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soulmate-game · 3 years

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Curiosity Killed the Exorcist

“And then, see here? You have to be on the lookout for subtle signs like these. This indicates that he’s…” Marinette nodded as Tim continued explaining, pointing out various body language and other clues out on the Batcomputer. It had only been about six months since the Batfam collectively adopted the little ladybug into their menagerie of heroes, and started teaching her deductive habits and skills. She would not allow them anywhere near Paris on pain of death (some of them had already tried, and Bruce was still recovering from the bruise to his ego. The bruise on his ass from being teleported out of the city and onto the stone of the Batcave was gone, though) but she welcomed any help they could give from within Gotham’s city limits.

Usually, at least in the beginning, they did their mentorship at a distance over video call. But then Tim found out her identity, and Marinette made the excuse of wanting to meet with them in person to gauge their trustworthiness for herself and erase their memories of her identity if they failed her test— and, well, it all snowballed from there until she was teleporting to the Batcave every few days for detective lessons. She was practically a Bat herself, if not for her out of theme codename. And she found herself surprisingly comfortable with the thought of them being a… very eccentric extended family.

Tim was flipping to another saved video in the Batcomputer archives to show another example of his current lesson, when Tikki flew up to Marinette in a hurry. She was holding Kaalki’s glasses. The little kwami whispered something in Marinette’s ear, instantly making the teen blanch and force on the glasses.

“Sorry Timmy, gotta cut this short! I’ll come back tomorrow to make up for it! Okay? Okay! Awesome, you’re the best, bye!” She ignored all of Tim’s protests and rapid fire questions, instead opening up a portal and jumping through it as fast as humanly possible. The portal has barely disappeared before an all-too-familiar voice rose up from behind Tim.

“Maybe I’m still drunk, ‘cause I could’a sworn I just saw a portal closing in the damned Batcave, of all places,” the British-accented drawl was accompanied by the flick of a lighter and accompanying fizzle of a flame. Tim groaned, mentally making a note to ask how in the world Marinette had known that John “Annoying asshole” Constantine was showing up soon, and if he could be in on the warning next time. Bruce, cowl still off, walked over from where he had been sparring with Damian and crossed his arms. He had also heard Marinette’s hasty exit, and made a few mental notes of his own before focusing on the exorcist in front of him.

“What do you want, Constantine?” he grumbled. Any time the blond brit showed up, things only got far more complicated than he ever enjoyed. And he always gave Bruce a migraine, to boot.

“Two things actually, Batsy,” John held up to fingers as his free hand tucked his lighter away in his pocket. His unlit cigarette stayed in his mouth though, probably just for the familiar feel of it. “One; I’m gonna need you to tell me why there was a portal closing when I walked in, because I’ll be honest. The implications there are way more interesting than what I came here for in the first place.”

“None of your business. What’s the second thing?” Bruce immediately shot him down, but John was not one to be deterred. He never fucking was.

“But you hate magic! You make sure I know that all too bloody well every time I pay you a visit, so why the sudden change in heart? Huh?”

“Drop it, Constantine. What. Do you. Want?”

“Fine, fine. I need your help with…”

— * — * — * — * — *

A week later, Marinette was sitting with Jason and Damian in one of the manor’s sitting rooms, the three of them just minding their own business and silently enjoying one another’s presence. Even if two of them would never admit it. Jason was reading Jane Eyre for the millionth time, Damian was leaning against Titus on the ground as he sketched, and Marinette was embroidering a sunhat. Unfortunately for her, Alfred the Cat was currently asleep on her lap and thus holding her hostage.

Even as Tikki flew up to her ear in a panic and whispered, making Marinette prick herself with her needle. She hissed for a second but shrugged off the familiar pain, much more concerned with whatever news Tikki had given her. Damian and Jason were already on high alert from the second that a whispered curse had left her lips, and were staring straight at her and her kwami and Marinette frantically tried to find a way to get up without awakening the cat sleeping on her.

“Uh, what’s wrong?” Jason asked, feeling thoroughly confused and left out. On one hand, he knew that if they were in physical danger she would have moved Alfred the Cat without hesitation. On the other, he did not like the sheer amount of anxiety he could see her experiencing. Marinette’s frantic eyes shot over to him, pupils mere pinpricks and hands mouth agape as she tried to form some sort of plan.

“Uh— “

“Ah! You must be the fair maiden that the Bats are comfortable with using magic around them,” John goddamned Constantine threw the door to the sitting room open wide, making it bounce off of the wall and lightly smack back against his shoulder. He ignored it as he grinned at the three younger people in the room, waltzing in casual as anything. He wagged a finger at her playfully. “I’ve been awfully curious about you, ya know? Brucie boy knows a shit ton of magic users, but he never likes seein’ any of us do our thing. And to not only allow you to teleport without any apparent discomfort but to actively protect your identity from me? Now that’s a damn accomplishment and I really gotta applaud you for it,” he mockingly clapped his hands a few times. “So what’s your secret, huh? I won’t tattle.”

“No thanks. Kaalki, a little help?” Marinette carefully pushed Alfred the Cat off of her lap before diving into the portal that Kaalki whipped up for her, the entire process happening so fast that Constantine couldn’t even get out a proper “hey!” before she was gone and the portal closed. He just nodded, hooking his thumbs in his pockets.

“Ya know what? Fair. That’s fair.”

“Goddamn it, Constantine!” Jason threw up his hands in frustration. “Why the fuck do you have to scare away one of the only sane people in this family?”

“Part of my charm, little red riding hood.”

— * — * — * — * — *

“You know, I’ve been pretty damn nice not teleporting right over to you whenever you disappear. So why don’t you just tell me why you’re avoiding me now that we happen to be in the same room by complete accident, huh?” John asked from where he sat in one of Bruce’s lounge chairs sipping on a beer. Marinette mimed choking him, clearly fed up. He had been trying to have a conversation with her for the past three months, ever since that one time he caught the tail end of her portal closing in the Batcave. Three. Long. Months. And he hadn’t given up, because something about this little Parisian teenager intrigued him. She was sixteen, that much he had gathered from the Bats. But to be sixteen and not only in possession of the Horse miraculous but also clearly the Ladybugs, since he had seen Tikki more than once as well, now that was interesting.

Anybody being in the possession of more than one Miraculous was already cause enough to be keeping an eye on them, which was why he had been keeping an eye on the Paris situation and had pieced together on his own that the presence of Tikki meant that this little parisian teenager was none other than Ladybug herself. Now, that? That was a whole new level of concerning, especially since he knew firsthand that the old Grand Guardian was gone and passed his title down to— yeah, Ladybug.

After that deduction, his interest in Marinette had swiftly switched from curiosity to fuck-I-need-to-know-what’s-going-on-here. Because no kid should have to deal with that kind of weight, and Constantine always looked out for kids when he could.

But right then, Marinette was glaring at him. She had been just coming over for a normal “family” dinner with the Waynes, which she attended from time to time. And apparently they had decided to have Constantine already over so that they could chaperone a meeting between them that would hopefully appease the stupid british magic user enough that he left them all alone again until the next time he needed help.

“Believe me when I say, you’d rather not know,” she replied sharply, glaring Dick. He was the one who had convinced her to come despite her recent close calls with Constantine in the past few days. He studiously avoided her gaze. “I just would rather not cross your path, and there’s no reason for us to interact. Why do you care, anyway?”

“You see, now that is an excellent question!” he chugged the last of his beer and gestured to her with the empty bottle. “Normally, I wouldn’t give a flying rat’s ass. But I’ve put two and two together, since I know who Tikki is,” he nodded to the red and black Kwami. “And maybe I just wanna keep an eye on the new Grand Guardian to make sure she’s doin’ alright. That’s an awful lot of magic and responsibility that you don’t deserve, but I’m not about to try to take it away. Keepin’ an eye on you is the next best thing.”

“Try again,” Marinette shot back, crossing her arms. “You were interested in me before you learned about me being Ladybug.”

“I’m nosy, what do you want me to say? I saw a portal in Batman’s man-cave, I get curious. Sue me.”

“Well. I have Bruce and everyone else already watching out for me, so you can leave me alone now. If I need your help, I’ll make sure to ask every other magic user first before contacting you.”

“Woah, now what’s all this venom for?”

“Uh, maybe we should go and actually eat dinner?” Dick tried to step in, hands up. Constantine had stood up from the chair he was in, which was usually a cue to change the subject as fast as possible. “Before Alfred has to come get us?”

“Maybe I’ll be less venomous if you let the subject drop and leave me alone!”

“Context would be nice, though.”

“Seriously guys, let’s go! Food!” Dick was once again ignored.

“Context is the last thing you need in this situation,” Marinette’s voice was suddenly soft, her arms dropping to her sides. “We’ve had this conversation so many times in so many now-deleted timelines. Just drop it this time.”

“If those timelines are now-deleted, then I obviously don’t remember what’s so bad about telling me why you’re acting like I’m some hated family member you’re avoiding!”

Silence.

Pure. Fucking. Silence. As they all watch with front row seats as Marinette flinches at the word ‘family’.

Pure silence as Constantine’s shoulders drop at the sight of her flinch, realization slapping itself on his face.

“No.”

“See? I fucking knew you would— that this would happen. This always happens, you always hate finding it out, but you’re so— so stubborn!” Marinette was blinking away tears, digging in her pockets and bringing out Kaalki’s glasses. “You’ll drop it now, at least. You always do.”

“Now what is that supposed to mean?” Constantine rubbed his forehead, still trying to sort through his amalgam of emotions. Marinette just shook her head, turning to Kaalki.

“Do you mind showing Monsieur Constantine the way out, Kaalki? I’ll grab you a load of sugar cubes afterward.”

“No, wait, hang on a second!”

A portal opened up under him, making John “Stubborn Idiot” Constantine drop ten feet down onto the hardwood, polished floor of his house. His bruised tailbone would take a while to heal, but his frazzled mind was by far the more concerning development. He staggered to his feet, reaching for the nearest bottle of tequila.

“Ugh, fuck my damn life.”

— * — * — * — * — *

“Marinette..?” Damian nudged the girl with his shoulder, frowning. It was after dinner that same day, and as much as he hated to admit it he had grown to actually like having her around. She was a good friend to have. And seeing her slumped back on one of their sofas, sketchbook covering her face and not a single rambling conversation to be had or heard? It was very concerning. She just made a groaning sound to answer him, prompting his frown to deepen. “Are you alright?”

“I just can’t believe that such a sweet, adorable thing like you is half made up of Constantine’s genes,” Jason mused bluntly from the opposite couch, where he tossed a rubber ball up and down out of boredom. “But now I see where you get all of your Disaster Bi-ness from.”

“Shut uuuuup,” She groaned, chucking her sketchbook at him. He caught it in midair, replacing his rubber ball with it and tossing it up and down in the air. “I’m just frustrated. This timeline is still perfectly stable, so I can’t erase it. And I can’t exactly ask ‘hey, can someone commit a horrid atrocity that makes this timeline split from the main one so that I can erase it and we can start over from four months ago?’ because that would be horribly irresponsible of me. But seriously, Jason. If you’re gonna ever commit, like, city-wise arson? I’d probably condone it right now if only so I have an excuse to use time travel to get out of this situation.”

“Not committing arson unless you give me a better reason for it, Pigtails.”

“Damn.”

“But are you okay?” Damian asked again, seeing as she had completely ignored him.

“I’m fine, Damian,” she finally sighed. “And I know how this is gonna go. He’s going to totally ignore me now, until we meet during some magical crisis and he only interacts with me when necessary. Then he pretends we never met, we have a private little one-sided whisper-argument about how he will never make a good father figure and I would be better off leaving him alone, blah blah blah. Avoidance is a coping mechanism I guess I inherited from him.”

“Guess it’s a good thing I’m trying to bite that in the bud then, eh?” Marinette startled out of her sitting position, seeing John stumble into the room…

Drunk off his ass. But apparently still at least mildly coherent.

“I agree with deleted-me’s, I’m not gonna be a dad. Not me,” he tripped, landing on his still-bruised ass and hissing in pain before continuing from the floor; “So if you’re looking for another Daddy dearest, that ain’t me.”

“See, I knew this is how you’d—”

“Let me finish,” he interrupted. “I don’t know how long the booze is gonna last and I need it’s courage here. ‘Kay? ‘Kay. Where was I? Right. But I know magic, ya know. The kind that doesn’t rely on little bobblehead gods to do. I got— like, a million books. Shit ton of books. At my place. Ya can read ‘em. My books. At my place. But I ain’t gonna parent, but I can lend ya books. Maybe give magic advice. Teach a little. Little bit. Didn’t think I’d have a child, but apparently I do and she’s the fuckin’ grand guardian and a damn hero, and I don’t know how the fuck I was able to help make someone like that. But whatever, it’s not like the world’s ever fuckin’ been easy on me,” He pulled out a sample-sized bottle of whiskey from one of the pockets on the inside of his trench coat and chugged it. After a brief wince and hiss at the burn, he kept rambling. “My door’s open, is what I’m tryin’ to say. No guarantee I’ll be in any state to talk to when you walk through it, but it’s open.”

Deciding to steadfastly ignore the tears streaming down her face, Marinette just swallowed thickly and nodded.

“I, uh. I think I can work with that.”

John barely made it to the nearby bin in time to vomit into it.

— * — * — * — * — *

I hate my imagination sometimes, guys. I started imagining a convo between Mari and Constantine at like 4am and it wouldn't leave me alone until I got it down. but by the time I wrote it, I kinda forgot like 60% of the original convo and just winged it. And this was born. I 100% blame @multifandomscribette because their Bio!dad John Constantine headcannons are amazing and even though this isn't in that universe, those headcannons are exactly what inspired this. So blame them, lol.

#dc x mlb #ml x dc #mlb x dc #maribat fanfic #maribat #maribat fic #miraculous ladybug x dc #bio!dad John Constantine

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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 318: On Your Left

Previously on BnHA: The Hawksquad+Lurkers were all “well this sucks” and sat around a bit talking about how maybe they should actually come up with a new plan that is actually good, but then in the end they were like “nah.” Deku was all, “THERE’S SOMETHING INSIDE ME THAT PULLS BENEATH THE SURFACE!! CONSUMING, CONFUSING!! THIS LACK OF SELF CONTROL I FEAR IS NEVERENDING. IT’S HAUNTING HOW I CANT SEEM TO FIND MYSELF AGAIN. MY WALLS ARE CLOSING IN.” Just, literally that whole entire song. All Might was all “Deku you should take care of yourself, try eating a thing,” and Deku was all “BYE, ALL MIGHT,” and just LEFT. He left!!! What the fuck!!!

Today on BnHA: Endeavor is all, “maybe if Deku didn’t listen to All Might he’ll listen to me instead.” Deku is all, “[doesn’t listen to Endeavor]” because, well, yeah. The Vestiges are all, “surprisingly, even we are a little concerned -- maybe you should get some rest, kid.” Deku is all, “((Ò ‸ Ó)).” The Vestiges are all, “holy shit.” Deku is all, “[wanders the ruined city streets terrifying the populace on account of him looking like Shelob had a baby with one of the Nazgul].” Some shriveled-up puppeteer villain asshole is all, “HORIKOSHI SAID IT’S MY TURN TO ATTACK DEKU TODAY SO I AM GOING TO SUMMON MY FRIGHTENED HELPLESS ATTACK MOB!!” Kacchan is all “WHADDYA MEAN THEY FOUND THE NERD!!! -- oh wait, that’s me, I found him. I found the nerd, you guys.” And just in time, too. I was about to owe a whole lot of people a whole lot of dollars.

so I have been super good about spoilers this week as always, but let me tell you guys, for the past 36 hours my dash filters have basically been nonstop “manga spoilers” this and “bnha 318” that, and so I’m coming in with a fair amount of hype here. your move, Horikoshi

oh, good! they got Endeavor to call Deku to try to talk him out of it. what a great and wonderful plan

“listen up kid, you haven’t slept since March and you are basically a walking biohazard right now, I’m just telling it like it is. didn’t you get shot like three times?? and there was a whole thing about how you urgently needed medical attention?? and supposedly we gave it to you, but I mean you haven’t even changed your clothes and don’t seem to have any fresh bandages or anything, so did we?? did we, really?? and also we all got blown up yesterday, so yeah.” hmm he’s making some reasonable points here you guys, but you sure do go on and on, Endeavor

oh he says foreign aid is finally on its way! I’m sure they’ll be very helpful. I mean in fairness they can hardly be worse than the home-grown heroes at this point

hey Enji, could you maybe try appealing to Deku the sixteen-year-old human boy, as opposed to Deku The World’s Last Hope? he does have value beyond his quirk. I know that’s always been an incredibly difficult concept for you to grasp, but could you maybe TRY, jesus

and also we’re worried about you as a person?? you’re just a kid and you’re pushing yourself way too hard?? you were going to say that part next, right. why the hell didn’t Hawks make this call instead

“don’t worry about me... I’m completely fine” Deku you do understand that saying it over and over again doesn’t actually make it true

and again with the rush!! all the rush rush rush!! we’re running out of time, we can’t let AFO and Tomura keep getting stronger, I have to end this now, there’s no time to rest, etc. etc. etc. just the constant pressure of this whole big countdown on top of everything else

holy shit, you KNOW it’s bad when even the Vestiges are telling him to chill

these guys are basically the walking talking embodiments of self-sacrifice; if even they’re telling him he needs to take five, then he must seriously be like half a step away from death’s door

OH SHIT LMAO

DIDN’T EVEN LET HIM FINISH HIS SENTENCE BEFORE HE SENT HIM INTO THE FUCKING SHADOW REALM WITH THAT FUCKING LOOK. HOLY FUCK. DIDN’T EVEN KNOW IT WAS POSSIBLE TO DIE TWICE. SHIT

(ETA: so I’m pretty sure this was just Danger Sense activating and so he cut them off to go do more hero stuff, but I’m gonna go ahead and stick to my original interpretation anyway lol.)

anyway so how’s everybody doing. we all good? En, you good? Banjou? Shino? I’m imagining you guys all curled up in a little ball on the floor right now lol. can’t say I blame you though, no shame

lmaoooooooooooo

“SHEESH.” sheesh indeed, lmao. “what in the FUCK was that”

see, this is why y’all need Kacchan. you need someone who’s not going to back down from him no matter what. if it’s a matter of out-stubborning Midoriya fucking Izuku, then there’s only one other person on the planet capable of that, and we all know it. don’t pretend like you don’t. I am not going to shut up about this! we’ve had our hurt so now what about SOME COMFORT, DAMMIT

“I’m afraid that he’s becoming influenced by my conscience” nah are you kidding Nana this is all 100% made-in-Japan pure original Deku right here

see, Banjou gets it. “that kid, he’s totally going on his own.” exactly. this was so inevitable it was basically scientific law

“well I for one don’t see the problem with Deku being so obsessed with saving everyone else that he pushes himself until his body and soul literally fall apart” okay, whose speech bubbles are these?? we’re about to have words

lol of course

well you always did prefer the direct route didn’t you. but even you can’t possibly think this is okay lol

dark AU!Kacchan please tell us more about your badass doomed timeline in which everything went to shit and you apparently had the same character arc that Deku is having right now except it somehow made you sexier instead of turning you into a rabid t-rex. I have so many questions

oh so now you want to help??? well -- good, actually. sorry if that sounded offended just now lol

(ETA: so at first when I got to the end of this chapter I was wondering if Katsuki B. had somehow summoned his alternate-universe counterpart through trippy OFA space telepathy lol. but in the original Japanese there’s no reference to “we”, so this appears to be a mistranslation. this line should probably read more like “if there’s something/someone out there that would be able to complement/complete the current Midoriya Izuku [it would be]…” which, oh hello, is that Horikoshi once again reaffirming that Deku and Bakugou complete each other lol. “guess what guys, the Vestiges ship it too" heck yeah. they know what’s up!)

look how admiring his boyfriends are. HORIKOSHI GIVE US THE REST OF THIS BACKSTORY ALREADY GODDAMMIT

“meanwhile somewhere in the depths of the ruined city, Deku was having a dance-off with the villains”

I like how the villains all have this “AHH WHAT THE FUCK” kind of body language to them lol. I mean if it were me, and an eldritch horror suddenly clawed its way from the shadows with its writhing glowy tentacles and pants-shitting nuclear death stare, I would probably just die on the spot. no need to stick around. only pain awaits

lol for a minute I thought this was Can’t Ya See-kun and I was like “WHAT A FASCINATING CROSSING OF PATHS” but it’s just some random girl

he seems genuinely confused lol

Deku it’s because you look like something that crawled out of a sewer drain, sweetheart

lol they just took his word for it?

so trusting. even though they’re immediately hauling ass anyway just to be safe lmao

“my appearance is frightening to others” no shit Deku it’s because you look like a fucking alien exorcism. you look like a Lich that got caught up in an oil spill my dude

NO NOT THE CHOSEN ONE ANGST AGAIN

I RAN OUT OF ESSAY JUICE FOR THIS ALREADY HORIKOSHI!! I’VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT IT FOR MONTHS NOW WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG!! BUT ANYWAYS, GOOD!! I MEAN, BAD, THOUGH, OBVIOUSLY. BUT YES

“ENJOY THIS MONTAGE OF DEKU BATTLING A RANDOM KAIJU AND WANDERING THE WOODS LIKE A DERANGED GREEN BABA YAGA” okay yes but sir, exactly how much longer is this going to go on. if it’s a matter of you wanting to make sure we get it, let me assure you that aside from a few stray chuunis who think that Deku embracing the Darkness is the coolest thing he’s ever done, all of us here in fandom fully comprehend that this is Not Good

-- OH SO IT’S LIKE THAT

really. with the flashbacks to his loved ones’ smiling faces and everything. not even gonna try to aim above the belt, huh

AND NO KACCHAN??! NO CLASSMATES?!?! IS HE PURPOSELY NOT THINKING OF THEM??? OR ARE THEY BEING SAVED FOR THE NEXT PAGE??? SO HELP ME, IF THE NEXT PART OF THIS SENTENCE IS “CAN PROTECT THEM”, OR EVEN WORSE, “CAN SEE THEIR SMILING FACES AGAIN”, I...

WHAT DID I JUST SAY

(ETA: my man did Sero and Kaminari fucking dirty lmao. I miss their smiling faces too omg.)

the sheer, unparalleled irony of him saying this while he stands there looking like the gargoyle demon from Fantasia got crossed with an umbrella that got struck by lightning. Deku :(

oi who the fuck is this clown

is he controlling this mob with his evil hair. “what if I made an exhausted, running-on-fumes Deku battle a brainwashed mob at Ground Zero.” Horikoshi do you just have like a checklist of horrible things you want to do to your protagonist

easy there Sasori

well joke’s on you buddy because he’s apparently “completely fine”, so

“here’s to hoping that you know more about AFO’s location than the others” jesus christ Deku you really have hung your mercy out to dry huh

now he’s forcing his mob of terrified prisoners to attack Deku ahhhh. sucks to be them. at least they’re not being controlled by bees

so Deku is saying that Sasori’s control can be broken with “physical trauma.” similar to Shinsou’s quirk I guess. but so does that mean he’s gonna have to hurt them? ( •﹏•)

NO NOT MORE SAD EYES

“DEATH BY EMPATHY!!!” HORIKOSHI NO

fuck. he looks like he’s on the verge of passing out

this is what happens when you nerf a character’s self-preservation stats in favor of spamming their bone-breaking stats instead. NOW ACCEPTING BRAIN CELL DONATIONS FOR A BOY IN NEED!! with your loving generosity we can hopefully help him live to the ripe old age of seventeen

OMGFGGG

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

[grabs your hands] ლ(*꒪ヮ꒪*)ლ [swings you in a circle] へ(ﾟ◇ﾟへ)

THASSSSSSSS WHATSSSSSSS UPPPPPPPPPP

HORIKOSHI REALLY SAID FUCK THAT MASK (ノ°ο°)ノ YOU FINALLY LEARNED!! IT’S CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!!!!

JUST FOR YOU KACCHAN, HORIKOSHI LEFT THIS ONE BAD GUY WHO’S STILL WEAK TO FIRE. GOD BLESS

IT’S YOUR COUNTERPART, KATSUKI B!!!! HOW WE DOIN OVER THERE IN THE TRIPPY COSMIC OFA SPACE REALM LOL. DO WE BELIEVE YET, FANDOM???

LIGHTS!!!!

INSTANT RESULTS!!! IT’S SUPER EFFECTIVE!!!

(ETA: imagine what this must look like to Deku though. he’s been caught up in this dark cloud of despair and exhaustion that’s been building up over... I’m gonna go ahead and say “weeks”, because yeah. and now he finds himself here, in the place where All Might’s legacy ended and the torch was passed to him. and the world is in ruins, and he’s surrounded by frightened people who are all trying to hurt him -- because who isn’t trying to hurt him, these days -- and he’s scrambling to figure this all out, but meanwhile the weariness is finally starting to catch up to him, and so he’s basically just standing there in a fog of complete and utter misery.

and then all of a sudden through that haze, he hears the one voice that’s more familiar than any other that he knows. like, I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he thought he was just imagining it at first. Kacchan showing up to save him right when he’s at his most desperate and feeling the most alone. Kacchan, showing up to save him.

this is the person he always looked up to as a child (to be fair he was quite a strange child lmao). the person who was even closer to him than All Might. the person he always thought was amazing. and bam, here he is now. appearing in the sky out of nowhere to one-shot the bad guy with a single blast (which, btw, that was his armor-piercing attack too lmao dslkjlk take it easy there kiddo). like, that must have felt absolutely surreal to him, especially coming at a time when he’s already half-delirious and barely hanging on to reality. he must have really thought that he was losing it there for a second.

but he’s really there. it really is him. and for this brief moment -- before the rest of the situation catches up to him, and he remembers about all of the fucked-up AFO stuff, and remembers why he was so afraid and why he was pushing everyone away -- for just this one brief moment, he’s too exhausted and stunned to do anything except to just react. just stands there, looking up at him in awe.

and you know, it almost reminds me of...

just. you guys. the character development. the freaking character development. someone who brings reassurance. someone who shows up and makes you think, “oh, it’s all going to be okay now, because [person] is here.” the role reversals. the growth. the payoff!! because who is the one person who always had faith that Kacchan would one day grow up to become an amazing hero like that. WHO IS IT. YOU ALREADY KNOW.

omg. anyways, bless you Horikoshi, my feels which have been on backorder since fucking September have finally arrived lmao. yes, good, thank you. worth the wait. it is always, always worth the wait. fuck yeah.)

“LOWFRIES” SO YOU’RE TELLING ME THE WHOLE GANG IS HERE, AHHHHHHHH (º̩̩́⌣º̩̩̀ )

BEAUTIFUL. WONDERFUL. SENSATIONAL. I DON’T EVEN CARE THAT JUMP IS ON BREAK NEXT WEEK. THIS RIGHT HERE WILL SUSTAIN ME

#bnha 318 #midoriya izuku #BAKUGOU KATSUKI #!!!!#twowy mctwoface #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha meta #bakudeku #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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youbloodymadgenius · 3 years

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Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 1

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello’s masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite, who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310, @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria. Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 1806

Additional note: I'm afraid I'll disappoint some of you. No more newspapers... The articles defined the setting of the story. From now on, it'll be a regular fic.

Hope you enjoy it nevertheless 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

June 2021

Ivar yawns, rubbing his eyes, when he suddenly hears the front door open. The next moment, Ubbe shouts, "Hey baby bro, we're home!"

Slightly confused, Ivar looks at the time on his computer. Stunned, he blinks repeatedly, shakes his head and checks the time again, now looking at his watch. "Guess I lost track of time," he mumbles as he realizes it's really 5:30 pm. He clears his throat. "I'm coming!"

Yawning once more, he wheels to the kitchen. Hvitserk waves at him with one hand as Ubbe greets him with a grin and Sigurd... Well, Sigurd ignores him, as usual.

"Hello boys!" Lagertha smiles as she also enters the kitchen. "Did you go to the beach this afternoon?" It's a rethorical question, since sand can be seen on the tanned skin of his brothers, shirtless and wearing only swimming shorts.

When she looks down at him, her smile becomes softer. "Ivar, you seem tired. Did you work all day long?"

He nods, glad that for once she called him by his first name and not by one of those stupid nicknames that she likes but that make his skin crawl.

"Yep," he shrugs without smiling back, "I made good progress. The new version of your website is almost done. It could probably be online by the end of the week."

His stepmom flashes him a beaming smile. "Great, thanks!"

The conversation then moves on to the subject that everyone in Kattegat has been talking about for the last few days: the midsummer party thrown by their neighbor Harald Hårfager. Every June, it is Kattegat's not-to-be-missed event, to which every resident hopes to be invited.

Lagertha is invited every year, yet rarely attends; his brothers wouldn't miss it, not in a million years; Ivar never went.

He listens with half an ear as his brothers prattle on about the upcoming party, while taking a seat at the large, wooden kitchen table on which Lagertha has just put cakes and drinks.

"What are you going to wear?"

"Do you think Marit will attend this year?"

"Hopefully the music will be better than last year."

"Can't be as bad! What was the name of that reggae band?"

For a fleeting moment, Ivar entertains the thought of attending as well. Not that he's dying to, but… Sometimes, he feels a little bit like Cinderella in this house.

Don't get him wrong, it's not that bad.

First, his stepmom is not–

Wait, wait, wait, is Lagertha technically his stepmom? He's not sure. After all, she wasn't when his parents were alive, she was just his father's first wife. Anyway, she may be his guardian now, but he sees her as his stepmom and he honestly doesn’t give a shit if it's a little weird.

Where was he? Oh yes, Cinderella.

So obviously, Lagertha is not a wicked, haughty and abusive stepmom like this Lady Tremaine of the fairytale.

Actually, even if it pisses him off to admit it, she's pretty nice, patient and composed. Does he love her? Let's not exaggerate – he doesn't. She may love him though, which is a little bit uncanny, if he's being honest. He was the favorite son of her nemesis. Shouldn't she hate him? He would, if the situation was reversed.

The truth is, when he was younger, he tried, he really tried to hate her, blaming her for everything and anything. When too much pain prevented him from sleeping, he let his imagination run wild. There, bound to his bed of suffering, he could see Lagertha cutting the brakes on his mother's car, causing her crash, causing her death.

Of course, even then, he knew deep down that Lagertha had not killed his mother; that the story he told himself was just the product of his endless nights of insomnia. But what can he say? He needed this. Because blaming Lagertha rather than admitting that his beloved mother was at fault – by being distracted, or by falling asleep, he'll never know – was easier for the heartbroken boy he was.

Anyway... So yes, Lagertha is definitely not an evil stepmother like Cinderella's.

Also, he doesn't sleep on a sorry garret, on a wretched straw bed either.

Actually, he has a very large room on the main floor, with a king-size memory foam bed, a walk-in – well, a wheel-in for his case – closet and his own, huge bathroom, fully equipped for his special needs.

Sure, the bathroom and the dressing room were already there when his parents were alive; however, the memory foam mattress had been Lagertha's idea.

Anyway... So yes, he can't exactly complain about his sleeping conditions, unlike Cinderella.

And obviously, he's not forced into servitude.

Actually, one might think so, but no, he's not. Sure, sometimes he works for his stepmom, like today. But so do his brothers. When she had taken them in, she was a powerful businesswoman, working twelve to fourteen hours a day. Once she had become their guardian, she had rearranged her working time and learned to delegate; but even so, she had often run out of time. Therefore, it had seemed normal to them – yes, even to him – to help her out, each of them according to their skills and abilities.

So, while Hvitserk almost always does the grocery shopping, while Sigurd vacuums and does the laundry, while Ubbe mows the lawn and trim the bushes, he, Ivar, runs her company's website and sometimes even does the accounting. And since he loves computers and numbers, it's not exactly a problem.

Anyway... So yes, he's not a slave in this house. Unlike Cinderella.

So, yes, to sum it up, he can't really complain and he's by far not Cinderella. And he knows it.

But... Yes, there's a but...

Sometimes, he feels trapped, as poor Cinderella must have felt.

Sometimes he feels like a spectator of a life he doesn't belong to.

Sure, he doesn't have to be homeschooled – but gods, he's glad he is. The reasons for him to be continuously bullied by classmates are endless. The simplest ones being: he is a cripple, an orphan, the son of a dead mob boss, the smartest one in the whole damn school, let alone his class. Take your pick. It's no fun, no fun at all. Being home alone is preferable to that alternative.

Therefore, barely leaving the house except for medical appointments, he has no friends. He doesn't do sports either – obviously – and yeah, he lives a lonely life, filled with video games and Netflix series. And he's okay with that. Well, most of the time.

Sure, his brothers, or at least Ubbe and Hvitserk, always try to include him as much as possible. But the truth is that because of his legs, there are many, many things he just can't do.

And the other truth, the less pleasant one, is that he partially did that to himself. He cut himself off from a world that hurt him, yet he still misses this world sometimes. At times, he blames himself. Because his life, honestly, is hardly what you would call a life, is it? Not when you're sixteen.

That's why sometimes, like now, he feels this longing, almost a need, to live. To really, truly, fully live. And that's why, for a brief moment, lulled by the light chitchat of his brothers, he considers attending Harald's midsummer party.

But he knows better. This life is not for him, never has been, never will be.

And so, shaking his head, he chases the thought away and, placing his hands on his push rims, he's about to leave the kitchen while the incessant babbling of his brothers goes on.

"I can't wait."

"Don't tell me! As every year, the most beautiful girls of Kattegat will be there."

"Remember that burger food truck? Best burgers ever!"

"I've heard Y/N would be attending this year."

"There'll be booze and girls! Sounds like Valh–"

Wait. His mind goes blank.

Fuck.

What? Did he hear right?

As he replays his brother's words in his head, it's like there's an earthquake happening inside of him.

Fuck.

He stops breathing. Blinks, then clamps his eyes shut.

Fuck.

When he finally manages to draw air into his lungs, he swallows loudly before asking in a weird, high-pitched voice, his heart pounding in his chest, "What– What did you say, brother?"

Hvitserk turns his head toward him and shrugs. "I just said there'll be boo–"

"No, not you!" Ivar snaps at his brother, pointing his pointer finger at Ubbe. "You, what did you fucking say?" Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Lagertha frowning – 'no curse words in this house, boys'– and even if he barely contains an eye roll, he still mouths a quick 'sorry' at her before rewording his question, impatience coursing through him. "What did you say, dear brother? Who did you say would attend?"

Stunned, Ubbe looks at him with wide eyes. "Y/N? I said Y/N would come. That's what I heard anyway. She's Harald's niece. She was here once, right? Remember her, baby bro, huh?"

But Ivar is no longer listening, the blood draining from his face. Y/N... Y/N... Fuck. Finally. Fucking finally. After so long... He may see you again. Wow.

I'll go! I'll fucking go!

He barely contains the words, suddenly acutely aware of the deafening silence in the room, his brothers shamelessly staring at him.

With her brows furrowed and her lips turned downward in a slight frown, Lagertha takes two steps forwards before crouching down in front of him. "Are you all right, sweetie? You're a little pale."

He barely hears when Sigurd giggles, "A little pale? He's greener than an alien!"

Lagertha shoots Sigurd a dirty look and then gently cups Ivar's cheek. "Do you know her, Ivar? Do you know Y/N?"

Overwhelmed, self-conscious, freaked out, caught off-guard, he doesn't know how to respond. Should he tell the truth? Should he lie? His brothers will mock him, for sure. What is the point of telling the truth? What good would it do? On the other hand, he could really use some advice. Yeah. Sure. Advice from Sigurd. Just the thought of it is enough to make him sick. Fuck, what is he going to do?

Rushed words are out of his mouth before he can even gather his thoughts. "No. No. I don't. I mean, yes, I think I do but–" He's being pathetic and he hates it. So after a sharp intake of breath, he shakes his head and eventually replies in a flat, calm voice, the white lie rolling off his tongue. "I know her, but I thought Ubbe was talking about someone else. Sorry."

With these words, he hastily leaves the room, his eyes riveted on his knees, his heart still drumming in his chest.

Y/N. Fuck.

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings

#ivar #modern ivar #modern!ivar #modern-ivar #modern ivar x reader #modern!ivar x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar imagine #ivar fic #ivar fanfic #ivar fanfiction #ivar vikings #vikings ivar #cherrypie’s500 #fairytale retelling #ivarello

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icequeenbae · 3 years

Text

Daddy’s Struggles (m) | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Dad!Baek, domestic au, established relationship (duh), a slice of life, fluff, a lil smutty(!)

Warnings: some friskiness between mom and dad if you know what I mean, mentions of teenagers watching porn (I’m not promoting it, you guys lol), also this gets fluffin’ sweet get a bucket in advance

Word Count: ~2.2k

Summary: Baekhyun overhears your teenage daughter watching porn. You have to handle a small crisis.

Event: the BBH day @supermwritersnet

Author’s Note: This… came out of nowhere:D I blame my dear beta @baekshoney – we'd once discussed the idea of Baek being a teenager’s parent (in relation to a different story). Don’t we all love dilf Baek though? lol Anyways, this is a tiny glimpse into his future as a cute af father and husband <3 Let’s name him puppydad!Baek 😊 I hope this lifts your mood a little on a day like this!

On that note – happy birthday to our genius idol (aka mochi-cheeked hyperactive puppy), I wish that he stays healthy and happy and on the radar throughout the next 2 years (and forever)!! Don’t be too sad, guys, he’s hopefully going to finally lead a somewhat normal life for a bit 💞 Ok, I’ll let you get to it already~

A yawn.

You rubbed your tired eyes and dictated a reminder for tomorrow morning to your AI assistant. It was pretty late and you had your hands full all day with your kids. And while family time was always great, there hadn’t been a spare moment for you to tend to your own business. But two decades of dealing with your hyperactive yet loveable children (and husband) taught you to make the most out of what you got. So you were doing just that, organizing your errands and sorting important emails after everyone had scurried off to their rooms, and your husband — to the shower.

Baekhyun was quite exhausted himself, so you realized he must’ve gotten in the common bathroom by the time you exited the one in your bedroom. He did that sometimes when you locked the door out of habit. Not that he couldn’t come in, it was just… You used to scold him pretty badly for breaking into the bathroom. Picking locks wasn’t something you wanted your juniors to acquire as a habit. They had enough of their daddy’s traits as it was.

The thought made you chuckle. Your eldest son had already outgrown his father by at least five and a half – gotta be precise here! – centimeters (which made daddy very proud, but also a teeny tiny bit jealous). Despite his height, which, you were sure, was going to break the golden 180cm in the next few months, your boy’s build was exactly the same as Baekhyun’s. His shoulders were broad, his hips wide, and his waist was naturally narrow. Legs long and lean, and eyes always mischievous. He was eighteen and already seemed more like Baekhyun’s best friend rather than his child. Being both the hyung and the oppa of the household, he was the most mature out of the bunch, and always a big help to his parents.

Your middle child, your precious daughter, resembled you a lot. Her wavy hair and her big eyes with the longest eyelashes either of you’d ever witnessed. Seriously, that was the first thing Baekhyun’s friends had commented on when they came by to meet your new baby. ‘Is this even normal? Can she see through those? That’s one pretty baby!’ She was even prettier now, at her sweet sixteen, cheeks still a bit chubby, which – just as her button nose – were definitely an homage to her dad. Not to mention her hands that were even more delicate and exquisite than his.

The youngest, your six-year-old son, was a blessing. You weren’t planning to have more children after the first two until you suddenly thought… why not? Cannot say that you weren’t a little bit under the influence at the time. It was one of those rare weekends when your kids had a sleepover at their grandparents’, so you had the whole house to yourself. Deciding to have a domestic date and enjoy shameless daytime drinking, you indulged in a whole glass of wine before both of you were tipsy and giggling, then you added one more to the mix. At that point, all kinds of crazy things were brought up.

‘We should do this more often…’ You informed your partner. ‘This is exciting! We can walk around naked the way we used to before we had teenagers in the house!’

‘I miss our naked Saturdays…’ Baekhyun whined, almost spilling his wine while trying to sip it gracefully. ‘Now I barely even see you naked with your shower locking obsession!’

Pursing your lips, you dismissed his complaint.

‘After that incident… You cannot blame me for my caution.’

The incident was, well, your son needing to use the bathroom while his sister was taking too long and heading to the one in your bedroom. He nearly walked in on… an adult scene.

‘He didn’t even see anything, Y/N-ah,’ your husband grumbled, but you waved him off, downing your drink as if it was a shot of tequila rather than a glass of wine.

‘I don’t see a problem though,’ he blinked at you, not following. ‘We’re alone. Why not… See each other naked again?’

‘Right. We can also- Y/N-ah!’

‘What?’ You eyed his suddenly enthusiastic form with nothing but suspicion.

‘We can create a distraction!’

‘Hm?’

‘A distraction for them. So that they’d be busy with something else while we’re away.’

‘Hmm?’ You still couldn’t locate the source of his excitement.

‘Lemme show you,’ he slurred, tugging on your wrist to get you up and dragging you to the bedroom.

Let’s have another baby – that was his brilliant idea. Had you both not been such poor drinkers, one of you would’ve thought this through.

Nevertheless, you were glad that you didn’t. Because your little angel, who could sometimes be more of a tiny demon, to be frank, was the single sweetest thing to ever exist on planet Earth. He had his entire family wrapped around his little finger, and you – most of all. How could anyone blame you? That troublemaker was the spitting image of his dad and had a personality to match — just as playful and affectionate.

The chill spring breeze from the window licked at the bare skin of your arm, causing you to shiver slightly, coming back from the land of reminiscing. You stretched on the bed, noticing how protruding your nipples became from the cold even while hidden by the gentle fabric of your nightgown. Pulling the covers up, you grunted under your breath, wondering what was taking Baekhyun so long.

Just as you did, the door cracked open, and your husband sauntered into the room.

‘Ah finally, I thought I needed to go rescue you again,’ you chuckled.

That had happened before. He once used the common bathroom to shower before bed and ended up captured by your daughter, who was around six or seven at the time, in the hallway. She then demanded cuddles, knowing that her father was too weak to turn his precious girl down and send her back to bed. You found them both huddled up asleep on the couch, with your husband’s head tilted dangerously to the side. Terrible sleeping postures always had consequences, so you spared him the agony of the next morning, waking him up mercifully and helping to get your little girl to her bed. This was only one of many occasions – Baekhyun was a softie.

This time, however, he was a bit stupefied.

He didn’t react to your remark and seemed like he was going on autopilot when he came closer and sat on the bed.

You lifted the covers, inviting him to join you, and he followed your lead, still staring at the wall across the room.

‘Yeobo,’ you called, getting slightly alarmed. ‘Are you okay?’

He blinked, the stupor breaking, and looked at you with astounded eyes.

‘I- I think,’ he began, making you shift to face him properly. ‘I think I just overheard our daughter watching porn!’

His voice lowered to a whisper by the end of that sentence.

‘Oh my god,’ you whispered back. ‘How do you figure?’

‘I was walking down the hallway, and I thought I heard something from her room. I didn’t fully register what it was, but now that it processed… It was definitely porn!’

The signs of distress on his face almost caused you to break down in a fit of laughter. You held it in with all you got. Fathers and daughters, the eternal struggle.

‘First of all, ew. Aren’t you even a little bit ashamed to be eavesdropping on your kids like that?’ You didn’t let him protest. ‘Also, how do you even know it was porn, you know she sometimes mumbles and whimpers in her sleep. Like someone else we know…’

Giving him a pointed look, you leaned over his chest to turn the lights to the lowest mode, leaving the room dimly lit. It was always effective when you wanted to help him relax.

‘I wasn’t ea- And you think I can’t tell what porn sounds like? There are some generic… sounds. That give it away.’

‘When was the last time you watched it?’ You murmured, eyeing him curiously.

Of all people, you knew best how short his attention span was. Sometimes it could work to your advantage. Like right now, when you needed to de-escalate this before you could reason with him.

‘I- wh- I don’t know, probably when you were pregnant,’ he recalled. ‘The third one was somehow the toughest on me. You looked way too attractive for a heavily pregnant lady, let me tell you.’

‘Heavily pregnant??’ You scoffed, softening right after. ‘Well, you have a point, he was pretty huge. I swear, if he doesn’t grow up to be taller than Chanyeol, I’d be offended. That boy’s giant head prolonged my healing by at least a month.’

Baekhyun sighed and looked up at the ceiling, thinking back to that time.

‘He was the only one who caused you to tear, right?’

‘Yeah. Which is weird, considering that he was my third one. Ah well, I guess I’m not getting any younger…’

‘Aren’t you though? I’m constantly being asked about my pretty young wife,’ Baekhyun smiled at you charmingly. ‘And you only became prettier after the third pregnancy. I say it’s the hormones.’

Your cunning little plan was working. He was incredibly easy to distract.

‘Tell me the truth, was it the boobs? Or my butt? I did gain the most weight with the little daredevil, that’s for sure.’

‘It was all of you. You always looked so sexy when pregnant, I just wanted to have you all to myself,’ he cooed at you. ‘To feed you handpicked strawberries. And smother you with kisses. My beautiful young wife.’

At some point during this conversation, you shuffled closer to each other, now cuddled up snugly on the bed. Your finger slowly traced abstract patterns on his chest, happily exploiting the access to his skin where his pajama shirt was unbuttoned.

‘Ah, you’re just saying that to get under my nightgown,’ you batted your eyelashes at him, and he shook his head.

‘Maybe a little, but that’s true. And it’s not surprising that people are noticing – you are younger than me.’

‘A couple of years is nothing at our age,’ you murmured, bending your knee and moving your leg slightly up his to get cozy.

‘Well, you know what people say… Small kids make parents younger. Wanna have another one?’ He nudged you gently and laughed at the dirty look you gave him.

‘Yeobo- please don’t make jokes like this. I’d rather look for other elixirs of youth than go through that entire ordeal again.’

You knew that he was kidding, but the thought made you shiver.

‘I know, honey, I know. Like I said, you’re not in need of any elixirs.’

At this you relaxed, melting into his shoulder, and guiding his arm to wrap around you, warming your exposed shoulders.

‘Well, Mr Byun, same to you. Still as charming as two decades ago.’

‘Hey, I’d like to think that I’m more charming now. The experience and all.’

‘Who helped you gain all that experience though?’ You poked him lightly, and a low chesty laugh escaped his lips.

‘Of course, it was my one and only, my young, and beautiful, and smart and sexy little wife,’ he punctuated each compliment with a chaste kiss to your cheeks, nose, lips, and neck.

You squirmed in his arms.

‘Ah, you make a woman go mad,’ you purred into his lips mockingly.

He snickered softly, ready to lean in, but then stopped abruptly.

‘Wait a second- What about-’

‘Baekhyun…’ You murmured as he fussed on the bed.

‘I should probably go in there, and-’

‘And what? Embarrass your daughter?’ You held him down. ‘She’s sixteen, honey, it’s just the hormones. We’ve both been there. Let her be.’ You nuzzled his neck, pressing your lips to his sensitive skin lazily.

His mind was growing cloudy again since your hand was now caressing his inner thigh foxily. He’d probably realized what you were doing by now, but you were right, so he allowed you to sway him into giving the idea of an immediate intervention up.

‘Besides, I’m sure you wouldn’t be nearly as appalled if that was our eldest,’ you scoffed and added in an exaggerated tone. ‘Never took you for a sexist.’

‘But- he’s eighteen, and she- she’s my little girl…’ He mumbled in a small voice, hazed further by your not-so-subtle seduction. ‘I can’t let her- watch that-’

‘Don’t worry, yeobo,’ you whispered soothingly in his ear, slipping your hand into his loose pants. ‘I’ll talk to her tomorrow. Without you. No need to traumatize the poor girl, that’s how daddy issues develop.’

‘You should know,’ he bit back meekly, sighing when you finally wrapped your fingers around his semi-hard length.

‘The sass! It’s almost like you still got it, Mr Byun. Care to impress that young wife of yours?’

‘I sure will, you cunning woman,’ he growled playfully, completely giving in to it and attacking your laughing mouth as he lifted the covers over your head.

A/N: Thank you for reading! As usual, feel free to share your thoughts in the comments/ asks, and if you’re new – check out my Masterlist ^^

#theBBHday #baekhyun smut #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun scenario #exowritersnet #supermwritersnet #baekhyun event #baekhyun fanfic #dad!Baek #puppydad!Baek #icequeenbae fics

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writingabouteverything · 3 years

Text

The Perfect White Flower--and Other Nonexistent Things

a/n YALL THIS IS PROBABLY DUMB BUT I HAD THIS IDEA ABOUT A HARRY STYLES X READER FIC THATS BASED ON THE PLOT OF JANE THE VIRGIN AND I WANTED TO WRITE IT SO BADLY I MADE THIS ACCOUNT

disclaimer--wont follow the show exactly

Pairing: Harry Styles x latina! reader (a key factor of the show revolves around the lead being latina, and im latina and honestly love writing for us but anyone can still read and understand/hopefully enjoy and the fic doesn’t involve any physical descriptions:))

Series Summary: Y/n l/n has had the world figured out since she was a child. She won’t be a writer because it’s risky, she’ll just focus on school and becoming a teacher. She’s never been a child, because her mother had her at sixteen and hasn’t aged a single year since. That’s part of the reason the promise she made to her grandmother means so much to her--if she doesn’t have sex before marriage, her child will never have to grow up as quickly as she did. And Harry Styles is at the top of the world--his music has never been more successful, he has a lovely girlfriend, and he’s never been more in demand. He has everything in the world...except a child, and through a series of unbelievable events--y/n might be his only chance to have one. Ever.

Chapter One Summary: Who knew getting a pap smear on two hours of sleep and three cups of coffee was as bad as having unprotected sex?

There’s something dangerous about taking public transportation in LA. And no, I don’t mean it in the ‘there are bad people in the world’ type of way. I mean it in the ‘I live in one of the casual influencer, celebrity, tourist hubs of the world and each time I step onto the bus I find myself mesmerized by all the stories I see in them’ way. Kind of pathetic, I know, but sometimes a child with blonde pig tails or a woman streaming on instagram live will catch my eye and the urge to pull out my lap top and start something I’ll never finish.

I know that writing isn’t some kind of disease. But I can’t let myself fall in love with it the way I want to. There’s nothing wrong with writing a short story or two, but trying to write a novel? That’s impractical. It will distract me from school, from the four year plan I’m almost done with.

Sighing, I brave taking at my surroundings. I deserve this today, after the anonymous, rude costumer at the hotel today, I need positivity. No one is particularly inspiring. The bus stops and I watch out the window. At first the crowd is ordinary, and then i see them...paparazzi. Flashing cameras from all angles, grown men violating all rules of personal space. It never sits right with me, but I guess it’s just part of living in LA. The bus starts moving again. When it stops again, I see even more paparazzis, but their cameras aren’t flashing. Good for whoever escaped that.

The bus door opens and I snap my attention back to my computer screen. I rub my eyes as I stare at my word document. How is there more that needs to be edited? This professor is the harshest grader I’ve ever had, and my friend, Gisa, is kind for giving me even more notes. But I’m exhausted. Two tests and an essay due before 12:00. And it’s...11:38. Great--I have to upload it the second I’m at my doctor’s office and have WiFi again.

I spend some time highlighting and rewording sentences, and once I’m done I reward myself with more people watching because I deserve it and I can’t fall asleep here. I’m kind of invested in the girl live streaming her bus ride...maybe she’ll say her instagram handle.

But when I look up, she’s not on the bus anymore. Almost no one is. An elderly couple is sitting towards the back. A woman with a toddler sit two rows in front of me...and there’s now a man directly across from me. I blink for a moment, imagining a story for someone who’s face I can’t quite see beneath such dark sun glasses. His dark waves and strong jaw do most of the imagining for me--he deserves a mystery, a dramatic one with a happy ending and just enough romance to keep the people interested. A good romance, too--not too sappy. Enemies to lovers, maybe. A mysterious stranger that’s not really a stranger because something about him is just...familiar.

He turns his head and I drop my gaze immediately. There’s no doubt he caught that, but I still pretend to edit the title of my essay. “You’ve been typing stubbornly since I first got on the bus.” There’s an accent--of course he’s english. But it’s more than that, I’ve heard that voice before. I’ve been...soothed by it. And--oh my god, I’m sitting across from Harry Styles.

Okay, don’t freak out. Don’t freak him out. He’s probably on here to escape the the whole ‘oh my god, you’re Harry Styles!’ thing.

“What are you writing?” Harry Styles just spoke to me. I greeted my one direction poster every single day in middle school, and Harry Styles just spoke to me. Okay--relax, breathe--it’s only weird if you make it weird.

There’s a kind of curt curiosity to his question. He could have been ruder, considering how blatantly I was staring at him. “I um...an essay.” I’m temped to turn the screen so that he can see I’m telling the truth. Though he wasn’t hostile, a part of me is paranoid that he thinks I am writing about him. It’s a fair assumption, for all he knows I’m drafting a tweet about who I saw on the bus this morning or preparing to send something in to some gossip girl-esque blog. “It’s due today at noon and normally I’m way more on top of things, but I had this last minute doctor’s appointment rescheduling because my usual doctor is out of town and--” I cut myself off before I can tell Harry Styles that I’m ovulating and that if I don’t go to my OBGYN now, I have to wait an entire month and I’ve already been off birth control longer than I’d like. I might not have actual sex in my near future, but my cramps have been extra terrible. “An essay, I just finished an essay.”

He nods once. Maybe he feels bad for so thoroughly startling me into such a rambling, because the corner of his mouth tilts upwards. A soft smile adds even more grace to his features, I focus on the dimple that appears in his cheek. “An aggravating essay, I take it, considering the death glares you’ve been giving your laptop screen.”

I smile at his polite humor. “It’s for the harshest grader on campus. She took three points off of my first essay freshman year because I spaced my bibliography wrong.”

He cringes in sympathy. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” I hum, proud of myself for not letting him know that I know who he is. The bus stops, I can see my doctor’s office behind a few paparazzi. “This is my stop.”

Harry nods once, ducking his head slightly. A tiny part of me feels sympathy for him; from what I’ve gathered, he genuinely loves his fans and the relationship they have, but it must be draining to never have a moment of privacy. Especially when it’s people who care more about selling your picture than your mental health.

I linger on the bus’s step, watching the men with large cameras look around. “Excuse me, are you guys looking for Harry Styles?” Most of the men disregard me, but one looks at me. “I know he’s near here because I’m a really big fan and my friend just texted that she saw him.” This gets me the attention I wanted. “He’s at Northfield--a cafe like three blocks down. I just know that if she got a picture with Harry in like a magazine or something she’d totally lose it--in a good way, and she’s been having a bad time so if you see her can you try to make it happen? Knowing her she’ll be at his side, she’s blonde, shortish hair.”

The men seem skeptical, but I guess they realize that this is the best lead they have. I think the fact that I gave a reason to justify selling Harry out for no reason helped. They disperse together, heading at least three blocks away from Harry. I don’t know if I’ve actually helped him, but I hope I have.

“Essay girl.” I freeze, half cringing. Did he hear that? That’s embarrassing. I consider darting away, but decide that would just make me cringe more. So I turn on my heels. “You...you forgot your phone.”

He just saved my life. “Thank you.” I take my phone from his outstretched hand, ignoring the slight thrill that runs through me when our fingers brush. “You’re my hero--the last thing I needed today was to run all over the city searching for my phone.” I finish the awkward admission with a partial laugh.

“Least I could do,” he mumbles, “especially considering what you just did.”

...He did see that. “Oh um--it was nothing, I just kind of made a connection and assumed the only reason you’d be on a public bus is because you were trying to avoid some things, and you make really great music and a lot of people happy, so you deserve that break.” Why does it feel like I’ve been talking forever? “Anyways, thanks for the whole phone thing, and I hope I got them off your tail.”

My joke seems to somewhat land. His lips part, like he’s planning on saying something else. A timer on my phone interrupts him. I instinctually look down--great, the alarm on my phone warning me that I’m only ten minutes away from being late. “I’m late.” I turn towards the bus’s exit. “I gotta go, but thanks again, and I hope you have a good day.”

I disappear after that, still not sure that that whole thing wasn’t some kind of hallucination. Did I just meet Harry Styles? He...he gave me my phone. Harry Styles has touched my phone. I can’t wait to tell Gisa, she’ll lose it.

I’m still thinking about Harry Styles when I finally reach my OBGYN’s office. When I get there, things are a lot more hectic than I thought they’d be. Many people crowd the waiting area and the receptionist’s desk is clearly understaffed. Two young girls are trying to address multiple upset pregnant women and take phone calls at the same time, all while practically buried in a sea pf paperwork. Wow, I didn’t realize that transferring was such chaos. One of the girls waves me over and barely checks my name before shoving a form towards me. I fill out as quickly as possible.

I upload my essay quickly after checking in. Who knows, maybe Harry Styles’s blessing will get me an A? A third person in scrubs emerges from the back after a moment and ushers me into a room. I tell myself to focus on going over the facts I need for the test I have to take in a little over an hour. Or to focus on the fact that I just met Harry Styles. But instead, I feel my heavy eyelids fall shut.

I don’t know how long I sleep, but I know that I wake up during the middle of a doctor’s sentence, “...I know I’m not your usual, so I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.”

“Hm...Yeah, yeah I’m comfortable.” She nods once, her wide eyes slightly red. “But I do have a class today in like an hour, so I was wondering if this was going to take longer because of the office’s move?”

“Oh, no,” she shakes her head. “Just because Dr. Rodriguez gave us no notice before deciding that she no longer wanted to work here...or in the country. Or even live in the US, despite the fact that we just signed a lease on a place together...” Tears well in the stranger’s eyes, pity settles in my stomach.

“That sounds incredibly complicated, I didn’t mean to rush you.”

She blinks twice, her expression blanking as she fights against the pain of what’s clearly a terrible break up. “No, no--you have every right. Today is your day and if..honestly, if you’re strong enough to go to a class after this, and do what you’re about to do by yourself, then I’m strong enough to get through today.”

Um...didn’t realize a pap smear counted as something that needs moral support, but I’ll chalk it up to her heightened emotions. “Thanks.”

She snaps on her medical gloves. “No, thank you for your patience. Now lay down.”

I do as told, preparing for a sensation I haven’t often experienced. A moment passes and I know she’s started. She’s moving away from me much faster than expected. Oh--I guess pap smears are a lot shorter than I expected.

“That’s it?”

“Yep,” she hums, pulling her gloves off. “Now just take it easy, and hydrate.”

Weird...but that’s like general doctor advice. “Thanks!”

I’ve never wanted to keep a secret from Gisa, but sometimes I really regret telling her I met Harry Styles. It’s been almost a month and I find my mind wandering back to the moment in which our fingers brushed more than I should. Sometimes I let myself wonder what he might have said if my phone hadn’t rang. I was probably just imagining the way his lips parted, but my ind refuses to let it go.

“...You know it’s kind of sad, I read an interview in which he spoke about the fact that he has some genetic condition that makes it hard to have kids. He has so many godchildren, and I feel like he’d make such a great father.”

I try to keep up with Gisa’s words, but the dull ache in my head makes it feel so far away. “Yeah...he seemed really patient.”

Gisa nods, turning to face me. “You alright, you’re looking kinda green?”

“Yeah...” I reach for my canvas bag. “I think I just...I probably just need some water.”

My hand grazes the metal of my water bottle and then the corners of my vision blur into blackness. I sway, Gisa’s hand is on my shoulder...and then it all goes black.

I sit uncomfortably on the hospital’s cot. Gisa is a traitor for telling my mom that I fainted. I knew she’d just drag me here--hispanic mothers, they either believe they can cure you with vic’s vapor rub or they want you in the ER. No in between.

“I know you didn’t want another test, but you’ve been throwing up in the morning for days and now you’re fainting.”

“Fainted,” I correct, “it happened once.”

“C’mon, mija, it’s just one doctor’s appointment.”

Speaking of, an ER nurse returns. “Fainting and nausea spells explained,” he says, glancing at his clipboard, “you’re pregnant.”

My mom and I can’t help but exchange a look before bursting into laughter. Pregnant. If I’m pregnant then the second coming is here. “That’s impossible, I’m a virgin.”

He glances at my mom, “maybe we should have this conversation in private.”

“No, what you say in front of me you can say in front of my mom.”

My mom raises an eyebrow. “Y/n, did you and that guy from your english class--”

“No! No, we did not. I am a virgin and there’s no way I’m pregnant.” I glare at the nurse.

He then ushers me to a bathroom so that I can provide a urine sample. After I’m finished, he shows me a pregnancy test strip. “Pink means pregnant.” I bite my tongue as he tests the strip in my sample. He pulls it out and it’s...it’s bright pink.

“I’m calling my doctor, because this has to be a mistake. It has to be like a hormonal thing.”

“Exactly, pregnancy hormones.”

I glare even harder, calling the doctor that I saw last week. “Hello, Dr. Ash? I was wondering if I could get a consultation because I’m in the ER and some crazy doctor is trying to tell me I’m pregnant.”

Silence on the line for a long second. “...I actually cleared my calendar for you.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #jane the virgin #jane the virgin AU #lot #hslot st louis

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ahtsumu · 3 years

Text

the mystery of love ; kuroo tetsurou

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x f!reader

synopsis: kuroo tetsurou does not believe in soulmates. he believes in science, himself, and sometimes other people. but that doesn’t mean he can’t believe in love.

tag(s): sweet summer lovin’, friends to lovers, inspired by call my by your name, university student!kuroo tetsurou, lab intern!kuroo tetsurou, so much pining lol, fluff, angst, slow burn ; warning(s): profanity, mentions of alcohol ingestion (it’s legal bc they’re in italy!), suggestive themes ; wc: 4.8k

a/n: happy birthday tetsu!! i hope you guys like this. i really enjoyed writing it ♡

Kuroo Tetsurou does not believe in soulmates. He believes in science, himself, and sometimes other people. At least, that’s what he tells you. Sometimes you treat this information as a source of hope; other times, you’re not sure what to make of it.

This, you realise with his shoulder pressed against yours and both your bodies sprawled across his wrinkled bed sheets, is one of those other times. You turn your face to look at his.

“What?” he asks, one side of his mouth curling up in a smile.

For a moment, you wonder what would happen if you just said it. You could blame the alcohol. Get away with it scot-free. While you mull the option over in the dead silence of his room, your brain suddenly registers the music still playing from the living room. The low bass reverberating through the walls. How close your lips are. The sound of his breaths.

“Earth to Y/N?”

And like that, the little what-if that rose in your mind falls back with its tail between its legs. You bite your lip, look around his room like the walls have a script printed on them. Unfortunately, they do not.

“I was just thinking about my shirt.” It’s not great, but it’s the best you can do while still feeling the vodka and orange juice burn in your stomach. And smelling it on yourself.

Kuroo’s laugh booms through the room and you can’t help but giggle along with him. “I said I was sorry!” he says, hazel eyes twinkling with mirth. He pauses and glances at his closet, then nods his head in its direction. “Take a hoodie. Your pick.”

A smile–– one you try to downplay but fail miserably to–– creeps up your face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo replies. “You can also shower here if you want. It's the least I can do after spilling my drink all over you.”

When you emerge from Kuroo’s bathroom in one of his thinner hoodies, a lot soberer and drying your hair, he’s not on the bed anymore. Quietly, you step out of his room and look for him through the house. People are crashed everywhere–– on the sofa, over the kitchen counter, even propped up against walls. The floor is covered with plastic cups and mysterious pools of liquid. Wrinkling your nose, you try your best to step around the messes, looking in every corner in the house for the raven-haired boy.

You find him back in his room, actually. He’s back on his bed scrolling through his phone, the light illuminating his sharp features. When he hears you close the door behind you, he looks up, eyes immediately zeroing in on the black hoodie over your torso. The corner of his mouth twitches up.

“Where’d you go?” you both ask at the same time. He chuckles; you grin. Crawling back onto the bed, you tell him to go first.

“I went around to make sure nothing’s broken,” he explains. “Perks of being the only sober intern in the house, I guess.”

A beat passes.

This house is rented. You forgot about that. All his expenses are paid for by your mother’s lab. You forgot about that. He fits in your world so well, like maybe he’s always had a spot there, that you forgot that Kuroo Tetsurou is only here for the summer.

“Right.”

Kuroo raises a brow. “And you?”

“I went to look for you.”

He smiles and holds his hands out like a magician at the end of a trick. “Well, you found me.”

“Yeah,” you muse. “I guess I did.” Aren’t you lucky.

With that, something shifts in the air. A contemplative expression crosses Kuroo’s face. Maybe he’s realised how his words come out sometimes. Kuroo often says things that sound like they have more than one meaning and it used to throw you off, but now you just go with it. You’ve even picked up that habit yourself. “Do you ever wish that you’d met someone earlier? Maybe under different circumstances?” he asks.

Sighing, you fall back against his mattress and stare up at the ceiling. Telling the truth feels easier when you can’t see him. “Yeah. All the time.” A few seconds pass. “Do you think we would’ve been friends if we went to the same college?”

He also lies down. You’re both back in the same positions you were in an hour ago, but something’s changed. “No,” he admits. You’re not surprised–– that’s what you’d expected. “I’d be a junior and you’d be a freshman. We probably would’ve never met. And even if we had, I wouldn’t be caught dead hanging out with a… freshie.” He chuckles softly at the end. “And look at me now,” he adds softly, more to himself than you. You look over at his face. A contemplative smile rests on his lips.

That urge to just say it returns.

“Kuroo, I think––”

“You’re my favourite p–– oh, my bad. You first.”

And it goes away again.

“Um, uh,” you stutter, “how long do you have left here?”

Kuroo raises his brows. “On this planet? Hopefully a while, Y/N.” He sees your unamused expression and drops the front. “Three more weeks.”

Your eyes widen. Eight weeks have already passed. Blood rushes to your ears. Eight entire weeks have already passed, meaning that in three weeks, Kuroo Tetsurou will leave forever. And in four, you will, too. Except you’ll come back. You’ve done so every summer since you were born, probably will do until you die.

But this place will never be the same as it used to. Not after him.

“Y/N?” Once everything comes back into focus, you see the concern riddling his features. “Everything okay?”

“Hmm? Yeah.”

Say it.

“You didn’t have too much to drink, right?”

Say it.

“I just got buzzed. What about you?”

“The only drink I was planning on having all went to your shirt.”

Say it.

“Kuroo.”

“Yeah?”

Not yet.

“Let’s go on an adventure.”

At two AM, everything is different. The streets feel different, the villas look different, and you–– you can’t put your finger on it but Kuroo Tetsurou has changed, too. He sits behind the wheel of your father’s white 1953 Cadillac with the convertible roof down, unruly hair blown back by the breeze, a euphoric grin stretched over his face. In the passenger’s seat, you sit with an equally large beam and your hands raised into the dark sky.

“Where to, Miss?” he shouts over the wind.

“The stars,” you shout back with a laugh. Kuroo’s cat-like eyes briefly flit over to your side profile, lips curving to form a smaller, more tender smile. But you miss that–– your gaze falls on him just a second after his return to the road.

“I heard you say Jack’s,” he says, smirking.

The 24/7 diner sticks out like a sore thumb in the row of sun-baked stucco and stone buildings with its bold neon lights and shiny exterior. During the day, it seems gaudy, way too American for a small town in northern Italy. But at night, this place feels like home. You’ve been stumbling into Jack’s completely shit-faced since you were sixteen. Of course, all those other times had been with the kids of your mother’s coworkers. All those other times, you could hardly remember what you even ordered when you woke up hours later.

But this time, you walk in with Kuroo Tetsurou at half-past-two in the morning, the chemicals running through your bloodstream epinephrine and dopamine, not ethanol; if you’re drunk then it’s on a feeling and your only poison is the boy next to you. You study his face and consider that thought. No, he’s not poison. He’s the antidote.

“Y/N!” the server exclaims, rushing over with two menus. “And Kuroo! My two favourite customers, but together this time!” Giovanni ushers you two to a booth by the window and takes your orders, purely for show, of course. He knows your orders by heart: the Lorenzo for Kuroo and the Quentin for you.

“With fries on both, please,” Kuroo adds, throwing you a wink. “Aren’t I a gentleman?”

“You only did that to have more for yourself,” you reply drily. Having him over at your house for dinner every night made picking up his idiosyncrasies so unbelievably easy. You know them like they’re your own. You know him like he’s your own.

Kuroo clutches his chest and pretends to be offended, then changes the conversation to what happened at the lab today, or rather, yesterday. That your mother and the other researchers are so close to finding a cure for the strain of virus that’s recently hit crickets in southern Italy.

“You should drop by again sometime,” he says. “Last time you came around was, what, two weeks ago?”

Your face breaks in a grin. “Are you saying you’ve missed me? Chemistry getting boring?” you tease, drawing a loud laugh from him.

“Sodium hydrogen, you little shit.” Your mother’s used this one on you before, but hearing it from him makes you giggle anyway.

Giovanni comes back with two plates, each loaded with fries. You both say your thanks and he retreats to the kitchen again, but not before wiggling his eyebrows at your reddening faces. Wordlessly, you grab your fork and knife and transfer at least half of your fries onto Kuroo’s plate. Kuroo stares at you with the slightest smile. That look sends your stomach into flips.

“What?” you question nonchalantly, cutting into your burger.

“Nothing,” he says, mirroring your actions. “Nothing at all.”

It’s hard to imagine that after spending almost every day together for eight weeks straight that there’s still more to learn about each other, but there is. You tell him more about your real home. Your best friend who called you at 3 AM last night because of timezones. Stories from every summer before this one, when you were a different person in the same place you are now.

He tells you more about Kenma, his best friend from high school. How they played on one of the best volleyball teams in Japan. Stories from training camp, literature class, the metro ride home after school–– you listen to every single one in rapt attention. There’s not enough time in the world for all the things you want to know about Kuroo Tetsurou, so you take what you can get. If only you’d known him before you’d known him.

“If we’d met earlier here, do you think we would’ve been friends?” you ask after paging Giovanni for the check.

“No,” he replies, picking up a few remaining fries with his fork instead of his fingers. The corners of your mouth turn up. That’s your thing. He considers the scenario seriously. “I think we met right when we should have.”

“What about the future?” you press, leaning into the conversation. “Let’s say we meet in two years here, instead of now. Would we be friends?”

Kuroo sets his fork down, eyes you steadily. “What’s this about?”

You blink. “What?”

“What’s with all these hypotheticals today?” Perhaps worried that he came off too harshly, Kuroo adds, “I thought I was the scientist.”

“I just… it feels like I’ve known you since forever.” This feels like it was meant to be, you don’t say. And I want to know you forever.

A sigh–– fond, but still a sigh–– blows through his lips. “Don’t tell me you believe in soulmates,” he says with a wicked grin.

“Are you calling me your soulmate?” The question, shamelessly genuine, painfully hopeful, leaves your mouth without you intending it to and you regret it instantly. Because Kuroo Tetsurou has told you many times that he does not believe in soulmates.

Is it so bad to dream, though?

You watch him carefully but he doesn’t say anything, just continues smiling wryly like you’d intended to tease him. Like he knows that you know better. But you don’t.

“Are you?” he suddenly replies. Sharp eyes hold yours, daring you to respond. Do you dare?

At that moment, Giovanni returns with the check. “Who’s paying?” he asks, unaware of the tense exchange that just occurred across the table. Inaudibly, you sigh in relief. Kuroo is about to say that it’s on him when he catches himself in the middle of his sentence, looks your way, then back to Giovanni. He says you’ll go Dutch. You nod in approval.

“So,” Kuroo drawls once you’ve both paid for your meals. “Where do we go from here?”

Good question.

Kuroo Tetsurou has never been to an outdoor club period. And though he’s been clubbing, he has never once gone dancing in his lifetime. You tell him that’s about to change as he parks the car in a lot near the venue. Before him, all your summer nights were spent here.

“You’ve been here for two months and you haven’t been to an outdoor club yet?” you ask while unbuckling your seatbelt. That can’t be possible. If you’d been in his shoes… an attractive college student in a foreign country for the summer, you would have gone wild.

“Nope. I’ve been a little busy, y’know, spending my days in a lab, handling chemicals, studying viruses, washing lab equipment, writing up reports for your mother and her colleagues, working on my own research on the side… the usual.” He flashes you a bright, sarcastic smile.

“Poor baby,” you coo, ruffling his hair. Kuroo laughs while you continue messing with the dark locks. “Was your first full day here the only tourist-day you’ve had so far?” His weekends, you already know, are spent either lounging around cafés, pools, or the great outdoors with you or the interns. But you’d assumed he’d had time to do some exploring on his own.

Kuroo nods. “And my guide wasn’t even that great,” he mutters, shooting you a dark look. “She sped through every attraction and hardly spoke a word outside of the tour to me. I think she hated me.”

You giggle and open the door, letting the music from the outdoor speakers infiltrate the bubble inside your car. “Maybe she was just nervous!” you say as you get out. That’s a lie.

“About what?” Kuroo follows suit, the gravel crunching beneath his feet. “I was so friendly to you and you just brushed me off each time.” He pouts.

But you don’t reply. Instead, you just grab his hands and pull him towards the venue. As you step into the boundaries marked by fairy lights and rustic wooden fences, Kuroo stops in his tracks and tugs on your intertwined hands. You glance down before up, trying to memorise how his hand looks around yours in the few seconds you can steal.

“Y/N,” Kuroo says. The strobe lights paint his skin pink, blue, purple like it’s a canvas. “Tell me why you were nervous.” Grammatically, it’s a command. And yet it sounds like he’s begging.

“What’s it mean to you?” you ask, feeling your heartbeat speed up in your chest. So what if you just… said it? What would happen?

“Everything?” he replies with a cheeky smile. The odds that he seriously means that are slim. But… they’re there. You shake that possibility out of your mind. That’s just the hope talking.

“Depends how convincingly you say it.” You tug on his arm. “C’mon. Let’s dance.” But he doesn’t budge–– he just continues to stand by the entrance of the club with an expectant look on his face. People are starting to stare.

“Fine,” you say with an eye roll. “I’ll tell you." Kuroo smirks, something self-congratulatory ready to leave his mouth, but then you let go of his hand and dance backwards into the throng of moving bodies. “But first, you’re gonna have to dance with me!”

You allow yourself to be swallowed by the lively music, the people, the moment. Seconds later you’re deep enough into the crowd that you lose sight of Kuroo. Something in you says that he’ll show up soon, though. For now, you let yourself breathe. Forget about the heaviness of what-if’s, the itch to confess, the dread of the aftermath. Feelings are a lot like gravity. Sometimes they keep you grounded, other times, they weigh you down. This is one of those other times.

You dance up to a friendly-looking group of teens your age. Three guys and two girls. You shout your name and follow up with how it’s nice to meet them, hoping one of them finds you nice enough to keep around. Dancing alone in a club is one of the worst things that can ever happen to someone. Luckily, one of the girls–– the one wearing a purple wig–– pulls you in for a hug, drunkenly shouting back, “Bianca!” Bianca pushes you into their circle next to one of the guys and, just like that, you two start moving to the beat, feeling it in your feet, shoulders, hips. At one point, you turn around and take a good look at his face. The guy’s cute enough, but he’s not Kuroo. Still, you say nothing as he moves closer to you and grabs your hand, lifting it up and motioning for you to twirl.

Suddenly, a pair of hands grip firmly onto your waist and pull you out of the circle. “Hey!” You look down, suddenly realising they’re Kuroo’s. A shiver runs down your spine. He spins you around to face him. His lips are set in a firm line, eyes completely devoid of humour, nostrils slightly flared.

“Hi,” you say quietly, testing the waters.

“Hi,” he replies curtly. His hands are still on your waist. Selfishly, you choose not to point that out. Instead, you try to defuse the situation with a light question. Playful tone.

“Where were you this whole time?”

“Looking for you.”

“Well… you found me.” You flash him a sheepish grin. A peace offering of some sort.

“I did.” He doesn’t take it.

“Lucky you.”

Irritation finally seeps through his features. “You just left me on the dance floor!” he snaps. “And then when I find you after searching the entire venue, you’re dancing up on some random guy!”

“It was in good fun!” you retort, wriggling out of his grip. “And I wasn’t dancing up on him.” You want to ask if he’s jealous so badly, but you take a good look at his face and decide against that.

“Fun?” he asks incredulously. “Worrying about losing you, worrying about myself getting lost, then having to worry about that guy after finding you isn’t very fucking fun to me, Y/N!” The words fly out of his mouth like daggers without pause. Once finished, he looks at you with a disappointed gaze, shaking his head lightly, chest rising and falling with each heavy breath.

“I’m sorry,” you say, looking down at your shoes. It doesn’t matter if you disagree with him–– a sort of shame drills itself so deeply into your conscience that all you can think about is making things right again. “I didn’t think my actions through.”

A second passes. You wonder what he’s thinking.

“Hey, look at me.” Kuroo lifts your chin up with an index finger. Your wide eyes meet his narrow ones. Just as a pink beam glides over his face, his gaze softens, falls down to your lips. And then you feel his thumb on your chin, barely grazing the skin of your bottom lip. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down. The revelry in the background fades to dull beats against your eardrums. Suddenly, you register that he smells of, as usual, blackcurrant and amber.

But now you also smell of blackcurrant and amber.

You’re wearing his clothes. You smell of him.

Kuroo’s eyes crawl back up to yours, wide like he’s just been caught in the middle of a crime. You blink expectantly, ignoring the furious way your heart pounds in your chest. Shallow breaths puff through your slightly parted mouth.

“I am.” It comes out barely a whisper. C’mon. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me––

You gently touch the hand he has on your chin. Kuroo jolts back like he’s been burned. “I’ll, uhm, I’ll be in the car,” he stutters, looking away from your face. He pushes through the sea of people, leaving you all alone on the dance floor, body doused in blue light, fingers touching the area his thumb had been as if preserving its print.

Kuroo hardly notices you slip into the passenger’s seat minutes later. He’s got his forearms hanging over the steering wheel and gaze fixed ahead into the darkness, mind probably running off to a place he wishes his body was, too.

As soon as you’ve buckled yourself in, Kuroo starts the car.

The entire drive home is silent.

Once Kuroo pulls into your courtyard and parks, he turns off the engine, unbuckles his seatbelt, and steps out of the car. Wordlessly, you follow his actions and meet him by the stairs to your door.

“Hi,” you say quietly. He doesn’t look at you.

“Hey.”

The two of you stand outside your front door in silence as you both consider what to say next. This can’t be the way it ends.

“I shouldn’t have… done that,” Kuroo says first.

“Done what?” You choose to play dumb. Call it selfish, but you want to hear him say it. Maybe then it’ll feel as real as it had been. Kuroo sighs and leans his shoulder against the stone wall, crossing his arms over his chest. There’s no way he can dance around what happened. Perhaps the past two months can be summed up as the development of a strong friendship with skilled doublespeak and metaphors and just enough artistic licence, but this can’t. And Kuroo knows that. He can’t feed you an alternative truth like he’s done so many times before. What’s more, he can’t lie to himself anymore. So maybe it’s better just to not speak at all.

Your eyes burn holes into the side of his face. Fine. You’ll concede first. “I was never nervous.”

Kuroo blinks, turns his head around to look at you. “What?”

“I was never nervous. I was playing it cool because I didn’t want to risk befriending you and getting attached.” I’m still playing it cool, you don’t say. And I’m already attached. “Guess I just came off as a bitch instead.” You laugh. “But can you blame me? You were this cute, older guy. Smart, too, since you were interning with my mom. You were my dream guy.”

An amused breath blows out of his nose. “Were?” he questions, grinning, only remembering the fragility of your platonic relationship a second later. “Um––”

“Are.” It slips out of your mouth without you realising. Fuck. Kuroo stills. It’s too late to take back your words now, so you might as well just keep going. “You still are my dream guy.”

Seconds pass and neither of you says anything. Sweat gathers in the palms of your hands. You start to feel your heartbeat through your neck. The buzz of the cicadas grows louder. Oppressive. Behind Kuroo, the sky is starting to turn pale blue and pink in the horizon. That means it’s almost sunrise. The night is almost over, and, hopefully, so is this awful conversation.

“And… you don’t feel the same.” Funnily, you feel like you’re lying. You’re telling Kuroo how he feels and you think you’re lying. Does that make sense? None of this night even feels real. God, you hope this has all just been a dream. Mustering a soft smile, you say, “That’s okay. Thank you for the party. And the adventure.” It was fun while it lasted. You feel the house key in your pocket and turn to unlock the door. “I hope this doesn’t change anything between us, Kuroo. Can we still be friends?” The words leave your mouth feeling like barbed wire. You know damn well you can’t still be friends.

And suddenly, you feel his calloused hands around your cheeks. Suddenly, his hot breath fans over your face.

“Can I kiss you?” he murmurs.

Your eyes close instantly. “Yes, please.”

And suddenly, his soft lips are on yours.

Kuroo breaks the kiss seconds later. “Fuck,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours, touching the tips of your noses together. “Y/N, I don’t want to be friends. Fuck.” A dry chuckle leaves his mouth. He pauses to collect his thoughts but decides that that can wait. Instead, he presses another kiss to your lips so fervently that he backs you up against the wall with no space between your bodies. You wonder if he can feel your heartbeat like this, chest to chest. Kuroo’s hands travel down your waist and rest on your hips. His tongue runs across your tongue, your teeth, the insides of your mouth. You gently suck on it, drawing a satisfied moan from him. When the kiss ends, you see that his lips are red and cheeks are swollen. A warm feeling spreads through your chest. “I thought I could be happy just being friends with you but I can’t. I want you so bad it hurts. Not to mention, when I saw you in my hoodie?” His fingers pinch the material. “I thought God was testing me or some shit.”

“Sure didn’t feel like you wanted me that way,” you retort, still breathless.

“In my defence,” Kuroo says, thumbs tracing your cheekbones, “I was very scared.”

“Of what?”

It looks like he’s about to tell you, but he changes his mind and doesn’t answer. He grabs your hand and pulls you back to the car with a cheeky grin. “I’ll tell you only if you tell me where we can watch the sunrise.”

Kuroo holds your hand, stroking your thumb the entire drive there.

After a short hike, you plop down on the grassy hillside, supporting your body with outstretched arms in the back. Kuroo sits down beside you with one of his hands covering yours, fingers intertwined like a honeysuckle vine around a hazel tree. You tell him that you grew up running along this hill with your parents. It used to be your playground. Maybe, you think, it’s time to make new memories here.

“Beautiful,” Kuroo breathes, a wonderstruck look in his eyes. The sun’s just risen halfway above the pink and blue horizon, the saturated orange casting the entire city below gold. It’s not just the city, though. He’s also gold. He’s just as beautiful. You watch him with a soft smile on your lips, noting how his wide eyes and slack jaw return to normal as he stares off into the distance. After resting your head on his shoulder, you fix your eyes on the sunrise ahead. You wonder what he’s thinking so quietly about.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you finally ask once the sun has finished revealing itself.

Kuroo blinks, returning to reality, but continues to stare straight ahead. “I was just thinking about… soulmates.”

You lift your head off his shoulder. “Don’t tell me you believe in soulmates now,” you tease.

“Hmm.” He turns to look at you, the sun turning his hazel eyes the colour of honey. That same wry smirk from Jack’s returns to his face.

“You wanna know why I was so scared?”

“Pray tell.”

“Because I’ve never felt this way towards anyone.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“No,” Kuroo laughs, laying his head down in your lap, looking up into your eyes. “I’m serious. I used to purposely stay away from girls in high school. Same in college. Same all the way until you somehow wormed your way into my life. That’s why we wouldn’t have been friends.” You cock your head to the side.

“Why?” you ask, running your fingers through his hair.

Kuroo’s eyelids flutter shut. He inhales deeply before talking. “My parents are divorced. The years before the divorce were… very ugly.”

(He spares you the details of the midnight arguments, the smashed plates, the holes in the walls. He spares you the details of how he only ever knew how to fall asleep with his head sandwiched between two pillows, how he hasn’t seen his sister in a decade, how he’ll curse and snap but never yell because he always feels like a child again around the noise. That’s for another time, if you’ll have any.)

“I still remember all the fighting and yelling. For the longest time, that’s all I knew about marriage and relationships.”

“Did you think all relationships were like that? Fighting and yelling?” you ask.

“For a while, yeah. I’m still a little scared of that, to be honest. Ending up in a relationship where all you do is fight.” Kuroo sighs. “But that’s not the only thing. I thought I wouldn’t know how to love someone, growing up like that.” At that, your fingers pause in his hair.

“Wait,” you say, furrowing your brows. A wave of immense sadness (not for yourself, for him) washes over you. “You think you wouldn’t know how to love someone else?”

“Thought.” Kuroo cracks open his eyes and smiles up at you. “I’m in the process of changing my mind.”

#kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou scenarios #kuroo tetsurou imagines #haikyuu!!

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purplerose244 · 3 years

Text

My thoughts on Seabound!!! 🌊🌊🌊 (1/4)

SPOILERS ALERT!!!

Finally Nya's season! Our queen, our water goddess, our amazing girl gets what she deserves! 😍😍😍

What I know about the season beforehand is that Nya's powers apparently are getting problematic for some reasons? Which is a pretty common topic in other shows but it's a first in Ninjago, usually the elemental powers don't have focus and I LOVE that we now get to see stuff like that 💕💕💕

I know there should be Wojira involved, trusting The Island to deliver that little foreshadowing at the end of the episode 🤷‍♀️ Also Maya is back... MAYA IS FINALLY BACK AFTER SEVEN SEASONS YES!!! 😭😭😭

I have nothing else to say, I have no idea what this will bring, hopefully something as good as Master of the Mountain! 🖤

Alright, here we go!

GENERAL THOUGHTS

Warning reader, I might be fangirling to an extreme because I love mah girl Nya and I've been wanting Kai and Nya's parents to be back ever since Hands of Time ended. So yeah... screaming alert 😅

At this point I don't doubt that the intro is great, we reached such a level of animation and we got The Fold 😍😍 Love the marine vibe and how it's similar to The Island, because it's a great intro ��

NOW I like the writing! Maybe they rushed the dialogue's quality for The Island to get here? It's just fun and in character, maybe it's just me but I'm enjoying it a lot for now

How many episodes are in this? Wiki says ten, then I checked again and it's sixteen like with Master of Mountain... eh, it looks good so far so it's fine whatever happens 🤷‍♀️

A BIG SPLASH

Oohhh, new villain! One that uses... flames... huh, does she know there's literally a master of fire in the ninja team? Eh whatever she looks cute, give it up for Miss Demeanor!! 👏👏

Wait... OMG IS THAT ERIN MATTHEWS??? WE GOT MACY!! ❤❤❤

Whoa, we're finding out where did the order of the vengestone from season 13 come from?? YAS! CONTINUITY!

Yep, there it is, Nya lost control... her attacks look so cool 😍

Lol that kid trying to be a nindroid and Zane being offended 😂😂 Sorry hun, you're that popular

Aaahhh, thank you Ninjago! You gave me back Nya the perfectionist 😂 I was worried her reaction to her powers wasn't going to be in character but it looks fair so far. Brings me back to Possession, my favorite season 💙💙💙

WE GOT BACK THE FACT THAT SHE CAN MAKE IT RAIN!!! YAS!!! I might be easy to please but I love these details 🤩

🤯🤯🤯 Okay they are definitely going somewhere this time and I LOVE IT, because wow. WOW. Are we actually addressing the forever questioned fact that wind and water weren't elements that Chen needed at the Tournament? Are we giving a reason for them to exist outside the main set of elements and the elemental masters?? Duuuude, season 15 don't let me stop you, keep going 😍

Mm, so water and wind are connected to Wojira (now I see the connection with the special). Are we setting the ground for a new master of wind? 😏😏 It's risky going for a Morro replacement but it's a super intriguing idea! Oooor Edgy Boy TM might come back? WHO KNOWS I'M CURIOUS ANYWAY 🤩

Love how it is universal knowledge that Nya is super indipendent 👌

YES YES FINALLY WE'RE TALKING ABOUT MAYA!!! 😍😍😍 Is it too much hoping into a Ray cameo as well?? Pleaaaase? Also addressing Krux after so many seasons, this feels exciting!! 😊

This is what I'm talking about, training, fighting scenes, show me everything that water goddess can do! 🌊🌊🌊

Aaahhh, Nya flexing her mightiness through anger, just to remind us that she is the descendant of a water master as much as of a fire master 😅

YES YES YES YES IT'S HAPPENING FINALLY AFTER SEVEN SEASON THE FIRE WATER PARENTS ARE FINALLY BACK!!! 🔥🌊🔥🌊🔥🌊 I'M SO HAPPY I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR SO LONG!!! 😭

RAY IS THERE TOO HECK YES!!!! 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍 I shouldn't get this excited at only the first episode... WHO CARES RAY IS BAAAAACK!!! ❤❤❤

Omg Maya is definitely different from what I expected, turns out Kai's enthusiasm came from her 😂

Oh look at my flame babe 😍

He's so happy his parents are here, he's a total family man ❤❤❤

Nya is maaaaad... 😅

THERE SHE IS

WELCOME BACK JILLIAN I MISSED YOU 💚💚💚 Would it be too much having a "Your voice sounds familiar" moment with Maya and Lloyd? 😂

I'm so stoked for this! I want all the interactions I've missed for all of this time, asap!! HECK yes!! 😍😍😍😍

Oh, are we looking over the Miss Demeanor, vengestone situation? Mm... for now at least... WHO CARES FIRE WATER PARENTS!! 🔥🌊🔥🌊🔥🌊

THE CALL OF THE DEEP

Imma just slow clap for The Fold because this is another amazing intro, one of those things in this show that stays awesome no matter what happens 👍👍

So Maya gave Nya her discipline and perfectionism, but not the passion behind it 😂 I like this, it's not your conventional master of water, although I'd say it's different from the impression she gave me back in HoT. Maybe this is how she is when she's not trapped for fifty years? 😅😅

Is it too much asking for Kai and Ray bonding while the water women get the work done? 😅😅

Is this the sequel of Green Eggs and Ham?

Green Pancakes and Ham? 😂

Oh it's seaweed nevermind... at breakfast? I'm all for sushi rolls but this is a little 😅 Although since Maya missed their childhood she probably never cooked meals for them... how did I get myself sad 😢

Whoa, Maya is a strict teacher! I got flashbacks from my first and only dance lesson, teachers nitpicking every single pose, uuurrrggg I feel ya waterlily 😡

Again, not a fan of Misako, but coming from her the whole speech about wanting to be there for her child makes a lot of sense

Yes. YES.

YEEEEESSSS KAI AND RAY FAMILY BONDING THIS IS EVERYTHING I'VE EVER WANTED I'M GETTING ALL OF MY WISHES GRANTED FOR THIS ONE ❤🔥❤🔥❤🔥❤🔥❤🔥❤

AND MY FLAME BABE IS SO GLAD HE GOT HIS PARENTS!!! 😭😭😭

Lol with Kai's new hair they look even more related 🤣

Ray also sounds so happy he gets to have his moment with his son 😢 I feel so blessed in this moment 👍

Also this scene makes a lot of sense. Nya grew up to be indipendent, one that succeed in most of stuff without problems, she built her life without any help and doesn't look for it. Kai grew up more insecure, he got some walls up but loves to take care of others and be taken care of. With a childhood lost he looks forward to a bit of softness ❤❤

Did Maya make real bacon for that sandwich? Do I smell some favoritism? 😅 Or maybe she really wants Nya to get onto the water mind setting idk 🤷‍♀️

Little tiny complain, why isn't Jay doing the fixing? Did he give up mechanics completely? It feels like we haven't seen him do tech stuff in so long, I miss techy boy in action 😞

And no, having to check on the bathroom doesn't count 😅

Aww robot date 💜🤍💜🤍

AAAHH ROBOT DISASTER 😱😱�� ZANE DANG IT YOU WERE DOING SO GOOD NOT TRYING TO DIE IN THE LAST TWO SEASONS!!

Oh that was weird, weird magic purple wave thingie?

I DID NOT ASK FOR A SEASON WITH A BEST GIRL AT THE EXPENCE OF ANOTHER BEST GIRL PIX DON'T YOU DARE DO THIS TO ME 😱😱😱😱😱

"Well this is troubling." I love this samurai so freaking much 💜💜💜

GUYS THIS IS ONLY THE SECOND EPISODE, I'M A LITTLE SCARED NOW 😢

Okay Nya admitting that something's wrong looking so apologetic, girl you don't need to do that you already own my heart 😭

Alright, I'm guessing this is Wojira's power or something, and they will have to go down below and find out why... just throwing this in, maybe Maya did something? Because she wanted to finally be with her family and needed an excuse? JUST A THEORY WITH NO BASE I REALLY HOPE I'M WRONG!!!

Okay, two episodes and I'm BEYOND engaged, let's keep it up! 😍

UNSINKABLE

Getting an idea how this episode might end already 😂😂

Look, I love best girl Pixal, but I'm kinda sad that she seems to be the only one tinkering at this point. Like, I saw Nya fix little stuff, while Jay dropped engineering altogether, I miss my engineers team 😭

Aww, the guys didn't want to crush Pixal's dream of an unsinkable boat 💜 But honestly yeah, I agree with Cole, this might end badly 😅😅

Thank goodness

I was worried they forgot about Jaya ❤💙❤💙 Jay is such a cutie omg

Nya: Mm, going on a potentially dangerous mission with unstable powers in the heart of my element or... mom's tofu pancakes... *yeets herself over the ship*

I'm making too many screenshots of the Smith family... WHO CARES THEY ARE BACK AND THEY ALL LOOK SO GOOD!!! 😍😍😍😍

Aww Ray wants to play with his son and his friends so CUTE ❤❤❤ Still can't believe they play Prime Empire after everything that went down 😂😂

Whoa whoa whoa, Kai and Cole are sitting this one out? That's actually interesting, I'm pretty sure I saw Cole's scuba suit in the sets though so I didn't expect it... lol it's actually kinda fair that the two that used to be afraid of water aren't going 😂😂

Bet Kai is happy to stay behind because he gets to spend time with his dad 😭

Also studying the fire elementals?? Uhm, yes please?? TELL ME EVERYTHING ABOUT MY FLAME BABE!!! 😍😍😍😍

I'm sure this one scene...

... made so many lavashippers happy ❤🖤❤🖤 Cole you got Ray's blessing

Ninja team acting cool while Jay is being Jay, it's how it always goes, it's the entire show's description and I absolutely love it 😂 That wink though 💙

PIRATE ZANE IS BACK 😂😂😂 Haven't seen him since Possession, and this time he's not even malfunctioning 👌 Pixal is so done with his dorky boyfriend 😝

Of course Jay already has a ghost butler theory going on 😂

OF COURSE IT'S MAYA 😂😂

To be honest muffins would sold me too 😅 Not sure if she will make them out of tofu again though...

It's actually really interesting that we still haven't met the actual enemies, it does build up excitment! Very curious about these squid guys 👍

Well what do you know, the Unsinkable sank. Who would have thought?

... yeah same, sorry Pix 😅

FIVE THOUSANDS FATHOMS DOWN

Aaaahhh, Nya fixing stuff! That's more like it!! 😍😍

Oww, that one speech, I've been waiting for so long for that! Maya just wants to catch up with her daughter and it's not her fault she was separated from her children, but Nya did everything on her own with Kai. Only fair she isn't seeking for her help right now... still sad 😢

Pff, with this ninja team there's not a moment of privacy 😂😂

Maya cleaning his future son-in-law's laundry what the HECK 😂😂😂 To be fair Jay has a bit of a history of having to change underwears during sea travels 😝

Zane was attached to a battery? When?... are you talking about that one scene in Prime Empire? Cause that's not really a flashback I wanna ha- whoops never mind got the flashback 😱

Maya looks more calm now, I think she's trying to act more reasonable and she's got good points 👍 I know people were a little weirded out by how more cheerful she looks in comparison to Hands of Time, but I think she gets the most serious and rational when time needs. That's actually fascinating of her 🤔

CALLING OUT AN ATTEMPTED MURDER

THIS GIRL IS TOO GORGEOUS MY HEART CAN'T TAKE IT 🤩🤩🤩 Like my gosh that smirk, what the heck Pix 💜💜💜

Okay but Jay looking at Nya until the doors are completely closed?? CAN YOU FEEL MY JAYA HEART BEATING?? ❤💙❤💙

Whoa green gas I thought this was Nya's season 😂

MAYA WHY ARE YOU SAYING THIS STUFF YOU'RE SCARING ME 😱😱😱 I SWEAR LEGO IF YOU BROUGHT BACK WATER MOM JUST TO KILL HER OFF I'M GONNA SUE YOU 😭😭😭

I really REALLY like the atmosphere of the entrante of the temple! Super sealike and ancient! 🌊🌊🌊

Maya: off we go, into the spooky old temple! (Why does it feel like something Kai would say? 😂)

Oh gee, someone sleeping in the deep, who could that be? Coff Wojira coff

Whoa the jellyfishes look pretty lifelike!

HERE HE COMES

WELCOME BACK GILES!!! ONCE AGAIN ON A LEGO SHOW I MISSED YOU SO MUCH YOU AND YOUR GODLIKE VOICE!!! 😍😍😍😍 Gosh he's a villain but he's got Clay's voice, how can I even try to hate him?? 😅

Alright, knocking down my water girls, that is pretty hateful material... BUT CLAAAYYY 💙💙💙

So they need the two amulets to wake up Wojira? Isn't one on the island? Fire dad and son coming to the rescue? WHO KNOWS BUT I'M ENJOYING THIS A LOT SO FAR KEEP GOING SEABOUND 😍😍😍

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kalee60 · 3 years

Note

Kalee. Kal. Hi. Hello.

So I recently got a Tiktok because all the kids these days are doing it and my sister keeps sending me videos 🤦🏼‍♀️🙄 I know.

Anyways

There’s apparently this challenge.

Kalee.

It’s a kiss your best friend challenge.

And all I can think is:

Steve and Bucky.

It could be canon verse. It could be an au.

But like imagine. If you haven’t seen the videos it’s super cute but also cringy because like what if it doesn’t go over well, it would be awkwardddd! They basically just film themselves hangout with their best friend and then try to kiss them and see if they’ve secretly been pining too.

Imagine.

Claire - my gorgeous pocket rocket from the Big Apple 🍎

This ask (that you sent eons ago) could not just be answered with a simple - 'omg, yes - I know right - it's the perfect Stucky scenario - someone should write it'... Because well - I guess somehow it turned out that I could write a little something...

I hope you enjoy this, because without your cheerleading, your throwing of pom poms and generally screaming at me in comments and on here - well writing wouldn't be half as much fun.

So for you Claire - enjoy this little story of two boys, a kiss in the making and a TikTok account 😘

~*~*~*~*~

Nerves rode Bucky as he placed his phone down into the perfect position; camera at the ready, not pressing record yet - but waiting for the signal. Steve was doing the exact same with his phone, only from a slightly different angle, setting it up for their parkour trick - something they were going to post to TikTok later. But although Steve was under the impression he was about to perform a flip off Bucky’s shoulders to grab hold of a tree branch then scale the fifteen foot wall beside it - Bucky had other ideas.

He’d seen a new TikTok challenge that week, it was plastered all over the platform and filled his suggested videos, and since the first time he’d watched one, then devoured another fifty straight away, he’d secretly wanted to do it. Wanted to throw all caution to the wind and seize the moment.

Today was that day.

Bucky Barnes was going to kiss Stevie Rogers right on the lips. His best friend since middle school, the boy, now man that he’d secretly loved for over a decade - and although Bucky could have thought of a million different ways to show Steve how he felt - he’d just never had the courage. At least if the video bombed, he could still put it up as a laugh and hopefully Steve would see the joke and it wouldn’t ruin their friendship - hopefully.

So Bucky waited for Steve to finish fiddling with his phone and camera positioning, which was taking him longer than usual to set up, trying to not let the butterflies in his gut take over.

Steve finally looked up, face flushed red like he’d already performed the stunt and Bucky was struck dumb, staring at how beautiful Steve was in the afternoon sunlight. He became lost in the way the shadows from the trees created patterns across Steve’s tightly toned body, the slight wind whispering to Bucky to take his chance, to not mess it up. And Steve stood before him like a golden god, nervously splaying his fingers, cracking his knuckles while staring back at Bucky with an unreadable expression on his face. Was he worried about their trick?

“You okay, Pal?” Bucky asked, his voice faltering with the knowledge he was about to change everything - or nothing.

Steve nodded, eyes wide and bright, darting over Bucky’s face, and Bucky took a moment to bask at being in Steve’s full attention.

“Yep,” Steve popped the ‘p’ and ran a hand through his hair, blonde strands sticking up comically, but Bucky didn’t laugh, he’d never seen someone as breathtaking as Steve did in that moment.

Steve was Bucky’s true north, a steady and unrelenting force at his side - but it went both ways. They’d been through family deaths, relationship fallouts, fights and everything in between, but the one thing that was always unbroken - was they were in it together. No matter what life threw at them, Steve and Bucky were as solid as rock. Unshakable.

And Bucky was probably about to screw it all up.

They closed in on each other, coming to a standstill until only a foot separated them; Steve’s huge blue eyes darted quickly between Bucky’s; there was something different about the look, intense, and Bucky wondered if his own nerves were obvious and Steve was suddenly unsure about the acrobatic feat they were attempting.

“You still want to do this? Haven’t changed your mind?” Bucky asked to make sure, and was surprised when Steve licked his lips and shook his head emphatically.

“No, I’m sure - more sure than I’ve ever been about anything.”

Bucky smiled, Steve being dramatic about their parkour tricks was not unusual, but the way Steve’s cheek twitched and how his foot tapped on the ground was not normal behaviour. And Bucky couldn’t help but start to worry that his idea to surprise-kiss Steve wasn’t the greatest one, wasn’t something he should be trying, as it seemed Steve was janky - wound up.

“Alright, Stevie. If you’re sure.”

Resolve filled Steve’s features as they both turned on their cameras, and once set up, Steve took an almost hesitant step forward.

Bucky held his breath.

It was the moment of truth.

They’d practised the trick so many times, had to start toe to toe for it to work, Steve pushing off Bucky to sprint to the wall, running vertically up the side of it, to twist around and jump off Bucky’s shoulders and flip onto the tree branch, shoving off it then using his momentum to run up the rest of the wall. Finally gripping the lip and climbing over it.

They’d gone over it at least thirty times.

No injuries as of yet.

But this time, just as Steve pressed forward, Bucky yanked him in - at the exact same time as Steve flew forward, completely catching Bucky off guard as he was heading in the wrong direction than expected, he was moving towards Bucky instead of pushing away - and their heads slammed together with a loud thud.

And instead of taking the defeat of the moment graciously, Bucky was in too deep, had waited too long, had it all planned out - and so as Steve rubbed his forehead looking as mortified at what had transpired as Bucky, Bucky once again leant forward. Only to find Steve pitching towards him too, and for the second time in less than three seconds their skulls cracked against the other.

“- holy shit, Barnes. Are you going to let me kiss you or not?”

“- Steve you fucking menace, I’m trying to kiss you!”

The silence was deafening as their words mingled together and wide ocean blue eyes met stormy silt infused grey-blue ones in shock.

“- what did you…?”

“- did you just...?”

Once again talking at the same time, they both trailed off, and the words started to sink into Bucky’s fried brain. Steve was trying to kiss him. Him.

Slack jawed, he could only stare at Steve whose expression mimicked his own, clearly having come to the same realisation about Bucky. He managed to swallow the obscenely thick lump in his throat and with a small tremor in his hand, reached up to place it on Steve’s forehead where a red mark was forming - rubbing the spot gently with his thumb. Steve’s eyes softened and his shoulders relaxed.

With the last tendrils of fear slipping away, Bucky trailed his fingers down the side of Steve’s face before reaching behind his head, gripping the base of Steve’s neck. Then stopped.

Steve’s breathing laboured, coming in sharp and Bucky tightened his grip, loving the way Steve’s eyes fluttered half shut before they opened again, trying not to lose contact with Bucky’s.

Steve was stunning, so responsive and Bucky licked his lips, loving how Steve’s attention snagged on his mouth immediately.

“Can I?” Bucky husked, and Steve nodded jerkily when Bucky’s fingers played with the silky strands of Steve’s hair as he leant in.

The first meeting of their lips lacked the pain of slammed heads and teeth - but it was perfect in every way. Steve’s lips were plush, soft and pliant under Buckys as Bucky took control of the kiss, pressing forward into Steve’s heat. Bucky’s other hand came up to cup Steve’s face tenderly, unable to express how it felt to be kissing his lifelong friend after so many years of yearning for it, Bucky almost at the point where he thought it could never happen. The fact Steve kissed him back - enthusiastically, made his heart thump louder and harder until it was all he could hear in his mind.

After a moment, Bucky pulled away, resting his forehead on Steve’s, mindful of the tender place they’d cracked heads minutes earlier, and couldn’t stop the rasped laugh that escaped.

“You laughing at the way I kiss, Barnes?” Steve sassed with a smile in his voice.

Bucky chuckled, “no, not at all.” He paused a second to gather his thoughts, “I just can’t believe I set this up to kiss you on camera for TikTok, so damn nervous the whole time you’d freak out and punch me - and you were doing the exact same thing.”

Steve grinned and pulled away enough so that he could stare into Bucky’s eyes, the emotion shining from his beautifully clear expression stole the breath from Bucky’s lungs.

“How long?” Steve asked with a whisper. And Bucky wanted to lie, to tell him it wasn’t long, that he’d only just realised if only to stop himself looking too much like a sap.

He didn’t lie.

“The day you punched Deon Franklin when he asked me for a tongue kiss while calling me those terrible names.”

Steve’s stunned look spoke volumes, “Bucky. We were sixteen.”

“And…?” Bucky winced at Steve’s incredulous tone.

Suddenly Steve laughed hysterically, and Bucky started to back up, but before he got too far, Steve grabbed his biceps stopping him in his tracks. “Oh no you dont. You do know why I punched him right?”

“Because he was a dick?”

“Well apart from that.” Steve said wryly and took a deep breath, letting Bucky go. “It’s because he upset you. And I was desperate for your attention - wanted that kiss he so crudely demanded as a joke.”

“What…” Bucky stammered out, “You wanted me back then too?”

Steve smiled indulgently at him. “You didn’t think I stuck around just for your personality did you?”

Bucky roared with laughter, elated at the turn of events and grabbed Steve, slamming their mouths together, and soon the kiss morphed from chaste and exploratory to something meaner, something heavier. Pushing Steve up against the tree, the small noise from Steve’s throat as the bark dug into his skin set something feral off in Bucky and he kissed deeper, shoving his tongue further until both of them struggled for air.

A loud beeping infiltrated Bucky’s hearing and he reluctantly pulled away, adoring the slack jawed and glazed look in Steve’s eyes way too much. Wanting Steve to look up at him with that exact same expression but with a lot less clothing and a lot more privacy in place.

“Want to do the trick still?” Bucky questioned as he walked over and grabbed his phone to stop the alert that he was running out of video. When Steve didn’t answer he looked back over his shoulder and almost dropped his phone.

Steve was leaning limp against the tree, clearly half hard and staring after Bucky like he’d just gifted him the world. When in actual fact, it was Steve who’d done that for him.

Bucky stalked back over, gripping Steve’s chin, kissing him soundly one more time, and Steve immediately went pliant under his touch, oh boy, they were going to have so much fun.

“How about instead, we go back to mine and see what other tricks we can come up with?”

Steve’s breathing came in faster and harder and a broken ‘yes’ worked its way out of his throat, Bucky catching the word in his mouth as he kissed Steve again.

Bucky smirked as he pulled away, helping Steve stand upright.

“But, only on the condition that we tape it.” Steve said in a voice deep and rich, and Bucky was suddenly on the back foot when Steve smiled deliciously at him, eyes full of dirty promises.

Dry mouthed and vibrating from anticipation, Bucky followed Steve to his car, walking in a slight daze at what had transpired in only twenty minutes.

And all Bucky was certain of, was that although his TikTok kiss hadn’t gone to plan - everything else would fall into place.

Just the way it was meant to.

#Claire - this is all your fault - look what you made me do!!#stucky #Steve x Bucky #friends to lovers #tiktok challenge drabble/fic #mutual pining #mywriting #something silly #Claire i love you ❤️#i have the most amazing friends who inspire me to write this fluffy crap 🥰#kalee answers

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house-of-galathynius · 3 years

Text

Only You ~ Rowaelin

A Rowaelin fanfic, set if Aelin’s parents had lived and she had met Rowan under normal circumstances, if Erawan and Maeve weren’t threats. Hope you enjoy!

@jesstargaryenqueen @sailorsassley @sjmships @tomtenadia @endlessdaydream @aflickeringsoul @tillyrubes10 @fredweasleyhasadhd @rowaelin-cressworth @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @rowaelinismyotp @rosegoldannie @maryberry @viajandosinalas @becarefuloflove @allthebooksunderthemoon @sheharahu @swankii-art-teacher @superspiritfestival

Chapter Fifteen ~ Bridges

Chapter Fourteen ~ Chapter Sixteen

The air was cold and the snow whipped around Aelin’s face as she made her way through the forest to the gate that lead to the city. She had debated using her old shortcut across the river, but it had felt too much like old habits.

Rowan walked by her side, his body a solid presence beside her. He had not said a word since they had left, she had figured it was nothing to do with her but more to do with seeing Sam — who had not made a good first impression on the fae male.

Their footsteps crunched in the snow and Aelin was thankful for her flame in times like these. Rowan seemed unfazed by the cold wind that blew around them— she supposed with his ice magic he was used to it.

The gate had been left open, the wind banging it against the post. Rowan held it open for her and she slipped through. Rowan was a couple of steps behind her but she could feel his gaze on her. She twirled round and stopped.

“You don’t have to do this. I can go alone.”

He shook his head. “You’re not going alone.” He stepped around her and continued towards Orynth.

Aelin jogged to catch up with him, pushing her hair from her face. “Nothing will happen. He’s not going to do anything. I can also protect myself.”

“I’m not worried about that. I know you can protect yourself.”

She rolled her eyes. “Then why are you coming? Sam is going to think—“ She paused.

“What?” Rowan stopped in his tracks.

“You’re jealous.” Aelin made her way to stand in front of him. “You don’t want me to be alone with Sam.”

“Can I not just accompany my mate somewhere without being questioned?”

Aelin laughed. “Of course. But you don’t have to lie to me, I actually find it sweet.”

He glared at her. “It’s not sweet and I’m not here because I’m jealous.”

Aelin began walking ahead. “Whatever you say, Rowan.”

He growled and grasped her arm to spin her around. “I’m not jealous. I just can’t stand the thought of you alone with him after how he made you feel and what he said.”

Aelin tried not to smile at his protectiveness.

“I don’t know why you look so happy about this.”

She nudged his side. “Because I kind of like protective Rowan, it’s a new side to you.” Aelin wrapped her arm through his own. “But you don’t have to feel worried about Sam, he’s harmless. Our romantic ship has sailed and what he said to me… it was probably warranted — considering everything.”

He let out a hmph but held her closer. “I still don’t like how he spoke to you. And I know nothing romantic is going on, but if it was me going to see someone I had been intimate with, would you be totally okay with it?”

Aelin didn’t have a response to that. He was right. She hated the thought of Rowan being with anyone else, or even being in the same room as a woman he had bedded before.

“We’ve only been mated for a few weeks Aelin, the first years can be volatile for a male. So you have to be patient with me.”

Aelin didn’t respond. Houses and small shops started to line the streets as they made their way further into Orynth. The snow was heavier than before, the flakes settling on the cobbled path, the sky dark with clouds.

“Maybe you should wait outside whilst I go in.”

They had stopped outside of the library, the familiar oak door, the sign above, it felt odd to be here during the day— Aelin had been so used to sneaking here in the dead of night, praying that no one would spot her as she crept through the streets of Orynth. Aelin tried not to dwell on the wave of sorrow that went through her. She hadn’t realised she missed it as much as she did. Sam knew her as well as anyone, and she hadn’t realised she missed talking and laughing with him. She lost a friend in the process and it tore at her. She stared at the door a moment longer before turning herself to Rowan.

“I won’t be long.” She raised herself onto her tiptoes and planted a soft kiss on Rowan’s mouth. “I love you.”

Rowan’s lips lingered on hers a moment longer before he pulled away.

It was still early in the day and she knew the library would be quiet for a while longer. She hesitated slightly before stepping inside and she sighed at the familiar scent of old books, she took a moment to take it in. It was still one her favourite smells, it felt like a warm embrace.

She couldn’t see anyone inside, the towering bookshelves obscured most of the space; the dark wooden shelves reaching almost to the ceiling, ladders lining those same shelves. It felt like years since she had been here, but it had been less than two months, the thought was jarring— it had been so little time since she had been here… and yet how fast things had changed.

She heard the shuffling of feet somewhere further into the library and her heart began beating faster, her palms becoming sweaty as she anticipated the meeting.

She hadn’t forgotten the last time they had spoken. The way he had looked at her, grovelling on the floor, Aelin begging him not to walk away, the look of utter disgust in his eyes. His parting words to her still stung, and yet there was a sense of anticipation in seeing him again. She took in a long breath and continued forward, stopping when Sam’s figure emerged from an aisle, his face obscured in the shadows. He didn’t see her straight away, his hands full of books as he scanned a different shelf.

She hesitated momentarily.

“Hey, Sam.”

He stilled, his head turning to observe her. His hair was messy and she could see small clumps of dust from where he’d been digging through piles of old books. She stepped closer to him, giving him a small smile as she did.

“Do you have time to talk?” She brushed her hand down the spine of a book as she spoke.

Sam paused before placing the books on the trolley that had been sat to the side of him.

“It won’t take long, but it’s important.”

He looked out behind her, his eyes narrowing at what he saw outside. She turned to look as well. Rowan stood with his arms crossed against the pillar, his eyes locked on Sam.

Sam cleared his throat once. “Have you come to finish what Aedion started?”

Aelin felt her shoulders drop. “Of course not. I actually need your help.”

He turned to walk away, Aelin trailing behind him.

“I’m busy.”

She scoffed. “You look it.”

“I’m sorry if I don’t feel inclined to come to your rescue Aelin. Everything considered, I think I’m being polite.”

Aelin caught his wrist before he walked away again. “Please Sam. Just five minutes.”

He brought his other hand to where she held his wrist and pried her hand off, shoving it away. “I said no. Please just go.”

“Sam…”

“I said get out.” His voice rose as he spoke. His hand shaking slightly as he pointed to the door. “I don’t want to ever see you again, do you understand? Get out of my Gods-damned store and don’t ever think of coming here again.”

The sound of the shop bell rang out in the quiet and heavy footsteps followed.

“You dare speak to her like that?” Aelin didn’t have time to stop Rowan as he stormed toward Sam. “I’ve told you once before and I will say it again. Watch how you speak to your future queen.”

“Rowan.” Aelin hissed.

“So you came to rub it in my face?” Sam scoffed. “I never took you as the type to do such a thing. But I guess there were a lot of things I was wrong about with you.”

Rowan let out a growl. “You are out of line.”

Aelin tried to shove Rowan away, but he stayed firmly where he was. His eyes never leaving Sam’s.

“Sam listen to me. It’s Lysandra.” Sam briefly looked to her, his brows rising slightly. “She’s the one that needs your help. But she couldn’t be here to ask herself.”

Sam backed off slightly, his posture relaxing ever so slightly. “Send your guard dog home and I’ll consider listening to what you have to say.”

Aelin glanced at Rowan, giving a brief nod of her head. She wasn’t in danger, and having Rowan here was making everyone more tense than necessary.

“I won’t be far.”

Sam gave a sarcastic smile. “I’m sure you won’t.”

Aelin gave Rowan another weary look, trying to hasten his exit. When the door slammed closed she let out a breath. She could see Sam assessing the situation once more, he watched intently as Rowan walked down the street and then disappearing into the alley.

“Can we sit?” Aelin asked hopefully.

“No. You can talk to me here.”

Aelin let out a huff and found a stool to perch on anyway whilst Sam stood leaning against a wall, his arms crossed and looking anywhere but at her. She didn’t have the energy to argue with him— it was not why she had come.

“Why does Lysandra need help?”

Aelin hesitated slightly before coming out with it. “She’s pregnant. And she doesn’t want anyone in the palace knowing about it, and there’s nowhere else she can go where it can be kept a secret.”

“And why would it be any better here? Surely the same problems arise no matter where she goes.” He shifted his arms to his side and stood up straighter. “Can’t she just marry whoever the father is?”

Aelin shrugged. “Maybe. But you know Lysandra, she doesn’t want to burden anyone and I don’t think she feels like she is good enough for them.”

Sam gave her a curious look. “Who’s the father, Aelin?”

“I’m sure it comes as no surprise to you. But Aedion is the father.”

Sam let out a short laugh. “Not a surprise at all.” He slid down the wall and sat on the floor, stretching out his legs. “I don’t see why they couldn’t just get married. Lysandra is basically your sister, everyone loves her.”

“Not everyone loves her. There are a lot of people who would be opposed to the marriage— especially now…” She trailed off, not sure how to continue.

“You can say it.”

She thought for a moment. “Especially now that I can be of no use to marry for an alliance. A lot of the lords are hoping Aedion will marry a foreign princess and make alliances instead. Convincing them to give Aedion and Lysandra their blessing will be hard.”

“I still fail to see where I come into this.”

“Lysandra just wants somewhere to lay low for a while. But we need her to be within reach of healers and we need to be able to see her without suspicion… and you were the best idea we came up with. Or actually, the best idea Rowan came up with.”

Sam shook his head. “He probably just wants to keep a closer eye on me. Make sure I don’t start moving in on you.”

Aelin couldn’t help the redness in her cheeks. “You wouldn’t do that. You’re too good of a man to try and steal someone away.”

“Or not enough of a man to keep them in the first place.”

Aelin was silent for a moment. “You know that’s not true.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t have you anymore, so I’d say it is.”

“You were the last person I wanted to hurt.” Her voice somber.

He shrugged. “I think we both knew things were coming to an end anyway. I couldn’t be what you needed. I was making you give up too much to be with me, and it was unfair to do that.”

Aelin slid off the stool and onto the floor next to him. “You have no idea how much I wanted the life you told me about. To travel the world and have a family, live on a little farm with our animals, living completely free. I wanted it all.” She played with the hem of her sleeves. “I had so many arguments with my parents about not wanting to be the heir, begging them to give it to Aedion or to Elide. I was so in love with you, Sam, and it pains me that I couldn’t give you the life you wanted either.” She glanced to the side, Sam was already staring back at her. His eyes turning watery. “I wanted to tell you about Rowan. I had planned a whole speech and was going to explain everything to you.”

He wiped at his eyes. “I didn’t mean to be so cruel that night. I was angry because I’d foolishly thought I could come to you and convince you that we were it, that it didn’t matter about ranks or thrones or any of that— I was going to try and sweep you off your feet and hope you would change your mind.” Sam closed his eyes, rubbing a hand down his face. “I think we were doomed from the start, weren’t we?”

She gave him a half smile. “Maybe,” she leant forward. “But if I could go back… I would never change any of it. You made me very happy Sam, and I will be grateful that I was able to be loved by you.”

Sam looked at her then, studying her face for a moment. “It was an honour to be loved by you, too. It really was.” He smiled at her, a smile she hadn’t seen in a long time. “He better treat you right. Or I’ll have no choice but to beat him.”

Aelin laughed, a deep hearty laugh. “He’s certainly no match for you Sam.”

Sam laughed too and the two of them laughed together, just like they had before. And when they managed their composure, their laughs giving way to silence, Sam stood and offered his hand to Aelin; she took it gladly, savouring the touch, remembering the feel of his hand in hers.

“Lysandra can stay here for as long as she likes. You and Aedion are welcome to visit whenever you want. But maybe you can leave Rowan behind… I’m not sure I’m ready for that just yet.”

Aelin nodded in understanding. “Thank you, Sam.” She didn’t give him time to stop her as she wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace. Nuzzling her head into his neck like she used to, breathing in his scent. “You don’t know how much it means to me.”

Sam wrapped his arms around her, squeezing gently. “I would do anything for you, Aelin.”

She pulled away. “I know. And if there’s ever anything you need…”

Sam smiled in reply. “I guess you better get going,” he nodded in the vague direction of Rowan. “Don’t want to keep him waiting.”

Aelin snorted. “I’m sure he’ll survive.”

“Should I expect Lys this evening?”

“She’ll be here before dinner I imagine. I’ll stop by tomorrow and let you know the details of what will happen.” She paused before the door. “You just have to say the word and we’ll figure something else out. I know this is a huge imposition on you.”

Sam just shook his head. “It’s fine. It’ll be nice to have some company around here for once.”

Aelin pulled the door open and the cold winter air wrapped itself around her. The snow was falling faster and the streets were covered in a thick blanket of white now. “I’ll see you soon.” She lifted a hand in farewell and stepped into the frigid winter air.

She paused a moment, composing herself before finding Rowan. She was relieved that Sam was okay. That he wasn’t angry at her, and that they were able to be civil. Perhaps in time they’d find their way back to friends— but she wouldn’t push it.

She found Rowan waiting in an alley a couple of streets down from the library. She had followed his scent, finding him leaning against a brick wall, inspecting a dagger she had not realised he had been carrying.

“I hope you put that away when people come past.”

He twirled the dagger between his fingers before slipping it into the inside of his jacket. “I know how to behave in front of people, Aelin.” He pushed off the wall and ran his gaze over her. “You’re okay?”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “I told you he wouldn’t hurt me.” She still slipped her hand into his own and pulled them toward the street. “Everything is fine. Lysandra can stay there as long as she likes. I’ll inform my healer that she’ll be needing to make a trip into the city every couple of weeks, and come up with something to tell Orlon and the other court members.”

Rowan looked skeptical. “This plan works fine until she actually has the child. How do you explain then?”

“By the time she has the baby we will have thought of something. Perhaps they’ll get married and then it won’t be a problem.”

“I thought you said the lords would never approve a marriage between them?”

“I can be quite persuasive.”

Rowan didn’t say anything as they walked through the streets of Orynth. Aelin stopped at one shop to pick up Lysandra’s favourite chocolates and snuck some for herself into the purchase.

The streets were quiet as they meandered through. The snow enough to keep people away and inside their homes, huddling by the fires, if the smoke from the chimneys was anything to go by.

Just as they were reaching the edge of the city, Rowan let go of her hand and exclaimed there was something he had to do, telling her to go ahead and he would see her at the palace. Aelin had narrowed her eyes at him and reluctantly agreed. Giving him a chaste kiss before returning.

Even with her flame she was thankful for the warmth of the palace. The hallways were cast in a soft orange glow, the curtains drawn to reduce the cold that seeped in through the windows. The halls were unusually empty, much like the streets of Orynth, but she supposed on a day like today guests would be huddled in their rooms or in the many drawing rooms that dotted the palace.

She shook off her damp cloak as she entered Lysandra’s rooms; hanging it by the fire in the hopes it would dry. The room was vastly different to her own, the colours more subdued, the windows smaller, hidden behind shorter cream curtains. Touches of Lysandra were thrown in here and there — a blanket that her mother had made when she was a baby was thrown across the end of the bed, a rug of dark red lay across almost the entire floor and the trinkets she had collected from various cities, lined along the mantel.

“Did it go okay?” Sat on the two chairs near the flames were Aedion and Lysandra. Her cousin was holding Lysandra’s hands in his own, his thumb rubbing soothing circles.

Aelin took a seat on the couch, tucking her feet beneath her. “Everything is good. He was happy to have you stay as long as you pleased.”

They both let out a sigh of relief at the news. “Thank you.” Aedion was helping Lysandra to her feet. “We’ll head there now. I’ll try to be back for supper.”

Aelin stood with them, her eyes going to Lysandra who’s face was pale, a thin sheen of sweat lining her forehead.

“Lys? Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Probably just morning sickness.” She turned to Aedion who had a bag in one and her cloak in the other. “Can you give us a moment?”

“I’ll be outside.”

Lysandra moved to the edge of the bed, placing herself down. Aelin wordlessly joined her, the two of them sitting and watching as the snow floated down outside.

“You don’t have to go Lys. We can figure it all out here… You won’t show for a while yet.”

Lysandra just shook her head. “It’s easier if I’m not here. I don’t want people talking, and I don’t want to have to deal with the looks of pity I’ll get.”

Aelin scoffed. “If anyone did that, they’d have me to contend with.”

Lysandra managed a small smile.

“Sam will take good care of you. He was happy for the company.”

“Thank you for going. I know how things were left…”

“It’s all good now Lys. We talked a little and I think we have accepted how things are.”

Lysandra fiddled with her sleeves, the silence stretching a little too long before she began to speak. “I know you must think I’m being difficult or crazy for not just marrying Aedion and that I’m making a fuss about not wanting people to find out,” she took a breath. “But I see the way people look at me. The way they whisper as I walk past. It doesn’t matter that I’m friends with you or if Aedion and I are together, they’ll still only look at me as the orphaned servant girl who got lucky.”

“Lys—“

“I could marry a king and they would still look at me like I am nothing. All I can think of is if it’s like this now, then what will they say when I start showing? When I have the baby? Not only that, but the Lords of Terrasen would never agree to let me marry Aedion anyway— so it’s never been about whether I want to or not. I know I am not good enough for him, and it’s easier if I just go somewhere else for a while and make this whole thing easier.”

“Do you think Aedion gives a shit what everyone else says? Do you think I give a shit what they say?” When Lysandra didn’t respond, Aelin continued. “You worry about what people will think, how Terrasen will be if you married him but I can promise you, it will survive. Do you think Orlon would’ve married Darrow if he knew that it would ruin Terrasen?”

“That’s different.”

“Maybe so. But you have to know that you have people on your side. If you change your mind about this all, we’ll do our best to support you.”

“Thank you.” Lysandra paused a moment. “You can tell Orlon. He has always been kind to me, and I trust that he’ll do what’s best for everyone.”

“Everything will work out, just wait and see.”

Aelin embraced Lysandra, lingering a few moments longer before exiting the room with her. Snuffing out the flames with her magic as they closed the door.

Aedion was waiting on a bench just down the hall and as they approached he wrapped the cloak around Lysandra. He turned to Aelin, nodding once in acknowledgment for what Aelin had done. That conversation would come later. But for now, Aelin watched as they walked away, eventually disappearing.

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sonnetthebard · 3 years

Note

This is kind of a crack idea, but I don't really care and I'm throwing it out anyway

Curt and Owen have to go undercover in a show for a mission(keeping an eye on one of the members of the cast maybe?). The show? Either Spies are Forever or a Hatchetfield show, take your pick -S

S anon... you have been waiting a while for this, and I apologize. With Headless, I needed a moment to recharge. So this is going to be a Modern! SAF fic. And as a treat, we're going original cast in an AU. That's right folks. Extra meta content. You asked for crack, you're gonna get crack. Please note: Most of the stories pertaining to the real people involved in this oneshot are made up based on what facts I know about them/ what I’m able to pick up on personalities. I don’t know any of these people personally, though. This is going to be such a ride, so buckle up.

Genre: Comedy/ Action/ Fluff

Words: 5639

TL;DR: Curt and Owen take the stage in order to monitor Chimera and one of their operatives. The thing is, they only have a vague clue as to who they're going after: he was one of the writers.

TW: Swearing, Guns, Fighting- But not much, this is mostly just gonna be a joke.

_________________________________________________

"Next we have... Curt Mega?" The longer-haired one read off, looking at Curt. "Cool name! We might have to use that- if, of course, that's okay with you."

"Oh... yeah, that's fine." Curt chuckled softly.

What, precisely, was Curt doing? Only the thing he'd vowed to Owen that he would never do (other than, of course, leave him): auditioning for a musical. Owen was a total theatre kid, and he'd done his share of musicals. Curt was always in the audience, but he'd jokingly told Owen that he would never be joining him up there. But... here he was. In an audition room. Curt never broke promises, not even joke ones. But these were... extenuating circumstances. In other words, this was for a mission and he had no doubt that Cynthia would actually kill him if he didn't follow through with his orders. Owen gave him a sly, triumphant smirk from across the room, where he was waiting for his audition. Curt got up, following the guy back further into the studio where they were holding auditions.

This mission was an odd one. It was monitoring a potential operative with Chimera Worldwide. Sure, they had the world by storm now- but A.S.S. was getting intel telling them that they might be breaching the privacy rights of people all over the world. In fact, Chimera may be a lot more criminal than they would seem to the naked eye. There was evidence coming to light of plots that could very well end in world domination. The worst part: apparently they were pretty plausible. One world government, puppeted by Chimera. That's why MI6 had sent Owen, and A.S.S. had sent Curt. They were their best agents, and a duo that had proven to work well together.

What did all of that have to do with a musical? To the average joe, nothing. Oh, Chimera had done well. They'd even declined to offer these guys a production grant so as to not seem shady. But... the A.S.S. had reason to believe that one of the writers and producers for the show that they were about to audition for was an operative for Chimera. Now, this play in and of itself may be an independent project. It may have nothing to do with Chimera. But... it was looking like the easiest way to monitor this operative, and so here Curt and Owen were. Owen was thrilled! He loved doing shows. He usually had to slot them into his schedule carefully, though. He couldn't do them during missions. So a mission where he was doing theatre was basically a dream come true for him.

Curt and Owen had chosen roles according to their experience with theatre. Curt had chosen to keep his name as his theatrical stage name, and Owen already did keep his name as a stage name. It was risky, but it also provided their names with a solid cover in the world outside of espionage. Owen had a legitimate resume built. That was why he was going for the lead, currently named 'JB' for 'James Bond' (subject to change). Curt, on the other hand, had stolen his resume from another actor named Curt Mega (who had fully agreed to that and signed an NDA and luckily enough happened to look like Curt). He had literally no acting experience, so he was going for a smaller role: The Informant and Ensemble. Both would likely have eyes on different parts of the production process and the cast. Hopefully they'd get a good idea of what was going on and who their target was. Maybe they'd even get to eliminate the threat! That was Curt's favourite part of missions.

"So, Curt... you did Glee?" The guy who had initially called him asked as they walked.

"Yep!" Curt lied.

"I recognize you! You were one of the Warblers- nice job on that solo in Uptown Girl, by the way." The man chuckled. Oh good. He was passable as the other Curt Mega. "I did Glee too. I was only there for, like, an episode though. But my buddy Darren... well, you probably know him."

"Yeah. He did a phenomenal job as Blaine." Curt smirked. Darren was also on an NDA. The government was being extremely careful.

"I'm Joey Richter. Me and my friends Brian and Corey wrote this show." The man introduced himself, extending his hand. Curt took it, giving him a firm shake. Joey smirked. "Damn... you've got a good shake."

"Thanks." Curt chuckled. He liked this guy. It was hard to imagine right now that he could be talking to an agent for one of the greatest evils known to man since... probably the Nazis. "I'm Curt... I mean, you know that, I just..."

"Yeah, I get it." Joey chuckled along with him. They walked into a room. Inside there were four other men. Two sat behind a table, Curt's supposed 'resume' and headshots laid out in front of them, a stack of papers on the side. Two other men shared a piano bench stationed by a keyboard. None of them were dressed particularly formally. Actually, they were all dressed pretty similarly to Curt. Short-sleeved patterned button-ups were about as formal as it got. So Curt and his black, white and gold striped short-sleeved button-up were in good company. "Hey, guys! This is Curt!"

"Hey! Welcome to the auditions for Spies are Forever!" One of the men behind the table smiled brightly. God, all of these men looked... so innocent. Curt couldn't see any of them being traitors to their country, much less mankind.

"Okay, so that's Brian. The guy beside him is Corey." Joey introduced. Corey waved. "The two guys at the piano bench are Clark and Pierce, our composers and band."

"Hey, Curt." Clark smirked.

"You brought your sixteen bars?" Pierce checked.

"Yep." Curt nodded, popping his 'p' and passing him the binder with his sheet music in it.

He'd brought Being Alive from Company, which Owen said was "such a cliche" and "a terrible choice for a comic show", but it was the song Curt felt most comfortable singing. So he was singing it anyways. Owen was very adamant that Curt had to be careful to actually be cast in the show, but Curt held that that song was his best chance. Curt had always thought he was an okay singer. He had his range that he shined in, and he used that. He never performed though. He wasn't that good. That's why he was going for a mostly non-singing role. He went over his cut with Clark, who was actually the one who would be playing for him. Then he cleared his throat, took a deep breath and gave it the old college try.

The odd thing, Curt thought, was that they seemed very into it. Either they were being very nice to him or they were genuinely enjoying the performance. Curt was a bit surprised by that. Owen was the performer among the two of them. Curt supposed it could just be the song. But then... something else unexpected happened. They asked Curt to do his cold read as 'JB'... and change the name to his own. 'Agent Curt Mega'. It was all getting a bit real for Curt. They liked him. And they liked his cold read. They were laughing during his cold read- and at all the right times! Curt was very confused. This wasn't where he was supposed to shine. He walked out of the audition room, and Owen was called in.

Owen really could not have come out sooner. Curt was anxious. What had he just done? He had given it his best because he thought that the best that could get him was ensemble. Was it going to get him more? Was he ready for more? He was past the point of no return, but... God, what had he just done? Owen came out of his audition, smug and content with himself. Apparently they'd asked him to read multiple sides. Curt hadn't the heart to tell him they'd asked him to read for the lead. A few days passed. Curt almost forgot that he'd even auditioned. That it had been so successful. Basking in the California sun could do that to you. But three days later, it all came back to him all too vividly.

"Curt, I got the email!" Owen announced from where he was lazing on the couch across from Curt in their hotel room. He sat up quickly, eager.

"What does it say?" Curt asked eagerly, sitting up with him. Owen scrolled down on his phone.

"Well... I'm in the show..." Owen furrowed his brows. "But... not in the role I thought. I got Deadliest Man Alive."

"Oh." Curt frowned. "I'm sorry. I know you really wanted the lead."

"It seemed like a juicy part." Owen hummed, still a bit dazed by the rejection. "I was looking forward to it."

"I know, babe." Curt sighed, getting up and wrapping his partner in a hug. "Maybe this one will be even juicier!"

"Maybe..." Owen nodded. "Thank you, love. For trying to make me feel better."

"Yeah, no problem!" Curt smiled softly.

"Did you get your email?" Owen asked.

"I... haven't checked." Curt admitted.

"Well go on, then! Sit! We'll check together!" Owen urged him. Curt sighed, sitting beside him and opening his email. Owen peered over his shoulder. The email from the Tin Can Bros was the first one that popped up right at the top. "Open it, Curt!"

"Okay..." Curt chuckled nervously, pressing the email to open it. He scrolled down, sighing in relief. "I got in, O."

"Congratulations!" Owen cheered, grinning. he was genuinely happy for Curt, and excited to be in the same show. "What role?"

"Let me scroll down..." Curt chuckled, before his heart stopped. Naturally, his laughter stopped with it, and his face fell.

"Love, what is it?" Owen furrowed his brows, concerned by the sudden mood shift. Immediately, his mind went to the worst-case scenario. "Curt, is there anything in there indicating that we might be compromised?"

"No..." Curt shook his head, staring at the role.

"Then... darling, what's wrong?" Owen blinked, before looking over his shoulder. His face fell to a state of shock almost equal to Curt's when he read the words, bolded on the screen: We would like to offer you the role of 'JB', renamed Agent Curt Mega. "Oh..."

_________________________________________________

Rehearsals for Spies Are Forever were potentially one of the best times Curt had ever had. Everyone loved him! Apparently, his voice was much better than he'd given himself credit for, as was his acting. Even Owen admitted it. It turned out Curt was perfect for the role. The songs fit right for him, the personality was spot on... the spy was even gay! It was as though it was written specifically for him to perform. Curt truly was having the time of his life. And Owen was loving the role of Deadliest Man Alive. It turned out it was a significantly juicier role than Curt's- funny, dark. And he even had a minor side comedic role to take on, Dick Big. So he could flex his chops in different area. There was a bit of a minor complication with the characters, though.

It turned out Curt's was not the only name that they'd liked. The Tin Can Bros had thought Owen's name was absolutely perfect... for Curt's partner turned villain. Romantic partner turned villain, to boot. They liked the ship name Curtwen. Ironically, both Owen and Joey were playing versions of Agent Owen Carvour- Owen playing him when he was in disguise as Deadliest Man Alive, Joey playing him out of disguise. Owen didn't make a fuss- he couldn't in the position he was in. But he didn't like being portrayed that way, or his name being used that way. The truth was, Owen had used to be morally grey. He'd had a phase where he'd almost betrayed his country and Curt. He'd very nearly done some terrible things. He wouldn't way who for, but Owen had implied it might have been Chimera. But he and Curt had worked through that, and he saw the error of his ways. It hurt seeing his name associated with villainy again. But for the sake of the mission, he literally could not complain.

As for the mission, they weren't really getting too far yet- and that wasn’t for lack of effort. As hard as finding a balance between rehearsal and espionage was, they’d managed to find a routine and stick to it. The work they were doing really should have been productive for them. They'd bugged all three writers and the two composers, but HQ (who was monitoring those so that the boys could focus on rehearsing so that they didn’t become too suspicious) was saying that they'd not gotten any suspicious activity from those except for Joey constantly being with an unidentified girl. But it seemed like that was his girlfriend and not another operative. So either this operative was smart and onto them or taking a hiatus from their work. Background checks were pretty clean. They were going purely off their interactions with these writers, which wasn’t really helping. All five of them were lovely. All five of them were also extremely smart. And all five of them had acting experience. Right now, though... Joey, Clark and Pierce weren't their main suspects. Joey was just too genuine to be bad, as were Pierce and Clark. Plus, if we're looking at technicalities (as Owen tended to), Clark and Pierce were composers, not writers. It was between Brian and Corey- unless something changed. Truly, it was anyone's game.

Owen and Curt were on break. It had been a hard day of rehearsal so far. Curt had just had to rehearse his pseudo-love-song with Mary Kate (who was lovely, but he was a bit jealous of- Owen had called her 'gorgeous' on multiple occasions now), and though it wasn't physically or musically demanding it was hard not to just start laughing. Especially with Curt, a gay man who had experienced this before. And Lauren played his meddling mother during the song, which only made it harder not to laugh. His own mother had no idea what he did or who he was seeing, and it was better that way. She just thought he was a single banker. He liked Lauren’s version of his mom better. She was way funnier. It had taken a bit of time just to get a run in where Curt wasn't giggling the entire time. The song was just so well written! He knew it was so unprofessional (and Owen had certainly reminded him of that) but he couldn't help it! And the Bros were laughing with him, so it was all good. He was glad to be on break, because his sides were killing him. He scrolled through his phone, checking for anything from HQ, before he felt a hand on his back.

"You know, Curt, I don't know if I've told you this lately but you're really, really great!" Joey told him.

"Thanks, man." Curt chuckled. "Thanks for the opportunity!"

"Thank you for coming out for our show!" Joey smirked. His voice dropped to a lower volume. “Listen... you and Owen are dating, right?”

"Yeah..." Curt furrowed his brows. He and Owen had chosen to be open about that. They were all pretty supportive of the LGBTQ+ community. The actor playing Susan and The Informant had even confessed to him that they thought they might be nonbinary- maybe even female leaning.

"Okay, so for the whole anniversary thing..." Joey fidgeted a bit nervously. "I mean... I've got an anniversary coming up, and, like, it's not my first, but... I think I’ve used every trick in the dating book at this point, and-"

"Wait, you're dating?" Curt blinked.

"Oh! Right, you're new!" Joey started to laugh. "Um... yeah! It's me and Lo."

"You and Lauren?" Curt smirked. He chuckled. "I knew it!"

"We're not public about the relationship yet, though, so... keep it quiet?" Joey pleaded.

"Oh yeah, you're safe." Curt assured him.

"So... any ideas?" Joey asked. “I really want this to be special for her.”

"Have you guys done the beach yet?" Curt offered. "Like, just a picnic- something you both love to eat- out on the beach."

"Yeah, did that two years ago." Joey sighed.

"Alright... how about a museum?" Curt offered. "It can be any museum that has something the two of you could bond over. But... I mean, Owen is super into experiencing art together."

"That we haven't done... not by ourselves on a date." Joey considered. "It doesn't even really have to be art, does it?"

"Nah, that's the beauty of museums! There are museums out there for everything." Curt smirked. “Maybe you two could go to a movie museum.”

"That’s probably more our speed.” Joey chuckled. “Thanks, man!”

"No problem.” Curt winked playfully. Then, he got an idea. He trusted Joey, so hopefully this worked. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

"I mean, I kinda owe you one." Joey chuckled. “Ask away!”

"Have you noticed anyone... acting a bit weird? Like... different from the way they usually do." Curt whispered.

"I... think I know who you mean." Joey nodded. "With Mary Kate... I think she honestly just misses Sean, you know? The rehearsals are a long time for her to be away from him. Those two are so close."

"Yeah... yeah, that must be hard on her." Curt hummed sympathetically. That... wasn't what he'd been going for.

"But I don't know what's going on with Brian." Joey confided in him. "I mean, it's not like he's been acting weird, per se, but... I mean, he always used to be down to just hang after work. But recently, he's been too busy to do that? I honestly thought it was just me who was picking up on that, but like... you're noticing it too?"

"Yeah. Yeah I am." Curt lied, all the sympathy he could muster in his tone. Bingo. He'd just gotten some really, really good intel there. If there was anyone who would be able to know when one of the writers was acting shady, it was Joey. They were his best friends. And Curt tended to agree with Joey anyways. Corey just didn’t give off villain vibes. Neither did Brian, but out of the two of them, Brian gave off more. “Glad it’s not just me.”

"What's he saying about me?" Brian rolled his eyes playfully, approaching his bag from behind them to grab something. Shit. He must have heard his name.

"Uh..." Joey blushed.

"Oh, he was just telling me about how you two met." Curt lied. Joey gave him a questioning look. But Curt remembered him mentioning it in another one of his longwinded vents. "U of Michigan, Freshmen year. You two got into a lot of trouble."

"He's not telling you any of the bad stuff, is he?" Brian teased.

"Nah, man- I respect the bro code!" Joey scoffed playfully. Curt gave Joey a wink, and Joey gave him a grateful look in return. The wink hadn't gone unnoticed by Brian though.

"Oh god, he is telling you the bad stuff, isn't he?" Brian groaned playfully. "Listen, if Lauren asks, none of it was us."

"Oh don't worry... I'm great with secrets." Curt chuckled. He kinda wanted context now. Knowing those two, it was nothing serious- Joey had a heart of gold. He wouldn't be involved in anything bad. Especially not with his soon-to-be-girlfriend. So probably pranks, or other such shenanigans.

"Guys... I already knew it was you." Lauren rolled her eyes. None of them had noticed her by her own rehearsal bag picking up her water bottle. "It was so obvious... I may have believed you when you blamed Holden like... once? Twice? But you literally signed off half of the time."

"We did?" Joey blinked, looking at Brian.

"Okay, look, some of the time... I was pretty proud of our work." Brian defended himself.

"Dude!" Joey started to snicker. "And here I was keeping secrets from my girlfriend for you!"

"Sorry, Joey." Brian winced.

“Eh, I guess I have to forgive you.” Joey rolled his eyes, chuckling. “You’re my best friend.”

“Hey, what’s that?” Lauren asked, noticing a pink piece of paper sticking out of Curt’s rehearsal bag. Curt blushed profusely. That was the letter Owen had written to pick him up. he took it everywhere with him in case he panicked so that he could read it, remember those days and calm down. It helped. He’d meant to keep it hidden.

“Oh... it’s nothing.” Curt lied.

“It’s not nothing, is it?” Lauren smirked. She gave him a genuine look. “Is it personal?”

“Oh, it’s nothing too bad.” Owen chuckled. Curt blushed further, feeling Owen wrap his arms around his waist. When had he gotten there?”

“What’s going on over here?” Corey asked, joining them. It seemed they had formed a rather large clump.

“I think Lauren might be about to read the first letter I ever wrote to Curtis.” Owen smirked triumphantly, clearly not embarrassed by that prospect.

“Ooooo romantic!” Tessa teased Curt. When had she shown up? God, for a spy, Curt was not very observant. He took a brief look at his surroundings. Ah. Everyone was there. Fantastic.

“Oh hell yeah I am!” Lauren smirked. She plucked the paper out of Curt’s bag.

“Oh god...” Curt groaned.

“You okay with this?” Corey checked with Curt. Curt nodded reluctantly.

“I mean, as long as O is.” Curt sighed, relenting.

With that, Lauren used the rest of their break to overdramatically read out Owen’s letter. Curt was a blushing mess, and Owen was grinning like an idiot. Evidently he was proud of himself- as he should have been. It was a good letter. At least Curt and Owen now had an idea of who to look into: Brian Rosenthal. It was a bit odd to think that Brosenthal might be a Chimera operative. He was a funny, quirky... he didn’t seem ruthless enough. Maybe they were wrong. But this was literally all the intel they could get at the moment. Mind you, they needed concrete evidence before they could actually do anything, but... at least they had a lead. Even if it was a weird one. The thing about espionage was that leads were usually weird. So they... well, they managed to bug all of the writers’ houses a bit more to give HQ more to work with, but especially Brian’s. That way the minute they had solid evidence, they could act. Well... not the minute. More like within about twenty minutes. But same difference. There was nothing else they could do.

________________________________________________

Nothing happened through the rest of the rehearsal process. Literally nothing. No one did anything suspicious. Honestly, Curt and Owen were starting to think that their superiors were wrong. They were performing their shows- with excellent reception, might they add. People were loving Curt. The real Curt Mega was getting huge acclaim on Curt’s behalf. And the fans... well they were going mad. It was looking like the show would be a huge success- which meant two things. One, Curt was going to have to do more theatre. Cleary he was good at it. Two, his life as a spy was about to get more... complicated. IT turned out these guys had a bit of a cult following because they had been involved with a theatre group called Team Starkid? Curt knew about them from his mission briefing, but honestly he’d never thought that they were that big of a deal. When he’d confessed that to Owen he’d gotten a long lecture. Apparently Owen was also a fan, and that was half of why he was so excited to be doing this show. But that was a topic for another time.

It was about the third show in when they finally got the evidence they had been looking for. It... was not when they’d planned to find anything. Actually, it was at the least convenient time. Between acts. It was also in the least expected way. Curt had to get his props for the top of Act Two. Owen decided to go with him, mostly to make sure he wasn’t a total and utter child. Honestly, they just meant to get their props before places. They were the only ones in that area backstage- the stagehands were resetting the stage and helping with costume changes/ tech issues. Well, they thought they were the only ones backstage. They should have been. But it turns out that someone else had anticipated the lack of people, and was using that to his advantage. At first, all Curt and Owen could hear were murmurs- not distinguishable in the slightest. Bey both gave each other a look before pulling out their real guns (which they hid on their costumes just in case) and following the sound. And that was when they saw him. The culprit behind all of this: Bri- Corey Lubowich? They lowered their guns a bit, staying dead quiet. That wasn’t what they’d been expecting. {erhaps this was a false alarm.

“I am in the middle of a- no, I get that my work with you is important! Believe me, I know!” Corey hissed. “I just... tonight is one of my shows! I’m going on as the Prince! I- well can it wait half an hour? I mean I’d prefer two hours, but if I have to whip out my laptop backstage, I- well I’m kinda insisting on- come on, you guys know my theatre is important to me!”

“Okay... so we were wrong...” Owen whispered.

“We don’t know that...” Curt reasoned. “It could be his family.”

“Of course I’m loyal! When have I not done what you said? I have sacrificed so much for you!” Corey fumed quietly. “Chimera is my life now! Not theatre, not my family or friends. Chimera! Do you know how fucking weird that is for someone my age?! I’m too young for all this corporate shit! No! No, of course that’s not what I’m saying just- can I have my night? Come on, this is really important.”

“Okay, I take that back.” Curt blinked, stunned. He was just a bit too loud. Corey’s head snapped in their direction, and both men raised their guns. Corey’s eyes fumbled, and he pulled out a gun of his own, haphazardly aiming it at them.

“Okay... shit, guys, I’m going to have to call you back... we’ve got a situation.” Corey muttered. His face fell and he rolled his eyes, unimpressed. “No, not a theatre situation. An us situation. I’ll fill you in- look, they have guns. Just- I really don’t have the time for this anymore- NOT MY JOB WITH YOU! This conversation! Jesus, I’ve got two guns pointed at me! Let me go! Okay, fine! Bye!”

“You...” Curt spat, glaring at Corey.

“You guys finally figured it out...” Corey sighed, raising his gun fully at them.

“You know who we are?” Curt blinked.

“How?” Owen asked him coldly.

“Chimera has eyes and ears everywhere.” Corey rolled his eyes. “Just like in the show. I knew you were coming, and I knew you were looking for me. I just didn’t think you’d actually find me.”

“Are you insulting our intelligence?” Owen scoffed.

“No. I just thought I set up Brian pretty well.” Corey admitted. “It was pretty easy, too... all I had to do was point out to Joey that Brian wasn’t coming to as many of our hangouts as he used to. You trusted Joey. Joey relayed that to you. Threw you completely off my scent.”

“Yeah, aren’t you just the friend of the year.” Curt rolled his eyes. “You threw your bro under the bus.”

“You’re lucky we didn’t get a false tip-off and eliminate him.” Owen hummed in agreement. “You’ve no clue the kinds of things that could set our superiors off.”

“Well... It’s Brian. The chances of him doing anything sketchy are slim to none.” Corey reasoned.

“Corey, I’m going to need you to put that gun down and put your hands behind your head.” Curt sighed.

“Alright, guys, places!” Joey called out to them. Everyone was backstage- except, oddly, Lauren (who was usually pretty punctual on cues). Shit. Their timing was awful. “You can play with the... are those our prop guns?”

“No... those are too modern.” Brian furrowed his brows, approaching them to get a closer look. He blinked before stumbling back. “Holy shit, guys... are those real guns?”

“Yes, they are... and you’re going to need to stay back.” Curt told them levelly. “Lubowich, gun down, hands behind your head.”

“We outgun and outman you.” Owen reminded him. The fact that Corey was so reluctant was astounding. “And we have a license to kill if you don’t cooperate.”

“Okay, guys, what the fuck?!” Joey exclaimed.

“Can we just... put the guns down and talk this out?” Tessa pleaded.

“No... we can’t.” Curt shook his head. “My name is Agent Curt Mega, American Secret Service. My partner is Owen Carvour, MI6.”

“Our credentials...” Owen muttered, pulling them out with one hand and holding them out to Brian, who was closest. He hesitantly took them. Corey shot Owen while he wasn’t in peak position to shoot him. Curt shot Corey back with no hesitation. Neither shot was fatal, Corey’s hitting Owen in the arm and Curt’s hitting Corey in the shoulder. The impact was enough to make both men stumble back. Owen stayed on his feet, but Corey fell. Curt kept his gun trained on Corey.

“Holy shit, they’re not lying...” Brian mumbled.

“Okay, Corey... what the actual fuck, man?!” Joey fumed, definitely feeling a bit betrayed.

“Corey... why are you fighting the secret service?” Mary Kate asked coolly, trying to be the level-headed one.

“He works for Chimera.” Curt told them, knowing they might not get a clear response from Corey for a bit.

“The assholes who wouldn’t fund us?” Brian groaned. Corey grunted in admittance. “Come on, man! This just keeps getting worse and worse!”

“Okay, guys, I’m here. Sorry I took so-” Lauren started, rushing out. She saw the scene playing out and blinked. “Holy fuck! What’s going on?!”

“They’re actual fucking spies, Lo.” Joey hissed. “All three of them.”

“Pretty sure Curt and Owen are the good guys.” Brian added in a whisper.

“Oh yeah, Curt and Owen are definitely the good guys.” Tessa gulped.

“Corey is an agent for Chimera.” Curt explained.

“Please tell me this is an elaborate prank.” Lauren chuckled nervously.

“No, Lo... this time it’s real.” Joey sighed.

“Okay, but... Chimera’s just a huge global corporation, right?” Mary Kate reasoned.

“Not really.” Corey croaked out.

“They’re plotting world domination.” Owen grunted.

“Corey...” Joey breathed.

“World domination makes it sound bad.” Corey grimaced. “We more just want control over every world government... and then maybe to take all of them out and form one Chimera government.”

“That doesn’t make it sound any better.” Tessa winced.

“Why?” Brian asked Corey, hurt. “Why are you doing this?”

“Honestly, I just needed a bit of extra money in college.” Corey muttered, trying and failing to find his footing. Clearly he wasn’t a field agent too often.

“So you turned to espionage?!” Lauren scoffed incredulously.

“Honestly I started as a delivery boy and then I found out some shit I should never have known...” Corey sighed. “It escalated really quickly.”

“God, this is a mess.” Joey groaned.

“Curt, love, can you give our superiors a ring?” Owen prompted him. “I’ll deal with our former friend here.”

“On it.” Curt nodded, pulling out his phone.

“So... do we stop the show?” Brian asked Owen as he pulled out a zip-tie- another essential item Owen always kept on him, even in costumes.

“Oh no... the A.S.S. is the epitome of discretion. Believe me, you’ll have no clue what’s going on. Just see if you can find a friend in the audience to go on for The Prince.” Owen told them, tying up Corey and forcing him onto his feet. “Owen will take him outside and... he should honestly be ready to go on after We Love The Prince.”

“Holy shit... okay...” Lauren sighed.

“I’ll make an announcement that we’re having technical difficulties...” Joey planned. “Let’s, um... just take a moment to breathe and get back into the right headspace.”

“We’ll be back in a moment.” Curt told them as he and Owen took Corey outside.

“Rot in hell, you asshole!” Brian called after him, sniffing. Was he... crying? You know what, it was completely fair. That was one hell of a betrayal.

So Curt and Owen passed Corey onto their superiors, and Spies Are Forever was able to go on. They got Nick Lang to play The Prince, which only made the fans more excited. Curt and Owen were allowed the opportunity to finish their run with the show- which Curt was so, so grateful for. He loved theatre. he never thought he would, but he loved it. And Owen loved that he loved it. Spies are Forever was the first of many shows for Curt. He got into the habit, like Owen, of doing shows between missions. In fact, he actually got to make Owen a little jealous later on- he got into a Starkid show. Mind you, they knew who he was. Fully this time. They even supported him- helped him build a public backstory. The real Curt Mega’s wife even played wife to him publicly when she needed to. It was a new start in Curt’s life and one that he hadn’t even known he needed. Finally, everything seemed like it was okay.

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angelictrl · 3 years

Text

SDR2 SELF INSERT - CHAPTER 1.

i swear i'll finish requests and matchups after i get rid of this brainrot swarming the back of my mind ... hope you guys enjoy reading this and anticipate my other chapters. please let me know if this was good ! <3 i'm nervous ...

psa ;; lowercase + spaces intended ,, second person pov. this isn't completely accurate because i'm currently on chapter three and this story is going to be nagito x reader centered - but you won't have to really worry about that in this chapter !

how did it end up like this ... ? one minute you were a freshman entering hope's peak academy, excited to finally go to the school of your dreams and harness the potential of your talent, but the next minute you wake up on an island with a talking stuffed bunny, sixteen strangers, and no recollection of how you got there to begin with.

not only that, but there was a bear now, too ? it claimed to be the headmaster of this school field trip and now ... oh, yeah ... killings were to take place ... wait - huh ? killings - what the hell ... ?!

"hold on, you guys ! i think they're coming back to us !" you heard a rough yet feminine voice that could've only belonged to the ultimate gymnast, followed by that of the ultimate musician's.

"yoo-hoo ! y/n, are you in there ? earth to y/n, earth to y/n !" the girl with multicolored hair practically shouted, frantically waving her hands in front of your face before gasping in shock and dramatically falling backwards so that the ultimate nurse, the one you recalled to have choppy purple hair and several bandages, could catch her. the poor uncoordinated girl did so with a surprised squeak, nearly falling backwards herself. "oh no ! are you guys sure that aliens haven't taken over their brain ?!"

"jeez, you guys are seriously so insensitive ... ! i sincerely doubt that that happened, ibuki, just give them some time to process all of this," a certain redhead butted in to scold the other, fidgeting with the camera in her hands afterwards.

"h-huh ? aliens ? what are you talking about ?" you shook your head in disbelief as you zoned back in and spoke, realizing you had spaced out trying to rid yourself of the denial you were going through at the moment.

so this was really reality, huh ?

it took you a day and a short amount of rest you were supposed to call 'sleep' to finally face the gravity of the situation you were in.

"nevermind those statements. we were all just talking about having a party at the old building tonight. i expect to see you all there," byakuya butt in, glancing down at your sitting figure with his arms crossed while you still had your elbow propped up on a table and chin in one hand.

"ah, alright, i see ... but isn't it pretty dusty in there ? and i thought it was also still under construction ..." you asked the blonde in front of you, watching the ultimate affluent progeny shake his head with a disappointed sigh escaping him.

"do you even listen or care about your surroundings ? that's why we're holding a drawing to see who's going to get cleaning duty. you're the last one to draw, so hurry up and quit acting like an incompetent fool already," byakuya demanded, watching you tousle your own hair as you stood up with an annoyed huff at his bossy tone, going over to the guy with the cloud-like, wispy hair and pulling a chopstick from his hands.

no red mark.

well, guess it seems that you're not on cleaning duty. but it seems like the lean, tall guy in the green jacket that had been holding the drawing in the first place had been the one to get it instead. how unlucky.

"is that - is that really fair ... ? i feel bad that you have to clean most of the building all by yourself, nagito. i really don't mind helping out, y'know," you offered, already feeling guilty of leaving the sickly looking male alone to clean the place.

a shimmer of what seemed like hope sparked in his greyish-green eyes but that disappeared just as quickly as it came, making you squint and furrow your brows in confusion with pursed lips as the said man gave you a sheepish smile.

"ah - don't worry about me, i'll be fine ! besides, if it's cleaning, that's one thing that i'm pretty good at," he reassured you, waving his hands before him with a bashful look on his face. he looked, dare you say, flustered at your suggestion.

"are you sure ? i mean, i could just pop in my headphones and it'd be completely fine with m-"

"i'm fine ! really - i insist ... thank you, though," nagito cut you off unintentionally yet abruptly, making you raise an eyebrow but finish talking about the subject. the only thing you murmured in response was a small 'alright, if you say so ...' before going back to finishing up your breakfast. what a funky little dude.

on the other hand, teruteru may be out of line and a bit pervy sometimes, but his food wasn't something he was just gloating about for no reason whatsoever. he really did make good dishes no matter the occasion.

10:00pm. that's what monokuma had said on the announcements. "get a good night's sleep my ass ... i've got a party to get to," you said aloud to no one in particular, standing up from your bed to stretch before beginning to leave your cottage and heading over to the old building. you weren't scared of defying byakuya's orders, but the surveillance cameras set up in your room more than kind of freaked you out. at least at the party, you'd be having somewhat more fun while being watched instead of being paranoid of glancing back at whoever's behind the cameras while you tried to enjoy your short lived solitude.

hajime was just a little bit ahead of you getting pat down by byakuya, making you purse your lips in a thin line as you waited your turn. oh well, at least byakuya was being strictly professional about the pat down. but you couldn't ignore the fact that he seemed even more stressed than usual. something was definitely off.

it didn't take long for you to follow after the brunette, however, curiosity got the best of you as you wanted to search the building. i mean, hey, better safe than sorry, right ? it's best to keep track of your surroundings - you learned that from earlier. plus, what the hell was there to even renovate in here ? monomi should've already had everything set up before you guys had arrived, right ?

it didn't take long before you explored the office and greeted peko passing by you with one of byakuya's cases and a plate of food, soon visiting teruteru in the kitchen and quickly leaving due to his talk about his posioned loins (which, for the record, you even stated bluntly "dude, nobody asked ..." yet he still kept going).

yeah, so, let's avoid the kitchen for now. the last room was ... a storage room ? i mean, it couldn't hurt to check out, right ?

the first thing that caught your attention were the three irons sitting on an ironing board. why were there three ? what are irons even doing in here, anyways ? and - wait, are they turned on ?

as soon as you had begin going over to check if they were really plugged in like you had suspected, byakuya had stormed over and found you, grabbing your shoulder.

"what the hell are you doing ? get going to the dining room, everyone's waiting on you," the taller man stated, making you open and close your mouth like a fish out of water as you tried to defend yourself, but to no use. maybe some things were just better left untouched ?

you followed byakuya into the dining room like a kicked puppy, going over to stand next to sonia and kazuichi who seemed to be pretty happy and lively. hopefully, their joyous moods would rub off on you and you wouldn't end up being a killjoy.

as you glanced at all the party dishes teruteru put together in awe, mahiru began taking pictures, the click startling you a bit before you averted your gaze and smiled at her. the freckled redhead smiled back before taking another picture, you making a funny face at the camera in hopes to get her to laugh before another click was heard. neither of you had time to talk or giggle as instead this click was connected to the air conditioning system.

and now it was pitch black.

"uwah ! it's a b-blackout !" mahiru cried out in fear, a few others' voices ringing across the room as panic began to settle into the atmosphere. oh god, what the hell was going on ? you stumbled back from your spot instinctively, feeling yourself get shoved by someone before toppling over onto the floor. a hiss of pain left you after a sharp gasp as you planted face first into the wooden floorboards, trying to regain your footing or at least get up from laying on the floor helplessly. that's the last thing you need nor want anyone to see.

"g-guys, let's just try to keep our cool, yeah ? panicking wont help our s-situation ..." you managed to get out as you got yourself to your knees albeit wobbly and clumsily, finding a table leg to help lean against as you waited for the power to turn back on. could those irons you found earlier be related to the power outage ?

soon enough, the lights turned back on as if to rip you away from your thoughts, making you blink fiercely as your vision tried to adjust to the sudden illumination in the room. everyone stared in your direction and you blinked in confusion right back at them, soon enough realizing you were clinging onto a table leg desperately and probably had blood on your face from colliding so hard with the floor. you quickly let go, stumbling a bit as you tried to stand up and cover your face with a hand, but doing so stiffly as you coughed awkwardly. you felt a bit pathetic for looking so helpless in this situation. but it turns out that everyone wasn't staring at you, they were staring behind you - at mikan ... and her ... quite compromising position.

"w-what the hell ?! mikan, how did you even - ?"

"i-i'm sorry, i tripped again ! ohh ... please forgive me !"

"i- wh- nevermind, it's not like you can control how you fall - i-i think ... w-whatever ! just let me help you up already ... !" you grumbled out as you began moving the food off of her, the others trying to remain courteous and instead searching for byakuya. oh, yeah, where did that rich guy go ? you swore you felt someone shove you and the floorboards rumble from his direction towards yours ... had he ran past you to search for a way to turn the lights on ? but there's no way anyone could even see where anything was in that darkness, so that could've been anyone ...

gah, this whole party was a disaster. maybe you really should have taken that chance to have a staring contest with whoever was behind the surveillance camera screens.

it wasn't long before everyone gathered together again while mikan offered to treat your minimal wounds with the supplies she had on her at the moment, the others having no luck of finding byakuya. alright, now things were starting to get freaky ...

things really began to take a turn for the worse though when akane spoke up about smelling blood. now that atmosphere of tension and panic from earlier was back.

you watched as hajime hesitantly stalked towards the table in the far right with a lamp on top of it, sweat beading down his forehead. you couldn't blame him. this whole situation was pretty damn nerve wracking for everyone, including yourself, involved. in fact, it would probably ease him if you also came over to let him know he wasn't alone - maybe. or you would just scare him, but it was better than nothing.

you made your way over to him after thanking mikan for sterilizing and bandaging up one of your cheeks and nose after scraping your face pretty hard against a loose nail in that floorboard. what terrible luck. either that, or you were just as much of a klutz as mikan was. maybe both.

anyhow, you could barely feel the pain with adrenaline coursing through you at the moment as you two peered from under the table, the sight underneath it making you shriek and cover your mouth. you couldn't tear your eyes away from your "leader's" lifeless body.

byakuya was now dead. only sixteen students remained.

danganronpa masterlist.

55 notes · View notes

blush-and-books · 3 years

Note

Canonverse, pining but established relationship, and in the studioooooo

(Now let me rant a little bit about how much I love you. You’re so freaking talented and I wake up everyday and get to be your friend???? How is THAT allowed???? You’re so deserving of this and I would do anything for you. Literally anything. Anyways, I love you so much and idk what I would do without you. My life is better because you’re in it and that’s a fact. CONGRATS!!!!!)

-your brainmate💕

@willexx -- I love you more than anything. Thank you for sending this in. Enjoy babe!!!!

At one point -- Luke doesn’t know when exactly it happened -- he stopped thinking of the couch in the studio as his.

It was his couch since he ran away from home and slept on it for six months, it was his couch when Sunset Curve’s entire EP was written on that couch, it was his couch when Bobby gladly told him that he could take it when the band made enough money for the runaway to buy his own place.

And then one day, he poofed into the garage after a day at the beach and Julie was on that same couch, curled up with her hair tied back and an oversized sweatshirt swallowing her body, and the couch wasn’t just his anymore.

It was where Luke and Julie wrote music.

It was where Luke tried, and barely made it through, teaching her guitar.

It was where Julie gave him a song that she wrote, for them.

The couch wasn’t his. It was theirs.

This was monumental news to him, but he knew it probably wouldn’t be to anyone else. He didn’t wax poetic about it to the boys or proclaim it to Julie in any special way, because it was just a couch.

One stupid, tattered piece of furniture that was a tiny symbol of their relationship compared to things like the microphone where she permanently inked a cupcake just for him.

He didn’t even think she thought of it as his couch anymore anyways -- he said it once, within the first minute they had a full conversation, even though it had been hers for the last sixteen years of her life. There was no way that one moment had stayed with her.

Until it did.

“Okay, okay, no, you have to bring the couch!” Luke insisted as Julie giggled against his chest. They were laying on the couch in question with Julie between his legs and cuddled into his front as his arms were wrapped around her like she needed to be closer. Their debate was about what Julie’s apartment would look like when she was older -- similar to the one Luke had with Bobby 25 years ago.

Julie’s laughing slowed as she perched her chin against his sternum to look up at him clearly. “You’re just saying that because it’s ‘your’ couch. You’re so possessive over this thing.”

And just like that, Luke was confused and shocked rolled into one brain that can barely handle one of those emotions, let alone both.

“Because it’s ‘mine?’”

“Well, yeah?” His girlfriend is suddenly slipping from his grasp to sit up and stare down at him with the brown eyes that could keep him glued to his seat. “That’s what you said, wasn’t it?”

Luke follows in sitting up, trying to shift back closer to Julie because even when she’s out of reach for a minute, it’s too long. “Well yeah, but- Jules, that was a long time ago.”

He pulls her hands into his lap and plays with her fingers as if they are the strings of his guitar.

“So?”

“So, it’s not my couch anymore.”

“What do you-”

“It stopped being mine a while ago. It’s ours. And yes, I am possessive over it, and that’s why.”

The soft hands in his tighten at his words. “‘Ours?’”

Lost Julie is not a very common Julie to spot. But here she is, in front of him, acting as if the news that everything in Luke’s afterlife ties back to her is novel information. When she’s like this, her lips form a barely visible pout and a little crease forms on her forehead. Even though Luke hates that Julie doesn’t understand that she is truly the center of his universe, just like the sun, Julie is precious when she is like this.

So, like any guy would do when his girlfriend is being adorable, he pulls her back down on top of him so that they are resuming their position from earlier. “Of course, ‘ours.’ This is where we write all of our songs, where you told me about Perfect Harmony, where-”

“Where you kissed me,” Julie finishes for him. Luke’s right hand, which rests on her waist, squeezes.

“Exactly.”

Luke falls into the dizzying memory of a late night writing with her, when they were trying to nail a line for the chorus, and he asked her to close her eyes so that he could “try something.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do.”

He doesn’t even notice that Julie has fallen quiet -- probably, hopefully, recalling the same memory -- until he runs through the whole moment in his head and returns himself back to reality to cuddle Julie closer to him, and lean down to peck the top of her head. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Her response is instantaneous, but her voice is distant. She’s clearly still vividly thinking about whatever it is that’s made her space out.

“Where I’m going to put the couch when I get an apartment.”

The answer makes Luke so ridiculously happy that he stays quiet for the next ten minutes, because he wouldn’t dare interrupt Julie planning a future that involves him. After that ten minutes, he realizes she’s fallen asleep -- hopefully her dreams involve him, too.

#jatp #jatp fanfic #juke #juke fanfic

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years

Text

Day 21: Prinxiety (pt 2)

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 21: Combine two soulmate prompts. (This will make sense soon, I promise.)

It’s the sequel you’ve all been waiting for! This is the second part to day 16 (read that first!!!!!), and y’all finally get to see what happened to Virgil! Please heed the trigger warnings below.

TRIGGER/content WARNINGS!! Anxiety, food mention, crappy foster system/group homes, implied past abuse, religious guilt/negative view of religion, homophobia, conversion therapy/abuse, starvation, sneaking medication (antipsychotics/side effects), electrocution, seizure, ambulance. I’m sorry.

Word count: 3.8k

Unlike most kids in the foster system, Virgil didn’t know his birthday. He knew it was sometime in December, but that didn’t do much. Technically, birthdays weren’t really a huge thing anyways, not when the group home he rarely left was awfully underfunded, and a party came second to little things like working sinks and clothes without holes. Even still, all the other kids at least got a little cupcake and a half hearted birthday song on their special day, and his festivities were pushed onto Christmas. He didn’t get a weak excuse for a celebration, because the other kids ‘found it unfair’ that he got that and Christmas in the same month. To prevent an upheaval, the workers told him that he’d just have to be happy with what he got.

But it wasn’t fair, because some kids got Easter and a birthday, or Halloween and a birthday, or New Years and a birthday, and poor Virgil didn’t. The fact of the matter was, they plain didn’t like him. The other kids didn’t like that he got extra free time because of his anxiety, or was allowed to leave the table when they weren’t, and they especially didn’t like he was the youngest of the bunch. The youngest had the highest chance of getting adopted, it was just facts, so they had seemingly decided that if his stay here would be the shortest, it would be the most tortured.

It wasn’t the shortest stay, though. With his barrage of anxiety related issues and group-home-toughened demeanor, no foster home wanted to deal with him. He was snarky, ran away, regularly got in fights with the biological children of the parents, and was promptly labeled a problem child. Eventually, it was deemed easier for him to just stay in a group home until he outgrew the system, since he seemed set to escape every other place. Virgil tried to pretend it didn’t hurt as much as it did; it was his fault, after all. As he watched all his older tormentors grow out of a crooked system, he resigned himself to the same fate. After all, he was almost sixteen now, and he knew his chances were out. So he stayed stuck in his group home, lashing out at his caretakers and therapists, refusing to eat unless it was alone in his room (technically, three kids slept in there, but he so rarely left it, and they wanted to avoid him, it was unofficially deemed his room), and listening to music on his phone.

He’d been given the phone on his fifteenth birthday, a gift from one of his caretakers. It was the cheapest piece of crap he’d ever seen, glitched out every other minute and needed to be charged at least three times a day, but it was a phone nonetheless. Granted, he had no one to text. But he had access to a computer, a totally one hundred percent legal music downloading website, and a strong sense of determination, so he’d soon filled the phone’s entire measly storage with all the music he could cram on the thing.

That’s what he was doing on the night of December 18th, listening to his “Emo Playlist” on a pair of $4 Dollar Store earbuds, laying on his bed and finding shapes in his popcorn ceiling as the moon shone through the window. In the bunk beds across the room from him, his two other roommates were fast asleep, but he couldn’t follow suit. It was sadly normal for Virgil to have sleepless nights where no matter what, his anxious brain just wouldn’t shut off, and it just felt like one of those nights. His hands shook and his eyelids flinched every few seconds for no reason, so he turned the music just a little bit louder and tried to calm his breathing.

It was just past 1 am when his life changed forever.

He was on the fourth cycle of his playlist, eyes no more heavy than hours before and just as flinchy. It was just entering the “existential crisis” time of the night where he started questioning reality, and he was about to give in and start letting his mind drift to darker places, when a song distinctly not his began to play in the midst of a song switch.

How can you miss someone you’ve never met?

Because I need you now but I don’t know you yet,

But can you find me soon, because I’m in my head,

Yeah, I need you now but I don’t know you yet.

He froze, eyes suddenly wide open, and yanked the earbuds out of his ears. The song continued; not in his headphones, but in his head. It didn’t take an idiot to realize that it was his soulmate, responding, and as an afterthought, Virgil suddenly identified that today was probably his birthday. Both amazing revelations, but one was slightly more time sensitive.

Desperately scrolling through his playlists as the song stopped after the chorus, he tried to find a song that would be an adequate introduction to this new person. When his eyes landed on a song from his Adele phase (he didn’t talk about that time) that he hadn’t had the energy to delete yet, he simultaneously groaned and grinned. Subtly meme-y, heartfelt like the song his soulmate had played, a decent greeting. He tapped play.

Hello,

It’s me.

He hoped his soulmate had the same sense of humor of him and had actually given a laugh, since he was trying to stifle laughter behind his sleeve to avoid waking the sleeping kids. He paused after the first verse, since he didn’t really want to remember that phase of his life more than he had to, and waited for the other to play the next song. Hopefully they could work out some sort of rhythm, play songs back and forth. He for sure wouldn’t be able to sleep now.

(The next song his soulmate played was an almost atrocious obviously-musical-theatre song that almost made Virgil hit his head against the wall, so he retaliated with a favorite of his, the most ear assaulting screamo he could find on his playlist.)

The clock had just passed four in the morning when there was a small pause in the routine, before his soulmate played a children’s lullaby. It definitely wasn’t something you’d listen to in everyday life, so Virgil could only assume it was the other’s way of indicating that they had to sleep. As if I’m going to let you go that easily, Virgil smirked, opening YouTube and begging that the video he’d chosen would play without an ad.

It did, filling his crackling, cheap earbuds with the opening chorus of Baby Shark. Fight fire with fire, he decided, chuckling to himself as he turned off the song just before the ‘mommy shark’ verse. Silence filled his head and he mentally wished the other a good night, turning onto his stomach and screaming into his pillow, grinning madly.

Eight months later, their new way of life was deeply imbedded into him; getting woken up at asscrack o’clock in the morning by a worker who wanted to be there as much as he did, and either playing his morning playlist to get himself slightly more ready to face another monotonous day or waiting in silence until his soulmate woke up and played their own music. He’d begrudgingly started to even enjoy the showtunes. Everyone around the home had noticed his gradual shift in attitude, and he couldn’t help the natural smiles that pulled at his cheeks when a new song played out of nowhere. It got to the point where his therapist noticed his lifted mood, and the other kids stopped avoiding him and, unknown to Virgil, his social workers decided that he was ready to try another foster home.

That’s why, eight months later, there was a knock on his bedroom door and his main worker poked in her head, asking him to come downstairs. He’d been playing music for his soulmate, so he silently apologized and joined her at the dining room table, giving her a half hearted smile.

“Virgil, we’ve found a new home for you. A foster home that specializes in… harder to place cases. They’ve opened their doors to you, and we’re hoping to get you into a trial period there within the next week.”

At first, Virgil vehemently refused. No. He didn’t want to go back to foster homes, not after… everything he went to in the first few. The ones that hurt him, the ones that were more densely crowded than group homes, the ones that turned him into the angry shell he was before he had met a sign of a possibly happy future. He didn’t want to lose the progress he’d made.

But Bev looked so hopeful, so pleadingly at him, that he gave in after three days of denying. He said goodbye to the kids he’d unfortunately grown attached to, threw his few belongings into a black garbage bag, and got into his worker’s car for the first time in years. Just rebuckling that seatbelt caused a shudder to run up his spine.

------1 month later------

“Virgil, what are you doing? Do you have earbuds in? We’ve made it abundantly clear that you are not to have technology at the table.”

Virgil fought every urge in his body to roll his eyes, flicking his hair behind his ears to show they were empty. It had gotten long and shaggy, just reaching his jaw in the back. “No earbuds. My soulmate’s listening to music, and it’s catchy.” Frankly, he was surprised he hadn’t been caught bopping along to silence before by the stiflers.

They were nice enough, a woman and a man and their two biological children, but they were too religious for Virgil’s liking. He’d never had qualms with religion before, but he had grown tired of spending Saturdays and Sundays (his only days off from their homeschool regime) in a church, surrounded by older people singing repetitive songs and being yelled at by a guy on the pulpit. Faking being sick only worked so many times before they refused to listen to his excuses. They also insisted he go to a specialized youth group on Tuesdays, but that was easy enough to escape. He just waved by and booked it to the closest 7/11 when they left, making sure he was back at the church by the time it was over and made up some bullshit about the gathering. Jameson, the attendant at the gas station, was becoming the closest friend he’d ever had.

“Your soulmate?” One of the children asked around a bite of toast, spitting a decent amount onto Virgil’s sleeve.

“Like daddy and I, Mariam.” The woman explained briefly, not bothering to chastise her about speaking with her mouth full.

“Yeah.” Unlike most of the kids at his old group home, he wasn’t warming up to theirs. They were too spoiled, too bratty. One had even bit him in his first week here and he was still bitter about it.

“When did you connect with yours, Virgil?” The question wasn’t asked kindly, more for the sake of being polite, and he assumed if he didn’t answer in an equally polite tone, they’d probably make him paint a fence or something.

He knew they cared about his bond about as much as he did about theirs. Which was approximately none. The mom took her children’s empty plates and placed them in the sink, Virgil quickly following suit. No use losing more computer time because he didn’t clean his plate.

“Last December. I didn’t even know it was my birthday, and they started playing music out of nowhere. It was pretty cool.” He finished rinsing off his plate and was confused at the sudden stillness in the room.

“‘They’?” The mom asked, giving her husband what she must have believed to be a subtle glance.

“Uhm… yeah?” Virgil said slowly, “I’m bisexual. So I’m not sure if my partner’s a guy or a girl or… something in between. So… they?”

He stared with rising anxiety as the two parents had a silent interaction over the kitchen island, before the dad stood up. “Kids, plates in the sink and then go get ready for church. Virgil, you too.”

There was minimal whining as the younger ones did as they were asked, racing each other up the stairs. Virgil followed, slower, listening to hushed beginnings of a conversation, unable to fight the feeling that he’d just royally fucked up.

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

“Virgil, may we speak with you for a moment?”

He froze, slowly turning from where he’d been half way up the stairs. They’d just wrapped up lessons for the day (Virgil never thought he’d miss an actual school building before, but alas) and the kids had been excused, leaving just him and the parents behind. It had been almost a week since the incident, and a part of him had been hoping they’d just drop it. There wasn’t much they could do, anyways; if their religion conflicted so badly with his sexuality, the worst they would do is send him back to the home anyways. In all honesty, he kind of hoped they would. He was sick of being here, and it was better for his record if he didn’t run.

Not that it mattered much anymore. He was almost aged out of the system anyways.

He took a cautious seat back at the dining room table, which they had just cleared from classes. The mom sat back in her chair, eyeing him carefully, as the dad began to speak.

“We spoke with our pastor the other day, and we think it would be best if we put you in therapy.”

“I don’t…” He’d stopped regular therapy at the group home almost a month before coming here, and he couldn’t imagine why he’d need to go back. He definitely wasn’t happy here, but he didn’t figure a grumpy mood was enough to warrant counseling. “I don’t understand.”

“After… what you told us? About your… urges-”

“Urges.” He couldn’t help his own disgusted tone. Of course they were homophobic.

“Yes. Our pastor suggested we try conversion therapy.”

Virgil scoffed, but he couldn’t ignore the way his heart started pounding, “Right. As if you could ever get my social workers to approve that. Ward of the state, remember?” He tapped his chest a couple times.

“Fortunately, we already talked to your social worker, Virgil. We had it approved just this morning.” The man finally stopped, as if waiting for a response.

Virgil’s eyes grew wide as he looked frantically between the two of them, the woman quickly avoiding eye contact. That wasn’t normal.

“There’s no way in hell that you-”

“Profanity, Virgil!” The man barked and Virgil shrank back in his chair, impulsively ducking to avoid a fist that didn’t come. They hadn’t hit him so far, but old habits die hard. “We’ve already signed you up. Your first session is tomorrow. First thing’s first-” He stood up, reaching a hand out to a still-shaking Virgil, “Hand over your phone.”

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

His hair was short now. Shorter than he could ever remember it being. He missed his bangs, he missed the tiny boosts of confidence it gave him when the rest of his appearance disgusted him. Now there was nothing for his hands to run through. There was no style to it, just an electric razor in the hands of his silent foster mother. He should have fought it, he really should have, but he was shaking far too much to try to move.

He didn’t like hands so near his throat.

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

Surely, his social worker didn’t approve of this. The only explanation Virgil could possibly rationalize was they’d lied about the purpose of the therapy, or the method, or something. But any type of change in a foster kid's life had to go through about a million different levels to get approved, so how the hell were they getting away with this?

It wasn’t too bad. A lot of it was using religious guilt, something Virgil did not have much of, saying he was immoral and inhumane. The rest of it was just his new therapist trying to dig into his supposed ‘trauma’ that made him ‘this way’, as if there was something that caused it. They talked a lot about his old foster homes, and his therapist seemed positive something there had to be the root to everything. It made his blood boil.

It didn’t help that they still hadn’t given his phone back, and they confined him to his room when he wasn’t doing school work at the kitchen table. He could hear the way his soulmate was losing morale, the longer he didn’t respond. The songs were darker, and were few and far between. They still refused to play songs on what he’d called ‘his days’.

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

His ‘therapy’ had ended hours ago, and yet he couldn’t stop twitching. Every time he closed his eyes in a vain attempt to sleep, it was like the electrodes were attached to him again. The images they’d shown him flashed before his eyes, of men kissing, holding hands, and were quickly followed by the sharp sting of electric shocks. He couldn’t close his eyes without flinching violently, no music to calm his nerves.

Virgil didn’t sleep that night.

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

He held to the music like an anchor, soaking in every rare song his soulmate played like a sponge. It was his only relief from the hunger pangs in his stomach, reminding him that he hadn’t been allowed to eat at all in the day leading up to another therapy session. Apparently they wanted to put him on some kind of medication, try to increase the intensity of his sessions. It was getting to the point where Virgil was tempted to pretend it was working just to make them stop.

He missed his soulmate.

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

No. He’d said no to the drugs. They wanted to put him on anti-psychotics, claiming he was severely mentally ill, and he’d downright refused. There was no way in hell he was going on anti-psychotics. Finally, after days of their demanding being met with stubbornness, they’d given in.

That had been a month ago. Maybe. Time had gotten kind of funny, like in that limbo between Christmas and New Years, or in the depths of summer break. It had been a while, for sure. They still fed him so rarely a growling stomach was more common than a full one, claiming it was part of his new therapy. He couldn’t help wonder why he was gaining weight, though. He’d been underweight for a majority of his life, thanks to a constantly overworking metabolism and genetics, along with the nasty food they served at group homes that he gladly avoided, but he was starting to fill out slightly. His ribs were barely showing.

That would be a symptom of being on antipsychotics, he knew from previous research. But he wasn’t on them, so why…?

He took another sip of his apple juice his foster mom had brought him, trying to focus on his homework. Had apple juice always tasted that bitter?

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

They’d gone too far this time, Virgil knew that much. Curse his stubbornness, his inability to just lie and go along with it. He could have just claimed the conversion therapy was working, ‘oh golly, I’m healed!’, and go on with his life, finally talk to his fucking social worker, but no. He wasn’t capable of that.

They’d shown him more pictures, shocking him more frequently, refusing to stop the session even as tears streamed down his face. It just hurt so bad. Then he remembered a shout (maybe his own?), blinding pain, and the next thing he knew, he was in his foster dad’s car. He said he’d had a seizure, but he was okay now, so they were heading home. A cup of water was forced down his throat and he was laid down in bed, commanded to rest. He was so confused, but also so tired, so he let his eyes drift shut.

Just before he lost consciousness for the second time that day, he heard a soft melody drift through his mind as his soulmate played another song. It had been so long since the last time he’d heard them play music… despite his exhaustion, he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

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

The days had been a bit of a blur since his seizure. It was probably because his brain had done the human equivalent to ‘Have you tried turning it off and back on again?’, but even that was hazy in his mind. All he wanted to do was sleep, to rest, to not have to do the school work that they were still shoving down his throat. From where he was laying motionless in his bed, he watched the slowly setting sun dip below the horizon.

There was a knock at the door downstairs. Virgil flinched from the noise, triggering a series of twitches down his spine and into his limbs. People were talking downstairs. He could distinctly hear the voice of his foster parents, but the others were unfamiliar. They were getting louder, near shouting, and there were pounding footsteps echoing up the stairs and down his hallway.

He couldn’t even find the energy to be scared as his door was thrown open and a man’s voice shouted, “He’s in here!”. A flurry of people stormed into the room, the ones in the lead dressed in blue.

Clambering, people shifting to make space, a woman holding his hand. She was asking him questions as they loaded him into a stretcher and he tried his best to answer, but he was just so tired. His name was said multiple times, as well as the names of his foster parents, but it was hazy, so hazy…

“We were just trying to help, I didn’t want this to happen, I don’t-”

“Quiet, woman!”

She raised her voice but it was growing farther away. Virgil realized with a start that he was looking at the sky, bumping along on the gravel path, the bright lights of an ambulance flashing across his vision.

The husband shouted again, trying to silence his wife. That was the last thing Virgil heard as the doors slammed shut, and he finally allowed his eyes to close.

Part 3 HERE

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queenjunoking · 3 years

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Wolf Taming pt 39

CW: Noncon - Shock Collar - Pain - Petplay

Mimi

I knocked at the door and waited for a response. Miss Eos had decided to take a nap after her late night phone call and told me to wake her up once Callidora was about to reach her final mile. Jude had sent me an alert on my tablet and I hurried as fast as I was capable of to Miss Eos’s room to wake her.

After a few rounds of knocking I decided I needed to risk punishment and just enter the room. The punishment for failing to follow through on her orders would be much worse than the one I might get for entering her room without permission.

“Miss Eos?” I hobbled across the room and lightly touched her shoulder.

She sat up, took a deep breath, and glared at me. “Whatever happened to knocking, Mimi?”

“I-I I’m sorry, Miss Eos.” I tried my best to stay strong. Miss Eos always seemed to have a soft spot for me despite everything she did to me. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t afraid of her getting angry at me. “I tried knocking but you didn’t respond. You said to wake you when Callidora reached her last mile. I-I didn’t want you to miss it.”

She picked up her phone, probably to check the time. It was three in the morning. She was on her final mile in little over six hours. Not a marathon pace under normal circumstances, but given her circumstances it was fairly impressive. Most ponies tended to start collapsing early on and their shoes actively worked against them. I knew that feeling better than anyone, the only thing worse than the hoof boots were the ballet boots I was locked in.

She stood up, went behind a screen, and began to get changed into her formal riding gear. It was important to reinforce Callidora’s place. Miss Eos was a rider and Callidora was a pony. “Did she require the harness to finish her run?”

I scrolled through my tablet to check Jude’s logs. “Yes, Miss Eos. Though fairly late. Over 97 percent of our new ponies require the harness set up to keep them on their feet by the fifteenth mile. Callidora managed to make it to mile 22 before she collapsed the first time. It puts her in our racehorse category.”

“And Z was going to waste this potential by making her a puppy.” Miss Eos laughed as she came out from behind the changing screen.

“It seems especially impressive given the speed increase you ordered around mile sixteen. Even after the harness cables were attached to keep her up, Jude kept the treadmill going at three miles over the standard speed.” I stood at attention as Miss Eos passed me and went into the hallway. I tried my best to follow her, but even after all this time I couldn’t move fast enough to keep up with other people and soon lost sight of her.

I sighed and decided to do some of my maid duties. I wanted to see what was going to happen, but walking in late would just make things weird. I’d probably see Callidora doing training in the yard soon enough anyway.

Hopefully Callidora would put Miss Eos in a good mood. It had been awhile since we had a real winner and if Callidora played her cards right she would be cared for very well. Her own spacious stall, good food, and attention. The best ponies got a personal stablehand to take care of them. It was nicer than most slaves would ever get, myself included.

I couldn’t imagine anyone willingly jeopardizing such luxury.

Eos

I quietly walked into the barn, passing stablehands that stopped what they were doing to bow as I was passing. I couldn’t help but smile at the obedience on display. I was once told the idea of using slaves as stablehands was a bad idea. Giving slaves such an important job was a bad idea. They’d sabotage the operations. They’d try to escape or rebel if I let them congregate.

But I did it anyway and it allowed my operation to expand quickly. The stablehands were given an amount of freedom but more or less had a gun to their head. Any mistake or signs of rebellion were harshly punished. They could be replaced. If they acted out they would most likely find themselves in a worse position. I chose stablehands from slaves not fit to be ponies or cows which gave them limited alternative use. I usually sold them off to one of the families that made them into various useful objects. A combination of drugs and restraints could make anyone something as nice as an artful cup holder or as unfortunate as an urinal. Eitherway, I couldn’t imagine anyone being able to spend the rest of their life like that, it's why I suggested they behave during introductions.

I made my way to the exercise room and knocked on the door quietly before I walked in. The treadmills faced away from the door so Callidora couldn’t see me. I could see her though and it was quite the sight.

Her body glistened in sweat, the evidence of her long hard run. Her ass was still a bright red from being at the end of Jude’s crop the entire night. I could see her legs were shaking. The new pony’s legs always shook like newborn fawns when they were finished with their runs. None of them were ever prepared for a marathon like they had experienced.

I watched her stumble, but the cables attached to her harness from the ceiling caught her. I heard her make an angry noise when the cables went taut. I didn’t want the ponies to rely on the harnesses to keep them up, so when the cables became taut they got a shock so they’d get their weight off of them.

She was breathing hard, but I could still tell that there was determination in her. To prove she couldn’t be controlled she had to show she wasn’t weak. All that did was show us that she was a prize though. It was always amusing to see a slave play right into your hands.

Jude looked up at me and was about to greet me, but I held a finger to my lips. She nodded and turned back to Callidora. I approached her as well, standing to the side of the treadmill. Her blinders didn’t allow her to see me, but she knew someone was standing next to her. She tried to turn her head to look at me and Jude corrected her with a swap from the crop. Ponies needed to keep their minds on the task at hand, not distractions. The blinders were there to help with this, not to make her look around.

Callidora grumbled unhappily from the swat, but kept looking forward. She stumbled one more time and got another shock before she made it to the end. The treadmill slowed to a stop and her legs were shaking non-stop.

“Jude, disconnect the current so Callidora can use the harness to take weight off her legs.” Jude walked to the other end of the room and pushed a few buttons before giving me a thumbs up. “You can rest now, Callidora.”

The mare ignored me and continued to try and stay on her feet. I grabbed her chin and forced her to look up at me. “Hello Callidora. My name is Mistress Eos. I am your new owner. You know longer have to worry about Z and her incompetence. You just completed your first marathon and I am extremely impressed. You’re going to do well here.”

Callidora tried to say something through the gag. She seemed unable to stop running her mouth even when she couldn’t use it. I undid some of the pieces of her tack, allowing for the bit to be removed while leaving the rest of the headpiece on.

“B…” Callidora was breathing hard and stretching out her jaw. Her voice failed her on whatever she was trying to say.

“I’m letting you talk right now. It’s a small gift. Think wisely about what you want to tell me.” I smiled and stroked her hair. It was a nice length, but I was going to want it longer for a much nicer ponytail.

“Bitch.” She spat the word at me, anger in her eyes.

“Adorable.” I grabbed the crop and hit her leg with it. She crumpled, if it wasn’t for the cables she’d have collapsed on the floor. “I’m sure you think you’re very strong. I know you think you can take anything we can dish out after spending time with Z. As much as I hate to admit it, she was very talented at breaking things like you.”

“Is she now?” She spoke between breaths. “She didn’t seem very talented at much aside from pushing a button on a shock collar.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “I like that fiery spirit of yours, Callidora. I think we’d get along very well if you just let yourself enjoy your time here.”

“I think you should go fuck yourself.” She spat the words out again.

“Oh Callidora.” I stroked her hair again as I spoke. “You’re never going to escape from here. You are a slave in the Society. An organization like ours doesn’t stay around for hundreds of years because slaves escape. Z wanted you for a pet. It’s a waste of your talents. You’re a runner. You want challenges. This is the perfect position for you. Tonight was harsh, but its trial by fire. Your daily routines will be easier than this.”

“And if I refuse?”

I couldn’t help but smile at that question. I walked away from Callidora and approached Jude. “Have Callidora taken to one of the bigger stalls. Give her the full works, muscle massage, bath, food and water. Let her get a few hours of sleep.”

“Of course, Miss Eos.” Jude nodded and left the room to go get some more stablehands to assist in transporting Callidora.

I took another look at her just hanging from the ceiling over the treadmill. “You’ll get to see some of the nicer things you’ll get to experience if you work with me. The treatment the best of our racehorses get. Later this afternoon you’ll get to go on a tour of the grounds. You’ll learn then what might happen to you if you refuse. It’s only fair I give you all the information available before you make a decision you’ll regret.”

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sunnywritesstuff34 · 3 years

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Working

hello! It is time for more Boruto AU, with Sasuke this time! @ghostjellyfishheart was excited for this, so enjoy lmao. I apologize in advance for this. Just. Disregard the choppy transitions. Tune in next whenever for Boruto being incredibly confused by Sasuke and trying to figure out how to adjust to living in his house. It’s incredibly awkward. Can’t wait.

(TW and CW for: unconsciousness, coma, critical injuries, tired Sasuke Uchiha, angry Boruto, probably ooc Kakashi and like six other ooc people, death, parental death, possible parental death, cursing, the Uchiha Massacre, one night stands, Sasuke is trying very hard okay he’s doing his best, both of them are good dads because I wanted them to be okay?)

Sasuke Uchiha was angry. No, scratch that, he wasn't angry, he was pissed. He was furious. He was beyond angry, he had reached the peak of anger and transcended to another plane, and that was something he didn't even think possible. For starters, it's not like his day was going well to begin with. Kakashi had stuck him with way too much to do, endless goddamn paper work. Apparently sharingan was mostly for battle, because it really didn't do shit when it came to focusing. And it's not like his paperwork wasn't important, it was. He had to review a series of reports from high profile shinobi on their teams and the work of their teammates, so and so and so and so, it was always something.

In all honesty, he had signed up for this. Well, okay, he didn't sign up for it, but he agreed to it. After Naruto’s disappearance Sasuke was just about ready to throw himself into as many dangerous situations as far from Konoha as possible, but no. He didn't know whose idea it was, maybe Tsunade’s, maybe Sakura’s, maybe Kakashi came up with it all on his own, whatever. Now he was working as Kakashi’s right hand man (and shadow in a lot of ways) and, in his own word’s, the Hokage’s “Don't Be Stupid And Callous And Hurt People For The Greater Good Because It Really Didn't Go Well Last Time” reminder. He really was doing good work, he caught multiple oversights and made sure to hold Kakashi to his word about the decline of execution, especially for missing-nin. He nearly punched Ibiki in the nose about sixteen times for being ridiculous, but what the hell did he expect? Changing things on a fundamental level and rebuilding at the same time were hard, it was pretty tempting to fall back on old methods. It was largely Sasuke’s job to prevent that from happening, and he was really good at doing it without murdering anyone, surprisingly (though he came close a couple of times.) The destruction of the Foundation was extensive and incredibly difficult, and it was surprising to pretty much everybody except for Sasuke just how deeply corrupted the village was. They were also changing up Anbu, though that was still an ongoing process. Sai helped quite a bit in the destruction of the Foundation, and helped develop some sort of rehabilitation for people indoctrinated into it like him. He was very passionate about it, something that Sasuke totally understood. It was personal.

All things considered, there were two reasons that Sasuke didn't cut and run as soon as Naruto wasn't around to keep him anchored any more. The opportunity for bettering Konoha and the shinobi world as a whole and… well… Sarada. Sasuke and Sakura had Sarada around the same time that Naruto had Boruto with Hinata (say that ten times fast) albeit in a less… graceful manner. Naruto and Hinata had a child after getting married due to mutual affection, and Sasuke and Sakura had a child because of… well, a one night stand.

In hindsight, though it hadn't worked out with Sakura, he was grateful to have Sarada. She was a sort of anchor that kept him from running yet again, especially seeing as Sakura was busy running the hospital/teaching the next generation of medical nin/finding new techniques for medical advancement and health/going on a mission every once in a while. She was also, you know, his daugther, and he loved her. Sakura’s parents had a fit when they found out, and they had an even bigger fit when they realized that the two of them weren't getting married any time soon. If Sakura had decided that a marriage was best, Sasuke likely would have gone along with that. What else was he supposed to do? It wouldn't be fair to her, especially in the eyes of traditional families and clans. Sakura, of course, was having none of that, and Sasuke was incredibly relieved. Sasuke had raised his daughter for the most part, and he loved her more than anything, but it was clear to anyone with eyes that Sasuke Uchiha wasn't necessarily the image of “perfect father.” At first, he thought of Sarada as an ambiguously important responsibility, as cold as that sounded. But then she was born, and she had legs and arms and a brain and feelings, so of course he became attached. Actually, she was sixteen at that point, and she had become an excellent kunoichi. In fact, she was taking the jounin exams soon, which Ashina might be too if Naruto had stayed. Speaking of Naruto…

Sasuke had no idea why he was surprised. It seemed that no matter where Naruto was or how many years it had been since they'd seen each other, he would always, always be a pain in the ass. That would never change. Of course Naruto would show up with his children in the Forest of Death. Of course he would do it while Sasuke was swamped with work and trying to help his daughter prepare for the exams. Of course, of course, of course. Not that he was complaining (he was), at least not in the long run. It was better that Naruto come back eventually, but twelve entire years? That was a long time. A very long time, with no explanation. Just to show how thoroughly Sasuke was swamped, he heard the news in the middle of an incredibly important meeting with the daimyo and Kakashi. That didn't stop him from rushing to the hospital anyway, but it was inconvenient. Whatever, Kakashi (the damn slacker) would probably survive without him. Ino arrived distressed and covered in blood, only to deliver the message of a lifetime. Kakashi pretended not to care, especially since he was in the middle of a meeting and Naruto was technically a missing-nin. But he did care, obviously, he was just very good at compartmentalizing. Sasuke was too, but Naruto and Sarada seemed to be the only exceptions to this rule. So, he took off without explanation and rushed like hell to the hospital, because Ino said that Naruto had been in critical condition. The idiot always managed to get hurt somehow, but if he died before Sasuke got to chew him out for vanishing, he would resurrect the bastard so he could pound him into the dirt. Or hug him and never let go. It was a toss up, either one. Sasuke’s chakra was flashing dangerously, and it made everyone around him nervous, but at this point he could care less. The Uchiha opened the doors to the hospital and rushed to the front desk, but he was intercepted by an exhausted looking Ino.

“Where is he?” Sasuke blurted, and she glared at him momentarily.

“I'll tell you where, but it's not that simple Sasuke, you can't just rush in there-”

“Tell me where he is,” Sasuke growled.

“Sasuke-”

“Ino why can't you just-”

“Sasuke Uchiha!” she shouted in a way that sounded suspiciously like the few memories he had of his mother. He blinked. “Would you listen to someone for once in your entire goddamn life? God, you're just as frustrating as Sakura said you were. Naruto is stable for now, but he’s in comatose. Hopefully he’ll survive. But his kids are sitting in the room with him, and if you storm in there all furious, you'll scare the shit out of them. If you have to go in there, do it slowly and calmly. And Shikamaru says they go by Boruto and Himawari, not Ashina and Natsu. They must have changed their names at some point. Either way, you need to calm down.” Sasuke paused, because (damn her) Ino was right. He had to calm down. He was pretty threatening on his own, but to these kids, who were already worried about their father? He collected himself briefly as Ino sighed. “He’s asleep in room 306. Please be careful.”

“Thanks, Ino,” he managed before practically launching himself past her. Just before he turned down the hall, he paused. “And Ino,” he called over his shoulder. “If Neji comes by… tell him to go to hell.” With that he was off. The room wasn't hard to find, and he threw the door open. It was a private room, no other beds except the one where Naruto lay. He sucked in a breath when he saw him, because it had been so long and frankly the man looked terrible. His breathing was shallow and he was way too pale, but he was alive. God, he was alive, at least he was alive. Sasuke could hardly believe it. Naruto was alive, and he was here. He was so caught up in his own head that he didn't notice the two children sitting by the door until he turned around to face them. He froze in place as an awkward silence settled, and the first thing he could think was oh my god, he looks just like him. Ashina- no, Boruto, looked just like Naruto used to, he was nearly identical except for Boruto’s eyes being a slightly lighter shade of blue. There was a girl sitting next to him that looked alarmingly like Hinata, and she was watching him with more curiosity than defensive aggression like her brother.

“And who the hell are you?” Boruto demanded. Sasuke blinked.

“I um. I am an old friend of Naruto’s. I- I had to see him. My name’s Sasuke Uchiha.”

“Boruto- Boruto Namikaze,” the kid explained begrudgingly. Sasuke sat down in one of the chairs against the wall, a few away from Boruto and Himawari so that Boruto could watch him from a safe distance. He’d picked up a thing or two about skittish children in his time, and he figured the best course of action was to remain passive until Boruto let down his guard. Like an unruly cat that hisses whenever you get too close to it.

“What… what happened?” Sasuke asked, trying to start a conversation in a totally subtle way. Boruto winced and hesitated, almost looking… guilty.

“We got ambushed. That's all. He tried to keep us safe and it didn't… It's complicated.”

“Ah,” Sasuke muttered. “Right. Naruto is my friend, I've known him since we were kids. He’s always one for reckless endeavors.”

“Sometimes,” Boruto conceded. “I guess. He’ll… he’ll be okay. He has to be.”

“He will,” Sasuke assured him before he could stop himself. “He’s strong. Sakura Haruno is one of our top medical nin, she's not here right now, but she should be back from her mission soon, and she especially will be when she knows that Naruto is here. He's very important to us.” Boruto glanced over at him, tearing his eyes from his father.

“How did you know him?” he asked tentatively. Sasuke smiled without realizing it.

“He's my best friend. We went to the academy together, we fought in the Fourth Shinobi War. He was always there. He’s important to all of us, before he… before he left.” Boruto looked away nervously.

“Right,” he muttered. “Of course, that makes… that makes so much sense. I mean, I always wondered how he learned ninjutsu, I guess- I guess it makes sense for him to be from a Hidden Village. I just never…” Sasuke stared at him for a moment.

“He never told you?” Boruto shook his head and traded a glance with Himawari.

“No. He never talked about anything from before we were born. I never asked because it just… made him sad, I guess. I didn't like making him think about it.” Sasuke nodded numbly. Did he regret it, he wondered silently. Did he regret leaving? Did he ever think about coming back? The door opened just then and Boruto tensed again, whipping his head to the door. Kakashi stood in the doorway with Sai behind him.

“Hello. It seems Sasuke made it here first.” Boruto eyed him warily, moving closer to his sister. Kakashi took one look at the bed and then looked away, trying to not think about it for the time being. He turned his attention to Boruto instead.

“Well Boruto Namikaze, it looks like we have a lot to talk about. But it's been a long day for you two, and I think we’d best keep the hard conversations for tomorrow, hm?” Boruto must have read that as a threat because he bristled at the words, and Sasuke silently wondered how, despite years and years and years of experience, Kakashi never got any better at learning how to speak to children. Sai watched pensively, like an owl, tilting his head. Sasuke could understand Boruto’s nerves, especially considering the company he was in. Sasuke silently cursed Sakura for leaving at the worst time possible, but he knew it wasn't her fault.

“You should try and get some sleep tonight, we’ll probably have more information on Naruto’s condition in the morning. Don't worry, Sasuke’s house is comfortable.” Sasuke shot to his feet.

“What?” he demanded. Kakashi looked at him lazily.

“Oh yeah, sorry about that. I think it'd be best for the two of them to stay with you for the time being. You have a child of your own, and lord knows I wouldn't trust anybody else to do it. Sorry Sasuke, I promise i'll pay you overtime. I can have somebody else handle your paperwork for a few weeks.” Sasuke blinked as the children looked between the man and his teacher. Finally, the Uchiha gritted his teeth.

“Of course, Hokage-sama,” he growled. “It would be an honor.” Kakashi nodded.

“See? It's not that complicated. I have business to attend to, I'll have a conversation with you tomorrow, Sasuke.” With that he was gone, and Sasuke found himself alone with two children. Two. he had his hands full with one, and now he would have to take care of three. And they were Naruto’s children, lord only knows what they would get up to.

“Um,” Sasuke started. “I… I suppose… we should go… home.” Boruto hesitated before standing, tossing one glance over his shoulder at his father before walking out the door. Please wake up soon, Naruto Sasuke thought silently. But there were a few things Sasuke didn't realize at the time, and wouldn't for weeks. Naruto wouldn't be waking up, at least, not at first.

Kyuubi would.

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