s sat cross legged on the floor, Coco running towards him with the ball and dropping it beside him. Jimin’s standing when I reach them and he hands me the ball, Coco’s eyes never leaving it. ‘Do you want Coco to sit on my lap or do you mind him sitting in the back?’ I ask, as we walk towards his car, and he shrugs. ‘He can sit in the back, I don’t mind,’ he says, and I pull open the back door, putting the ball in there, and Coco leaps in without hesitation. I shut the door behind him before climbing into the passenger seat, Jimin already sat in the driver’s seat.

‘You ready?’ he says excitedly as he starts the engine, putting on the radio which is currently playing Justin Bieber. ‘Yep. Let’s do this,’ I say, sneaking one last look at Mrs Choi’s house. And then it hits me. This might be the last time I look at her house. I might die before I get to see her again.

My body goes cold all over, tears prickling in my eyes as my throat constricts painfully. It just repeats in my head again and again; ‘I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to die.’

Coco realises I’m upset before Jimin does, and he begins to whine from the backseat. ‘Is Coco okay?’ I hear Jimin’s voice distantly, and when I don’t reply, I hear him coo, ‘Coco? What’s the matter, boy?’ And then he looks over at me.

‘Oh,’ he breathes out, instantly pulling over. ‘y/n,’ he says gently, reaching out to take one of my hands, and the second his skin touches mine, I burst into tears. He shuffles as close as he can, the gearstick separating us, and he leans across the gap, pulling me into his arms. I sob into his shoulder, letting him hold me as the tears come in an endless flood, whispering the words ‘I’m going to die’ every few seconds.

Once I’ve calmed down (and feel ridiculously uncomfortable in the position we’re in), I gently push away from him, and he releases me, still holding one of my hands in his. ‘Sorry,’ I whisper, and he frowns. ‘Don’t apologise. You’re allowed to be upset. Like, you’re going to die, for God’s sake; you can cry about that. Cry as much as you want, you’re entitled to do so. Just… tell me when you’re upset so I don’t say something stupid,’ he says ruefully, a small laugh falling from my lips, and he grins.

‘It’s just… it’s not fair. There’s still so much I wanted to do with my life. I’ll never work in my dream job. There are so many beautiful places I’ll never get to see. Tokyo, Mexico, Portugal, Bali, Dubai, India, Australia, Brazil, Hawaii, The Caribbean, The Maldives, Greece, Morocco. So many things that everyone does that I’ll never get a chance to do. Fall in love, get married, have a family. I’ve never even been in a relationship,’ I say with a harsh laugh, and Jimin sighs.

‘You’re right, y/n. It’s not fair, it’s not fair at all. You deserve so much more, so much better. You’ve been robbed of the rest of your life. You’re allowed to be angry. I’m angry,’ he says so simply, and it feels as though his words just… make it all okay. It’s hard to explain, but they feel like a consolation. They make me feel like the way I’m feeling isn’t me just being irrational, or a spoiled brat, because I know that it could be worse. They make me feel like I’m justified in my thoughts and feelings. And that’s what I need right now.

‘Thank you,’ I say, sniffling a little, and he smiles at me. ‘You’re most welcome, y/n. Now. Are you ready to go to Tae and Joon’s or would you like to cry for a little longer?’ he says teasingly, and I laugh, shoving him gently. ‘Drive, you moron,’ I say, and he gasps as he starts up the car, a small grin playing at his lips as he says, ‘Moron? I’m about to give you the summer of a lifetime in four days. Do you think a moron could do that? No, of course they couldn’t.’

‘y/n! Oh, my God, girl, it’s so good to see you!’ Taehyung exclaims the second I open the car door, running over from the front door and throwing his arms around me. I was always a little closer to Taehyung than I was to Jimin, because we had quite a few classes together. I hug him back, my face practically smushed against his chest as he holds me in a bone-crushingly tight embrace.

‘Hey, Taehyung. How have you been?’ I ask as he releases me, his hands still on my shoulders. He holds me at arm’s length, looking me up and down, before an appreciative grin spreads across his face. I hold back from pointing out that he still has the same adorable boxy smile from high school. And then I register his bright blue hair, stifling a laugh at how eccentric he still is. ‘I’m good. You got hot, y/n!’ he exclaims, and I feel blood rushing to my face from embarrassment.

‘Thank you. But look at you! You’re so handsome, Tae,’ I grin, and he grins back with a little wink. Everything about him is just as appealing as back then. Tae was definitely a ladies’ man… and a men’s man too. He was loud and bubbly, his personality easily grabbing the attention of everyone in any room, and his laugh was crazy infectious. He was the perfect mix of cute and hot, and he’s only gotten hotter, with his manly features and strong build.

‘Thank you, babe. Come in, come in. Jimin, do you need a hand with the bags? No? Good,’ he says, not even waiting for an answer from Jimin before he drags me up towards the house, the other boy muttering behind us as I hear him pop the boot open.

The second I step over the threshold, a ball of fluff appears and begins yapping at me from behind Tae, and he bends down to pick it up. ‘y/n, this is my beloved son, Kim Yeontan, or Tannie for short,’ Taehyung says, introducing me to his little Pomeranian, who has now quietened down and is staring at me with a curious look in his eyes. ‘Hi, Tannie,’ I coo at the dog, reaching a hand out to stroke his head, and he lets me with a contented little growl low in his throat.

‘Ah, he likes you! He rarely likes strangers. Little coward,’ Taehyung says affectionately as I slip off my shoes, Jimin appearing in the doorway with my bag (a suitcase, actually – yes, I might be dying soon, but I wanna make sure I look good when I do, so I had to bring plenty of clothes) in one hand, and Coco in the other. And then the barking match starts.

Coco and Yeontan incessantly yowl and woof at each other, both of them scrabbling to get out of Jimin and Tae’s arms. And then Taehyung puts Tan down, and Tan instantly shuts up, hiding behind his dad’s legs. Jimin does the same, putting Coco down, and he tries to get Jimin to pick him up again. ‘They’re both cowards,’ I mutter with a smile as Taehyung leads us down the front hallway, Yeontan trotting along beside him as I follow behind, Coco hanging back with Jimin as he takes his shoes off and shuts the front door.

We enter the kitchen, and if it wasn’t clear from the outside of the house, it’s made clear now; this house is beautiful, and expensive. It’s roomy and spacious, modern and clean, with classy and tasteful furnishings. ‘I love your house, Tae. It’s so nice, and I love the way you’ve decorated,’ I say, and he beams at me, eyes nearly disappearing behind their lids. ‘Thank you, y/n. It was all me – Joon has no sense of decoration,’ he says, sounding genuinely touched, and Jimin raises an eyebrow at me as he walks in. ‘Look at you sucking up,’ he mutters with a grin, and Tae and I both shoot him dirty looks.

‘You want something to drink, y/n? Before we get started on the chalk?’ he asks, and I shake my head. ‘I’m okay, thank you,’ I reply, but he’s already distracted with the list that Jimin’s put in front of him on the marble island counter. ‘Ooh, so this is the list? Let’s have a look,’ he says before reading it intently. Once he’s done, his eyes flit up to me, before flitting back down to the page.

‘Don’t take offence to this, okay?’ he says, and I already brace myself for a mocking remark. ‘Some of this stuff is, like, basic teenager stuff. How have you not done all of this already?’ he asks softly, and I feel a little embarrassed. ‘I don’t know, I just… after high school, I drifted from the girls – I still talk to them every now and then, but it isn’t the same – and I didn’t really… make any new friends to do these kind of things with. I have my work friends, but the most I’ve ever done with them is a night out. And in high school, I guess I was… too cautious and too scared to join in on these kind of things. We went on a group trip to the beach – I was the only one that didn’t skinny dip. The end of school prank was dyeing our hair in the school toilets – I was the one of the only ones that didn’t dye mine. Everyone planned a camping trip together – I didn’t go. I was, and still am, a little… uptight, I guess? I wanted to change that this summer, but…’ I trail off, and Tae surprises me by nodding sadly.

‘Jimin told me on the phone while you were talking to your neighbour,’ he says, and I shoot Jimin a look. ‘I thought it’d be better if you didn’t have to keep telling people!’ he exclaims defensively, and I nod with a roll of my eyes, thinking his reasoning is fair enough. ‘I’m really sorry, y/n. There’s not much someone can say in these kind of situations, but I just want you to know that I’m so sorry, and that it’s so unfair,’ he says gently, and I smile sadly. ‘Thank you. I appreciate that.’

‘Now, anyway. Shall we get on with this list? I know Jimin said that we can start with chalk and ice cream, but…’ Tae says, voice a lot more cheerful as he sidles over to me, twisting a lock of my hair around his finger, ‘I think we should dye your hair first.’ ‘Dye it?’ I say, lifting a hand to pat my hair protectively, having not yet worked up the courage. ‘Yep. I have trillions of box dyes upstairs – you can choose any colour you like,’ he says, and I look over at Jimin who grins, nodding encouragingly.

A few minutes later, I’m sat on a stool in Tae’s lavish bathroom, a towel resting over my shoulders as I inspect the boxes laid out on the counter in front of me, Taehyung and Jimin stood behind me as Coco and Tan play in Tae’s bedroom (they seem to be the best of friends now). ‘I’m thinking I shouldn’t go too wild considering it’ll be my funeral in a little while and my parents will probably want an open casket,’ I say musingly, Taehyung choking on air as Jimin holds back a smile.

‘Good idea. Maybe… highlights or ombre rather than the whole head?’ Jimin suggests, and I nod, feeling a little more at ease at not having to take the full plunge. ‘Okay… what colour then?’ Taehyung asks, and I look at all the colours. ‘Um… I don’t know. It’s really difficult,’ I say a little timidly, both boys nodding reassuringly, trying to give me a little more confident. ‘You’re right, it is difficult. How about… two platinum blonde streaks at the front of your hair?’ Taehyung asks, and I nearly choke.

‘Blonde streaks… like an e-girl?’ I ask, and Tae laughs, nodding. ‘It’s on trend, and I think you’ll be able to pull it off really well,’ Tae says thoughtfully, and whilst I’m still not convinced, Jimin nods excitedly. ‘Yes, that’d look amazing! Go on, y/n, you should!’ Jimin urges, eyes locked with mine in the mirror, and I sigh before nodding with a small smile. ‘Why not? Go for it,’ I say, the two of them exchanging a grin.

Before I know it, the front sections of my hair have been bleached and foiled, and a timer has been set for 20 minutes. And Jimin is contemplating dyeing his own hair. ‘I mean, I’ve had black for so long, and I need a change, right? I’ve been wanting to go bright for a while. But do I go a natural bright, or a colourful bright?’ he muses, Tae fake yawning at him in the mirror, coaxing a giggle from me, but Jimin doesn’t notice, too busy inspecting the dye boxes.

‘If it helps, I liked it when you went blond at school. You look nice blond,’ I say, and he looks at me in the mirror with a thoughtful look in his eyes. ‘Bright blond, or platinum blond, or dirty blond?’ he asks, and I think for a moment before answering, ‘bright blond.’ ‘Okay, let’s go bright blond then,’ he says instantly, disappearing off to get a towel from Tae’s airing cupboard.

‘That was… interesting,’ Tae says with a smirk at me in the mirror, and I look back at him confusedly. ‘How so?’ ‘He never takes anyone’s advice when it comes to his hair dye. And he never decides that quick,’ he says, his smirk even wider, but Jimin reappears before I can reply. I try to shake off Tae’s words as Jimin looks for the right box dye.

‘Maybe I should dye my hair too,’ Tae says, looking at his blue locks in the mirror. ‘I like you with brown hair, Tae. I’d like it if you had brown hair at my funeral,’ I say, and his eyes widen slightly at the mention of it again. ‘Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. We should all have natural colours for the funeral, out of respect,’ Jimin says, and I frown. ‘No, I don’t mind if you guys had the craziest colours ever. I just think you look so… classically handsome with brown hair, Tae,’ I say, and he looks smug at my compliment. ‘Okay,’ he grins, reaching for a box dye, Jimin and I exchanging a look in the mirror as he says, ‘guess I’m going brown then.’

‘When did you go brown, Tae? And you blond, Jimin?’ a voice suddenly says, making all three of us jump. There’s a man stood on Taehyung’s front garden, and I remember him as Jung Hoseok from school. He was cute back then, but he’s handsome now with his golden skin and his silky brown hair. ‘About… 90 minutes ago,’ Taehyung says, currently drawing what looks like a heart but could also be an alien, and Hoseok nods as though it’s perfectly normal.

‘Hey, y/n. Your hair looks nice,’ Hoseok says, shooting a heart-shaped smile at me, and I smile back. I’m still not used to my hair being blonde when it falls into my face, but it does look nice – Tae and Jimin did a good job. ‘Hey, Hoseok. Thank you. Tae and Jimin did it.’ ‘Please, call me Hobi. Anyway, how are you?’ he says before wincing, obviously already aware of my situation. Jimin really can’t keep his mouth shut. ‘I’m okay. How are you?’ I ask, and he nods, replying, ‘I’m good. Excited to work on this list.’ ‘Well, get some chalk and get your ass down here to help us,’ Jimin says from where he’s sprawled out on the gravel, drawing a dog (or attempting to, anyway).

We’ve been working on the chalk for just over an hour, listening to music from Taehyung’s speaker that’s sat in the doorway (Coco and Tan have already knocked it over several times whilst they’ve been playing). Bright chalk covers nearly all of Taehyung and Namjoon’s driveway – except for where Tae and Jimin’s cars are – rainbows, flowers, hearts, clouds surrounding us (as well as a bunny, a pineapple, a unicorn, a slice of watermelon and Jimin’s dog).

‘It looks like you’re nearly done,’ Hoseok observes, and I nod, wiping my forehead clean of sweat. ‘Yeah, we are. This isn’t as fun as I thought it was going to be,’ I say frankly, the others all laughing. ‘The fun comes from taking pictures with the chalk,’ Taehyung says, and I get up instantly. ‘Okay, let’s just take pictures and then carry on with the list,’ I say, the three of them laughing again as Jimin and Taehyung get up from the floor.

Taehyung instantly goes into director mode, making me lie down in a gap in the chalk. Jimin stands over me, one foot on either side of my waist, taking pictures on both the camera and his phone whilst Taehyung directs him on how to take them and me on how to pose, Hobi using his phone torch to give us better lighting (it doesn’t make much of a difference, but he’s trying).

I start to feel a little embarrassed, wondering what we must look like to Tae’s neighbours, before I remember that life is short – mine especially – so I should make the most of it without worrying what people think of me. After a few minutes (and a few dozen pictures), I get into it a little more, and the boys all begin hyping me up, Jimin making a few flirty comments here and there.

And then Jimin joins me, Taehyung taking the camera and Hobi directing us (he’s even more… bossy than Taehyung, instructing us down to the simplest things – the positions of our fingers, the direction we look in, the angle of our heads. Everything.)

‘You guys are gonna make her regret asking for help,’ a voice comes from the driveway, all of us looking over to see Namjoon and Jungkook from school stood there, leaning against the Jimin’s car. ‘Watch the car!’ Jimin exclaims, both of them heading over. ‘Just for the record, I didn’t ask for help. Jimin forc- I mean, Jimin volunteered his help,’ I say, correcting myself when he shoots me a dirty look, the others laughing.

‘It’s good to see you guys again. Did you walk here?’ I ask, and Namjoon nods. ‘It’s good to see you too. Jungkook picked me up from work, and then we dropped his car off and walked here. We all live really close to each other. Jimin, Jungkook and Hobi live on the road up there, and Jin and Yoongi live on the road down that way,’ Namjoon points, and I nod, thinking how sweet it is that they all live so close together.

‘JK, the blue’s gonna have to go,’ Tae says to the baby of their group. He’s changed more than all of them; he still has his big eyes and his cute bunny teeth, but that’s where the similarities end. He’s so handsome, and his body is lean and tall. Not as tall as Namjoon, though; he always was tall, but he’s grown even more now, and he’s gorgeous, with his dimples and blond hair. It’s like only beautiful people are allowed in their friendship group.

‘What?’ Jungkook asks, confused, his eyes wide. ‘You need to dye your hair brown again,’ Tae says, Jungkook frowning. ‘Why? I’ve only been blue for a couple days. Don’t you like it?’ ‘It looks great, but we’re all going natural out of respect, for y/n’s funeral,’ Jimin says casually, Jungkook choking and Namjoon slapping his back with wide eyes. ‘Jimin. You can’t just drop it in like that,’ Hobi reprimands, but I wave it off. ‘It’s fine, I’d prefer if we just spoke about it normally. Anyway, you don’t have to go brown, Jungkook, it’s okay,’ I say, Jungkook nodding, still looking a little shell-shocked.

‘Can we get up now?’ I say to Hobi from where I’m lying on the floor, shoulder-to-shoulder with Jimin, and he shakes his head. ‘If you want to make a scrapbook, you can’t just have pictures of you and Jimin in it. You need to get pictures with all of us,’ he says simply, and I bite my tongue, knowing I’ll just have to suck it up. Twenty minutes later, I’ve taken several pictures with all of the boys, and it was a little fun, I guess. We’ll have run out of film by the end of the day at this rate.

But my head’s starting to hurt a little, and I know I can’t take anymore. ‘Can we stop now? I’ve got a bit of a headache,’ I say, sitting up, and they all look a little worried. ‘Is it from being under the sun for so long?’ Hobi asks, nervously, but Tae speaks before I can reply; ‘no, it’s probably the hair dye.’ Jimin looks at them both incredulously. ‘I think it’s the tumour in her brain,’ he says slowly, and I can’t help but share his exasperation at their stupid suggestions, the boys all falling into a shocked silence as Jimin looks to me with thinly-veiled amusement.

‘Yeah, I think you’re right, Jimin, it probably is,’ I say, holding back a laugh. ‘Do you want some painkillers?’ Tae asks weakly, and I smile, shaking my head. ‘I’m okay, thanks. I might just have a little lie-down, if that’s okay?’ I ask, Tae nodding straight away. ‘I’ll show you to one of the guest rooms and you can have a shower, or a nap, if you want?’ Tae suggests as Hobi and Jimin help me up, my head dizzy and light, and I nod. ‘That sounds perfect.’

I blink in the slices of soft sunlight that fall between the blinds onto the bed, sitting up carefully. My head feels a lot better after that nap, which was the best nap of my life, by the way. Tae and Joon must be seriously rich, because this bed is the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in. And the room is super lavish, monochrome and clean, with a deep carpet and expensive looking furnishings. The bathroom was nice too, and I dragged out my shower a lot longer than usual, my skin smelling fresh with Tae and Namjoon’s expensive passionfruit body wash.

I slowly climb out of the bed, looking at myself in the floor to ceiling mirror on the wall opposite me. I still can’t get used to the hair, but it does look good. Tae has good taste, and he and Jimin put the dye in really well – the front sections of my hair are the perfect vibrant blonde. Tae put all these different haircare products in it after he washed out the dye, and it feels healthier than ever before. It’s obvious he’s dyed his hair plenty, because he’s clearly an expert. He could be a hairdresser if he wanted to.

I open my suitcase and get out a bralet to put on (my pyjamas are satin, and I’d rather not have my nipples visible through them in a room full of childhood friends I haven’t seen for years) and put it on beneath my black button-up pyjama shirt. I quickly splash some water over my face to wake myself up a little before I head downstairs, following the loud voices that lead me into the kitchen. Namjoon’s stood at the counter, making coffee, Jungkook, Jimin, Tae and Hobi sat around the breakfast bar with two new arrivals; Yoongi, and Seokjin. Seokjin literally hasn’t aged a day, and he’s somehow even more handsome than he was back then, with his plump lips and swept back dark hair.

‘Sleeping beauty awakes!’ Jimin exclaims when he sees me walk in, and I smile softly, still a little sleepy. His blond hair really does look good, the perfect summer colour, and Tae’s looks really good too – the dark brown locks make him look like a model. ‘y/n! They were right, you really are gorgeous!’ Jin exclaims, jumping up and pulling me into a hug, and I try to supress the embarrassment I’m feeling at them talking about me, and telling Jin I’m gorgeous. One thing I remember about Jin was that he never used to feel embarrassed, at anything. Sometimes he’d get a little shy, and his ears would go red, but he’d never hesitate to do something, even if it was embarrassing, if it would help to ease any awkwardness and make people feel comfortable.

His hugging me, despite us barely speaking when we went to school together and not having seen each other for years, is just what I need, and a perfect example of how kind Jin is.

‘Thanks, Jin, but look at you! You’re really handsome,’ I say honestly, feeling at ease after his hug, and he grins at me. ‘You didn’t call me handsome, y/n, but you called Tae and Jin handsome,’ Jimin pouts, and I roll my eyes at him. ‘She knows Tae and I are the best-looking, that’s why,’ Jin says, and Jimin scowls at him before looking back at me, still waiting for an answer. ‘Just because I didn’t say it out loud, doesn’t mean I didn’t think it,’ I say matter-of-factly, and he grins proudly. ‘What about the rest of us?’ Hobi asks, all of them flashing smiles at me, and I blink a few times. ‘You’re all handsome. Now stop smiling at me before I faint,’ I say, all of them laughing.

‘Coffee, y/n?’ Namjoon asks, but I shake my head. ‘I’m trying to cut down on my caffeine intake. Thanks, though,’ I say, and Jimin frowns. ‘y/n, it’s not like it matters,’ Jimin says, everyone wincing, and I laugh, nodding in agreement. ‘You’re right. I will have some, please, Namjoon,’ I say, everyone laughing again as Namjoon nods with a smile, getting another mug out for me. ‘Sit down, y/n,’ Tae says, patting the empty seat between him and Jungkook, and I sit in it, feeling a little self-conscious. I’m in my pyjamas, with no makeup and slight bedhead, and they’re all just… so handsome.

‘What do you guys do? For you all to be at home at… 5.38 on a Wednesday?’ I say, reading the time on the clock. I have all of the boys on social media, so I vaguely know some of what goes on in their lives, but not much. It’s hard to keep track of everyone from school. ‘Um, I own my own photography business. We do photography for weddings, parties, photo shoots, etc. and we’ve had some pretty high-profile clients, so we’re quite successful. And I do some art on the side, and some of my paintings have sold well, hence the fancy house. I get to work from home most of the time, because I mainly do editing – I’ve hired photographers, but I do a couple weddings here and there,’ Tae says, and I’m impressed, though not surprised. Tae always did have a talent for art, and he was the photographer for the school newspaper, so this career is perfect for him.

‘I own my own dance studio, and we only open on Monday and Tuesday 6-9, Thursday 3-6, and then Saturdays and Sundays,’ Hoseok says and, again, I’m not surprised; Hoseok always loved his dancing and he put more effort into dance than into his school work, but I guess it paid off.

‘I work for Hobi and Tae. I teach classes every day that it’s open, and then I do some photography work every couple weeks. And I do some shifts here and there at a tattoo shop,’ Jungkook says, and I think it’s really cute that he works for his friends, though I wonder if it sparks any arguments between them. I look at Jimin when Jungkook mentions the tattoo shop, and Jimin grins with a little nod, my stomach turning. Obviously, he was referring to where Jungkook works when he said he knew the perfect place for me to get a tattoo.

‘I do all the finances and admin and paperwork for Tae and Hobi, and I work for a small record label, producing and rapping,’ Namjoon says as he puts my coffee down in front of me, and I thank him with a smile, quite surprised to hear Namjoon’s career choice. To be fair, Namjoon excelled in all of his subjects, so he’d be good at whatever he chose to do.

‘I’m a part-time chef at this restaurant in the city, and I’m also studying to become an actor,’ Jin says, and I’m impressed. I didn’t know Jin was interested in cooking or in acting, but now that I look at him, he really does look like an actor, and I could imagine him as a chef too, with one of those big white hats.

‘I’m a barista, as you know, I teach a couple piano lessons a week, and I do some rapping and producing at the same company as Namjoon,’ Yoongi explains, and I remember how good he was at piano. He was chosen to play at one of these awards’ evenings we had at school, and we were all so impressed at how good he was. Rapping, though? I never knew he could rap.

Everyone looks at Jimin to answer, but he looks back blankly before saying, ‘I already told her my job.’ They all nod before looking back at me. ‘What do you do, y/n?’ Jin asks, and I roll my eyes. ‘I work part-time as an assistant at a law firm, and I’m studying to become a lawyer. Or I was anyway,’ I trail off, a little sad that I’ll never be able to do my dream job, and the boys all give me pitying looks. Except for Jimin, who says, ‘damn, y/n, you’re clever. Law student, huh?’ I nod with a smile, and he grins. ‘You could’ve got in on the family businesses, and done all the boring legal shit for us,’ Jimin says, and I grimace, internally endeared at him calling them the family businesses. ‘I’d have passed. Sorry,’ I say, the boys all laughing.

‘Okay, enough chit chat. Let’s carry on with your list,’ Jin says, picking it up from where it sits in the middle of the island, and I take a sip of my coffee. ‘Should I wash the chalk from your driveway?’ I ask Tae and Joon, and they both shake their heads. ‘I was about to, but Jin stopped me. He wants some pictures with you and the chalk,’ Tae says, and I let out a sigh, all them laughing. ‘We’ve literally spent all of our time on the chalk so far. Your four days are gonna fly by,’ I say to Jimin, who waves it off with an easy grin.

‘Stop trying to worry me. Four days is plenty. You go take some pictures with Jin, and Yoongi, while I set up the next thing for us to tick off,’ Jimin says, getting up and pulling me off my seat, pushing me towards the door. ‘Make sure you get plenty of good pictures,’ Jimin says to Tae with a mischievous glance at me, who nods, and I roll my eyes. ‘We’re gonna run out of film,’ I say, but Jimin shakes his head with a grin. ‘I went out whilst you were asleep and got some more supplies, including a few more boxes of film,’ he grins, and I let out a deep sigh as Tae and Jin drag me outside, Yoongi trailing behind, and Jimin waving at us from the doorway.

‘Done with your photoshoot?’ Jimin asks as we walk into the living room. ‘Yes, thank God,’ I say, throwing myself down onto the sofa. ‘Jin, you’re way too demanding. We were out there for forty-five minutes,’ Yoongi says, flopping down next to me, and Jin scowls at us from the doorway. ‘Tae wasn’t getting my angles!’ he exclaims, and Tae’s eyes widen. ‘You’re not blaming this on me. I own a photography business, so don’t accuse me of being a bad photographer,’ Tae says, Jin opening his mouth to speak, but Jimin interrupts; ‘don’t argue. y/n’s dying.’

They go silent, and I burst out laughing as Jimin grins at me. ‘You can’t drop that into every conversation, Jimin,’ I laugh, the others relaxing a little, and Jimin shrugs. ‘I can. Just watch. Anyway, before you get comfy, we need to go into the dining room,’ he says vaguely with a knowing grin, and I narrow my eyes at him. ‘I don’t want to, because of that look on your face,’ I say suspiciously, and he laughs. ‘Come on, y/n, we gotta tick the next thing off your list,’ Jimin says amusedly, holding a hand out to me, and I take it after a moment of hesitation, letting him pull me up. He doesn’t let go of my hand, dragging me behind him into the dining room, and it takes a little while for me to register what’s going on.

The table is set up with these different machines, and Jungkook sits at the table with an empty seat beside him, a lamp set up to cast a bright light onto the empty chair. And then I spot the little book on the table, sat beside a bunch of needles lined up on a small white sheet.

Jungkook’s about to give me a tattoo.

‘Oh, hell no,’ I say, turning around, but Jimin grabs me around the waist before I can walk away, picking me up and carrying me over to the door as I struggle around in his arms, the other boys watching amusedly. But Jimin’s freakishly strong, and my struggling doesn’t work. He puts me down in the empty chair, and I pout at him before looking around at the others. Tae, Jin and Yoongi are stood in one doorway, blocking it, and Namjoon and Hobi stand in the other, blocking that too. I literally cannot leave, and when I look down at the needles, my stomach turns.

‘Do you want to look through the book?’ Jungkook asks gently, and I sigh. ‘Not really,’ I say, all of them laughing as he hands me the book, and I flip through it. ‘Can you all stop looking at me? Or at least put on some music so I don’t feel so tense,’ I say, more laughter rippling around the room as Taehyung gets his phone out of his pocket and taps the screen a couple times, gentle RnB music floating out into the room from the ceiling. They must have a built-in sound system – their house really is boujee.

I scan the book and some of the designs are cute, but none of them really stand out to me. ‘Struggling to choose one?’ Jungkook asks quietly, the others having conversations between themselves, and I nod. He rolls up his sleeve, and shows me the various tattoos that cover his arm and hand. He has a flower, a skeleton hand, the word ‘Truth’, the woozy emoji, a purple heart, a little crown and some black stripes with various numbers and letters on his hand. ‘They all stand for different things. Like, for example, this is the tiger flower, which is my birth flower, and the letters all stand for the guys. So you could get some that are meaningful to you, or you could just get something that you think looks pretty. It’s up to you,’ he says, and I nod, thinking.

I decide on getting my birth flower, a little bolt of lightning and my parents’ initials. ‘Why don’t you get something summer related?’ Jimin suggests softly, and I think before nodding. ‘Like… the sun, or something?’ I ask, and he shrugs. ‘Whatever you want. You could get a picture or a quote, anything you want. It’s up to you, y/n. It’s your body,’ he says, and I nod, thinking about the first idea I had for a tattoo when I wrote that list. ‘How about ‘we’ll always have summer’… or is that silly?’ I ask, and Jungkook shakes his head straight away.

‘Of course it isn’t silly,’ he says, but Jimin looks at me thoughtfully. ‘Who’s we?’ he asks, and I sigh. ‘I don’t know. A general ‘we’, I guess? Like… as bleak as life gets, as boring, as sad, as hard as life is, there’s always the hope, the promise, the excitement of summer. So no matter what happens, we’ll always have summer,’ I explain, Jungkook’s eyes widening, and Jimin nodding at me with a small smile. ‘Wow, that’s so deep, y/n. You’re so clever,’ Jungkook says, and I laugh, waving it off.

‘Have you decided yet?’ Hobi asks, and I nod, feeling a little nervous. ‘I’m getting my birth flower, a bolt of lightning, my parents’ initials, and ‘we’ll always have summer’. What do you think?’ I ask, and Hobi smiles, looking impressed. ‘You’re getting four?’ he asks, and I laugh. ‘Might as well.’ ‘Where do you want them?’ Jungkook asks, and I hesitate. ‘Where does it hurt least?’ ‘Your ass,’ Jimin says with a grin, and I swat at him whilst the others all laugh. ‘The least painful is usually your back, the outside of your arms, the inside of your forearm and the outsides of your thighs. Hands aren’t too bad, and nor are shoulders,’ Jungkook explains.

After a lot of deliberation, we make the decision as a group of where I should have them; birth flower on my inner forearm, my parents’ initials on my right ring finger, the lightning bolt on the side of my ribcage/side-boob, and the quote on the back of my left shoulder. ‘How long will it take, Jungkook?’ I ask as Jungkook sets up all his equipment, the others arguing about what we should have for dinner. ‘Please, call me JK, or Kook, or whatever. And, it shouldn’t take longer than a few hours, because they’re all quite small. The quote will take the longest, and I can usually do quotes in an hour and a half, so I’d say… three hours, maybe three and a half?’ he says, and I feel dread at the thought of being in pain for that long. But it’s fine. I’ll be fine.

‘Are you still not done?’ Taehyung demands as he enters the room, Jungkook’s eyes still fixed on my finger as he sighs. ‘Relax, I’m doing the last one now. I’ll be done in a few minutes,’ he says, and Tae huffs. ‘You’re taking ages. We want to do the next thing on her list.’ ‘Don’t rush me, Tae. Tattooing is an art,’ Jungkook says calmly, Tae rolling his eyes from behind Jungkook’s back, and I hold back a laugh.

It actually wasn’t that painful, surprisingly. The worst thing was having to stay still for so long. He started with my birth flower, and it was fascinating to watch the ink appear on my skin, at first. The fascination soon wore off, and I was itching to move, but I knew I’d just ruin it if I did.

Then he moved onto the quote. I had to tie my hair up into a bun and sit backwards on a chair whilst he did it, and Jimin fed me some of the Chinese food they’d ordered, keeping me entertained with his stupid antics. Jin tried to feed Jungkook, but when he choked Jungkook with a chopstick, Jungkook decided he’d just eat afterwards.

And then he did my lightning bolt. I had to take off my top and unclasp my bra, holding it in place with my arm out of the way so Jungkook could get to my side-boob easily, and I told the boys that none of them could come in whilst he was doing that one, because the bra kept slipping. Jungkook was very professional though, and I can’t even imagine how many boobs he’s seen over his time working as a tattoo artist.

And now he’s doing my fingers. I’m used to the stinging pain now, and I’m very proud of myself for not crying. Tae shows me some funny videos on his phone whilst Jungkook carries on with the tattoo. ‘And… done!’ he exclaims, sitting back in his chair with a sigh. I look at my hand, pleased with how the tattoo looks. ‘Thank you, JK, it’s great.’ ‘No problem. Right… let me give you the aftercare speech,’ he says as he begins to put the weird jelly stuff and a bandage onto my finger. It’s weird how professional he is – I saw him passed out drunk at house parties more times than I can remember, and now he’s giving me tattoos and telling me how to look after them properly.

‘Don’t remove these bandages for 24 hours, and when you do, wash the tattoos, gently, with an unscented soap and water, and pat it dry afterwards. Put on some of this ointment twice a day, if you can, but you don’t need to put on another bandage. Wash them a few times a day, gently, with unscented soap and water, and always pat them dry, and then put on an unscented sensitive skin moisturiser. Obviously, you’re going to tick those things off your bucket list, and I’m sure a couple involve being in the water and sun. We usually advise against being in the water and sun, but obviously, you’re not going to do that, so just don’t be in the sun for too long, and put plasters over them when you go in the water, to try and stop them being infected. It’s not really that big of a deal if they do get infected because…’ ‘I’m dying anyway.’ ‘Yeah, that. So don’t worry about it too much, but just try your best to be careful with them. Oh, and don’t go into hot water, if you can help it. Have cool showers, and not for too long, either. I think that’s it, but if you have any questions, just get my number from Jimin and text or call me. Do you have any questions now?’

‘Only one; would you rather I transferred you the money, or do you want cash?’ ‘y/n, don’t be ridiculous. I’m not charging you,’ he says as though it’s obvious, and I frown. ‘Jungkook.’ ‘No, y/n, I’m not taking money from you.’ ‘Why not? I haven’t got anything else to spend it on, remember? And it’s taken you ages!’ ‘It doesn’t matter. I’m not accepting any money from you, and that’s it. I do free tattoos for the boys all the time – Jimin’s got several from me. Just see it as a gift from an old friend,’ he says simply, with a grin, and I can’t help the small smile on my face. ‘Thank you, JK,’ I say, and he grins even wider, his cute little bunny teeth on display. ‘No problem, y/n.’

‘Are you done now? Can we move on to the next thing?’ Tae says excitedly, Jungkook nodding with a laugh at his eagerness. ‘Come on, then,’ Tae says, grabbing my hand and pulling me up, dragging me out of the dining room. He leads me towards the back door, pushing it open and moving aside to let me out first, and I gasp when I see the garden. ‘I know it’s not that big but it’s the best I could do,’ Jimin says as I slip on the sliders that he puts down on the floor in front of me, stepping out onto the light wood decking.

Tae and Namjoon’s garden is beautiful – it’s obvious at least one of the two loves gardening. The decking has steps down onto the grass which is healthy and neat, a dark, rich green, and there are trees and flowers of all different colours lining the light wood fence that runs around the garden. Fairy lights are strung up around the fence, casting a warm yellow glow across the space and there’s a fire pit in the middle of the garden, a small fire inside it with a garden furniture set placed around it, four armchairs and two two-seaters.

‘Oh, my God, this is great! Did you already have a fire pit?’ I ask Tae who shakes his head. ‘Jimin went out to buy one earlier,’ he says, and I look to Jimin with a frown. ‘You shouldn’t have. Let me give you the money for it,’ I say, and he shakes his head before I even finish speaking. ‘I don’t think so. Come on,’ he says, holding out an arm to me, and I take it with a begrudging smile. He leads me down the decking steps, across the grass to the bonfire and he sits down in an armchair as I sit in the two-seater beside it, Tae and JK following behind, the leftovers of the Chinese food in Jungkook’s hands.

‘Where are the others?’ I ask, and Jimin looks a little sheepish. ‘I, um, went to get supplies when you were sleeping, right? Well, I bought the fire pit, but I forgot all the other stuff,’ he explains, rubbing the back of his neck embarrassedly, and I hold back a laugh. ‘What other stuff?’ I ask, just as Jin and Hobi appear through the back door. ‘The biscuits, the chocolate, the marshmallows, the roasting sticks. Everything else,’ Jin says exasperatedly, the two of them coming to join us.

‘Where are the other two?’ Tae asks as they take their seats, Jin taking a prawn cracker from Jungkook’s lap, the boy shooting him a dirty look. ‘Putting the stuff onto plates for us, because a couple of us are too messy and, apparently, we’ll drop melted marshmallows and chocolate onto the grass and ruin it,’ Hobi says with a roll of his eyes, and I have a feeling he’s quoting Namjoon. ‘Am I wrong, though? There’s still the patch of grass that’s discoloured after Jimin spilled beer on it!’ Namjoon exclaims, holding blankets in his arms, Yoongi following behind with a tray in his hands, paper plates atop the tray. ‘How many times do I have to apologise for ruining your grass before you forget?’ Jimin asks tiredly as Namjoon and Yoongi take their seats, and Namjoon gives him a hard look. ‘As many times as it takes for the grass to return to its proper colour,’ Namjoon says, and I can feel an argument brewing so I quickly change the subject.

‘Shall we get a picture?’ I ask, not realising that another argument is about to start, over who’s going to take the picture. ‘Oh, my God, we’ve been arguing for five minutes! Just let me take the picture!’ Yoongi exclaims (after five minutes of arguing), his annoyance only half-hearted, and I pout. ‘No, Yoongi, I want you in the picture. I want us all in the picture,’ I say, Jin sighing and grabbing his temples before sending Namjoon to ask their nice neighbour, Mr Lee. I feel bad for disturbing him at 9.09pm on a Wednesday, but they insist. It’s more than a little awkward when he starts asking questions and Jimin says with a grin, ‘we’re ticking off y/n’s summer bucket list because she’s got a brain tumour and she’s going to die in a week.’ It’s like he can’t take the pictures quick enough after that, practically sprinting out of the garden once he’s done.

Yoongi gives us all our plates, Jungkook balancing his on one knee whilst he eats his Chinese food, and I feel pretty stupid when all of them instantly know how to put their s’mores together. ‘Have you never had s’mores before?’ Jimin asks, and I shake my head sheepishly. ‘Here, let me show you. You gotta just put a marshmallow on a stick,’ he says, and I copy the way he spears it on the stick. ‘Then you hold it over the fire for a little while, until it goes a bit brown, and then turn it over the other way,’ he says, holding his stick over the fire, and I do the same, turning it the other way once it’s browned a little. ‘And then you get a piece of chocolate and put it on top of a biscuit. And then you put the marshmallow on top of that. And then you put a piece of chocolate on top of the marshmallow, and another biscuit on top of the chocolate. Then you take it off the stick and… you got your s’more!’ he says, holding his s’more up with a flourish. It looks a lot neater than mine, but I’m still proud of myself for managing to not set fire to anything. ‘Just wait a little for it to cool down. Kook learned that the hard way,’ Jimin says pointedly, the other boy pursing his lips embarrassedly as we all laugh.

The sky is still high and light with clouds, though the sun has disappeared over the horizon, the moon a pale white circle against the soft blue. The air is still warm, but not with the humidity of earlier today, a cool tinge to the breeze that glides across my skin. It’s the perfect summer evening, made even better by the light conversations we have and the alcohol that Taehyung brings out for us – Jimin, Yoongi and Jin drink their soju like it’s going out of fashion, Jungkook, Namjoon and Hobi nursing beers instead whilst Tae and I sip on our Malibu and coke (very little Malibu actually in it). The s’mores are amazing, the warm gooey marshmallow, rich melty chocolate and crunchy sweet biscuits a perfect combination – whoever came up with s’mores is an actual genius.

‘Do you want some more s’mores, y/n?’ Hobi asks once my plate is empty, and I groan, the boys all laughing. ‘I think I’ll explode if I have another. I’ve eaten more today than I have in the last week,’ I say, clutching my stomach. ‘I’ll have one, Hobi,’ Jungkook says with a cheeky grin, and Hobi shoots him a glare, no real venom in it. ‘Get yourself one.’ ‘You offered to y/n!’ ‘You’re not dying in a week,’ Hobi says, eyes instantly flitting to me to see if I mind, but I’m already bursting into laughter, my head falling onto Jin’s shoulder which is shaking from his laughter too.

‘Are we terrible for joking about death?’ Jungkook says once we’ve all calmed down, and I sigh. A cold breeze rushes past us, biting at my skin, and I shiver, pulling my blanket closer around me and shuffling forward in my seat so I sit closer to the bonfire. It’s gotten so much cooler so quickly, all of us wrapped up in blankets. ‘What can we do but joke about it? I think I’d cry if we didn’t,’ I say into the silence, the boys all just listening as I stare into the flickering flames, deeply inhaling the smoky scent in the air.

‘It still doesn’t feel real. How do you prepare yourself for death?’ I ask, voice a little shaky, and Jin puts a hand on my shoulder gently. ‘I wish we could tell you, y/n, and make it easier for you, but it will never be easy to see someone of your age die. Old people, who have lived their lives, they can prepare for death. I don’t think you can. And I’m sorry for that, I really am. We all are,’ he says softly, his kind words bringing a sad smile to my face. ‘Thank you. Thank you all, for doing all this today, and Namjoon and Taehyung, for opening your home to me,’ I say, all of them reflecting my sad smile back at me.

‘We’d have done it even if you weren’t dying, y/n. Please, don’t think we’re only doing this because you’re dying. We’ve all known each other since we were kids. And look at all you did for us. We’d have done all of this for you regardless of your health if you asked us to,’ Namjoon says, and I look at him in confusion, wondering what he means. ‘What did I do for all of you?’ ‘We were talking about this whilst you were asleep. Remember when I was riding my bike past your house, and I fell off it?’ Namjoon asks, the others laughing at the mention, and all of a sudden, a memory I didn’t even know I had appears in my mind.

We must’ve been around 7; I don’t remember what I was doing, but I saw Namjoon on the floor outside of my house through the window, clutching onto his knee with his bike beside him. I ran and got the plasters from where they were in one of the kitchen cupboards, and practically sprinted outside. I sat down on the floor beside Namjoon, and there were tears in his eyes, and his knee was bloody. Not knowing that you’re supposed to clean a cut and disinfect it, I’d just put a plaster on for him, and then my parents saw what was going on, and took Namjoon inside to properly clean the cut, me following them in with his bike in my arms, and then they phoned his mum to let her know what had happened. Our school was a tight knit community and all the parents were friends with each other – they all had each other’s phone numbers.

‘How do you remember that?’ I ask, smiling at the memory, and he grins. ‘It’s the first act of kindness I remember experiencing. And it might have been simple, but it taught me to be kind, and do things for people when I didn’t have to, because that’s what you did for me,’ he says, and then all of the boys share the stories of things I did for them over the years we went to school together.

For Jin, I’d lost one of his crayons and then I’d brought in a whole new pack for him. When his mum mentioned it to my parents and thanked them for buying Jin a new pack, they’d had been confused; they hadn’t bought a new set of crayons. I’d taken in one of my own sets for him without telling them. Jin brought it into school every day and shared it with me and only me, and wrote both of our names on the packaging so that everyone would know that they belonged to the both of us.

For Yoongi, I’d recorded his piano performance at the awards’ evening because I’d overheard his mum saying she’d forgotten her video camera at home and didn’t have a smart phone to record it on. I’d sent it to him that night, letting him know why I’d recorded it, and he’d thanked me before showing his mum. I never knew this at the time, but apparently she was so happy that she cried, and made Yoongi give me a present to thank me. I didn’t know that Yoongi was the one who put the thank you card in my locker with a necklace in it a couple weeks later – he’d been too shy to give it to me face to face (I’d been so confused, wondering who was thanking me and for what). I still wear the necklace sometimes – it’s a silver chain with a little butterfly pendant that rests between my collarbones.

For Hobi, I’d spotted a random bag in the school car park, and checked the belongings to see that it was Hobi’s – his wallet had been in there, along with a load of money and some dance clothes. I’d brought it in the next day and gave it to him, and he’d thanked me profusely. What I didn’t know at the time was that his mum had worked multiple jobs in order to fund his dancing, including buying him all that dance gear, and that he’d thought that someone would’ve stolen it all because they were worth a lot, as well as stealing his wallet. But instead, it’d been returned back to him, with everything still in there.

For Taehyung, I’d been the only one to say I liked his drawing, back when we were little kids. It was of a little alien cartoon character, with a heart shaped head (the same thing he’d been drawing in chalk on the driveway earlier), and everyone else laughed at him and called it silly and said it looked nothing like the real cartoon. But when I told him it was nice and that I thought it was really good, it made him want to draw it more, before he started drawing other things too, and his passion for art had been sparked, all because of a little compliment from me when we could barely write our names.

For Jungkook, I’d been helping clean Dahyun’s house after her house party, and I found him passed out in the upstairs bathroom. I got Dahyun to help me get him into my car, drove him home (I knew his address from a party he’d had once), used his house keys to get him in his house, helped him lie down on the sofa, forced him to drink some water and then left a note beside a full bottle of water to letting him know who’d dropped him off at home. And then I’d locked up after myself and posted the keys through the letterbox. His mum had phoned my parents the next day to thank me profusely, and brought over some cupcakes – they were amazing, by the way.

And for Jimin, maybe the most important of them all – I’d done my end-of-year presentation on eating disorders. We had to do the presentations for our language grade, to show that we could speak with fluency and precision and accuracy, and we were told to do it on an interesting topic so that we would be motivated to write an engaging presentation. Almost everyone else did theirs on superficial things, like their hobby or their favourite celebrity. Mine was one of the only serious ones. Everyone had praised mine – I always was good at language – and I got one of the highest two grades (Namjoon and I competed for the top of the class in every lesson we had together). But what I didn’t know was that, thanks to my presentation, Jimin realised he had an eating disorder. He was virtually starving himself, not eating for days at a time, whilst over exercising, because he hated the way his body looked. And because of the helplines and websites I put at the end of the presentation, he sought help, and spoke to his parents about it. He went to the doctor with his mother, and they put him on a diet plan to get him back to being healthy. I helped him to be healthy again.

My eyes are teary when Jimin finishes speaking. I’m so touched that he remembers, that they all remember the acts of kindness I did for them. And whilst Jimin’s was unintentional, it was still so important, and I’m proud of young me for deciding to do her presentation on a serious topic. I’m proud of her for being such a kind person all the time. This truly is karma – I did these nice things for them back then and they’re repaying that kindness back to me when I need it most. And then I realise why Jimin was so desperate to help me – he just wants to help me like I helped him.

‘So, really, y/n, don’t thank us. We owe you,’ Namjoon says, all of them nodding in agreement, and I beam at them, tears beginning to spill down my face. ‘Don’t cry, because you’ll make me cry!’ Jungkook shrieks, all of us laughing as Jin hands me a tissue, and I dab the tears away. ‘God, what’s wrong with me? I never cry this much usually,’ I say embarrassedly, and Jimin grins. ‘Don’t be embarrassed about crying. I think I’d have cried out all of the water in my body if I were you,’ Jimin says, coaxing a laugh from me. ‘Me, too,’ Jungkook says, sniffling a little, and we all burst into laughter when we see that his eyes are full of tears. ‘My God,’ Jin says, his lip curled up in mock disgust, ‘you really are a cry baby.’ ‘Can you blame me?’ Jungkook asks defensively, wiping his eyes, and Jin’s eyes widen. ‘Yes! You’re not the one dying!’ he exclaims, setting the rest of us off again, our laughter carrying in the cool summer air.

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poisonedapples · 5 years ago

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The Dark Side of Christmas

Summary: Christmas is known as the happiest, most welcoming time of year. But when you’re Roman, that’s not always the case.

TRIGGERS: Roman has PTSD but it’s not stated by name in the fic, fighting, swearing, mentions of past shootings, mention of a car accident/explosion, blood. panic, past death and grieving, mental health problems, anxiety, dissociation and flashbacks, Christmas, tell me if you notice any more, cause this one has a lot

Note: HAPPY LATE HOLIDAY! This was supposed to be done by Christmas, but this month has Sucked so I’m using that as my excuse. My friend @theultimatemomfriend was my secret santa for something I did in the Powerless server, so here is your gift mixed with my own self indulgence! Hope you like it <3

But also , thank you to @romansleftshoulderpad and @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 for saving me some time and editing it for me. I appreciate you two

He was driving in a car.

She was screaming at him at the top of her lungs, all about how he was a failure, couldn’t do simple things, is only a disappointment to everyone that’s ever known him. The screaming was like a concert speaker right next to his ear; loud, loud, loud.

He couldn’t steer in these conditions. Not with a rocky road that bent in so many directions, a skinny single lane on a cliff with traffic cones instead of a protective railing. His foot was all the way on the brake, yet the car was speeding down the road faster than he’s ever driven before. The tires were screeching. She was still yelling.

It’s so loud.

She jumped on top of him suddenly, grabbing a hold of his neck with her long nails digging into his throat. Everything burned, he couldn’t breathe, and no one was steering the car anymore.

It’s so loud.

High pitched screeching echoed from nowhere. She was still screaming in his ear while his neck fell asleep, desperately trying to pull away her hand in order to breathe.

You’re going to die.

The car fell down the cliff. Completely on its side, such a smooth yet loud fall, the car came crashing into the woods under it, fire consuming his sight and all of his brain, the loud crash coming to a complete, deafening silence after an overwhelming boom.

Roman’s body jerked awake.

He scrunched up his shoulders to immediately cover the tingling part of his neck where he was being strangled in his dream. His mind was foggy while his body felt ready to run a marathon, heart beating fast and every inch of his skin shaking violently. Roman curled into a ball trying to calm down in the pitch black room, to no avail.

Phone. Phone. Phone has light, where’s my phone-

Roman’s Rapunzel figure on his bedside table crashed to the floor from his lack of coordination, pretty stones meant for healing and love moving out of their places and into undusted territory. Roman dropped his phone on his chest once he grabbed it but was only grateful it didn’t hit the floor this time, turning on the bright screen and blinding his eyes.

It was better than the darkness.

5:48 AM, his clock said, the lock screen blurry-looking because of Roman’s unfocused eyes and the tears pricking out certainly not helping. But he could tell there were no notifications over the night.

It’s always weird when he has to delete the Instagram app. His phone doesn’t buzz nearly as much without it.

He unlocked his phone and opened up one of his word puzzle game apps. Although it pained him to admit that Logan was right, lighthearted thinking games helped him on nights like these. Where all he needed was to calm down, but no people were around to help him with that.

As the game loaded and he was wondering what words to make with the letters F, I, G, U, E, and R, Roman clung tightly to his giant stuffed animal Magic Bitch the Queen, a rainbow pegacorn that was perfect for squishing. The name only made it better. Weirdly more calming.

Things were calming down. He definitely won’t be able to go back to sleep tonight, but given the date it was a miracle he felt as calm as he did—

“Virgil, quiet down-”

“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want!”

“Virgil!”

...Nevermind.

Roman curled in on himself at the sound of the yelling. He hated fighting. He hated it with a burning passion, loud noises made him jump out of his skin and it was only worse when it was them yelling. They’re usually a lot more calm when Roman is around, but sometimes things just...got out of hand.

This was one of those times.

“This bitch thinks he can just walk in here and act like he owns the damn place! Well newsflash fucker, you’re not the only person who cares about Roman! Stop acting like you can fucking control him!”

“I’m not controlling him! Is it a crime for me to want to care about my own brother!? Last time I checked, you’re not family!”

“Remus-“

“Oh cram it, calculator watch!”

“Go fuck yourself, you walking STD!”

“Virgil Foster! If you end up waking Roman, I swear-”

Patton paused mid sentence when he saw the figure standing in the middle of the steps. Everyone looked over at Roman, his hand fiddling with the end of his sleeve and way too tired eyes. His posture a little too straight, smile so dead it was hardly a smile at all. “It’s alright, Pat. I was awake anyway.”

“I assume another nightmare?” Logan asked.

Roman went to the kitchen and grabbed a glass from the cupboard. Filling it with milk until it was overflowing, Roman smiled. “You know me so well.”

Patton’s face grew concerned while he chugged some of the milk, Remus crossing his arms and glaring at Virgil. “You wouldn’t be having these problems if you’d stayed at my place instead of this dump.”

“This dump is our home, trash panda. Watch your fucking mouth.”

“Ironic.” Remus towered over Virgil with his hands on his hips when he stepped closer, Virgil hissing when he got too close. “All I’m saying is that isn’t it better for Roman to be with family who can help, instead of stuck in the same place that caused all this in the first place? With people who don’t even understand?”

“You know that I’m here, right? That I can hear you talking about me? Cause I can hear you talking about me.”

“Or maybe he needs to be around family that actually cares instead of being around the same deadbeat bastard who only comes visit to be the same pile of dog shit he makes everyone step in!”

Patton sighed. “Virgil, please stop. Can we please just go back to bed? Without all the fighting?”

The looks on Remus’ face was too taunting. Blood boiled in Virgil’s veins from three weeks of dirty glares at each other while he watched his best friend curl around him for comfort instead of anyone else. The cockiness of him trying to take Roman off to Florida for the holiday, like he was the only one who cared. He hated his stupid gross smile and how Roman snickered at his dirty jokes, he hated how he was genuinely helping and how useless their help was.

How threatening this bitch actually made him feel. But Virgil refused to lose.

“I’ll go to bed when this bitch stops acting like he can walk into my fucking house and act like he owns the fucking place! Eat my food, use my water, and steal my fucking friend because apparently this human embodiment of the feeling you get right before you fucking projectile vomit is the reincarnation of Christ!”

“Virgil!”

“And I’ll go to bed when this ‘Roman’s my best friend’ wannabe stops getting in between my family because his self esteem’s so low in the ground that sharks can have sex on it!”

“Fuck you!”

“JUST SHUT UP!”

Everyone paused when Roman screamed, his hand too weak to hold onto his glass and his hands shaking too hard to fiddle with the end of his sleeve anymore. His eyes were glassy and his chest felt like it was caving in on itself, with evil butterflies chewing apart his ribs and leaving hollow discomfort. Patton’s eyes went soft as he slowly approached Roman, keeping a loose grip on his hand and saying something to him that Roman wasn’t listening to in order to calm him down. But he was just tired. So tired. Tired of the yelling and the fear and the everything that he just wanted to get away.

So he did.

“Roman?” It was all he’d heard from Pat even after all his talking, but Roman still decided to ignore it. He quickly slipped on some shoes and grabbed his coat from the closet, opening the front door without another word.

Patton’s eyes widened when he realized what was happening. “Roman, wait-“

But just like that, the door had slammed behind him and he was making his way down the street.

He could already see his therapist’s “I don’t get paid enough for the shit you put me through” face when he eventually talks about this, but that was future Roman’s problem.

...He still had no clue where he was going.

That was always the worst part about Roman’s “run away from your problems” habit. He never had any plan. He could end up three towns over, he could end up across the street. In one of the first incidents, he ended up at a McDonald’s right on the outskirts of the state and fell asleep in the bathroom stall. When he called Logan and told him where he was, it was an hour drive to come get him since they didn’t trust him to drive back in his state. That’s why they first started looking for a therapist for him.

He wished he had his car this time. Walking around in freezing weather with pajama pants is cold.

Roman made his way down the hill where the house was to head downtown, where a good handful of stores were open at every time of day. He needed the heat.

“Eileen, you will pay for making me lose my beauty sleep.”

“You’ll be okay. It wasn’t working for you anyway.”

“...Hey!”

...And the distraction.

It was at 11:30 when Ellie woke him up. Dragging him out of bed and making him help her “sneak” out—if you could call going through the front door sneaking—, they ended up in a supermarket at around midnight on Christmas Eve.

“I got Remus this giant ass octopus stuffed animal that was literally like ninety dollars, but I need a gag gift for him. Something completely and utterly stupid, and I need you to help me look for it. So I can go home sooner.”

“A giant octopus isn’t a gag gift to you?”

“He’ll love it and you know it.”

“...Touche. Maybe just get him toilet paper?”

“Too enjoyable. Too useful. He’ll set the rolls on fire in the backyard or something.”

“...Nevermind then!”

The first store Roman found with its lights still on was a small convenience store next to a gas station. His legs were starting to get slow from the cold, teeth chattering slightly with his arms tucked close to his body like a penguin.

Roman went inside.

“Oh my God, Roman, it’s perfect.”

“What is it?”

“‘Maybe you touched your balls’ hand sanitizer. I’m getting five.”

Roman tried not to laugh too hard, especially when the store was so quiet at this hour, but he couldn’t help it. With slight sleep deprivation and the look on his sister’s face, Roman burst out a laugh and gave Ellie a lazy push. Ellie took five of the hand sanitizers and piled them in her hands, making their way toward the checkout.

Alone in a store on the night of Christmas Eve.

Roman didn’t want to think about it, but then again, he never did. And every time he focused on one thing, half of his brain was still on his sister.

His throat felt weird.

“I’m dreaming of a white...christmas…”

Ellie was basically skipping on her way to the checkout. She loved old Christmas songs, and not being able to resist the temptation to perform must be another “Sanders Siblings” thing.

Roman was staring at the chip aisle when his chest started to expand, his hands growing weak and absolute fear taking over. Why was breathing so hard? What is it now?

His eyes became glassy again, his vision becoming more distant and distorted until he couldn’t tell what he was looking at. But his ears seemed to focus on something else. Something so distant but close at the same time, ringing in his ears while he felt like he was looking through a TV screen.

“And since we’ve no place to go...let it snow, let it snow, let it snow…”

Fuck. Shit. Roman started fumbling in his pockets for earbuds, but in his haste to leave the house, they were forgotten in his room. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

He could hear the silence of the store, but in the back of his brain he could feel the sound of gunshots.

“He’s alive, but he’s been hit around five times. Get him in the ambulance.”

He knew there wasn’t hands on him. He knew there wasn’t any blood, his or otherwise, on the floor. But it sure as hell didn’t feel like it.

“Duck!”

There was no figure that caught Roman’s eye as they made their way to checkout. There was no moment of adrenaline as he tried to cover his sister, ducking for cover while people walking down the street also screamed. There was no glass breaking. There was no shots of pain as he realized the blood on the floor was his. There was no noise. No screaming. No sirens or commands being shouted or deafening silence that made Roman want to scream. It didn’t exist.

But it didn’t feel like it.

He didn’t know how to work his limbs, his body felt fake and his vision was just a TV screen looking at a world that felt anything but real. His ribs felt like they should be in pain for more than just his shaky breaths and his back should be cold from the hard floor instead of being supported by a cooler door.

What was the pattern again? Three things you can hear—wait, no, fuck, what was it? What was it?

There was blood going through his jacket and blood on his fingers. His thumb was cut from a piece of glass and he couldn’t move off the floor. As tight as he could, he kept a grip on his older sister. The hand sanitizers had sprawled out across the floor, the hands that were holding them now lied lifeless in Roman’s grip.

Roman heard something. More than the music, that stupid fucking music, but he could focus. He wanted to cough until he could breathe again, he wanted to be here, without a single doubt that history can't repeat itself. But trauma doesn’t work that way.

Shooting down on Taft Avenue. Four injured, one dead.

“Roman, hey, it’s just me, it’s just Virgil—shit, hey, it’s alright, focus on me. Let me get you out of here, okay? God you’re heavy, okay-”

It’s Virgil. It’s just Virgil. No Ellie, Ellie’s dead, Ellie’s been dead, it’s just Virgil, he’s here.

Thank God.

“Here, just listen to this for a bit. You’re the reason I have a Disney playlist, I hope you know that.”

They were in a car now. Roman could feel the pressure of Virgil’s bulky headphones on his ears, as well as the start up to Tiana’s “Almost There”, even if his hands he was staring at still didn’t feel like his own. The explosion in his chest lessened some, even if his breaths were still short and it was a miracle he wasn’t sobbing yet.

Virgil moved one of the ends of the headphones to the side. “Feeling a little better?”

Talking took so much energy, way too much energy, but he’d worried Virgil enough for one day. “...Yeah…”

“Do you need the volume turned down?”

“...Maybe.”

The music got a little quieter, and Roman felt his body relax a little more. He didn’t even realize it was overwhelming him.

“Alright...now, five things you can see?”

“Virge-“

“Five things you can see, fucker, let me help you.”

Roman let out a huff of a laugh, but looked around anyway. “Uh...you, carseat, wheel...um...the thing…”

“Thing?” Virgil looked around. “...You mean glove compartment?”

“...Yeah, that.”

“Okay, one more.”

“...Coat?”

“Alright, four things you can hear?”

“Music, heater, uh...I don’t know…”

“Can you hear me?”

“...Now I can.”

Virgil laughed. “That’s good enough, I’ll take three. Three things you can touch?”

“...Headphones, coat, seat.”

“Alright, good...two things to smell?”

Blood. “Pat’s air freshener, and the fact that you haven’t showered.”

Virgil lightly punched him in the arm, Roman letting out a small laugh through a shaky smile. “And I bet what you’re tasting is the fact that you haven’t brushed your teeth.”

“...I did not come here to get roasted.”

Virgil shook his head in amused disappointment at him, but started the car and put it in reverse. Roman sighed, looking out the window at the soft snowflakes and lights on houses that made his stomach curl. He hated this holiday. All it did was bring back bad memories, every corner surrounded in his triggers and nightmares increasing tenfold with the stress. He wanted to go home. He didn’t know where home was.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Roman looked over at Virgil, with his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel as he tapped nervously. Roman rubbed at his eyes. “Do you want to? I heard you and Remus.”

“This isn’t about me, it’s fine.”

“You’re my best friend and he’s my brother. It involves me too.”

Virgil didn’t answer. He kept his eyes on the road intently, and Roman wondered if he should just put the headphones back on his ear and let that be that. But he really didn’t want them to keep fighting, so it’s better to at least make an attempt, right?

Roman put the headphones around his neck. “We were buying his gift.”

“What?”

“The night Ellie died. Her and Remus had a little tradition of getting each other a gift and a gag gift. The older we got, the more inappropriate they became, which was very ‘them’, in all honesty. She had forgotten to get it earlier though, so she took me to the store at midnight on Christmas Eve so we could pick something out. And that’s when the shooting happened.

Virgil didn’t react, but Roman gave him a tired smile. “I’m fairly certain that’s why he gets so protective. He feels like he caused it somehow, so he tries to solve all my problems on his own. It’s sweet in its own way.”

Virgil hit the break roughly at a stop sign. “Well now I feel like an asshole.”

“...You were a little bit of a bitch. But I don’t blame you, since so was he.”

“I just wanna help you too, you know? I get it, he’s your brother and all that shit, but he’s not the only person who cares about you, so he can back the fuck off. Especially when he’s spending time in my fucking house.”

“You say that like three other people don’t pay rent.”

“It’s my house when it’s convienent to my argument, fuck off.”

Roman laughed, Virgil taking a turn to a stoplight and waiting. “I just want you two to work things out. We can talk once I go home, take my meds, and at least sleep for two hours.”

“Only two hours? You’re starting to become me, Princey.”

“It’s an anxiety disorder buddies thing.”

“Fuck yeah, anxiety disorder buddies. Who can’t wait for therapy to start up again.”

Roman pumped a fist up lazily. “Next thursday!”

“Next thursday mother fucker!”

They both started to laugh, the soft glow of the read light and the headlights of passing cars being strangely calming. Roman’s eyes felt so heavy, the glassy tears he still had sealing his eyelids together like glue. “Wake me up when we get there.” He mumbled.

“And if you have another nightmare?”

“We get there when we get there.”

Roman heard one last soft laugh before his body went still. He wasn’t completely peaceful, but at least he was sleeping. It would be enough for now.

Virgil didn’t wake him up when they got home. It took both him and Remus to be able to carry him inside, but they managed to do it without waking him up permanently. He moved, but at least he managed to sleep some.

When he wakes up, they’ll fuss at him for running away and Patton will hug him close for Roman’s comfort and his own. He’ll make Remus and Virgil talk peacefully about each other without too much complaining until they can at least stand to be in the same room as each other. Then when things are calm, the brothers will cry when they remember the date, and Patton will give them blankets and hugs while the other two stand around a little awkwardly until it’s lunch time. Neither of them will eat much, but leftovers exist for a reason. They’ll be taken care of.

But for now, Roman will sleep.

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tsarisfanfiction · 4 years ago

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Silent VII

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Angst Characters: Jeff Tracy, Scott Tracy, Grandma Tracy, Alan Tracy

This fic’s been a bit of an experiment, perhaps more so than the others, but I’ve still greatly enjoyed writing it and I hope you’re enjoyed reading it, too. I’ll be back with the fifth and final sense tomorrow, so see you then!

His return to Earth was nothing like the previous times. Triumph, shared laughter and in jokes with his best friend in the universe (barring the one he had married, of course) were barely a distant memory as the space shuttle docked and Jeff stumbled out of it with all the grace of a fawn on ice.

There was no-one to greet him. Another first, and for his final return from space, it was by far his worst. Lucille always knew when he was going to be home, and always made sure to be there – with their sons in tow if she could wrangle it. She wasn’t here this time, but he already knew that. His time on Alfie had been slashed short by a message trickled through the cosmos until it reached him.

Your wife’s dead.

Three words. Three horrible, horrible words. It was lucky that Lee had been there with him, for once the voice of reason that held him back from trying to space walk the whole way back to Earth himself. Most likely without his helmet, a forgotten piece of necessary equipment in the shock. Jeff had ended up sobbing in his friend’s arms for hours when it had properly sunk in.

Lucille was dead. His beautiful wife, the mother of his five precious sons, the most brilliant star he’d ever seen. Avalanche. Messages from Earth to the Moon tended to be direct and to the point. Less to get lost in translation that way, although Jeff wished it was just a mistranslation.

Your wife’s dead. Avalanche. Sons alive.

It was the last two words that had stopped him from walking outside without his helmet, regardless of Lee’s attempts to stop him. His boys, his five wonderful boys, had had their mother torn from them. Who was with them? Who was stopping Scott from playing parent more than he already did while their father was off gallivanting around in space? He’d promised Lucille this was the last time, that he was ready to settle down on Earth so that Alan, at least, could grow up with both his parents always around. She’d never begrudged him his adventures, but one son, she’d demanded. One son, he would watch grow up day by day, and not a couple of months a year.

So much for any of their sons growing up with both parents. At the sign that he’d be home indefinitely, the world had decided to strip their mother from them, instead. His poor, poor boys.

Were they injured? Alive left so much potential. Had they been caught in the avalanche as well? Swept down the mountainside and jumbled all the way into a hospital?

When had it happened? There was no date, no way of knowing how quickly he’d been informed – and it had been three weeks since the message got through before they could launch a shuttle to bring him home.

Thankfully, his superiors didn’t bother with the usual tedium of a debrief when he staggered into Earth and one G gravity again. They held him back only long enough for the mandatory physical assessment – “don’t terrify your kids by collapsing on them, Tracy,” – and hacked through all of the red tape until he was free to go, and then personally ensured he made it to his front door.

His mother’s car was on the drive. An old thing he was sure had been ancient when she’d first acquired it, long before Jeff had ever met Lucille, it gave him the breath of air he needed. Mom was here. His boys were alright. They had to be – she’d never leave any of them alone in a hospital. Whatever had happened, his sons hadn’t been abandoned.

What was the etiquette for arriving home after months away? Did he open the door and stroll straight in, or should he knock and announce his presence? It had never been a concern for him before, with Lucille always by his side when he came home, gripping his elbow as though he’d fall over if she didn’t personally hold him up.

Then again, he had, the first time.

He felt like he might again, and it was that thought that had him pushing the door open and stumbling through.

“Mom?” he called. The door was unlocked – she was definitely in. What day was it? It was early afternoon, but were the boys at school or was it a weekend?

“Dad?”

Well, that answered that question. He stumbled into the sitting room to meet startled blue eyes, inherited from the boy’s grandmother. Scott was sat on the couch, somewhat stiffly, with his laptop on his lap and headphones discarded carelessly on the cushions.

“Scott!” Unsteady on his feet, it was more of a controlled collapse than anything else onto the couch beside him, pulling his eldest into his arms. There was no protest, no squawk that he was too old for that – or even that his laptop had been dislodged by the sudden embrace. All the signs of a rebellious teenager starting to find his own place in the world that had been showing just before he’d left were gone, leaving behind a child.

“Dad,” Scott gasped into his crumpled shirt, hands balling into fists against his back as he returned the embrace almost as fiercely. “D-Dad.”

“I’m here,” he mumbled, resting his cheek on top of his son’s head and clutching him tightly, hearing quiet, desperate gasps. “Dad’s home.” There were tears in his eyes, prickling uncomfortably and spilling down his cheeks. He would have been embarrassed, normally, but Scott was sobbing into his chest as well, and they’d both lost someone they loved more than life itself.

He couldn’t help but notice, however, that the commotion they were making failed to draw any more young boys – or their grandmother – to the room. His mother hadn’t responded to his call, either.

“Where are your brothers?” he asked Scott after a moment. “And your grandmother?”

Scott drew back slowly, and Jeff loosened his hold enough that they could face each other properly, but didn’t let go entirely. His eldest didn’t fight for his freedom, and indeed still had his shirt in his fists.

“School,” he said. “It’s Wednesday, Dad. Grandma’s collecting Alan from playgroup.”

“I see,” he sighed, moving to pull him closer again before a thought struck him.

“If it’s a Wednesday, why aren’t you at school?”

Scott promptly buried his head in his shirt again, clinging to him with a fervour that unmistakably said I don’t want to talk about it.

Jeff let him keep his silence, instead shifting around until he had his eldest son firmly situated in his lap. Fourteen or not, he was still his son, and if he was out of school – no doubt his grandmother’s call – then there was something very wrong. Jeff only hoped it was the obvious, and not something else on top of Lucille’s death. For his part, Scott didn’t protest to being treated like a much younger child; if anything he clung even tighter.

The door opened and he turned his head to see his mother walking in, a small blond toddler with blue eyes at her heels. Little Alan had grown up so fast, just like all of his brothers before him.

“Jeff!” Gentle hands cupped his face, before pulling him – and consequently, the son on his lap – into an embrace. “Oh, Jeff.”

“Mom,” he choked out, vaguely noticing Scott wriggling free and slipping away. “Mom, I-”

She hushed him, stroking his hair as he tried and failed to stop more tears. He didn’t want to break down in front of two of his sons, but the dam had been once again breached and much like Scott had been sobbing into his chest minutes earlier, he sobbed into his mother’s shoulder.

There were no platitudes she could offer him, nor did she try. The relief at seeing two of his sons, and the implication that the other three were also unharmed, only went so far in easing the pain at Lucille’s loss.

Knowing that two of his sons were in the room helped him to regain control, if not composure, however. They needed him to be strong for them, so with some effort he pulled away from his mother and turned around to find that Scott had sat down on the floor next to Alan and was distracting him with a toy car.

“Scott didn’t say why he’s not at school,” he commented quietly, watching the pair of them. “Did something happen?”

His mother gave an unhappy sigh that immediately concerned him.

“I pulled him from campus classes for the time being,” she said. “He’s been enrolled in the online classes instead.” Jeff glanced over at the ignored laptop, tilted on its side, and saw something that looked like math.

“Why?”

“It took me five days to get here,” she confessed quietly, and Jeff swallowed. His boys had been alone for five days. He knew them well enough to know that Scott would have stepped up as parent, but he shouldn’t have had to. Not at fourteen. “A severe snow storm had me trapped, and when I finally got here I found out that Scott’s so-called friends-” she all but sneered the word “-had taken offence to him quitting the basketball team and instead of bothering to find out why, decided the mature thing to do was to take the aggressive approach.”

“What?” The word got strangled in his throat and came out as an enraged hoarse whisper rather than the shout it meant to be. It was still enough to catch Scott’s attention, although when the teenager realised they were looking at him he quickly turned his gaze back to Alan, who was making rocket noises to accompany his car. “He was being bullied? Straight after Luci-”

His voice choked up completely.

“I took the matter up with the principle,” she assured him. “All four boys responsible have been suspended and put on community service for a month. Mr Atkins made it clear that he takes bullying very seriously.” She sighed again, but there was an angry glint behind her purple glasses. “Scott is also housebound on doctor’s orders for at least another month.”

Jeff’s eyes widened and he focused on his son again, still distracting Alan even though it was clear he was listening to their conversation. He’d thought his sons had escaped injury, but was that not the case? How about the other three?

He asked as such, and got a sad smile.

“None of them were hurt in the avalanche,” she promised him. “They all walked away from that physically fine, if very shaken. No, it’s the fault of those horrible boys. Most of the bruising has faded, but he still has cracked ribs and mild internal bruising from their attacks.”

Jeff couldn’t listen to anything more, not then. He left his mother on the couch and stumbled down to the floor with his sons. Alan regarded him with wide eyes before scrambling into his lap, rocket-noise car abandoned, in search of a big hug, which Jeff was more than happy to provide.

Next to him, Scott was rigid again, and Jeff remembered enough of his own adventures with broken ribs to recognise the accompanying discomfort. He remembered the crushing hug he’d given the boy when he’d first seen him, and winced. Scott hadn’t made any attempt to stop him – had seemed desperate for the physical contact – but he must have been hurting.

“I’m proud of you,” he said, freeing one arm from Alan to carefully loop it around his eldest’s shoulders. “I’m sure you can call school a wrap for today.” Scott still didn’t meet his eyes, but leaned into his touch again.

“Thanks, Dad,” he mumbled.

“Dad!” Alan echoed, all toothy grin.

“Dad!” was the same call he got two hours later, when his final three boys came home and wasted no time in demanding a group hug, all of them noticeably mindful of Scott.

Dad. He still had that. His wife might be gone from the mortal plane – although he had no doubts that she’d be watching them from the stars – but he still had his sons, and he tightened his hold on all five of them.

As long as he had them, he could keep going.

Fin

#sensorysunday #sensorysunday2020 #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #jeff tracy #scott tracy #grandma tracy #alan tracy #john tracy #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #silent

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hey-hamlet · 5 years ago

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‘BANHA’ Fic

aka, my friend who hasn’t watched bnha got really pissed when I told her about Bakugo and Izuku’s old middle school. So pissed, in fact, that she wrote almost 3000 words of a character created solely for this purpose beating the tar out of Bakugo.

Shes my idol.

(I edited the names for spelling and edited the dialogue for speech patterns in exactly two scenes. See if you can pick all 3 edited lines)

“Happy birthday Arlea!” Arlea Hunter started from where she was sitting and chewing on cereal like it was going out of style. Aunty Chitose placed a small cake on the table by Arlea’s bowl, a single candle on top, she gave her a bright smile.

“Thank you! You didn’t have to get me anything,” Arlea said, looking at the cake, it looked delicious. With white frosting that was layered thickly and the words ‘Happy birthday’ scrawled in purple icing. Arlea blew out the candle. Putting her hands together. Squeezing her eyes shut to make a wish. Her Aunty ruffled her hair.

“What are you saying? Of course I’d get you a cake, although it’s a bit little, you can’t share it with your friends.” She said.

“It’s ok, I wouldn’t want to share it either way.” Arlea pointed out. “Except for you of course,” she added, standing to pick up the knife from the counter. proceeding to cut it into quarters.

“Oh, thank you very much, and I’m going to eat three pieces then?” she asked.

“Alright fine, Uncle Hideki and Hanabi can have some too.”

“You two will have to pack it then, since you’re almost late for school.” My aunt pointed out, moving back to the kitchen. Arlea glanced at the clock and almost swore. Scrambling to pick up her lunchbox and carefully pack the cake.

“Hanabi come on down! There’s cake here for you!” Arlea’s Aunt called. it was accompanied by the sounds of frantic footsteps. Eventually Hanabi made it down the stairs, with school bag in hand and her blonde streaked brown hair bouncing around her heart-shaped face. The little princess of the family, with sharp bright blue eyes and a killer smile. Arlea really took time to reflect how different their families were.

Her cousin was a year younger than her, and had an outgoing happy personality, cute sized, whereas Arlea was willowy, with straight drab hair that looked almost black, black eyes. and while she had a quirk of an infectious smile. Arlea’s dove wings wasn’t exactly as useful. It’s not as if she could use them. she reflected ruefully

“Thanks mum!” Hanabi squealed, sitting at the table. “Not now, pack it or we will be late.” Arlea commented. Hanabi glancing at the clock and jumping up again.

“I can’t be late today! I promised Haru I’d help her paint one of the school festival posters.” Hanabi grabbed her back and bolted for the doorway. Arlea shifted past, letting the girl go past her without knocking both of them over. She turned back and packed the second piece for Hanabi, placing both lunchboxes in her bag. She was used to her airheaded cousin forgetting things, and definitely loved her for it. Hanabi made Arlea feel good and reliable. Isn’t that a sad realisation? She mused. heading out the door at an angle and calling her goodbyes to her aunt.

“Come on! move those wings, if we’re late I’m blaming you!” Hanabi called, she grinned at Arlea without any malice. Setting a brisk pace along the sidewalk. Arlea caught up easily, she was taller than her cousin by a couple centimetres. Arlea wasn’t exactly new to Japan, her mum had been from here, and she’d been born here. but growing up in a different culture entirely, and coming back at the age of 15, 12 years later was an… experience.

Specifically the school life, ending up going to Aldera middle school wasn’t exactly fun. It wasn’t a great school, but her area wasn’t a great area, and it would be expensive to send two near-high schoolers to a private school. Public schools weren’t a problem though, after all, if Arlea could survive a public school in Woodridge Australia, she could survive anything.

The school gates loomed ahead and Hanabi called out to her friend Haru. A small girl with curly dark hair, glasses, and a shy personality. Haru smiled, waving at us both.

“Good morning Hanabi, Senpai!” she greeted. Arlea gave her a smile, Hanabi was already dragging her off however.

“I’ll see you at lunch!” She called back. Arlea gave a little snort, unlikely, until she figured out Arlea had her lunch. She didn’t blame her cousin. They had only gotten closer over the past year Arlea had been here, but that probably wasn’t entirely by choice. It’s been a year since Arlea’s mother died, and she had to move to this second-rate school. At least she could get into a better high school.

She was sitting with her friends when Hanabi came running over. A slightly panicked look on her face. I smiled at her.

“Forget your lunch today?” Arlea asked her as she reached where Arlea and her friends were eating lunch, a small little side-hall that was open enough to have cool air come through and bright enough for a nice atmosphere. But as she drew closer Arlea’s smile fell. She looked absolutely terrified. Pale faced, on the verge of tears.

“The- that kid in your grade! They’re… beating him up.” She said between sobbing breaths. Hanabi reached her too. She was crying.

“That’s Deku, leave him be, it happens.” One of Arlea’s friends commented. Hanabi cousin looked at him, her face starting to get blotchy as the redness of running took over her straight panic.

“They look like they’re beating him to death! They’re not stopping!” Hanabi rushed out. Arlea looked at her, then stood up.

“Where are the teachers?” Arlea’s friends watched her silently, a few of them staring at their lunches, but no longer eating them. There was something wrong about this situation, sure people were bullied in Australia, but it tended to stop once a teacher was in view.

“They’re just watching!” Hanabi half-shouted. Arlea turned an accusing eye on her friends. Seeing no support on the kid’s side. no cry of outrage.

“Where?” She asked seriously, ignoring the slight shake of her friend Satoru’s head. Hanabi took off though, and Arlea went after her. Haru following them from behind. Taking a couple shortcuts through empty classrooms Arlea could see where people were gathered on the second floor above one of the yards, staring down at the commotion. Hanabi was slowing down. Arlea slid to a stop next to the furthest student, hearing someone shouting.

“I’m doing you a favour Deku, you’re better off dead than quirkless!” The voice below called up, loud enough to be heard from here. Arlea felt a cold snap of rage, gripping the windowsill she jumped up, Hanabi turned back, calling her name. Arlea leapt out, aiming for Bakugo. One of the popular kids in her grade. He had a cascade of sparks, ready to use it on the kid that was already bleeding from most of his face. His shoulder looked dislocated too, he looked up at Arlea through one eye, the other puffed shut, his lip was broken and bleeding, and he had a serious burn mark on the right side of his neck.

Arlea heard movement and turned her attention. Bakugo stood up, disorientated, Arlea looked at him, gripping her hands into fists, temper, temper. If she lost it now the teachers might actually do something.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” one of the ones holding the boy asked. she turned on him.

“Let him go, or I’ll cut off your creepy salad fingers.” Arlea said. he let the boy go, he crumpled to the ground.

“Get lost, or I’ll give you the same to you, shithead.” Bakugo replied coldly, walking over threateningly. Arlea looked at his face, altogether much too perfect, maybe a broken tooth might teach him a lesson. She decided. He reached her and she rounded a hit on him before he could see the fist coming. The wet slap of her flesh against his face satisfyingly echoing in the semi-empty yard.

“Bakugo!” Someone called from behind, Arlea turned as one of the less active of the bullies ran at her. She gave a cold laugh, before leaping on him, wings outspread in a terrible arch as she twisted into the air, bringing the entire force of her body and slamming into him.

“That’s enough!” someone shouted, Arlea stood, the bullies standing back as a teacher walked this way.

“Oh, is it? And was it enough when they were beating this kid in front of you? Or are you so piss-poor at your own fucing job you couldn’t be bothered actually interfering?” Arlea shouted at him. She stuttered through the Japanese, not exactly fluent, but good enough that the meaning came across strong. The teacher went red faced, walking this way in angry strides, Arlea looked at him, temper ticking so close to being officially lost.

“You’re lucky I’m letting you off for this one, but you’re going to detention for this-“ The teacher stated. He grabbed Arlea’s wrist.

“For what? doing your job for you?” she asked. The teacher turned to look at her.

“How dare you.” the teacher hissed.

“The fuck is wrong with you, why would you waste all your breath on a quirkless bastard?” it was Bakugo again. Temper officially lost. With a swipe, she took the teacher’s legs out from under him, before turning on Bakugo, he put his arms up in defence, seeing the attack this time but not counting on the amount of force behind it, people never did. But wings were extra body mass, no matter how hollow the bones. The two of them fell.

There was only a short scramble, before Arlea was sitting on his chest, hands wrapped tightly around his throat. His eyes bulged. Gripping her wrists, trying to ease the pressure.

“Unfortunately for you, my mother happened to be quirkless. She’s gone; because of scum like you.” Arlea said, a smile on her face as she strangled the boy. “Call this your official warning, if you ever mention that little quirkless thing again, you or any of your little boys. I’m going to hunt you down, slit your throat from ear to ear, and watch you bleed out with a smile on my face.” Arlea wasn’t joking either. She’d almost killed people for less. Bakugo’s struggled became desperate, tears and spit rolling down his face.

“Stop it,” A hoarse voice croaked. Arlea glanced back. the kid was sitting up, looking this way, barely conscious. Arlea turned back. She let go of Bakugo’s throat, not before giving him two more solid hits to the face, one of them crunching at his nose. She stood up, turning back. The teacher must have hit his head, because he was sitting up with a dazed look in his eyes. Arlea turned to look at the kid who was staring back at her with fear. “Don’t - Kacchan’s going to be a hero, it’s only because I’m-” the boy stuttered.

Arlea turned to look at the people on the floor, the two still standing watched her with fear. She turned back to look at Bakugo, who was coughing and staring up at her.

“Quirkless?” She ground out, teeth audibly grinding against each other in her rage. “It’s ok because you’re weaker than him?” She turned back to Bakugo, snarling. “Newsflash asshole, heroes help people weaker than them. You’re no hero, just a twobit jackass with too many people fawning over your flashy quirk.” Arlea turned back, grabbing the boy by his good arm and wrenching him up. Taking him towards the infirmary, the kids gathered gave her a wide berth, except for Hanabi, who walked forward, and helped support him on the other side, being careful of his arm.

“Are you ok?” she asked softly. the boy looked at her. but she was looking at Arlea. Who’s jaw was ticked tight, fury in her eyes.

“I’m going to burn down this fucking school.” She replied coldly in English. Hanabi winced,

“I’m sure… that if he knew, he’d not have talked that way.” Hanabi responded softly, Arlea felt her anger cooling. Her cousin trying hard to calm her down and making an effort to speak in English made her feel better.

“If he knew and actually had the audacity to say that, I’d have already killed him.” Alrea pointed out. reverting back to Japanese.

Hanabi gave a shaky sigh, “Mum is going to be furious…”

Well, that she already knew.

Surprise, surprise, Arlea was called to the office. She walked there, blood still on her uniform, sitting down politely on the waiting room chairs. The woman there was tense, not looking at her. After a while, the phone rang, and the woman picked it up, putting it back down.

“Please make your way through.” she said, giving Arlea a tense smile.

Arlea stood up, taking a breath. Inside was a furious principal, the concussed teacher, two police officers, and someone who looked like he was a hero. She stopped at the door, looking at the hero and freezing. Well, that didn’t bode well.

“Arlea Hunter, I am appalled by what I’ve heard this afternoon. You were a good student, top of your class, an outstanding reputation. But today you not only attacked 3 of your peers, but a teacher as well. These men are here to escort you off my campus, you’re hereby expelled. I’ve called your aunt to tell her that you’re being escorted to the station. Honours exchange student or not, I will not tolerate that kind of violence on my campus.” The principal, who Arlea was shocked didn’t run out of breath halfway through, was red-faced. Furious, the teacher was watching her with a smile.

Arlea turned to him. “Really? Not only will you let another student burn Deku’s face off, but you’ll stand there and smile when the only person willing to stand up for him is being sent off?” She asked. The teacher paled.

“She’s lying!” he immediately cried. Arlea crossed her arms.

“Bakugo told Deku to kill himself because he was quirkless, then went ahead to hit him again, and everyone stood around and did nothing. This student who had the audacity to think he was going to become a hero.” Arlea was enraged now, walking to the desk and slamming her hands down.

“What the hell is wrong with your teaching staff? A single boy was being beaten to death on your school grounds by four people and your staff did nothing! What kind of sicko school do you run?” She was screaming now. then turned to the police.

“You want to take me to the station? Good! I’ll be a valuable witness, and I’ll proudly stand against Bakugo, what kind of sick psychopath burns the face off one of his peers?” She rounded on the principal again. “I’m also surprised that you called my aunt, you should have kept quiet, because you know she’s just going to come here and take my side. And when there’s an internal investigation? You’ll find me watching you burn to the ground with all the rest of your staff. You run an institute that’s supposed to support your student base, and watch them grow. Their parents are relying on you to keep their children safe, and you’re sending one of them home with injuries nearly every day!” Arlea pulled herself to full height, looking down at the man sitting there, getting paler and paler at her accusations. “You should all be ashamed of yourselves.” she hissed out finally.

There was a tense silence, neither the teacher nor principal would break it. Arlae had just gone and blurted out their failures in front of two cops and a hero. If that didn’t scream ‘doomed’ she didn’t know what did. The hero spoke up first.

“Today has been quite the eventful day for everyone involved. What I suggest happens is that Principal Satoru runs an internal investigation into this matter. Bakugo will be flagged to watch for quirk abuse on U.A records. I also suggest you discuss a solution with Arlea Hunter’s aunt when she arrives, so that expulsion can be avoided.” The hero said calmly. Arlea blinked at him.

“How can you speak reasonably in this situation?” She asked, outraged. The hero pinned her with a steady gaze.

“You were also using your quirk maliciously in body slamming a student. If this Bakugo is punished. You will be also, if the student who was injured decides to go ahead and press charges, then we will do something about it and bar him from entering our academy, if what you say about him wanting to become a hero is true. You may find yourself with the brunt of the punishment however, the student you attacked was not Bakugo by the sounds of it, which means you didn’t use your quirk for self defence either.” The hero turned and walked to Arlea, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“In this instance, it would be logical to just let it go. It would be a shame to lose a potential student with such a strong motivation for justice.” The hero nodded his goodbye to the principal and left. giving Arlea an encouraging smile. She didn’t feel it, wanting instead to throw her fists around and continue her angry outburst. Trying to attack a hero would be a tad ambitious. It also made her feel worse that he thought he saw justice. But it was just selfish, bitter anger. Just piss-poor timing for Bakugo to be an asshole. A year ago today her own mother killed herself over the same words. You’d be better off dead than quirkless. Arlea glared at the two people left in the room. before turning and walking out again. she needed a good cry behind the furthest building, at least before her aunty arrived.

#not my fic exactly but it sure is fic

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spnfanficpond · 6 years ago

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January Angel Fish Awards

Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words.

The monthly Angel Fish Awards are peer-nominated, meaning ANYONE IN THE POND CAN NOMINATE ANY POND MEMBER’S FIC. While the Pond was founded to support the Guppies, everyone in this community deserves to be showered with love and feedback, and we hope that by opening this up as a Pond wide system, we’ll be able to share the love as far as it can go.

NOTE: WE’VE BEEN HAVING OCCASIONAL PROBLEMS WITH ASKS GOING MISSING. Please use the Submit button when submitting your nominations. If you like, you can also send a message to Michelle or Mana to check and make sure we got your submission.

And we’d like to make a special shout out and say thank you to Ana and Kenzi for your total of 15 Angel Fish Nominations this month! The two of you together nominated 14 authors and the kind of passion for reading and reciprocating your feedback is exactly what we love to see. Thank you both for sharing so much love this month!

WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, HERE ARE JANUARY’S ANGEL FISH AWARDS!

Nominated by @sorenmarie87

The Pact (series) by @coffee-obsessed-writer

Jen’s fics are always so well written and detailed to a point where it feels like it could actually happen. Not to mention her characterization is on point. This fic in particular is different from what I’ve read before and everyone should give it a chance.

Nominated by @littlegreenplasticsoldier

How You & I Will Be (series) by @katehuntington

I’m nominating this fic, which (fair disclosure) I beta’d becuase it does a really really really really great job of fulfilling the brief it set out to achieve: making you cry.

It’s a story of unrequited love between Dean and the reader and it’s doomed, from the outset. Kate unpacks nearly every angle and moment and hold them up for you as they burn away, right in from of your eyes. Ruby-level patience. Nice at brutal.

So if you like your angst and tears, have at it friends. Cheers, Ali.

(TW for major character death.)

Nominated by @rosieakacanadianspnhunter

Thunder Rolls by @amanda-teaches

I'm not afraid of thunder, but I definitely felt the fear. I'd totally pretend to be if it meant Dean would distract me this way! I loved the addition of Dean telling the reader what his own biggest fear is! Hot!

Nominated by @percywinchester27

The First Bite (oneshot) by @shy-violet-soul

Firstly, can I just say that I am absolutely in love with their work? The writer is so sure of what they want to say and know exactly how to say it. And that is a rare thing, when no word is unnecessary. I absolutely fell in love with the characterization of young Dean and Sam. And the OCs are enchanting. Don’t remember the last time I fell in love with an OC so quickly! And the husband-wife duo in the fic are simply adorable. The context and background of the story paint a lovely picture. And Dean… damn that boy breaks your heart. All in all would recommend it 100% Go check the author out!

The Babysitter (series) @mrswhozeewhatsis

I never thought I would ever commit to a 65 chapter series, but damn! this one felt like a couple of pages, and even after it ended, I was running around my room, screaming like a zombie with “MOREEEEEEEEEEEE.” This could have very well been a parallel world in itself. Like another reality that Jack could create a rift to, where the Winchesters are happy. They have this sister/mother/friend figure in their lives who is absolutely awe-inspiring. She is tender, good and badass but oh so realistic with her feelings. I go back and read the timestamps a lot and my fav chapter where they are in the hotel room at the very end and prank the hell out of everyone else. I was in splits the first time and still am. This doesn’t white wash John, but brings out the best in him. JUST. GO. READ IT. You are fucking welcome!

Living With Regrets (series) by @thing-you-do-with-that-thing

The pain!! OH GOD THE PAIN!! The author can personally attest to how I hounded her over this series in her IMs. The timing of each chapter is so perfect that it just leave you with the right amount of angst and desperation for the next chapter. I wanted to push both the characters together and close the door behind them so they could just fucking TALK!! I am emotional about this okay? Also while I wanted to hug and cuddle the little OC, I wanted to strangle and murder the other one!! This series brought out quite a lot of passion in me, one that I didn’t know I had the capacity of feeling over a fictional work, still does. It is an adorable little world that you all should definitely be a part of! Go…go….go!!

Silk and Rough Velvet (series) by @blacktithe7

SARV was the first long series I attempted to read. Also the first AU. It altered my life. Rockstar!Jensen suddenly became a real thing. Y'all have no clue how much this series had awed me. Even now when I mention the series to a third party, my first reaction is - “You haven’t read it? What are you doing with your life?” It has the perfect amount of love, angst and fluff. Gosh! It is the freaking best! Most days there are no words. Today is one of them!

Series Rewrite (series) @torn-and-frayed

A true masterpiece! I don’t know how do you even begin to attempt something like this. The reader is inserted in the rewrite SO FLAWLESSLY!!! SO EFFORTLESSLY that it is crazy! Like what even??? I mean she has a personality of her own. And as strong a presence as Sam or Dean. More importantly, she does not undermine the relationship of the brothers. Does not take away from their moments, all the while creating her own bonds. I love that she is in love with Dean. But damn, I love what she has with Sam, too. The author manages to perfectly capture the essence of the rewrite in the best way possible. Excellent job!

Fresh Start (series) by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes

This one is unique in it’s uncomplicatedness (that isn’t a word, but deal with it) Like whoa, the reader is so fucking relatable! I am sure all authors can relate when they make a reader super-strong, super-understanding, super-witty. This one is just super-relatable. And that is the hardest fucking thing to do! The OC is charming AF, and the underlying pain of a dead lover is significant. It is not in your face, it is not too underplayed, but it’s subtle and THERE. Kudos at having achieved the perfect balance of everything. It is rare and awesome! Read this ONE!

Close Every Door (series) by @jotink78

I have never known the sort of pain and angst that this series inflicted on me, I kid you not. I wanted to steamroll everyone,and everybody. If you caught me reading a chapter, there was a good chance that I was either feeling extremely murderous and was sobbing incessantly in the corner. I’ve said it before, despite being one of the kindest people, the author sure knows how to be cruel when it comes to writing. This series is sure to rip your freaking heart part, stomp all over it and out it back. BUT SO WORTH IT!!

More Than You Bargained For (series) by @luci-in-trenchcoats

Best bodyguard!AU I have ever read. It was fun and exciting without getting too palpitating, which is good because the chase and suspense were fantastically written. And the twist at the end, you’d never fucking see that coming. I bet!! I love how they slowly fall for each other even through all their differences. This one I couldn’t put down, it was so good. If you are looking for something to curl up with on a cozy and comfortable Saturday, this is your THING!! Don’t forget to curl in with a blanket and hot mug of coffee before you get started!

Five years of Christmas (oneshot) by @deanssweetheart23

This is a life worth’s contentment packed in a single fic, neatly wrapped and gifted to you. The words have the softness of petals and the harshness of shards of ice that pierce you and then you die! But then come back later. The author doesn’t only make fiction out the words…. she makes poetry. It flows, straight into your heart. Now, you might think I am being cheesy, but read the fic and then come back. We’ll see who is cheesy then! But seriously, y'all need to get behind this. It is the freaking best. I am in love <3

Nominated by @ellen-reincarnated1967

Red String of Fate (oneshot) by @evansrogerskitten

Sweet, serendipitous, a bit heartbreaking, and an 'Ah ha! Yes!!!' ending!!! Honestly, I'd recommend everything on her masterlist, but I've been saving this one for a rainy day read and was not disappointed!

Nominated by @mrswhozeewhatsis

What Could Have Been (series) by @flamencodiva

Holy moly, this series is killing me. SO MUCH ANGST, yet there’s sweet stuff mixed in there, too. Every day, I look forward to seeing if there’s a new chapter posted!

The Cursed (series) by @saxxxology

This series was posted before, and Saxxxy edited it and reposted it, and it’s fabulous, now! It’s got an intriguing premise, Sweet and protective Sammy, and super hot Alpha!Sam smut! *shiver* It’s awesome!

Her Saviours (series) by @bamby0304

This series is giving me a heart attack. There’s John, there’s Sam, there’s Dean, but John’s gone, and Sam’s recovering from Jess’s death, and Dean is sweet but has his wandering eye. It’s ABO, and there’s so much love and heartbreak and hormones that I honestly can’t wait for the next chapter to post!

Wishverse (series) by @crashdevlin

This series is a sequel to another series, A Hard Ten. After what happens in Hard Ten, the reader gets her wish and goes back in time, getting the chance to metaphorically turn left instead of right. It’s got sweetness and smutty smut and angst and everything you could ever want! Seeing how everything plays out is fascinating as hell, and I can’t wait to see where this ends up!

Nominated by @samsexualdeancurious

The Cursed (series) by @saxxxology

This is a repost of one of the many fabulous fics that were lost when Saxxy’s blog got deleted, so a lot of people have already read it at least once. It hasn’t gotten many notes this time around, though, which is an absolute crime because this fic is just as amazing the second time around as it was the first.

Bitten (series) by @saxxxology

I am head over heels in love with this fic. It has a perfect blend of angst, fluff, and smut, and I’ve been enjoying every word of it.

Tomorrow (oneshot) by @kittenofdoomage

This fic is so cute! I love Dean so much, especially in this fic. Rhi writes him so well and every word out of his mouth is just so Dean is hurts. Also, I can guarantee most of us have at least felt the way this reader does, which makes this fic even more perfect.

Forbidden (oneshot) by @becs-bunker

This fic murdered me. I am dead and writing this from my suite in Hell. Crowley says “hi” and that he agrees this fic is perfectly sinful. It’s not a fic for anyone who doesn’t like Wincest or Full House of Wincest, but it’s definitely a fic for me.

Playing Victim (oneshot) by @crispychrissy

Ugh, yes. Gimme all the Sub!Dean/Dom!Reader. There’s simply not enough of that in this fandom and Chrissy nails it so well. Also, the gif she used? Should be illegal.

Three Kisses (oneshot by) @impala-dreamer

I was dying by the end of this fic. A little angsty, a lot sexy, and then fucking hilarious. Rebekah writes Sam and Dean so well, especially Dean’s snarky big brother side, and I love it.

Nominated by @manawhaat

Let Me Carry You (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer

Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, OW!!! Ugh, this fic hurts so fucking good. It’s soft, it’s brutal, it’s so sad it splits you at the seams and makes a home in the hole it punched in your chest. But most importantly, it gives you hope. There’s an honesty that’s written into this story, into Dean and into the reader, and that kind of love and care in crafting this short fic is all anyone could ask for <3

The Truth about Lust (series?) by @scorpiongirl1

Ho, ho, HOLY SHITBALLS! THE DUB CON! This entire thing rides my borderline of fuck no and fuck yes EXCEPTIONALLY WELL! Unf! The story is believable and the way Sam reacts to what’s happening to him is so on point. The remorse and apologies, the snarly growly creature of sex, the restraint and the care he takes for the reader when he literally is dying of lust...jesus fuck. It’s all so Sam. Read it and then go masturbate because, yeah. I did.

Headlights Off (drabble) by @samsexualdeancurious

Yowza, does this girl know how to write that Wincest! Fun, sexy, adventurous, funny. What can I say? It’s everything you want from a wincest fic.

Free and Easy Down The Road I Go (oneshot) by @samsexualdeancurious

Wincest? Yes. Impala? Yes. Nipple clamps on a slightly subby Sammy? Fuck yes. Snarky, smug Dean giving a world class hand job? Oh yeah, you betcha.

THANK YOU ALL FOR THE AWESOME WORK AND GREAT FEEDBACK!

As with the BFAs, these are not actual awards! This system is set up so everyone in the pond has a chance to share the love and promote a fic/author that has grabbed your attention. The more people that participate, and the more everyone remembers to submit their own fics after posting, the better this will be! :D

THANK YOU ALL AGAIN, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!

#afa masterlist #afas #angel fish awards #spn fanfic #supernatural fic rec #fan fiction #spn fan fiction #supernatural fan fiction

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sabinasanfanfic · 7 years ago

Note

BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD ♡✧( ु•⌄• ) once you get this award, you’re supposed to paste it in the ask box of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing will happen, but it’s nice to know that someone thinks you’re beautiful inside and out ( ◜◒◝ )♡♥

I’m borrowing a page from @hidetheremote‘s book and writing you a little drabble/fic/thing (because I know it’s going to be longer than a true drabble) for sending me this lovely chain message! I hope you enjoy your OkiSai! 😘

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’ll tell you more once I’ve rested. I’m tired after having killed a man,” Souji’s tone was dismissive as he waved at Hijikata while walking away.

Saitō was shocked. Souji’s reaction to having just killed a man wasn’t what he had been expecting. Where Saitō had felt a little remorse along with justification after his first kill, he saw none of that in Souji’s eyes. All he had seen was the satisfaction of someone having slaked their lust. A chill went down his spine as Hijikata stormed past him with Kondō following not far behind.

“Souji wouldn’t…would he?” Heisuke asked quietly.

“You saw how fired up he was the other night when Hijikata-san told him to return to Edo,” Harada ventured with his eyes downcast.

“Will he…?” Heisuke couldn’t bring himself to finish the question.

Sannan hummed. “It’ll depend on what Hijikata-kun finds out from Serizawa-san. Right now, I think we should all go about our business.”

With that, Sannan took his leave of the group. Saitō could feel the tension in the air, and he knew that despite Sannan’s suggestion to continue on as nothing happened, no one would actually do so.

“Serizawa…he forced Hijikata-san’s hand. This is a test,” Shinpachi spat.

Heisuke let out a cry. “He wouldn’t! Hijikata-san wouldn’t-”

“No one is exempt from the rules, Heisuke,” Harada argued, his tone harsh. “Not even commanders…and especially not Souji.”

The thought made Saitō’s stomach drop unpleasantly. He had a hard time believing that Souji would be willing to throw his life away on an impulse. He needed to know why.

“Ma, Saitō…wanna join Heisuke and I for a drink?” Shinpachi offered.

Saitō peered over at Shinpachi briefly. He knew the three of them were going to drink to ease their discomfort and to whittle away the time until they would know Souji’s fate. He knew he couldn’t sit without knowing for so long, and he meant to find out more. Saitō shook his head.

“Thank you, but no. I have something I must take care of.”

“Well…okay. You’re welcome if you change your mind.”

“Thank you,” Saitō responded before taking his leave.

He immediately traveled across the courtyard and took the same path Souji had just moments before. He came to Souji’s room and took a deep breath before announcing himself.

“Hajime-kun?”

“Aa.”

“Come in.”

Saitō slid the shoji open, and was greeted by darkness. He wasn’t surprised that Souji was wishing to sit in the darkness. It seemed fitting for what had transpired not long ago. As Saitō’s eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, he became aware of Souji’s form sprawled on the hard wooden floor. The young man was lying on his back with one leg bent and one arm resting under his head. He swore he could see the glitter of Souji’s green eyes from across the room.

“Souji,” Saitō’s voice was calm and business like as usual, but his fist grasped tightly to the fabric of his kimono - the only indication of the disquiet within.

“Come to scold me?” Souji accused. “You’re too much like Hijikata-san.”

“Why did you do it?”

Souji sat up. “Did Hijikata-san send you here?”

A beat of silence. “No. I came on my own. I merely wish to understand.”

Souji turned his head to stare out into the empty room. “Serizawa-san informed me that Tonouchi…” Souji paused, and Saitō saw his fist clench at the name. “Tonouchi was planning to betray Kondō-san. He even spoke of Kondō’s death.”

Saitō remained silent. So, there had been talk of an insurrection of sorts. Still, Saitō was suspicious of Serizawa’s motives, especially with the goading that had occurred only a week or so ago. Saitō found that he agreed with Shinpachi’s assessment that the whole situation was a test that Serizawa had concocted. He was testing Hijikata’s resolve…and Souji’s as well.

“You acted to safeguard Kondō-san’s honor.”

“Of course!” Souji’s response was explosive as he punched the floor. “I would die for Kondō-san.”

“And in doing so, have placed them both in a difficult position.” Saitō glared at Souji. “Did you not think of all the consequences?”

“I don’t care,” Souji snapped. “All I care about is serving Kondō-san, no matter the cost.”

Saitō inhaled deeply. He knew he was upsetting Souji, and this had not been his intention. Saitō realized that he was allowing his own consternation regarding the situation come through his speech. He needed to regain mastery of his emotions before he lost complete control.

“I know…they care,” Saitō murmured.

This was the last thing Souji wanted to hear. He snarled and stood so quickly that Saitō barely had time to defend himself before Souji grasped the kimono, bunching it in his fist. He dragged Satiō close to him. Saitō could feel Souji’s hot breath wash over his face. His eyes widened, and he felt his heart racing. Souji was so close.

“You did come here to scold me…to treat me like a child just like Hijikata-san. If they truly believed in me, they would let me die with honor!”

Saitō realized then that he had imagined Souji doing so much more for Kondō. That having him die now would be such a waste of potential. And, his heart ached at the thought of losing the one person that always challenged him to be a better swordsman and person.

Without a second thought, Saitō’s left hand rested on top of Souji’s fist. His eyes closed briefly, and he felt a little jolt of electricity from the contact. He noticed Souji stiffen with surprise, and his eyes opened once more to regard the young man crouched before him. He could see a vein of uncertainty through the fire in Souji’s eyes.

“I apologize if that is what I have led you to believe. I assure you my intention was to hear your side.”

“Yeah?” Souji asked incredulously.

Saitō gave a sharp nod, steeling his resolve for his next statement. “And if you are to die, to offer myself as your second.”

The room became completely still. It was as if Saitō’s words had knocked the breath out of Souji. His grip slackened slightly on Saitō’s kimono as he processed what Saitō had said. Saitō forced himself to breathe deeply to calm himself while he waited for Souji to respond.

“You…you would be my second?” Souji’s question was soft and brimming with disbelief.

“Aa.”

Souji’s grip tightened on the kimono once more as he dragged Saitō forward. Souji’s lips crashed onto Saitō’s, eliciting a strangled gasp of astonishment from him. The initial contact was jarring, and it took a moment before Saitō realized that Souji was kissing him, his lips hot and incessant. It sent a jolt of yearning straight down to his groin, and he keened deep in his throat. He tried desperately to match Souji’s fervor, but he was inexperienced and couldn’t match his rhythm.

Souji drew away briefly to catch his breath. Saitō could see a blush high on Souji’s cheeks, his chest heaving with the exertion of passion. His hand had loosened on his kimono once more, and his eyes searched Saitō’s in impatience. Saitō took a deep breath and leaned forward. His next kiss was tentative; slow, and this time, Souji allowed him to savor the feel of their lips melding together. It filled Saitō’s mind and body with sensations he wasn’t familiar with but found overwhelming and pleasing all at once.

He had never expected this display of raw passion, but if this was to be Souji’s last night, Saitō was willing to give him this. He broke the kiss to take a deep breath and to calm his nerves. He could feel the heat radiating from his own cheeks, and he wondered if Souji was aware of the effect he had on him.

Souji smirked, though it didn’t hold the mischievousness it usually did. “I couldn’t ask for a better second.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagging: @hakuyamazakisensei, @eheartangel, @shell-senji, @hakuouki-or-hakuoki, @jellyfish-wish, @enby-peep, @flower-dragon, @lescahiersdesable, @emmalanna. Please let me know if you wish to be added or removed from my tag list when I post stories!

#hakuouki #hakuoki #okisai #saito hajime #okita souji #200 follower prompt

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leio13 · 7 years ago

Text

La Tristesse Sale

A Soukoku Fic

Summary: It had been 3 weeks, 5 hours, 28 minutes, and 32 seconds since Mori requested to see Dazai’s annoying partner, and much to Dazai’s own surprise, he was eager to resume their antagonistic dynamic, but when he returned, Chuuya wasn’t as Dazai remembered. He was cold, without that familiar passion.

For the last 3 weeks, Chuuya had underwent a series of experiments to enhance his ability and create the ultimate killing machine: Corruption.

Relationships: Soukoku (Dazai/Chuuya)

Betaread by the lovely @fraink5! Thanks for continuously supporting me throughout this wild ride!

Chapter 8: Sortir

Sortir- [v.] to go out

Masterpost | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Ao3

“Okay, up and at 'em! Let's go! Time to wake up!" Dazai yanked the sheets off his partner's bed. "Today, we are going to be productive members of society! Now, get up!"

Dazai hopped onto the bed and started jumping, causing it to shake just like he intended. Hopefully, it wouldn't break, but until it did, he'd continue to bounce, waiting for a familiar groan. He looked down. Two blue eyes stared at him with what he thought might have been a bit of malice, or it could just have been a hopeful hallucination.

As Chuuya groggily sat up, Dazai skipped out of the room, singing, before popping his head back in through the doorway. "I hope you haven't forgotten personal hygiene! The bath is yours for the taking!"

Really, if he thinks I'm taking him out when he stinks, he's wrong. And I really need to get him outside, so he'd better take a bath! Dazai monologued to himself about how incompetent and stressful the new Chuuya could be while the redhead prepared himself for whatever strange outing Dazai had planned.

Chuuya followed Dazai around like an obedient dog, never questioning anything until they were standing in the front of the aquarium. “I thought we were going to lunch.”

“Not this early. Besides, you need to go outside more.”

Chuuya stared at Dazai with empty eyes, the hollow blue sea slowly drowning Dazai. Of course, Dazai's smile remained afloat.

Dazai strolled inside, bought two one-day passes, and handed Chuuya a brochure. “Where do you wanna go?”

Chuuya was filled to the brim with ideas, the main idea being silence and the other idea being "this isn’t lunch."

Dazai peered over Chuuya’s shoulder, "How about Fureai Lagoon?"

"Have you ever petted a shark before? I personally haven't and can't wait!" Dazai tapped his foot as Chuuya slowly caught up to him. Observing the lagoon, he noticed something of interest; there were people swimming in it. They were all wearing wet suits and wading about, and splashing with them were slippery white creatures. "Ah, Chuuya! Look! Look! They're swimming with dolphins! I want to do that too!"

"Sharks first." Chuuya eyed Dazai jumping up and down pointing like a child. He sighed.

Dazai ignored the sigh and its implications. Chuuya spoke! That by itself was so amazing that the tone didn't matter at all. Chuuya could have been sad, happy, angry, exhausted, perky, or anything, and Dazai wouldn't have cared so long as his partner spoke voluntarily. Perhaps he should have cared more about its connotations, but he didn't. A huge grin covered his face, “okay!"

Slowly, Dazai reached his hand into the shallow tank. Dark sharks swam in curvy patterns just below his fingertips. If he reached in any further, they would brush against him. Of course, that was the whole point, so Dazai moved his fingers to touch the back of a small shark. The baby shark continued on as if Dazai wasn't there, but, as it swam, Dazai could feel its coarse skin slip through his touch. It was a strange feeling and, sadly, ephemeral. In seconds, the fish was gone, and his hands were empty.

"Chuuya! You try too!" Dazai noticed his partner was fiddling with his glove and did him the favor of yanking it off. Then, he grabbed Chuuya's hand and submerged it into the lukewarm water. Chuuya stared at him, his eyes wide.

"You can't feel them outside the tank." Dazai shrugged and guided Chuuya's hand to the nearest little shark. He stopped applying pressure, allowing for Chuuya's hand to move on its own and make the connection. But Chuuya's hand didn't move. In fact, Chuuya stood still, his eyes looking back and forth between his hand and the fish. Was he afraid of such a small creature?

Impatiently, Dazai pressed Chuuya's hand against the shark. He smirked as the redhead's eyes doubled in size with surprise. Then, they returned to normal, and a strange tranquility drifted through the air. Dazai wished time would freeze, so he could embrace the rare moment of calm, but time continued, uncaring. In an instance, the fish had swam away. Dazai released Chuuya's hand and started using his now-free hand to chase sharks around the tank. "Fun, right?"

Chuuya nodded lethargically. He hadn't moved his hand but instead left it to hang there for the occasional fish to brush against it.

“Chuuya! We’re doing it! We’re going to dive into the pool and vanish! Poof!” Dazai bounced in his seat as much as the large, black seatbelt would allow. His hands strangled the bars in front of his shoulders. His eyes ran up and down the track of Yokohama’s famous vanishing coaster. Meanwhile, his partner wasn’t focused on anything.

“Chuuya! Chuuya! Chuuya! This is it!” The car slowly crept up the first slope. After reaching the peak, the track turned and started to tilt slightly. “Chuuya! We’re tilting! You know what that means?”

Chuuya shook his head. He didn’t want to know what it meant either.

“It’s so the car can turn without losing speed! We’re picking up speed!” After a few more turns, several small drops and endless screaming, Dazai’s voice suddenly became shrill and his knuckles white. “CHUUYA! CHUUYA! IT’S COMING! IT’S COMING!!”

The coaster dived, and Dazai shrieked estatically as the pool grew larger and larger, and it seemed more likely they’d crash into the water. Of course, that was ignoring the clear path of the ride that lead directly into a dark hole in the middle of the pool. Dazai’s breath snagged in his throat, and they were submerged in darkness.

Inside the tunnel was a psychedelic blur. Rainbow lights streaked the walls as the car zoomed past them. It reminded Dazai of cliche, warp-speed movie effects and shooting stars. Make a wish. Dazai wondered if Chuuya was thinking something similar. He turned to his partner. In the racing lights, he thought he saw the hint of a smile. If only this could last a bit longer. Is that too selfish a wish? Then, blinding light. Was this what death was like?

Dazai let go of the air in his chest and screamed as the ride approached its final trick. The track twisted like a tornado, and the car sped down vivaciously until finally coming to a stop.

Dazai was smiling so widely he could have developed wrinkles from this one event. He clutched his stomach and doubled over with laughter the moment the seatbelts were lifted. Eyes squeezed shut, a tear slipped down his cheek.

“I want to get the part where we vanished on camera! Let’s ride it again, okay, Chuuya?”

Chuuya said nothing. In other words, he didn’t say no.

“Want to go shopping, Chuuya?” Dazai muttered something under his breath about better clothes. Chuuya didn’t respond. “No? Okay, let’s just take a walk then! If you see anything you want, let me know—ah! Of course, you’re paying! But tell me if you see something because I don’t want to accidentally leave you behind” strolling ahead, Dazai spun around “because you’re incompetent~!”

The sun was out to get Dazai. The longer he walked around the warehouse grounds, the more sweat accumulated under his bandages. Gross. Why do I need to go out with Chuuya anyway? Meanwhile, a slight breeze brushed against them, threatening to snatch Chuuya’s stupid hat away—Go ahead. Take the hat—and carrying a sweet scent. “Chuuya! Crepes! Let’s get crepes, okay?”

Holding his hat to his head, Chuuya trudged behind Dazai towards the crepe stand.

“Is chocolate okay?” Dazai asked, but it was a little too late to say no as Dazai was already holding one in Chuuya’s direction. Hesitantly, the redhead took it from Dazai’s bandaged hand. He slowly put the crepe to his lips and nibbled on it, completely aware that Dazai was watching him. Come on! Eat faster! It’s good! Aren’t you enjoying it? Dazai then glanced at the brown dessert in his own hand and frowned. He personally loved chocolate, but maybe it was just him. “Chocolate’s okay, right?”

Suddenly, Chuuya took a large bite. Then, another until he had devoured the whole thing. He swallowed the final bite forcefully to Dazai’s chagrin. Well, at least one of them could properly enjoy the sugary taste.

“Ah, man! I totally need to walk this off now!” Dazai patted his stomach clichely. Why did people do that? It only upset his stomach, not that his partner would ever find out. He kept grinning. Hitting the redhead on the back forcefully, Dazai pushed him along. “You too, Chuuya! Especially given the rate you inhaled that thing. Nobody’s metabolism works that fast!”

They wandered aimlessly around the first brick building, Dazai waving his hands dramatically as random nonsense spewed out of his mouth: animal mating habits, cheesy pick up lines, Freud, how Akutagawa’s hair came to be, the migration of the human species, and of course, suicide. They strolled around the second building, walking along the balcony.

“Chuuya, wanna ring these bells?” Dazai tiptoed up to the two small bells. His hand hovered over the string, controlling them.

“No.”

“Too bad!” Dazai tugged the string, yanking it every which way, and the bells sang. It might have been pretty except Dazai kept shaking the string. Consequently, it did not sound like an angelic choir, but instead a song that kept being rewound every two seconds. Down below, near the port, people glanced up. Some of them looked at each other grinning. Others pointed with a laugh or snapped a few pictures. Dazai didn’t understand what the deal was, so he ignored it.

Meanwhile, the sky had begun to dim, and the malevolent sun started to disappear behind the horizon. Dazai watched the golden shadow of the sun dance on the water until it had vanished almost entirely. The temperature had cooled, and small streams of oceanic breeze slipped through Dazai’s bandages and washed the sweat away. Standing in silence, Dazai’s thoughts were allowed to wander, much to his discomfort. Thankfully, he was saved by his growling hunger. “Say, Chuuya, are you hungry?”

“... a French restaurant?”

Dazai winked, “My treat!”

“Thanks.”

Dazai skipped to the receptionist, humming quietly. Chuuya will be blown away by my French! After all, I spent a couple hours studying last night. By studying, he meant google translate. (In the worst pronunciation possible) “Uh...excusez-moi, mademoiselle. Deux s’il vous plaît. Pour mon petit ami et moi.”

The woman’s face turned from a frown into a smile. “Ah, yes. Follow me.” She whispered to one of the waitresses before guiding them to a secluded table. “A waitress will arrive with the menus in just a moment.”

Why won’t she speak French?!

As promised, a waitress quickly arrived and handed them menus. Before leaving, she lit the candle in the center of the table and dimmed the lights. Dazai smirked, “fancy.”

A couple minutes later, the waitress returned. “May I take your order?”

“Oui. Uh… je vou...voudrais le bisque de crabe.”

“You can speak Japanese, monsieur.”

“Eh? But…”

“Please.”

Dazai sighed before covering it with a smile. “Crab bisque please!”

“And you, monsieur?” The waitress turned towards Chuuya who was for some reason really red in the face.

How rude! My french wasn’t that bad! Too preoccupied with his own weakly supported internal defense, Dazai completely missed what Chuuya ordered. Probably some obscure French food no one with taste has ever heard of nor likes. I bet he butchered the pronunciation too! He looked at Chuuya again who was still blushing furiously. “Something wrong, Chuuya?” Better not be my French.

“Yeah…” Chuuya shifted in his seat. He stared at his lap intensely.

“What is it?”

“‘Petit ami’ doesn’t mean what you think it means…”

Dazai grinned. He was going to have fun with this. “Now, now, Chuuya. I know the truth is hard to accept, but let’s face it: you’re short.”

Dazai expected his partner to strangle him or at least kick him under the table, but this new Chuuya was unpredictable. Instead, the redhead readjusted his position (again) and fingered with the knife on the table . “It… it means” He looked away entirely, no longer trying to be discreet about his embarrassment. “...boyfriend…”

“Eh?” Dazai blinked. “EH?!”

Chuuya fell silent, still facing away.

“Ch-Chuuya!” Dazai didn’t know where to look. Nowhere was safe. Everything mocked his mistake. And the lights, oh god, they thought… Dazai started to feel queasy. “W-Why didn’t you say something?!”

“I didn’t realize you were going to try and speak French.”

Dazai buried his burning face in his heads. “Oh god… this is terrible… Someone kill me… I’m ready to die…”

“Yeah...” Both of them just wanted the conversation to end.

“You don’t understand!” Dazai stood up abruptly, almost knocking over the table. “I need to use the restroom.”

Chuuya said nothing. He only sighed when Dazai was gone.

Meanwhile, Dazai rinsed his face over and over again, hoping to put out the fire behind his cheeks. How am I supposed to face him now? How am I supposed to lead the Mafia when I’m “dating” that hat rack? Dating? No. Out of the question. This misconception needs to die. Tonight.

He returned back to the table, and the two of them spent the remainder of their meal in silence. Neither could eat. “H-How about we take these to go...friend?”

Chuuya’s eyes, which judged Dazai, immediately returned to the floor when Dazai looked his way. “Yeah…”

Everything seemed to be going so well earlier; how did it end this way? Retiring to his apartment, Dazai dreaded the next day when Kouyou would find out what happened, and worse, when he would have to face Chuuya again.

#original content #my writing #Nakahara Chuuya #Dazai Osamu #Bungou Stray Dogs #Soukoku #Chuuya #Dazai

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greysfanpage388 · 7 years ago

Text

Hyperemesis Gravidarum

Hey guys- at long last- here is my latest fic, which is the prequel to ‘ Óur Little Princess. ‘ This fic is set in a future timeline, when Omelia have found their way back to each other after their breakup on the show.

I’m sorry for taking so long for this update - real life got in the way- with a conference, work and a knee injury.

This fic is dedicated to @toevenexist who requested for this. :D <3

Special thanks goes out to @jia911 for faithfully setting aside time to help me proofread- you’re really the best!! <3 <3

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy!! <3

The sequel,’Óur Little Princess ‘ can be read here:

http://ailingnoor.tumblr.com/post/166784792136/our-little-princess

P.s : I’ve implemented a little of the Obstetrics knowledge I gained during medical school, internship and early residency into this fic ;)

P.p.s I’ve decided to write in first person again after a long time, as I feel like it gives us more insight into what Amelia is experiencing.

Amelia’s POV

Hyperemesis gravidarum. The medical term for an extreme form of morning sickness, characterized by persistent nausea and vomiting, and associated with poor weight gain. This condition may cause dehydration, electrolyte and acid-base imbalances, nutritional deficiencies and in some extreme cases- death. Severe cases require hospital admission. Statistics show that this condition affects 0.3 -2% of pregnant women, but of course, those are just statistics.

This condition affects women from all walks of life. It doesn’t discriminate. Even Catherine, the Duchess of Cambridge suffered from this condition for all 3 of her pregnancies. One of the attendings I previously worked with at the John Hopkins Hospital also suffered from that condition and she couldn’t work for the entire first trimester of her pregnancy. I can really empathize with them because I’m currently suffering from the same condition too.

It’s not a fun thing to suffer from, let me tell you. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. You can barely keep anything down, you throw up almost every single thing you eat. The only thing you can tolerate eating is saltine crackers.

The morning sickness started in full force since I was 5 weeks pregnant. I threw up almost everything I ate- day and night. Actually, to call it morning sickness isn’t accurate at all. It should be called whole day sickness.

Initially - I thought it was a very bad case of food poisoning when I started throwing up the entire day. I had eaten the cafeteria food after all and it was known to cause food poisoning occasionally. Furthermore, I was babysitting my nieces and nephew who were also ill with a stomach bug a couple of days earlier. I carried on with my work. However, when the symptoms persisted and I realized that I was 2 weeks late- I knew that it was something more than food poisoning. My heart pounding fast, I had bought a couple of pregnancy tests from the pharmacy and took the tests alone in the bathroom at home. I decided to do it myself this time without Owen next to me, as I did not want to disappoint him again should the test turn out negative. We did agree to try again for a baby a couple of months ago. After I had my tumor removed, we both decided to ‘break-up ‘and start anew. It was like a reset button, a brand new start in our relationship. We started dating each other again and learning new things about each other daily. Every new thing I learned about Owen attracted me even more to him, such as when he told me how he would let Megan tag along with him on his outings with friends and even on his dates. It reminded me of my relationship with Derek, and how I would tag along with him for his dates with Addison.

When both tests turned out positive- I had a mixture of feelings. On one hand- I was overjoyed that I was finally starting a family with Owen. I knew that Owen would be in seventh heaven- it had always been his dream to have a family. On the other hand, there was still this nagging feeling at the back of my mind- what if this baby of ours turned out to be anencephalic as well? What if I can only produce anencephalic babies? Would Owen still love me and the baby? However, now that the tumor had been removed from my brain, I had the ability to think and act rationally. If before, my first instinct would be to run away from all my issues, now I knew I had to face it like an adult. I knew that the chance of me having another anencephalic baby is low- less than 5%, and I knew that Owen would be there to support me regardless.

As expected, Owen was over the moon with the news. His grin when I told him was as wide as a Cheshire cat, and he hugged me a little too tightly, spinning me around. I had to remind him not to tell anyone in the hospital yet until I was further along, at least until my first trimester was over. I knew that if it was up to him, he would be announcing it to the entire hospital, and I didn’t want that.

He started mommy tracking me almost immediately, making sure I downed my breakfast of crackers and oats as It was the only breakfast I could tolerate. He made sure I stayed hydrated. He would make chicken soup for me in the evenings, as it was the only main dish I could tolerate.

When I rushed to the bathroom to throw up, especially in the mornings, he would immediately run to my side, hold my hair up and gently pat my back as I emptied my entire guts contents out.

He had also started calling the baby Bean and had already started talking to the baby. When I told him that Bean was only the size of a bean, and couldn't hear him as their ears weren't fully developed yet, he would claim that he knew Bean could hear him.

It did feel a little weird at first, Owen talking to the baby. During my first pregnancy, Ryan wasn’t there to take care of me or speak to my belly. This was all new to me, but I guess I could get used to this.

_______________________________________________________________

Today has been especially rough. I've jolted out of bed to puke in the toilet several times since 5 am this morning.

I am now hunched over the toilet bowl, dry retching. I have emptied my entire guts contents out and now there’s nothing left to throw up anymore.

Owen is patting my back gently as he holds my hair up like he does when I throw up every morning.

I groan and sink onto the cold bathroom floor. I just don’t have the energy to get up.

Owen flushes the toilet and helps me get up, leading me to the sink where I rinse my mouth. It has been our daily routine every morning for the past few weeks.

He then slowly leads me back towards our bed. I gratefully lie back down on the bed, which seems so welcoming at the moment.

‘You sure you don’t want to call in sick today? ‘Owen asks, a concerned tone in his voice as he soothingly rubs my arm and tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear. I have been throwing up every day for the past few weeks, but never so many times in such a short interval.

‘ No! I’m fine, I’ll be. I’ll take the saltine crackers and some oat later. I’m used to this already. I can’t just call in sick every single day if this continues. ‘ I point out. ‘Besides, I have 5 surgeries scheduled for today and several patients I'm supposed to discharge today.’

Owen knows that when I use that tone of voice- there is no arguing with me. He had tried before- last week, he called Bailey to inform her that I wasn’t going down to work, without consulting me beforehand. I got so mad that I drove my own car to the hospital. The look on his face when I appeared in the ER with scrubs after April paged me was priceless.

‘Amelia, no offense but you do not look good at all. You look really pale. Are you sure you can handle a whole day of work? ‘Owen asks again, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

I know Owen means no harm and is just genuinely concerned for me, but something, I guess my pregnancy hormones, is making my blood boil. He’s not the one experiencing this horrible thing, why does he think he has the right to tell me when to go to work?

‘I’m fine, Owen.’ I say stubbornly as I get up of bed, throw the duvet playfully at him and head to the bathroom to shower.

From the corner of my eye, I can see Owen shaking his head in defeat.

_______________________________________________________________

Half an hour later, there is a tense atmosphere in the kitchen as I try to down my breakfast of oats and saltine crackers in silence. Owen keeps on stealing glances at me, and it's beginning to irritate me.

‘'Whatever you have to say, just say it! ‘ I finally snap at him.

‘I just…..you really don’t look good today, Amelia.’ he says earnestly. ‘ I really think you should at least rest for today, I can help you call Bailey and inform her that you’re sick and unable to work today.’

‘ And what excuse are you gonna give? Food poisoning? The Flu? I have gone to work so many times while having food poisoning without any issues. Please don’t tell me you’re gonna tell her that I’m pregnant. The moment I discover that anyone in the hospital knows, I’m gonna strangle you with my bare hands.’ I say with a serious tone.

‘ But they’re gonna find out sooner or later with your condition. April has been asking me why are you rushing to the bathroom in between consults. You can’t go on like this.’ Owen tries to rationalize.

‘I don’t want anyone finding out- not until my second trimester- once it's confirmed that everything is fine and our baby is healthy.’ I say adamantly.

‘Ok fine- we’ll keep it a secret first. But can we at least just inform Bailey? So that she can give you a lighter workload or something? She's a mother herself, she would understand.’ Owen suggests.

I place my spoon on the now empty bowl a little too forcefully.

‘ I do NOT need a lighter workload, Owen! I’m pregnant, not handicapped!' I huff.

Owen raises his hands in the air as a gesture of surrender. Good, at least he knows he isn’t going to win this argument.

Just then, I feel a wave of nausea overtake me and bile rising in my throat again. I rush to the toilet to throw up my breakfast.

‘Amelia,’ Owen is beside me in an instant.

‘Just don’t‘ I mumble, pushing him away gently. I’m just sick and tired- sick of throwing up all the time, sick of not being able to keep any food down, sick of the fact that I have to go through all this during pregnancy.

After I think I have nothing left to throw up anymore, I rinse my mouth and storm out of the bathroom.

I grab my car keys, march out of the front door and jump into the car, turning on the engine immediately.

‘Hey, where are you going! You can’t go to work in this condition!’ I hear Owen call out, but I don’t care anymore.

‘ Bye Owen!’ I roll down the car window and wave at him as he stands there on the car porch, hands on his hips, shaking his head.

_______________________________________________________________

‘ Amelia- are you ok? You look really pale. ‘ April asks me after I have finished updating her about a patient I have consulted for persistent headaches. DeLuca, who has been tagging along with me is reviewing another neuro patient, which he'll be presenting to me later.

Owen had been called to the OR a while ago, I’m so thankful I don’t need to face him yet.

‘I’m fine.’ I reply curtly. DeLuca had asked me the same question during the morning rounds on our patients. I am feeling nauseous and have a bad headache, so I’m not in the mood for small talk with her. I have to admit, April is a very nice person and can be a good friend, but I just don’t feel like talking to her today.

She follows me to the nurses counter, where I sign below the patient’s chart and hand it over to a nurse.

‘You don’t look fine to me.’ she notes, tilting her head slightly as she studies me. Gosh, are all red-heads this persistent?

‘I’m fine really…. ‘I reply, as another wave of nausea hits me.

‘Damn it…. Bean……please don’t do this to mommy. Mommy has work to do.’ I whisper internally as I close my eyes and subconsciously rub my stomach.

April’s eyes widen as she puts two and two together. Of course, she’s a mother too, she should know the symptoms. Damn it. The whole hospital is going to know. News spreads faster than wildfire around the hospital.

‘Congrats! ‘she squeals, a little too perkily for my liking.

‘ How far along are you?’ she asks.

I can’t reply her though, as the next moment I’m rushing to the nearest washroom, covering my mouth with my hands. The last thing I need is to throw up in the ER.

I rush into the first cubicle and throw my entire guts contents out, not even bothering to close the door behind me.

I hear footsteps entering the washroom. Damnit.

‘Amelia, is that you? Are you ok in there?’ April’s voice calls out.

I roll my eyes, concluding that yes, red-heads can be very persistent.

The next minute, April appears behind me.

Concluding that I have nothing left to throw up anymore, I flush the toilet and stumble to one of the sinks, looking at my reflection in the mirror. Both Owen and April are right after all- I do look terrible.

April follows me to the sink and touches my arm comfortingly.

‘ I’m sorry, I know that morning sickness can be horrible.’ she says.

‘ More like whole day sickness.’ I mumble.

April smiles and starts to say something, but I can’t focus on what she’s saying. The entire washroom is spinning, April is spinning.

Suddenly, I find myself lying on the floor as I hear April yelling my name.

Then everything turns black.

_______________________________________________________________

When I open my eyes, I’m having a throbbing headache. It takes me a while to realize that I’m lying on a bed in one of the observation rooms in the ER. Wait, why am I lying on a patient bed in the ER, and not reviewing patients?

I blink my eyes as I try to adjust to the bright fluorescent light of the room. I look down at my hands and notice a cannula inserted into the dorsum of my left hand. I trace the IV line attached to the cannula to a pint of normal saline hung on a stand beside my bed.

I sigh. This is the price to pay for my stubbornness, fainting due to dehydration. Owen is going to be so mad at me.

The room door opens, and April enters with Melissa, my favorite ER nurse.

‘Dr. Shepherd, I’ll need to give you a dose of IV metoclopramide to stop your vomiting.’ Melissa says as she injects the drug into my cannula.

Melissa, as much as I love her because of how efficient she is in her job, is also known to be the biggest gossiper in the hospital. The whole hospital will know my secret in record time.

I smile weakly at her, and then turn to look at April who is standing at the other side of my bed, busy filling in my electronic chart.

‘How long was I out for?’ I ask, my voice croaking.

‘ About 10 minutes.’ she replies in a sympathetic tone of voice. ‘ I’ve just paged Arizona down for a consult. It’s most likely…’

‘ Due to dehydration, I know.’ I complete the sentence for her. 'Í’ve been throwing up the whole day for the past few weeks, but it has become more frequent the past week.’

‘ That must suck, I’m sorry.’ April says sincerely as she puts down the chart and holds my hand. ‘I threw up every morning too when I was pregnant with Harriet, but it was just once every morning. I didn't throw up with Samuel though. I guess every pregnancy is different.' she says as she sighs and looks up at the ceiling, probably thinking about Samuel.

' I didn't throw up when I was pregnant with Unicorn Baby too.' I wanted to say, but I remain silent instead and just squeeze her hand.

'It’s amazing how you can still manage to go to work in this condition.’ April changes the subject as she smiles at me.

‘ Owen tried to convince me to stay at home today, but I was too stubborn.’ I admit, chuckling meekly. ‘He’s going to lecture me for this, I know.’

Just then, a flustered looking Owen himself barges into the room.

‘ Amelia, what happened ?! One of the ER nurses entered the OR in the middle of my surgery to inform me that you had fainted. Meredith is now closing up for me.’ he says, a panicked tone in his voice as he walks over to my bed.

‘ Yeah, I just blacked out…’ I reply weakly, in no mood to argue with him anymore.

April walks over to him and whispers something in his ear, before giving him a pat on the shoulder and leaving the room. I wonder what she is saying. Melissa leaves the room shortly after, leaving me and Owen alone in the room.

I swallow hard, expecting Owen to say ‘ I told you so.’ Instead, he walks over to my bed and holds my hand in his without saying a word.

‘ I’m sorry, Owen.’ I say meekly. ‘ I know I should have listened to you, but I didn’t. I’m sorry. I really thought that I could still work.’

Owen sighs in reply. ‘I just hate seeing you so sick like this.’ he says. ‘ I wish I can do something to ease your suffering.’

He kisses me tenderly on the forehead.

‘ Well, you've been doing a great job in taking care of me so far.’ I say as I smile weakly at him.

‘ It’s my duty.’ he claims as he squeezes my hand.

Before I can reply, Arizona enters the room, pushing an ultrasound machine which she leaves at the corner of the room.

‘ Hey guys.’ she greets us in her usual perky manner and cheerful voice. ‘ I hear that congratulations are in order.’

Owen and I exchange looks, knowing that our secret is going to be spread throughout the entire hospital in no time.

‘ Thanks.’ I reply, giving her a small smile. ‘ It’s no fun though, throwing up all the time.’

‘ I know….’ Arizona replies sympathetically. ‘ You fainted due to excessive dehydration from the vomiting. I’m ordering a tds dose of IV metoclopramide and continuing your IV drip.’ she says as she types the orders into my electronic chart. ‘ Also- I’m afraid that you have to be admitted for observation.’

I stare at her wide-eyed, unable to believe what I’m hearing. No, I cannot be admitted! I have work to do, I have patients to attend to and operate on, I can’t possibly be admitted.

‘ No, no….I can’t!’ I say exasperatedly, pushing myself to sit upright on the bed. ‘ I have 5 surgeries today, and I’m holding the pager for Neuro today. Nelson doesn’t know my patients, I can’t possibly let him operate on my patients without knowing their history.’

I look over at Owen, silently pleading to him with my eyes, but he seems to agree with Arizona.

‘ I thought DeLuca was tagging along with you today? He can help to handover your patients to Nelson. Also, I can help you to pass him the pager. He’s still outside, helping you to review another patient. Relax, Amelia. He has got this. You need to have a little more faith in him.’ Owen says, as I scowl at him and rest my head back on the pillow.

‘ Amelia, I know you have work to do, but right now, you’re my patient, and as your doctor, I’m telling you that you need to be admitted to the wards.’ Arizona says gently but firmly. I know that when she uses that tone of voice, there’s no arguing with her.

‘ Fine,’ I sigh in reply.

‘ Amelia, I just want you to take care of yourself. And Bean.’ Owen says as he squeezes my hand and gives my belly a subtle rub.

‘ See, your husband cares so much for you.’ Arizona says, winking at me.

‘I know he does. ‘ I admit, knowing that it is the truth, Owen does indeed care so much for me.

‘So just lie down and relax, Amelia. You need to take care of yourself and your baby first. Stressing out about work isn’t good for your health.’ Arizona says gently, as she touches me lightly on the arm.

I close my eyes and let myself relax. She is right, I should relax and take care of myself and Bean, and not stress out too much about work.

Arizona pushes the ultrasound machine to my bedside.

‘Amelia, I’m going to perform an ultrasound scan on you now, just to make sure that everything is fine. Ok?’ she asks as she gives me a warm smile.

‘ Ok.’ I answer, my heart pounding in anticipation of seeing Bean again. The last time I saw Bean was 3 weeks ago when I first found out that I was pregnant.

‘Have you been taking your antenatal vitamins regularly?’ Arizona asks.

‘Yes, I have.’ I answer earnestly. I’m not going to risk this baby having any sort of deformity just because I neglected my antenatal vitamins.

‘ Are you experiencing any bleeding? Abdominal cramps or discomfort? Diarrhea?’ Arizona asks as she adjusts the settings on the scan machine.

‘’ Nope. No other symptoms besides vomiting.’ I answer.

‘Ok, good. This is going to feel a little cold.’ Arizona says as she squeezes the gel on my abdomen and I wince at the cold sensation.

Owen, meanwhile, is sitting silently beside my bed, holding my hand. His eyes are transfixed on the ultrasound screen. I know that he’s just as excited to see Bean again. I remember the first time he saw Bean, his face lit up like a child on Christmas Day.

‘Ok, are you ready to see your baby? ‘Arizona asks as she smiles at us.

‘Ýes.’ both of us reply in unison, as Owen squeezes my hand in support. I think he can sense that I'm not only excited but anxious as well. All 3 pairs of eyes are now fixed on the screen in anticipation.

Arizona manipulates the ultrasound probe until an image of the fetus appears on the screen. I feel my heart skip a beat at the sight of our baby, part me and part Owen, growing inside me right now.

‘ Ok, here is your baby.’ Arizona announces. ‘You can see the head,' she says as she points at the head. 'It’s still too early to see the other body parts though. I’ll book a detailed scan for you at 14 weeks to detect abnormalities. I’ll measure the crown-rump length first to confirm the gestational age and the EDD.’

‘A head.’ I whisper. ‘ Owen, our baby has a head!’ I know that anencephaly can only be detected during the 14-week scan- I’ve learned that during medical school and internship, and Arizona had discussed it with me in detail during my first visit. But still, seeing that the baby has a head is really reassuring.

Owen, knowing my history of having an anencephalic baby during my first pregnancy, rubs my arm in support and kisses my forehead.

Silence fills the room as Arizona proceeds to measure the crown-rump length of the fetus. No one utters a word. Owen and I are too transfixed on the little blob of miracle that we have created, while Arizona is busy with the measurements.

‘ Crown-rump length corresponds to 8 weeks gestation, which matches your LMP. We’re still sticking to the same EDD.’ she announces cheerfully.

I take my eyes off the screen for a while to look at Owen. He is staring at the screen in awe. I know his heart must be leaping with joy.

Our eyes meet and we exchange a joyful grin.

‘ Wanna hear the heartbeat?’ Arizona asks. ‘ Yes, please.’ Owen replies as I draw a deep breath and say a silent prayer to the powers above. Please let this baby be ok.

Arizona further adjusts the scan settings and soon the ‘lub dup’ sound of the baby’s heartbeat fills the entire room.

I release the breath that I don’t realize I’m holding. A wide smile forms on Owen’s face.

‘ Here’s the baby’s heartbeat. It’s strong. Everything seems fine.’ she says, smiling cheerfully.

‘ Hear that, Amelia? Our baby’s heartbeat is strong, and everything is fine.’ Owen repeats reassuringly to me as he bends down to kiss my cheek. Tears inadvertently spring to my eyes. Maybe I can actually have a healthy baby after all?

‘ Our baby is fine.’ I whisper, more to myself, daring myself to believe it.

‘ The 14-week ultrasound will confirm any abnormalities, but yes your baby seems fine.’ Arizona says in a reassuring tone. ‘ I’ll give you two some privacy now. I have booked a private room for you on the Obs floor, Amelia.’ she adds. ‘ They’ll transfer you up there as soon as the room is ready.’

‘ Ok, thanks Arizona.’ I say gratefully as she nods at us and leaves the room.

Once we’re left alone in the room, Owen and I exchange a smile as our eyes meet. We do not need to say anything as our eyes communicate it all. We can read each other perfectly through our body language and the expression in our eyes. His eyes are showing so much love and joy, it is contagious. I can’t help but feel overjoyed too. I think my eyes must be reflecting extreme relief. There is always this nagging feeling at the back of my mind that this baby might be anencephalic too, but both scans have been fine so far, and Owen has been so supportive and helping me to ease my anxieties.

Owen climbs on the bed beside me and holds me tight as I snuggle up to him, relishing in the warmth and comfort of his embrace.

I take his hand and place in on top of my still flat lower abdomen, where our little Bean is safely nestled inside. I then rest my hand on top of his. Nothing is going to get in the way of our happy little family.

_______________________________________________________________

Over the next few days, Owen would leave my room only to get some food for us or to get a new change of clothes from home. He has taken an emergency leave just to be by my side. He even makes it a point to cook some soup and porridge for me whenever he manages to go home. He makes sure that I finish all my food, claiming that I have been losing so much nutrients from all my throwing up the past few weeks, and it wasn’t good for me or Bean. My appetite is slowly returning, and I am not throwing up anymore thanks to the IV metochlopramide. However, Arizona has advised me not to take solid foods in the meantime until I am fully recovered.

Meredith, Maggie and the Shepherd kids come to visit me daily, bringing me get well soon cards and drinks. Meredith has brought me more saltine crackers, claiming that it was the only thing she could tolerate too, while pregnant with Ellis. Zola is over the moon with the prospect of having another cousin. She has never met her existing cousins before, so this is the first cousin she’s going to get to be close to. She has brought me a huge teddy bear, which she claims is a gift to both me and Bean. Bailey has presented me with a handmade get well soon card. Both gifts bring tears to my eyes.

Andrew DeLuca has also visited me several times, to update me about our patients and how the surgeries went, which I really appreciate.

April, Alex and several other attending colleagues have also visited me after their shifts, staying for a while to keep me company while Owen goes out to get some food. Webber and Bailey have also visited a couple of times. When they visited me during the time I had my tumor removed, it was the first time since I arrived in Seattle that I actually felt like I belonged. It was then that I realized that my home is here, in Seattle. Them visiting me and caring for me now just cements this fact. I am so grateful for the people I call my family.

Owen has offered to help me call my mom a few times, but I refuse, saying that if she wasn’t here for the wedding or the tumor ( I had called her while recovering from the surgery and she didn't come), she certainly doesn't deserve to be here for my morning sickness.

According to him, she needs to know that she has another grandchild on the way. I finally concede, agreeing with him that she deserves to know that, but I want to wait until my detailed 14-week scan before I announce it to her.

_______________________________________________________________

It has been 5 days since I was admitted. The vomiting has ceased and my appetite has returned. I have been bored out of my mind the past 5 days. Although I really appreciate all the company and support I’m receiving, I cannot get used to lying on the bed, watching sappy TV shows and reading boring journals or cheesy novels all day. I miss the adrenaline rush of reviewing patients in the ER and operating on patients in the OR. I am so ready to get back to work.

I open my eyes from my nap to find Owen curled up in bed beside me, one hand resting automatically on my belly as he snores softly. I look at him sleeping peacefully, wondering how did I get so lucky to find a man who really cares so much about me.

I shift slightly, causing him to open his eyes. He looks at me full of love.

‘Hey,’ he whispers, as he kisses me on the cheek. ‘ How are you feeling now? How is Bean treating you today?’

‘ I’m feeling much better.’ I reply, smiling at him.

‘ Good.’ he says earnestly. ‘ It breaks my heart to see you so sick like this.'

‘ I know. I don’t enjoy it very much either.’ I joke feebly.

Owen then places his hand on my lower abdomen, tracing the outline of my still flat belly, which is being covered by my hospital gown.

‘ Hey Bean, please be good to your mother. Try not to make her sick again ok? She’s ensuring that you grow healthy and stay safe inside, so do her a favor and don’t make her throw up again ok? She needs to take enough food and nutrition for the both of you.’ he says gently.

‘I hope this works. Maybe Bean only listens to you. I’ve been trying to tell Bean to stop making me throw up for ages but it doesn't work.’ I admit as I place my hand on top of his.

‘ It’ll work.’ Owen says as he releases his hand from my belly and kisses me on the lips affectionately.

We cuddle close together, just feeling the warmth of each other's embrace.

Arizona now enters the room, a wide smile on her face.

‘ Hey guys.’ she greets us cheerfully, holding my electronic chart in her hand. ‘How are you doing today Amelia? Everything ok?’

‘ No more vomiting, I can finish my food, no abdominal cramps or spotting.’ I answer before she could ask the routine questions. ‘ Now can I be discharged?’ I ask her, winking.

She chuckles at my enthusiasm.

‘ Good. From your vitals and charts, everything seems to be fine. So yes, you can be discharged today.’ she says.

‘ Yay!’ I pump my fists in the air in celebration as both Owen and Arizona laugh at me.

‘ Thanks, Arizona.’ I say as I hug her tightly. ‘ Thanks for taking good care of me.’

‘ It’s just my job.’ she replies, reciprocating the hug. ‘ I’m gonna go sign your discharge papers now. You need to rest at home first for the next few days before you return to work. If you feel the symptoms coming back, give me a call or a page immediately.’

‘Ok.’ I reply as I smile at her.

‘ Hear that Bean?’ I say, rubbing my tummy affectionately as soon as Arizona leaves the room. ‘ We’re going home!’

‘ I’m gonna go home to set the thermostat and prepare your favorite meal.’ Owen announces as he kisses me on the cheek.

‘ My second homecoming?’ I joke, winking at him. It reminds me of when I had my tumor removed and Owen finally convinced me to go home with him after I had been staying with my sisters for several months prior to that. He also prepared my favorite food and set the thermostat to a temperature I was comfortable with that time.

‘ Well- hopefully, your next homecoming will be with our baby.’ he says, winking back at me as I giggle.

Hopefully, fingers crossed, I’ll be able to enjoy the rest of my pregnancy, surrounded by my loving husband and caring family, and we’ll have a healthy baby. I now am full of hope.

Ok, this is it guys- I really hope you enjoyed it! Comments, reblogs, reviews and messages are very much appreciated. I would really love to know what you guys think!! I love hearing from you all!! <3 <3

I have a few more fluffy Omelia fics planned- which is what we need after the recent development on the show. Do stay tuned! ;)

#owen hunt #amelia shepherd #omelia #omeliafics #omelia fanfiction #omelia fanfics #ailing's fics #grey's anatomy

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