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sbdskate · 8 months

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Laws Of Attraction (Part 8) - DR x lawyer!fem!reader

Summary: McLaren is in breach of contract, dr3 hires a lawyer to deal with the aftermath. Tropes ensue. Slow burn. Enemies (kind of)-> Friends/colleagues -> Lovers

Pairing: lawyer!fem!reader x Daniel Ricciardo

Warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff, language, slight angst, alcohol consumption, McLaren, bad jokes

Word Count: 4,277

A/N: I tried out some different writing styles this chapter and candidly, I’m not sure it’s my best work. There are more scenes from DR’s perspective and I found out that writing race dialogue is very difficult. I tried to stay true to the actual Abu Dhabi 2022. Please bear with me through this chapter, feedback of any kind is always appreciated. Please, thank you, and enjoy!

When you arrived at the paddock, Daniel was still distracting himself by taking pictures of literally everything, including the ground. You let him be though, no matter how silly it seemed. The last thing he needed was to psych himself out before the race. As you approached, the McLaren PR crew was already waiting with cameras to get content for the last Unboxed video of the season which was your cue to peel off.

“How are you feeling?” you asked hesitantly, making sure to keep an appropriate distance from your client.

“Honestly, I’m fine. Maybe I’ll feel different once the suit’s on, but right now I’m good.”

“You’ll let me know if you need anything, right?” He caught the seriousness in your tone and found it endearing you were being so protective of him. It seemed you were more nervous than he was.

“Actually, hold on,” he stopped walking.

“What? Is everything alright? Oh-” *click* “Daniel!” He laughed at your disgruntled expression as he lowered the camera.

“I’m fine, promise. I’ll see you after the race.” He gave you a polite pat on the shoulder as he began to walk away, but you grabbed his arm before he was out of reach and pulled him in for a big hug before you could second guess yourself. He didn’t think twice as he wrapped his arms around you. You quickly released him, reinstating the arm’s length between you.

“Good luck today, you’re going to do great,” you said as you composed yourself. He walked backwards continuing your extended goodbye, unable to look away from you.

“I know,” he said, with a cocky smile plastered on his face. *click*

You snorted, your stoicism overpowered by his charm. You waved one last time as a sendoff before he disappeared into McLaren hospitality.

As usual with race day, it was a lot of hurry up and wait. Daniel exchanged helmets with Lando and Zhou, sat for photos with the team, sat for photos with the grid. He tried to take in every detail. He laughed when he walked in the garage and saw his mechanics donning cowboy hats embroidered with “yee-haw thanks DR” and the outline of him doing a shoey.

Everyone seemed to think he would be walking around as though he were attending his own funeral, but for the moment he felt he didn’t have much to be sad about. He needed a break – from the spotlight, from McLaren, from training, from racing in general, and there was no shame in that. In twelve hours that break would become a reality, and that was something to be very happy about.

When it came time to change into his race suit, he waited with baited breath for the garment to exert some kind of magical force over him. He stood in his drivers room waiting for the tears, or nerves, or something. Everyone told him it would hit him when he put the suit on. But he examined himself in the mirror, widened his stance and put his hands on his hips. Power pose. No, he was still the same Daniel Ricciardo, despite what people tried to tell him. And this was just another race.

It was less than ideal starting P13 due to a three-place grid penalty carried over from the Brazilian Grand Prix after his run-in with Yuki, but Daniel pushed aside all the growing frustrations as he waited eagerly for the lights to change, feeling his pulse sync with the idled roar of the engine. The few seconds before the race played out in slow motion, as they always did. The rest of the pressures of the moment faded away as he focused on what was in front of him, ready to react. He was at peace, and allowed himself to feel the overwhelming therapeutic emptiness. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

And it’s lights out and away we go!

He survived the first lap shuffle and chaos, but lost a position to Lance. There was still plenty of race left though, and his goal first and foremost was a clean race without a DNF. Making it through the first few clustered laps unscathed was step one. Once the pack started to disperse, he began his grueling climb back to the points.

Here comes Daniel Ricciardo on the inside of Schumacker, gaining a place back.

It was lonely for a while. He extended his lead from Mick, but couldn’t seem to fully catch up to Lance. Lance pitted on lap 14, as expected with mediums if going for a two-stop strategy, allowing Daniel to gain a position. It subsequently opened up the floodgates, others shortly following suit bringing Daniel up to P8. He knew he would have to pit eventually, but if he could just nurse this set a bit longer and maintain this position as long as possible, he had a shot to finish in the points.

Lap 18, Daniel Ricciardo still hasn’t pitted yet.

Even in the last race, it shouldn’t have surprised him that McLaren would try to short stick him one last time. Good riddance he would be done with this circus in an hour. George passed him, as he expected in better machinery and on fresher tires.

He finally pitted on lap 20, switching to hards. The team did a great job with a 2.3 second pit stop but he came out in P18. He had a job to do, it was time to get to work.

Daniel Ricciardo, down in 18th place. Making some overtakes and having a bit of fun. Makes a lovely move on Kevin Magnusson going into Turn 9.

In quick succession, he picked off Mick and Bottas, Seb pitted, and somehow Alonso DNF’d. Before he knew it, he was back to where he started in P13.

Fernando Alonso has not had the best of luck, our first retirement of this evening. Mechanical failure. That is a real shame for him, real shame. Meanwhile, here comes Sebastian Vettel! Haven’t said that in a while. Very nice move on Pierre Gasly.

News at Alpine that there’s some water leak, that was why they had to pull Fernando in. He feels the unreliability there has cost him nearly seventy points during the course of this season. Since he came back to Formula One, well, the reunion with Alpine then Renault has ended in retirement. Sad for all parties. And this means that Fernando Alonso has been beaten by his teammate, Esteban Ocon. But I’ll tell you a bit more about that later, as Daniel Ricciardo manages to get past the Alfa Romeo of Zhou Guanou.

He encroached on Alex, smelling blood in the water. Even though Alex nicked the wall, he maintained the position longer than he thought. He had to respect the work the kid was doing in that tractor trailer of a Williams. The track conditions were cooling as the sun set, making it difficult to regulate the temperature of the tires.

Daniel Ricciardo trying down the inside there on Alex Albon. Now you saw what happened in Mexico when he tried that on an unsuspecting Yuki Tsunoda and they came together, but this time around they managed to keep apart. But uh, for McLaren they need to start clearing a few cars here. Norris is seventh. Ricciardo out of the points. Albon now pits.

He wished he could have overtaken Alex properly, but he wasn’t complaining as he gained another position. The second stoppers continued, moving his way up to P9. He could breathe a bit now that he was officially in the points. But it was short lived as his friend, former teammate, and mentor had popped up in his rearview, more than two seconds behind, but quickly closing the gap. There were still fifteen laps requiring him to preserve the tires while defending his position.

Sebastian Vettel is gaining a bit on Daniel Ricciardo in tenth place. Ten laps to go.

He almost missed the second Aston Martin in his rearview as Lance passed both of them. He shared Seb’s frustration that they were the sacrificial lambs of their respective teams testing out the one-stop strategy. He was still in the points for now, but Seb was an admirable adversary and with only seven laps left in the race he would not take the position for granted. With officially one second between them, he had to push. They were both on very old tires, but Seb’s were younger.

The two leavees, Ricciardo and Vettel. Vettel’s closing in on Ricciardo, and he’s going to get him in the next lap or so if the current pace keeps up. Five laps to go in the Formula One season, 2022.

And oh my God, what’s this? Hydraulic problem for Hamilton, as you can see as Carlos Sainz passes Lewis who’s still stuck in seventh gear! This might be curtains for Lewis Hamilton this evening. He’s got it down into fifth gear – oh. Oh no, this is disappointing.

As was the nature of racing, he wasn’t going to question his adversary’s misfortune. With a mechanical failure taking Lewis out, he moved back into P9. He was so close to the finish line he could taste it, but Seb was still less than a second behind.

The final lap. He saw the fireworks go off for Max, but he couldn’t lose focus.

Daniel Ricciardo under immense pressure from Sebastian Vettel. This is going to go all the way to the wire.

There’s twelve million dollars on Sebastian Vettel trying to overtake Daniel Ricciardo here, twelve million dollars if they can get extra points at Aston Martin to see if they can get above Alfa Romeo in the Constructor’s Championship. Is it Ricciardo or Vettel? Nineth or tenth? Both drivers leaving as of the end of this season. Ricciardo potentially to go as a reserve driver at Red Bull. Sebastian Vettel waving goodbye to Formula One and giving us thrills and excitement right to the checkered flag! Is he going to get past Daniel Ricciardo? It’s going to be close!

Ricciardo takes that nineth place, Sebastian Vettel scores tenth in his final race! And well, what did he say? “Remember these times, they might not last forever.” Sebastian, thank you. The memories definitely will.

Daniel's jaw unclenched to let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in that moved his whole chest, shoulders relaxing. He barely had time to process what he had just accomplished when his engineers came on the radio.

“Yes mate, P9. Good job. Finished in the points. Good stuff, good stuff.”

“Cheers guys, that was, uh, that was fun at the end. Think we did well to hold him off, well done. That was good.”

“Great race buddy. Great overtaking, that was a proper Honey Badger show, that was good.”

He bit his tongue. He could only be so pleasant to the people who had diminished his confidence over the last two years. Having officially crossed the finish line of his last race, he would remain polite and cordial but didn’t feel the need to suck up to them more than he needed to.

“Daniel, could I have Purple Default 64X. And if you could go back to Purple C1.”

He did as he was told, unphased by the short radio congratulations. He was pleasantly surprised, however, when a picture of his win at Monza last year popped up with the rest of the team. The memory of that day came flooding back and the feelings that went along with it. The triumph he finally felt. The renewed sense of hope for what may come with the rest of his tenure with McLaren. The Daniel in the picture had no idea he would basically be kicked out of the sport he loved so much in less than a year. He had no idea he would fall out of love with it, even as he was just starting to get his groove back.

“That’s cool,” he chuckled. “That’s really nice, thank you guys.”

“Cheers buddy. It’s been an honor, Daniel. It’s been an honor, really great good two years.” He hated the lump he felt in his throat. “I know we haven’t always had the results we’ve wanted, but we’ve had some pretty good ones along the way. And uh, I think I speak for everyone on the team when I say how much we’ve all enjoyed working with you.” He swallowed thickly, praying no one had eyes on the front facing camera in the car.

“Yeah, appreciate your efforts. Thank you…Alright, it’s nice to finish in the points. Well done guys. Thank you.” He did his best to switch the conversation back to race at hand, taking away the focus of the gravity and finality of the situation. Looking at it in isolation, away from the totality of the last two years, it was a good race. He continued to drive and wave around the track, doing some donuts here and there, but the gestures felt empty.

“Ok, so into the pit lane, and when you turn the engine off then go to P0. Kill the car and switch everything off.” The back of his eyes began to sting. Switch everything off.

“Understood. Uh, alright guys.” There was so much he wanted to say but he was never good with words, especially not at this moment. “Thank you. I think you know…how much I appreciate your efforts over the last two years. So… thank you.” He tried to keep his tone steady, but felt his voice crack. “And thanks for this display, on Purple C64. Cheers.”

“Yeah, 03 we weren’t really able to use I’m afraid.” He knew the engineers were only talking about the mechanical configurations, but the words felt like a gut punch. They were done with him. There was nothing more that needed to be said.

The feelings he had waited for all day, the ones everyone expected, suddenly hit him like an avalanche. He wanted to get out of the car desperately, but couldn’t do so when he was a mess like this. It was probably the last time for the rest of the night that he would have any time to be by himself with just his thoughts. It was done – and he realized again after taking a few moments to compose himself, maybe for now that was a good thing. What was it Seb had said?

“There are a lot more important things than racing in circles.”

He jumped out of the car, feeling the impact of the gravel below his feet. He stretched his limbs, finally free from the confines of the cockpit and was hit by a wave of relief that washed over him. He was free from expectations, restrictive diets, constant jet lag. Free from McLaren. All he had to do was get into his ugly orange team kit one last time for post-race interviews. He knew he would be asked hard questions, about his past and his future, but he was ready. He had nothing to be ashamed of, and if anything, had many things to be proud of. You’re the only driver to have won in that brick of a car in the last ten years you constantly reminded him. He finished the season on a high, including a great race battle with Seb. He was done hiding, done minimizing.

So he went from interview to interview, unafraid to be honest with himself and the world. It’s ok to admit that he’s had a hard time the last two years, that he’s happy to be taking some time away from the sport and to take care of his mental health.

He slowly made his way back to the McLaren garage as he pushed through the crowd, dodging fans trying to get selfies and autographs, politely declining additional interviews and comments from strangers. In a sea of blurred faces, he spotted you. One of the mechanics had gifted you an extra celebratory cowboy hat and you appeared to be in deep conversation with one of them. Your hands moved around animatedly as you spoke, like they always did when you were passionate about something. The mechanic laughed, and he wondered what joke you had told or whether you had said something unintentionally funny. He found himself smiling, excited to get the answer.

The mechanic noticed him first and waved. He touched your shoulder and pointed in Daniel’s direction. You squinted as you searched the crowd with intense focus. Daniel’s heart nearly exploded when your eyes finally landed on him – you waved eagerly with the biggest, brightest smile on your face that put all the track lights and fireworks to shame.

The mechanic gave him a quick hug and pat on the back first, adding a subtle wink for good measure before walking away, seemingly aware of the need for the two of you to have your own space. For the second time that day, you engulfed each other in a warm, firm hug that perhaps lasted a beat too long. He liked how you perched on your tip toes to get your head as close to the crook of his neck as possible. He liked the feeling of your small, delicate hands on his back. He liked that he could smell your hair products, distinct from the scent of your perfume, sweet florals and jasmine contrasting accents of patchouli and bergamot. He liked you.

“Congratulations! I’m so happy for you, you were amazing today,” you gushed.

“Thanks,” he said, knowing that the flush he felt in his cheeks wasn’t from the race.

“How are you feeling now?” you asked sincerely. He took a moment to think on it before answering.

“I’m not sure. Good I think, but tired.”

“That’s valid.”

“How was your day?” It was an innocent question, so he was confused when you laughed. He was just trying to make conversation. “What?”

“You just had your last race of the season and you’re officially getting out of your contract with McLaren tomorrow, and you’re asking me how my day went?” He shrugged.

“I’ve already talked about myself more than enough today. I want to hear about you.” Your laugh lines softened.

“Well, let’s see. I didn’t have to work, I met Usher, and I got to watch my friend’s last F1 race and he kicked so much butt. So I’d say it was pretty great.” His heart skipped a beat. Friend.

“You met Usher?” He glossed over the other stuff, unable to trust himself if you delved any further into the topic.

“Yeah, he was hanging out in the McLaren garage. Did not have that on my 2022 bingo card. But uh…” a sheepish grin grew on your face. “I don’t think he appreciated I kept dropping his lyrics in casual conversation.”

“Oh no,” he laughed, and the smile on your face grew.

“Y’know… just when I thought I said all I could say, he was like…yeah. And he also said -”

“Hold on let me guess,” he said between giggles. “You remind him of a girl he once knew.”

“You know…you would not believe all the things she put him through,” you said, joining him in laughter. He observed you playing with your hands behind your back, your chest puffed slightly, clearly finding great joy in your own corny jokes.

“Maybe if we’re lucky he’ll perform at the McLaren afterparty.” The words rolled off his tongue before he had the chance to think about what he was asking of you. It was one thing to go out with some of the other drivers offsite, but a McLaren sponsored event when you had been their adversary only a short few months ago was less than appropriate.

“You’ll have to let me know.” His heart fell a little, not missing the polite decline of his subtle invitation. He didn’t want to admit how much he truly needed you there. But he was on a roll with this whole honesty thing, so he bore his soul to you.

“I don’t want to go,” he said in a low voice, running an anxious hand through his hair. “I’m tired and I don’t know how I’m supposed to spend the night celebrating with these people. I can barely look half of them in the eye.” He couldn’t remember the last time he had begged for anything. He hoped his plea would be convincing enough, but you only gave him a sympathetic smile.

“You’ll be ok. Lando will be there, and there are plenty of people in your garage that had nothing to do with the decisions Zak or Andrea made. You still have people in your corner. Lots of them. And they want to celebrate with you.” He closed his eyes as you encouragingly rubbed the side of his arm, but finished with a firm pat. “Chin up. You’re almost done.”

Right. The race was only half the battle he would face today. Until the end of the day, he was still an employee of McLaren.

“Will you come pick me up if the kids at school are mean to me?” He always used humor as a defense mechanism, but he hated how much truth there was in the metaphor. You leaned in close to whisper your reassurance, a calm pleasantness in your shadow of a smile. You spoke slowly and deliberately.

“I will commit a felony and make it look like an accident if anyone is mean to you.” He was left grinning from ear to ear when you pulled away, your quiet resolve contagious as he felt his anxiety melt away. “You got this, and I promise I will celebrate with you after everything is signed tomorrow.” You extended your pinky, and he gladly linked his with yours in a solemn vow.

“Fuck ‘em all, yeah?”

“Fuck ‘em all.”

You sat in bed freshly showered, full body shaved, and facemask on. You felt guilty as hell sending your client off to the lion’s den with no support, so you had gone straight back to the hotel once he was out of sight. There was no need to go to the Amber Lounge or anything, not that you would even be able to get in without Daniel. Besides, you had your own personal Super Bowl tomorrow that you needed to be prepared for. You had ordered room service and shot off a few emails when you heard a knock. You checked the time – it was nearly midnight. You wrapped yourself in the cozy hotel robe for modesty before checking the peephole. To your confusion, but not surprise, you saw Daniel standing by himself in the hallway.

“Hi?” He looked up, admiring your frame in the doorway. You were just as beautiful in a robe and slippers as you were in a LBD and Louboutins. He bit his lip for a moment, clearly holding back a smile.

“Hi. Uh, I think you got something-” he trailed off, lightly brushing the tip of his nose with his finger.

“What? Oh! Fuck. Right.” You turned around to quickly rip the nose strip off your face. You winced, feeling the sting of the adhesive. You did your best to hide your discomfort and embarrassment with a smile when you turned back around. “Sorry about that. You’re back earlier than I thought.”

“Yeah. I figure I showed enough face for the evening. Plus big day tomorrow, right?” You nodded, unsure where this exchange was going as he fidgeted in place. “Also…” he looked around cautiously. “I didn’t want to get caught stealing this.” He pulled a bottle of very expensive champagne from behind his back, proudly presenting it to you. Your jaw dropped and morphed into a giant grin in spite of the arguably illegal activities that had transpired.

“You didn’t…For me?” You grabbed the bottle from him, feelings goosebumps form when your fingers brushed. “Wait. If I accept this, does it make me an accomplice or accessory after the fact?” He chuckled.

“I don’t know, you’re the lawyer. You tell me.” He took a step forward.

“Well. I’m not going to say no to a free drink I suppose,” you said, examining the bottle in your hands. He cleared his throat.

“I figured we could enjoy it after tomorrow – or, I mean, you could enjoy it,” he took another step forward. For reasons unknown, he seemed to lose confidence as the gap between you narrowed.

You looked back up at him, inspecting his condition. Perhaps he was a little tipsy, but he was far from being wasted which you were pleasantly surprised about given his apprehensions going into the evening. It either meant he wasn’t leaning on alcohol to handle his emotions, or he was taking tomorrow’s signing very seriously, or both. Whichever one it was, it demonstrated restraint and growth and you were proud of him for it. Admittedly, you had also been nervous leaving him to his own devices for the evening. You had wanted to go with him, to be there for emotional support. You had relied on the rationale that it was a McLaren sponsored event, but at this point the two of you had a consistent track record of blurring the lines of professionalism and friendship whenever you went out together. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him – you didn’t trust yourself.

But the man standing in front of you was composed and mature (relatively speaking, of course). Perhaps a little nervous, as you watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. But nevertheless, even after the emotional, mental, and physical turmoil of the day, he stood before you with respect and poise. Yes, you trusted yourself with him wholeheartedly.

You took a step back, opening the door wider.

“How about we enjoy it now?”

Tags: @ravenqueen27 @leslizzle @zendayabelova @eitak-t @chiliwhore @wewoo1233 @thatchickwiththecamera

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wonik1ss · 13 days

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౨ৎ Stay Until 2 ? — kim minji

001. age changer + written | masterlist

taglist : @technicallyimportantsweets @juhyunsthirdwife @jjkills @kimakento @fluffyji @somedaydream @emphobics @zey1ltn @lovepjohootoa @takpayahtahu @nwjsenthusiast @baewonlove @aeriniee @mygfiswonyoung @heekkicr @jinsoulinator @addorations @ssoursss @klvarchives @yerimbrit @gayforalll @haerinsloverr @slowlydifferentbluebird @yawnzlvr @technicallyimportantsweets @juhyunsthirdwife @kimakento @deersteel @hannibangggg @popasi @rianosis @jkwsel @eternalgayshits @dearyujimin

you took a deep breath before you turned on your stream. after a few minutes the comments started to roll in and your giggled did too. minju being one of them made your smile burn brighter.

“hay bun buns ! today we are going to be doing something a little different.. one of you will get to play fortnite with me..”. as you sighed your rolled your eyes at the comments.

@juju.beat — LET ME JOIN AND WHOP YOUR ASS !

@fan2821 — YAHH

@fan3826 — I miss haerin :(

“your so funny minju !”. you rolled your eyes as you looked to see minju donated 0.33 cents.

@juju.beat — suck it ;D <3

you made a heart to the camera then flipped it off, and more and more comments came.

“if you want to join me just check my newest tweet and put down your Fortnite user and discord so we can chat why’ll we play !”. after posting the tweet for a few minutes you just talked to your fan. while a couple miles away sixteen year old hyein was ecstatic to join her favorite youtuber. hurriedly hyein responded the the tweet her favorite bts playlist playing in the background.

then after a few minutes of geeking out hyein stationed herself at her computer loading Fortnite and discord in her pink pajama’s.

“hyein-ah get to sleep now !”

“yes mom !”. hyein ran to turn of her lights and after a few minutes turned on her leds. meanwhile you finally stopped drowning on about your new cat. opening up twitter for your stream your scrolled and waited a few minutes.

“and…. hye_iup on Fortnite and discord won ! pls accept my friend requests and we will finally start some gameplay !”. hyein eyes half opened jumped. did you actaully say her name?

just to be sure hyein checked and you were requesting to follower her. after some breathing exercises hyein accepted voice and joined your discord call.

“hi.. how are you?”

“42”. you paused. surely your hearing things..

“ok.. do you want to just jump-“

“ofcourse can’t wait to beat you this will be soooo easy”. you sat stunned for a minute before your competitiveness kicked in.

“I’ve been practicing !”. hyein pretend to yawn.

“we’re you practicing that one time haerin snipped you on her first game..”. your chat erupted and your jaw dropped.

“stop trash talking me and join the game!”. hyein giggled and then game began. a few fans snuck there way into your game and tried to help you. mean while hyein was dancing with a chicken.

“you have been quiet for a while.. um..”

“hyein ! and I’m dancing with a chicken ! remind me of my own..”. it took you a second to digest everything the girl had said.

“I’m grinding my ass off and you’re dancing withs chicken?”. for the discord called you heard two shots.

“she pulled a gun on me.. how disrespectful ! chicky would never do that to me..”

“your chickens named.. chicky..”

“Im.. se-twenty I’m not that creative sorry !”. after a few more minutes your both got into a flow. hyein would be doing some thing weird like dancing with the whole avatar crew.

“kinda wish kora was here though-“. you hummed and then heard two guns go off.

“she killed everyone”. you burst out laughing while hyein held a funeral for the gang.

or even meet you face to face but not know because you changed your skin.

“ugh.. idk why people choose bright skins there just asking to be killed..”. hyein went off for a good ten minutes before someone donated to you telling her that was you and she burst out laughing. two hours in hyein was complaining about her work when the game started to come to an end.

“like why did this old as teacher yell at me for not knowing geometry ! like- girl I learned that two years ago calm down”

“so your 17..?”

“totally”. as soon as that word left hyein’s mouth her character evaporated into thin air.

“WHAT THE- omg what !”. you giggled as Hyein went off.

“unfair !”. you could here her pout through the screen so you tried to brighten her mood.

“hay is it ok if I get your number so we can play more..? everyone seems to love your yelling..!”. hyein scoffed, but you were right. you usually had 50-200k people watching but you broke your highest record and had 3million people watching.

“uh— sure give me a sec..”. as you tapped your fingers on your desk hyein ran to her phone on her bed. after texting her bestfriend wonhak thirty times with no response she sighed and went back to her chair.

hyein was a troubled teen. with mostly b’s and some c’s and a f in phys ed. so when she asked for a phone for her sixteenth birthday she got a fat no. but you were y/n y/l/n ! so when hyein got back on the call she gave the only number she knew.

“sorry but I have school tomorrow bye ! can’t wait to beat you later !”. you giggled as after hyein left you ended your stream too. but as hyein brushed her teeth and finally went to sleep at twelve you texted ‘her’ at 12:15. the thing was the only number hyein knew that wasn’t a parents or cousins was minji her favorite cousins bestfriend.

#kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop idol x reader #kpop imagines #kpopidol #kpop gg #kpop smau #kpop girls #reader x idol #reader insert

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sleepyconfusedpotato · 1 year

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🌹💀Cold Heart🌹💀

A Ghost x Jade Modern Warfare II story

Prologue : Hard Time

Inspired by Hard Time by Seinabo

“So… how much for a small bouquet of roses, Miss?” A teenager dressed in high school uniform stood in front of the displayed red colored flower of love, belonging to the Le Jardin floristry in London. His hands were tightly situated inside his trouser’s pockets, clearly shaking.

Jade smiled at the sight. His height was the same as hers, though she probably had a good decade on him. Immaculate hairstyle, not a single fold visible on his clothes, and blushing so hard his face was about to turn as red as her hair. The florist knew that this young boy’s most likely about to declare his love for his crush.

“A small bouquet would cost 15 quid, but for you, young lad,” she patted the boy’s shoulder softly, “12’s enough.”

The boy chimed in joy, “That’s great! I’ll take one, please.”

“I’ll wrap it up in white paper and plastic, tied with a ribbon for finishing. Does that work?” An aggressive nod from him made her smile ear to ear. “One bouquet coming right up!” Walking to the back of the shop to gather her best roses, Jade started to collect and the five roses in her hands, arranging the best flowers for the boy to confess with.

As she focused the task at hand, a ringtone of her phone interrupted her work. It was a different tune than her regular one, which could only mean one thing. When she fished out her device from her pocket, Jade immediately pressed the green icon upon seeing the name on the screen.

Putting the phone between her ear and shoulder, she continued her work, “Hi, Kate.”

“Hey, Jade. Always so cheerful.”

Jade could hear the smile from the CIA’s voice. Laswell had been a friend since her black agent days; a mentor figure of hers, leading her through lots of missions and assignments throughout the globe. Both women admired each other, and learned from each other a lot. If not for their affiliations, they’re sure they’d work together more.

“Been a long time since I heard your voice, Kate. What's up? Bit busy right now.” She said as her hands arranged the flowers in her palm.

“Sorry to disturb your work, but I need you.”

“Oh? Do you have a funeral? Wedding? Flower for your wife, perhaps? Are you visiting London? The weather sucks this time of year, though.”

“No. I need you, Jade.” Kate’s voice turned serious.

The emphasis on her codename told her what she needed to know, causing her to sigh on the phone, “…Laswell. Verdansk was my last assignment. You know I don't do this anymore–”

“Major Hassan Zyani of Iran is in possession of an American missile. We don't know where he got it from, or where the target is. What we know is that we eliminated his superior General Ghorbrani six months ago, and we think he wants retaliation.”

Laswell, always to the point. All that information though, caught Jade’s attention while she took out the white papers and transparent plastic around the roses. “…Continue.”

“We tried to apprehend him in Al Mazrah where we found the first missile, but he escaped and is now in Las Almas. We need your help to track him down, find the other missile, and dig up his plans with it.” the CIA continued.

“Las Almas? City of Souls, huh.” Taking the hanging ribbon from the wall, the florist started to wrap it around the base of the bouquet.

“Yes. Once you’re there, you will be united with Colonel Alejandro Vargas from the Mexican Special Forces. He's a local, so you'll get a lot of help from him. Sending the picture and files to you.”

Jade pulled the phone from her shoulder, looking at the images of the said soldier. “Oh, hello there.” Mexican Special Forces sounded cool as heck in her ears. He looked charming, she’d give him that. “Give me a few hours. I need to prepare my gears and contact MI6.”

“No need. I already notified MI6. You're free to go. Your wheels up in 3 hours.”

“Oh?”

“And one more thing. Ghost and Soap will join you.”

Jade halted her handiwork at the name drop. “...Ghost and Soap?”

“Yes. I believe you've acquainted yourselves in Verdansk. They're the ones who found the missile in Al Mazrah. They'll see things through.”

“...Huh.” She couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped her mouth.

“Any issues?” Laswell questioned from the other side.

“Not at all, Kate.” Jade tied the red ribbon on the front of the bouquet with finality. “Not at all.”

As the Brit finished her work, she took her handiwork into her arms, picking the phone from her shoulders. “Okay. I’ll be there."

“Sorry to disturb you again, Jade, but we could really use your help.” Laswell tried to explain herself, “You know I wouldn’t reach you if this wasn't a matter of emergency.”

“No problem at all, Kate. How can I ever say no to you, right? Oh Mrs. CIA.” A laugh from the other side made her chuckle. Tapping the red button on the phone, the florist put both of her palms on the table, staring at the roses she prepared.

Twenty years of service - she thought she’s done with this life, move on, live like a regular adult. Have a job, make a friend or two, get some food, have a family–

Well, she’s not lucky on that part yet, living basically all her life doing the dirty assignments and killing everyone MI6 saw as a threat, guilty or innocent. There was never any room for romance. She’s an adopted daughter of a couple MI6 retired black agents, whom she devoted her life to fill their shoes for. Now, all she wanted was a normal life, but of course, Laswell thought that her skills could do more good; keep the world safe, protect the people she loved, and that the world still needed her.

Jade scoffed before standing back up. She still had a boy in the front of her shop, waiting to confess to his crush. Sometimes she envied the people who come to her shop. They came in with events they want to celebrate, be it birthdays. weddings, anniversaries, funerals...

Love confessions.

She couldn’t help the smile on her face. “At least I can help the young lad.” And so, Jade walked to the frontside of the shop with the roses, finding the boy sitting on a chair, playing what seemed to be a mobile shooting game as his thumbs rapidly moved across the screen.

“Hey.” Jade called to him, making the boy flinch and close whatever game he’s playing. As he stood up, he saw the red and white bouquet on her hands, his eyes instantly glimmered with awe.

The woman stretched her arms to give her handiwork to him and fished out little colorful plastics containing sweets from the jar on the counter. “Here’s your bag of roses, and here’s some candy. Sugar will raise your confidence to the max. Good luck, Mate.” Jade said as she gave the bouquet and the candies to him.

“Thanks, Miss. I owe you lots.” The boy grinned.

“You’ll do well. Cease the moment!” Raising her fist in the air in front of her, he responded with a fistbump, before giving her the money and ran out of the florist, ready for his love declaration.

Looking at the clock on the wall, there’s still a few hours left until the shop closes, but considering the situation at hand, she walked to the door and flipped the hanged tag from 'open' to 'closed'.

Now, contacting her parents. Jade sighed as she scrolled her contacts list to find her father's number, because she knew how her parents felt about this. They wouldn't take this news well.

After a few beeps on the line, he picked up the call.

“Pa, Ma.”

“Hi, Lottie Dear! What’s up? Is the shop going well?” Her father, Eli's gentle yet stern voice rang through the phone.

“We’re just a few hours from London. Is something the matter, Love?” A feminine voice joined, which could only belong to her mother.

The two had been out of London for the week to pick up flowers from their private fields in Norfolk. Twenty years in business after their retirement – or, rather disappearances – from MI6, they thought having their own fields of flowers would be a great investment. Having their own farmers and land, it helped them with the continuity of their business.

Hearing their delightful voices, Jade's almost sorry to deliver them the news. “Yeah. Laswell called me again.”

The silence on the line told her that her parents were contemplating between themselves. Their daughter promised them that 2019 was her last mission. Now that the elder couple heard the CIA's name again, Jade needed to tell them what's going on.

"What's the situation?" Her father inquired, heaviness filling his voice.

“This Iranian Major has an American-made missile in his possession. He’s currently hiding in Las Almas. This’ll take probably a month or so.” Jade explained to her parents. “I won’t be alone, though. There are others with me this time. Wheels up in 3 hours.”

"Who will be with you?" Again, her father asked. This protective side of his had been a major character of his, even though Jade wouldn't complain about it at all.

Jade huffed, "Mexican Special Forces, and two operators of SAS, the ones I met three years ago back in Verdansk. There might be more, but that's all I know so far. Laswell will tell me more once I've packed my bags."

Silence lingered on the line, save for the faint sound of the car they're driving at the moment on the background. Jade knew that her parents were conversing without speaking, a trait she knew all too well.

Her mother, Gracie, clicked her tongue, "Do you really have to go?" Jade could hear reluctance in her voice. "You said you were done, Verdansk was your last assignment - you promised us, remember?"

Jade closed her eyes as she looked down at her arms, peppered with old scars from her days as a black agent, days she wanted to leave behind. However, as she reflected upon her phone call with Laswell earlier, it actually didn't take much for the CIA agent to convince her about joining in on this mission.

"And I'm sure I don't have to remind you about what happened 12 years ago, in Cuba." Eli said to her.

Well.

There's that.

One of the worst assignments that Jade had to take, and how it changed her life. A mission that even Laswell have no knowledge about.

"...Does it have to be you, Lottie Dear?"

That sentence from her mother made her stomach churn. She's her mother after all.

Jade couldn't say anything to that, other than the fact that Laswell wouldn't contact her in the first place if she had any other better name in mind. She didn't know too much about the mission yet to determine why Laswell had to call her, and saying the CIA's name once more wouldn't ease her parents' concern at the moment.

"...Yeah." she only mumbled lowly.

Silence still lingered. Either they would allow this, or she's going to have to go against her parents' wishes.

"It's a long time ago, more than a decade, Pa. I'm okay now, and I won't be alone, remember?" Jade said as her last attempt at reasoning with her parents. "I have some very strong and capable people covering my back, so don't be too worried, okay?"

Jade thought she had to do the latter, until her father spoke, “Alright, Love. Have a safe trip." Hearing her father's confirmation, Jade looked up straight in surprise. "Take your gears, it’s in my armory. The key’s in uhh…”

“In your Pa’s study. Lowest drawer. Take everything you need, including the ‘persuasion’ kits too, if you ever find yourself needing it.” Her mother’s voice interrupted. “Sharpen your blades, loosen your muscles, be vigilant, Dear.”

“And don’t worry about the shop. We’ll do fine.” Her father assured.

Jade scoffed at her parents’ voice. They’re the best parents she could ever ask for. “I know, Pa. Ma.”

“Good. Be careful, Lottie. We love you.”

“I love you both, too. See you.” After hanging up the call, Jade huffed in relief. Step one was completed. Now she didn't have to go to the mission carrying a heavy heart with her.

'Ghost and Soap will join you.'

Laswell’s voice lingered in her mind. She knew the latter is the youngest SAS personnel with exceptional abilities and potential, but the former, though?

He's a handful.

When they first met in Verdansk, the skull-faced SAS lieutenant was the most foul-mouthed man she’s ever met. Cursed like there’s no tomorrow and underestimated her to the point that she got her nickname, Midget. She’s not even that short! Jade’s just average UK woman’s height! Offended to the bone, she got back at him by calling Ghost Beanpole, even though she must admit, his physique was the furthest thing from a beanpole, but she’s nowhere near midget either (again, even though he’s got a good 1 foot on her).

Anyway, their meeting was unpleasant, as there were divisions and distrust amongst the Armistice in Verdansk. Their rivalries started, going from the fact that they both work alone, specialize in stealth, and seem to have a close personal relationship with their blades. Ghost and her had been an acquaintance and no more, save for the bastard-calling part.

Don’t get her wrong, Ghost was certainly not someone you’d want as an enemy. He would’ve been a great ally to fight alongside with, if and only if he’s a little bit more agreeable to the people around him. Jade wondered what else Ghost, Soap, and the new Mexican ally had in store for her in this mission.

But that’s for the future to think about. For now, she’s got a flight to catch.

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

There's the prologue for "Cold Heart"! This series will be updated kinda irregularly (I will try regularly tho. Probably around once a week/two week).

Hope you enjoyed that and stay tuned!

#This is my first series so puh-lease be gentle HNGHHH #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw #cod #cod mw22 #call of duty modern warfare 2022 #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #simon riley #charlotte jade le jardin #ghost x oc #ghost x jade #call of duty fic #cod fic

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tqmies · 2 years

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My Roommate Sucks! | Yuta.

Description. Your roommate was weird, but that’s normal. What’s not? The way his room is strictly off limits, the fact that he leaves at three in the morning, and keeps returning covered in blood. (Note: His suspicious hate for garlic)

Pairings. Yuta Nakamoto x Fem!Reader

Genre.Comedy, Romance, Horror Themes (Vampires)

Warnings. Dark content (Villain Yuta), Smut (Not in this part), Mentions of Death, Fear, Suggestive

Word count. 5.9K

Note: Another NCT fic?! Yup! Please enjoy this one in the spirit of Halloween! :D Feedback is appreciated!

YOU AND YUTA NAKAMOTO HAD BEEN RENTING THIS APARTMENT FOR THE PAST YEAR. Though you two weren’t particularly close, you knew a good amount about him. Enough to be absolutely certain he is a vampire.

Though this just prompts Kim Doyoung to just laugh in your face. Clutching his stomach as he leans over. He only stops when he realizes you are in fact, one hundred percent, serious.

“This isn’t funny! Stop laughing.” You stomp, looking away embarrassed.

“As concerned as I am for your safety,” He pauses to laugh. “I don’t think he’s a vampire.”

“Well explain this then!” You speak, shoving a paper diagram in his face. (Yes you made a diagram, you were quite passionate on the subject)

It reads as followed.

Reasons Why I Believe I Live With a BloodSucker:

1. He sneaks out at 3 am most days (He thinks I don’t know, but oh, I know)

2. He comes back with red stains everywhere!! (Feeding time)

3. He hates garlic!!

4. His room is always off limits. (He never even opens the door around me)

Doyoung bursts out laughing once again. “You can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious!”

“These all have explanations.”

“I’m listening.”

“Okay, Yuta is a nurse. He works in a hospital, that means he’s on call. He could be summoned to work at odd hours, like 3 am.”

You shake your head, not buying it for a second. He was always extremely secretive when he left. And he never took his hospital ID with him.

“That also explains the blood on him when he comes back, you don’t know what he deals with at work. Maybe it comes off his scrubs.” Doyoung continues, you remaining unconvinced. “And lots of people don’t like garlic.”

“Yeah but you know who hates it? Vampires!” You muse.

He rolls his eyes and hands your paper back to you. “His room being off limits is normal. I don’t exactly let Taeyong invade my room as he pleases. Maybe the dudes just private about his stuff.”

“But he’s so weird about it! And he comes into my room all the time to tell me dinners ready and stuff! Like that totally unfair.”

“Double standards.” Doyoung comments, attention now fully on some video playing on his phone. He always did that when you rambled.

“You’re no help.” You pout. “And now I’m just gonna die at the hands of my supernatural roommate! And you’re going to be at my funeral wishing you had listened to me!”

“If he wanted you dead, don’t you think he would’ve killed you already?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, you are super annoying.” He rolls his eyes. “I would’ve definitely drained you of all life by now.”

You roll your eyes at him, not amused. You don’t know why you expected Doyoung to make any sense anyways.

“What? It’s the only explanation.” He stops suddenly. “Unless he just thinks you’ll taste nasty.”

Scoffing, you turn to point a finger at him. “I think I’d taste great, thank you very much.”

“Wanna put that to the test?” Your other friend says as he rounds the corner, returning from the bathroom. Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at you.

“In your dreams.” Is your response, before beginning to poke fun at the male. “What took you so long, Jungwoo?”

“I was taking a shit.”

“Gross!” You say, scrunching up your nose. You had suspicions but you’d never expect him to admit it. Though, he was never one to think before he speaks anyways.

“It’s a natural part of the human body!” He defends, looking at you like you’re the crazy one.

“At least you got to miss another conspiracy.” Doyoung says, nodding towards you.

This was quite a natural occurrence from you. You shudder at the thought of being convinced that this one cafe worker was a zombie. In your defense, he was sickly pale looking, and he did have a thing for Jungwoo. Which definitely meant he had no taste. He had to be undead to like Kim Jungwoo that much.

“What is it this time? You saw Bigfoot or something?”

“No-”

“Apparently Yuta’s a vampire.” Doyoung states, cutting you off.

You stare at him, “Doyoung! You can’t just tell everyone! What if he finds out I’m onto him?”

“So you really think he’s a vampire?!”

“I think its a possibility!”

“Really?” Jungwoo quirks a brow. “Well then hes going to be so confused when you’re the one doing the sucking.”

Launching a pillow at him, you gag. The boys always insinuated you and Yuta had more going on. Though everything was literally as it seemed. It was a purely platonic roommate relationship. Barely ever speaking more than just discussing the bills or that rent had gone up. There was nothing there.

Before Jungwoo can open his big mouth again, you can faintly hear the sound of keys unlocking the door. Signaling that this conversation was now over, shushing them to your room. You quickly grab the paper from earlier and crumple it in your pocket.

“Hey,” Yuta says as he walks into the living room. “I was going to ask if you were hungry. Wanted to order some food.”

You nod your head in understanding, though you decline his offer. “Jungwoo and Doyoung are over, we were gonna go eat together.”

“Oh they’re here?” He asks, not having seen any sign of them.

“Yeah, they’re in my room.”

“Oh okay, well if you need to be picked up or anything, you can call me.”

“Thank you,” You say. About to turn when you start to feel guilty. You seemed to always bail on Yuta like this lately. Usually always heading out to meet the boys when he gets home. It wasn’t on purpose, it just had been busy.

And the boys were always a much needed relief from a day of your boss yelling at you over a printer that you couldn’t fix.

You had became close with Doyoung during your school years, you two worked at the library. Being around the same age, you two bonded instantly. Talking about books and such until your hangouts gradually began to happen outside of the library as well. You two had met Jungwoo at a cafe. He was always talking about the latest work gossip and how badly he hated his job. From there, you all just started meeting at the cafe to hangout. Eventually growing into the inseparable friendship you had now.

But Yuta didn’t seem to really have anyone like that. Opting to spend a good chunk of his time alone at the house when you were out. He had friends over a few times, but you’ve never seen one more than once. Except Mark, the only boy who would ever acknowledge you when he came over. But you hadn't seen even him in a while. Yuta must be really busy.

“Would you maybe wanna join us?” You turn around. “I know work was long and such, so if you just want to stay home, no offense taken.”

“I don’t want to intrude.” He smiles, you understand the feeling but nonetheless, the boys wouldn't mind him at all.

“You’re not,” You shake your head. “I promise we’d all love to have you.”

He thinks for a minute, looking down to the floor. And you won’t be surprised if he completely rejects your offer. “Okay, let me go get me coat then.” He agrees, heading towards his room, leaving you in shock. That was new.

Rushing to your room, you tell the boys of Yuta joining you at dinner.

“Yay! Now we can we expand our open relationship.” Jungwoo laughs, wiggling his eyebrows at Doyoung.

“We are not dating, Jungwoo!” Doyoung groans, smacking his palm to his forehead.

Jungwoo always joked about all of you being a throuple, and you’re still not even sure what the origin of the joke was. As far as you knew, none of you had ever been interested in each other. It still didn’t stop him though.

He’s even told a few waiters who pried too far, watching their reactions hilariously. And you had to admit, it was kind of funny at times.

Especially when this creep was hitting on you at a club, and suddenly, you had two boyfriends who were willing to beat his ass.

“None of that nonsense tonight,” Rolling your eyes. “I don’t need Yuta telling his hot friends that I’m stuck in a relationship.”

“His vampire friends?”

“Shut the hell up.”

“Oh so when we bring it up, its weird?”

You shoot them both a death stare, “Mention my theory to Yuta and I’ll cut your balls clean off.”

“Yeah but to do that you’d have to look at my dick! And trust me, once you see it-” Jungwoo starts but is interrupted as you start fake strangling him, straddling him on your bed.

“Stop! He probably likes it!” Doyoung laughs, eyes growing big. And Jungwoo, being the little freak he was, probably did. You put nothing past him.

“Would it kill you to be quiet for once!” You speak to the boy beneath you, “You’re so annoying!”

Jungwoo, rolls his eyes, then starts loudly fake moaning. This only feeds into you and Doyoungs theory of him being the freakiest little male alive.

Then, as if on cue, Yuta enters your room. Looking taken aback at the scene before him, he hurries to head back out, closing the door. “Oh sorry, the door was open so I thought-”

You frantically get off Jungwoo, completely embarrassed that Yuta saw you like this. Doyoung just sits stiffly, hoping to be spared the embarrassment.

“No no, we weren’t doing anything!” You say, opening the door. Waving your hands and laughing awkwardly. Hoping he didn’t see too much.

“Yeah it’s not what it looks like.” Doyoung says, hoping to ease the tension.

Yuta laughs, about to drop the conversation when Jungwoo speaks up. “Yeah I definitely wasn’t humping your roommate while Doyoung watched.”

You wish you could sew a zipper onto his mouth.

“Jungwoo!”

Though Yuta takes it as a joke, chuckling lightly, “We should head out.”

As you all get up you make sure to slap Jungwoo on the arm, making him wince in pain. Pouting and acting like it wasn’t well deserved.

You all decide to take Doyoung’s car, and he insists that Jungwoo sits in the passengers side. Leaving you and Yuta snug in the back of the tiny car. Which is fine, its not like you mind anyways. He just stares out the window the whole time anyways, barely saying anything.

The car ride is actually mostly quiet, which is unusual for your friends. Because both of them feel too embarrassed (Doyoung) and unsure (Jungwoo) to say anything.

You all had settled on eating dumplings before hand, prompting you to the best dumpling spot in town, which was a hole-in-the-wall place. Yuta looks unaffected by your choice though, following behind the three of you.

You silently hope for this incredibly awkward energy to dissipate. You all had taken your seats in silence, your two friends pretending to be engrossed with the menu choices, as if you hadn't been here a million times before.

You and Yuta sit next to each other, Jungwoo across from you and Doyoung next to him. But no one says a word to anyone else at the table.

You realize maybe you should have asked them if it was okay to invite Yuta, you figured it wouldn’t be an issue, but they had barely ever talked to him before. Every time they were over, you would all just stay holed up in your room, and Yuta never went out of his way to talk to them either. This would be their first real time hanging out together.

You shuffle in your seat, thinking of something to say to break the silence.

But Jungwoo beats you to it.

“So Yuta, do you know what you want to order?” He asks, and you’re unsure where he’s going with it. “They have amazing chicken and garlic dumplings.”

“Ah,” Yuta starts. “Sound great but I don’t like garlic.”

You widen your eyes at Jungwoo, pleading with him silently to stop. Was he going to do this right now? Doyoung notices your expression, and promptly pinches the male beside him.

“Ouch!” Jungwoo exclaims, rubbing his arm. “What was that for?”

“What was what for?” Doyoung asks, playing dumb. Yuta looks between the two of them, genuinely confused.

“You idiot, you pinched me!”

“Quit whining!” You speak up. “Hurry up and figure out what you want to drink! We’re not going to wait here for ten minutes like we did last time.”

Jungwoo narrows his eyes at that, “You’re both bullies.”

The waitress comes and takes your orders swiftly, taking the menus and leaving you four to your own devices.

“So,” Yuta begins, and nothing could prepare you for what he said next. “How long have you all been dating?”

Your heart stops for a second, turning to face him in disbelief. “D-dating?”

“For six months,” Jungwoo winks, not missing a beat. “Her and Doyoung were dating first actually-”

“No! We weren’t, he’s lying.” Doyoung interjects sternly, rolling his eyes.

“Okay I lied, actually Doyoung and I were dating first and then-”

It’s you who cuts him off this time. “None of us are dating, Jungwoo just likes to lie to new people. It’s his thing, he likes to see how far he can get with it.”

Yuta looks confused at the prospect. “Wait so you’re not in a poly relationship?”

“No.” You confirm. “Doyoung can’t take a hint and Jungwoo is a slut who can’t commit. I could never date them, it’d never work out.”

Jungwoo’s jaw drops at the statement, “Me?”

And Doyoung’s eyes widen as well, “That’s not true!”

Yuta finds it all amusing as he hides his laughter in his drink. “Sorry, I overheard Jungwoo one day and just assumed it was true.”

You cringe at the thought, “Jungwoo just likes to say shit.”

“You’re right.” Jungwoo explains, looking over at the other male beside him. “Plus, Doyoung has a stick up his ass anyways, he couldn’t handle us.”

“Yeah okay, fuck you too.”

You all laugh at his comment and you’re all reeled into other conversations. The tension that had remained before being eased, no longer feeling an air of uncomfortably here. You just feel into a rhythm with each other, and you regret that this was the first time you’ve all hung out with Yuta, and you hope it happens again.

The dumplings arrive and you all get to work, you hadn’t even realized how hungry you were, so you attention is drawn solely to your food. Failing to see how Yuta barely eats anything, consistently scooping and putting down his spoon to create the illusion of it.

But then again, you fail to notice.

So do Jungwoo and Doyoung, who are pretty drunk already. Doyoung ranting on about this hot girl at the office who he swears like to tease him. Jungwoo replying to say that Doyoung just has no game, prompting another bickering session between them. You laugh on, pouring you all more alcohol from the bottle sitting on your table. The boys pausing their argument to ask for more.

You all don’t even register how much you’re drinking, the liquid so smooth it goes down almost like water. And the effects barely catching up to you.

You offer Yuta some and he declines, saying someone needed to drive you all home. You nod and thank him, how generous and kind of him, so sweet.

It get’s late pretty quickly, and Doyoung suggests you all head back to your place, you just agree, ready to climb into your warm bed with lots of water.

It’s not uncommon for the guys to stay the night, they’ve grown accustom to sleeping on your floor and on the tiny chair in your room, it just worked.

So Yuta drives you all home, stone cold sober and completely aware he was driving around three trashed people in a car that wasn’t even his at midnight. He prayed he didn’t get pulled over.

You’re all able to make it up to your apartment room, Doyoung and Jungwoo hanging off of each other for stability, you being sober enough to stand upright.

They make a beeline for your room as you enter, you stopping in the kitchen to grab some hangover medicine and bottles of water.

Yuta stands in the kitchen with you, he found it sweet how much you cared for your friends. It was endearing how you always thought of them too.

“Thanks for tonight Yuta, we had fun.”

“I can tell.” He laughs, raising his eyebrows at you.

You just sleepily nod and head to your room, closing the door behind you.

You’re awoken by a throbbing headache, and Jungwoo’s leg strewn over you. How did he even get on the bed? You were sure he was on the floor. But those thoughts are derailed as you feel Doyoung laying sideways at the end of your bed. His light snores indicating he’s still fast asleep. You sigh.

The last thing you want to do is get up, but as you reach for your phone and see the time, you realize you’ve wasted most of your day. So you contemplate continuing to stay in bed or getting up and trying to make the most of the rest of your Saturday. The latter wins, as you achingly remove the sheets off your body.

Jungwoo stirs from beside you and groans, which wakes Doyoung as he nearly falls off the bed. Jungwoo steadily fights to open his eyes, clearly hungover.

Standing to stretch, you look at the two boys. “You guys look like shit.”

Doyoung laughs, “Right back at you.”

“Should’ve taken the Advil like I said.” You laugh and go to start the shower in your room, glad that you don’t have to step out into the apartment in this state.

That’s when the boys fumble behind you. Doyoung begrudgingly asks for his keys while Jungwoo hangs off his shoulder, and you shrug. You had no idea what Yuta did with them when you guys got back.

“Go knock on his door.” Jungwoo insists, “I want to get home, I need a shower.”

You roll your eyes as you head out of your room, slowly approaching Yuta’s You knock on the door. Once. Twice. No response. “Yuta! Are you home?”

And you’re met with silence, he must’ve gone to work, his schedule was pretty unpredictable. But its odd, hes usually here in the morning. Well, maybe he had to trade shifts and he’ll back tonight.

Though this leaves you with a problem, you have no idea where your friends keys are. And if Yuta’s at work, he won’t be anywhere near his phone.

Heading back into your room, you stand at the door. “He’s not here.”

“Call him?”

“I can.” You answer. Though, as expected, you go straight to voicemail.

Doyoung groans, “I’ll look around for the keys, maybe he left them on the counter or something.”

You wave him off. That’s when you think, Yuta probably just left them in his room. Maybe on his desk? But you can’t go into his room. No, he’d hate that.

Is this an invasion of privacy? You think as you stand outside of his door. Truth be told, you were very curious, and Doyoung’s keys sounded like a good excuse to trespass into his room. But Yuta’s always been awkward about his room, and you respected his wishes. Figuring maybe he had something embarrassing in there, you look down.

You twist the doorknob, and you’re met with a dark room. You can hardly see anything, as the blinds are shut and the lights off. You move to turn the lights on, annoyed with the sight before you.

It was a completely normal room.

Similar layout to yours, a desk and a chair with a plush full bed in the corner. Nothing was off about the scene before you, and you find that weird.

But then it hits you.

The smell.

It smelled horrible, almost like a dead animal. And sure, you knew men were filthy, but it smelled like something was straight up rotting in there.

You gag at the stench, clasping your nose to revert the smell away. Moving to enter his room, you notice Doyoung’s keys on the desk. He had likely just thrown them there when he entered and forget they weren’t his.

You quickly grab them, shut off the lights, and click the door behind you.

As you stand in the hallway, you notice something weird.

The room was clean, the bed was made, and everything was neat. It was as if no one lived in there, like no one had slept in that bed in years.

Also, if it was so clean, why did it stink so bad?

You had to write this down on your diagram, where was it anyways?

You’re derailed from finding it as Doyoung finds you, grabbing the keys from your hands. “Wanna meet up later? After my nap?”

And you consider it, but you’ve had enough of the boys for a bit, so you shake your head. “I’m tired, probably gonna just chill here.”

Doyoung nods in understanding, before putting on a teasing smile. “Sure you wanna stay in all day with the vampire?”

You narrow your eyes, “He’ll probably sleep all day, work’s tiring.”

“Fair enough.”

And with protest of Jungwoo, Doyoung exits the house with the younger in tow. Complaining about how you can’t hang and that he hopes Yuta sucks your blood. You sigh, they would never believe you.

And you doubt yourself too, somewhat. But the puzzle pieces are all fitting together suspiciously well. Anyways, you’re just glad you’re alone and that you get to shower peacefully now.

And it was definitely what you needed, seeing as you’re sure Jungwoo drooled in your hair, but that was a matter for another time.

Realizing you had yet to eat, you head straight to the kitchen, ready to make yourself something good. (Knowing you’d just probably settle for one of the ramen packets in the pantry.)

Though when you arrive, you’re startled to see Yuta, drinking a glass of water.

“Hey,” You speak up. “I didn’t hear you come in. Or leave this morning..”

“Yeah, they called me last night actually. I was going to tell you, but you were knocked out, and I didn’t want to wake your friends.” He explains.

So it was exactly like you had thought, but this meant he would be home for the rest of the day. Just lazing around the house, with you. Alone.

“I invited some friends over,” He speaks. Oh? That was kind of unusual. “I hope its not a big deal.”

“What? No, wouldn’t it be hypocritical of me to be mad when Doyoung and Jungwoo practically live here?” You laugh.

“Speaking of them,” He interjects, “Did they get home okay?”

The color drains from your face as you remember earlier. He was onto you. He knew, he definitely knew you went into his room. And he would not be happy.

“Uh yeah, Doyoung’s keys were on the counter so he just took them and left.” You lie, hoping he didn’t suspect you.

And he didn’t seem any the wiser, simply nodding at your statement. He likely didn’t even remember where he left them anyways, as he went straight to work. You hope he was too distracted to recall that where he’d left them.

“Cool,” He places his cup in the sink. “I’m going to nap, but wake me when they get here?”

You agree and he heads to his room, not sparing you a second glance. You release a breath, glad you didn’t give away that you broke his most important room mate rule. Anyways, now was definitely the time for ramen.

You hadn't even realized how much time had passed since you started watching this show. You spent three hours watching Netflix after devouring your bowl and nursing your favorite juice. You were only awaken from your trance when there was a knock on your apartment door, likely Yuta’s friends.

After jumping off the couch and scrambling to your feet, you go to open the door. Surprised (but not really) to see two unfamiliar faces looking back at you.

One is slender and has soft black eyeliner around his eyes, cute. The taller of the two is more innocent looking, though his smile and good looks tells you he’s likely troublesome.

You open your mouth to speak but the cute one beats you to it.

“Is Yuta here?”

“He’s asleep.”

“Well, wake him.” The taller remarks, and you want to hold you breath and hope you die.

You weren’t too good with men in general, but teasingly rude ones? Yeah these definitely weren’t your type of guys.

You just stutter, feet planted to the floor. “Y-yeah I’ll go-”

The smaller one speaks up, “Don’t mind Jaehyun, he’s moody, hasn't eaten.”

You just nod, smiling awkwardly. The nice thing to do would be to offer to cook, but these were Yuta’s friends and not yours. He’d just have to do it.

“I’m Taeyong, a friend of Yuta’s.” He extends his hand for you to shake, and you do gladly. “The asshole’s name is Jaehyun.” And the other groans.

“I’m not an asshole.”

The two begin bickering but Jaehyun’s soon cut off by Taeyong, “Anyways, Yuta didn’t tell us he had such a pretty girlfriend.”

You want to sink into the ground beneath you, shaking your hands, you deny. “Oh no, we just live together.”

“Just live together? You’re not friends?” Jaehyun interrogates.

“Uh..” You trail, not knowing how to respond. Were you guys considered friends? You just decide to change the subject. “Why don’t you guys come in? I’ll go wake Yuta.”

You close the door behind them and show them to the living room, then heading to the hallway where your rooms are located. Stopping in front of Yuta’s door, you knock. No response. So you knock again, to no avail.

“Your friends are here, Yuta!” You yell, and you hear movement in his room.

After a shuffle, you see him pull his door open, just enough for him to slip through and close it behind him. So suspicious, like he was hiding something in there, even though you had known better.

You shrug it off, “I’ll be in my room.”

“Okay.” He says, used to you keeping to yourself, nothing out of the ordinary.

Turning to head to your room, you’re held back by another voice. “Going to hide?” It’s Jaehyun, appearing in the hallway as he leans against the wall. “Don’t wanna hang around us?

You don’t know what to say, caught off guard by his question.

Good thing Yuta answers for you. “Leave her alone.”

“My bad, didn’t realize she was an exception.”

What was that supposed to mean?

Yuta just looks at you, “Sorry about him.”

You wave him off, “Its okay! You know what? I think I’m going over to Doyoung’s! He asked me to swing by.” Uttering the most convincing excuse you could come up with, but Yuta nods.

“Alright, be safe.”

You just thank him and run to get a sweater and a pair of shoes from your room. Ready to be free of the suffocating atmosphere of this apartment.

You pass Jaehyun on the way out, still in the hallway and he shoots you a look, one that you can’t decipher. But you weren’t going to stick around and find out what it meant anyways.

Taeyong bids you goodbye as you head out, telling you he’d like to visit again.

You wonder if he’ll actually make good on that promise.

Once you’ve made it to your car, you pull your phone and begin rapidly typing for Doyoung’s number.

He picks up on the first ring.

“Hello?”

“Doyoung! I’m coming over!”

“Now?

“Yes! Now!”

“But I thought-”

“Yeah that was before Yuta’s friends came over.”

And the other side of the line is silent, Doyoung understanding what you meant. “I’ll order food, but you’re paying when it gets here.”

“Understood.” And you hear the fade out of the call.

Of course this had to happen on what was supposed to be a relaxing Saturday in. You just sigh and start your car, eager to be away from the three men currently in your apartment.

To your surprise, Jungwoo’s already over when you arrive. He said Doyoung called saying something was wrong and you roll your eyes.

“Doyoung’s being dramatic, I just didn’t wanna stay in there with Yuta and some strangers.”

Jungwoo nods in understanding. “Were they hot?”

You whip your head around to face him, “Are you serious?”

He places his hands up in defeat. “Okay okay, sorry.”

You just laugh as you enter Doyoung’s kitchen, digging through the cabinet for a snack. Jungwoo reaching over you to grab a cup form the cupboard.

“You two are just leeches.” Doyoung says, coming to check what the commotion was.

“Yup, that’s me.” You agree, and he chuckles in response.

“Are you staying the night?” He nudges.

“No, I better go home.” And he nods. “

“As long as you take Jungwoo with you.”

“Hell no.”

“Hey! What’s wrong with me?!”

“Do you really want us to answer that?”

And as the kitchen erupts in laughter, you wish you could save this moment forever. They really were you best friends, always dependable and always here for you. You’d be lost without them.

These thoughts re-enter your mind as the subpar movie you were all currently watching rolls the end credits. You’re running your hands through Doyoung’s hair as he lays on your lap, Jungwoo fast asleep as he leans on his side.

All these two did was sleep, you think. Moving to check the time, you realize it’s gotten kind of late. You decide to head home, the comfort of your bed being more tempting that your friends couch.

Helping him up, he groans at being moved. But still see’s you out to his door. “I’m going to dump water on Jungwoo’s head and make him go home.”

“Sure.” You giggle sarcastically.

“Have a safe trip home.”

“Thank you.”

Unlocking the door to your house, you’re met with silence as you open it.

“Yuta?” You call out, but are given no response. He must’ve went out with the other two. You shrug your shoulders.

Walking through the hall, you step into the living room to see Yuta.

He’s just standing there, like he was anticipating your arrival.

“Oh hey,” You speak, somewhat off. “Did the guys go home?”

“I know,” He interrupts, your blood running cold. He’s dead serious too, which wipes the previous smile off your face.

“What?”

“I know what you think I am.”

You’re ready to deny it, to try and smooth things over. To say that he’s got it all wrong, whatever he’s thinking. You struggle to find the words though.

Until he pulls a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket. “Found this under the couch.”

You recognized it instantly, your diagram.

You wave your hands, “Oh no no, that was a joke! I don’t actually think that.”

Why did you have to do that? You went and ruined a perfectly good living situation with a guy who was respectful and clean. Now he was probably going to throw you out, creeped out by your observations and theories of him.

He probably hated you now, for thinking something so vile of him. He probably thought you were stupid too, who would think that?

You’re about to spill out a string of apologies when he motions for you to be quiet.

“Well,” He says, taking a seat on the couch. “You figured it out.”

And you feel your jaw go slack.

What did he mean?

He just laughs at your speechless form, “You’re smarter than I thought, the others never caught on.”

And you’re completely confused. “O-others?”

“Did you ever wonder why I was looking for a room mate?” And he continues when you don’t respond. “Cause I killed the previous one.”

You want to throw up.

“And the one before that, and the one before that.” He continues, as if its all just one big joke. And you hope it is. Maybe he was just messing with you? Because there was no way. No way, right?

Yuta? The Yuta right in front of you, was a vampire? A real, living vampire?

“What a shame though, I was going to keep you. Until I found out you were snooping in my room. Just as I thought we were becoming friends too.” He laughs out, but not his normal one, no this one is laced with some kind of evil.

How had he found out? He had remembered where he left the keys then.

“I’ve had to stop all my friends from feeding on you,” He speaks, you backing up into the corner. “Jaehyun and Taeyong are the oldest of us, and they came demanding to know why you weren’t dead yet. That’s why they called you the exception.”

So he was looking out for you? What was he going to do to you now?

Were you going to die? Fear washes over your body at that, trying to figure out if you could make it out the front door before Yuta could catch you. You deduced that you probably couldn’t, but you should try anyways.

“Nothing to say?” Yuta asks.

And your attention is drawn back to him, “I..”

“Tell me,” He inquires. “How hard do you think it was to hold back from killing your friends? Knowing they were touching what I claimed. Made me look like an idiot when everyone else could smell them on you. Vampires have a keen sense of smell too, you know?”

Your back hits the wall as he stands up. Why was he telling you this? If he was going to kill you, why was he wasting so much time?

But after registering his words, you knew you couldn’t let him touch your friends. They didn’t deserve any of that.

“Please don’t do anything to them,” You beg. “Please.”

He scoffs, “Here you are, about to die at the hands of a supernatural being, and all you’re worried about is Doyoung and Jungwoo.”

You look around nervously, “I’m going to die?” You confirm.

“Not really.”

“What?” You let out meekly, as he approaches you closer.

“I’m going to turn you.”

“No!” You shout. You couldn’t, there’s no way you could live life that way. Much less an eternal life, you’d rather die, here and now.

You’re barely able to protest before he sinks his teeth into your neck, your breath stilling. You hoped maybe he would miscalculate, that maybe he would just accidentally kill you instead.

All you can do is stand there and wince in pain as he draws blood from you. At this point, you’re hoping to be dead.

You don’t want to know what turning into a vampire entails.

But it looks like you were going to find out.

#yuta #yuta fanfic #doyoung #nct yuta #doyoung fanfic #yuta smut #nct #nct fanfic #jungwoo #yuta nct #yuta nct fanfic #yuta nakamoto #nct halloween #nct yuta nakamoto #jungwoo nct #doyoung nct #yuta imagines #yuta imagine

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writingonleaves · 4 months

Text

bundles of flowers (we'll wade through the hours of cold) - brock boeser

pairing: brock boeser x original female character

warnings: literally nothing, lots of fluff, flower research i did two years ago, not proofread

title: “promise" by ben howard

word count: 2.7k

author’s note: dug up a creative writing piece i wrote two years ago for a class and tweaked it a bit to create this. happy holidays to all. hope you all enjoy <3

*****

It’s a routine.

When Amber Chen was a young girl, she spent most days after school at Petals Lab & Design, zooming through the front door into her father’s waiting arms, chattering about the meal she had whipped up in the play kitchen at Kindergarten that day. Customers would fawn at her pigtails as she hid shyly behind her father or skipped behind the counter and hoisted herself up on a stool, munching on apple slices her mother had cut.

During her high school days, she would be sure to lock her car twice, twirling her keys around her pointer finger as she walked in. She’d drop her backpack, placing her iced green tea in the center of the counter. If the shop was filled with customers, she’d go into the back room and check the whiteboard filled with her father’s scrawl. If the shop was empty, she’d lean her head on her chin while listening as her parents rattled on about shipments or what was going to for dinner that night. On Mondays and Fridays, it was just her and Xavier or Willow in the shop. On those afternoons, she blasted the music a little louder, swayed her hips a little bolder and dragged whichever poor soul was working that day into a dramatic dance that always left both of them laughing.

Once Amber went to college, she still found herself coming in every other Sunday to help out, with a sample of whatever baked good she had made that week, an iced green tea, a hot black coffee and a cappuccino. Her mother would always roll her eyes, before reaching for a cookie or cupcake or brownie, chewing it thoughtfully for a couple of seconds and scrunching up her nose.

“This is too sweet,” she’d say, or, “Too much chocolate.”

Her father would then wander out, taking a small sip of his coffee first before placing a gentle kiss in her hair.

“Missed you. How are classes?” Before she could answer, he would always get distracted by something else, whether it be a customer, a phone call or the sudden epiphany of remembering something he had to do hours ago.

Amber knows that a bouquet of lilies was always acceptable for a funeral or that corsages cost $30 on average, and that yes, they can find a flower color to match the dress. She could rattle off cost estimation for bouquets by the time she was 13. She even finds herself from time to time sitting across from couples at a table tucked in the back corner of their shop, pulling out wrinkled papers to consult them about the floral arrangements for their wedding.

One hot morning in July, she’s left completely alone to open the shop. Her parents are helping with preparations at a large wedding. She had decided to play one of her favorite playlists over the speakers, soft guitar plucking and the honey-like voice of John Mayer accompanying the routine of putting out the flowers that had arrived that morning. The music’s louder than usual, as people usually flock in about an hour after opening.

But this time, the bell rings after two songs, and she looks up to see a guy around her age, gray hoodie over his blonde hair, black vans covering his feet. The neutral color scheme of his outfit heavily contrasts the bright colors of the flowers around him. He has a calm aura about him, hunched shoulders as if he’s trying to make himself smaller to fit into the shop. She shoots him a tired smile before going back to stocking the bouquets of roses. She waits until the end of the song to speak up, finding him glancing at the orchids.

“Anything I can help you with today?”

He looks up, “Uh, not at the moment.” His hand reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. “My mom’s birthday is today, and I’m a jackass who is getting her something right before she wakes up.”

“Well, orchids are always a solid choice.” Amber backs away with a small nod. “Let me know if you need anything.” He hums in thanks, and she walks back to the register.

She pulls out her laptop and looks over the materials her eventual boss sent her to read before her first day of work in a month, singing along to “Daughters” under her breath, ears alert for the tinkling of the bell at the front door.

She looks up to see the guy shuffling to the counter, and closes her laptop. He clears his throat, eyes bright and smile contagious. “Do you happen to do custom bouquets?”

“We do.” Amber walks from behind the counter and leads him to their lab, eyes going to the multitudes of flowers and brain already spinning with ideas. “Tell me about your mom. What’s your relationship with her like?”

He blinks. “Good. She’s literally always smiling. Has never yelled at me once. She’s the strongest woman I know.” He trails off as she gathers a couple of various stems. “That all you need?”

“Well, let’s see.” She points at each flower as she describes them. “Gerbera Daisies represent happiness, pink carnations represent gratitude and peonies represent prosperity and good health. Pair all that with some baby’s breath and you got a beautiful bouquet right there.” She raises an eyebrow. “Ultimately though, it’s your gift. I can do whatever you’d like.”

“No,” he shakes his head with a nervous chuckle. “It’s perfect. Go ahead.”

She flashes him a grin before methodically cutting the stems of the flowers, arranging them into a lively arrangement of colors and wrapping it all together with tissue paper and a ribbon to match.

He pays for the bouquet at the register, and when she comes around the counter to hand it to him, he thanks her before ducking his head down and walking back out into the muggy Saturday morning air. She blinks as she watches him get into his car, but shakes her head to herself as the phone starts ringing.

A few weeks later, Amber finds herself waking up to a frantic call from her mother, asking if she can meet up at Camrose Hill for a wedding. Her father has to deal with a shipping miscommunication back at the store, and she needs one more helping hand. When Amber arrives, she steps out, travel mug filled with tea in her right hand and her left hand smoothing down her red floral dress. After asking around, she finds her mother next to carts filled with roses in various colors. With a quick hug, Amber gets to work on building the arch, the light breeze making her regret not putting her hair up.

“Funny seeing you here.”

She looks up and blinks twice, standing up from her crouched position.

“Good morning.” She eyes him up and down, admiring his white button up and black dress pants.

“You here for the wedding?”

“I’m the Best Man, actually.” He chuckles, shoving his hand in his pockets. “My best friend’s getting married.”

“Congratulations,” she says softly, climbing onto a nearby chair to reach the top of the arch. “Beautiful place to do it too.”

He nods, eyebrows furrowing as she stumbles slightly in her heeled sandals. “Do you need help?”

“Absolutely not. You’re a guest. You shouldn’t even be out here right now.” He eyes her warily when she attempts to reach down to grab some roses off the cart, hands automatically going up as she almost falls over. She sighs, “Fine. Grab me five ivory ones and three pink ones, please. And the scissors.”

“So, what do they mean?”

“Hm?”

“The roses. What do they mean?”

She glances at him as she intertwines the stems together, wiggling her fingers at him for more flowers. “They’re roses. Roses are pretty typical for a wedding, generally symbolizing love. I’m sure you know that.”

“How about the colors?”

“Your friend’s soon to be wife chose ivory instead of white, and ivory usually means gracefulness. Peach roses are usually given as a thank you gift, so gratitude and sincerity is tied to that one. I’ll admit that green roses are more rarer in weddings, but it means growth, so perhaps the start of growing together as a married couple?” She shrugs. “Or maybe she just likes the color combination.”

“Knowing Stacy? It was probably very methodical.”

Amber laughs airily, before sticking her hand out. “Help me down? I need to move the chair to the other side.”

Before he can respond, someone from inside the tent calls his name. He helps her down quickly, before running his hand through his hair.

She hums. Brock. It fits. “So that’s your name.”

“Can I get yours?” He asks hopefully.

His name is called again and Amber shrugs with a sly grin. “Another time. Think you’re needed, Best Man.”

With a slight huff, he backs away with a wave. Her attention goes back to her fingers as she threads the flowers into the white arch, listening to the chatter of the other employees preparing. She’s out of the venue before the guests have even started arriving.

The summer always brings in tourists from all over, many itching to take a peek at a shop that has a rainbow of flowers outside of its doors. Balancing her new job at a PR firm, she pops in to help her parents, fingers slowly getting scars and cheekbones beginning to hurt daily.

On a day where the sun is shining bright and the shop is in a lull during lunch hour, Brock walks in. His smile is wide as he makes small talk with her mother across the shop. Amber freezes when she sees both sets of eyes on her, and swallows her tea as he walks over.

“Hi again.”

“I came in yesterday looking for you,” he said. “Your parents told me to come back today.”

“Looking for me?”

“Yeah.”

“Did they tell you my name?”

“Amber.” Fuck, her name rolls off his tongue so sweetly.

“That’s what they call me.”

“Beautiful name for a stunning girl.”

She snorts, “What can I do for you?”

He grins slightly at her professional tone. “My mom was complaining about how her place isn’t homey enough, so I figured I’d come to my favorite flower shop and talk to the experts about how to fix that.”

“My parents could’ve helped you with that.”

“I know, but I wanted your opinion.”

She moves from behind the counter, lips lifting into a smile as he immediately follows her. “If you want just a bouquet, you can never go wrong with sunflowers. And judging from your sporadically timed visits, you’re probably not around town much, so it wouldn’t be wise to get a plant that you would actually have to take care of. Unless that’s what your mother wants.”

“How do you-”

She stops in front of the sunflowers, ignoring his question. “We got a fresh delivery this morning. If you don’t like these, there are plenty of orchids I’d suggest as well.”

“I’ll take the sunflowers. What’s the special meaning of these?”

“Exactly what they look like. They bring happiness into people’s day.”

“That they do.” She feels her cheeks flush from his stare.

She quickly rings him up and bids him farewell as he walks out the door, smiling to her parents along the way. They both turn their heads to look at her as soon as the door shuts, and she rolls her eyes before venturing into the back room, ignoring the shout of questions and comments.

Winter rolls around quickly. Every time someone has purchased sunflowers these past couple of months, she can’t help but think of Brock; the last image of him imprinted in her brain was him walking out the door with sunflowers in his hand. That was four months ago.

Since then, Amber’s figured out who he is. Brock Boeser. Vancouver Canucks. Minnesota’s very own. She’s spent many nights with a few glasses of wine deep thinking too much about it.

She’s outside the shop one day after a long day of work, on top of a ladder, gloved fingers fumbling around with the string of lights. Her cheeks are rosy, snowflakes are sticking to her hair and she’s been yawning every five minutes for the last hour, but she’s determined to get these lights up before she locks up in 15 minutes. The poinsettias, mistletoe and holly are scheduled to arrive the next morning.

“Are you guys still open?”

She straightens up at the familiar voice and tightens the gray scarf around her neck. “Yep. I’ll be down in a minute.” She hangs the last of the lights and plugs them in. Wiping her eyes with the heels of her palms, she stores the ladder away and walks in.

“Brock. Hey. What can I help you with today?” She asks, ducking into the back room to hang up her coat. The shop is quiet, crooning notes of Spotify’s “Christmas Coffeehouse” playing in the background. The dark blue button up peeking out of his black winter coat makes her smile. It’s the most color she has ever seen on him.

“Can you help me with a bouquet?”

“Of course.” She observes the half-empty buckets. “What things do you want to symbolize this time?”

“I actually know what I want.”

“Oh yeah? Great. What would you like?”

“Purple lilacs, irises, pink roses and baby’s breath, please.”

“Just give me a second. The roses are in the back.” She begins arranging the flowers and looks up as she’s grabbing the wrapping paper, noticing his confused stare. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, you just, didn’t tell me what they mean. Like, the flowers.”

Amber chuckles. “You’ve obviously done your research. You still want me to?” Brock nods. “Okay, purple lilacs symbolize first love, irises symbolize wisdom and eloquence. Roses are romantic, but pink ones specifically? That symbolizes admiration. So I would guess you’re giving this to someone you like, maybe a romantic partner? Someone you haven’t been with for long?”

He whistles, “Damn. You’re good.”

Her heart sinks the slightest bit as she shrugs, before a particular set of flower stems caught her eye. “I know it’s your bouquet, but how would you feel about adding daffodils? It would add a beautiful contrast to all the purple you have in here. I won’t even charge you for it.”

“Add them in, and charge me for it too.” She plucks the daffodils out of the bin, separating them throughout the bouquet. “What do those mean?” Brock asks.

“The daffodils?”

“Yeah.”

She clears her throat. “New beginnings.”

After adding the finishing touch of a purple ribbon, she punches the sale in the register and walks from behind the counter to hand the bouquet to him.

Brock shakes his head. “Nope.”

Her eyebrows furrow. “Sorry?”

“They’re for you, actually.” She raises an eyebrow, and he continues, flexing his fingers continuously. “It’s my stupid way of asking if you would like to go on a date with me.”

She looks down at the bouquet and back up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Right now?”

“If you’re free. Or in a couple weeks. I, uh, I don’t work around here, unfortunately. So I won’t be back in Minnesota until about a month or two.”

“I know who you are, Brock Boeser.” She hands the flowers to him again. “Hold these while I close up?”

“Is that a yes?”

Amber grins, scanning the shop. “Yeah. It’s not stupid, by the way.” She shuts off the lights, grabs her coat and locks the front door, her date for the night following her obediently. “It’s actually really sweet.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah.” She tentatively reaches for his fingers with her other hand as she admires the bouquet. “Do you wanna know something?”

“Anything,” He says, leaning down so he can hear her better.

“Daffodils are actually my favorite flower.”

“Like, ever? Out of all flowers?”

“Out of all flowers.”

He leads her to Osteria La Buca with a wink that has her stomach flipping. “What a coincidence.”

She looks down at the bouquet with a smile.

#k writes #in case anyone needs a break from holiday chaos #hockey fanfic #hockey fanfiction #hockey writing #nhl #nhl blurb #nhl writing #hockey rpf #nhl rpf #brock boeser #brock boeser writing #brock boeser fic #vancouver canucks #brock boeser x oc

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peach-and-bugs · 1 year

Note

I'm so glad someone's taking requests for YJ! But I'd like to ask for adult Misty x reader with dialogue 3 please!

💗Confessional - Misty Quigley (2021) x fem!Reader💗

Fanfiction master list

disclaimer: don't repost my work. I only post on Tumblr and on Ao3. anything else is stolen and should be removed immediately

Summary: Misty doesn't know the difference between a crush and a squish (the want to be close to someone in a friend way) and is quite surprised when she realizes the difference!

Warnings: mention of cannon death and body disposal (Adam) and alcohol consumption

Word Count: 2,385

A/N: Hello Loves! It's Misty's turn! I absolutely love Misty and she's definitely in my top three favorite characters. But honestly, she's kind of hard to write for, so I don't know how much I like this one. Fortunately, I do have more requests for her, so she isn't going away anywhere and I've got time to work more with her. This was another Yellowjackets dialogue request, so feel free to send in anything you'd like with Misty or another one of the girls with one of the prompts! but as always, feel free to leave questions or comments in my comments or ask box, and happy reading 💗

Misty Quigley Tag List:

General Tag List: @summergeezburr

-💗-

Misty entered her house with a rather loud sigh and a crash from the slamming of her backdoor. She practically threw her groceries on the counter, mumbling under her breath as she left them be to get something to drink from her fridge. She said fuck it and cracked open a coke, taking one long swig before setting it back on the counter and returning to the grocery bags. However, she was interrupted once again by a knock at her front door that had Caligula squawking. He must have been frustrated by all the interruptions as well. She grumbled again and maneuvered through her house to the door, opening it with far more vigor than she’d intended to. She was startled to find you at her door at this hour and she seemed to have startled you as well.

“y/n! I wasn’t expecting you,” she forced with a shiny smile. You chuckled, relaxed, and smiled as well. Misty had known you for quite some time now, however, most of that time had been spent over online citizen detective forums and eventually texting and phone calls before you finally met up in a local coffee shop a month or so ago. After that, you’d kept in pretty regular contact. Shed decided recently that she liked you. And considering that Caligila had gotten comfortable with you holding and petting him quite quickly you must be a good pick after all.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to drop in so suddenly but you'd been so quiet lately and I dunno, I got worried,” you grew shy as you gave her your reasoning, absently brushing loose hair behind your ear. “Oh! And I brought cookies,” you added, wrinkling your nose as you smiles. Misty grinned, enjoying the concern, and shrugged.

“It’s alright, I’ve been helping my friends with something is all. Do you want to come in? I was just putting groceries away before prepping dinner,”

“I wouldn’t want to be a bother-”

“Nonsense!” she chirped, reaching out her hand to take yours and tug you inside. She managed to take your purse from your shoulder and hang it on one of the free hooks by her door. “I’ll cook for us and we can catch up. What have the forums been talking about? I haven't had the time to read any of them,” she fibbed as she made her way into the kitchen with you trailing behind. She flicked on the small radio on her kitchen windowsill to whatever random radio station she'd been listening to previously.

“Oh! Did you hear about that Adam guy on the news? Some people online have been looking into that. It looks like someone could have been behind him going missing,” Misty had to refrain from physically cringing at that comment, seeing as how she’d just come home from the dead man’s apartment and the funeral in which she eliminated the crucial parts of his identification.

“Pfft, that case? That’s going nowhere. He probably just hopped on a boat and is across the world by now. I bet something will come out about money laundering or something eventually,” she flat-out fibbed as she pulled carrots and celery out of her grocery bags to put them into her fridge while you stood awkwardly holding your plate of cookies in hand.

“Um ok,” you mumbled “Well, is there anything I can do to help you? I wouldn’t want to just stand in the way,” you chuckled nervously. Why you found so nervous Misty couldn’t tell, but there seemed to be a strange feeling in the kitchen's air, one she couldn’t quite put her finger on. But she smiled again and looked down at her grocery bags, holding her hands in the air and wiggling her fingers as she contemplated what she could have you do.

“Ah! Why don’t you give those to me and start boiling some water while I finish unpacking this, hm,” she suggested as she began digging through one of the paper bags, to pull out a newly bought bag of spaghetti noodles which she offered to you in exchange for the plate in your hands. After a second you initiated the exchange and made your way to the stove as Misty pulled out a pot for you to boil.

You scooted around each other in the small space as you filled the pot and she continued organizing her groceries. Every few seconds your hand would brush against the small of her back so naturally that she might not have noticed, so when she needed to move past you she’d gently cup your hip, though it was more like her hand hovering over you. Even so, she still thought she could feel the prickling of your skin under her touch. It was endearing, she realized, to have that sort of effect on someone, though that's how friends were supposed to make each other feel. So, you were her friend now. That was nice.

“How much of this do you want me to make?” you asked her as you opened the bag.

“Just dump it all in there. I can eat the rest over the week for my lunches at work,” she decided as she pulled the ingredients she wanted to use for her sauce and meatballs. She had leftover sauce from when she’d made it before at a far larger portion size than she had intended to that was still good and she pulled out some of the new ground beef she’d bought along with bread crumbs, eggs, garlic, and an assortment of other spices.

She began organizing her ingredients before rolling out her meatballs, but before any of that, she got her sauce back on the stove to warm up next to you in a large saucepan. She casually checked on the noodled, which you were salting and they seemed to be coming along quite nicely. She moved back to her meatballs as her sauce was going by you with a lid on, but as she made the last part of the meal she couldn’t notice that strange feeling again.

She wasn’t sure who it could be coming from, if not from the both of you, but something other than the smell of dinner was in the air. The strangest part was how it was such a comforting feeling to Misty. There was something so natural about having you in her kitchen with her. Maybe it was because she hadn’t seemed to make many friends into her adulthood, besides her high school friends, of course, though they didn’t seem to talk much anymore. Could it just be that you were here and interested in being with her? You had come to check on her when she’d been quiet after all. That had to be it then.

She tossed the meatballs into the now boiling sauce to cook. She stood next to you awkwardly for a moment before reaching over you for a ladle to scoop some of your pasta water to add to her sauce, which she stirred around. You unexpectedly moved to take the ladle from her, accidentally taking hold of her hand in the process. She noticed the way your eyes widened eyes dilating for a moment or so, which she found quite curious. She tuned in long enough to realize what song was now playing. It was one her mother used to play when she was a child.

But if you feel like I feel

Please let me know that it's real

You're just too good to be true

Can't take my eyes off you

Her eyes scanned over your face. You bit your bottom lip, taking it into your mouth

I love you, baby, and if it's quite alright

I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night

I love you, baby, trust in me when I say:

She let go of the ladle and smiled.

“I need to go feed Caligula and get the table ready,” she said quickly, taking a step back from you. She turned on her heels and rushed far faster than she had intended out of the kitchen and into her lounge and to her bird’s cage. He squealed quietly and Misty smiled, opening the door to the cage and petting the bird’s head. He cooed, shitting his eyes as he nuzzled into the palm of her hand.

“Caligula, do you have any idea what’s going on with me?” she murmured as the bird climbed on her hand, up her arm, and onto her shoulder as she went to throw away the uneaten food in his dish and refill it for dinner. He began messing with her hair, preening her as he always did at dinnertime. Misty craned her neck to peek into the kitchen, quietly watching as you walked across the room to find plates and utensils and a strainer for the noodles.

Misty finished refreshing Caligula’s dinner, coaxing the bird back into his cage to eat and she shut the door behind him. She moved on into the dining room, still keeping an eye on you. As she did, she opened a drawer and found an old candle setting along with a lighter she’d never gotten around to using. She figured out why not and arranged the setting, as well as two table placements on the table, dimming the overhead lighting as you walked in with two full plates.

You paused at the dining room’s entryway, staring at the candles and the table settings placed one at the head of the table and the other directly diagonal to it on the long end of the table. When you didn’t move Misty took the plaits from you and set them both down before trotting off into the kitchen.

“Now, I have a pinot noir, but I’ve also got a cabernet sauvignon that is just divine!” she allied from the kitchen. You didn’t reply as she rummaged through her cabinets for two glasses. You hadn’t moved from where you stood just yet and noticed after looking back. “y/n, you alright?” she asked, tilting her head with curiosity. You perked up at the sound of your name and skirted to take your seat at the table.

“Oh! Um, you made the cabernet sauvignon sound very good,” you answered in a rushed attempt at sounding normal that Misty didn’t quite pick up on. She grabbed what she was told, along with a wine opener, and made her way back to the table. She stood as she opened the bottle with a satisfying pop and poured each a glass, which you tentatively grabbed, and took a few confident sips as Misty took her seat and her fork to dig in. You paused for a moment, messing with your hands in your lap before eating.

“Misty, I have a confession,” you started, not looking up from your hands.

“Well, it better not be to a murder because I can’t deal with that right now,” she answered back without the skip of a beat. You looked up, quite puzzled, and scrunched your brow.

“Um, I’m sorry, what?” you asked, nose wrinkling. Misty fully looked up and finished what she was chewing, covering her mouth with her hand as she realized your reaction.

“Oh! No, I just mean I’ve been a little stressed lately is all, but I'm only joking, I promise!” she could tell she hadn’t recovered well at all as she could practically feel the way you cringed and clenched your teeth, pulling back from her, eyes refusing to meet hers. Had you always been this shy with her? You sighed, pulling her from her thoughts.

“You know what, this was a bad idea. I need to go,” you said rather rushed as she had moments prior. Before she had time to react you'd left your seat and headed back to the front door. Misty heard the jingle of your keys and the click of her front door before she got up, frantically wiping her mouth with her napkin.

“y/n?” she called, watching you slip out the door before she began to sprint in its direction. By the time she made it to the door, you’d made your way down her front steps and were headed to her car. “y/n!” she yelled fully now, a strained crack in her voice. You stopped in your tracks, fearing the attention she might bring but it gave her enough time to grab onto your hand tight and stop you. Adrenaline had started pumping in a way that felt like fear, but of what she couldn’t pinpoint.

“y/n, did I do something,” she asked quickly, her eyes frantically searching her face. You seemed startled by the sudden desperation in her grasp and her voice and you bit your lip, your brown scrunching as you frowned but shook your head.

“No, it’s just stupid,” Misty squeezed your hand and reached up to turn your cheek to look at her.

“No it’s not, tell me. I promise whatever it is it's not stupid. I’d never find anything you say stupid,” she insisted. You met her eyes finally and sighed with defeat.

“I was going to ask you on a date,” you said in what could only be described as a whisper. Misty perked up, confused.

“A date?” she questioned. She felt your cheek burn under her fingertips.

“Yes! A date! I know it's silly, and I’m acting like a child but,” Misty grinned, vibrating with excitement.

“I’d love a date with you!” she exclaimed.

“What?” you were the confused one now.

“I didn’t know you liked me,” Misty mused, practically purring.

“Well, yes I’ve always liked you-” you started.

“But I mean I didn’t know you liked me,” she reiterated, accentuating what she meant. You grew shy again.

“Well, I didn’t know either but I got so nervous with the cooking and the candles,”

“Then this can be our date!” Misty decided.

“Really?” you chuckled under your breath. She’d gotten you to laugh and that was even more exciting than getting asked on a date.

“Yes! I’d love to take you back in and on our date,” you chuckled again (she got you to laugh again!) and nodded. Misty eagerly led you back inside and realized just what she must have been feeling before after all.

#fanfiction requests #fic request #◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ kay's at it again♡#yellowjackets requests #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets fanfic #misty quigley #misty quigley x reader #misty quigey x y/n

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annesstardustchords · 6 months

Text

I'd Go Through it Again (If I Could Hold You For a Minute) - Part 1 / Simon “Ghost” Riley X Reader

hi babies! im so sorry ive been MIA lately, school is fucking me raw and I haven't been doing mentally well at all. that being said, yall deserve some good, angsty smut. luv u all <3 (smut will be in part 2)

(my mental slump may have slipped into this one a little bit...)

Description: Ghost had passed away; killed in action and DOA a couple months prior. You hadn't been handling it well. He was the love of your life, your rock, your muse; all of it. After one particularly bad day at work, you shuffle home in tears, but what you don't know is that there's a little surprise waiting inside for you...

CW: angst, fluff, sobbbbinnnnggg

TW: Mentions of death, suicide, self-harm (non-graphic)

READ WITH CAUTION!

MINORS DNI! I WILL TELL UR MOM!

Four months ago, you received the letter; he was gone - Fuck it, dead. No need to put it nicely.

The love of your life, torn from the warmth of this earth, from you, in a split second. A bullet the size of a pill had ripped through his chest, surpassing his heart and exiting through the thickened muscle of his back. How can something so small do such damage to someone as strong as him? How can something so small take a life? How could he be gone, just like that? How could he leave you?

Angry, intrusive questions swam around in your mind every second of every day; replaying the moment he was shot, the moment he took his last breath in your brain as if you were there. abut you weren’t. You could see it; his massive frame falling to the ground, suddenly appearing small as his eyes widened, and his breath stopped. It haunted you, knowing he was alone when it happened. Soap hadn't found him until hours after he'd passed. "DOA" the letter had read. Dead on fucking arrival. How long had he been there? You could've saved him, you think. You should've been there. But alas, you were deployed to another field, another team just days before. You couldn't protect him.

"Aye!" your superior calls out from behind you, "Head in the fuckin' game, soldier!"

You snap out of your thoughts, raising your gun to the practice target and firing without thinking. You were a great shot naturally, but not these days; your mind focused solely on Simon, your eyes fogged with his decrepit silhouette inside of his casket. It was open the day of the funeral; not your typical soldier send-off, but you had requested it. You hated what you saw when you looked inside that box. You had lifted the mask to ensure it really was him, and sure enough, it was. His scarred face, and tight-shut eyes. It haunts you everywhere you fucking go.

You hit the white plastic of the target, not even close to the drawn body of the thing. The Sergeant laughs from behind you and you toss your gun to the side, embarrassed and exhausted.

"Thank god this is just target practice, eh? You really did a number on 'em, probably killed em' with that fuckin' shot," he cackles as you walk past him and grab for the door handle, "Ay now, Soldier. Where do you think you're goin'?"

"Home, sir," you bluntly answered, too disappointed and spaced out to give a shit about your current ranking or the fucking novelty of the trade.

"You go home now, Soldier, and you're done," he barks, "You understand?"

"Yes, sir," you respond bluntly, swinging open the door and walking out with a huff.

You weren't one to disobey your orders. You weren't one to leave your post. You weren't one to quit. But, honest to god, if you had been put on the field the next day as planned, you would've thrown your un-armoured body against the first bullet shot.

Anything to see him again.

As you gathered your things from your locker and left the base, you could feel tears burning down your cheeks beneath your mask. You didn't sniffle, you didn't wipe them away. You didn't care. You just needed to be home. Being around this many guns, around a fucking armoury, couldn't be safe for you in this state. The morbid fascination you faced daily following Simon's death was nothing short of constant, but you were scared. What if he got into heaven, and you couldn't?

God, you just needed to go to bed.

You held your keys tight to your hand as you walked to the door of your apartment, the harsh metal breaking skin; not that you noticed, though. You turned the key and walked in, locking the door behind you and chucking your belongings onto the floor along with your shoes. You tore your mask from your face, and walked down the hall. As you made your way towards your bedroom, you noticed the familiar shine of your lamp seeping through the slightly ajar door.

Certain you hadn't left the light on yourself, much too weary of hydro costs, you quickly grabbed the gun from your safe. You hadn't even looked at the gun since that wretched day, untrusting in yourself and your thoughts, but with your job being what it was, you couldn't take any risks. You hold the gun tight to your side, slowly opening the door, and raising it to the dark figure sitting atop your bedsheets.

"Get the fuck out," you harshly whisper, "I don't have fucking time for this."

"Hi, darling," a familiar voice says as the figure turns his head.

Your heart nearly stops then. Your eyes meet the ghastly white of a skull mask, one you were all too accustomed to. You wrap your finger around the trigger, ready to end this sick joke immediately.

"I don't know who the fuck you are, or what the hell this is, but you need to go. Right fucking now," you bark, tightening your grip on the pistol.

"Y/N, please, put the gun down," the soft, British voice pleads.

"You're real fuckin' stupid if you think that's gonna happen."

You take a step inside the room, pressing the gun hard against his forehead as you take an unwavering breath.

"Make a move, and I swear to god, I will put a bullet in your brain," you mutter, "Who are you?"

"It's me, Y/N. I promise it's me," the man says, confident but composed, fully aware of the gun pressed between his eyebrows though seemingly unafraid of it.

"Is this some kind of sick joke? Hm? Putting a fucking widow through this?" you nearly yell as you press the barrel harder into his skull, causing him to wince, "You wanna beat me, interrogate me? Fucking fine, but this... this is sick. He's gone. I saw the body myself."

"Y/N, I-"

"Don't say my name," you snap, "Who fucking sent you, huh?"

"Love, please. Back up, let me take my mask off, yeah?" he asks, carefully lifting his hand to your wrist, tapping it gently in request.

"Don't fucking touch me. You're not him. God, when Price hears about this..." you dryly chuckle, trailing off when you notice a bump under one of his gloved fingers.

"Take your glove off," you demand, motioning your head towards it.

"Wha- I... Okay," he stammers, lifting both of his hands cautiously and removing both of the gloves. You grab his left hand, tugging off the band prominently placed on his ring finger. You raise it to your face, your other hand still firmly holding the gun to his head.

"Y/N L/N, in combat and in devotion," read the inside of the ring, matching the words circling the ring placed on your left hand in similarity.

"Where'd you get this?" you whispered, your once stern demeanour shifting into something much smaller; more pathetic.

"The pastor on our wedding day. Gaz got them made for us," he answers calmly.

You pull the gun off of him, raising your hands to your face and pressing your palms to your eyes as you turn around.

"What the fuck is going on?" you cry, hardly audible.

"Y/N, it's me. I'm so sorry," he whispers, shifting to stand.

"Sit the fuck down," you yell, "Take your mask off."

He nods, turning around to check the curtain is closed before gradually and carefully tucking two fingers under the hem of the mask, lifting it over his chin and nose.

You feel tears brim your lashes, slick to your under eyes as his mouth and nose come into view. It's like a b-roll as the mask is lifted higher and higher off his face; the scar on his right cheek, the dark war paint, his furrowed brows, his fluffy hair. He discards the mask, tossing it next to him and grabbing a makeup wipe from your bedside table to rid himself of the smeared paint around his blue eyes.

"See?" he says, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Your hands shake as they go to cover your mouth, holding in the deep wail threatening to pour from your lips as you sob. The man you loved so much, the man you fucking married, the man you buried just four months prior, was here; alive.

"Si," you whimper, throwing your full body weight onto him after placing the gun down, your thighs on either side of his hips as you wrap your arms so tight around his neck that he nearly chokes.

"Hi, Lovie," he whispers into your neck, wrapping his strong arms around you and pulling you close to him. You take in everything; his scent, the feel of him so close to you, his scruff against your jaw. All of the things you swore you'd never get to feel again, tucked between your limp arms.

"How could you fucking do this to me?" you croak, your throat raw as you slam your weakened fists against his vest-clad chest.

"I know, I know, darling," he says, pulling away just far enough that he could see your eyes, lifting your chin to look at him before holding your face between his strong hands, "I had no choice. Trust me, I wanted to come back to you the second it happened."

"Then why didn't you? Do you know what I've been through? Do you know what it's like to watch the love of your life get fucking buried?"

"No, I don't," he sighs, "but I do know what it's like being dead to you, literally and metaphorically, and that's nothing I ever wish to relive."

"So why'd you do it then? I can't fucking live without you, I tried to fucking kill myself just to see you again, Simon," you accidentally admit, tears falling off your face and down your neck.

"Oh, my love," he sighs, worry adamant in his gruff features as he gently caresses your hair, "I wish I could've called, sent a letter, fucking anything. I'm so, so sorry I put you through this."

"Tell me what happened, Si. Tell me there was a good reason you faked it all."

"Two of the opposing had intel on you. They must have seen you without your mask, or someone let something slip; I'm not sure. I got cornered by two of their men, and they gave me an ultimatum; Either I take the bullet, or they tell all divisions outside of 141 your identity. Knowing your past with OpFor, I couldn't let that happen - couldn't risk your safety. Soap shot both of them before I could say anything," he explains, never breaking eye contact.

"So, they're both dead. Why did you have to-"

"There's more," he says, taking your hands in his, "There was only one other opposition out there who knew about you, and I couldn't come out of hiding until I was sure he was dead, so I faked my death under Price's orders to give us more time and to keep you safe. As long as this guy knew I was alive, he wouldn't have let it rest until he ruined you. This guy was good - stealthy, and stayed hidden. I knew you were safe as long as I was out of the picture, and that's all that mattered to me."

"Oh my god," you whimper, the tears seeming to be endless, "Please tell me you caught him? I can't risk losing you again."

"He's gone, baby. We caught him. I wouldn't have come back if I knew it could put you in jeopardy," he softly smiles, wiping your tears away with his thumb once more as you slowly smile.

"Si-" you choke out, a look of realization crossing your soft features.

"Yeah, love?" he asks, concerned.

"I'm so sorry, I-" you sob, unable to get the words out, choking on your own tears.

"Baby, baby. Shh," he coos, trying to stop you from hyperventilating, "What on earth are you apologizing for?"

"I was so angry at you. I- I was so mean. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have blamed you," you mutter, letting your forehead fall against his.

"Oh, my love. It's okay. I can't even imagine what you've been through over the last four months. I don't know what I'd ever do if I lost you," he admits, grabbing at the nape of your neck gently as his eyes flutter shut.

"It was hell. I walked out of target practice today. I can't even aim anymore. I don't think Sergeant is gonna let me back," you confess.

"He'll let you back, baby. Price and Soap both know what happened, and we've all got your back, okay?" he says, gently rubbing along the back of your head.

“I don’t even care if he does, I’m just- I only care about you; about you being here,” you softly smile, wrapping your arms tighter around him as you sniffle.

“There’s that pretty smile,” he whispers, “I missed that face of yours so much.”

“You can’t even begin to understand how much I missed you,” you say, gently kissing his soft lips, “I thought I’d never get to do that again.”

“‘M not goin’ anywhere baby. Never again,” he murmurs, kissing you back, “I couldn’t bare knowing how much I’ve hurt you again.”

“I love you, Simon,” you whisper, the words rolling off your tongue like an oath, like a god damn prayer.

“I love you, too.”

You know it’s more than just words; it’s a promise. He’s yours.

#cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #ghost simon riley #ghost #simon riley #smut #cod smut

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your-denki-kun · 15 days

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Hey i just wanna say that i really love your left out story, if it isn't to much to ask. Could you perhaps do an alternative ending where the reader just goes back to the town with the dying Family member and stays there to even a few days after the funeral without taking to the boys. Would they notice and how long did it take to notice. What would they do if they noticed, would they try to find reader or just hope they return?

I Really enjoyed the story and all the support and love to you as a writer. You can just ignore this if you dont wanna write or dont have time i hope youre feeling good! :3 ♥

A/N: Hello. Thank you so much for this beautiful message and I love your idea. So here is my take on it. Hope it's to your liking. As always requests are welcome. English isn't my native language, so sorry if there are any mistakes. I have dyslexia, so yeah. This is an Alt ending to an existing story of mine, so I jump into it halfway to continue where the story starts changing, I advice reading the original part first. Enjoy.

What: Alt ending, angst, mention of death,

Wordcount: 2.5K+

~3rd person pov.~

It's been weeks since that day and things like that kept happening. They've had four dates since that one in the span of seven weeks. Right now you're home alone, sitting on the couch, curled up in a corner as you watch TV. All of a sudden the house phone rings and you walk over to it, picking up.

''Hello. (y/n), speaking. What can I do for you?'' You ask softly.

''Hello, this is the hospital. We're calling to inform you that (family/member/name) is in the hospital in critical condition.'' A female voice says, sorrow lacing the words.

''W-Which hospital?'' You ask in a shaking voice.

''The one in Hosu.''

''I'm on my way.''

You hang up and scramble up to the shared room, putting on some pants and a sweater before running to get your keys, phone, wallet and earplugs. Once you have everything you put on your shoes and run out of the house, heading to the station to take a train to Hosu hospital. Once you arrive you speedwalk into the hospital.

''I'm here for (f/m/n).'' You heave as you try to catch your breath.

''Room 524.'' The female says.

You nod and walk over to the elevator. Once the doors open you walk inside and push the button for the fifth floor. The doors close and slowly it rises to the fifth floor. As the doors open again you speedwalk out and head to their room. As you see the door you open it without knocking and see them laying on the bed, skin pale, eyes empty and tired as they look weak.

''(f/m/n)...'' You whisper as you walk over to their bed.

''Hey little one.'' They say in a weak and trembling voice.

''What happened?'' You ask as you sit down on a chair beside the bed.

''I fell and broke some things. My weak body is getting weaker with the day, Honey. I don't think I have long left.'' They croak out.

''(f/m/n)....Don't say that.'' You whisper in a sad tone.

''It's the truth little one. Just, stay here for a bit and tell me some nice stories.'' They say.

You nod and start telling them stories of things that happened at work or things you read or saw on TV. They listen and ask a question every once in a while. You answer and just spend time with them until the doctor comes to tell you that visiting hours are over. You nod and say goodbye to your family member before leaving.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As soon as you get home you shower and put on some comfy clothes. You sit down on the couch and stare at the TV as something random is playing. Your mind is running all over the place, thinking of ways to make the last part of (f/m/n)'s life special. Slowly a plan starts forming and once it's formed, you start making calls to make it happen.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Two days later everything is set. You check if you've packed everything into your suitcase and backpack, once you're sure you have everything you grab your phone, keys, wallet and earbuds before heading out the door.

Quickly you make your way to the station and hop onto the train to Hosu. Once the train arrives you head over to the hospital, which you visit every day since the call. You don't even go to the frontdesk anymore and simply head up to (f/m/n)'s room. As you reach the door you knock on the door before entering.

''Hello, (f/m/n).'' You greet while abandoning the suitcase and your backpack by the door and walking over to the bed.

''Hello little one. What's with all the bags?''

''I talked with the doctors and with everyone back at home, we're going back home (f/m/n). The doctors and (mother/name) agreed that you should be home and surrounded by all your family. (m/n) agreed to allow you to stay at her house.'' You explain with a smile.

''Oh little one... That's so sweet. Thank you.''

With that you start helping her get dressed before signing all the forms needed and calling the taxi. Once you get a message that the taxi is there you start heading out with (f/m/n) and help her into the taxi.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After almost four hours in the car you arrive at (m/n)'s house. As you're getting out of the taxi and helping (f/m/n) out, the frontdoor opens and your mother walks out, face happy yet sad.

''(f/m/n), (y/n), welcome home.'' She smiles while walking over.

''Mom.'' You smile and give her a hug.

''(m/n).'' (f/m/n) greets with a smile before hugging her to the best of their abilities.

You pay the taxi driver and get your things inside as the three of you continue to catch up and head inside. Once inside you head to the room (f/m/n) will be staying in and help them get settled.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next four weeks are spend in your hometown, seeing family, spending time with everyone and just making the best of the shitty situation. You got text from your friends during your time away. Denki had texted you the second day at your mom's asking where you were. Katsuki texted after a week, Izuku after a week an a half and Eijirou after two weeks.

You replied to Denki, explained what happened and even called with him every two days. To Katsuki you send a simple ''I'm with family.'' And to the others you send the same. You know Denki kept them up to date, but you refused to call them and respond to any other message.

Denki understands, but sees how sad it makes the others. He'll tell you, but doesn't push you to talk to them until you're ready. Your family is also supportive of your choices.

This morning your mother found she had passed in her sleep, so the entire day has been spend calling people and setting everything up. Many people came to help and support us.

Four days later is the funeral. It was beautiful and just how they wanted it. Over their four last weeks they had told you how they wanted it to go and you followed it to the t. Denki wanted to come and so did the others, but you requested they didn't.

You don't want to single Denki out more than you already do and don't feel comfortable with the other three being there. Your friends send their condolences once they heard.

Right now it's five days after the funeral, all their belongings had been devided and you'd been able to just be with your family while everyone grieved. It's time to go back to your partners however.

You stare at the door, hesitant to walk in. They're all home, Denki told you that once you said you wanted to come back. He told them you'd be coming today, they just don't know when. They had offered to pick you up, but you had refused.

You needed some time on your own to prepare for the talk that's about to happen. Taking a deep breath you open the door and quietly make your way inside. Looking up you see Denki standing in the hall with a bright smile, the other three standing behind him with smiles of their own.

''Welcome home Pichu.'' Denki greets as he walks over, slowly pulling you into a hug to give you the chance to step away.

''Hey Pika.'' You mumble into his neck, holding him close.

''Welcome home Pebble/Puppy/Teddy Bear.'' Your other boyfriends greet, walking closer, but not going to hug you.

''Hey.'' You greet back as you break the hug with Denki.

''We're sorry for your loss.'' All four of them continue on.

''Thank you.''

''How about we sit down?'' Izuku suggests gently, gesturing to the dining room and more specifically the table.

You simply nod as you take off your jacket and shoes. The others head over to the table and you follow after them shortly after. You all sit down. Izuku, Katsuki and Eijirou on one side and you and Denki on the other.

''Why did you leave without a word, Pebble?'' Eijirou asks softly, breaking the tense silence.

''You guys rarely talked to me, didn't think you'd notice.'' You mumble, staring the table like it's the most interesting thing ever.

''How come?'' Eijirou asks gently.

''They slept in a different room, closed themselves off. It was slow, but the more I think to before they left, the more I realize what had been going on for a while.'' Izuku mutters, sounding deep in thought.

''We had been excluding Pichu before they left. It was slow, but it reached the point we didn't include them anymore. I honestly thought they were going through something and needed time, but when I didn't see them for the second day in a row I decided to text them.

''It became clear quickly that they didn't need time and space, they needed to feel loved and included. We had been excluding them for three months at that point. They didn't feel like they could come to us to tell us what was going on, that we wouldn't care.'' Denki explains, also telling them what you told him during the first phone call after you left.

''I.... I had no idea it was that bad. I-...'' Izuku stammers, eyes tearing up as he looks at you. ''I knew we didn't include you as much, but I never realized we made you feel like that. I'm sorry.''

''Fuck. I wish you told us earlier Teddy Bear, but... I can't be mad at you for not telling us. We didn't really make you feel wanted or like you could. Shit, we fucked up. I fucked up, didn't I?''

''It was miscommunication. I figured you guys were busy with work and gave you more space, which in turn gave the impression I needed space. That... I understand that, can forgive that, well... get past it. What I'm most upset with is the amount of time it took for you to realize I left.

''It took you a week, Katsuki. It took you, Izuku, a week and a half.... And... Eijirou... It took you two weeks. Two weeks. Denki texted me the second day, I had been gone for a bit over a day. A week I... It hurt but okay. A week and a half, ouch. That hurt. Two weeks. At that point I stopped believing you'd text.

''I almost reached that point at a week and a half. That is what hurt. That it took so long for you guys to realize I left. Why did it take so long?'' By the end you have tears clinging onto your lashes, just one blink away from falling.

''Well, for me it took a week and a half because I was taking crazy shifts most days the first week of you being gone. I left before the sun rose and left early morning. I figured I wasn't seeing you because you were asleep whenever I was home. After the week I went back to regular hours and figured I wasn't seeing you for a similar reason.

''I thought I just kept missing you, that our schedules weren't aligned. The day I texted you I just wanted to make sure, something fellt off, but I thought I was simply overreacting as usual. After your text I checked your schedule, to see how long you'd been gone and saw you were on leave for a week and a half already and there was no set date for you coming back.'' Izuku explains, tears falling from his eyes.

You simply nod as he's done, tears of your own spilling. His reasoning sounds logical and kinda logical. He is always worried quickly and he has been working on it, so him trying to push the nagging feeling away for a few days sounds logical.

''Pebble, I... I'd been busy as well. My schedule wasn't as crazy as Izuku's, but still busy and crazy. Whenever I was home I slept or went on a date whoever was pressent. The day I texted you, was the second day of a short break work forced me to take.

''It didn't sit right with me I hadn't seen you around the house for two days, not even a glimps. After your text I figured it was simply a weekend away or something. When I brought it up at dinner however I realized that wasn't it. Seeing I spoke about it everyone expressed how they're figured out, but it was strange you'd been gone for a week now.

''That's when Denki told us you'd been gone for two weeks. That your family member was ill and didn't have long. That you decided to go with them back home to be with everyone, which is super manly by the way. I fellt horrible and started thinking back, how had we missed it?

''That when it all clicked. We'd all been drifting from you for a good three months at that point. I couldn't believe I let that happen. I also understand you needed your distance after all that. I just hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me at some point.''

Eijirou's reasoning also kinda made sense, but it still hurt and stung. You glance at Katsuki to find him already staring at you intensely.

''I noticed about the same time as Denki, soon after you left. I tried not to read into it, telling myself you were just busy and we kept missing each other. On day five it didn't sit fucking right me but... I waited two more days before texting.

''I fucking wish I texted earlier, that I reached out as soon as I noticed. I didn't, that's my fault, my fucking mistake. Just know I fucking regret it, that I never ment for any of this shit to happen. I'm fucking sorry, Teddy Bear.''

Tears shimmer in Katsuki's eyes as he sits there. You stare at them all, Denki's hand in your own as you hold it tightly.

''It hurt. A lot. I guess I understand why you reached out when you did, why it took as long as it did. But... I can't just forgive and forget. I'm willing to... to give you guys another chance, to show me if you regret it.

''It's going to take time for everything to go back to normal however. So don't expect that. I mean... I haven't even fully forgiven Denki, even if I talked to him and kept him updated, I haven't forgiven him yet. He's well on his way to being forgiven but yeah. I guess you get the point.''

''I do. I'll do anything to make it up to you. As long as we get to try, that's all we ask for. A chance.'' Eijirou is quick to respond, jumping at the chance to make it up to you.

''Anything, Teddy Bear. Take as long as you need.''

''We won't ask that of you, Puppy. Thank you for giving us a chance.''

You simply nod at their responses, moved by the fact they respect your wishes and are just happy to be given a chance. Denki wraps you up in another hug and the others make their way over, joining you two.

It's going to take time for everything to be back to how it was almost four months ago, but you're hopeful it will work.

#bnha #bakugou katsuki #eijirou kirishima #denki kaminari #izuku midoriya #izuku midoria x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #denki kaminari x reader #angst

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dracolilhoe · 28 days

Text

Temptation (Severus Snape x Y/n)

Chapter 1 - New Beginnings

Severus Snape x Y/n Evadne

Main Masterlist here -> DracoLilHoe

Harry Potter Fandom Masterlist here -> HP Masterlist

Temptation Masterlist here -> Temptation Masterlist

Warnings - Female reader, use of Y/n, Mentions of Death and Suicide, Professor reader

Words: 730

Summary: Y/n's tragic backstory and the start of a new chapter in her life.

If you find mistakes please tell me! I'm not a perfect writer so please just let me know. Happy reading! :)

August 21st, 1993 8:30 pm

Death. It's always been a topic that has intrigued me. Nobody really knows what happens when you die, but I've always wondered what it would feel like. What would it feel like if I drowned...what would it feel like if I was tortured...what would it feel like if my body just offered itself up as bait?

My father, Gareth, shot himself on my birthday in 1979. I had just turned 11 and was on summer break.

Honestly, it was the best birthday present ever.

I've never seen my mother in such pain when we found him.

SIDE NOTE: I hated seeing my mother upset. She was my everything.

I remember we had a "girl's day", a day when my mom and I spent time together. We were in the car pulling into the driveway and as we walked up the stairs to the front door we saw a note:

My sweet Evaline,

Don't come inside. I don't want you to see this.

Yeah...my mom went inside.

She made me sit on the steps of the porch and wait for her to come back. She looked so broken when she came and sat next to me. Her cheeks were stained with tears and her hands were shaking and coated in blood.

After my father's passing, we held his funeral in London, his hometown. Afterward, my mother decided to sell our family home and moved us to a small apartment in Little Venice (London). She said she wanted a new beginning, free from the reminders of our past.

A load of bullshit if you ask me.

August 22nd, 1993 3:00 pm

My mother always tried to hide the fact that our family was broken. She didn't do a very good job. She would always try to get me out of the house and away from my father.

SIDE NOTE: They only got married because of me. I was just an accident. Nobody had to tell me. It was obvious.

My mother was hopelessly in love with him, but he only wanted to use her because she was, as he like to put it, "appealing to the eye". But me, he hated me. Everything I did always seemed to just piss him off. I could never do anything right. It didn't matter how hard I tried or how much effort I put in.

SIDE NOTE: He used to hit and throw things at me and my mom, especially when he was drunk. Which he almost always was.

August 23rd, 1993 8:00 pm

His death never did sit right with me. It just didn't make sense. It didn't matter that I hated him I always wondered "Why would he kill himself?" Looking back I remember he always used to be gone for days or even weeks at a time.

I wonder why...

August 24th, 1993 10:46 am

Since I was of age I started at Hogwarts. One day I ended up getting a letter from my grandma.

My mother killed herself.

To nobody's surprise, she couldn't handle the pain.

SIDE NOTE: I cried for hours. At the age of eleven losing both of my parents took a toll on me. I wanted to die. Even if I hated my father. I still loved him.

August 25th, 1993 11:00am

My grandma got sick a few months ago. She didn't make it. I remember it like it was yesterday.

SIDE NOTE: May 6th, 1993 6:00 pm. That was when I got the phone call.

I was sitting in the kitchen drinking a cup of tea and working on a painting. I heard the phone ring and got up to answer it. Sometimes I wish I didn't. Just so I could pretend she was alive.

August 26th, 1993 12:00 pm

I always relied on my grandma, since she was my only family left. But now she was gone. I was broke as hell. No job, no money, and could barely afford the apartment. That was until I got the letter.

THE LETTER (June 20th, 1993):

Dear Miss Evadne,

I'm very sorry to hear about your grandmothers passing. My condolences. I understand that you are looking for a job, and I have a proposal. Unfortunately, Professor Sprout has decided to retire, and, as I understand it, you had a real knack for Herbology. If you are interested in teaching this year please write back.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Well, I'm broke, basically homeless, and in need of a job. So what could I do other than say...

yes.

Check me out on Tumblr!

Check me out on Wattpad

#severus snape x reader #professor snape #pro snape #severus snape #snape #harry potter #sev snape x fem!reader #severus snape x fem!reader #sev snape x y/n #sev snape x you #severus snape x y/n #severus snape x you #severus snape imagine

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saltygilmores · 9 months

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Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls: Season 2, Episode 17, "Dead Uncles and Vegetables", Part 3

Part 1 Part 2 All Episodes

Please, sir, there is nothing I wish to see more than Miss Patty drunk with power.

How big was it again, Babette?

Nothing brings me greater pleasure than when Luke and Jess exchange silent glances like “Can you believe this corny shit?” The meeting is being held to discuss the feud between Taylor and the Hippie with the farmers market. This seems like a personal dispute that could have been an email.

At the meeting Taylor Karens harder than he's ever Karen'd before.

Why don't you mind your god damn beeswax, Rory-No-Job-Gilmore. This is getting old and frankly kinda weird. I’m really raring for one of those delicious scenes where Jess or Dean takes her down a peg.

After the meeting adjourns, The Convention of the Male Karens + a wildly out of place Kirk meet outside in order to remind Luke what a piece of shit his uncle was and that they’re not going to his funeral. Taylor sure sounds confident that the people of Stars Hollow won’t also spit on his grave and sing a happy song when he croaks. Frankly I don't even think there will be a grave. I've always envisioned Taylor being stuffed into a sack and tossed over his beloved bridge to become swan food along with Shane, who Jess slaughtered after the Dance Marathon.

There isn’t enough rock throwing in this show. In my gritty unrated Gilmore Girls reboot titled The Hollow, more people will throw rocks at Taylor Doose.

I paused just so I could enjoy a few moments of anticipation before she reveals what the exciting Early 2000's internet application is.

Golly! I miss this early 2000's optimism about a Future with Internet.

It's streaming in right now, but sorry Lorelai, she can't send you any pictures of Prague. Corporate tech overlords have deecreed that picture taking is forbidden and must be blocked with a blacked out screen of death. No Prague for you.

Omg.

Out of Context Gilmore Girls.

Sookie: Your mom is getting me 50% off of everything. Lorelai: Yes, but 50% off of loads of money is still loads of money. You don't have that much to spend. Pretty rich coming from “Miss orders take out and diner food 3 times a day."

But when is it ever the WRONG time for you to meddle in people's business? It's a 24/7/365 job for you. And your daughter is quickly on her way to being crowned the next Little Miss Meddler. Sookie understandably has some questions about why Jackson would go to Lorelai Gilmore for wedding planning concerns. Sookie also realizes she can't afford the grandiose wedding that Emily got her into and tries to run damage control. Lorelai tells Sookie that her mother brainwashed her. That's rich coming from Miss "Brainwashed By Dean Forrester".

DIS BITCH IS LEAVING WORK AGAIN! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT!

She’s leaving work to help Diner Guy look at coffins!!! Get HR on the phone!

That's what he said.

Scott Patterson without a hat is...mildly off putting.

Is this what you wanted Rory? Are you happy now? Baby is miserable! But you got your damn coffee servant, now start tipping him! I made a video clip of this delightful interaction so please check it out. Milo's "No's" are so acidic they could strip paint off the wall. He needs to win in an Emmy for his No's. They are so good. You can watch my Jess Says No compliation here.

Jess Mariano: Toils in the coffee mines every day and night before and after school for sub minimum wage and eventually, on top of working a second job, minds his business, dutifully pours your coffee, no chit chat, all business. No one tips him. Lorelai Gilmore: Does a mediocre job taking orders for 1 hour and gets a 4 star Yelp review because she's Quirky. Lorelai to me, TWWGG: What's a Yelp? Me: Nevermind.

Rory, I mean this in the kindest, gentlest way possible, because I know you are a sensitive soul... Fuck all the way off. Fuck you and also your boyfriend and your mother (okay, she's not that bad in this episode). The "Get back to work" routine wasn't cute the first time when he was trying to enjoy a few precious moments to himself before school, but now he's literally working. He's like a foot away from you. Let the boy go upstairs and jerk off, sheesh. What a weird z-plot.

Rory works a job for two days and becomes drunk with power.

I really hope that when Lorelai goes back to work, Michel has some choice French curse words for her after leaving him in a lurch to cover her shift 3 times in a week for Diner Guy.

Hey look Rory, a job opening! You gonna apply or what?

This was really sweet.

So many things are throwing off the balance of the Gilly Girls Universe lately. Rory gets a job and becomes a control freak. Rory pays for her food. Lorelai dispenses reasonable advice. Lorelai's meddling is at a minimum. Lorelai is uncharacteristically pleasant. Dean is nowhere to be found (is that why Lorelai is so tolerable?) Scott Patterson without a hat.

#gilmore girls #denise rewatches gilmore girls #gilmore girls season 2 #dead uncles and vegetables #rory gilmore #lorelai gilmore #luke danes #jess mariano #milo ventimiglia #Scott Patterson without a hat

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archerygun · 2 months

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Wowee. This is a bit of an emotional one. Just warning you now.

I’ve been watching Ghosts pretty much since it came out. My dad surprised me with the first episode and refused to let me know what we were watching until I saw Ben Willbond’s face and was like “HOLD ON.”

(Nobody asked, but my favourite has always been the Captain because I’ve been obsessed with the Second World War since I was 7. My dad’s favourite is Robin, my mum’s is Kitty and my sister likes Pat).

It wasn’t niche then by any stretch of it. It’s always been popular, but it certainly wasn’t something your teachers plus the whole internet were cracking out the good wine for. (I proceeded to annoy everyone in my life by talking about it, little did they know that 3 years later they’d become equally obsessed by it).

And that doesn’t sound too special, but like. When Ghosts came out, I was in Primary School. Now I’m sitting my GCSEs. That’s fucking insane. Not even mentioning how it singlehandedly carried me through lockdown when I was dealing with a bigger workload than ever (online school just means strictish parents get to cross over into actually strict) and only had one friend to communicate with.

The first (and last) time I read proper fanfiction was when I was like 12 and looking through the Ghosts fandom because I was having a really, really bad time with paranoia and couldn’t sleep.

When we had our Year 10 mocks, my friend showed up half an hour late to our Chemistry exam after doing zero revision because she was bingewatching every episode of Ghosts to cope with exams. She gave me a rose for valentine’s this year with “I’m from Yorkshire mate, I’m practically made of tea.” on it. Her Yearbook quote is gonna be “I’m going to drown myself in the lake! I mean it!”

My Media Studies teacher found out I watched the show and started enthusiastically taking me through all of her theories about it before Season 4 came out. (She’s like sixty and her favourite show is Line of Duty by the way). Before Season 5 came out I asked her how she felt and she gave me a very excited “We’re getting out the good wine!!!”

So. My grandad died in 2022. Just before Christmas. They thought he’d make it to celebrate Christmas with us, but they’d overestimated. He had lung cancer, caused by working around asbestos as an industrial electrician. I genuinely cannot describe how much of a wonderful man he was. He was the best person I ever met, and more of a second dad than a grandad.

The last thing my grandad watched with us (we put a lot of importance on watching things as a family, at least in my family. Not sure if this is the same for everyone) was an episode of Ghosts. We thought it would be a laugh, because his end of the family are all from Sheffield and they’d introduced Maddocks. He was very out of it, and on an oxygen drip. He couldn’t really pay attention but he insisted on trying because he wanted to make us happy.

He died that week, on the day we had to leave. We were in the house when he started failing and all we could do was drive back down to London.

(Ghosts actually got a shoutout in the funeral. We’re a family with a sense of humour, and my grandad was the kind of man that results in a family debate about whether Ça Plane Pour Moi is an appropriate song for a funeral).

The Christmas episode that year broke me. In a good way. When they played Pat’s video tapes, I saw every photo of my dad’s family in the eighties in Yorkshire. It can’t be too hard to capture the energy, I’m sure, but I’ll tell you this. There wasn’t a dry bloody eye in the sitting room. My aunt even got their Christmas pictures out afterwards. My Sheffield family saw their childhoods on the screen and my London family saw my grandad.

It’s funny how things can end up being an accidental allegory or feel cosmically intentional.

I’m not saying this for pity, or to one-up anyone about my connection to the show. I just feel like if I don’t describe every detail, Ghosts’ impact on my life is going to be understated. And I’m more than happy that it will impact so many more people.

So, yeah. Thank you, Ghosts. I can’t think of a single piece of other media that’s been as impactful on my life. Thank you for being made with care and love and attention to detail and terminal levels of Britishness. Thank you for dealing with death and grief and healing in an entertaining way.

Thank you. For everything.

#flipping heck how do i tag this #bbc ghosts #thank you #pat bbc ghosts #maddocks bbc ghosts #pat butcher #sheffield #mourning #grief #pat butcher ghosts #1980s #uk #british #british tv

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mrs-luigi-vargas · 7 months

Text

Um. Hi. So I was reading @theangelofangst's newest work and it gave me Blorbo Thoughts. Unfortunately my blorbo is Kamek, so uhh…yeah.

Anyway, I wrote a thing based on it! Sorry if the lore/timeline (or the cipher) is wrong; I started writing this after Chapter 3 came out and then Chapter 4 came out as I entered the editing phase, lmao.

Also if you haven't read Speechless Symphony yet, you really really should! It's a delight of a story and the ending is very good :D

~~~

Sivsocavoup & Sitvusevoup

[AO3 Link]

Sitting in a cage in a pitiful excuse for a dungeon really gives you a lot of time to think.

A lot of time for your mind to wander, bored with staring at golden bars, white walls, the glint of metal spears meant to poke you if you’re out of line, the closed door denying you freedom. Nothing to stop thoughts and memories from surfacing, and of course those thoughts and memories can't do you the decency of being any semblance of pleasant.

No, the memories that float beneath your eyelids and repeat ad nauseam are those having to do with how you had ended up here to begin with. That plan, that infiltration, that confrontation. That oh-so-satisfying spray of blood, those delectable cries of fear. That green human’s face flipping to pure rage at a speed that could have put even King Bowser to shame.

That lucky throw.

That throw that shouldn't have been of any note, as the object flung through the air had been just a small stone. But it hadn’t been until the flames King Bowser had been gathering abruptly died out and he'd begun clawing at his own throat that you’d realized something was wrong. But you had barely been able to raise your wand to do anything about the way his face had twisted in pain before the green one struck, with a blow to the head that cast your world dark.

And then you had woken up here.

You spend the first hours after reorienting yourself fuming about the indignity of it all. Swearing vengeance for being treated like this, cursing those blasted humans who had landed you here, vowing to break out with King Bowser and —

The panic that had been blooming in your King’s eyes flashes in your mind, then. If you were an optimist, then you would next hope that whatever had been wrong with him had somehow resolved itself, and that he was waiting somewhere in the wings with a grand plan to break you, his esteemed second-in-command, out of this dreadful place. But you know exactly what had been wrong with King Bowser, and you haven't gotten this far in life with anything as worthless as optimism.

So you flick your wrist when the guards aren't looking, pulling up that monitoring charm you’d attached to your King back when he’d been a trouble-making prince, one you’d never bothered to remove as he’d aged. It stares back at you, fuzzy and buzzing with static as if it had never been anchored to him at all. You allow yourself one tremulous breath, paired with a single overlong blink. You’re behind enemy lines, after all.

...

...He’d been a great king.

For the next few days, you comfort yourself with the fact that the Mushroom Kingdom’s hero, at least, had been injured enough that he likely hadn’t survived that encounter, either. But even that solace is denied to you, as you overhear the guards standing near your cage chatter about Mario. About Mario’s recovery —

You struggle to keep your magic under control. They'd taken your wand away when they’d locked you up, in the assumption you were powerless without it; there’s no need for them to have evidence to the contrary. Still, you seethe over the meager, tasteless prison food they’d given you. You should have known the lack of funeral bells was a sign something wasn't right. Not only does that green hero get to walk away a murderer, he gets to have his brother with him, safe and sound. A duo of goody-two-shoes, prancing about as if they hadn't destabilized an entire kingdom in one fell swoop. As if they hadn't —

Again, you wrestle your magic down. It still simmers beneath your skin, eager for an outlet. And you're eager to give it one, one that ended in those brothers suffering a thousand times the amount King Bowser had, as he’d burned from the inside out. Yes, they would rue the day they crawled out of whatever wretched hole they’d surfaced from, so long as you still lived.

---

For a while, you entertain more...outlandish forms of revenge. A curse to cause unending nightmares as it puts them to sleep for good; an “accident” that leaves them both blind and deaf and crippled for life; the red hero held down, helpless to watch as you break every one of his brother’s bones one by one by one.

But those ideas, while satisfying, still aren't enough. You haven’t gotten this far in life without a reliable and fine-tuned cruel streak, and in that fine-tuning you’ve learned cruelty is a dish best served cold. So you let those short-sighted scenarios pass you by, sorting through the chaff for the perfect one.

You also know cruelty is a dish best made to the servee’s tastes, and for that, you need intel. You haven't needed a wand to cast simple spells since you’d learned to walk, so it’s trivial to attach little eavesdropping charms to the food trays and cutlery those fungal peons bring to you at mealtimes. Emphasis on little, because while you have been doing magic longer than any of these imbeciles had been alive, you know the Princess, at least, isn't as much of an idiot as the rest of them regarding magical matters, and you haven't gotten this far in life without a healthy dose of caution.

So you do what you do best — you listen, and you learn. Those brothers visit the castle often, and thus you find the red one hadn't actually escaped King Bowser’s final attack unscathed; apparently, his voice box is forfeit. The world forever spared of that idiot’s worthless blathering...for the first time since waking up imprisoned, a ghost of a smile curls up on your face. Even in death, your King’s vicious nature still prevails. You’d taught him well.

And, in a lucky break, you manage to eavesdrop on your King’s murderer well enough to catch the guilt in his voice when talking about the state of his brother. You take a risk and upgrade the charm to give you visuals, and you see with your own eyes the self-condemnation lining his shoulders. The sight is enough for the second grin of your prison stay. But it isn’t enough to satisfy you completely; you need it to hurt more. Nonetheless, you could still use this; the only reason King Bowser’s blow had landed — besides his unrivaled combat prowess — was because his initial target had been too busy cowering in fear to see the strike coming.

Without access to your spellbooks, it takes a while for the perfect idea to manifest. But that’s fine; you haven’t gotten this far in life without a wealth of patience. You mentally flip through them, one by one, for the perfect spell to make those humans pay, as you bide your time for an opportunity to escape.

And the perfect inspiration comes months later; after months of awful prison food and taunting from the guards and absolutely no privacy, you sit next to the light of the moon, thinking about your late King. Not in a moment of weakness, as someone soft-hearted would assume, but of the power vacuum he’d left in his wake. To be filled by whatever schmuck made a big enough power play, by the circumstances. You frown imagining it, a headache half-budding in your temples. If you were a lesser man, this would be when you would wish to do anything to have King Bowser back to take his rightful place once again. But you are greater, so you merely cast that thought aside; when you return to the Darklands you’ll find some poor saps to use as fodder for whatever revival ritual you’ll perform to get King Bowser back to his glorious, living self.

But...you do know someone lesser. Many people, in fact. One person in particular, however, would be perfect to cast in a certain role. And there’s another who would be an excellent fit for the tragic hero of this upcoming tale. And you won't even have to hatch another escape plan to direct it!

Originally, the spell you’re thinking of was something to cast on oneself in a saccharine moment of self-sacrifice for a loved one, but you know better. So you spend the next week or so keeping to yourself, those pathetic excuses for guards long since bored of you, recalling the exact shape of the incantation you need, building your magic reserves as much as you can to cast the spell itself the way you want to, knowing your slight magical atrophy and the lack of magical focus would make things marginally difficult. Or rather, it would have made things marginally difficult, if you weren't the greatest wizard alive.

As such, soon enough, with the moon sitting high yet hidden in the night sky and almost a year to the day since King Bowser was killed, you deem yourself ready.

In the darkness, you kneel on the metal floor of your cage. With a deep breath, you close your eyes and focus your attention inward. You think of your King, that look on his face, the last look you had seen on him while he was still alive. The look he probably died wearing. Surprised. Agonized. Frightened.

The vowels and consonants of your native language fall from your lips easily; low, whispered, with the barest of shaking as you concentrate. You feel the spell reach out to you, wanting you to pay your price. You feel it reach out beyond you, toward the Darklands, wanting to restore what was lost in exchange.

But you aren't a lesser man, so you don't give it the chance. You gather your magic and push it away, away out of the room, towards the magical signature you want it to latch on to instead. While the act of doing so is simple, it still costs a fair bit of energy, and without your wand you’re left panting from the effort of avoiding becoming ensnared by the spell yourself. You’d chosen it for a reason, a reason that was rather deadly. It wouldn't do to fail now.

The moon sits high in the sky and the rest of the world is asleep, so you shift to a better sitting position and lean back against the bars of your cage. You feel the traces of magic stretch out toward where you sent the spell, winding down pathways and weaving between buildings, to a little house in a town, to a certain murderer’s sleeping form. They’ll figure out what you’ve done sooner rather than later, you know. And with the spell you’ve cast banned in every country and scrubbed from every text published in the last century, they will have to come to you to learn how to break it. Not that you’ll tell them, of course.

So now, all there’s left to do is wait. Wait for them to come with their distress and their anger and their paltry threats. Wait for their tears, their denial, their attempts to bargain with you. And as the only one with answers, you’ll be free to give the ones that would only send them further into despair.

As your magical exhaustion ushers you to sleep, a cold smile dances on your face. You haven't gotten this far in life without patience and cruelty, after all. And it looks like both are about to pay off.

You can hardly wait for it.

#again sorry not sorry i have the wrong blorbo lmao #y'all keep giving kamek the most awesome plans only to have them fail at the last second #it's very sad :(#(i jest)#(keep being awesome y'all <3)#mlv.fic #smb #kamek

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yalocalfanficaddict · 5 months

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*vibrating to the point of combusting over the need to write something and title it with a Hozier song/lyric*

Ayo, new music obsession just dropped! Here's a random prompt list of Hozier stuff because my mind is rotting! Anything with Pt 1 and Pt 2 beside it, is just complimentary titles for potential series titles.

Take me to church:

Giggle At A Funeral

Born Sick

Like A Dog At The Shrine

Offer Me Your Deathless Death

Take Me To Church (A lil obvious with this one, but just imagine the Corpse Bride AU's)

My Lover's The Sunlight (Pt 1)

She Demands A Sacrifice (Pt 2)

This is Hungry Work

No Masters Or Kings (Pt 1)

When The Ritual Begins (Pt 2)

THERE IS NO SWEETER INNOCENCE THAN OUR GENTLE SIN (THE ANGST FOR THIS ONE *folds*)

Let Me Give You My Life

Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene:

Toying Somewhere Between Love And Abuse (Please just hit me with the back of a metal chair) (and by metal chair I mean angst)

The Wretched And Joyful

Shaking The Wings Of Their Terrible Youth (Arch-angels? Anybody?)

Freshly Disowned...Frozen Devotion

Sweetened Breath And Tongue So Mean (Removed pronouns for inclusivity)

Feeling More Human

I Lay My Heart Down (Pt 1)

It's Bloody It's Raw, But I Swear It's Sweet (Pt 2)

Wonder If Better Now Having Survived (Pt 1)

I'm Alive (Pt 2)

Jackie and Wilson:

From Behind The Red In My Eyes (Literally any character with red eyes will rule this title)

No Better Version Of Me

Most Familiar of Swine (Enemies to Lovers WHERE YOU AT??)

Wretched And Divine (I don't watch Good Omens, but think of the potential!!!!)

Laughing Away Through My Feeble Disguise

Found Me Just In Time

My Mid-Youth Crisis All Said And Done (Pt 1)

Never Felt So Young (Pt 2)

Call Me "Baby"

Hands Through My Hair

Soothe Me Daily

Raise 'Em On Rhythm And Blues

It'd Be Great To Find A Place We Could Escape Sometime

Dead And Buried In The Yard Outside

Watch The World Go By (Pt 1)

Watch It Burn And Rust (Pt 2)

It Wasn't For Us (Pt 3????)

Cut Clean From The Dream (Childhood Friends To Strangers???)

Let My Mind Reset

Looking Up From A Cigarette

Someone New:

Don't Take This The Wrong Way

You Knew Who I Was (Pt 1)

Every Step I Ran To You (Pt 2)

Electing Strange Perfections

Just A Little Ol' Little Bit

Everyday With Someone New (Here me out...Soulmate AU)

(There's An) Art To Life's Distractions (Pt 1)

The Art Of Scraping Through (Pt 2)

Some Like To Imagine

I Guess Any Thrill Will Do (Grumpy x Sunshine adventure!)

My Heart's Already Sinned

How Pure, How Sweet A Love

'Cause God Knows I Fall In Love (Denial for their feelings >>>)

The Stranger The Better

To Be Alone:

Never Feel Too Good In Crowds (Angst? Trauma Recovery?)

Crude And Proud Creatures Baying

All I've Ever Done Is Hide

When You Kill The Lights And Kiss My Eyes (FORBIDDEN LOVERS!!!!!)

I Feel Like A Person For A Moment Of My Life (Pt 1)

But You Don't Know What Hell You Put Me Through (Pt 2)

Kiss The Skin That Crawls From You

Oh, To Be Alone With You (Pt 1)

Questions I Can't Ask (Pt 2)

At Last, The Worst Is Over (BANANA FISH IF THEY HAD A HAPPY ENDING) (I'M SOBBING)

Not A Trace Of Me Would Argue (Whipped characters be like)

We Should Run Away

From Eden:

Something So Tragic About You (Please combine the next few lines as Pt 1s, 2s, 3s, etc. as you see fit!)

Something So Magic About You

Something Lonesome About You

Something Wholesome About You

Get Closer To Me

No Time For Me

You're Familiar Like My Mirror Years Ago

Idealism Sits In Prison

Chivalry Fell On It's Sword

Innocence Died Screaming

Something So Wretched About This (Hozier's favourite word unlocked lol)

Where To Begin?

What A Sin

To Hang From A Tree

In a Week (Ft. Karen Cowley):

I Have Never Known Peace

Like These Insects That Feast On Me

Our Heartbeats Becoming Slow

(We Lay Here) For Years Or For Hours (HANAHAKI WRITERS PLEASE HEAR ME OUT)

Two Corpses We Were (Pt1)

Two Corpses I Saw (Pt 2)

I'd Be Home With You (Could be used as a Hurt/Comfort or a Hurt/No Comfort)

The Slumber That Creeps To Me

I Have Never Known Color (Soulmate AU!!)

Flesh Calmly Going Cold

Your Hand In My Hand

So Still And Discreet

When The Weather Gets Hot

After The Foxes Have Known Our Taste (Pt 1)

After The Raven Has Had It's Say (Pt 2)

Sedated:

Just A Little Rush

To Feel Dizzy, To Derail The Mind

My Heart's In Atrophy

Nursing On A Poison That Never Stung (Pt 1)

Our Teeth And Lungs Are Lined From The Scum Of It (Pt 2)

We Are Deaf (Pt 1)

We Are Numb (Pt 2)

Something Isn't Right (Trapped in an Alternate Universe, anyone?)

Little Words

Slaves To Any Semblance Of Touch (Touched Starved Character's are gonna have a field day with this one lol)

We Should Quit But We Love It So Much (Never meant to be romances >>>)

Come And Save Me From It? (THE QUESTION MARK IS WHAT MAKES ME GO FERAL AHSBWBEDKSI)

Drag Me Away From It

Work Song:

Workin' On Empty

I Just Think About My Baby

I Could Barely Eat

Nothing Sweeter Than My Baby

Once From The Cherry Tree

Give Me Toothaches Just From Kissin' Me

When My Time Comes Around (Pt 1)

Lay Me Gently In The Cold Dark Earth (Pt 2) (THE ANGSSTTTTT)

Three Days On Drunken Sin (We aaaall know the smut writers will have a field day with this one, haha!)

An Empty Crib

No Grave Can Hold My Body Down

What My Hands And My Body Done

If The Lord Don't Forgive Me

Heaven And Hell Were Words To Me

Like Real People Do:

Why Were You Digging? (Pt 1)

What Did You Bury (Pt 2)

Those Hands Pulled Me From The Earth

(I Will Not Ask You) Where You Came From

Kiss Like Real People Do (AHKUDHUSdHBE JUST IMAGINE THE POTENTIAL-)

Eyes Always Seeking

In Some Sad Way, I Already Know

It Will Come Back:

You Know Better, Babe

Talk To It Like That (My mind went STRAIGHT to the gutter when I read it out of context)

Don't Give It A Hand, Offer A Soul

Leave It To The Land

Don't Let It In With No Intentions To Keep It

It Will Come Back

Smile At Me Like That

Hold Me

I'm Something Else When I See You (Myyy heaaart!!! Grumpy x Sunshine title for sure!!)

You Don't Understand, You Should Never Know

How Easy You Are To Need

It Can't Be Unlearned

The Warmth Of Your Doorways

Oh, Please, Give Me Mercy No More (WHUMP POTENTIAL!!!)

A Kindness You Can't Afford

Howling Outside Your Door

Foreigner's God:

Moved In Shameless Wonder

The Perfect Creature Rarely Seen

When The Land Was Godless And Free

Into The Empty Parts Of Me

My Heart Is Heavy

Always A Well Dressed Fraud

Never For Me

The Purest Expression Of Grief (HEAR ME OUT!! HEAR ME OUT!!)

Tender Charm

The Broken Love I Made To Them (Changed pronouns for inclusivity!)

Foreign To Me

Cherry Wine:

Eyes And Words Are So Icy

Like Rum On A Fire

Hot And Fast And Angry (Mad smut mad smut mad smut mad smut mad-)

I Walk My Days On A Wire

Oh Mama, Don't Fuss Over Me

The Blood Is Rare And Sweet As Cherry Wine (*glances at the Twilight fandom nervously*)

The Sheets Of Some Other

But I Want It, It's A Crime

Not Around Most Of The Time

I'm Their's And They're Mine (Inclusivity!!)

Fight And Fury Is Fiery

Loves Like Sleep To The Freezing

Sweet And Right And Merciful

It's Worth It (Pt 1)

It's Divine (Pt 2)

In The Woods Somewhere:

My Head Was Warm, My Skin Was Soaked

When I Awoke, The Moon Still Hung

The Darkness Hummed

I Prayed My Mind Be Good To Me

Into The Trees With Empty Hands

His Bone Exposed, His Hind Was Lame, I Raise A Stone To End His Pain (A lil long, but I think it sounds nice✨)

What Caused The Wound?

To Save A Life I Didn't Have

Forgot All Prayers Of Joining You

My Dearest Love, I'm Not Done Yet

Something In The Woods Somewhere

Run:

Rare Is This Love, Keep It Covered (FORBIDDEN LOVERS!!! I'LL DIE ON THIS HILL OF THIS BEING THE BEST TROPE)

Run To Me, Lover

Until You Feel Your Lungs Bleeding (HANAHAKI?? HANAHAKI!!)

To Be Twisted By Something (A knife? A rope? Possibilities are endless!)

A Shame Without A Sin

Rushing To The Shore To Meet

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lowkeyclueless5137 · 3 months

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The JJK mild au! :D

Because I just want to put the skrunklily through the horrors ™.

Will I have comfort? Will I follow Gege's footsteps and crush any hope of your fave ever catching the light of day in this Au? Welp... Only one way to find out. :3c

Again, if you know jjk, you know the absolute mountain of trigger warnings that will follow this Au. If not, I have a short list with the most proeminent: gore, murder, a lot of unhinged and messed up things... Yep. No one is spared. -3-

And we follow our wittle, tiny Jade this time! Man, I sure hope this one doesn't succumb to the horrors. :3c

So with everything outta the way... You get my pure, unfiltered and unedited thoughts with this Au. It's not like it's a difference from other Au Explanations I have. :'3

Also! I'll have to give u a fair warning: there will be brief spoilers for the anime in here, so I advise you to proceed with caution. I won't tag them, but I will mention certain big events. So when you see a mention of the event you last are up with, it's your cue to click off. :3

There will be also spoilers for book 7 in here so ya know... :3

We start off with bg: Jujutsu sorcerers were all around the world, but Japan had the biggest concentration of curses, hence why the most powerful sorcerers were there along with the elders, main Council organ. To exert some sort of order around, on other continents were instaurated sub-councils with other elders in charge of those matters. Only when very world end-level problems occur do these news reach the main elders and action is throughly taken. There are, ofc, student exchanges and a lot of multicultural trading in those continents as they are big areas who have to concentrate on the place with most curses.

That is your bg for now. This Au takes place in parallel with JJK's plot. Like imagine it starts in between JJK 0's Aftermath and Yuji eating the cursed finger events. Doesn't mean things won't get correlated, so you'll get mentions of the anime events.

We follow Jade. Now Jade was someone who lived quite cozy with his parents, following his local high-school. His brother was given a scholarship to a prestigious school in France and for 2 years Jade didn't see him. He did keep in touch via daily calls. His brother was sending him an abundance of messages and photos, but after his first year, he started to slowly lose contact, to the point Jade had no contact with his brother for some good months. It felt like something was wrong, but Jade assumed that things picked up some pace and his brother was trying to keep it up.

It was the start of school tho, when Jade got the news that his parents were coming home from work, when they got in a car accident. None of them survived, as such the news were given to Jade by his homeroom teach.

He was keeping his calm and he did try to reach his brother, but again, no contact. His teacher informed that his only relatives who could take them in were his aunt and uncle in Japan. Jade still asked for him to not be given a grace period to mourn as he will be fine. What he wants tho, is to get in contact with his brother. He was assured that his brother is likely to be informed as well by his school teachers and he will attend the funeral.

Floyd did not attend the funeral. Instead, an old family friend, Azul, attended. He was from France, but did not mention anything about Floyd. Jade's worries start to skyrocket as something clearly was wrong. Still, he kept his usual Demandour, which gained fear from other students, who couldn't believe Jade was acting like normal when his parents just kicked the bucket. And in a car accident too! So it wasn't something that could be pre-derminated and made peace with that easy.

One day, Jade stood after hours, packing some of his things for his imment move to Japan, when he caught glimpse of someone trespassing. Usually he wouldn't mind it.

But the trespasser looked awfully similar to someone that appeared multiple times in Floyd's photos. The latter did talk about the guy and Jade knew that he was supposed to be in France, not in here, in the east. It was on the whole other side of Europe!

So Jade pursues the guy, finding out he's named Jamil. The guy had with him some small thing that he was frantically trying to wrap in some seal bandage. He was hurrying and as such, Jade took him by surprise.

Jamil almost called out to Floyd, looking as if he saw a ghost, to which Jade took as another red flag. He inquired to know why Jamil was here and what was he doing with whatever that was. The latter was all tensed up and clearly ready to attack Jade, but he suddenly halted and rushed inside the school without any warning.

Jade didn't have any idea what was going on, but all he knew was that the school was getting trashed by an invisible force that Jamil apparently could see and could interact with. He seemed eager to protect whatever that thing was, but he dropped it and Jade picked it up.

It was a finger. Jade had a very bad feeling about it, but apparently whatever that invisible force was knocked him into a wall and thus the finger ended up in Jade's mouth. With the need for air, the latter swallowed the finger in an attempt at clearing his throat and taking a breath. He couldn't spit it because his mouth was holded close by the invisible force.

And slowly, Jade saw the invisible thing gaining a figure. It was a monster, looking more like a bunch of formless flesh moving around, with a big mouth darted with fangs, ready to eat Jade up, but thing suddenly went black.

Meanwhile, for Jamil, imagine his horror when he saw the curse blasted from inside out and Jade there, but with marks lining his body. 4 eyes looked at Jamil, which shaped into an all infamous grin as it wasn't Jade anymore, but someone else, someone who immediately butchered that curse.

And Jamil wanted to fight the new guy, but he gets stopped when the marks and 2nd pair of eyes dissappear and Jade finds himself in the middle of the whole mess, absolutely confused about what happened.

To add salt to the wound, Azul shows up. Jamil looks absolutely done with the latter, who apparently, was his teacher. Jade did inquire to know what the actual fuck is going on, because he thought he would die in here, only to find his jacket and tie ripped to shreds and in the middle of a crater made in the school floor.

Azul only inspects a bit Jade, asking very odd questions such as: do you feel wierd? Do your sides feel crammed? Is your teeth hurting? Do you carve meat? Questions which got all a prompt no from Jade. He only says that he feels a need to sleep, to which Azul reassures that he should succumb to it.

The second Jade closes his eyes, the marks reappear, the eye colors switch, an adițional pair of eyes open and nails grow longer. The new person Azul refers to as Floyd, who didn't look happy the slightest at the sight of the latter, accusing him of being a backstabber.

So Azul holds up his point that he was helpless in that situation, all the while dodging Floyd's attacks. Jamil is watching because Azul forbid him from getting into the fight, rather he watched what exactly was a special grade capable of. Floyd seemed more cautious than before, which allowed Azul to easily knock him out.

When Jade wakes up, he's in a very cold room, littered with seals as his hands are tied heavily. In front of him, Azul was standing and clearly found the situation as amusing as Jade did. The younger one asked what in the world is going on, to which Azul replies that Jade is oddly calm for the situation that he is in.

Then he moves aside, revealing that behind him, there was someone else tied up, facing Jade. Unlike Jade tho, the said person was tied by every limb, with heavy chains, their hands sealed in a metal box, impossible to see from inside. What was more or less wierd were the fins the person had on their body, which were quite big and sharp, almost like knives.

Jade tho, recognised the teal hair and the frame. It was Floyd, his very own twin brother.

Before Jade could even sink in the info, Azul explains that Floyd was here because he discovered a forbidden ritual. He achieved something that was believed to be almost impossible: a complete metamorphosis into a curse. Hence why the inhuman appearance.

Azul adds that the European council of elders deemed Floyd as 'the next sukuna' and in fear of him betraying them, they sealed him away and cut his fingers, in hopes they could use them as cursed artefacts and thus use them to keep curses around a bit more tamed, just how Japan used Sukuna's fingers for the exact purpose. So far, Floyd's situation is one of a sealed curse, thus he shouldn't be a problem anymore.

What the council disregarded tho, was Azul, who wanted to know how exactly his student achieved such thing. And Jade was the answer. He tells Jade that now Floyd's consciousness moved into Jade and he could take control any time he deems fit. Jade didn't have enough cursed energy before so Floyd's sudden overtake spiked it up, hence he could see his brother now.

Jade only demands to be freed. For him and his brother to be freed, but Azul denies him of that. He says that if the council finds out that Jade ate a cursed finger and currently is a vessel for Floyd, they will execute him. But, Azul promises that he will free Jade on one condition: Comply with his terms, keep this whole ordeal a secret and help him find out how this metamorphosis was achieved. It was something revolutionary after all. It wasn't a reincarnation, rather something else. And Azul wanted to find out what.

Jade has to accept, but he puts his own condition: that Azul will do anything in his power to free his brother. With these, the deal is made and Azul frees Jade from his imprisonment. Not before knocking him out first. :3

And while knocked out, Jade finds himself on soft sand, in a sort of underwater like place. Everything felt lighter and even fishes and other sea creatures swam around, some even passing through Jade.

And that's also when he hears and sees Floyd again.

The latter had the same marks on his body, but only his ear fins and claws were present. He mentions how this is not what he had in mind for a reunion, but is taken aback when Jade hugs him and tells him that he missed the funeral. That their parents died and now both were supposed to be under their aunt's custody.

Floyd, unlike how Azul warned that curses are quite unfazed by death, tears up at the news and at first tries to play it off as just a very lame joke from his brother. But it was real. And when the confirmation is made, Jade could see how the place darkened and fishes around fleed. Floyd bursted into tears and Jade could do oh so much but to hug him and pat his back. The latter begged for Jade to do anything but get in trouble, but it was too late.

Both were aware of the deal Jade had with Azul and as such, both knew that if they wanted to be back together and safe, they would have to fight against the system.

So while at that, Floyd decides to fill Jade in with everything. He was currently in Floyd's domain: Eden's Abyss. Floyd explains the basics of jujutsu and gives to Jade an insight on what he should expect.

But what Floyd adds is the way the council works here, in Europe. In Japan things were far more straightforward, with bloodlines being preserved for their jujutsu techniques. In here it was a whole amalgam of who has and who doesn't. Since jujutsu is a hereditary trait, Floyd clears out that there one of their ancestors was a jujutsu sorcerer. The gene just wasn't awakened in anyone until Floyd himself.

What Floyd makes clear was that in Europe, the council was made out of the most whealty jujutsu sorcerers. They primarily used their money to establish their own monopoles and as such use them to hide the actual activities of jujutsu sorcerers.

Right now, Floyd gave to Jade 3 important names: The Asims, the Shrouds and Crowley. He adds that unfortunately, the strongest European sorcerer is Malleus Draconia, whose grandma was kicked out of the council, following her daughter's actions years ago.

Floyd made it clear that he hates Crowley especially, since he was the one who gave the decree of sealing him away.

Jade asks what he's supposed to do to free his brother. Floyd admits that it's not that simple, since without his cursed power, which was sealed in the fingers, he would be as good as dead meat the second he's freed from those chains. He doesn't know where fingers are scattered, but if Jade has one, he should search for the rest. Once he gets all of them, Floyd promises he'll 'handle it from there'. He should nudge Azul into searching for the fingers, since he would know most likely where most of them were.

After that plan is devised, the 2 actually do chat and catch up with one another. Until Floyd deems that enough time passed and Jade should wake up. As such Jade is kicked out of the domain and back into consciousness.

Jade wakes up on a couch, in a notably very large living room. Azul notes how he woke up and that his husbands are gone to work now, so Jade will have time to get filled with his chores.

Azul made some mending so that Jade is unofficially participating under his courses as a jujutsu teacher. He is not allowed to go on campus ground, nor is he allowed to have a dorm room, so in the mean time, Jade will be a guest in Azul's penthouse and do chores when the latter has work on the school campus.

For now, Azul presents around and gets Jade to understand that at the moment he's in fricking Paris and since he doesn't know French, it would be a bit of a hard time to do errands outside. Azul was, ofc, prepared for this, saying that he always had his students who don't know French use sum flashcards at first. They were some pretty simple ones, with translation on the back of them.

Jade notes how he talked with Floyd while he was unconscious. At that, Azul perks up, asking if by chance, Floyd could hear them. Jade indeed confirms that his twin can hear what he hears and see what Jade sees. Floyd just chooses not to bother with the latter.

Azul exhales and starts by saying that if Floyd is wondering about the fingers, that is the problem: Azul was denied of knowing anything about the fingers. Jamil, his student, was sly enough to get sum Intel about one and hence his meeting with Jade. Currently the fingers are used to draw in one place curses before they would be properly turned into seals.

But, for the meantime, this is everything Jade shall know about.

That night, Jade caught Azul talking over the phone with his husbands, seemingly being upset over something. Jade doesn't pry as the latter only serves him dinner, opting to not eat too before going to bed. Floyd also seems to not know what's going on with Azul and his love life, but he assumes something was up.

First days were Azul teaching Jade basics in jujutsu control, all the while Jade gets to know Azul's other 2 students: Kalim and Jamil. Kalim is a sunshine and Jamil is just a resting bitch face on main. :'3

Jamil tries to 'educate' Jade on Azul, saying that this guy makes place for owning a restaurant, teaching jujutsu sorcery and also being overly flamboyant and dramatic. He absolutely hates Azul's guts and would rather have been teacher by the other teach at the school: Lilia Vanrogue. Unfortunately that old guy has already 2 pupils under him. And Jamil wholeheartedly believed that he could beat both of the 'elite' students and impress Vanrogue, but Azul still won't give him an opportunity to meet a sorcerer who could promote him to a grade 2 or more.

Kalim tho seemed pretty happy with his grade 3.

At first Jade his hand in trying out to fight curses around. To ensure that Floyd won't go apeshit every fucking time Jade's on a mission, Azul gave to the latter a grade 3 cursed weapon, to have everyone on the same foot somewhat. He would stay with them and always be in a close proximity in case of anything. Afterwards, if they did a good job, the latter would treat them to something nice from his restaurant menu.

One day, Jade is sent to do errands when he stumbles upon a bakery. The guy at the cashier was one year older than Jade, who introduced himself as Trey. He was pretty nice and even gave to Jade a croissant on the house part, saying that he looks awfully similar to a buddy of his friend.

Unfortunately, a curse also was in proximity. And unfortunately, Jade thought it would be short work since it looked weak. It didn't do anything, only move around in the ground and avoiding being stepped on by unsuspecting people.

Jade followed it, getting himself to meet much more stronger curses. Of course, trying to retreat proved futile and Floyd deemed it necessary to take over and finish off the curses in question. Still the fact that he was only at 1 finger power and overnumbered meant he didn't get out unscratched, hence Jade found himself with a much longer stay in the Eden's Abyss.

When Jade wakes up, the first person he sees is a very annoyed Azul, who nags him about getting into danger. The good part was that Floyd took over and stumbled upon another special grade who could heal the body itself.

The good news: they found a finger and the condition they could use to track the others.

Bad news: Riddle found out. And boy is he NOT happy of the whole ordeal.

Jade does inquire to know who tf is Riddle, to which it comes the response: Riddle is the special grade curse who can take on a human form. His job is to act like a healer for the European jujutsu society and in return he's not immediately killed.

Riddle himself was also there and immediately gives a forehead flick to Jade, nagging him for drawing curses near the bakery. The bakery is a place Riddle usually frequents as Trey is his friend as such is a ground 0, where curses rarely gather up. With the lately spike in them, Riddle was more around the place. But Jade's presence itself made the finger to react and thus act like a sort of caller for curses around.

Azul brings up that he will have to bribe some other sorcerers around the aera to not say a thing about the finger missing. He had calls non-stop and he blames Jade for wondering aimlessly after curses.

After that thing, Azul gets an order from the higher-ups to investigate a 'grade 2' curse with his students, which was roaming through the catacombs.

Surprise, surprise, it's a special grade. Now Azul would've been fine if it was just one, but no. There were multiple, all spread through the catacombs. Floyd insisted, multiple times, for his brother to let him take over, but Jade was stubborn, his recent nagging still pushing him to prove that he could deal with things without his brother needing to take over.

Jade almost dies so Floyd forcefully takes over in order to try and preserve what little life was left in the body.

It ends again, with Riddle whining about Jade being even more stubborn than his brother, while Azul clearly paces around and Kalim with Jamil try to calm tf down their teacher.

Meanwhile, Floyd confronts his brother his domain. Really both of them could've been gone for, to which Jade replies that Floyd still had 8 other fingers to use to get free.

Floyd says that he doesn't want to be free if he knows his one and only brother died because of him.

And this is what apparently breaks Jade down enough to sob aloud and cry about the fact that he almost died in there. He didn't want to die. He didn't want Floyd to die. He didn't want anyone in his family to die anymore. Why was that such a hard task?

Floyd really didn't know what to say to comfort his twin. He was blunt: Jade is though, but he shouldn't push to the very end. Leave things to him when it gets overwhelming.

A thing to note about Floyd, now that Jade had 3 out of 10 fingers, was that he was a bit more closer to the form Jade first saw chained up. It was a sign that the latter was growing in power.

And it showed also through other things, such as sometimes popping up on Jade's cheek as an eye with a mouth to speak outloud or sometimes controlling one of Jade's hands to show a sign or smth. It wasn't that drastic, but it was smth.

Meanwhile, Azul got a concerning call, which put him in a quite foul mood for the whole week. It showed in a much harsher training and overall not being his usual dramatic self.

What was the reason? His husbands came back. Jade initially thought it was something to be happy about, since those were his husbands after all. He never saw the 2 up until now.

No, Azul was mad because of WHY these 2 came back.

And it's painfully obvious when Jade sees for the first time Idia and Malleus, both looking quite apologetic. Alas, despite his raging need to scream and let his frustrations loose, Azul forgave them, which was surprising to Jade. Being an old family friend, Jade had his fair share of times where Azul got angry and boy does he not forgive that easy.

Idia was a grade one with his cursed weapon which housed inside Ortho. Malleus was a special grade due to his jujutsu technique and his domain expansion: Fae of Maleficene.

The latter insists on why Jade is here and Azul admits that Jade is Floyd's twin and thus he is taking care of him. Idia does raise a brow at that, but doesn't question, saying that the council found out that he was with Yuuta and helping him with working with Rika. Yuuta had to prepare for a leave when news about Sukuna reincarnating reached around, along with the Shibuya incident. Hence they decided to have Idia train some first years, while Malleus is entrusted with exterminating the 'curses hospots' caused by the fingers. It was supposed to be a secret mission, but clearly Malleus couldn't lie to anyone to save his ass.

As such, for starters, Azul insists for Jade to tag along with Malleus. He isn't actually repartised as any kind of student so him laying off the radar, under Malleus, will be a perfect way to keep at least a worry off.

As for Idia, Azul brought up how he didn't really know about the first years given to the latter. Idia admits that maybe their son did turn over a new leaf and things would be better.

Jade had no fricking idea Azul had a kid to start with.

Entering the first years coming to Paris. Unlike Jade's expectation to be 2 or 3, these mfs were 5 in number. And all were quite a bunch. From the discussion about them, Jade expected that the lavender haired one or the ginger to be the son in question, since they were more rowdy.

No, it was Deuce, the quiet bluenette, who seemed very happy to see again his parents.

Idia did take the first years with him, since they would stay at the dorms and Azul had to bid farewell to Jade for a while as now he had to follow Malleus around.

And it was awkward af. The latter was painfully blunt in everything. The pure truth was always given. As such, Jade took a leap of fate and asked about Deuce.

Malleus admits that Deuce is not a biological child, rather Deuce was found after an incident with a curse. He was small, around 2 or 3 and Azul was the one that found him. His mother was killed by said curse and the child unknowingly thought she fell asleep, so he was trying to wake her up because he was scared of the 'monster' in his room.

Malleus admits that maybe it was his and Idia's skepticism of the situation at start that may have nudged Deuce to grow into a delinquent and thus be sent to a boarding school as a last resort. But Azul missed him dearly and was heartbroken to know that the council was expecting for Deuce to become a jujutsu sorcerer hence why they made the papers in secret to transfer Deuce from the said school. No one is very proud of their status as a sorcerer in here. If you don't have money or the immense luck to be born in a family of the council, any mistake can be fatal.

With that out of the way, Jade is assisting Malleus with dealing with the curses hotspots, but they find no fingers. Something clearly was amiss.

Even Floyd was restless, telling his brother that he is sensing something wrong. He doesn't know what, but his gut is rarely wrong, so he asks of Jade to be on his toes in case of anything.

Things clearly were becoming more weirder. Azul apparently reported an increase in grade 1 curses and so far, the council dispatched Azul's team to all of them, as if expecting 2 grade 3 sorcerers to deal with that. He tried to take it with Lilia, but the latter admits that his students were given awfully simple missions. They were working lately with grade 4s and it was clear with each day that his students had to train separately to keep their skills sharp.

Then Idia comes, with his own report. His students were on a mission with a supposed grade 1. I say supposed, because Idia himself returned with a huge wound across his torso and the rest thankfully escaped with smaller ones, only because Ortho was aiding. Idia concludes that something is amiss with the curses labeling since what they exorcised there was a special grade.

Riddle also had his plate full, as being the only one who could use reverse cursed technique and heal others. He was a curse himself, but he has his limits too, you know?

Now when Jade talked with Jamil and Kalim, the 2 admit that now they know why Azul was so skeptical on a promotion. Jamil remembered that Floyd got himself a promotion to semi-grade 1 back before he became a curse and they were suddenly having a less of a spike in difficulty. It was Azul's scheme of training them without the council intervening too much. Silver and Ruggie, Lilia's students, were currently semi-grade 1 and grade 2 respectively.

It also implies that, for some reason, the council aims to exterminate the lower grades.

And for this, we suddenly get an announcement from the council: the one who kills Jade Leech will get promoted to grade 1 sorcerer and gain a seat in the council itself.

You can imagine Jade's absolute shock upon finding out this. It was a hunt for him of all people and to make matters worse, it was mentioned that currently he has no cursed technique or enough cursed energy to even see curses. The others would see Jade as already dead, a short work of you will.

The problem, clearly was Azul, who was protecting Jade.

And this is made painfully clear when Azul suddenly decides that they have to flee to Italy. They still had 6 fingers to find as Jade and Malleus uncovered 1 during their expeditions together. Idia offered to take Kalim and Jamil under his wing for as long as Azul needs to be gone.

Jade insists tho, that he can manage. He has Floyd by his side and he could deal with those sorcerers who desperately want that place in the council. Azul denies him of going alone, knowing that they are talking about multiple people who chase after the spot. From grade 3 to 1, everyone wants a spot in the council. It's the only way to assure one's future for the rest of their life.

But, they don't even get to leave Paris, that already chaos unleashed. Many sorcerers were simply hunting for each other in order to eliminate competition, which in turn got non-sorcerers to run around in panic and try to flee the sudden wierd disasters. Paris was big and crowded, which only allowed for more calamities to happen and thus more injured.

And that's also when the new decree is made: that Azul is a traitor for protecting Jade and thus he is also on the list for ramson.

It was all an elaborate plan to pin the blame on Azul and get rid of him once and for all.

Up until now, Jade never saw Azul's cursed technique. He only used a special grade weapon: Neptune's wrath, which seemed to do the job. But now, Jade gets to see upclose Azul's actual cursed technique: Replica, a technique which allows Azul to replicate to perfection other cursed techniques he sees. He replicated Riddle's Reverse cursed technique to heal himself and Jade mid battle, along with a bunch of others from different sorcerers.

This is also why Azul was a special grade. If only he sees a technique, he could immediately replicate it. It's an absolute broken ability and Jade wondered why Azul didn't use it so often.

But, with every sorcerer that comes their way, Jade is painfully made aware on why. It's either kill or be killed. Either they finish off the said sorcerer or manage to permanently immobilise them, or they will both die at the hand of the enemy.

Azul insisted for them to head to Italy, because in Rome is situated the council meeting place. They needed to get there and make justice with their own hands.

Unfortunately, people start allying together, which only makes more difficulty to flee the city. The airport was closed off due to the chaos and Paris itself was bordered around to 'keep the supranatural circumstances confined'.

At one moment, the 2 run into Vil, a grade 1 sorcerer with a unique cursed technique: Condition of beauty. He can put a condition on anything in his touch range and if the condition isn't met, Vil entraps the enemy who touched the object into a small charm prison. He can release them at will too, so one knows that Vil has at his disposal some effects, curses and even sorcerers he could summon in battle.

And Vil manages to catch Azul with his technique. Now, Jade expected wholeheartedly to be killed the second he saw Azul gone.

But Vil notes how Jade was able to see his technique. He saw the charms and the curses he released. And this goes against the council's claim that Jade is a normal guy.

As such, Vil gives to Jade, by force, 4 cursed fingers that he was initially told to dispatch. Vil used those to lure out curses, but now he had a pretty good idea that Azul protected Jade because of the finger that went missing in Jade's aera at first. He mentions how the staged accident surely got rid of half the problem for the council.

And something snaps in both of the twins. When Floyd takes over, he's downright rabid over the news that their parents's accident was staged. Why tf didn't Azul tell them that?!

Vil says that Azul is blacklisted from a lot of things. His husbands, students and the bribes he gives around are the only way he gets news of things. If he doesn't suspect something, he doesn't take action to find out.

Floyd does end up pinning Vil to the ground and inquiring why he should even think of sparing his life. The answer is simple: Vil has Azul and if Floyd kills him, all of the living things that were holded hostages in the charms will die.

Floyd does comply and gives the control back to Jade, who asks what does Vil gain out of it. The model says that he is sick and tired of the council and wants to get rid of them. And the only way that is assured, is if they awaken what they feared the most: Floyd. Floyd's main cursed technique: bounce off, is a technique which allows for any attack to ricochet off Floyd himself or something else he places his technique on. Since he became a curse, Floyd developed much more volatile attacks, whom became an actual threat to the council.

As such, Vil promises to only free Azul after Floyd will finish off the council.

Unfortunately, for them, they run into Deuce, who is more than mad over Azul being sealed. Add with the chaos that holds up Idia and others, it's clear that reasoning was hard to reach the latter.

In the end, Deuce dies... Not by Vil, Jade or Floyd, but because Vil unsealed Azul temporarily once an enemy ambushed them and took Deuce hostage. Seeing the special grade, the enemy immediately killed Deuce, using that as an attempt at a distraction, knowing that Azul would mourn his son. And he did do exactly that.

Except that Jade was the one who actually kills the enemy, as to not let them get away. Azul is absolutely devastated and Vil offers to seal him in a charm again, to not witness this. Azul wanted to deny, but Jade accepted for him, reasoning that if the sorcerers see only Jade and Vil keeps sum distance, they would assume Azul was taken care of and thus leave him in an advantage.

When asked where did Vil even bring them, the model says that he will bring them to the execution room, where Floyd's material body is kept. They had 8 fingers already. Vil deemed it enough to free Floyd.

Unfortunately, on the way, we have many others who kicked the bucket: Kalim(he tried to protect Jamil), Ruggie(he used himself as a distraction so the group could proceed), Sebek (sacrificed himself for Silver and Lilia), Ace(died when he fought a grade 1 sorcerer in an attempt at taking them away from the civilians). There were others such as Cater and Rook, whom Jade bearly meet, yet still they died for Vil.

Reaching, finally, the said room, Vil was the one who unsealed Floyd, the latter gaining slowly consciousness, yet he needed much more than that.

Imagine Jade's shock when his own brother stabbed him in order to get back his power. He still missed 2 fingers, thus he wasn't at his full potential, but he knew a bit of reverse curse technique to heal Jade back up.

Unfortunately, this is where Jade's supposed adventure should end. Floyd deemed that his brother did enough and this is now in between him and the council that sealed him away and planned to kill their parents. Jade, tho, denies of this, saying that he wants to avenge his parents too. That he wants to protect Floyd, that he didn't go through all this just to be told to sit back now, when it was clear it's needed any kind of help they could get.

What doesn't help them is that, this time, more sorcerers, the elite ones, were going around for them. Vil was killed, not before releasing everything in his charms with his last breath, thus unleashing a chaos of rampant curses. At least Azul was free, but at the cost of a lot of special grade curses reeking havoc around.

One of those curses was Floyd tho, who still was looking for his last 2 fingers. He felt their presence and demanded that he couldn't hunt down the council is he doesn't get the last 1.

One was hidden among the catacombs, which was an easy grab.

The other was at Lilia. :'3

And Lilia, clearly takes a jab at Azul for helping out the curse. He was always wary of Riddle, for curses have in their nature to feast upon one's suffering. Riddle was a curse on expectations. He thrived in here and he healed people just so he could thrive off their unfulfilled expectations. But Floyd? No one knew what kind of curse Floyd was. He used to be a human, but now he is a curse. A curse on what? What deep negative emotions could possibly Floyd be thriving from?

Unfortunately, Lilia was much more experienced than Azul, a fellow special grade with 1 technique: return to nature. Using that on Azul before he could copy it, immediately made the latter an easy kill.

Which, again, seemed to snap something in Jade. Floyd was leading the attack, but Jade was actually fighting and finishing off Lilia, via a stab in the throat.

Yet, despite their need to move on quick, Floyd allowed for them to stay a few minutes, once he saw Jade's tear full face. Floyd could only offer a hug and summon his domain, knowing that they are overwhelmed in this situation. He was back to his full power, but that was also with a price.

Jade does ask his brother, why did he become a curse in the first place? To look where they are now and tell him why did Floyd to that? Why did he give up on his humanity?

Floyd replies that he became a curse, that is meant to condamn all curses. His hatred of curses took roots and feed on other sorcerers's hatred. Already it was complicated and it only allowed for the whole process to be faster.

And now, Floyd tried feeding off his brother's hatred for this whole situation. He didn't find any hatred for curses, to which came the response: Jade could never hate his brother. He didn't hate curses, rather he hated the council, for the council was responsible for all of this.

And Floyd promises, while still in the hug, that he will do anything in his power to help Jade reach his goal.

And thus, it is born a binding vow in between the 2.

And here we finish off for now :3

With a cliffhanger, for all your hanging needs. :3

At the start, there were a lot of subplots: Azul's restaurant, Jamil wanting a promotion, Trey shenanigans... Then you slowly get even more once other students get introduced, only to have them end up with a halt when the hunt for Jade starts.

Theoretically, the twins doing their binding vow would happen around the time of the culling games arc in cannon JJK, so imagine that it's around that if you wonder what Yuji was up to during that time. :3

Welp... That would be all for now!

Until next time! Buh bye! :3

#twisted wonderland #jjk au #Damn everyone is starting nice and slow #And then half the cast hits the bucket -3-#There are book 7 spoilers #And a few for the Shibuya incident Aftermath #So that's everything to note #Also Jade's an interesting protagonist... :3 #It's fun to throw him through the horrors :3 #He broke down like 2 times in this whole thing

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