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pxrxcxa · 2 years

Text

Opposite Ends

Chapter Ten - Doomed love

C1 | C2 | C3 | C4 | C5 | C6 | C7 | C8 | C9 | C11 | C12 | C13 pt1 | C13 pt 2 |

Chapter Eleven is out now, enjoy Sunflowers x 🌻

Pairing | Eddie x Female reader 18+. Steve x Robin x Female reader platonic friendship

Series summary | Dustins older sister got brought into the group during the events of Starcourt mall, 3 months on she's in her senior year and the kids are starting high school. After everything that went down she feels that she has to keep them safe at all costs, that includes keeping them way from the charismatic 'freak' Eddie Munson that runs a club based on their favourite game. They've both hated each other since freshman year -with good reason-, but when keeping distance between the kids and Eddie means putting herself in the firing line, boundaries get blurred, intentions get lost & the heart speaks louder than the brain.

The story is told from both Y/N & Eddies point of view.

What to expect | Slow burn enemies to lovers, Angst - with a happy ending (fix-it-fic if you will), fluff & smut (in the later chapters). 18+ to read this story.

Series Warnings | Mentions of abuse, drug use, 18+ smut content

Chapter word count | 9 K Word Count

Chapter warnings | Nothing too out there in this chapter

As always, any & all comments/reblogs are most appreciated - Thankyou, P. x 🌿

Authors Note | Again thank you for your patience, and as always thank you for reading! I did have to split this chapter up because we had a 20 k + word count but that's great news because 11 will be out in a couple of days! On top of everything else I had some pretty serious writers block but Im back & better than ever - at least I think so, let me know what you all think!

Eddie | March 1986

I didn’t walk around Hawkins with the intention of having my guard up all the time against almost everyone, it had just happened. When the entitled, judgemental residents of the town had taken one look at my ripped jeans, listened to the metal music blasting from my van and watched the fantasy game that my DnD club played that they deemed as ‘satanic’, and decided that I wasn’t worth more than the dirt beneath their shoes, it hadn’t exactly shaped me into a model citizen.

But the feeling of being an outcast my entire life had sat fine with me; I had no interest in anyone in the small town I’d grown up in. They were all carbon copies of their parents, and their parents before them, there wasn’t anyone worth being interested in.

Until she came along.

Henderson had strutted into my life like I didn’t have a choice, knocking down every single solid wall I’d spent years building up like they were made of feathers, even before she turned them into dust with each glance of her bright eyes and a hint of her sweet smile that she threw in my direction, she had been unconsciously destroying them with every death stare and exasperated sigh, breaking me down with every addictive movement of her.

She was meant for me, every hate filled eyeroll and love filled smile was ingrained on my soul in marks that would last a lifetime.

I’d never stood a chance.

I never thought I would find myself completely and utterly consumed by another until I found her, or perhaps it was the other way around and she’d found – no saved - me.

She’d taken my hand and led me out of the darkness of my own corruption and showed me that, whatever our souls are made of, however they were shaped from the loud, hurtful world around us…

…hers and mine were the same, broken halves of the same blooming whole.

I’d loved her from the moment I’d met her, I just hadn’t known it yet.

And now I was never going to be able to tell her.

In the three months since running into her at the Hideout, when we had both been trying to drown our sorrows over each other, we’d spent almost every day inseparable from each other. There had been a regular post-school afternoon once at my trailer when I had almost told her I loved her, and then I had been dying to tell her every day since.

“You’re an idiot Eddie Munson.” She laughed, smacking her hands against my bare chest as I nestled into the crook of her neck, tickling her through the thin sheets twisted between us.

“Unfortunately for you, I’m your idiot.” She wriggled under my arms as I found her sweet spot, making her beg for mercy as I rolled over and pulled her on top of me. The setting sun that shone through my bedroom window sparkled magnificently in her hair, bringing out vibrant colours that weren’t usually there. The glittering sunlight brightened around her silhouette as a light breeze ruffled the stray whispers of hair falling into her face, furthering my suspicion that she was an angle.

As she laid naked, pressed against me, she certainly had the angelic look to pull it off.

“And I am entirely okay with that.” Resting her chin forward on my chest so that I had to tuck mine to still stare into her eyes, she pouted attractively.

“How did we get here?” I breathed into the warm air, my thoughts falling back to us in our first Calculus class at the beginning of my third and her first senior year. “I used to hate you; you know.” I couldn’t ever remember or even fathom myself feeling any type of way that wasn’t absolute reverence towards the perfect creature in my hands.

“If I remember correctly Munson, the feeling was extremely mutual.” Her smile was wide and carefree, her body pressed into me in criminal ways as her frame shook with laughter. Everything about y/n healed my soul, and although my only vice was weed, I was no stranger to the occasional dangerous party drug, but even their temptations cowered in the hulking shadows of Y/n's etherealness.

“College will still be there y’know?” I blurted out suddenly, tightening my arms around her as the thought of losing her punctured my chest painfully.

“What do you mean?” Her brows furrowed in confusion cutely, I smoothed the creases with my thumb as I traced light patterns along her spine.

“Come with me.” I stated, a sense of peace flowing over me as I realised it to be the only thing I would truly ever want, I’d been a fool to think I could walk away from her now, only three months in and she already had me willing to stalk the ends of the earth for her, God knows what kind of state she’d have me in by the end of the school year.

“Be serious.” She scoffed; her eyes searched my face for a glimmer of falseness.

“I am. Everywhere. Travel. We’ll travel everywhere, and we’ll fuck in every state and take a photo of it! I don’t want to forget a single moment with you.” I pressed my lips against hers ferociously, pulling away when her moans became too distracting, refusing to let our conversation be derailed.

“Come with me… please. A year or two, it won’t make a difference.” I begged, letting my excitement flare on my face, not even contemplating the very real possibility of her saying no.

“Okay.” She didn’t miss a beat, determination and excitement reflecting in her own features now as I pulled back, shocked.

“Really?” I laughed disbelievingly, doubting that I had earned the right kind of karma to have y/n in my life.

“Don’t give me a chance to change my mind Edward.” She warned, rolling to the side as she slipped from my arms, pulling my Hellfire t-shirt over her loose hair. I bit my cheek as I watched her strut over to my desk, my shirt barely covering her perfect ass as she bent down to retrieve the bud stashed away in the top draw.

“How are you real?” I asked, watching carefully as she sat back into my desk chair, rolling a fat joint for the both of us between her deft fingers, waiting for her perfect form to burst into a cloud of air.

“Don’t I feel real?” She laughed.

“Incredibly.” I shot back, wiggling my brows suggestively.

“You are damn near perfection” I promised and laughed as she broke off into a giggle.

“Near?” She gasped; feigning being hurt over my careless words.

“Well until you’re in my arms again how can I ever be sure you’re real?” I held them back out for her expectantly, but she dropped the rolling paper as she gasped out in pain this time. I flew from the bed instantly, tearing the sheets out of my way as I stumbled in my haste to get to her.

“Another one?” I murmured concerningly, watching her face contort as she pressed her fists into her temples. She’d been getting relentless headaches, their appearances increasing over the last few weeks. The only thing that seemed to help was when I played my guitar for her, I already had my hand outstretched towards my acoustic one when her nails traced the skin on my arm.

“I’m okay, this one wasn’t too bad” She smiled, placing her warm, soft palm against my cheek before turning away to re roll the joint. Even though she’d touched me a thousand times, the feeling of her still shot hot, fiery needs of desire and nerves through me.

I needed her, and not in a sexual or even romantic way, I needed y/n like I need air to breathe, she was the only one who had walked into my life where I hadn’t spent a second worrying that she was about to walk right back out of it. Even my uncle Wayne, I still had nights where I woke up in a panic that I would find he had abandoned me like the rest of my family, but the suffocating thought never crossed my mind with y/n.

She was my rock in a raging storm, the safe embrace of warm sheets after a hard day, the only arms that brought me comfort when the hate from our peers bit down through my metal exterior just a little too deep.

Y/n saw me for who I truly was, scars and all, and still thought I was worth something.

The most powerful, knee buckling feeling of affection rushed through me, and without thinking I opened my mouth.

“I lo-“ I coughed as her eyes swung up to me, her cheeks reddening as instantly as mine.

“Stay?” I amended, hoping she could hear the weight and meaning behind the single word.

She laughed, like she knew what I had started to say, but chickened out at the last second, not wanting to ruin the most perfect moment of my life.

“Always.” Her smile dropped as she stared back intently at me, walking over to place my head between her hands so I couldn’t turn away from her, she pressed her delectable lips against mine softly, pulling back slowly to wipe the unlawful tear away that brimmed at the corner of my eye.

“Always Edward.”

But as y/n had put it, I’d been stupid enough to believe her.

Those words, the entire night, every single moment shared between us had been ripped away from my rose-tinted glasses as my ring tumbled from her fingers onto the field, holding me rooted to the cold grass as she sloshed away from me and jumped into Jason Carvers truck. The painful sight had sent me spiralling after her once I figured out how to get my legs to work again, anger shot through me as I patted my jacket pockets for my keys as I sprinted across the field, finding them flat and empty.

By the time I tore through the empty school corridors back into the drama room and found my discarded keys sitting on the tabletop, the parking lot was dark and empty, no trail of y/n or any of the basketball team.

Even for my standard, I drove like a mad man to the nearest pay phone, smoothing out a crumpled piece of paper with y/n's loopy writing on it, Steve Harringtons number scribbled across the aged piece from her notebook.

“For emergency’s.” She’d smiled, slipping it into my glove box, at the time I had suspected her of just wanting Eddie the freak and Steve the hair Harrington to become friends, but whatever her reasoning, I was grateful for it now.

Even when I’d fallen from the roof of my uncles trailer at the tender age of ten playing air guitar, snapping my arm in the process, that didn’t even come close on the emergency scale compared to y/n disappearing with Carver.

The phone rang three times before someone picked it up.

“Harrington.” I breathed.

“Uh yeah…? Who’s this.”

“It’s Eddie.”

There was a loaded pause.

“Eddie Munson.” I gritted through my teeth, as I lightly banged my fist against the glass backing of the payphone box.

“Yeah. I got that, there’s only one Eddie Munson in Hawkins after all.”

I sighed heavily into the phone as unwanted thoughts of what Jason could be doing right that second consumed me.

“What’s up?” Steve’s voice was cautious as he waited for my answer.

“Y/n.” My voice dropped off as I stuttered over her name, cowering over the phone box as her words echoed in my mind.

“Y/n? Is she okay? What’s wrong? Where is she?” His voice raised an annoying octave with each question.

“She’s with Carver, she’s not safe, find her.” I slammed the receiver as I stumbled from the payphone, ripping my cigarettes from my pocket as I jogged towards my van. A long shadow crossed across my vision and the dimly lit carpark; I pulled my lighter away from my face as I squinted into the darkness.

Chrissy Cunningham had skipped out of the shadows next to the closed convenience store, she had her hands clutched together in front of her cheer skirt and her face gleamed from panicked sweat as she asked me in a hushed whisper despite that we were alone, the nearest soul probably a mile away, for something no ‘Good suburban girl” should even know about.

I wasn’t proud of it and given the situation I’d landed myself right after I’d invited her to my trailer, it had been the worst decision of my life.

But seeing her in her cheer uniform with her pom poms dangling by her side, an image of her holding hands with Jason in their matching Hawkins teams uniforms after the school pep rally this morning had flashed in my mind, and the urge to hurt Jason the same way he’d got to me, surged through me in a blinding, white, hot stab.

Feeding hardcore drugs to his innocent, preppy girlfriend had seemed like the perfect start, and after Chrissy admitted that she followed me from the school to find some reprieve from 'loosing her mind', she had smiled cautiously, but still trustingly as I pulled open my passenger side door for her and slipped inside.

Y/N | March 1986

“If only we could just, like, combine.” Robin intertwined her fingers as she leant against the poster across from me, I was seated on the three-legged stool behind the counter, my knees pressed to my chest as I rested my chin on them, holding a wet bag of ice to my head.

“Combine?” Steve raised his eyebrows at her questioningly, sliding the last of the returned tapes back into their place on the shelves as he joined Robin. I had been put on checkout duty, though I’d mostly spent our shift at Family Video quietly withering away in the corner. There hadn’t been too many customers this morning considering it was a Saturday, and Robin saved me from most of them anyway, leaving me to revel in my pounding hangover and the sickening memories from yesterday that plagued me.

Robin and Steve had both offered to cover for me at work, saying that it was okay if I needed to take some time for myself. They’d both shut their mouths when I’d glared at them, ripped Robins front door open and stormed past them towards Steve’s car, yelling out behind me that I would be in the back seat waiting to go to work.

After what I’d seen last night, when I had torn myself from Max’s couch, tearing across the living room as I tried to escape, drunkenly beating on Steve’s chest when he tried to hold me back. I had begged him to take me away, with hot tears streaming down my frozen cheeks as I collapsed on the gritty carpet. Steve held me as I fell to pieces, the weight of everything baring down on me relentlessly. A nearby lamp post flickered unnervingly as Steve had draped his jacket over my slumped shoulders as he helped me walk back to his car, while I pointedly avoided looking across from Max's trailer, afraid of what I'd see.

I couldn’t stand to face any of the consequences of what happened yesterday, the excruciating headaches and tormenting visions that came with them, my choice to drink the pain away with the basketball team and what Jason attempted or seeing Eddie with Chrissy at his trailer.

So when I woke up blearily in Robins bed this morning, with her and Steve watching me worriedly from the doorway, I had pretended that I couldn’t remember anything apart from ending things with Eddie on the field, quickly slipping between them towards the overtly pink bathroom as they tried to bombard me with inane questions, the steaming hot water that burned my skin hadn’t been enough to drown out their half-whispered fight behind the door as they argued over what they thought happened.

Eddie owed me no loyalty after what I’d done; but I had never felt more gutted than when I realised he had meant a whole lot more to me than I to him, how easy it had been for him to move on with another warm body, how easily interchangeable I was for him when he had been irreplaceable to me.

A whirlwind of emotions wrecked me. I felt devastated one moment and angry the next. My broken heart was coursing feelings of shame, doubt, confusion, and anxiety through me.

But no words were grand enough to describe what I was really feeling when thoughts of him trickled into my mind, sending great whips of agony to lap at my raw skin as I buckled over on the tiled shower floor.

I had ended things with Eddie and smashed both our hearts with my cruel words. They’d burned fiercer than the whiskey as they fell from my lips, each false word sending a new lash of pain across his face as we stood on the school field. I had almost gone back on my choice when he’d begged me to stay, the double subtext behind the word held it's on meaning between us. The true rawness of his pain crippled me, but the quick flash of the blazing headache that flickered behind my eyes had reminded me of what I’d seen in the school bathroom, and that my broken heart wasn’t anywhere near as important as Eddie, I needed him safe. It was better if he was heartbroken and alive, rather than the alternative he was guaranteed to succumb to if he continued to be a part of my cursed life.

That knowledge hadn’t kept my heart from ripping itself apart inside of me though.

I had to keep myself distracted, because if I stopped then I started to think about things; things like Chrissy walking up those steps, him inviting her into his trailer, opening the door for her like he’d done for me a hundred times. His hands tracing across her skin in the same patterns -

I was going to scream.

I slipped from my chair and started fiddling with a stack of receipts on the counter. I looked up as Robins heavy footsteps slapped against the floor as she ran past the register, her dark green work blazer flapping wildly as she spun around with a wide smile and snatched up a new tape.

“Doctor Zhivago.” My gaze flickered over to Steve’s as he rolled his eyes and stood up straight from where he leaned against the wall.

“Ugh, you know I don’t do double VHS.” Despite my black mood, I grinned as he waved his hands in dismay at her choice for our morning movie.

“But it’s about doomed love.” She held it up to her chest as her eyes puckered up in a puppy like state, I dropped mine to the tapes in my hands as my knees crumbled, her words sending an agonizing stab of invisible pain through me.

“Oh well that’s relatable.” Steve mumbled as he grabbed the tape trolley.

“Precisely.” Robin smiled, clasping it tighter to her chest.

I flattened myself against the counter as they both walked around it to join me, anger at their obliviousness surged through me as Robin continued to chatter aimlessly. I loved my only two, age-appropriate friends dearly, but their similar tactless ignorance was too much even for me at times.

“Also, Julie Christie is b-b-bonkers hot in this. Like seriously, the most beautiful creature I have ever seen in my life.” Steve rolled the trolly into the corner by our gumball machine as Robin snatched up the TV remote, I busied myself by drumming my fingers along the outdated computers keyboard as I waited for the monitor to roar to life.

“We’re in the Forest Hills trailer park in east Roane County.” A deadly shiver shot down my spine and something evil enough to scare the devil churned in my mind as the words from the reporter crackled from the speakers. A strange mixture of knowing panic and relief settled in my chest as I turned to look at fuzzy screen with the others, like I’d been waiting for something terrible to happen and it had finally arrived.

“We don’t have a lot of details now, but we can confirm that the body of a Hawkins High student was discovered early this morning. Police have not released the name..."

I didn’t need the name. I knew, I’d always known.

I had been too late, I’d been too selfish and given in to my basic human desires, it didn’t matter that it had been virtually impossible to stay away from Eddie, like there was something stronger than fate weaving our paths together, because now whatever brutal and fatal incident had happened at the trailer park, had pulled him into the cursed series of events that my friends and I were branded to never escape from.

All because I wasn’t strong enough to stop loving a boy I wasn’t supposed to so that I could keep him safe.

I gripped the side of the counter as blood rushed to my head, my body swayed dangerously as an ocean of blackness lapped at my consciousness, offering sanctuary as the glaring images from yesterday came to life before my eyes, the vision of Eddie’s lifeless body threatened to choke me as bile rose in my throat.

“Holy shit.” Steve moved closer into Robin as her eyes darted across the screen in shock, watching the older, dark-haired report deliver the news that was about to smash my world apart.

“Max…” She whispered, shame pulsed through me that her name had not been the first one I’d panicked and worried over, a double shot of frenzied terror shot through our group as I pictured sweet, passionate, fiery Max taking Eddie’s place in my mind, her luminous pale skin turning a sickly white in death.

The TV distorted in my vision as the blackness fought my last remaining feeble strings of hope, winning out as my knees collapsed onto the bristly carpet beneath us.

Eddie | March 1986

A trucks horn blared out as I dashed across the cracked road into the thick bush on the other side. My hair tangled with leaves and broken branches stung my eyes as my legs hammered into the uneven ground faster than they ever had before as I tore deeper and deeper into the woods. I hadn’t stopped running for hours, no straight thought in my mind except to run away from that.

I crouched down and curled over my knees against a flaky tree trunk to catch my breath as the heady silence of the trees pounded down on my eardrums, sweat dripping down my brow mixed with my tears and stung my eyes. I buried my head into my balled up fists until I was pressing hard enough on my eyes that I saw distorted shapes behind my darkened lids as I tried to shove away the images flashing though my mind like a horror movie.

It wasn’t enough.

The shapes soon turned into thin, pale snapped limbs; a sickening cracking echoed around the empty woods as hysterical sobs wracked my chest. I pulled at my hair frantically, trying to drown out the mental pain with physical. I flinched as a flock of birds soared over the canopy of green leaves above me, I turned to side as I fell forward on my hands, sharp rocks and stick scratching into my palms as I heaved, my loose hair fell around my face in curls as I breathed through my mouth. The rich smell of the damp earth invaded my mind as I bunched up my hands, watching the dirt squeeze through my fingers as I tried to ground myself, shivering as a light wet mist started to fall, unable to escape the past twenty-four hours that had been torturous and downright unbelievable.

I was in hell.

I had to be, there wasn’t any sane reason for what I had seen.

Unless I was crazy, maybe everyone that had ever call me freak was right, maybe I’d imagined it.

As the image of Chrissy’s shaking body slowly rising into the air, snapping into gruesome angles under an invisible force played over in my mind, I leant forward to press my face into the coolness of the ground beneath me. I’d been pretty great at creating fake scenarios for my clubs DnD campaigns, but the sounds of her bones cracking and the bloodied empty sockets where her eyes should have been, was beyond anything I was capable of conjuring up.

Comically – given my current situation and what happened with her yesterday –my thoughts flashed to y/n, my panic and worry for her was stronger than for myself right now, pathetically ironic since she had made it clear that I was nothing, that I meant nothing to her. I clenched my eyes shut and pressed my dirty palms to my forehead as tried to keep the images of her at bay, I’d rather face what happened in my trailer last night again then think about what she said, and how she’d looked at me on the field.

It would have been easier to.

I still couldn’t help but wonder if Steve had taken me seriously, he wasn’t my biggest fan but the previously douche jock did seem to be a genuine friend to y/n and I hoped he’d heard the panic in my voice and had enough sense after my phone call to track her down and make sure she was okay.

Even if what she had said to me, as her words tore me apart, was true, and there was no real feelings behind her actions the last couple of months towards me – my heart and eyes squeezed together as a wave of pain washed over me – that didn’t mean that there was anything but genuineness in my own behaviour, I had opened and bared my soul to y/n in a way no one else alive had ever seen.

I still cared about her.

I probably always would.

No matter what reasons lingered behind her cruel words to me, I wasn’t going to let her go off drinking with the guy that she had told me tried to attack her months earlier.

Or maybe I just didn’t know her as well as she knew me, I wondered what she would think when she saw the news this morning, would she instantly believe and know that I wasn’t the one who hurt Chrissy?

Would she even care?

And it was that thought that kept me running, because if I couldn’t even believe it why the hell would anyone else? As far as the narrow minded, straight path Hawkins residents were concerned, I was a satanic, devil worshipping, trailer trash, no good teenager and our High schools ‘It Girl’ was dead, crumpled gruesomely on my trailers living room floor.

Something clattered to my left, I sprung up and slammed into the tree as I shuffled back on my hands, my chest heaving as I stared at the rodent sniffing around for food in the grass a few paces from me. The terrified scream locked in my throat as its' confused, beady eyes met my scared ones, died as I realised it was just a wild animal and not a vigilante group hell bent on finding me.

I leapt up and took off again as distant horns hooted angrily in rapid succession from the main road, sending myself flying further into the disorientating clutches of the forest as my jacket flew out behind me in the whipping wind.

My feet that shuffled uncertainly first in one direction, sped up with purpose as the reflective surface of Lovers Lake glinted in the far-off distance.

Y/N | March 1986

Déjà vu hit me like a tonne of rocks as I sat against the back wall behind the counter on the grainy floor, the red-tinged luminous Family Video sign flickered above me. I sat with my legs pressing into the rough carpet beneath me as Robin rubbed my back and asked me if I was going to hurl, her voice sounded thick and far away as she turned to where Steve leaned against the counter still watching the news as her palm rubbed warm circles into my skin. As I breathed through my mouth to ease the nausea, I wondered if monstrous events were going to become an annual occurrence for me, but I guess it didn’t matter.

Because I didn’t think I’d survive this one.

Not if it involved Eddie.

Robin’s head snapped up, but I hung mine further into my hands as the store’s bell rung out loudly, the new arrivals slammed both doors open against the walls with a surrounding bang.

“Hey Steve!” I looked up at Dustin’s voice from the front of the store, dread coursing through me at the expressions on his and Max’s face. She had an open flannel over the navy sweater I’d seen her in last night and her wild red hair thrown up in a loose ponytail, Dustin was dressed similarly but just on the opposite colour spectrum, sporting his ironic blue and white ‘thinking cap’. I hurried to my feet as Max’s eyes landed on me, guilt plastering her face as she tried to avoid my stare.

“You guys seen this?” Steve shuffled uncomfortably as Robin moved to sit on the stool behind the counter as they both looked at Max in relief, neither of them voicing their solace in seeing that she wasn’t the unnamed dead student.

Self-reproach wracked me as the same comfort did not fill me, my eyes only on my brother and my thoughts on the man we both cared for too much about as Dustin spied me behind the counter.

“Y/n.” He gulped, his eyes flashing over my dark under eyes from crying all night; sleep had been well missed stranger to me for a while now.

“Do you know where Eddie is?” I dug my nails into my palms hard enough to draw blood, my worst fears coming to light. I couldn’t speak as I opened and closed my mouth several more times, no sound except a gutted gasp escaping from it as my eyes flew to Max’s.

I shook my head as I began to shake, waiting for the crushing blow I was sure he was about to deliver to me.

“Come on y/n, you have to have some idea of where he is.” My voice failed me as my lips mouthed around the word no, Dustin snapped his head away in annoyance and turned back to Steve.

“How many phones do you have?” He pleaded, laying his hands flat against the counter as he hunched over it, I looked between the two freshmen as an air of urgency and fear filled the air around us.

“Someone was murdered.” Steve ignored him, pointing at the tv that had the images of a crime scene flashing across it, I squeezed my eyes shut as I recognised the background.

“How many phones do you have.” He drawled out, his voice raising louder with each word as Max fiddled impatiently beside him. Steve’s head swung around to lock eyes with me over his strange request, confusion reflected in my gaze as well.

What did this have to do with Eddie?

“Uh two. Why?” His brow furrowed as he turned back to them, with slow movements I walked to stand behind Steve, watching erratic thoughts spin in Dustin’s eyes.

“Technically three if you count Keith’s in the back.” Robin piqued up, jamming her thumb over her shoulder as she pointed to our managers office behind us.

The others shared a confirming glance between them. “Yeah three works.” Max turned to Dustin, nodding ferociously as he slid his bulky backpack from his shoulders.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked apprehensively as I tensed, Dustin slammed the bag down on the counter.

“What are you-“ Steve yelled as he slid his bag across the tabletop and onto the ground below it.

“My pile!” Robin jumped up from her chair and slammed into me as my brother launched himself onto the counter.

“No no no! My tapes! Dude.” Steve grabbed his hair as Dustin’s feet swept the pile of movies into a loud clattering mess as he scrambled towards the computer.

“What are you doing man?” Steve whined, throwing his hands up angrily in the air. Max snuck around the corner of the square counter to join him as he plopped down in front of the computer, rapidly firing away as his fingers stroked the keys at lightning speed.

“Setting up base of operations here.” Robin peeked up at the screen as he typed madly away, absentmindedly handing me one of the scattered tapes as we both bent down to pick them up.

“Base of operations?” Robin repeated, shooting Dustin a quizzical look.

“Stop. Get off of that.” Steve tried to usher Dustin from the seat as Max stared over his shoulder intently at the names scrawling across the screen.

“No I need it.” He shot back, flexing his fingers in irritation.

“Need it for what?” Steve grumbled, sounding awfully like a tired parent.

“Looking up Eddie’s friends phone numbers.” He explained, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. My neck snapped up from the pile of tapes I had stacked in my hands, slamming them down on the counter at Eddie’s name.

“Oh Eddie your new best friend because he’s so much cooler than me.” Steve replied immaturely.

“Ehhh yes.” Dustin swung his head around on his shoulders in frustration at Steve’s childish antics. “I never said that.” He exclaimed.

“Dustin.” I whispered, but my voice got lost as the store phone rung in a loud shrill.

“Seriously you guys maybe on a Monday you can play around in here like toddlers, but it’s Saturday. It’s our busiest day.” Robin slammed her own pile down next to mine as she bent up to pick up a sign that Dustin had kicked off the counter.

“Dustin.” I tried again, turmoil boiling within me as my mind ran rampant, Eddie’s face contorted in different types of pain burned behind my eyelids.

“Look Robin, I totally empathise but this cannot wait until Monday.” He spun back in the chair as he ripped a notebook from his pocket, frantically scribbling down something as he stared as the computer screen.

“Oh my God.” Steve mumbled, rubbing his face as he bent down to pick up more stuff scattered on the floor.

“What, because calling all of Eddie’s friends is an emergency?” Robin shot back.

“Correct.” Dustin yelled. Max turned to look at me as she felt me move behind her.

“You want me to strangle him? Or do you wanna do it?” Steve offered to Robin as he helped her return things to their rightful place.

“We could take turns.” She smirked.

“Dustin!” I yelled, slamming my hand down next to Max and making her jump.

I knew something was seriously wrong when my brother refused to meet my eyes, his brows puckered as he dropped the notebook in front of him and pointed his pencil over his shoulders at us.

“Can you just fill them in while I do this?” He aimed his words at Max, so I turned to her expectantly, so did Robin and Steve. A rage filed scream filed my throat as her stare met mine, pity and sorrow reflected in her blue eyes as her lips quivered, hesitating on the edge of words that were about cut through me like a rusty, serrated knife.

“Fill us in on what?” Robin questioned, her gaze flicking between our faces as dread filled mine and guilt clouded Max’s.

Eddie | March 1986

I sped past the front door of the house nestled by the glistening blue water, the darkened windows and dusty front porch giving off an air of neglect and headed straight for the boat house hidden down the back of Reefer Ricks property, I swung my head to the sides as I sprinted down the uneven slope.

Even out here, miles away from the nearest suburban household, I felt like there were eyes on me. I slammed my hands against the white sheet metal of the unlocked door, barrelling through it and spinning back to slam it shut.

My breathing was heavy as I rushed to the grimy window, gripping the sides as my bulky rings strained against my skin painfully, I peeked through the smears of dirt and dust into the empty surrounding woods, the blaring sunlight filtered down through new spring trees, shining far too much exposure onto my scarcely hidden position for my liking. I slumped over the windowsill as my breathing slowed, clutching at the stich in my side. The small boat suspended in air over the hole in the middle of the floor that dropped off into the lake, held by four chains attached to each corner, creaked eerily as a cool breeze flowed in from the still water outside, the reflection of its' depths danced across the walls in a dizzying pattern.

A pungent off smell surround the boat house from the life jackets and fishing gear hung up around the walls, I swept my hands across the rough wooden benches that lined the far wall across from me as my stomach rumbled, pushing piles of crap and junk onto the floor carelessly as I searched for some kind of weapon.

Something.

Anything.

I scoffed to myself as I pulled a warm pack of beer from beside the turned off old fridge in the corner, out of date snack bars layered in dust, packed behind it.

Yeah, it’ll have to do.

The glass bottle slipped through my fingers and split into a thousand shards as something screed behind me, I flung around and fell back against the grainy wood bench, swinging my head wildly towards to source until I spotted the Bald Eagle soaring over the reflective blue water as it dived, it’s wings spread wide as it dipped and flew in spectacular patterns. I walked over slowly to the edge of the open window, my thoughts moving to my Uncle Wayne.

They were his favourite birds; he’d always come home with a new random fact about them, his face bright with excitement as he shoved his favourite nature book under my nose as we sat at our dingy dinner table eating a five-star microwaved meal.

“You know kid, they mostly eat fish?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, follow a Bald Eagle and you’ll never go hungry.”

I coughed as a desperate sob racked my body, bending over to grab my knees as my heart clenched for my Uncle, wishing he was here with me now, torn between not wanting to be alone in this mess but praying to a God I definitely didn’t believe in or at least, - didn’t have a good relationship with – that divine fate had intervened, and my uncle didn’t return home this morning from his shift to find what drove me out last night. My hands trembled as panic consumed me, imagining what he must have thought when he found the bloody, crumpled mess that used to be Chrissy.

Would he think it was me? No, he knew me better than almost everyone. He must have called the cops by now; he had to be worried about me. Once my name was dragged into this there would be hell to pay, a fury of uniform clad search parties out for my head.

I wondered if there’d be anyone on the opposite side of that, out looking to help me. My uncle definitely, My Hellfire club maybe. Though I couldn’t imagine anyone or anything able to stop whatever did that to Chrissy.

My thoughts flashed to Henderson as I watched the Eagle soar low over water’s edge, disappearing into the orange horizon as the sun quickly set. Jealously floored me as I wished for my own pair of strong wings to fly me away from this mess.

Like a rabid animal, I shot up and dived under the damp blue tarp covering the rusty boat, rapidly spreading it over me to cover my sneakers as the far-off sound of tires spinning over gravel made its way towards the boathouse.

Y/N | March 1986

“Have you seen or heard from Eddie recently?” Dustin paced back and forth in front of me as he pressed the phone harder into his ear. The world around me passed in a blur as my thoughts consumed me.

Chrissy Cunningham dead in Eddie’s trailer.

Eddie missing or worse.

I had nearly torn poor Max’s arms off as I gripped her shoulders, leveling my face with hers as I made her repeat what she said, she had to tell me three times that she had seen him leave – alive – before I collapsed back against the stool behind the counter in relief.

Steve, Robin and I had all stood wordless as a cold tremor ran though the three of us as Max spoke about the electrical problems at the trailer park and what her and Dustin thought that meant.

I didn’t think that I would ever feel relieved to hear that the upside down and the monsters within it were wracking havoc on Hawkins in again, but relief flowed through me that they thought and agreed that it had to be something supernatural because there was no way Eddie had hurt Chrissy.

Alive but on the run. Thing could be a lot worse. I bit at my raw nails beds, my ringers tracing the ghost of Eddie’s ring that no longer sat on my finger as I impatiently sat and listened to the three phone calls happening around me, I had been dismissed from my list of names to ring, Robin gently tugging the phone from my hand with a small, pitiful smile as I shook like a leaf in the wind.

“Eddie Munson.” Max sped past me in the other direction to Dustin.

“When was the last time you talked to him?” Dustin sighed and crossed another long shot name off the short list.

“Yeah have you seen him?” Max quipped.

“Okay, sorry to bother you” Dustin slammed his receiver down and reached for another number.

“Know anyone who’d know where he is?” Max groaned, her eyes snapping up to meet mine as I fiddled and leaned in closer to hear the irritated voice on the other line.

“I reallyyy don’t think he’s at the arcade.” Robin grabbed the phone dial and held it to her chest, walking over to the other side of the counter. “Yep, I’m pretty sure.” I sighed and pressed my lips together as she looked up at me in disappointment.

“Reefer Rick? No. Does this Reefer Rick have a last name? I mean, it’s kind of…” Max jogged over to the blank notebook in front of the register, waving her hand around as she tried to drag the information out from the person on the other end of the call.

“Doctor Zhivago.” Steve strutted past me on the other side of the counter as he weaved his way through the isles of stacked movie, the double VHS tape held up in his hand as he smirked as the customer – she was what both he and Robin would have described as a ‘babe’. I huffed and slipped from the chair, ignoring his antics as I watched Max scribble something down madly, peeking over her shoulder to make out her messy handwriting.

She slammed the phone down and turned to the me watching her with a hopeful expression. “Hey guys, I might have a lead.”

“Seriously?” Dustin spun around with a keen grin as Robin hung up mid conversation.

“Yeah. Apparently Eddie gets his drugs from some guy named Reefer Rick. And sometimes Eddie crashes there.” Max’s face scrunched up over the name as she shook her head.

Uh oh.

Ricks place out by Lovers Lake, sat in the middle of nowhere surround by thick tufts of trees.

Perfect place to hide.

Panic and frustration shot through me that I hadn’t thought of Eddie’s supplier myself, while I listened to the group try and figure out where to find him.

“That sounds promising. Where does this Reefer Rick guy live?” Robin

“See that’s the thing, no one knows. He’s more of a legend than someone that people actually know.” Max shrugged her shoulders as she acknowledged how ridiculous it sounded. Guilt pulsed through me as I considered letting them figure it out the hard way, saving me the grace of not admitting my habit to Dustin, not that I’d been keeping life together well recently, but I still wanted to be a good older sibling example to him.

No, Eddie’s safety was more important than my bruised ego taking a hit to my questionable-to-begin-with reputation, and with the man hunt that was already brewing from the news that there was a high school student murdered, every second was crucial.

“What about a last name?” Dustin suggested.

“I don’t know that either.” Our heads flung to the front of the store as Steve cut Max off.

“Bet the cops know the last name.” He was loading more tapes into the trolley, mumbling away from us as he pointedly tried to ignore my outraged face, his vest swayed like a red flag as his back made for a nice, large target for the tape I’d subconsciously picked up.

“The cops? Really Steve that’s your suggestion?” Dustin spat, a similar expression of disgust and anger reflected on his face.

I needed to speak up now.

“We don’t need the cops. I know where Reefer Rick lives.” The older friends of the group shot me knowing and disappointed looks as Dustin scrunched up his face at me. Steve slammed the last of the tapes down and spun around towards the counter.

“How the hell do you-“ I cut Dustin off before he started on his tangent.

“That doesn’t matter right now.” I waved him off, turning my attention to Steve as I slid closer next to him to join him at the counter, placing my own arms on the tabletop, forcing him to look at me. My body was like an electrified live wire, burning at the touch as each wasted second that ticked away put my teeth on edge.

“We need to find Eddie before the cops do, and every moment counts right now.” I forced myself to hold back the anger in my voice, we couldn’t afford to fight between ourselves right now, Steve didn’t know Eddie like I did – not that he’d given him much of a chance – but if what happened at his trailer had anything to do with the upside down, then we needed to stick together, I needed his help, my friends help, to save Eddie.

And myself, if I was honest.

Because if Eddie didn’t escape from the evil supernatural forces of the upside down or the inevitable witch hunt by Hawkins residents, then I had no intention to either.

The only way we were going to be able to fight this was together, like we always had.

“I just think that they should be filled in on what we know, what’s going in.” He shrugged, turning to face me as my expression pleaded with him, his own conveying his urgency for me to understand his point.

“You think Eddie’s guilty, don’t you?” Dustin snapped, my younger brother grew fiercer than even myself for a moment as Steve tore his stare away from mine and leaned on the counter towards him, an apologetic look on his sharp features as he shrugged again. Dustin crossed his arms and raised his brows at him as I placed my hand over his, clenching down harshly on his fingers.

“Steve, you and I have been through things that we can’t even bare to speak about. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t trust me. I know Eddie, better than anyone else ever will. He didn’t do this. We need to go find him and save him from whatever did.” Dustin swiped his bag back onto his shoulders as he shoved Max and Robin towards the exit, mumbling for them to move faster.

I turned away to catch the door as it swung back closed after them, pausing as I noticed Steve still hadn’t moved, his eyes glued to his hands as he clenched them together.

My thin patience snapped as I watched a police patrol car speed past with its siren blaring as its lights reflected off the store front’s windows.

“You’re coming, or so help me I will put hair removal in your shampoo until you go bald.”

Chapter Eleven

➢ Eddie Tag List } @dotslabyrinth @chanaaaannel @lem0nb0iii @xcarabear @projectcampbell @munchabunch @grungegrrrl @sammararaven @ches-86 @alinepichi @halbhohehalluzination @kalalikalas @thetrashqueen23 @bruh-tato-chap @sagittariughs @c0rroded-coffin @averagemisfit03 @eddiesgffff @churchmuffins

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meow-sic · 3 years

Text

they call you annoying

𓆝 includes : joe , langa , reki x !gn reader !

𓆟 genre : angst to fluff !

𓆞 authors note : back to writing! :)

joe / kojiro

you followed behind kojiro with cherry. today was supposed to be a nice day, if joe didn’t have to flirt with every girl he saw.

you and cherry talked about mindless things until you and kojiro got to the car. you hugged cherry goodbye and he told you to text him later.

you got in the car, kojiro didn’t even notice your off behavior. he put a hand on your thigh in the car and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

“today was fun, yeah?” he turned on the car and began to back out of cherry’s driveway to go home.

“mhm,” you mumbled back, looking out the window. he was confused, but he brushed it off maybe thinking you were tired from the day.

“so…when do you think we should do that again? maybe we can invite langa and reki next time?” he tried to lighten the air.

but you kept shutting it down, only replying with a: “yeah” or “mhm” or sometimes, just a nod of your head.

once you got home you instantly went to your shared bedroom with a slam of the door. he huffed and threw his arms up in the air in confusion.

he mumbled a few curses under his breath in frustration, but he walked up to your room and knocked.

“hey, you okay?” he asked as he opened the door and walked in. you were sitting on the bed.

you knew you couldn’t stay mad at him forever, not when he’s wrapping his arm around your shoulder sympathetically.

you wiped the few tears that threatened to fall. “i just- i don’t like it when girls are constantly around you,” you expected endless apologies and affirmations.

but instead, he unwrapped his arm from your shoulder and scoffed. “what? i cant help that girls are around me all the time.”

your mouth dropped agape and your eyebrows furrowed. “e-excuse me? i’m trying to tell you how i feel and you’re literally dismissing it! what, because you want-what? female attention!”

“just because you’re insecure that doesn’t mean i can’t hangout with other people,” he scoffed. “you’re being so annoying right now.”

he didn’t look back at you until he heard sniffles. “wait i’m- i-“

“i’m going to go since, you know, i’m annoying,” you got up and walked out the room. joe sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

after a while, once he talked to cherry about it, he goes to talk to you to apologize for the way he was acting.

you sat on the couch, arms crossed with your cheeks puffed as you watch tv. he smiles, he thinks you look adorable.

he comes up behind you and hugs you. “m sorry. you’re not annoying, and you weren’t being insecure. i’d be the same way seeing guys drool over ya.”

you simply sighed, not quite ready to forgive him yet. “you’re forgetting something.”

he made his way around the couch and layed his head on your chest. “and i love you.”

you ran your fingers through his hair, “mhm. i love you too.”

langa hasegawa

he’s usually so calm with you, patient, always waiting and willing to listen to your view of the story to make sure you’re most comfortable with him at all times.

but when he started to practice more, then he started to invite reki everywhere.

you adored reki, but you wanted some time with you and your boyfriend to yourself. you barely have any time anymore to yourselves.

you met him at his apartment, his mom was gone at work and you studied while you waited.

when he came back, it was pretty late. you turned towards him and gave a soft smile. “hey hon.”

“hey, you’re here late,” he hung up his work shirt on a hanger and changed into what he usually would wear to S.

“wa-wait are you leaving?” you asked, standing up. he furrowed his eyebrows. he usually leaves once work is done.

“yeah?”

“i just thought we could spend some time together,” you said quietly. he paused, “but we spend time together already.”

your heart paused for a moment. it was clear already he wasn’t going to see your point. you hesitated to reply, “yes.. but when we do, reki is always along. i thought we could have time to ourselves, maybe to watch a movie and something?”

“i fail to see your point.” he shot your statement down right away. “we hang out everyday, with reki or not we’re still together.”

you swallowed the thick lump in your throat. “langa, you don’t understand-“

“look, i really don’t have time right now and you’re being quite annoying about this topic. i promised i would meet reki and miya five minutes ago. you’re being quite a handful right now.”

and with that, he left. you rubbed your face in frustration and decided to leave. you didn’t even bother to leave a note or shoot him a text.

you were really upset that he excused his feelings. but, to avoid further argument of you being a ‘handful’ you decided to give him some space.

langa wasn’t that affectionate in public to begin with. a small hand hold, or head kiss was fine enough. but now, it seemed like you would want someone in between you two when walking.

one day, he asks you to come over. you were scared, you didn’t want to break up, and you figured that’s what he wanted to talk about. you just wanted to give him space.

so when you made your way into his room and sat next to him, you just broke down. the whole week of avoiding him was hell enough, but too add to it your mom was mad at you, you had too much homework, and you were overwhelmed with work.

he wrapped his arm around you and comforted you. “hey, hey what’s wrong? why have you been avoiding me all week?”

“because—“ when you went to explain yourself you realized how stupid you felt. you put your face in your hands. “i feel dumb saying why.”

he shushed you and rubbed the side of your arm. ��it’s not dumb if it made you avoid me for a week. you can tell me, promise.”

“last week you called me annoying and a handful. i just didn’t want to be annoying to you so i thought giving you space would help. i was scared to tell you how i felt since when i did you just went off to skate with reki after i told you i was upset about that.”

he pause for a second to take your words in, then he sighed. “i was being a jerk, and i didn’t mean any of it. i’m sorry for dismissing your feelings, how you feel is totally valid and i’ll try working on it. you aren’t annoying, okay?” he pushed your hair away from your face to cup it so he could kiss your nose.

“how about we watch the movie you wanted to last week, yeah?”

reki kyan

reki was back into his seasonal depression episode. it usually happens towards the winter, where school gets stressful, skating also gets stressful where he wants to do nothing but lay around.

langa and miya have told you about his seasonal depression, but you didn’t think it would be as bad as it is.

his mother stood in the doorway, “oh, good, you’re here! reki is in his room, he’s going through a tough time right now.”

you nodded and walked past her. you creeped open the door and knocked on it with your knuckle.

he didn’t look good. his hair was a mess, his clothes were dirty, and it looks like he had just woke up.

at 12:10pm.

“reki..” you sighed and walked over to him. you sat by his legs and brushed his hair with your fingers. “honey i know it’s tough, but why don’t you take a shower?”

he groaned. “no. cant.”

you weren’t sure how to comfort him. you wanted to give him what he wanted, and leave him be, but you knew he would never get better then.

before you could even say anything he spoke up. “why are you guy even here?”

“langa told me that you were having a tough time..” you trailed, still playing with his hair.

something in him must have snapped, because he wacked your hand away and sat up abruptly. “i am, so i think you should leave.”

you scoffed slightly. “reki, i know you’re going through a tough time but you can’t speak to me like that, i just want to help.”

“we’ll clearly you’re not helping so leave,” his eyes stared you down. your entire happy mood of trying to help him and being excited to be with your boyfriend was ruined.

“bottling up how you feel won’t help reki!”

he groaned and ran his fingers through his hair. “fine! you want me to tell you how i feel?” he yelled.

you flinched slightly at him yelled and swallowed the lump in your throat. you just looked down at your lap while he stood up in front of you.

“how i feel is that you’re annoying and clingy! i cant ever have a moment to myself, you always try to act like you need me! you don’t need me and i don’t need you!” his breath was heavy and his voice cracked as he yelled at you.

you sobbed. you didn’t-couldn’t say anything. you just got up and left. he sighed, irritated and ran his fingers through his hair again. he felt the warm spot in the back of his head, the spot where you were petting, trying to comfort him.

he knew he screwed up. so the week after that, he gave you flowers, apologies, kisses, and affirmations to make you feel how you did before.

but it could never heal what he did say to you, those words stuck with you. so now you always try to give him space. you try not to be annoying, and clingy like he said. the week of sweet things he did for you wasn’t enough to fix the wounds he’s caused.

“you’ve been really spacious recently. is everything alright?” he asked one night while you two were cuddling in his room. you were actually quite far away from him.

he was feeling pretty touch starved, and craved your touch. but all you replied with was a “mhm, i’m fine.”

“are you sure? you can always talk to me.”

all the emotions you tried to keep from him finally let out. you covered your face, embarrassed, as you cried.

he quickly hugged you, “hey you can tell me what’s wrong.”

“do you really think i’m annoying and clingy?” you asked.

he remembered that night, making him upset you believed his words that he didn’t even mean. “no! oh, God, of course no! honey, you’re not annoying or clingy.”

“you sure..?”

“yes! i’d never mean it, ever in a million years,” he kissed your head. he continued to hold you until you relaxed into his arms, and eventually fell asleep.

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seimeinotaka · 3 years

Text

Rêverie (An OberonXGudako fic)

MASSIVE LOSTBELT 6 SPOILERS INCLUDING OBERON'S PROFILE AND BOND CE

Summary: Oberon has been unexpectedly summoned to Chaldea. He wonders why he is even there as he reminisces what happened in Avalon Le Fae. But it seems Ritsuka isn't leaving him alone, much to his annoyance.

Thanks to jellyfishy for beta-reading this!

Once again, the story has major spoilers for LB6, Oberon's profile and Bond CE, as well as important plot points of Solomon, LB1 and LB5.

There's implied one-sided love, mentions of heavy topics such as loss, and mentions of deceased characters.

"Master, Master, you've gotten better at this!"

"Thank you, Gogh! I've been practicing a lot using the tips you and Oui gave me. Even Jeanne Alter praised my background, hehe!"

"Hey, I said it was passable. Pas-sa-ble!"

Ritsuka Fujimaru has been drawing something in the cafeteria, surrounded by many servants that come and go. No one asks what she is doing, they all seem to know or if they don’t, they don’t bother to ask.

It is so bothersome. Annoying.

So many people surrounding her, like an ultraviolet lamp that attracts all the bugs. Never mind that they end up getting zapped the moment they ever dare to touch it.

The people, the sound, the merriment, it all annoys Oberon, who only watches in silence as he eats some ice cream with melon.

To be able to smile like that, even after discarding all of those stories...Oberon doesn't hide a crooked smile. In the end, the lostbelts are no more than faint dreams doomed to end, forgotten by the winners, the panhuman history citizens. Ritsuka Fujimaru isn't different. For her, it's like reading the doujin the swimsuit berserker is making. Once the pages are closed, the story ends and it ceases to exist. She can choose to forget.

Truly detestable.

Oberon stares and then walks away, just as Ritsuka lifts her face. She looks around, the feeling of being watched faintly breaking her concentration.

But in the end he doesn't say a word as he leaves.

“Hey, you keep looking at Master!” Jeanne Alter slams her hands on the table where Oberon is sitting. Said Master is working again, too enthralled talking with Gogh to notice Jeanne Alter slipping away to talk to him.

“Does it bother if I do?” He gives her a crooked smile as she huffs and scowls. Though of course her face turns slightly pink.

“Tch, of course not! It's just your stare is getting on my nerves! Wouldn't you get distracted if someone is looking at you intensely?”

“I am a creation, not a creator. I wouldn't understand what you're saying. Besides, I wasn’t looking at her or you anyway,” he says mockingly.

“Hmph, whatever you say. Leave when Master is drawing, what she is doing is very important and I won't let you make it messy.”

“Hah, a page of your little comic? As if you need a lot of care. But fret not, I am certain that with your keen insight and guidance it will be something so memorable, up to the level of the famous writers here in Chaldea.”

“You bug...Bring it, I will burn you to a crisp! Moths do like fire, don't they? Surely you will feel at home then!” Jeanne Alter laughs. “I'll let you know that it is something so impressive that it would make you cry, if you're capable of that anyway.”

Though her Saint Graph right now is one of a Berserker, it seems the insight of the Avenger still exists deep within. After all, only those who are similar can recognize each other. Fake recognizes fake. Emptiness recognizes emptiness. Hate can only recognize hate.

Though come to think about it, Ritsuka has always been writing, he noticed she kept a small book on her, during quiet times. Perhaps a diary of sorts. It wouldn’t be surprising, to record everything she has experienced, as the writer of the winning history.

When we die, we'll become like those stories. Our lives are stories that might be discussed and forgotten, so it's not that different from your midsummer night dream.

A dream you forget once you wake up from your slumber.

“You're a tsundere,” Ritsuka says flatly as she rests her chin on her hand. She even dares to give Oberon a shrug and a smile, as if she can tell the truth between the lies.

“Ah, you're annoying.”

“That's exactly what I'm talking about, hehe!”

An obnoxious smile continues to be on her face, and he simply looks at her with unveiled disgust and apathy.

“Why am I even here?”

“Well, you answered the call, so you can only blame yourself for that.”

“What.”

“The rayshift system call can be refused. That's an inescapable truth. You lie a lot but there are some truths in your words. Or actions in this case. You wanted to be in Chaldea, even if you don’t want to admit it.”

“Ah there it is, your virtuous nature shining through. One day you'll be fooled by someone who is pretending to be your ally...ah, my bad, that has already happened, isn't that right? Maybe you should learn your lesson.”

“Ah, yes. But it doesn't change that you are here. And because you lie often, that means I can just take it whatever way I like. You'll just deny it even if I'm right. But you can't deny we get along pretty well!”

“We do not!”

“See, that's a lie!”

“Ah, I'm going to the cafeteria! Don't follow me!”

Yet we thrive on dreams, don’t we?

“How long do you think I've been in this business? Have you interacted already with some of the servants here? I can tell you don’t mind my company.”

“I quit, I'll break the contract!”

“So, one cube or two?” Ritsuka dares to offer him the sugar cube container, even holding some tongs, just to put the amount he requests in his cup.

“You really want a poisoned tea, right, wonderful Master?~”

Even if they are something that doesn’t exist, we yearn for them, even to make them a reality. No matter how impossible. No matter how painful.

That is why we can never get rid of them.

Even if we forget once the veil of dawn has ended, something of it remains.

“There's so much that is subjective. For example, you were Artoria's Merlin, weren't you? For a moment you were Merlin, that was her truth. There's different Merlins, I mean we have different Artorias here from different eras and classes. You were a different Merlin than the one I know.”

Ritsuka is busy trying different colors. Oui and Gogh got into a discussion on how to best get the tones she was aiming for, and they even went to do some research on their own. The reds of a forest seem familiar yet not quite right, not that Oberon was looking at the notebook.

It has to have a dreamlike feeling, that’s what she wanted, but that’s not easy to pour into a painting.

“What we see as a lie or as truth, it changes with our perception. Your lies and my truths might be different, but it's ok. In the end we have only one perspective. That's why lies and truths can mix, that's why contradictions exist. I mean, that is why you are here.”

“Here's some advice from the bottom of my heart, don't quit your day job, Master. Stick to the world saving and leave the philosophical dissertation to virtually anyone else.”

In the end, does the truth really matter?

Something that can change when you close your eyes. Something that is as fleeting as a moth's life.

Would anything change in the grand scheme of things?

To protect Ritsuka, Chaldea forged a story, one where Romani Archaman was at fault for everything that happened.

To the world that is on the verge of disappearing, that became the truth.

To everyone in Chaldea, the truth is that this girl worked harder than anyone to protect this world.

That was what Sherlock Holmes said once they met. Oberon didn’t like him, but in a way he seems familiar. Holmes is a great detective, but since he keeps everything to himself, he might be wrong the entire time until the last minute.

So it’s not like Oberon can take him that seriously.

Even so, he told him the story of the great journey before Panhuman History was at risk by the Alien God. A story of which he was somehow aware, but it seems different when it is told by someone else.

To Oberon, it was a story of selfish survival. A fitting story of those who fight in the mud to continue existing.

To Holmes, it was a story of humanity bravely fighting to avoid destruction. An unlikely event that might have inspired others. Or rather, that is how the Leonardo Da Vinci from that time would have framed it, since Holmes isn’t an author and the current Da Vinci is someone different now.

The events are there, what changes is our perception of them. Perhaps this is where truths and lies take root, the lie of today becomes the truth of tomorrow.

The lie allows the fake existence to continue even when the dream has already ended.

But in the end, everything will fade, so nothing really matters.

"Well, I don't know if it has a meaning, but doesn't that mean you can give it your own? Just like how I can take your lies the way I want."

"Aren't you a simplistic one? No, perhaps it is that kind of thinking that has let you get this far. What a naive Master Chaldea has. Though it helps you accomplish your goals. "

He is not sure why they are taking tea while chatting, but here he is. Perhaps it is to hide his annoyance, the Master won’t stop until she gets what she wants anyway, so he is just avoiding a pointless squabble.

"You can think whatever you want~ and in any case, even if the feelings of today will be nothing in the future, that doesn't mean they are worthless. Because they affect the you of today and that is the moment when you are alive.”

The joy of living, that is something Oberon can’t understand nor tolerate. It angers him.

Of course, he is an entity of the abyss so how could he comprehend that?

The will of self-destruction, the cessation of existence. That something is so fundamentally wrong that it must wiped out, for there is no way to fix something that crooked.

Faerie Britain wished for him because it had to be wiped away from all records, because it had no way of being salvaged.

Therefore, he can only listen to those words.

(Perhaps it is the envy of not having something? Perhaps it is the bitterness of no longer having something to do, to dream for? Or simple ennui that no matter what, in the end it doesn’t matter?)

Ritsuka ignores his silence, as she continues.

“I don't know but for someone who likes stories you don't seem like you're actually enjoying them.”

“Would you enjoy a story where you fade away like everyone in the lostbelts you have erased? Ah, my bad. Surely, as the winner you can afford to disregard those stories. Silly me, of course you would be able to believe that as the victor you can claim to be the true history. Panhuman history is in the end mankind's right path, after all, and everything else can fade into the abyss.”

Her smile is complex, almost a facade. From one angle it looks like a forlorn frown, from the other a faint smile. She plays with the spoon on her table.

"Hmmm, I wonder..."

Dr. Roman, we finally beat the British Lostbelt. It was unlike any other places we were, and I keep thinking of Percival's words...

I wish you were still here.

The sacrifice of someone can mean the whole world for a single person. The sacrifices of millions can become a mere statistic, a simple cold number to show how bad an event was. In the end, it doesn't matter.

What was once lost will never come back.

The void left in one's soul will never heal, it only becomes more bearable with time.

But even so, that lingering pain is the proof that someone was alive, that they left a mark on the others they met as one looks at the twinkling stars and reminisces of the never-happening-again past.

“Did you know the true opposite of love isn't hate but indifference?”

“Haaah? Perhaps you didn't think so but I was being honest about my suggestion. Thinking too much will only hurt your head. You should only focus on what's in front of you.”

“Whether you love or hate, you end up putting a lot of attention to the object of your affections, but if you're indifferent to it, it ceases to exist. Perhaps your hatred of everything is because there's something you cannot afford to lose.”

Titania was the wife of Oberon in Shakespeare's Midsummer Night's Dream. She was the only one who could accept the king's eccentric personality.

But in reality, she was just a creation for the story, a being who was never real.

Of course, there isn't a person like that in the world.

Someone who accepts a hollow entity like me.

“I don’t know, if Arjuna Alter was able to come to terms with his own humanity, well...nevermind. I was just thinking aloud.”

(Ideals are just that.

A concept not belonging to this world.

It is when you reconcile with the flawed reality that you can grasp your happiness, the one you have.)

“Heh-Hahahaha, that's rich, Master!”

This is so sickening.

Only Titania could have loved(tolerated) such an unpleasant existence. Only Titania could have loved(tolerated) a being born of hate, a destructive force whose only purpose is to rend everything to ashes.

But the fact is, Titania doesn't exist. This means no one could accept someone like him.

That is the unpleasant truth.

That is why people are entranced(poisoned) by falsehoods, lies to sweeten the body and protect the soul. It's a sweet elixir to hide from the harsh reality, the ultimate end of the journey of everyone, a pointless, worthless life. Because at the end of the dream, no matter what one has accomplished, it doesn't change the finale of this story and it is doomed to be forgotten.

Just as the one princess from before, who also fell in love with the Fairy King. The one who tried to give fire to his cold body. But he didn't notice this, not even when her snow body had ceased to move, a protection of love.

So in the end, if it's not acknowledged, it is the same as it never had happened.

“Tell me, does it matter to you? Are you going to tell me you know how I feel? That you understand what I'm going through? Come on, tell me your important story, that everything is going to be alright as long as I'm not alone-”

“I can't. I don't know how you feel. Even if we had suffered the same, I wouldn't know how you feel.”

Her words or her smile, the same as before. He doesn’t know which but it cuts him short.

“All I know is the pain of losing someone important to me, but that's not what you're feeling, right?”

The Titania I wish for doesn't exist in this world. The Faerie Britain that gave birth to me no longer exists, even if I have accomplished my goal.

I am merely a dream whose purpose has been fulfilled and thus, the curtain shall be down as I exit the stage.

The things I yearn for are merely dreams. Even so, I hope, because I saw it existed for someone else. For another Oberon, not the one I am.

The illusion of happiness, the hope of a love.

I don't know how it is to not be Oberon, the lying king. The king without any other purpose. The villain that has exited the stage having won, but now even that victory is pointless.

Then, why am I still here?

“For what it's worth, I like you. You're nice company, lies and all.”

“You’re an odd one.”

“I've been told that often.”

“It's not a compliment, you have no taste.”

“You know, for Panhuman history I am the hero, ensuring our world survives. But to everyone else from every lostbelt erased...I am the worst of the worst, the villain that destroys their world.”

Ritsuka traces the notebook on her hands. The contents of the rest could be disclosed but Oberon doesn’t open any of the other pile of notebooks, so they all lie on her bed.

“Patxi cursed me for showing him a world that he thought was happier than his.”

Tears fell from her eyes as she smiled weakly. “I wonder if that was ever the right choice.”

“Panhuman history isn't the perfect utopia you can imagine. Humans seek hatred and war, there's suffering and agony. While some can lead happy lives, there's so many who can't even enjoy a warm meal or think of a future. Kirshtaria saw that, he wanted to make a better world because ours was so imperfect.”

“Why are we still going?”

“Why was ours the correct one?”

“Even now, I don't know. And I'm not sure if I'll ever know. Any justification might seem a rationalization, something to feel less guilty for killing all those people.”

“That is why I cannot forget, I cannot let the history of those lostbelts be erased. Even if I'm the only one who remembers,” her grip on the notebook tightened, “I can never forget them.”

Like a dream, one time Oberon caught sight of what she was drawing, finally reaching the dreamy red hue she long sought, depicting the autumn forest Oberon knew and hated.

The words depicting what happened in Faerie Britain, the stories of Artoria, Morgan, of Barghest, Baobhan Sith and Melusine, of Aurora, of Mike, of Ector, of Knocknarea, of him.

“Even if the rest of the world forgets, I cannot. That's why I want to record as much as I can. I caused them to disappear, remembering all of them is the least I can do.”

“That's guilt for you.”

“...Yes, I can't deny that. I've caused many people to suffer, that is why I cannot stop.”

“You're an idiot. Pursuing a fleeting dream that will only cause you to hurt, as your heart tears itself apart with these thorns you surround yourself with.”

“I guess. But someone has to do it right? But even so…

“I enjoy the moments with everyone here in Chaldea and I can say I'm happy.

But I also feel deep sadness for everything that I have done and continue to do.”

There are many contradicting truths, woven into each other.

Like overlapping threads in a beautiful(horrible) story.

“I could think Panhuman history is the correct one because it was there. There was a reason why it was chosen.”

“And if there isn't? If there is truly no meaning to your journey? That the reason your world was chosen was a mere whim of fate, a sudden lucky roll of the dice? That there is nothing special to your world that makes you worthy of the title of proper human history?”

“Then I guess I will have to make it so that there is one.”

“And if you can't?”

“Just because I can't doesn't mean I shouldn't try.”

“Trying doesn't mean you will succeed. Morgan tried her hardest, but in the end, she still failed, crumbling in despair as her Faerie kingdom burnt to ashes.”

“Well, that will come bite me when the time comes, but for now, that’s all I can do, right?”

In the end, as long as it entertains, does it matter?

What is the purpose of a story? To bring joy(tears)? To break one from that moment of boredom, of despair, and heal the soul even if just a little?

And in the end, does it even matter?

“I like this Saint Graph more.”

It’s been a long time since he has donned the clothes as King Oberon. Once the façade was over, once he could ascend, he has never worn anything but the colors of the depths of the abyss. Anyone else would think they are unsightly, hateful, depressing.

After all, the warmth of King Oberon’s butterfly wings makes children smile, makes people trust him. His monstruous limbs right now are not enchanting.

“I thought you were a butterfly girl. And I have been wearing these ever since, why are you even saying this up until now?”

“I just wanted to say that. I like the fluffy cape and the butterfly wings, but you sound less pained right now. And this outfit is cool too.”

In the end, perhaps Titania isn't meant to be someone who brings the sun to your eyes, with laughter so contagious that she makes the bitterness of a day go away. She's not a neverending warmth on a cold winter, nor a guiding bright star up in the dark sky. She's not the simple to your complicated, the light to your dark, the smile to your frown, the opposite of your miserable existence that brings joy to your life. An illogical being that accepts you in spite of your incompatibility.

Was I wrong all along?

A companion when watching a wonderful(decadent) play.

Someone who walks by your side in a crumbling world.

Someone whose company makes the poison more bearable and hell, tolerable.

Someone who simply loves me for who I am. Who gazed at the abyss, saw the void yet didn't run away.

Ah, this is so laughable, an amateur terrible tragicomedy, a hideous play with no sickeningly sweet ending.

(Perhaps it is because Titania is a wretched creature herself. Or perhaps because Titania's wings have been torn off that she understands a small fragment of you. Even if true understanding is a lie, a pipe dream. Titania has seen her own hell and can sympathize with yours, with the emptiness and resentment you hold. Not fearing it, not judging it. Just accepting you as the flawed existence you are.

If that is the case, then there is nothing beautiful about Titania.)

But even so...

"...You are..."

"Did you say something?"

"No, nevermind."

Ritsuka smiles as Oberon looks away. He grumbles about the cramped space as he hoards the bed, swatting a mosquito away while she writes in her diary. The boring stories she writes that he doesn't care about even if his fingers have traced those letters.

But even so, he stays.

Ah, love is a bothersome thing.

Thank you for reading!

Now, OH BOY WHERE TO BEGIN. Title comes from Debussy's Rêverie. I wanted to play with it, seeing that Oberon's Bond CE is called Pavane for a Dead Princess, which is the title of a melody by Ravel. I am sure it is no coincidence. Both Ravel and Debussy were considered the cornerstones of Impressionism in music, however, they both HATED being labeled like that.

Pavane for a Dead Princess is one of Ravel's solo compositions for the piano. However, unlike what the title implies, Ravel specifically said that it wasn't meant to be a melody of a funeral, but he wanted to evoke the idea of a princess dancing to the pavane. However, some people didn't really listen to him. So in this case, I think that rather than to see Oberon's CE as a funeral to Blanca, it is a way to celebrate her story, even if it didn't end on the happier note we would have wished. You can listen to it here

Now Rêverie is by Debussy and it's meant to feel like a dream, hence the name. The melody became a massive hit, though Debussy later hated this piece because he felt that he had written better pieces but this one was the one that made him famous. Since it was written when he was young, he felt he was still lacking a lot, but the melody became one of his most popular compositions nonetheless. I think that story ties nicely with what we perceive vs what others perceive. You can listen to it here

Now onto the actual fic, I had this vague idea when part 3 was released, especially after all the spoilers about Oberon's true identity. I really wanted to get him, and I was super lucky. In between getting him, his profile and bond lines being translated, I just got possessed to write this as a way to honor and thank him for coming home AND to give him a sort of happy ending after Avalon.

Oberon in that bed is thanks to that comic on Twitter where he is eating chips without any care and the kind reminder of his voice lines that in spite of him constantly complaining, he spends an awful lot of time on our room. Hehehe.

Best of luck if you are pulling for him! And once again, thank you for reading!

#fate grand order #ritsuka fujimaru #obeguda #fgo oberon #oberon vortigern #fgo

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jamespotterthefirst · 4 years

Text

Five Birthdays (Ethan x f!MC)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 2.4K Warning: Implied adult situations Premise: Ethan’s birthdays with her in the next five years.

Author’s Note: A birthday fic that I wrote a while ago and wanted to post on my birthday. Dedicated to @perriewinklenerdie , @scorpiochick8 , and all the beautiful Scorpios out there. November babies, this is for you too! Thank you @aestheticartsx for reading through this mess! Hope you like it.

Year One

A soft knock pulled Ethan away from his latest patient chart. Interruptions were always a source of irritation but tonight he almost welcomed it. His body ached with exhaustion and his eyelids were heavy after the sixteen hour day.

The door opened to reveal Dr. Allende, looking uncharacteristically bashful as she entered, hands behind her back.

“What can I do for you?” he asked, his attention falling quickly to the chart. This he only did as an excuse to glance away because she was biting her bottom lip the way she did when nervous. It was a quirk that always drove him to distraction.

She said nothing as she approached, and Ethan could see in his peripheral that she did so cautiously. After a small pause, she set a tall to-go cup of coffee on the desk in front of him, successfully getting his attention.

“I brought you coffee,” she said by way of explanation. She opened her mouth to say more, but closed it immediately, looking uncharacteristically flustered and even a little anxious. She tried again, “The Vienna. From the coffee house you took me to a few weeks ago.”

Ethan removed his spectacles, staring at the cup. “I can see that. Though I commend you on the choice, I am still uncertain why you went through the trouble.”

The pretty intern flushed, looking prettier still, much to Ethan's frustration.

“I didn't know what else you liked. And I wanted to get you something.”

Ethan's confusion lasted only a second before realization sunk in. His stomach dropped and he all but groaned. For some reason, this seemed to ease some of her tension. She even looked a tad bit amused.

“Who told you?”

“Dr. Banerji,” she responded, not surprising Ethan in the least. “He let it slip while I was drawing blood for that full work up you ordered.”

Ethan huffed, sincerely doubting the old man had let the detail slip accidentally.

“Happy birthday,” she added and this time, the amusement was undeniable in her voice.

“You can't tell anyone,” he implored, feeling his face grow hotter by the second. He shuddered to think of the fuss people in the hospital would make if they knew, particularly the nursing staff. “I've worked too hard these past years to keep that a secret. Trust me, it's not an easy feat when Marlene is in charge of the birthday board.”

Lilac laughed, the sound so pleasant he almost forgot to be mortified. “Imagine the parties they'd throw in your honor, Dr. Ramsey. I don't think I can rob everyone of such a good time.”

“Lilac.”

More laughter. “I won't tell a soul,” she said solemnly. Ethan was still unconvinced and she rolled her eyes. “Just drink your coffee, Ron Swanson.”

___________________________________

Year Two

Lilac glanced around with interest, pressing her clipboard tightly against her chest. Ethan almost snorted at her feigned attempt to seem invested. There was nothing particularly interesting about the supply closet they both occupied.

“Interesting choice, Doctor,” she commented anyway, sounding thoroughly amused.

“I didn't think you'd mind meeting here,” he returned, feeling emboldened enough to flirt with the pretty young resident before him. He had already pulled her into a supply closet with the enthusiasm of an intern. Ethan might as well enjoy the full thrill of breaking the rules. “If you have moral qualms, however, just say the word and we can both go back to work.”

Lilac proved she had no complaints by closing the already small space between them and kissing him fully. The clipboard clattered to the floor as her hands slid up his shoulders and clung around his neck. Ethan responded in kind, his hands settling on the dip of her waist, his lips eagerly moving against hers.

She hissed a little as their kiss went from passionate to desperate, hands, lips, and teeth tugging at one another. These days, it only took a matter of seconds to reach that level, both growing needier by the day.

“I didn't take you for the type to make out in a supply closet,” she said breathlessly when they finally pulled apart.

“Honestly? The idea seemed juvenile until I started making out with you.” He gave her a half smile that made her eyes linger on his lips. “I've been thinking of nothing else ever since we broke into Mass Kenmore.”

Ever since that event, he'd had several detailed fantasies that included Lilac in a supply closet with him, but he decided not to disclose them as the majority were irrefutably not safe for work. Then again, the way she pressed her body flush against his, her rosy lips trailing kisses along his jaw, was anything but appropriate for the workplace.

“Whatever the birthday boy wants, the birthday boy gets.”

Ethan involuntarily shuddered at the word birthday, which in turn made her pull away in laughter.

“No one is going to hear us here. You picked the supply closet in a construction zone that no one is allowed to be in.”

She was taunting him but Ethan didn't mind. If anything, he concluded that two could play at the game. With a devilish, lopsided smile that caught her attention again he said in a dangerous, low whisper, “I just thought you'd want to scream my name without the whole hospital hearing you.”

The surprised look that turned lustful in seconds sent a thrill of satisfaction through Ethan. He claimed her lips again without restraint, successfully opening the buttons of her blouse before him. There was no time to admire the black lace that left little to the imagination, when his pager demanded his attention.

He groaned but fixed his clothes and hair at once. When he was presentable once again, Ethan paused to give her one last, longing look. A familiar, mournful feeling settled in his stomach as another clandestine encounter came to an end.

Her responding smile was understanding, as though she knew exactly what he was thinking. At this point, he was certain that she did.

“Happy birthday,” she murmured, lifting herself to press a sweet, tender kiss to his cheek.

Not for the first time, he wished for nothing more than to be able to kiss her whenever, however he wanted, no matter who saw.

___________________________________

Year Three

Ethan pressed her against the wall, escalating their usual goodbye kiss after a long day at the hospital. Though a little surprised at first, Lilac quickly recovered and kissed him back just as eagerly. When they broke the kiss for breath, she raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?”

Ethan shrugged, the pad of his thumb trailing the faint freckles on her cheeks. The truth was now that he could finally kiss her without needing a reason to and without caring who was around, he couldn't seem to stop.

In this particular instance, it was Naveen who entered the office, clearing his throat meaningfully. They didn't spring apart from one another as they used to, pretending (rather poorly) that they were only colleagues. Instead, they remained in each other's arms as they looked at the Chief. The older man did not seem to mind one bit for he watched them with a warm, proud smile.

“Ready for our meeting with the Board, Ethan?”

“No.”

Naveen chuckled good-naturedly. “It'll be a short one. I'll make sure of it lest Dr. Allende hates me for making her finance work late on his birthday.”

It did not go unnoticed by everyone that Ethan didn't exactly have a visceral reaction to the word, unlike the past years. Naveen shot him a fatherly smile and Lilac pressed a loving, chaste kiss on his cheek.

“I'll wait for you at home.” She waited until the Chief was out of the room to whisper in Ethan's ear, “I have a surprise for you.”

The heady promise stole his attention for the rest of the evening, which was a good thing because the meeting was as useless as he had expected. An hour and a half later, he discovered he was right in rushing home to Lilac.

She was waiting for him in the living, perched on the backrest of the love seat and clad in the shortest silk robe he had ever seen. Her shapely legs were exposed for his viewing pleasure, save for the sheer, black stockings ending with lace at her thighs. The echo of her previous promise adorned everything from her coy smile to the scandalous patch of lace peeking from the neckline of her robe.

“Took you long enough,” she teased in a breathy sort of voice that had an instant effect on him.

She hopped off the sofa, walking toward the dining room, hips swaying with each step. On any regular day, the sight would have been enough inspiration to tease her until she begged him to take her on any given surface of their apartment. In her current attire, he wished to pin her against the wall with primal urgency in ten seconds or less.

“I ordered us food from—”

In one quick stride, he spun her around, his mouth devouring hers in a scorching kiss. Lilac matched his passion, her silk-clad body melting deliciously against his, her arms locking around his neck.

“Happy birthday,” she moaned as he ran his tongue down her neck and into the exposed valley of her breasts.

Ethan had never been happier.

Not only because he was currently peeling the flimsy robe off with his teeth, revealing a lacy black number underneath, but also because of the three words that left her lips, as natural and wondrous as the beautiful sunset through the window.

“I love you.”

He could never tire of hearing them.

___________________________________

Year Four

Ethan awoke to soft, lazy kisses and a curtain of dark hair enveloping them both. When she straightened with a tired smile, he missed the floral scent of her shampoo at once. He groaned in protest and pulled her body against his for another quick kiss, cutting the small shriek of surprise short.

“Good morning,” he greeted between slow, delicious sips of her mouth.

“Good morning indeed,” she sighed in return. At last, when they fully pulled apart, she picked up a tray from the nightstand and set it on his lap. “Happy birthday! I made you pancakes. ”

He took in the pretty array before him, complete with coffee and a small vase of red carnations. Ethan flashed her a grateful grin, not missing the dark circles under her eyes or the exhausted sigh that escaped her as her head sank into the pillows.

“Is that what was burning earlier?”

Lilac laughed dryly, eyes shut. “Laugh all you want, Ramsey, but at least I can actually make them.”

“Touché.”

He savored her offerings in silence, admiring how her cooking had improved dramatically in her years with him. Lilac continued to rest against the pillows, looking so blissful, he couldn't help but smile. Within minutes, her muscles relaxed and her breathing became more even as she drifted into sleep.

The crackle of the speaker on their bedside startled her awake. If that hadn't done it, then the wailing that soon followed would have done it. “He's awake,” she mumbled, already moving to sit up.

Ethan placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, easing her back into the pillows. “I'll go.”

His son's crying subsided as soon as Ethan scooped him up and swayed him gently. He grinned down at his three-month-old, unable to contain the warm pride expanding in his chest.

“Good morning. You're up early after keeping us up for most of the night,” he murmured, kissing his tiny forehead. Ethan would give up all his hours of sleep if it meant holding his perfect son in his arms.

By the time they returned to the bedroom, Lilac was sound asleep, face buried unceremoniously in the pillows. Ethan smiled fondly at his wife, making a mental note to lovingly tease her about the snoring later. Quietly, he settled in bed next to her, carefully setting Jonah facedown on his chest.

Lilac mumbled something incomprehensible, sleepily burrowing into his arm. Jonah, meanwhile, drifted off into an easy sleep against his father's chest. Ethan smiled broadly, the gesture coming much more naturally than in past years, as he enjoyed a quiet morning with his perfect little family.

___________________________________

Year Five

“Happy birthday!” his wife exclaimed. Ethan wasn't sure what his toddler son had shrieked out. All he knew was that he matched his mother's enthusiasm as they presented the small, thickly frosted cake on the counter.

Ethan raised his brows at the creation before him. “You two made this just for me?”

Lilac beamed. “Yep, just Jonah and I.”

The slight pitch in her voice made Ethan chuckle. “I find that hard to believe. One of you barely has the fine motor skills needed to operate in a kitchen.”

“Cachen!” Jonah exclaimed, claiming his father's attention. Ethan bent down and kissed the top of his head.

“And the other is a one year old toddler,” Ethan finished, earning him an adorable glare from his wife.

“You think you're so funny, Ramsey.”

“I know I am, Allende.”

“That’s Allende-Ramsey to you.” Without warning, she scooped up a dollop of frosting and smeared it on Ethan's mouth.

Unfazed, Ethan licked off the excess before pulling her into a kiss. Lilac laughed against his sugar coated lips while Jonah shrieked with happiness, forcing them to pull apart.

“Either way, thank you for making this for me,” he said, gesturing toward the now marred cake.

“Antsina!”

Ethan glanced at his son curiously. “What is he saying?”

Lilac, meanwhile, shook her head comically at their son.

“Ant sina!” the baby repeated, his short arms outstretched towards the cake.

“Aunt Sienna?” Ethan guessed with a small laugh, looking at his wife. “Sienna helped you with this, didn’t she?”

Lilac seemed abashed, looking as though she had half a mind to deny it. Her shoulders dropped in defeat, however, and with a small laugh she said, “I didn’t think my baby would give me away, but yes.” At her husband’s smug smile, she added, “But Jonah and I helped! Jonah tasted the frosting and I helped with the batter.”

Her smile turned sheepish as she thought of something and added, “Actually, your daughter may have helped with that too. This makes for the perfect bowl stand.” Her hands lovingly caressed her very pregnant belly.

Ethan leaned in to kiss it and Jonah, always mimicking his father, leaned in to do the same. Both parents laughed, kissing their son in turn.

“Make a wish,” Lilac instructed as she lit the candles.

A knot formed in his throat as Ethan considered there was no need for that. In the past five years, he had been fortunate enough to find everything he could ever want.

___________________________________

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! I love you all <3

Also, I have hit a major writer’s block when concerning Part 2 of the Miami chapter in the Picta series. Slowly but surely, I am getting there. Thank you for being so patient!

Finally, if you asked me to add you to the tag list and I haven’t, please message me. I am so disorganized and forgetful. I’m so sorry!

___________________________________

tags: @openheart12 , @takeharryandgo , @trappedinfanfiction, @aestheticartsx, @aworldoffandoms, @paulfwesley, @myusualnerdyself, @rookie-ramsey, @ohchoices, @colossalpainintheass, @enmchoices, @i-bloody-love-drake-walker, @choicesfanaf, @openheartthot, @octobereighth, @nazarihoe, @utterlyinevitable, @kites-in-our-skies, @maurine07, @schnitzelbutterfingers, @doilooklikeiknow, @snesdudes, @kingliam2019, @perriewinklenerdie, @cinnamonspongecake, @choicesstan1, @queencarb, @ethxnrxmsey, @missmiimiie, @jens-diamondchoices, @adamsdumortain, @apphia12, @kalogh, @lucy-268, @binny1985, @queenbirbs, @honeyandsunfl0wers, @newcolonies, @lilyvalentine, @rigatonireid, @interobanginyourmom, @parkerattano, @custaroonie, @nikki-2406, @lilypills, @chasingrobbie, @nooruleman, @lonely-mxxnlight, @ruinedbypixels, @shadynaturehilariouscookie, @tsrookie, @mvalentine, @professorkingslay, @drakewalkerfantasy, @casey-v, @helloblueeyedcat, @mysticaurathings, @blossomanarchy, @thegreentwin, @togetherwearerapture, @rookieoh, @ramseysno1rookie, @rookiemarsswiftie, @natashajaniphil, @mysticalgalaxysstuff, @hatescapsicum, @choices-lurker, @kiara-36, @junehiratas, @danijimenezv, @macy-ray85, @adrex04, @canigetanawwjunk, @sanchita012, @overwhelminglyaquarius , @scorpiochick8, @skylarklyon, @starrystarrytrouble, @mercury84choices, @drariellevalentine, @ethanrcmsey, @lion-ess24, @aarisa-frost, @kaavyaethanramsey , @udishaman, @a-crepusculo, @quacksonlover,

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #playchoices #my writing #ethan ramsey fanfiction #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfiction

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elvish-sky · 3 years

Text

Say That Again {Legolas x Reader}

A.N: Do I really like this fic? Yes, I do. Will I possibly be re-writing it and turning it into a multi-part? Yes, I will. Thank you so much to the two Anons who requested this- I kinda went a little off of your exact requests, so I hope that’s ok, but I was super inspired by them. I’m very proud of this, and I really hope you all like it!

Requested by Anons on Tumblr: Can I request a Legolas x reader fic where the reader is an archivist for the library in Mirkwood and Legolas begins to visit more often just to see the reader? Over the months, they get very close and eventually end up confessing/sharing a small kiss, and the reader whispers, “I love you.” afterward. Legolas, having not heard those words directed towards him in a long time, is breathless. then, shyly, he tells the reader to say it again😶

and

Hey! I love your writing, by the way. I know you probably get a lot of these, so no pressure, but I was wondering if I could request a Legolas x reader fic? maybe where the reader is like an archivist/librarian for the woodland realm, and Legolas is doing research on the sickness in his homeland. together, they both find that Sauron has returned, and become really close over the time they’ve spent together. maybe the reader could join the fellowship with him? it’s just an idea based on a fic I read a while ago. you could do what you like with it, but I thought you could turn it into whatever you like. Thanks!

Word Count: 1,431

Pairing: Legolas x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, other than that I think that’s it.

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Say That Again

You sat curled up in your favorite chair in the back corner of the library and began to read, taking a break from your work. You were an archivist for the Library of the Woodland Realm, and you loved your job. Books were one of your favorite things in life, and so it was only natural for you to work in the library. Not only was it full of tomes of knowledge, but it was also absolutely stunning. Like everything else in the kingdom, it embodied nature, with smooth sweeping arches of stone and vines trailing along the walls. There were cuts in the stone to allow sunlight to brighten the dark, and the dust shone in the sunbeam on your table that was also illuminating your (h/c) hair, making it glow.

You looked up as someone plopped into the seat across from you. Legolas, Prince of the Woodland Realm, had started visiting the library rather suddenly several weeks ago, looking for answers about the blight and darkness that were spreading through the forest. Shocked at first about how much he cared about the forest, and then even more so at how interested he was in you, it had been rather awkward at first. He was the prince, and you were just another elf, of no importance. Despite your differences, you had become fast friends, although you had wished for more since you had first laid eyes on him, years ago.

He slammed a thick book down onto the table. “I think this one may contain the answers!” You glanced at the title. Blights of Nature and Their Causes. As much as you did not want to get your hopes up, this one looked promising.

“Where did you find this?” you flipped open the cover, admiring the pretty endpapers. Whoever had authored this book had clearly taken the time to make sure it was presentable.

“In the ‘Ancient Lore’ section, the top of the last shelf.” You could tell he had been in the far reaches of the library, he was absolutely covered in dust. You absentmindedly reached out to brush off his shoulder, making him blush, but you quickly withdrew your hand once you realized what you were doing.

“What were you doing back there?”

“I figured that we’ve had no luck looking in the places where it would make sense to find answers, so I looked in a place where it wouldn’t make sense.”

You chuckled at his explanation. “That may be the least-well thought out reasoning I have ever heard.”

“Nevertheless, this one might be it. I mean, it mentions blights in the title! What’s happening outside is definitely a blight.”

You could understand his excitement. You had been looking for some sort of explanation for weeks, and the darkness was only spreading. You bent over the book, head bowed next to his as you poured over the pages together.

Sometime later, you awoke, hearing a gasp, to find your head resting on Legolas’ chest. You were somehow lying between his legs with the book resting on your stomach as he peered at it over your shoulder. “What is it?” you responded to his cry, blinking groggily. “I think I’ve found something.” Your eyes scanned the page he was on, flying across the words as you searched for what he meant. They came to a rest on the line A spreading of darkness in a forest, and an infestation of dark creatures, often herald the arrival of dark sorcery.

“Dark sorcery?” you glanced up at him, your worry mirrored in his eyes looking back at you.

“It makes sense,” you could feel his mind spinning, sense his brain questioning, searching for an answer. “But what sorcery is strong enough to corrupt the Woodland Realm?”

“I do not know,” you replied. “But I fear for all our safety against one this powerful. We must learn who is doing this.”

“I know of someone who may be able to answer our questions.” Legolas strode into the library the next morning with a purposeful air. You looked up from your work. He was wearing a tunic and leather boots, like always, and his hair loose except for those two small braids on either side of his head. He looked, to put it simply, absolutely wonderful. But then, when did he not?

You were sure that you didn’t look half as put together- you had spent the whole night after he left-which was admittedly not much, he had stayed pretty late- pouring over ancient manuscripts and old texts, trying to find mention of any sorcerers powerful enough to corrupt a whole forest. You had found nothing, and looked rather worse for wear.

“Who?” you were frantically attempting to rein in your unruly hair as you spoke.

“Gandalf the Grey. I sent him a bird last night and he replied, he has found something most troubling and thinks it may be related. I’m traveling to Rivendell today on unrelated business and he’ll be there, so I’ll ask him then.”

Now you were busy brushing out your clothes and picking lint off of them. Legolas looked at you, eyes drawn from where they had been steadily focused on the wall behind you by your frantic movements. “Y/N, what are you doing?” He grabbed your hand. “I’m just… nothing.” You looked down in embarrassment, eyes firmly fixed on his boots. “You’re primping, aren’t you?” “Well, it’s not fair for you to just tramp in here looking perfect all the time!” You stepped back from him, realizing what you had just said. “Well, you- uh- you don’t look perfect, per se, more like… well put together!”

Your self-conscious stammering had just made you feel worse. “Look, Legolas. I’m sorry. I very much did not mean to say that.” “It’s ok, Y/N. I do look pretty great.” He did a little twirl to show off just how great, and you felt the blood rush to your cheeks again.

“Now, Y/N, you might want to go upstairs and grab some things for the road if we want to be out of the forest by midday.”

“Wait- I’m coming?”

“Of course, Y/N! You didn’t think that after all of the help you gave me you wouldn’t be included when we finally get our answer?”

Sheepishly, you nodded.

“Ok, well, go pack. I’ll put these books back and be waiting ready to go.”

“Thank you, Legolas!” you exclaimed as you turned to the door. “Love you!”

“What did you just say?” Legolas spoke, and you spun to see him, face pale with shock, leaning against your table.

“I said thanks.” It had been a passing comment, and you didn’t remember saying anything else. Until you did. “Oh, shit!” you clapped a hand over your mouth and internally smacked yourself. If he did not dislike me for my oddities before, he’ll hate me now, you thought.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Legolas. It was just a slip of the tongue, it meant nothing…” you trailed off as he stepped closer to you.

He grabbed your chin in his hand, gazing into your eyes. “Say that again.”

“It meant nothing?” you were so very confused.

“No, Y/N. The other thing.” He looked mildly exasperated with you now but was still gazing at you with that peculiar expression on his face.

“I love you?” you stammered, wondering if that was, in fact, the right thing to say.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

With this, his hand on your chin guided your lips to press against his. Finally, you thought as you melted into the kiss, surrendering yourself to him. You had wanted this for so long, and now it was finally happening. Your hands were tangled in his hair like you’d wanted them to be ever since you’d first met him. One of his was supporting your neck, and the other was wrapped around your back, pulling you closer into him.

Panting, you broke away. “I should go pack. We want to be on the road soon.” He nodded, seeming to come back to reality. “I’ll be waiting here when your ready, melleth nin.” He said the words to your retreating back, and as you heard them you smiled. Spinning around again, you strode back to him and grabbed his shirt to pull his lips down to yours. “We can wait ten more minutes, right?” “Of course.” He kissed you again, and you lost yourself in him, his arms wrapped around you, holding on to each other as you would be for the rest of your lives.

Everything tag 💖: @entishramblings @boyruins @itgetsatadhazy @anjhope1

Legolas tag: @sheriffgerard

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daisywrites4you · 3 years

Text

Your Spark - Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Co-Star AU

Author’s Notes: No confirmed Reader Gender, Age is not confirmed but is younger than Charlie, Slight Hint at Slow Burn (within the one-shot), Season 2 concept and NOT confirmed

Your life never seemed to have its spark. Everything being an endless fleet of things needed to be done and experiences always half-finished. That was until it started with a chance meeting on a film-set. Your first day being on the Julie and The Phantoms set was all due to the off-chance that you managed to get the job as a new character: Reggie’s potential love interest. You were widely shocked to have managed such a high role after expecting to get supporting-cast or a background character. You remembered bits and pieces but your stagefright did block a lot out. Your audition had included a cover of ‘Can’t blame a girl for trying’ by Sabrina Carpenter while playing your acoustic. You had shyly walked into the room and almost tripped over a sound card on the floor. You felt like you’d die from embarrassment before you would ever even make it to the judges table. You had introduced yourself and started your lines and tried to avoid eye contact. When you finally managed to look up, the director seemed shocked and interested in your acting. So when it finally came to singing, you felt more comfortable and gave it your all. You remembered hearing cheering from the doorway and the clapping from those who were listening in. It gave you a sense of pride but you never anticipated being something special. Still, you were elated to get the opportunity to meet and work with the actors you learned to adore after watching season one. Your life was finally coming together...that was until your eyes met viridescent ones.

You were walking to the break room to meet the cast for the first time. Your first day jitters seeming to get worse and worse as you neared the door. After all, these were your idols that you were about to meet. Mainly, you were most nervous to meet Charlie, your current celebrity crush. You wouldn’t describe yourself as obsessed or anything, just a small fascination with his smile and chipper attitude. You couldn’t help it, your feelings for the dork emerged after his first appearance on Charmed and the small crush never really went away after that. Even so, you were determined to not make a fool of yourself.

Your hand met the handle of the door as you heard laughs echoing from inside. Your hands buzzed as you tried to gulp down the intense anxiety stirring through you. You turned the knob after fighting any mental doubts you had and pulled open the door. The sounds of laughter died down and all eyes fell on you. Now your anxiety spiked and you had to hold down the urge to run out of the room. You tried to avoid seeming scared and looked for something to catch your eyes so you wouldn’t freak out. When you finally managed to look around your eyes met another pair. They were intense and bright and you had to almost yell at yourself mentally to realize you were staring a little too long. Tearing your eyes away, you finally managed to see who those eyes belonged to...Charlie Gillespie. “Oh god,” you mentally shouted at yourself.

Everything seemed to go so slow but in reality it had only been a few seconds that your eyes met his. Everyone seemed to now understand that you were a new member and began to get up and introduce themselves. They were all so kind and gentle with you, making sure you weren’t spooked. Social anxiety is a major issue with you, so usually settings like this overstimulated you, however, this was genuinely nice. By the time you became more comfortable goofing around, you could feel a pair of eyes on you. You peered around the room as you spoke and your eyes met Charlie’s once more. You felt small tingles running along your back, and decided to flash him a small smile before continuing on as normal. At some point he joined the group and started conversing with you too.

As the day went on you and Charlie really hit it off as friends and it felt like you guys had been friends for far longer than it seemed. You had already started talking about your childhood, the good memories, that is, and he his own. He wasn’t the only friend you made however. You had gotten really close with Madison and Jeremy.

It has been some time now and you’d come to describe the cast as a family you never anticipated to have. Slowly your comfort levels developed and you started to become more comfortable around the cast, however there was some part of you that still held up reservations of showing who you were. No matter what you couldn’t shake that. Even so, they began to learn your love for reading, your admiration for the show, and how passionate you are as a person.

“I can’t believe your favorite line from the show was that of all things!” Mads teased loudly.

“Can you honestly blame me?” You questioned, flashing her a cheeky smile. You guys had gotten on the topic of season one and you both had started comparing favorite lines from the show. Your heart was currently still stuck on, “This is an interesting little relationship you and I have.” Mads couldn't help but agree that it is a good quote and any girl would swoon being told that. I mean, that scene did cause that crush of yours on Charlie to spiral once more when you first started getting into the show after finishing Charmed a year prior. However, you did try to shove those feelings far far away. You didn’t want any awkward tension or teases from the cast...especially from Madison. That girl would never let you live it down, you blame the gen z matchmaker within her. You couldn’t help but compare the young teen to a little sister and you had grown quite attached to her as you worked together on set. You’d spent most of your days with her at work, and even spent some time outside of work going shopping for squishmallows, thrifting, or even just having small movie nights. You knew one day you’d tell the curly haired Latina your woes. Until then, it was more so sneaky remarks and avoiding any talks of relationships in general. You were glad she was so disinterested in romance due to her career. Even so, you really had to keep it on the downlow, especially after this conversation. You couldn’t have her knowing that it wasn’t just the quote that gave you butterflies in that scene.

“Honestly girl, I’m just excited to see more favorite quotes being posted once this new season is released,” Madison beamed before continuing, “We’ve already gotten so far into filming.”

She was right though. You knew there was going to be more fan art and new content being issued. You honestly couldn’t wait to finally be a part of the mix. You had a huge feeling that fans were either going to be jealous of you, be upset that you ruined their ship, or ship you endlessly with Reggie. Thankfully, the shipping couldn’t be spread to real life because of Jeremy’s marriage. That thought almost made you sigh in relief. Your upcoming scene with Jeremy was actually happening soon and the scene entails to where you first meet after a JATP performance. Your characters are meant to walk right into each other and thus develop into an instant attraction and soon your character’s backstory; why they’re a ghost.

Your response to Madison was a laugh and, “Oh yeah, let's hope it's nothing too crazy...if you get what I mean,” nudging her arm as you went on.

She scrunched her nose and this makes you belt into a laughing spree, to which she begrudgingly joins soon enough. Eventually three figures emerge into view, your favorite ghost boys are back from set. “What are you guys laughing about?” Charlie asked with a chuckle and smile.

“Oh, just the fandom and the interesting things that will be posted once the season is dropped,” Madison joked while emphasizing ‘interesting.’

The boys all groaned but still had huge smiles on their faces while they did so. We all knew sad or ‘spicy’ content would be posted, and no matter how awkward it could sometimes be, we still adored the effort fans put into their works. It was one of the most fulfilling parts of the job; the endless support you receive.

You couldn’t help but smile at the boys. “Honestly guys, I’m excited to see all the stuff that’ll be released,” You expressed excitedly.

You were almost hopping up and down and it took a lot for the group to not laugh at your excitement. They were used to this type of adoration, but they knew you weren't, and they couldn’t help but see a younger version of themselves in you. They all whooped in agreement and you brought the conversation full circle by bringing up favorite quotes. You couldn’t help but admire Charlie as he expressed his favorite scenes, quotes, and memes of the show. The way he expressed himself via his movements, the way his presence radiates, and how passionate he is, made your eyes instinctively glue to him. You knew the group was around and tried to keep your eyes off of him to avoid suspicion. Although, you couldn’t really help the heartfelt stare you shot his way anytime a laugh or smile came from the Canadian.

There were many moments within the month or so it’s been with the dork that had slowly but surely made his way into your heart. After all, you worked on set together, so it was only natural for you both to get as close as you have. You were okay with that for some time until the day you realized your “celeb crush” was much more than a small fascination and was developing into much more. You were a quarter into filming and were currently getting your makeup done before set. Your mind kept wandering while real life slowly faded in and out. Thoughts and the sounds around you blurred together until you felt the tingles through your scalp as your stylist fixed your hair. Now, you could not get this specific memory out of your head; it was as vivid as when you first experienced it.

It was just any other filming day and the cast was on lunch break after having filmed for 5 hours. You were dying to get something to eat or you felt like you’d hurl. So you scurried to the line and ordered your food before rushing to sit down. You were quick to scarf down your food before the rest of the cast could even manage to sit down. Mads sat down and noticed your now empty plate, “Damn girl. Your stomach really went ‘Es hora de comer.’”

You peered up at the girl with a grin and laughed at her tiktok reference. She recently got you caught up on the references, gen z humor, and even set up a tiktok account that you occasionally post on. “I was hungry, miss girl. They do be starving us on the regular,” You whined, “Also, not you teasing me for eating quickly when we both know that you are always eating, especially on Instagram Live.”

Your hint of sass was not missed and Mads makes sure to exaggerate her gasp by making it as loud as possible while clutching her chest. This makes you both burst into a fit of giggles. You weren’t really paying attention to your surroundings before a pair of hands made their way into your hair. A surge of tingles burst along your scalp and upper back. You had a feeling you knew who it was but looked up to confirm the culprit. Of course your eyes met Charlie’s and you couldn’t help but get lost in them for a second; his eyes were always a warmer shade when you peered into them. As the eye contact was made, you could feel his fingers curling into your hair as you let out a giggle and relaxed into his touch. You had gotten used to his affectionate behavior and your heart was quite fond of it now. After all, he’s been doing things like this for a while now. You give him a teasing smile before muttering a simple, “Hey.” He offers you a smile back and asks the famous Joey Tribbiani line, “How you doin’?”

“I’m doing good now that I’m not dying of starvation,” You explained. His response to get under your skin per usual was, “Oh, poor baby~” while ruffling your hair.

You were flustered but decided to scoff at his response. “You may be a tad older than me, C, but this ‘poor baby’ can still kick your ass. Starvation is no laughing matter.”

You were only joking and the brunette could tell too. Even so, his hand tightened in your hair as your threat was still fresh in the air. If it weren’t for Madison laughing, you would have almost forgotten she was there. “You guys bicker like an old married couple,” she taunted.

Ever since that day you’ve craved nothing more than to be something more to him. It didn’t help when his love language is physical touch and he gives you cute nicknames; of course all of these were consented to and talked about. You both had spent time figuring out nicknames and even boundaries; which made you fall even harder for Charlie due to the man’s respect of others. Still, your brain relentlessly argued whether the actions were platonic or not. The memory of his touch still burned your skin with desire, and his eyes always seemed to captivate you, you know if you stared for too long, you’d be a goner. You wanted to tell him how much you loved him, but the impromptu feeling of rejection eased its way into your anxieties and you crumbled before it. So instead you’ve been endlessly daydreaming of what could be for the last month.

Your thoughts were once again interrupted by your stylist as she finished up your hairdo for the next scene you’d be filming. This scene entails a kiss scene with Reggie and you were dreading it entirely. It was bad enough that the man is married, but your feelings for Charlie, and brotherly relationship with Jer just made it worse. You were just hoping you wouldn’t have to reshoot too many times. You made your way to the set and as soon as you made it inside you spotted Charlie out of the crowd. You could already feel the tension throughout the room building. Anyone could see it; the anxiety of the shoot and the way you both stared at each other. You, with hope and him...well, you weren’t sure yet. It’s hard to pinpoint a single word for how he sees you when his eyes are so genuine and open to everyone he meets. You could only ever describe it as a warm feeling. Like, when you get freshly dried blankets out of your drying machine and bundle into them after a long rainy day.

Before you could manage to utter a response, Jeremy, who was at your side, whispers teasingly to you, “I do not like the energy we’ve created in the studio today.”

This broke you from your trance and you bursted into laughter. Of course the rest of the cast was confused at your outburst but you were thankful to have had Jeremy take off some of your stress. Jeremy was just as glad, after all, he noticed how your jaw was clamped tight and your arms were tense when entering the room prior. He took that as a small victory for the day. Of course that also didn’t go unnoticed from the Canadian across the room either.

After some time of filming, a lot of mess ups, and occasional chats, you managed to get to the 2nd to last scene of the day. Your character is arguing with Reggie. Both seemed to be annoyed with the other for avoiding each other. Thus, the scene is an argument. The next visual cues onto you. Your strands of locks were evident along your furrowed brow. Almost as if you were sweating from the heated argument that is occurring within the scene. The scene was written and described to have a lot of sexual tension without having to allude to anything crazy. The next shot is you screaming, “God why can’t you just man up for once and stop avoiding me? You can flirt with all the girls you want but can’t seem to even look me in the eyes. What is wrong with you?!”

After that it is supposed to pan to Reggie. Thus zooming into him with a hurt look all the while he looks from my eyes to my lips. Then he shouts while running up to me and cupping my face, “Because I’m in love with you and it scares me,” then crashing his lips into mine.

We’ve had to shoot this scene twice already for either cringing or messing up a line. However, this shot was the kicker because we both secretly agreed to imagine each other as the person we had feelings for.

The conversion with Jeremy had gone like this after the first few mess ups, “Okay so this isn’t working.”

To which you responded with a sigh, “yeah it’s just too weird...we keep letting our real lives divide us from our characters for this scene.”

He nodded his head in response before scratching his head. “How about we pretend that we aren’t talking to each other OR each other’s characters...and instead someone who holds our heart?” Jeremy offered thoughtfully.

You were shocked to have heard such a smart but scary plan. That’s when you paled, did he know of your crush? Before you could even ask he was quick to the punch. “I know. I figured it out after some time. The stares you gave him were a dead giveaway. I won’t tell anyone, but I think it would be a great way to get your feelings out there without having to subject yourself to that type of scenario right now. Use it for your gain and not your hindrance...if that makes sense?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the goofy brunette. He really was like family to you and he knew more about you than you expected. You were just glad you didn’t have to bottle it up from another person."I'm ready to try again, if you are?" Thus cueing to our now revised and improved scene. The scene now had so much pent up frustration and tension it was addicting to watch. No one could seem to tear their eyes away.

Thus, Kenny yelled cut and everyone was cheering. Everyone except Charlie, that is. You quickly looked at the male, his eyes for the first time since you met him were closed off and had a faraway look to them. Your feelings of dread and worry kicked in and you wondered what was wrong. Maybe you didn’t do the scene right? You weren’t honestly sure what to do in that moment, up until you felt Jeremy’s hand grab your shoulder and shake you slightly. “Hey, you did great! Our plan worked out well,” Jer made sure to mutter that last part.

He was now the only one who 100% knew of your feelings. You speculate that others are starting to catch on but weren’t sure entirely. Your response to him was, “Thanks, Jer. God I wish I could just say that to him myself, to be honest.”

Jeremy got a small chuckle out of that and pats your head before saying, “You’ll be ready one day...maybe sooner than later...mainly after that scene.”

You look at him questioningly before asking, “What is that supposed to mean?”

He shook his head and gave you a small smile before walking off. Now you were confused by two males in your life. “God, this is why I usually stick to female friends...at least there’s no riddles with women,” you thought to yourself.

You couldn’t manage to find Charlie after that scene and didn’t find him at all for the rest of the filming day. This aggravated you a lot because you were excited to hear the praise from him the most. After all, that was the most major scene in the entire season for your character. At times like this you wished you had Charlie’s number to just text him and see how he was doing. But even after all these months, you never managed to ask for his number. You guys would just rely on conversation at work. Plus you assumed he was the busy type and wouldn’t be on his phone often anyways. So instead you made your way to Jeremy after a few hours to see if anything was going on. He seemed just as carefree as usual, figures.

"He's been missing since the 2nd to last scene of the day and you're not worried?" You ask Jer.

“No, because you could always shoot him a text. I’m sure he’s alright and just needed time to cool off after filming,” Jeremy says but his voice doesn’t sound so confident. It almost seemed like he was lying.

“I don’t exactly have his number yet, bub,” you grumbled.

Jeremy laughed at your expression and nudged you, “Hey, cut me some slack, I’m trying to help.”

"If you give me his phone number, I might reconsider,” you say with a smirk and gleaming eyes. Jeremy contemplated it but thought it was best that the phone number was earned and not given out by someone else. Consent is key guys.

At some point you gave up searching for the man, “He’s an adult and can handle himself,” you thought.

You made your way to your trailer and you soon heard footsteps approaching you. Owen’s voice interrupted your thoughts, “Hey, are you okay? You seem kind of upset.”

You looked up to the blonde and gave him the sincerest smile you could manage. “Yeah…” your response was off timed and almost broken and was a dead giveaway that it was a lie. You scolded yourself for your horrible acting.

“I can tell you aren’t. Mind if we talk about it?” He asked softly. Of course you couldn’t say no to him, his offer was too sincere and heartfelt.

So instead you sighed and muttered, “Okay but in private. Come into my trailer.” He nodded his head in response and followed you inside.

“Where do I even start?” This was more so a question you were asking yourself and less so him.

“If you have to start with bullet points, that's totally fine,” he offered.

You nodded in relief and began listing your current issues. “Honestly, I’m worried about Charlie. Usually he’s in a chipper mood and always there to support me but today he was off. He looked so spaced out and I haven’t seen him at all since then. I was hoping for some sort of ‘congrats’ I guess. Plus, I’m scared I may have upset him somehow.”

You had sputtered some of the words so fast it took Owen a minute to process. Your anxiety spurred out of haywire as you waited for his response. Once he finally had collected the information and put two and two together, he hadn’t even responded to what you said and instead gasped and blurted, “Oh my god, you’re in love with him aren’t you?”

You couldn't manage to handle another person figuring it out and you froze on spot. A bunch of excuses filled your thoughts but nothing ever managed to come out. So instead you drop your head and offer a small nod to the smart blonde for connecting two and two together. You weren’t the only one now silent, for Owen was now just as shocked and processing what had just happened. Both tried to come up with something to say but fell short until you decided to speak up and say, “It started as a celebrity crush when I was first introduced to the show Charmed and then spiraled as I watched JATP. Now that I’ve gotten closer to him... the feelings aren’t a simple crush anymore. I’ve been trying, and for some reason failing, to keep it on the downlow so that I don’t make things awkward...or worse, ruin what I have with Charlie.”

You sigh and grip your arms before leaning against the wall and continuing, “Today he’s been acting distant with me and I’m not sure what I did wrong.”

Owen stayed silent as you spoke and took time pondering on what he should exactly say. After all, this is a tough situation to be in. “I don’t think it’s you,” he muttered and decided to trail on, “I think he’s just being overworked. Plus he could’ve been worried about your scene looking realistic..like maybe you were genuinely mad.”

You took in his words for a second. He did have a point after all. “Also, to your feelings for him...I was shocked to hear because I assumed it wouldn’t stir up until months later. No offense but you seem to be an oblivious person and I kind of assumed you wouldn’t realize for a while.”

You chuckled and wacked his arm playfully and he laughed as a response. “I think if your feelings become too much, you should talk to someone...or him,” he advised.

“I usually just vent to Jer...and well, now you,” you confessed before finishing with, “If it gets bad I’ll consider talking to Charlie. Until then, this stays between us.”

So now two people knew. Now for Mads to find out. All it takes is for one thing to happen...a failed cast movie night. You had thought of the idea of having a movie night at your apartment with the cast as a way to have a break from set. This allowed for more group bonding without work being involved. You invited everyone, even Charlie. After all, things were fine now. It had been a few weeks since that filming day with Jeremy and at some point Charlie seemed to be alright again. You had originally chosen to drop it and it stayed that way. Now, an hour before the movie night was supposed to commence, your “movie night” group chat buzzed with notifications. Everyone had different excuses for the random bails and last minute decisions. You were disappointed to say the least but accepted the fate. You laid on the couch for a little bit before deciding to pack everything up. That was until you heard a honk come from outside. You saw the familiar vermillion Subaru and the driver’s side tinted window rolled down before a mess of brown waves shot out. The bubbly brunette had a huge smile on his face. That smile of his was contagious and before you knew it your face broke into a large smile as well. You laughed before closing the curtain and rushing to set everything back up.

Soon enough you heard a knock on your door and you hustled to go open the door for Charlie. You whipped the door open and offered the dork a smile before ushering him in. “You didn’t have to go out of your way to come here. Mainly since everyone else bailed.” You said.

He gave you an awkward smile and said, “Yeah...but I wanted to come,” scratching his hair and then finishing with, “Plus it means we can talk about the movie without anyone whining.”

You giggle at him and shake your head slightly. You made your way to the microwave and flopped your popcorn bag into it before pressing the few buttons and starting it. The buzzing sound of the microwave filled the air as you grabbed a drink from the fridge. “Hey,” you called to the brunette that had already made himself comfortable on your couch, “Is there anything specific you want to drink?”

He gave you an answer and you made sure to offer him the drink before getting the popped popcorn from the microwave. You flopped down next to him and grabbed your remote. “Okay so I’m vibing with Halloween movies right now,” You state.

He pops a few pieces of popcorn into his mouth and agrees with the genre. “How about Hocus Pocus?” He offers.

You shake your head no, “I already watched it recently.” He gave you a shocked but pleased look.

“How about….Ooo how about Halloween Town? I grew up with the movies.” You said excitedly. His smile was just as big as yours.

“I grew up watching them too!” He announced gleefully.

So now begins your hours long movie adventure with the two of you. Currently, you both had somehow managed a cuddle position, sadly deemed platonic, where you were lying along his chest and side. You could feel the thumping of his heartbeat as you rested your head in the crook of his shoulder. His breathing was relaxing and kept you from being able to focus on the movie in front of you. At some points within the movie you could feel his thumb tracing circles along your side or arm. Those moments were a lot harder to breathe during and you had a lot of mental battles to make sure you could catch your breath. The snacks were already picked through and your drinks were long forgotten as you appreciated his presence alongside you. His laugh throughout some scenes always seemed addicting to hear and you’d rather listen to that than the movie right now. He always had a smile on his face, especially right now. You both had a good laugh at the cheap SFX makeup and low quality CGI. The acting was always so cheesy but you both couldn’t help but adore the nostalgia. It was nice to have someone else admire a classic with you.

You had moments where you almost could feel his gaze along your features and it took a lot of mental strength to pretend you couldn’t feel the tingles. You were sure you were just imagining things but curiosity kept getting the better of you. So you made a quick glance up at his direction as the movie neared its end. There was a huge smile on your face from the movie moments prior to your realization. Now your eyes met those same intoxicating viridescent ones and the intimate moments began once more. You flashed him a smile before looking back at the movie before you.

At some point at the end you blurted, “You know, if this movie were re-filmed, you would be a much better love interest for the series.” To which he gives you a perplexed look before giving you a crooked grin.

“Why do you say that?” He questioned with a slanted brow.

“Well, because this wouldn’t be the first time you’d be a love interest to a witch,” you started before adding, “as well as you’re amazingly talented at acting as love interests and just acting in general.”

He broke out into a huge grin before excitedly responding, “To be honest, I’d love to star in a remake of a childhood film I enjoyed, so yeah, I wouldn’t mind. I think it’d be fun!”

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride to know he was just as excited at the concept but also because he agreed with you without judgement. However, you could never admit to him that you also would love to see him play one of the love interests Marnie had because you always put yourself in Marnie’s shoes.

Alas, the movie came to an end and he needed to head home for the night. Begrudgingly getting up from the couch, you both had scrambled to pick up the mess you made. After you both finished, you walked him towards the door and you guys bid each other goodbyes, making sure to ask for each other’s phone numbers in advance. You took a deep exhale once the front door shut. It felt like you had been holding in your breath for the evening. You made your way to the bathroom to do your nightly routine before eventually heading to bed. You stayed up most of the night imagining his eyes, the way his chest shifted up and down when breathing, the gentle beating of his heart in your ears, and the laugh that echoed along the walls of your apartment. These thoughts made you feel warm and whole before eventually falling into a deep sleep.

The next day was busy and filled with life as you had more scenes that needed to be filmed. A lot of the cast kept offering you smiles and seemed more chipper than normal towards you. It was eerie and you kept wondering what they knew that you didn't. You could be wrong but it just didn’t feel right. You kept wondering what everyone knew and was doing before bumping into someone. A mess of dark unruly hair flashed into your perspective and you connected the dots as to who it was. Before you could say anything, she beat you to the punch, "I heard from Charlie that you guys had a movie night together,” Madison stated, almost trying to hint at something more. You had a feeling this possibly correlated with what everyone else was wondering or knew. Great, now everyone was beginning to know of your tragic crush on your coworker.

“Oh yeah we did…” You respond with a smile and hope she’d drop it at that.

“Well? What happened? I want all the details!" Mads pressed cheekily.

You begin your woes with Charlie and how the night had played out. Expressing your admiration for the movie, the things you did together, and even the conversation you had about wanting him to play in a remake.

"The way you flirt is shameful," Madison joked.

“Huh,” You questioned. Her saying that confused you because you never said anything about flirting.

“Oh come on, it’s obvious dude,” Mads admitted while elbowing your side with a grin.

“I’m not sure what you mean, Mads,” You argued with a small smile and teasing stare.

“It’s so obvious that you like him! I just didn’t want to say anything because I thought you hadn’t realized yet.” Mads declared with a knowing smile.

It’s sad to say but she was entirely right. You were horrible from keeping your feelings hidden and her realization just proves that statement. Even so, you were getting a good laugh out of this. “Okay okay, yeah I do and yes it is,” you responded to her statements honestly.

“I knew it! I’m just waiting for the marriage proposal and babies now.” Mads responded with a mischievous grin and hearty chuckle.

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing from her honest and wide stretched ideas. You knew there was a lot of teasing coming your way from now on. You were excited to experience it though, she always offered a good laugh and had great advice. Madison was really developing as her own person and was really mature for her age. You admired that in her. It’s just a little sad that you had to get advice and even be called out by a young teen.

Weeks had passed since the whole cast and Mads situation occurred. Currently, you’ve been chatting with Charlie on the daily over the phone. Whether it be a call or simple text, you always had something to look forward to during the day. Hell, you’d get an occasional meme or tiktok sent your way. There were days when you’d even film some tiktok challenges with him for fun. You had a blast whenever he was around and the comment section of both of your accounts were constantly spammed about your guys’ chemistry. Most people were supportive of your friendship and others were quick to ship you guys. You couldn’t deny that you were flustered by the overwhelming support and fanbase sent your way. Charlie always seemed so excited to read or show you the comments that came strolling in after posting anything with you two.

There were multiple times where you’d make eye contact or your faces would be super close together. Your breath would hitch every time and it took a lot to manage your breathing to be normal. You swore up and down this man made you develop asthma. You couldn’t help it, that man took your breath away. The subtle brushes of his hand on your side or arms were never overlooked. Or the way he’d occasionally grasp your hand when directing you somewhere. You noticed all of these little things he did when he was with you. You tried to brush it off as normal but you couldn't help but hope. Mainly when there were a few romantic challenges that you’ve done together online.

The slowburn was killing you. It was near your last few weeks of filming now. You didn’t know what to expect or think anymore. He is openly intimate with anyone he cares about, so it's hard to differentiate platonic from romantic. That was, until he called you randomly on your day off asking something very important. “Hey,” you can hear a small awkward chuckle before he continues, “There's something I need to get off my chest. I’ve been waiting a while to say this...you are always the one at the back of my mind, and I was wondering if I could take you somewhere...like on a date?”

You were silent for a moment. You didn’t expect that type of question out of the blue; let alone from him. Finally you managed to muster up the courage to respond after a few moments of silence, “Uh yeah! Where would we be going and what time?”

“The first part of your question is a surprise, and 8 pm. Dress cute and comfy.” He announced with a cheerful but playful tone.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his cuteness from over the phone. “Okay, I’ll see you then,” You responded with a goofy tone before hanging up.

Now your anxiety was spiraling. You had to figure out what to wear that could fit any occasion since it's a surprise. You knew it wasn’t some fancy dinner. He was more of the spontaneous adventure type for dates, at least, that what you assumed. So instead, you go for a cute pair of jeans, a cute top and flannel, and a few accessories. You paced around your room while contemplating what would occur tonight. You had an hour before he was coming to pick you up and you were trying to buy yourself time. So, you settled for scrolling tiktok and your other social media feeds. All of your content was booming with new likes, follows, and comments. It put a huge smile on your face from all of the support you were receiving before you heard a knock on your front door.

Before you could even say anything, the brunette was already leaning against the doorway and said with the all knowing accent, “How you doin’?”

You couldn’t help but laugh while hurriedly grabbing your keys and saying, “Oh come on Charlie, that’s so cheesy. You used that as a pickup line, really?”

“Hey hey now, they’ll be plenty more before this is over. You might as well accept it,” he cheekily taunts.

While shaking your head and laughing, you make your way out the door and to his vehicle. You see him rush past you to be at the passenger side before you make it and he opens the door as you get closer. You smiled at the thoughtful action and decided not to mention it just yet. You adjusted yourself into the seat before buckling up and looking at the radio. “Hey, could I use the aux cord to play some music?” You ask quickly.

He looks over at you before nodding his head and handing you the cord. You plug it into your phone before shuffling through your playlists to pick a song. All the while Charlie is pulling out of the apartment complex parking zone. Soon you finally manage to pick a song and immediately click it. You adjusted the volume while waiting for the first tune to come out. Soon enough the song began. “Ba ba da da. Ba ba da da. Ba ba da da. Ba ba da da. Ba ba da da”

You were already goofily singing along and tapping the beat along the dashboard. Soon enough the singing began, “Take a look at my girlfriend. She's the only one I got (ba ba da da) Not much of a girlfriend; I never seem to get a lot (ba ba da da, ba ba da da). It's been some time since we last spoke. This is gonna sound like a bad joke, but momma I fell in love again. It's safe to say I have a new girlfriend.”

He was staring at you as he sang along to the lyrics; never breaking eye contact as the song continued. You wondered what it would be like to be called his girlfriend and introduced to his family. You’d never met them before but you hear amazing stories all the time from the bubbly brunette beside you.

“And I know it sounds so old, but cupid got me in a chokehold, and I'm afraid I might give in. Towels on the mat my white flag is wavin'. I mean she even cooks me pancakes and Alka Seltzer when my tummy aches. If that ain't love then I don't know what love is.”

You pondered what it would be like to have breakfast with him or to be around on his sick days. Those were vulnerable moments in a person’s life and it made you crave that even more.

“We even got a secret handshake”

You guys did have a ‘secret’ handshake. It originated sometime during a tiktok because you thought it would be a great filler moment for one of the videos.

“And she loves the music that my band makes”

You adored JATP and Sunset Curve. You listened to the first season’s Now or Never on repeat. You adored anything that had to do with his voice, honestly. Some of his covers on tiktok and Instagram were shamelessly saved. You’d go back and listen to them when you needed a “pick me up.”

“I know I'm young but if I had to choose her or the sun, I'd be one nocturnal son of a gun.”

It was true. If any moments with him meant losing time in the day, it was well worth it. Even so, you both were screaming along to these lyrics and had huge smiles the entire time. The chorus played out the speakers and along the walls of the car once more before continuing with, “It's been a while since we talked last and I'm tryin' hard not to talk fast, but dad I'm finally thinkin' I may have found the one. Type of girl that will make you way proud of your son.”

God, you crave the acceptance of his family. It was eating at you constantly. You weren’t even dating the guy yet and already worried for the day you had to prove yourself to the family that helped him become the man he is today. That’s a lot to handle for someone mentally, mainly if they don’t end up liking you. They’re his flesh and blood and you’d never want to come between that.

“And I know you heard the last song about the girls that didn't last long, but I promise this is on a whole new plane. I can tell by the way she says my name (ba ba da da)”

You pondered for a moment who he might have dated and his love life in general. After all, were you his normal type? Do you have an effect on him? You brushed away the thought as the next lyrics played, “I love it when she calls my phone. She even got her very own ringtone. If that ain't love then I don't know what love is (ba ba da da)”

You smiled at the thought of him possibly looking forward to your random calls about whatever you were thinking about at the moment. You were always excited to receive a call from him. You’d always hear the ringtone for him which was currently set to ‘Yellow’ by Coldplay. After all, he was your yellow. But you did wonder what yours might’ve been on his. Hell, knowing him he’d probably just left it to the generic tone or a funny one.

“It's gonna be a long drive home but I know as soon as I arrive home, and I open the door, take off my coat and throw my bag on the floor. She'll be back into my arms once more for sure.”

You wished for the day you were together and could experience that level of comfort. Hoping for the day you could come home from a tiring day at work and just bask in the comfort of your partner’s arms. You imagined it for a little while longer while the chorus continued once again. You couldn’t help but space out and daydream for a different time. You knew Charlie was probably looking at you like you were crazy for spacing out randomly but you couldn’t seem to break your thoughts away.

“She's got a smile that would make the most senile, annoying old man bite his tongue. I'm not done. She's got eyes comparable to sunrise and it doesn't stop there. Man, I swear, she's got porcelain skin of course she's a 10, and now she's even got her own song. But movin' on, she's got the cutest laugh I ever heard and we can be on the phone for three hours; not sayin' one word. And I would still cherish every moment, and when I start to build my future she's the main component. Call it dumb, call it luck, call it love, or whatever you call it but everywhere I go I keep her picture in my wallet like here.”

You were still in your own little thoughts while these lyrics played. Even when spaced out, you could still see the figure beside you absolutely jamming along to the lyrics like he meant every word. He was so expressive and happy as he sang along. He was in his element and you adored it. You slowly stopped spacing out and focused on the man beside you as he continued to sing along.

Charlie stopped at the red light, just as the last few moments of the chorus played along in the background. You were belting along again and acting out the lyrics in your own charming way. Your hair illuminated from the sun’s warm glare and your skin was shining in an almost ethereal-like way. Your body language screamed serenity and fluidity. He couldn’t help but be enraptured by your free spirit. His gaze was solely focused on you as you sang along, almost as if he was scared to look away for he’d miss a single moment of you. Both parties could feel the positivity and connection radiating off each other. As the song neared its end, you sat back breathless from your little show-stopping performance. You finally turned back to Charlie and you couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed by his expression. It was pure awe and it made you feel flustered. His stare was piercing and shined with adoration. His smile was wider than any other moment you’ve ever experienced with him.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” You asked with a bashful smile while brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

He chuckled before responding, “Can’t I just admire you for a second? I don’t see this often.”

You were confused by his statement at first, that was until you realized what his words truly meant. You had shown a part of yourself that others rarely see, the goofy and open side. Yes, you goofed around with friends and cast members but you still had your timid or closed-off self. However, this is the side of yourself that oozed confidence, and only he got to experience it at this moment. Which was something you’d both treasure from this moment forward. You’d thankfully managed to notice the light had turned green in the nick of time.

“C, the light is green!” You warned but had a huge smile on your face as you said so.

“I know,” he said teasingly while staring at you for a moment longer before driving once more.

You pulled up to the park where you could almost make out something in the distance. It appeared to be a few things laying out on the grass. One of those things being a square shape, probably a blanket. Putting two and two together, you realized it was a picnic date. Your heart swelled at the wholesome idea and admired him for the effort. You hadn’t even seen the entire setup and were already swooning. You look up at him and give him a lovesick smile before he quickly shuffled out of the door and ran to your side. He was a helpless romantic and believed chivalry wasn’t dead. So being the gentleman he was, he opened the door for you and offered you his hand so it would be easier to leave the Subaru. You giggle and say, “such a gentleman.”

He flashes you another smile before saying, “You deserve the world. I may not be able to offer much, but for you, I’ll do anything.”

Your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest at the response he gave you. It wasn’t something you were used to from him. It was endearing, to say the least. You both made your way to your picnic spot. A soft blanket and cute basket were laying out. There was even a bouquet of your favorite flowers and his guitar laying along the grass. All of your favorite snacks and drinks were inside the basket. You were giddy as you looked at everything before you. “This is so sweet, C.” you gushed.

“I wanted to prove to you that I take your heart seriously and that I care.” He seemed shy while he spoke but his eyes were open and honest. He meant every word.

“You have nothing to prove, that you haven’t already, Gillespie.” You teased while softly punching his arm.

He playfully hit back as he responded, “I know but I still wanted to.”

“Fair. Okay, what do you want to do?” You asked.

The poor guy blanked for a moment. He seemed at a loss at your question. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I didn’t think I’d get this far,” he admitted.

You laughed before asking, “Why’s that?”

He chuckled before his face switched to a more serious note, “I always thought of you as unobtainable. You were so interesting and motivated and open to others. I didn’t know if you saw me as anything more than a friend. It started as an attraction but soon I had gotten really close with you and it developed into more. By then I was scared that if I said something, I could lose you.”

You were frozen. You didn’t anticipate this type of response. After all, these are only things you’d experience in fanfiction. It made you feel special. If it wasn’t for the fact that you were in public, you’d probably cry. You’d been dying to hear his side and now you finally have.

“In all honesty, I felt the same way. That you were unattainable, that is.” You responded while looking down.

You kept peering down at the blanket before feeling his hand cup your cheek and tilting your head up. Your eyes met his own before the question left his lips, “And why’s that?” By now if any oxygen was entering your lungs, you damn well couldn’t feel it. His gaze was paralyzing and it took a few moments for you to break away from it. You shifted back a bit to give your heart the break it needed before finally speaking up, “Because. You are you. This lovable and goofy guy. You are adventurous and never take no for an answer. You push others to be their best. You never speak of romance and you always seemed more interested in popular celebrities.”

He chuckled at your response. “Hey! Don’t laugh at me, this is embarrassing to admit,” You whined. You tried to hide the small smile making its way onto your face.

“I’m not laughing at you. Just at the thought that we both thought the other wasn’t interested. I mean come on! Oh, and hey, never be embarrassed to be open with me. I say embarrassing things and do embarrassing things all the time.” He opened up.

“Okay, so what’s one thing you are embarrassed to admit?” You asked curiously. The question honestly intrigued you and his response even more so. Plus, it made it easier to avoid continuing the awkward things you said prior.

“I may have tipped everyone off to not come to your movie night months ago so I could finally have alone time with you,” He answered honestly. You were shocked by two things in that sentence; his boldness and that he had done something like that to gain your attention.

“If you wanted to spend time with me, all you had to do was ask!” you shrieked before pushing his shoulder playfully.

You both were laughing and enjoying the honesty. You never expected him to be the sneaky type and plan something like that. However, it did make a lot of sense looking back. Now it was time for him to ask something, and of course, he continued the intimate questionnaires. “Why did you choose to come with me tonight?” he asked curiously.

He seemed invested by your answer but you could tell by his body language that he was a little antsy. He was brushing his arms and shifting his legs a lot while he waited for you to answer. “I thought, well, for once in my life I should make a decision for myself that would be adventurous, put me out of my comfort zone, and just to let me be happy. I didn’t expect you to ever actually ask me out, but I’m glad you did.” You answered honestly.

He seemed bewildered by your response but still broke out into his heart-stopping grin. You really did know how to blow the man away every time you showed another side of yourself. The questions continued for what seemed like hours and it was now dark out. Even so, the conversation was just as lively and Charlie couldn’t help but stare at you. Your eyes were sparkling from the night’s ever glowing moon. He could only gaze at your face and appreciate your features; your lashes hiding the gleam in your eyes and the soft crinkles of your lids. A hearty chuckle belted out of those lips; the ones he so desperately wanted to kiss. As you continued to banter for the rest of the night, he could never manage to tear his eyes away from your face and he liked it that way.

As the conversation continued and got more intimate so did your closeness. Now, his lips are mere centimeters from you; feeling his breath ghost your lips...and all you could manage to describe this moment as is intoxicating. His eyes drifted longingly between your lips and eyes before you could just barely feel his lips lift into a smirk. Just then when all else felt like it had disappeared around you and the pale moonlight lit up your figures, he grasped your waist and the impossible became possible as his hand gripped you and pulled you into a kiss; one that ignited something inside of you, inside of himself. Others always described having the kiss from “the one” as fireworks but in reality, it felt different. Fireworks are quick and go out just as they start...this was something entirely more addicting. You’d describe this kiss as tingly, but not the type of tingles you feel when cold, instead, something that engulfs your entire body and you can’t help but feel weak to it. You fall prey to the feeling of warmth and lightheadedness it offers. All the while trying to manage to gasp for air while you can hear your heart beating in your ears. You were almost entirely sure he could probably feel your heart beating out of your chest. “Maybe sometimes slow burn is okay for the plot,” you thought to yourself while still locking lips with the Canadian actor. Was it simply luck that caused you to meet him that fateful day...or was it the universe giving you the answers you needed all your life? The answer is...your spark.

#charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie x reader #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #third person #jatp fic #coworkers #coworker au #madison reyes #owen joyner #jeremy shada #oneshot #one shot #romance #actor au

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berryjam17 · 3 years

Text

Remedy

Jin x f. reader [in smut scene. relatively g/n for the rest ( 'butterfly' could be considered a more feminine nickname)]

Synopsis: Life has left you scarred and unwilling to get too involved with anyone else.

Kim Seokjin is stubborn. Kind. Capable of soothing your wounded spirit.

Warnings: chronic illness, hints of IBD throughout for Y/N and Jungkook, one very in-your-face implication that Y/N has IBD in the beginning, internalized ableism, swearing, unprotected sex, little bit of dom!Jin / sub!Y/N, oral (F receiving), fingering (F receiving)

Word Count: 6k

repost, I had to fix some issues.

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The waiting room was hushed, with the tapping of keys from the receptionist’s desk as background noise. You glanced expectantly at the clock, disappointed when only two minutes had passed. It was 6:17 PM, and you doubted your roommate would arrive before 6:40. Lisa was a graduate teaching assistant at the local college. She’d left a message explaining that she had to print off a paper before she could drive your car back.

This late in the day, there was one other person waiting. You studied him, more out of boredom than anything else.

Black hair fell in waves to frame his forehead and eyes. He was dressed casually in a soft pink hoodie and jeans, his rings reflecting the overhead light as he skimmed through a magazine.

He abandoned it briefly, lifting his head to lock eyes with you. His lips twitched. A frown? A smile? You couldn’t tell.

He flipped the magazine around and held it up, so that you could see the pages he’d been on. It was a painting of a cherry tree in full bloom, with hints of a cerulean sky between the branches.

Beautiful.

The next spread was for Crohn’s and Colitis Awareness Month. His brow furrowed as he witnessed you retreat into your shell, looking anywhere but at him.

Realization dawned when he saw the contents. “I’m sorry. I didn’t-”

The door to the E.R. clicked open, interrupting him, and a younger man crossed the threshold. Magazine Man shot to his feet and hurried over to him. “How are you feeling, Kook?”

“Tired.” ‘Kook’ shrugged into the coat he was handed, almost trodding on the other man’s heels as they exited the waiting room.

Stupid. You slumped forward, squeezing your eyes shut and rubbing your forehead. Get a grip.

He sat a few seats away. You kept your head down, not eager to embarrass yourself further.

You’d heard his voice before, but for the first time, you realized how melodious it was. “I didn’t look before I turned the page that day. I’m sorry.”

You looked up. “I know. I’m sorry too, for how I acted.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He relaxed into the seat. “I’m Seokjin, by the way.”

“I was calling you Magazine Man in my head. Just so you know.”

He had a nice laugh. “There are worse names, I suppose. What’s yours?”

“Exhausted panda.”

“Panda? Is that your favorite animal?”

You blinked, taken aback at his interest. “Uh, no. That's not why. It’s for the dark circles under my eyes...it’s hard for me to get enough sleep.”

“...I see wings.” His voice was hesitant. Gentle.

You couldn’t understand why he’d been trying to boost your morale. “Oh...well. My actual name is Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.”

The next time you saw Seokjin, he was worried when he learned you didn’t have an immediate ride home. Lisa had left on an urgent errand for her mother, and you hadn’t driven in the first place. It was kind of impossible to do that when you were incapacitated by pain and nausea.

He offered to drop you off after he took his brother home.

You couldn’t reply right away. You had some idea of who he was. You knew his name, and that he loved his brother dearly. But you didn’t know him well enough to feel completely comfortable.

But pain had always been your strongest motivator. The easiest fix for the agony snaking along your guts was a heating pad at home.

And here Seokjin was, with the tempting words that made you imagine how sweet the relief would be.

You said yes.

Seokjin stopped next to you while you were browsing through the earrings at the local Walmart, almost giving you a heart attack before you recognized him.

He was with his brothers. You hadn’t known that there were others, besides Jungkook. But then again, you had only met in the hospital.

Thankfully, Jungkook appeared to be fine. But you knew all too well that didn't necessarily mean he felt that way. Still, his smile almost rivaled Seokjin’s.

Seokjin gave the jewelry a cursory scan before he snatched a pair left over from Christmas, stamped with Santa Claus’ image. “These would be perfect for you.”

You rolled your eyes, swatting his hand away. “More like for you.”

He didn't laugh. You were surprised to see him scrutinizing your features. “You’re feeling better.”

“Yeah.” You swallowed. He didn’t intend to, but his words reminded you of the fact that every meeting up to that point had happened with you rendered helpless in one way or another. You despised the idea that people thought of you as frail, vulnerable...weak.

Especially Seokjin.

But it was undeniable. You were weaker than the average person. Good days where you could cope had been reduced, and there weren't many days at all that you didn’t feel some symptom.

Seokjin had a window to Jungkook’s experiences. But even then, there was a disconnect between them. What then, did you hope that he could do for you, that you couldn’t do for yourself?

“I found something for you.” He took your hand in his. Cool metal pressed into your skin.

You uncurled your fingers to see midnight blue stones glinting up at you, set as the leaves of an earring climber. “It’s beautiful.”

He sent you a wink. “Of course it is. What would you choose for me, Y/N?”

They stood out almost immediately. You retrieved the pair of silver chain drop earrings and deposited it in his hand. They were rather plain, save for the metal stars at the ends of both.

He rolled the fine metal links across his thumb.

You hadn’t spoken, but his head lifted. He refused to look away from your eyes. His own had softened, resulting in the tension rippling across your shoulders. You didn't like it when people looked at you like that.

Seokjin had never seen one of your days, only glimpses. He had no idea of what you endured.

He had no right to meet your gaze with that familiarity.

“Butterfly.” His voice was hushed, stopping you in your tracks.

“‘Butterfly’...?”

“Can I call you that?”

“I didn’t think we were on a nickname basis. If we were friends, I’d allow it.”

“Friends…” he mused. “That’s fair.”

The image of rain, threatening to break through a wall of clouds, rolled across your mind.

He didn’t relent, daring to reach out. He folded your fingers around the piece of paper. “If you need a ride. Or if you want to talk.”

“Do you just carry your number around?”

He glanced downwards. “I wrote it after I saw you here.”

You nodded stiffly. You couldn’t see yourself turning to him for further help, but you weren’t about to tell him that. Besides, there was no harm in keeping the paper, just for a while.

-----

He had lovely handwriting. You left his note on your desk after entering his contact, though you debated for several weeks on what to text.

If you decided to text at all.

Red lights cutting through the midnight darkness and echoes of his voice in the enclosed space lingered. The memory of his presence paired with the absence of pain.

You were unable to forget that you owed him, and you wouldn’t be able to let the memory fade until you’d done something in return.

He replied with an invitation to a homemade dinner. It didn’t make sense. Honestly, it was frustrating. You just wanted to pay him back and be done with it.

But again, he insisted. The little voice in your head whispered that it’d be easier to explain yourself in person, rather than over text.

While Seokjin had dug in right away, you set your fork down. “I have to be clear about this. I said yes because I owe you for the ride home before. There’s no other reason.”

He gazed at you from across the table. “I did that because I wanted to. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Seokjin, please.”

He sighed. “That’s what friends do. Can we be friends, Y/N? Not...whatever this is?”

You traced the rim of your glass, collecting condensation on your fingertip. “...I guess we can try.”

“Thank you.”

You glanced at him. His gentle smile and warm brown eyes caused an ache to bloom in your chest. Feeling your body temperature spike, you broke eye contact with him.

The clock on the wall read 6:32. The muted ticking of its hands and the clinking of silverware were the only noises in the room.

For a house with six other occupants, especially in the evening, you would’ve expected to overhear conversations and movement. “Where are your brothers?”

“Jungkook went to watch a movie with Jimin and Tae. Yoongi’s at his studio. Namjoon and Hoseok went back to campus to study.”

“Does that happen often? You getting the house to yourself?”

He smiled. “I may have...provided incentive to the youngest ones.”

You stumbled upon a new author and earned a couple more pieces of literature to proofread. Since you hadn’t gone to college, you were grateful each time you found a new client.

When Seokjin refused monetary payment, you came up with a plan B.

While you couldn't be exactly sure of what Jungkook’s trigger foods were, you were reasonably sure that they included the worst ones for you. Red sauce (and everything that entailed) was pure evil on the most basic list of what foods to avoid. You had no clue what his other brothers liked, so you packed a variety of food.

He answered on the second ring. “Y/N?”

“Hey, you’re at home, right? Is everyone else there too?”

“Just a sec. ...Yoongi’s on the way. Everyone’s here beside him. Why?”

“I bought food, so we can all have dinner together.”

“Alright. You’re at home?”

“Yeah.”

“Wait there. I’ll come get you.”

“I can drive, Seokjin. But thank you.”

“See you soon, butterfly. Drive safely.”

Seokjin swung the door open. Surprise flickered across his expression. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You lifted the basket, as if he hadn’t already seen it. “I brought food.” As if you hadn’t told him that earlier. You cringed, wondering why his compliment had thrown you off so badly.

If you were trying to distract him, it hadn’t worked. His thumb grazed your earlobe and the jewelry adorning it. “It matches you.”

Seokjin’s presence in your life was like the moon. You’d walked for so long through the night that at first, even his light had been blinding. But it hadn’t taken too long to become accustomed to his honest, kind nature.

A few months went by. Though Seokjin hadn’t exactly hesitated to talk to you before, sending you cute animal pictures or memes, he became thoughtful when you saw him in person.

“I feel like you’re hiding something from me.” You sat across the table from him. His brothers had already finished eating and scattered throughout the house and yard. You’d declined his invitation for food, but accepted for the company.

He finished chewing, his hand over his mouth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh yeah?” You looked - very deliberately - at his ears.

He bolted out of his seat. “Hey!”

You waited a long moment before rising. His hands pressed into your shoulders, holding you firmly in place. “Y/N, don’t turn around and I’ll talk.”

“Okay.”

“You’re special to me.”

“Special...in what way?”

“As my friend. As someone I like.” He claimed the chair next to you.

“Oh..”

“Can we give it a try? It doesn’t need to be official. I just want to know you better.”

“Seokjin, I haven’t been in a relationship for a long time. I’m not...suited for one.”

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine. But why do you think you’re not suitable?”

You drew patterns on the table. “Um, I’ve just never wanted another person there…”

His hand settled over yours. He squeezed your fingers. “Sure. But why, Y/N?”

Your throat grew tight. You choked out, “I didn’t want to be a burden.”

He drew you to him, tucking your head against his shoulder. You blinked tears away.

“You’ve had to be strong for so long.” He murmured, melancholy infusing his tone. “You’re not alone anymore, butterfly.”

------

It took a few hours to surface from the dark ocean.

You were in Seokjin’s room, watching him explore Hyrule. He had a Nintendo Switch hooked up to his TV, with a Breath of the Wild cartridge inserted. “Seokjin?”

“Hmm?” He frowned as he furiously mashed buttons. “Just a minute.” On the screen, Link was fighting a masked man in red. The enemy teleported around the battlefield, annoying Seokjin. “Stand still and let me kill you!”

He breathed a sigh of relief when his attacks connected. You kept an eye on the enemy’s HP bar, cheering inwardly each time it went down. After vanquishing the masked enemy, he set the Switch on his bedside table and turned his attention to you. “What is it, Y/N?”

“I’m ready to talk about why I’ve been afraid of relationships.”

He inclined his head, a silent ‘continue.’

“The fear of being a burden is constantly in the back of my mind, because of my health. I always thought...why would someone choose that? Why choose me, when so much of my life is this disease?”

“Because you’re a lovely person.”

“There are so many lovely people out there who are actually healthy.”

“But they’re not you.”

“I’m not any other person either, does that make them any less valuable?”

“No, of course not. That’s not-” He groaned. “Y/N, you’re making this impossible. Everyone is special. But you are in my life, and you’re important to me. I don’t give a damn about your health.”

You wanted to believe it.

If it had been anyone else, you wouldn’t have. Even so, doubts haunted you.

Seokjin was a good person to the core. You’d seen that when he took care of Jungkook, in his cooking for his brothers, and how he’d bolstered your spirits when it was all too much.

You could trust him.

But you didn’t want to drag him down. He deserved better.

He took your hand, thawing the ice in your bloodstream. “Look at me.”

You did. He intertwined his fingers with yours, his rings warm against your skin. “I know my own mind. And I like you. Your health doesn’t scare me.”

“It’s easy to say that.”

“If we were in a relationship, I could prove it. Remember Jungkook, too. I’ve seen his side of it.”

“..Okay. I’ll do my best.”

He chuckled softly. “You don’t need to do that. Butterfly, just be yourself.”

-----

Euphoria was unfamiliar. You poked at the dreamlike haze, searching for shadows. You relaxed when the sunlight faded. A full day had passed, and it hadn’t been a fantasy.

Grains of sand shifted under your shoes. Waves rolled against the shore, and he was at your side. “Jin, why did you start talking to me? In the hospital, I mean.”

“You looked sad. And I thought...maybe you could help Jungkook. He struggles with it a lot. If anyone can help, it’d be you, right?”

Moonlight spilled a silver path across the water. “I don’t know that I’d be able to help another person when I’m not in the best mindset. He should talk to a professional, I think.”

Jin parked next to the curb. You unbuckled the seat belt when he spoke, rushing through his words. “Y/N, there's something...I have to be honest. I didn’t ask you out purely for my sake. The next relationship I had, I wanted to meet someone similar to Jungkook.”

The euphoric bubble disintegrated. “What?”

“I’m sorry. But please believe me, I care about you.”

“Me or my disease?”

His face was veiled in shadow. “Y/N, it’s you.”

“I need time to think, Jin. You were using that part of me...and I just..”

---

His confession was a new experience. You’d struggled with self-esteem for years, only exacerbated by the crushing diagnosis. To fight with a resistant body and know that you would never, ever be freed from that for as long as you lived...it was hard.

There was always the hope of remission. But the risk of a flare-up was there too, in every period of peace.

Seokjin had deliberately sought you out because of your burden.

You knew that his intention was admirable and came from love for his brother. But the thought that not all of your interactions had been for the sake of, well, interacting...hurt.

A lot.

Were you not enough?

-------

Jungkook called after a few days, asking to talk in person. You agreed after he promised everyone else would be out of the house.

“How are you feeling?” You asked, looking him over. He didn’t appear pale, tired, or otherwise sick. What you were really concerned about were the possible symptoms you couldn't see.

“I’m okay. I managed to finish a painting.” His lopsided smile vanished. “I heard what happened.”

“Yeah...I assume you’re going to explain.”

“I’d like to. But I won’t if you don’t want to hear it.”

You couldn’t say no to his earnest request. “I’m listening.”

“He didn’t mean it like that. His exes were nice enough people, but they couldn’t understand how protective Jin-hyung and everyone else was of me. They wanted more from him than he was willing to give. He was just hoping that someone like me would be more sympathetic.”

You nodded slowly. “I can see that.”

Light glimmered in his eyes. “Can I pass on a message?”

“It’s alright, I’ll call him later. Jungkook, your brother said he was worried about you. Can I help you at all?”

He blinked at you, confusion clouding his face. “Help me..? On what?”

“Your health. If I can help, I mean. I only have my life to go off of, but I’ve been talking through it with a therapist.”

“Oh. Um...I want to ask you some questions.”

----

You dialed his number with shaking fingers.

“Y/N?” The concern in his voice made tears spring to your eyes.

“..yeah. It’s me. Um, listen, Jin. I talked to Jungkook earlier...and I thought a lot.” You opened the door, stepping onto the deck. When you tilted your head back, you could see the stars.

“Are you okay?”

“I will be. I just..needed to ask you something. It was real, right?”

“Yes, butterfly. I wouldn’t have gone this far if I didn’t care about you.”

“Okay.” You wiped at your eyes. “I still love you, Jin. Can we start over?”

“I’d like that.”

Your heart warmed when he blew you a kiss over the phone.

“Get some sleep, Y/N. I’ll text you tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Good night, Jin.”

“What do you want to do in the future, Jin?”

“I’m supposed to take over the family business. After all, I got a degree for it.”

“Do you want that?” You asked, hearing wistfulness and regret entwined in his voice.

“I...no, not exactly. But I’m the eldest.” He nudged his plate of fried chicken.

“That doesn’t matter. What do you want to do, Jin?”

He dragged his plate closer to him, avoiding eye contact.

“You’re so good to everyone. What about yourself?”

“I’d like to work in a hospital...not a doctor, but maybe a nurse? I want to help people.”

“You can do that and still be there for your family.”

Although he didn’t look completely convinced, he resumed eating. You were glad for that, at least.

Lisa wasn’t home when Jin pulled in, so he parked behind your car. He caught a glimpse of a bike, sheltered safely under the deck. “Is that yours?”

You followed his finger. “Yeah. It’s been a while, though.”

“Why? The weather's nice.”

Resignation dyed your tone a muted gray. “I can’t walk up a flight of stairs without getting tired most of the time. I don’t have the stamina for biking.”

He was holding an extra helmet and standing next to a light blue bike. Your heart leaped when you noticed it was a two-seater bicycle.

Jin clasped the strap under your chin. He sat in front and kicked off.

You didn’t look at the scenery very much.

Jin was still seated when you clambered off his bike and removed your helmet. You attempted to do the same to his, but nervousness hampered your movements. He reached up and unclasped the strap. Carefully lifting his helmet, you set it on the ground.

You could swear he had a halo. He was cast in an azure glow.

Of course, you knew it was all in your mind. He couldn’t claim to be of angelic status any more than he could emit light. Physically, anyway.

You cradled his face in your hands and kissed him. “I want to spend more time with you today, doing something you like.”

His eyes lit up. He wheeled the bike back to his car. “How about playing some games?”

You laughed. “You bet.”

Jin was a master at Mario Kart. You tried to keep up with him (and Jungkook, who’d entered the living room before Jin started the game.)

But it was over for you when you looked over at Jin. It was too easy to get lost in his shining eyes and victorious laughter when he edged ahead in the race.

At the end of the round, you leaned against his shoulder. “‘M tired.”

He paused the game and plucked a pillow from the couch. “Lay down. I like to think I'm more comfy than the floor.”

You hugged the pillow to your chest, laying your head on his lap. You craned your neck to look up at him, smirking at the adorable tinge of red on his face and ears. The satisfaction transformed into a softer, rosy-hued emotion as you admired the intensity in his eyes.

Beautiful. He was in his element, playing a game he loved.

Your eyes fluttered shut. Even the grumbles of frustration when his cart fell behind didn’t tug you farther away from the realm of slumber.

The living room was gone, replaced by the dining room. Jin was standing in front of you. You were holding several forget-me-not flowers out to him. In his hands, the blue darkened to purple before fading into pink.

“What flower is that?”

He tucked it behind your ear. “It's saxifrage, butterfly.”

The stem was poking your cheek. You swiped at the sensation. It didn’t depart - if anything, the prodding intensified.

You blinked to see Jin, his index finger hovering above your face. Jungkook was splayed out on the couch behind him, fast asleep.

He broke into a grin. “You were out for an hour, sleepyhead.”

You stretched. “Well, I guess it’s time to go then.”

“Actually…” he pursed his lips. “If you want to, we could have dinner. I don’t really have time to make anything, but we could do takeout.”

You poked his cheek in retaliation, then swiped your thumb across his lips. They parted under your touch. “I’d love that.”

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

Lisa landed a job as a journalist and moved out of the apartment.

Jin responded to the news with apprehension. “I don’t want you to be alone. You could try living with us.”

“That’s...I still have five months left on the lease. Besides, I can’t live with seven people, Jin, even if they’re your family. I need a separate bathroom.”

“Oh. Right.” He sighed over the phone.

“Did you hear back from the college yet?”

“Not yet. But I think I’ll be accepted...at least, I hope so.”

“They’d be crazy not to. You already have a good record with them.”

You could tell he was smiling. “Thanks, butterfly.”

“How’s Jungkook doing right now?”

Relief saturated his voice. “He got a good report from his doctor. They said he’s in remission.”

“That’s great! Tell him I said ‘Good job! Don’t overdo it.’”

He chuckled. “I will.”

The door to Jin’s house opened before you could even knock. He leaned against the doorframe, with his forearm bearing most of his weight and his ankles crossed.

And his outfit...You raised an eyebrow. He was stunning, but you didn’t understand why he’d donned a fitted black suit when you were just coming over to hang out. At least, you’d thought it was a casual invitation. Then again, he had mentioned that he’d kicked his brothers out for a few hours.

His ears were turning a condemning shade of red the longer you stared at him.

“Jin…? Did you have ulterior motives, perhaps?”

“...Maybe a few..?”

You took a step closer. “I don’t mind them, Jin. Not from you, not like this.”

“Oh…” A small tremor ran through him as you grasped his tie.

“Although you didn’t need to dress up. If you could see yourself...well, besides through a mirror. You’re breathtaking, Jin.”

“Ah...okay.” Jin looked down at himself, a seed of doubt flickering in his expression. As if you could possibly be talking about anyone else.

You laughed softly. “Come here, you ridiculous man.” Tugging on his tie, you connected lips. His tongue swiped along your bottom lip, asking for entrance that you eagerly granted.

Jin’s hands settled on the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. He lifted you into the air as you flung your arms around his neck. Your legs wrapped around his middle before he supported your thighs.

You nibbled on his pierced earlobe, blowing a soft breath out and watching the silver drop earring sway. His grip tightened on you.

“Jin?”

“Yeah?”

Glimmers of moonlight reflected in his eyes.

You have the most beautiful heart.

How was I lucky enough to have these moments with you?

“I’m really happy we met, you know.” As he entered his room, you nudged the door shut with your foot.

“Me too.” Everything about Jin seemed impossibly tender. His voice, his eyes, his smile. He lowered you onto the bed with the same amount of care.

You shimmied out of your jeans, using his shoulder for balance. Your shirt landed on the floor next as you knelt. You undid his belt and started sliding his dress pants down his toned thighs, palming his bulge as you went. Above you, Jin let out a quiet groan, his fingers momentarily frozen in their descent of his shirt buttons.

Heat pooled in your core as he took time to fold his clothes and hang them over the back of a chair. He was playing with you now, you were sure. There was no way he didn’t know how much you yearned for his touch.

When he was within reach, you tangled a hand in his hair and slotted your mouth against his.

His hands slid up your bare back, lingering at the bra band. The fabric pressed into your skin before falling.

Jin pulled away. The lunar glow of his irises had been swallowed by a starless night. “I want to see all of you.”

A shiver raced down your spine. Breathless, you let the garment drop to the floor, followed by your underwear.

“Sit back properly, Y/N.”

You didn’t look away from him as you scooted backwards, into a nest of pillows. He sank to his knees. “Can I go down on you, butterfly?”

Butterfly.

You trembled at that, how he could call you so innocently, yet resemble nothing but temptation. His pupils were blown out in lust, his honey skin gleaming with a light sheen of sweat, and his lips swollen with your kisses.

“Yes.” You managed. “But you still have boxers on.”

He smiled at that. “I’m taking care of you right now. Lay back and relax.”

A yelp escaped when he gripped your thighs, lifting your lower body in order to place a pillow there. He propped himself up on his elbows.

Jin’s hair was silky, brushing against your skin as he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh. His thumb glided along your folds, paying attention to your clit. His tongue circled the bundle of nerves, switching between broad swipes and targeted licks.

Your body jolted when he inserted a finger past your entrance, curling it inside you. He lapped up the juices, his gaze flicking to yours.

A fresh wave of arousal hit you.

The casual way Jin had held you captive with just a look...he’d taken root in your life, to the point that you’d suffer without him. You’d recover, eventually.

You always did.

But not at full health. Your body couldn’t even remember what that was like, and your mind struggled to process the distance between who you were ‘before,’ and who you were ‘after.’

“Butterfly?” Jin called you back. He’d sat up.

You blinked. “Yeah?”

“You looked...sad.”

You rested your forehead against his. “It’s not much. I’m just grateful to have you in my life.”

His hands cupped your face. Searching your eyes, he asked, “Do you still want to continue?”

He saw the confirmation as you spoke, “Yes.”

Jin removed his boxers, tossing them on the floor. He positioned his cock at your folds and eased into you, watching your reactions. You bit your lip at the beginning of each movement, and let out a little sigh as pleasure overwhelmed any fading discomfort.

When he bottomed out, Jin touched your cheek. “Can I move, baby?” At your nod, he rolled his hips, delivering controlled, powerful strokes.

“Perfect for me.” He rasped. “My beautiful butterfly.” Jin intertwined his fingers with yours, gazing down at you. Locks of hair curled against his forehead, his earrings catching light with every thrust.

You dragged your nails across his back. His shoulders were incredibly broad, tapering to his more delicate waist. Despite all the power he possessed, he was one of the most gentle people you knew.

He bent his head. You felt a slight sting above your collarbone, but he soothed the love bite with his tongue. He latched onto a breast, teasing the sensitive bud and stoking the fire in your core. It raced along your nerves, leaving them alight and craving more.

Perhaps Jin was the best (non-medicinal) cure for you.

You traced his jaw, lightly hooking a finger under his chin and urging him further over you. You nosed at the hollow of his throat, and a moan tumbled from his lips. When you nipped at his skin and laved the mark, his hips stuttered.

“Y/N,” his voice had deepened, “I don’t wanna hold back anymore.”

You looked into his eyes. “Then don’t.”

“On your knees.” Ji-...Seokjin growled.

You scrambled to obey. His palms pressed into your shoulder blades, guiding your hands flat against the bed. You melted inside at the dual caress on either side of your spine, and swallowed a whimper when his hands became rough, kneading your ass.

“Let me hear your pretty voice.” He sank into your warmth.

Seokjin set a brutal pace, pounding into you. His panting, the slap of skin against skin, and your ragged breathing intermingled. You were hurtling towards the edge of release, but a wave of bone-deep weariness was licking at your heels.

His rhythm slowed. You had time to wonder if Seokjin or Jin was in charge, before his hand pushed your legs apart. He rubbed circles on your clit, varying the pressure of his touch.

You were falling apart under Seokjin’s skilled fingers, but the oncoming orgasm sapped your strength. Your arms shook, threatening to give out. Unable to fight the fatigue creeping in around your joints and limbs any longer, you gasped, “I can’t..Jin, I’m exhausted.”

He pulled out. In equal, warring measure, your body ached for rest and to have him inside you again.

You curled into a ball, listening to his steps fade. He was back within a minute, his touch and voice soft when he placed a hand on your shoulder. “Y/N?”

You made a muffled noise, hidden by the pillow. His weight sank into the bed. You lifted your head reluctantly when he stayed silent. “Jin...I'm so sorry.”

He shook his head. “You did your best, baby.”

Your lip quivered as you cast your gaze down. “-...do better for you.”

“I know.” He started to dab at your neck with a damp cloth. “You’re more important, Y/N. There are other ways to get off.”

You sat up slowly. Jin’s hand moved to your shoulder.

A strangled noise left your throat when you glanced downwards. You should’ve known, since he hadn’t climaxed earlier.

Actually seeing his erection made it sink in.

“How can I help you?”

“You don’t need to do anything.”

You were begging now, tears welling in your eyes. “Jin, baby, please. Let me help you.”

He wrenched his gaze away from your pleading, heartsick expression. “I’m sorry.”

You threw the duvet over your head, but it didn’t dampen the sound of running water in the next room.

He was taking a shower.

The tears overflowed.

You wanted to be his equal. He’d focused so much on your own pleasure, forgoing his own.

The shower stopped not long after. You burrowed closer to the wall, bunching the duvet in your fists to hold it down.

His steady footsteps halted at the edge of the bed. “Can you let me in, butterfly?”

Your resolve wavered, and you released the fabric. Cool air brushed against your back as you heard him get into bed. The duvet fell again, covering you up to the shoulder.

Jin embraced you from behind. His palm radiated warmth against your stomach, and he hooked his leg over yours.

You tried to wriggle out of his arms. “How can you want to touch me now?”

His voice was unsteady. “Because you’re my miracle, Y/N.”

“But I didn’t...you wouldn’t….I didn’t help you.”

“I didn’t want you to because you’re exhausted, butterfly. When you feel up to it, you can.”

You clamped a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle your sobs.

“Shh, baby. It’s okay.” Jin whispered into your ear. He didn’t loosen his hold, and you placed your other hand on his forearm.

Not to push him away, but to reassure him you understood. That you were grateful...for everything. And that you’d try your hardest to have him finish with you.

He listened to your breathing even out and felt your body go lax as sleep claimed you. A small twinge of regret flashed through him when he remembered the letter he’d received.

He’d tell you later, he decided. You needed rest, not excitement (even if you had been awake.)

----

“This is amazing, Jin!” You were beaming by the time you reached the end of his letter. “When does the program start?”

“September 5th.” He was smiling too, his dream glowing in his eyes.

Pride fluttered in your chest. “You’ll be great, baby. Wait-” A slight frown marred your forehead. “Is that why you had a suit on before? To celebrate?”

“Well...yes. It was the first reason, anyway.”

You covered your face with your hands. “Oh god. I just assumed...fuck. I’m sorry, Jin.”

He almost laughed, but guessed that would not have been the kindest reaction. “No, there was that too. I posed in the doorway like that to seduce you.”

You snorted, but it was betrayed by the warm curve of your lips. “Of course.”

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

His reason for wanting to be a nurse was simple. Two of the most important people in his life depended heavily on the hospital and its staff. He knew how important it was to have well-functioning hospitals, not just for you and Jungkook, but for everyone.

You were just happy to see him working towards his dream. You had no doubt that he'd be able to play a part in other people’s lives.

Jin had a healing presence, after all.

#jin x reader #seokjin x reader #bts seokjin x reader #seokjin smut #bts jin #jin angst #jin fluff #seokjin angst #seokjin fluff

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somerandomdutchfangirl · 3 years

Text

Hetalia Family Week - Day 1: Hobbies

This is my entry for @hetafamilyweek day 1 - hobbies (and hugs)

Summary: They didn't have time for family hangouts often, with them being nations and all that, but whenever they did, it was safe to say it was the most fun any of them would have that week.

Sometimes, they would just go for a coffee or lunch or have a picnic. Other times, they would binge-watch a series while cuddling on the couch. And then, there were times like this.

This has also been posted to my a03!

Disclaimer: the opinions of the characters aren’t necessarily the authors opinion. Also, some of the sentences have been translated with Google Translate. If there is any mistake, please let me know and I'll fix as soon as possible! The translations are at the end.

Names used:

Willem = Netherlands

Femke = Belgium

Laurent = Luxembourg

Antonio = Spain

Matthew = Canada

Abel = Holland, @starflight-blog oc

Sjoerd = Friesland, @starflight-blog oc

Lieke = Groningen, @starflight-blog oc

Relevant headcanons time!

- Femke owns a cat named Mika

- Matthew and Willem are married (see end notes for more info)

- Matthew uses he/they pronouns

:readmore:

They didn't have time for family hangouts often, with them being nations and all that, but whenever they did, it was safe to say it was the most fun any of them would have that week.

Sometimes, they would just go for a coffee or lunch or have a picnic. Other times, they would binge-watch a series while cuddling on the couch. And then, there were times like this.

"Can't you two sit still for like five minutes? If you want this painting to actually look good, you're gonna have to let me actually have time to paint you!"

"What if we want it to look like Picasso?"

"Laurent, hoepel een eind op, Picasso sucks and so do his paintings."

"Don't let Antonio hear you say that."

"Antonio can go fuck himself."

"Guys, let's keep this fun, alright? I want to enjoy this day," Femke chimed in. Willem huffed but didn't complain further. Laurent grinned and continued composing a piece for the harp standing next to him.

(When Laurent had led them towards his "inspiration room" as he liked to call it, which was just a room filled with instruments, art supplies and more, both siblings had been filled with dread at the thought of Laurent playing the tuba, or god forbid, the trombone. Willem had said: "Laurent, I swear to god, if you're going to play the tuba or the trombone, I'm going to throw both you and the instrument out of the nearest window." To which Laurent had been a smartass and replied, "Can you even lift all that weight though?" That had ended up in a chase through the house that ended when Femke tackle-hugged both.)

The comfortable silence continued for a while, broken only by the occasional sigh from one of the siblings or Laurent trying the piece on the harp.

"Hey, Fem," Laurent walked up to her while he was taking a quick break, "What're you making?"

"Well, I'm trying to embroider our pets, but this stitch just won't work, godverdomme-"

"Maybe you should take a break and come back to it later? It's getting late anyway, we should eat dinner soon," Laurent suggested. Femke nodded. When no conformation came from Willem, they turned to him.

"Hey, earth to Willem! Did you hear what we just said?" Laurent asked, walking up to him and quickly stopping next to him. "Nondikass!" He exclaimed. "Willem, that looks amazing! How'd you do that in such a short time?!"

Femke, now curious, walked up to her brothers and peeked over their shoulders. "What the fuck, Willem," she gaped at the painting in front of her. It was clearly her and Laurent doing their respective hobbies, with beautiful lighting and background. The vibrant colours of the front of the painting was a stark contrast to the background, which had much softer tones. "You told us you were rusty! What part of this is rusty?!"

Willem, who was now looking more like a tomato, opened his mouth, no doubt to point out all the things that were wrong with it, but Laurent cut him off. "Nope, Mr. Perfectionist, you're not pointing out all the imperfections of this, and that's final. This is a masterpiece, seriously. Don't give me that look!"

"You know," Femke mused, "I might actually hang this in my house once it's dry."

"Guys," Willem said, flustered, "It's not that good. Really. Thanks for the compliments, but-"

"No buts!" Femke exclaimed at the same time Laurent yelled: "Not that good?!"

"Yeah, it's... the colour's off, the perspective is weird, and-"

"I am this close to actually strangling you with your scarf, Willem," Femke cut him off, her hands on her hips. "So what if it isn't perfect? That doesn't make it look any less amazing! I'll tell you what, we're gonna take a break, then we're going to come back here, and you'll see how amazing this actually looks."

Willem looked at her for a few seconds before sighing. "Fine..."

"Now don't go around brooding like that, it's no fun," Laurent said while shooting Femke a quick thumbs-up. Femke grinned.

"Now, come on! I'll make waffles!"

---

"Hey, Matthew replied!" Laurent exclaimed, effectively cutting off Willems' story on the antics of Abel and Sjoerd.

(Apparently, they had gotten into a fight over who had the most creative curse words. This had ended in Abel singing along to the curse word song in Dutch, until Lieke walked in. Sjoerd had promptly slapped a hand over Abel's mouth to stop him from ‘tainting Lieke's innocence’. It was weird.)

"What do you mean?" Willem asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, dearest brother of mine," Laurent replied with a shit-eating grin, which did absolutely nothing to ease Willem's worries. "Because you didn't seem too convinced by us literally shouting how amazing your painting was, we decided to send a picture to Matthew-"

"You what?!"

"-to see what he thinks of it," Laurent continued, unfazed. "Since, you know, you seem to care a lot about what they think, about as much as you care about what we think? I mean I would hope so, considering we're your siblings, but-"

"You're getting off track, Laurent," Femke cut him off. "Anyway, we figured that if anyone other than us would manage to convince you that your painting is amazing, it's gonna be Matthew."

"I-"

"Don't even try to deny it. We went to your wedding, remember? We know how much you care about him. Which is a good thing, by the way. So, Laurent, what did they say?"

"Well, there's an all-caps keysmash, followed by an all-caps 'what?!'. Scratch that, basically everything is in caps. So, the general train of thought is 'what the fuck, this is beautiful, how the fuck did he do this, he calls this rusty?!' And finally, 'I love it 10/10 would hang in my living room and/or show off to my family and friends. It's beautiful and I'll physically fight him on that.'"

"Awww, that's so sweet! See, Willy, your painting truly is amazing!" Femke, sporting a somehow genuine but shit-eating grin, patted her brother on the back. Said brother had his head in his hands and may or may not be crying.

"I hate you two," came the muffled reply with no real heat behind it. Femke and Laurens laughed.

"We love you too, you softie! Now come on, who's ready to spend more time together!" Femke cheered, already halfway across the room.

---

"Jezus Christus, Femke, that looks amazing!" Willem said, looking at the embroidery his sister had made. It pictured their pets, Pelutze, Mika, and Nijntje.

"Aww, thanks Willem!"

"Wait, let me see- wow, sis, this is really good! I love it!"

"Thank you, Lau! By the way, is your composition nearly finished? I want to hear it!"

"Me too, actually."

"Well, it's not done yet, but I can play what I have so far?"

"Yes please!" Femke smiled.

Laurent sat down and started playing the piece of music he had written on the harp. Moving his fingers delicately along the strings, the beautiful melody carried along the room. Once he was done, he looked up.

"So... what did you think- Femke are you okay?!"

"Yeah, sorry, it's just... it's so beautiful!" Femke cried, flinging herself at Laurent and crushing him in a hug.

"I agree with Femke, it was wonderful," Willem chimed in, walking over to his siblings. Femke quickly included him in the hug.

"You two are so talented, what the hell!"

"Fem, you're crushing me," Laurent gasped. "And don't you dare exclude yourself, have you seen what you just made?!"

"Yeah, but-"

"No buts, remember," Willem said, parroting her words back to her with a smirk.

"Why are you like this?"

Willem laughed at this. "You still love me despite it, though!"

"That's not an answer!"

"Is it not?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Guys, please stop. This is a stupid argument," Laurent rolled his eyes.

"Rolling your eyes at us? How rude, Lau," Willem said, locking him in a headlock and ruffling his hair.

"Hey, let me go!"

"Hmmm, let's see... Nope."

"Oh, come on! Fem, help me out here!"

Femke just laughed in response.

"Betrayal!" Laurent screeched, struggling to get out of his brother's headlock. Femke just laughed harder in response, almost falling over.

"You know, you could always just say the magic word to get out."

"The magic- What am I, five?"

"You certainly act like it sometimes."

"Fëck dech."

"Real mature, Laurent."

"Oh, like asking for the magic word is so mature."

"Absolutely. I haven't heard it yet, by the way. Femke, are you doing alright?" Willem asked, as his sister was now lying on the floor, tears streaming down her face. Gasping for air, she shook no.

"Seems like you'd better let me go before we make Femke choke," Laurent commented. Willem tsk-ed.

"Fine, fine. Fem, get up," he said, letting Laurent out of the headlock and extending a hand towards Femke.

"Give- give me a... minute," she said, still gasping for air. After she managed to get enough air in her lungs and not burst out laughing after she saw her brothers standing in front of her with worried (albeit semi-irritated) looks, she finally took Willem's offered hand.

"You two are utter morons."

Willem gasped. "Are you hearing this, Laurent? Slander, complete and utter slander!"

"Well, she's right about one of us, and it isn't me."

"Laurent, ik tyf je de Noordzee in als je niet ophoudt-"

"Try me, old man-"

"Who're you calling old you little-"

''Oh for- hou uw bakkes! If this becomes another argument, I will smother both of you!''

''You wouldn't dare,'' Willem said. After a beat of silence and a fierce glare from Femke, he added: ''Would you?''

''I don't know, why don't you find out?''

''Fem, you're scaring me a bit here,'' Laurent said nervously. Femke hummed. Laurent looked at Willem, wide-eyed. Willem just looked back and shrugged.

''Could you even reach me though?'' Willem, who apparently had a death wish, asked.

Femke whipped around, glaring at her brother. Willem just glared back.

''Guys, no, no one's getting killed today,'' Laurent interjected. ''This is supposed to be a fun family meeting, remember? If there's any way anyone's going down,'' he added on, a devilish grin on his face as he slowly inched closer to his still glaring siblings, ''It's going to be this way!'' he yelled as he quickly poked Willem in his side, who immediately yelped and tried to get away. To no avail, because Femke quickly latched onto his arm and started poking him in his side too.

''No, Fem, wait- What did I do to deserve this?!''

''Well, uh... you took the last waffle?''

''Are you asking me, or-'' Willem started to ask, then yelped again as his siblings started to tickle him.

''No! Please, mercy!''

''Hmmm, Lau, what do you think? Should we stop?'' Femke asked, looking at her younger brother.

''I don’t know, Fem,'' Laurent answered back, devilish grin still on his face. ''He hasn’t said the magic word yet.''

''Godverdomme, natuurlijk is dat het antwoord. Kut! Laurens, stop!''

''Hmm, let me think. Nee.''

Femke snickered. ''He looks like a worm, wiggling like that.''

''How the fuck-''

''Oh my god you're so right,'' Laurent said. ''Willem the worm,'' he started to say, but burst out laughing halfway through. Femke laid on top of Willem, wheezing. Willem, meanwhile, looked absolutely mortified.

''You two are so immature,'' he said.

''Says the guy currently laying on the floor because he's ticklish.''

''I will strangle you,'' Willem threatened.

''Try me, bit- Hey!'' Laurent started to say, before Willem had reached forward and pulled him besides him.

''You know, this is actually surprisingly comfortable,'' Femke commented after a beat of silence.

''No, you're heavy. Get off me- Lau don't you dare lay on top of Femke or I swear- oof!''

''Hmm? What was that?''

''I'll kill you.''

''Aw, we love you too!''

''... Ugh, fine, if I say it, will you get off?''

''Maybe!''

''You two are gremlins, oh my god. Fine, I love you too.''

''He said it! Lau, he said it!''

''Yeah yeah, we all heard it. Now get off me.''

''I mean... technically I never promised I'd get off-''

''Off. Now. Or I'll never bring you stroopwafels again.''

This earned him a scandalized gasp from both of his siblings.

''You’re so mean! How dare you deprive us of stroopwafels?!''

''You can't do that!''

''You two are impossible. I said off,'' Willem complained, trying to sit up. Which was hard, considering Femke was literally laying on top of him.

''Say the magic word first.''

''Are you serious right now? Femke, we are not five.''

''So?''

''... Fine. Femke, can you please get the fuck off me?''

''Fine, close enough,'' she said as she got off Willem, who immediately took a deep breath.

''Finally, oh sweet air how much I've missed you.''

''You’re so weird. Anyway,'' Femke said, turning towards Laurent. ''You recorded the whole thing, right?''

Laurent laughed and rolled his eyes. ''Like you had to ask.''

Willem gaped at them, before jumping up. ''Godver- Laurent give that camera here, right now!''

''No, I don’t want to. I must say this is great blackmail material.''

''Laurent, als je nu niet die camera hier geeft, dan-''

''Du muss mech als éischt fänken!''

Needless to say, Willem ended up chasing Laurent through the house, Femke following closely behind. In the end, all three of them ended up in a dogpile on the couch, laughing. Yeah, family meetings were fun indeed.

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

Translations:

Hoepel een eind op (Dutch) = a nice(ish) way of saying ‘fuck off’ or ‘go away’

Godverdomme (Dutch, Flemish) = goddammit

Nondikass (Luxembourgish) = used as an exclaimation, meaning something like ‘damn’.

Jezus Christus (Dutch) = Jesus Christ

Fëck dech (Luxembourgish) = Screw you

Ik tyf je de Noordzee in als je niet ophoudt (Dutch) = I will throw you into the North Sea if you don't stop. (The word ‘tyf’ is pretty rude though, albeit used by a lot of teens in my experience, so I would not recommend going around actually saying this.)

Hou uw bakkes (Flemish) = shut up

Godverdomme, natuurlijk is dat het antwoord. Kut! (Dutch) = ‘Goddammit, of course that's the answer. Fuck!’ (even though the word 'kut’ doesn’t mean ‘fuck’, it's used as a replacement pretty often. The more accurate translation would be ‘vagina’, as that is literally what it means, but it's used as a curse word more often than not.)

Nee (Dutch, Flemish, Luxembourgish) = No

Laurent, als je nu niet die camera hier geeft, dan- = Laurent, if you don't give me the camera right now, then-

Du muss mech als éischt fänken! (Luxembourgish) = youre gonna have to catch me first!

Stroopwafels are a Dutch delicacy, I love them so much. Basically, they’re waffles with syrup in between. Google them for examples and probably a better explanation.

I am physically incapable of not adding in a sprinkle of NedCan. I'm sorry (but actually not really,, as stated, Willem and Matthew are married so technically Matthew is family- *gets smacked*)

The ending is more crack and longer than I intended because I have no self-control. Sue me.

Moral of the story: don't anger short ppl. They’re angrier cuz they’re closer to hell-

Yes Willem is ticklish, I said what I said.

Bonus scene: ''Wait, so if Willem is a worm, would Matthew be like... a moose?''

''I am begging you two to stop. Laurent, stop laughing!''

#hetafamilyweek2021 #aph benelux #aph netherlands #aph belgium #aph luxembourg #hetalia #hws netherlands #hws belgium #hws luxembourg #aph friesland #aph holland #aph groningen #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #sibling banter #somerandomdutchfangirl #somerandomdutchartist

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aquietwritingcorner · 3 years

Text

Embers of Revelation

Author: RealityBreakGirl/aquietlearningcorner Word Count: 10235 Rating: T Prompt: FMA Big Bang 2021 Warnings: Child abuse/neglect Characters: Riza Hawkeye, Roy Mustang, Jean Havoc, Heymans Breda, Vato Falman, Kain Fuery, Black Hayate Pairing: Royai Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Family Chapter: 2 of 7 Summary: Tasked by Fuhrer Grumman to investigate a suspected alchemic incident, General Mustang’s team finds themselves stranded in Hawkeye’s hometown. Needing a place to stay, they find themselves taking shelter in her childhood home. However, her past can’t stay buried there, and as revelations come to light, they also bring embers of danger with them. Sequel to Embers in a Wounded Heart AO3 || ff.net

________________________________

Chapter 1

Rain, Jean Havoc decided, was like pretty much everything else in life. It was fine once in a while, but too much of it was a problem. There had definitely been too much rain lately. He sat in the office, a cigarette in his mouth as he looked out the windows at the ever-present downpour. The view of the city was still rain-obscured, and there was no extra light coming in from the windows, unless you counted the flashes of lightning that happened every so often. Havoc didn’t, and he didn’t think anyone else did either.

Not that they had talked about it. The weather being this miserable had left almost everyone with a pent-up energy and short tempers. They all knew it and tried not to snap at each other, but it was hard to be either cooped up all day, or out in the rain all day. Even Hayate was getting restless.

Speaking of, the little pooch was currently sitting in Fuery’s lap, although he had long ago gotten too big for that sort of thing, and Hawkeye had—mostly—trained him out of it. The storms seemed to have left the typically happy dog subdued, wanting to be close to people, and Havoc wondered if it had to do with how he had been left out in a storm before Fuery had found him. It would make sense. It would also explain why he looked calmer with Fuery, as Fuery was the one who had rescued him.

But the presence of the dog also seemed to be helping Fuery too. It hadn’t escaped Havoc’s notice how the young man’s mostly good-natured grumbling about the rain affecting the communication lines had turned into something stiffer and more tense as the storms had moved in. Multiple cups of coffee had made their appearance on the young man’s desk once more, and he had been a bit more withdrawn. The pup seemed to help Fuery, though, and for that Havoc was glad.

Fuery wasn’t the only one being affected by the rain, and Havoc stretched out his back a bit as he sat there, taking the time to observe the others in the room. Falman was shifting what appeared to be a weather map around, and as he stretched, Havoc craned his neck to get a better view of what was on the other man’s desk. It seemed to be full of stacks of weather reports, including ones from other parts of the country. Falman was staring intently at the map he had and making notes on a notepad. It didn’t seem that interesting to Havoc, but Falman seemed focused on it. He looked at a stack of papers and frowned deeply, and Havoc caught sight of them enough to realize that he was looking at reports for the North. Havoc had to wonder—was this a project for the general, or did it have a more personal flavor to it? It might explain why Falman had looked so serious the longer this rain went on.

Havoc twisted the other way, just as Breda let out a grunt of annoyance. The red-headed man was scowling at what appeared to be a small amount of mayonnaise that had fallen from his sandwich, just narrowly missing the reports that were on his desk. Scowling, Breda reached for a napkin, although it didn’t escape his notice the way that Breda was favoring the elbow he broke in Pendleton. It seemed the weather was affecting it, which explained some of Breda’s irritation lately.

Havoc understood that well. He leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms. His legs were aching from the constant rainfall, along with his back, and he wished he could get outside and run, or even just get outside and smoke. Anything that wouldn’t leave him cooped up and soggy. He released his stretch, and reached in a drawer, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it up.

Breda glanced over at him, looking up from where he was cleaning up the mayonnaise. “I thought you were quitting those things,” he said.

“Tryin’,” Havoc drawled back. “But right now, they’re helping.”

Breda looked at him a moment, then snorted. “Go to the gym if you’re that restless,” he said, and turned back to his sandwich and his work.

“Nah,” Havoc said. “Its not the same. Doesn’t really help.”

“When you’re addicted again and Catalina tells you to shove off because you smell like an ashtray, don’t come crying to me then,” Breda said.

“Aw, didn’t know you cared,” he said back.

“I don’t,” Breda replied brusquely, and turned his back on Havoc.

Havoc grinned, glad to know that no matter the weather, he could count on his best friend’s surly attitude to brighten a room. Before he could say anything snarky back, the doors to the office opened, delivering a very soggy Hawkeye and Mustang, not that there was anything that wasn’t soggy lately. Neither of them looked happy, though, and Havoc found himself hoping it was because of the rain, and not because whatever news they had gotten.

As they shed their coats, though, Havoc caught sight of a plain manilla envelop in their hands and mentally groaned. Something told him that wasn’t pleasant news. Welp, only one way to find out.

“Hey Boss, Hawkeye,” he greeted them. “What’d Grumman want?”

“Fuhrer Grumman,” Riza corrected with a frown towards him. He let it roll right off him.

“Grumman wants us to go investigate another enclave,” Mustang said, either ignoring or exempt from Hawkeye’s scolding on how to refer to people.

“Again?” Breda said, turning around to face them. “Why us? Half of these turn out to be nothing, and most of the other half turn out to be so inept that they pretty much confess things on the spot.”

“Orders are orders,” Mustang said, although they could all hear the weariness in his voice. He wanted to be finished with jobs like this as well. “He wants the whole team on this one. It has the potential to be bigger than we realize. We’ll need to leave tomorrow.” He nodded his head towards Hawkeye. “Hawkeye will make the arrangements. We’ll travel by train. When she has that all worked out, she’ll let you know what time to be at the station.”

There was a mumbled agreement, and Mustang went off towards his office, envelope in hand. Hawkeye, on the other hand, went around pushing all the curtains open and turning on the lamps. Havoc could see Fuery out of the corner on his eye, trying to surreptitiously get Hayate down without her noticing.

“So, Hawkeye, where are we going?” Havoc asked her, watching as she came back to her desk. There was a tightness to her shoulders again, and it made Havoc frown. Why was she so tense?

“Womiob,” she said.

“Womiob?” Havoc said, the name ringing a bell in his head.

She nodded, but she didn’t say anything else as she was already picking up the phone and dialing. “Yes, hello. I need six tickets to Womiob, and I need to leave tomorrow. Yes, I know that your volume of traffic is up, however if you could—yes. Yes. Yes, I understand. A transfer at East City is acceptable. Yes. Yes, I’ll hold.”

Hawkeye glanced at the team, and frowned at Fuery pointedly, who at least had the grace to look a little sheepish, as Hayate was still in his lap. Before she could say or do anything, though, her attention snapped back to the phone.

“Yes, I’m still here. Yes. Alright, thank you. Someone from General Mustang’s command will be there to pick them up in the morning. Yes, I understand. Thank you.” She hung up the phone and took a moment to make a few notes on her notepad. Everyone waited silently. After a moment, she straightened up. “Alright, men,” she said. “The train leaves at 7:30 sharp. We need to be there at least by 7:00. The woman said that the trains have been packed lately, so it’s best to get there early to get a seat.”

“Mustang’s not going to like that,” Breda grunted out.

Hawkeye smiled. “You just leave Mustang to me. He’ll be there on time. Pack for a week or longer and pack a lunch. It’s going to be a long trip.”

There was a collective grumble at that, but it didn’t seem to discourage Hawkeye any. She just straightened her shoulders and, still tense, made her way back into Mustang’s office. They all watched until the door to Mustang’s office closed, and only then did they start speaking.

“…Think we’ll find anything this time?” Havoc asked.

“Who knows?” Breda said. “Half of me wants to find something to make this trip worth it.”

“Yeah…” Havoc looked out the window and trailed off. “I’m not looking forward to traveling in this weather.”

“Maybe it’ll be better at Womiob,” Fuery said, settling Hayate back in his lap.

Falman shook his head. “Not likely. Looking at the current weather patterns and the reports, I’d estimate that we’d experience at least just as much rain as we are here. In fact, looking at the current reports—”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it. It’s going to be wet, miserable and raining no matter where we go,” Breda interrupted.

Havoc sighed. “Well, guess we better make sure we’re ready.”

With a sigh, Fuery reached for the phone, placing a call down to records. Havoc could hear him apologizing to Sheska for breaking a movie date again, and he heard the others returning to their work. But Havoc’s attention was fixed more firmly on that door and the tension he had seen in Hawkeye.

It hadn’t been that long ago that he, Mustang, and Hawkeye had all taken a trip together. They had gone to Awrout, Hawkeye’s hometown, and to Hawkeye’s childhood home, for research. They had come back empty handed with that, and Havoc had carried the distinct impression that it might have been better that way. But Havoc had gained a greater understanding of both Mustang and Hawkeye, as well as some insights in their female captain’s early life.

This tension didn’t seem to be as heavy as that tension had been, but it was still heavier than the tension she typically had on one of these missions, and it left Havoc wondering.

“Hey, Falman. Lemme see one of those maps,” he said.

“Why?” Falman questioned as he passed it over.

“I wanna see where Womiob is.”

Falman passed one over to him, and Havoc looked it over. It was a little southeast of East City, near the border, and that explained why Havoc knew of it. Some of the supplies from the East had come through there to his family’s store. But that wasn’t what he was looking for now, and he traced the path they would take to get there. Sure enough, as he suspected, they would go through Awrout.

He handed the map back to Falman with a word of thanks, and then sat back, staring at the door again. That trip had brought up a lot of bad memories for Hawkeye, to the point of a vulnerability Havoc didn’t think he had ever seen out of her. Even though they would just be passing through, after that he was sure it would be uncomfortable for her.

Breda had taken the map from Falman and was now looking at the route himself. “…That’s why you wanted to see,” he said, and Havoc’s attention swiveled back to him. Breda’s eyes were fixed on Awrout as well. “You never did tell us what happened on that trip.”

That caught the attention of Falman and Fuery, who now also looked at the map, understanding and curiosity in their eyes when they saw Awrout.

“I told ya,” Havoc said, taking another drag on his cigarette, “It’s not my business ta tell. Hawk n’ Mustang will let you know if they want you to.”

“You did tell us that the captain’s father was the general’s alchemy teacher,” Fuery said.

“Yeah, and that’s all,” Havoc said, stressing it, “because that’s all I really know. You know how those two are. When they wanna keep a secret, no one knows about it.”

“It’s too bad it’s a rushed trip,” Falman said. “I would like to see the place the captain grew up.”

“It’s just a wide spot in the road, Falman,” Havoc said. “Now drop it. You know neither of them would be happy to hear us talking about Hawkeye behind her back like this.”

The others took the hint, and settled back down into their work, but Havoc couldn’t help but glance at the door, and remember the tension in Hawkeye’s shoulders. It should be fine, though, right? After all, they would just be passing through, and then all they would have to focus on was the mission.

The next day broke the same as all of the previous days—cloudy, raining, and miserable. Havoc personally felt that the early hour made it even worse. He had nothing against being up early—he had grown up getting up early—but he hadn’t been sleeping well due to his aching legs and back. It took him a bit of hobbling around to get his legs warmed up and ease the stiffness and pain out of them, which slowed him down. While he was well acquainted with doing various things from a seated position, the delay in moving meant that he had to rush out the door to make it to the train station in time. It was never a good idea to keep Hawkeye waiting when she had given you a clear time to be somewhere.

Wet and muddy from the walk, Havoc somehow managed to make it to the station on time. He grimaced at the muck on his boots, doing his best to scrape it off on the curb before he entered. The station was already packed, with dozens of other soggy travelers standing around in small, sleepy groups. He supposed that most people that had to travel were opting for the train as opposed to a car or wagon. It was less muddy, drier, and you could at least get up and walk around a little.

Still, in the crush of people, it took him a minute to spot his team. They weren’t the only military personal traveling by train—there were plenty of others there too. It took him a moment to spot his team, but once he did he wound his way through the crowd towards them, taking them in as he approached. Mustang had his expensive luggage again and was yawning, just like the last time they had traveled. Hawkeye was, to no surprise, looking positively bright-eyed and bushytailed, as his Pa would say, and had her sturdy carpetbag by her feet. Fuery was traveling like him, a rucksack slung over his shoulder, still looking a bit tired as he rubbed under his glasses. Breda was Breda, looking grouchy with his plain piece of luggage, but was, as usual, alert. Falman’s bag was odd, looking like something from up north, which it probably was, and the tall man was currently holding Hayate for Hawkeye, keeping the pup off of the muddy ground

Part of Havoc wondered how much longer it would be until Falman just went back up North and stayed there. It was obvious that he had become a Briggsman, and Havoc wouldn’t be the least bit surprised when he made the final move up that way.

“Finally,” Breda said as Havoc approached them, although there was an upturn to his lips that let Havoc know he was teasing him. “You just gotta be the last one here, huh?”

“Yeah, well, you try finding a taxi in this weather,” he shot back.

“Alright boys,” Hawkeye said, interrupting the banter. “Here are your tickets.” She started passing out tickets to them, along with a file folder. “You’re also getting copies of the reports that we’ll need to look over. This is confidential information, so let’s keep the chatter on it to a minimum until we’re in a more secure location—and please, try to keep it dry.”

Havoc was half sure he heard Breda mumble something that sounded like “good luck” at that, but if Hawkeye heard it, she ignored it.

“When we board, we need to do our best to find a place to sit together,” Mustang said. “It’s not going to be easy, but it’ll be for the best. Keep close. It’s clearly going to be a crowded train ride.”

“Is Hayate going to be alright on the trip?” Fuery asked, the sleep starting to leave his eyes.

Hawkeye smiled at him, concerns about the pup always softening her a bit. “He’ll be fine enough, I think. We’ll just have to keep an eye on him. If you can help me out with that, Sergeant, I’d appreciate it.”

“Of course, sir!” Fuery said.

“I’ll pitch in, too,” Havoc offered. “I’m sure I’ll be walking the train some—the pooch can come with me.”

“Thank you, Havoc, I appreciate it.”

Breda was eyeing the dog with a bit of distaste, but he wisely chose to not say anything. He still wasn’t fond of dogs, but he had nominally accepted Hayate as something that would be around and was occasionally useful, which was a big improvement from screaming in fear—not that Havoc was ever going to let him forget that. What good buddy would?

The rest of the time until boarding was spent watching each other’s stuff while they took turns for the bathroom, talking over the situation that they were heading into, and generally making small talk. They subtly moved closer to the train car as they did, hoping to get a good run at the seats.

Breda bumped his elbow. “Hey,” he said, in a lull in conversation, “You alright?”

He must have noticed the way that Havoc was shifting as he was standing there, having trouble standing still for a bit. “Yeah… it’s just going to be a bit rough. This weather has been messing with me. My legs and back have been aching a lot. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

Breda frowned. “I get that,” he said. “My elbow’s been aching for days. I know it’s not quite the same, but…”

“Nah, close enough,” Havoc said. “It’s just something I’ll have to deal with. I’ll take this over not being able to walk at all.”

Breda grunted, but Havoc could tell that he was keeping an extra eye on him.

Soon it was time to board the train, and they, along with almost everyone else, made a rush for it. It was a bit of pushing and jostling, and Havoc felt a bit sorry for the conductors, but they managed to get on board and snag some decent seats. They stowed their luggage and settled in for what looked to be a long and very crowded ride.

The poor weather did, though, help keep the crowds a bit subdued. The skies were still exceedingly dark, with the rain pouring in droves against the windows. Thunder crackled overhead and lightning flashed, and most people kept their conversation to a low murmur. The conductors came by and lit the lamps that were in the train cars. Groups sat together, cramped into seats, and kids played in the aisles, although quietly for the most part. The whole atmosphere had an odd feel to it that Havoc didn’t like, and it made him put off reading the folder that Hawkeye had given him. He didn’t want to add to the uneasy feeling that he already had.

The ride was long and, as he suspected, Havoc had trouble staying still. His legs ached for movement, and so he walked the train car, even walking the length of the train a couple of times. They passed through several small towns, although Havoc frowned when he realized that for some reason things were becoming familiar. It was only when he heard a conductor mention that they were coming up on Awrout that he realized why and headed back towards the team.

Passing between the cars was a bit more difficult this time, with the wind buffeting him and rain slicing into his uniform. He wondered if it was just the direction he was going, or if the weather was picking up. Ultimately, it didn’t matter. By the time he arrived back in the car he was more than a little wet. It wasn’t as important to him, though, as how Hawkeye was feeling. She had switched seats by this time—although to be fair they all had, several times—and was now sitting with Mustang between her and the window. She seemed tense, although she was trying not to appear tense. To her team, though, who knew her so well, it was obvious. Mustang angling towards her was a dead giveaway. Their subtilty was a little less subtle then normal, and the team took notice.

“You’re not sitting next to me like that,” Breda said, eyeing Havoc. “What did you do, stand on the platforms between cars?”

“Yeah. Thought I’d bring Falman another weather report and a sampling,” he replied, although he didn’t try to sit down.

Mustang frowned. “Is it getting worse out there?” he asked.

“I think so, sir,” Havoc said. “Or at least, it seemed to be. Coulda just been how we were traveling.”

Falman’s brow creased. “I hope that it isn’t going to cause any problems,” Falman said. “There have been reports of the amount of rain causing problems with infrastructure.”

Mustang’s frown increased, but he didn’t say anything as a conductor came by. “We’re going to be pulling into Awrout in a few moments. Please stay seated if you are not disembarking here.”

Breda looked out the window, although nothing but trees could be seen. “Doesn’t look like there’s much here to disembark for.”

“There’s not,” Hawkeye said, a bit harsh, and the other men exchanged a look. Havoc knew what was up, but the other men seemed concerned or curious as to her tone. None of them pressed it though, knowing how private Hawkeye was.

It was a few minutes later when the train started to slow, although something about it felt a bit off. They had all traveled on trains enough to feel that, and it seemed that they weren’t the only ones, as several other adults around seem tense up a bit as well. Still, they pulled into the station with no problems as far as the train went. Hawkeye, though, was very stiff and still, Mustang very atuned to her, and the rest of the team seeming a bit unsure about the whole thing. Havoc eyed them carefully, trying to get a good read on the situation as they sat in the train and waited to leave.

And waited.

They waited far passed an acceptable time to wait, even if the train needed water. Hawkeye was growing more and more tense as they sat there, and Mustang looked as if he was about to get up to go demand some information. Havoc was just about to volunteer to do it himself, just to make sure Mustang didn’t throw his weight around too much, when a conductor, drenched in rain, entered the car.

“Ladies and gentlemen, if I may have your attention, please,” he said, and the train car quieted down. “There’s been some trouble. The tracks have washed out down the line and have made any further travel unsafe. We’re going to stay here in Awrout until the tracks are repaired. There is a small inn that has offered up rooms for a reduced price, and many of the good folk have offered up their homes for guests. We’ll also be using the train for sleeping accommodations. I’m sorry for this, folks, but it’s not safe to go on.”

Havoc glanced at Hawkeye. She had gone ramrod straight in her seat, her knuckles white as she clutched her folder. Mustang was frowning deeply, and within a moment he stood up.

“Excuse me,” he said to the conductor, and the chatter that had started up stopped. “If it’s a matter of repair, I can be of help. I’m a state alchemist. I can fix the tracks if you take me to them.”

A murmur started up again, but the conductor shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, sir, but it’s not just the tracks. The ground is too saturated for it to be safe. Additionally, there’s also a bridge to cross further down that is too risky right now.”

Mustang frowned. “What about going back, then?” he asked.

The conductor shook his head again. “The problem of ground saturation is the same. Even after this rain ends, we’re going to have to inspect the tracks for safety. I thank you for your offer, but unless your alchemy can stop this rain, then there isn’t much you can do.”

With that the conductor left, and the train went back to murmuring among themselves. The team exchanged uneasy looks, but no one seemed to have a good suggestion as for what to do.

Finally, Hawkeye, who had been growing more and more on edge, spoke. “This is ridiculous!” she said, abruptly standing up. She gathered Hayate in her arms and strode down the car towards the door. Mustang shot out of his seat, following her with a look of alarm on his face.

“What—” Havoc heard Breda mutter, but that was all he heard before the red-head was gathering both his and Mustang’s luggage and following behind. Taking the hint, the rest of the team quickly followed after, Havoc grabbing Hawkeye’s bag as well as his own. By the time they got outside, Hawkeye and Mustang were already at the small Station Master’s building, Hawkeye pressing in to talk to the Station Master. Havoc couldn’t hear exactly what she was saying, but it was clear that she was unhappy.

“—you telling me that there’s nothing? No cars, no trucks, not even a wagon out of here?”

The Station Master was shaking his head. “No, there’s nothin’. Nothin’ can get through this rain. It’s hard enough for the locals to get about.”

“But surely there’s something. Clearly supplies have been coming in,” she pressed.

“Until right now, it was the trains,” he said, giving her a stern look. “There’s no gettin’ out of here unless you wanna walk, Miss Hawkeye—and I don’t recommend that.”

Her jaw worked for a moment, and tension seemed to fill her.

“What’s up with Hawkeye?” Breda murmured, his brow furrowed.

Havoc considered what to say for a moment. How much should he say about the little that he knew? Should he even say anything?

Even in her obvious emotion, Hawkeye was a logical person, and she seemed to sense that there was no further to go on this argument. She huffed. “Fine. We’ll go take a room at the inn, then.”

The station master fixed her with a chastising. “I never took you for the selfish type, Miss Hawkeye,” he said. “There’s plenty ‘a people on that train with no place to stay ‘round here. You’ve got a place that’ll hold you ‘n all of yours, just with some supplies.”

Hawkeye looked something between outraged, guilty, and chastised, to Havoc’s eyes and, after a moment, she turned to leave. Mustang stood in her way and their eyes met, one of their silent conversations flowing between them. She took a couple of deep breaths, her jaw set, and Hayate whined against her.

“Fine,” she said, voice tight. “We’ll go there.”

She turned and stalked off, heading off the platform and down, the bewildered team following.

“What’s going on?” Breda asked again, although louder, so that anyone could answer the question.

When neither Hawkeye nor Mustang answered, Havoc took it upon himself to. “…This is Hawkeye’s hometown,” he said. “And it looks like we’ll be staying at the place she grew up.”

That apparently answered very little of the team’s questions, but Havoc wouldn’t answer more at the moment. With no other idea what to do, they followed Hawkeye and Mustang. The packed dirt road Havoc remembered from his last visit had turned into thick muck that pulled at his boots, and the rain soaked his uniform even further. It didn’t slow Mustang or Hawkeye, though, as they made their way to the general store, where Hawkeye ducked in with no hesitation at all. Mustang followed her, but Breda stepped in front of Havoc and turned to face him, stopping the rest of them before they went in.

“Alright, I want to know what you know,” he said to Havoc. “You and the general and captain came here a few months back because the general wanted to do some research. Mustang and Hawkeye looked like they were going to end each other when they left, and when you came back, they were better than before. You know what happened here and you have information. I wasn’t going to press because it wasn’t relevant. It’s relevant now. What do you know, Havoc?”

Falman and Fuery’s eyes turned towards him, and Havoc looked between the three men who were looking to him for answers. Finally, with a sigh, he relented. “Alright. Look, not all of it is mine to tell, okay? And some of it is private. But I’ll give you the bare bones.”

Breda nodded and seemed satisfied with that.

Havoc continued. “This is Hawkeye’s hometown. She grew up here, but… I don’t have the whole story, but it wasn’t a happy childhood. All I really know is that it was tough, her mother died when she was young, and she took care of her father until he died.” He could see the men’s reactions: the sympathy blooming in Fuery’s eyes, the uncomfortable shifting of Falman, and the stoic, calculating gaze of Breda. “I… don’t think he was good father,” he said. “I already told you that her father was the General’s alchemy teacher, but no, I don’t know what this means about flame alchemy. For all I know, he just taught the general the basics and he learned flame alchemy somewhere else. I don’t know anything for sure.” Although he had his theories that it at least came from Hawkeye’s dad’s research. “But that’s the basics. Hawkeye’s hometown, hard childhood, and Mustang studied under her dad.”

Breda’s eyes cut toward the doorway of the store. “That explains a little, at least,” he said, although it was clear that he also had other questions.

“Yeah, well, don’t push too much on anything else, okay? I don’t think she’s in the mood for it.” With that, Havoc moved around him and into the store, looking around.

Mrs. Nelson spotted him immediately and waved him over. “Oh, Lieutenant,” she said. “It’s so good to see you again! I didn’t expect you to come back so soon.”

Havoc gave her an easy grin. “To be fair, ma’am, we weren’t supposed to do more than just pass through.”

She clucked her tongue. “I’ll say! What a situation! My husband is out back looking over a wagon that should be good for you. Riza said that there were six of you this time, correct? Plus, that little fellow,” she gestured to Hayate, who was currently enjoying the scratches and cuddles of a couple of kids. “That’s quite a number of supplies. We might have to stretch it a bit. Then again, she always has been good at making things stretch, poor thing.”

“Yes’m,” Havoc replied. He had heard the others come in behind him. “These are the others that are with us. Lieutenant Heymans Breda, Lieutenant Vato Falman, and Master Sergeant Kain Fuery. If you don’t mind, ma’am, I’ll let them help you with the supplies. The captain knows more about wagons then the general does, but I’d still rather look myself.”

“Mercy, yes,” she said. “You go on out back, that way.” She waved her hand. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

Havoc gave her a wave, leaving the others to her, and went out back towards the loading dock. It was still, of course, pouring rain, but Havoc had just resigned himself to being soaked to the bone at this point. He didn’t see them anywhere, but he kept going, eventually finding them in a barn out back that was, mercifully, fairly dry. Mustang, Hawkeye, and Mr. Nelson were discussing a wagon, and Riza was looking at it a bit uncertainly.

“If you’re wonderin’ if I can drive that in the rain, the answer’s yes,” he said, interrupting them. “I’ve driven them in all sorts of weather. It’ll be slow going, but I think I can manage.”

Mr. Nelson looked at him. “I like your confidence, son, but are ya sure? It’s a mite of a distance t’ the old Hawkeye place, and the road isn’t good to begin with.”

“That’s true,” Havoc said, “but if we do come across a problem, there’s a good chance that the general’s alchemy can help us out.”

Mr. Nelson eyed Mustang as if he wasn’t quite sure that he could believe that, but Hawkeye cut in on him. “No, Havoc has a point. If something breaks, or we need something made, then the general should be able to help us out. If you’re worried about your wagon, please don’t be. We will take care of it, and repair anything it needs.”

Mr. Nelson seemed to consider this, then nodded. “Alright. I’ll let ya take her ‘n’ a couple ‘o the horses, as long as ya bring them back in a couple o’ days, even if it’s still pourin’ rain.”

Mustang nodded. “We can do that, Mr. Nelson.”

Mr. Nelson nodded. “Alright. Then let’s get her loaded up for you.”

The next few minutes were spent with readying the wagon and horses, while Hawkeye went back to check on the state of the supplies. Mustang followed her after Mr. Nelson practically chased him out, telling him he’d be of better use in there then with the horses.

Mr. Nelson looked over at the door to the barn, then back to Havoc. “They seem to be better than they were comin’ in the last time ya were here,” he said.

Havoc smiled. “They are,” he said. “They got better by the end of that trip.”

He nodded. “Alright. You all look after her now, alright? I know she’s strong, but she’s had a tough time here.”

This time, Havoc grinned. “Don’tcha worry about that. She’s got a whole team to look after her.”

Mr. Nelson gave a nod, and they spoke no more on it after that.

After preparing it, Havoc and Mr. Nelson took the wagon out into the rain, but not before they made sure all of the supplies were ready to load. Neither of them wanted the wagon or the horses to be in the rain more than necessary. Havoc took charge of the loading, as Mr. Nelson’s sons who would usually do it, were busy helping with the train passangers. He had experience on how to load the wagon, and Mr. Nelson watched for a while until he nodded approvingly and left. It took a while, but the wagon was loaded up and covered with an oiled cloth. Not long after that, they were ready to go, Havoc at the reigns with Hayate sitting up there with him to spare the little dog the mud.

It was slow going, and most of the team walked just because of that. Truthfully, they could have walked it faster than the wagon was going, but they all stuck with it simply because of the difficulty that the wagon encountered along the way. More than once, they had to stop and dig the wagon out the mud or levee it up. At times, Mustang had to use his alchemy to try to make a way for the wagon to move easier through the mud. By the time they arrived at the Hawkeye estate they were all soaked and filthy.

The house, to Havoc, looked even more foreboding in this weather. It loomed, especially as the lightning flashed behind it. He looked at Hawkeye out of the corner of his eye and watched her shudder. It could easily be passed off as a chill from the weather and the way that she was soaked, but both Havoc and Mustang seemed to see something in her eyes, and they exchanged glances. This was clearly going to be hard for her, not that Havoc had really expected anything less.

He drove the wagon around back, just like before, although this time Hawkeye didn’t go in through the front door but took her keys around to the back. The team followed, all of them drenched and muddy. Hawkeye took the keys and put them in the lock, turning it, cursing, turning it harder, and then shoving her shoulder into it. It made a creaking sound like it was unsticking, but it didn’t budge.

“Oh, come on!” she snapped out, clearly irritated. She shoved against it harder, and it didn’t move. She huffed. “It’s always stuck in bad weather,” she said.

“Let me try,” Breda said, and Hawkeye stepped out of the way. Breda turned the knob, and leaned his shoulder into it, giving the door a hard shove. For a moment, it looked like it wasn’t going to move, but after a couple of seconds, it finally did, pushing open with a sticking, scraping sound. Breda stumbled inside with the door, shoving it all the way open.

Hawkeye followed after him, but Havoc stayed on the wagon. Mustang turned to look at him and the other men. “Alright. Let’s get this unloaded. Try not to track too much mud in.”

“Yes, sir!” Fuery replied. He reached up to the wagon, and gathered Hayate in his arms, taking the soggy dog inside.

“That’s cheating!” Havoc called after him but turned and got down off the wagon. He instructed Falman in how to roll the oiled cloth back just a bit at a time so all the goods wouldn’t get soaked while they were unloading them, and then a frenzied unloading began, all the men working quickly to pull out the items. Havoc got glimpses of Hawkeye as she directed them in where to put things, clearly in charge of the house. Most of it was piled in corners until she could clean the counters and the cabinets, but it was at least inside and out of the rain. Her floors were a mess of mud and water, but there was little any of them could do about that.

“I’ll go take care of the horses and get them settled. I think that the barn was relatively sound,” Havoc said.

“It is,” Mustang replied. “I made sure of it.”

Havoc saw Riza look at Mustang askance, but she said nothing. Instead, she started directing the men about what to do about their muddy clothes. After all, cleaning up tracked mud through the house wasn’t exactly anyone’s idea of a good time.

Havoc left them there, heading out to the barn. Like last time, he parked the wagon in it, and unhitched the horses. The Nelsons had been kind enough to provide hay and feed for them, and Havoc took care of it all, getting them settled. He figured that Hawkeye would probably know how to do this, but would anyone else? He honestly wasn’t sure if any of his teammates had the skills for this or not. It would be something that he would need to find out.

Soon enough, it was all done, and he stopped at the barn door to scrape what he could of the mud off of his boots. Sure, he was just going to get more on them, but it was, at least, less to track in or to leave by the back door. He made his way across the squishing, muddy yard to the back door, which had been at least somewhat shoved closed. He pushed it open and slipped inside, closing it behind him. The only one in the kitchen at the moment was Hawkeye, who was busy cleaning out cabinets and cleaning off counters.

“Where’s everyone else?” he asked as she worked.

“I made them strip down and leave their clothes in the washroom,” she said. “Then I sent them with their luggage to go clean up and change.” She looked at him. “You’re less muddy than the rest of us because you were on the wagon, but you’re still pretty dirty and soaked through. Why don’t you put your boots and clothes in the washroom, and then head to the showers yourself.”

“What about you?” he asked, not wanting to leave her to do all the work herself.

She shook her head. “It’ll be easier for all of you men to go first. Then I’ll go. I know where everything goes, and I can work on getting the kitchen order and cleaning this floor.”

He frowned at her. “It’ll be a bit, then, before I get a turn, yeah? I can help you out until then at least.”

Hawkeye seemed to consider that. “Alright,” she said. “I already sent the others up with cleaning supplies for the rest of the house while they wait. You can help me start unloading the food and washing the dishes here.” She jerked a thumb at the washroom. “Leave your boots on, because there’s no saving this floor at the moment, but go ahead and leave your jacket and butt cape in the washroom.”

“Right-o,” he said, and headed off to do that.

It only took him a few minutes, and then he was back with her, cleaning the taller things, and helping to get the kitchen in order. He helped her get the stove cleaned out and fetched some wood from the indoor pile to get a fire in it started. As soon as they had cleaned up the coffee pot, a pot of coffee was put on. All of the men would be appreciative of the warm drink. With the two of them working together, it wasn’t long before the kitchen was getting in working order, with the food put away and the appliances functional.

She sent him out when it was mostly done, to strip and then go wandering upstairs in his underwear to see if he could get a shower yet. It seemed Mustang and Breda had managed to shower, although the water was getting colder with each turn they took, and were now dressed in clean, and more importantly, dry clothes. Falman was currently in, and Fuery was waiting.

“I was wondering when you’d get here,” Breda said.

Havoc flashed him a grin. “What, couldn’t wait to see this?” he teased.

“Ugh, no. I just want to see Hawkeye put you to work like the rest of us.”

“Hey—driving that wagon was hard work!” he protested. “And I took care of the horses and helped Hawkeye clean up the kitchen. I think I’ve been doing more work than you!”

“It does sound like a lot,” Fuery pipped up from where he was leaning on the wall, waiting on his turn for the shower. “She gave us a list of things to do when we were clean as well. Most of it is just things to prepare the rooms, though.”

“Yeah?” Havoc said. “She tell you which rooms to go in?”

“She said all the bedrooms, but told us to stay out of the study,” Fuery said.

“Huh,” Havoc said. “Even that one?” he pointed to the Master bedroom.

“Yeah,” Breda said. His eyes narrowed in confusion. “Any reason she shouldn’t?”

“I mean, it was just that was her father’s room. I didn’t know if she wanted anyone else in there,” he said with a shrug.

“I’m the only one that’s been in there so far,” Mustang said, as he appeared from the study, the one room that he, apparently, had permission to go into that the others did not. “I’ve taken care of it. It’ll be up to her, though, what happens from here.”

“Gotcha,” Havoc said, but before he could say anything more, Falman emerged from the bathroom, done with his shower. “Fuery,” he called. “Your turn.”

Fuery wasted no time in getting up and heading towards the shower, clearly ready to be clean and in dry clothes again.

“If you want,” Havoc said to the other men, “Hawkeye ‘n I put on a pot of coffee downstairs. You might have to ask her pass it back out to you, if the floor is still muddy, though. She’s pretty adamant about us not tracking it in the rest of the house.”

Mustang sighed. “She always was.” The other three men looked at Mustang curiously, obviously hoping for some sort of story, but he didn’t give it to them. “Alright,” he said, “let’s finish up here and then see what she needs our help with downstairs.”

Fuery was, mercifully, a quick shower, and he was in and out soon. Havoc soon found out why. The water was freezing, but it did do its job. By the time he emerged, his teeth were chattering, but he was clean.

“I vote we make Falman shower last,” he muttered to himself. “He had to have gotten used to the cold at Briggs.”

He dressed and took note of how the second floor seemed to be quite clean and, at this point, fairly well-lit despite the dark day. He could hear the others downstairs, and so he made his way down. Hawkeye already had them cleaning, although she had clearly confined herself to the kitchen, who’s floor was about half clean.

“Hey, I’m out,” he said, looking at her, and she nodded to him.

“Alright, let me just finish this floor and then I’ll head up as well.” She said.

“Just to warn you, that water is as cold as Briggs.” Havoc said.

He could have sworn he heard a muttered “not likely” from Falman, but he didn’t follow it up right then.

Hawkeye just snorted. “It wouldn’t be the first time,” she said. “At least it’s not frozen solid. That was a problem one year.”

Havoc could imagine that it was, but he didn’t really have too much to say on that. Instead, he stepped into the kitchen, on the clean parts of the floor, and reached for the coffee pot. It didn’t take him long to pour a cup, just as it didn’t take Hawkeye long to finish the floor. Within minutes it was sparkling and clean, and there was no mud in sight. He honestly had no idea how she had managed it, but she clearly had.

“Alright,” she said, standing in the doorway of the washroom. “Close your eyes.”

“What?” he said.

“Close your eyes,” she repeated. “Do you think I’m going to go up there in this and track mud all throughout my house? No thank you. I need to strip down too.”

“Ah,” Havoc said, and immediately turned around. “I’m just gonna… I’ll go warn the guys,” he said, slipping out of the kitchen and into the rest of the house, keeping his back to her the whole time.

“Hey,” he said, as he walked into the rest of the house, spotting Breda and Falman right away. “Hawkeye’s about to strip down to go get her shower, and she’d rather have her privacy.”

“Of course.”

“Sure.”

“Hey Fuery,’d hear that?” He called, spotting the young man scrutinizing the old radio in the living room.

“What?” he said.

“I said Hawkeye’s about to come through, so look away.”

“Oh! Yes, sir, can do!”

“Where’s Mustang?” Havoc asked.

“Right here,” he said, emerging from the lower bathroom with Hayate wrapped in a towel. “I was trying to heat up the water. I think it worked.”

“What’s what the dog?” Havoc asked.

“She’ll want to bathe him too. Might as well do it while she’s bathing. It’s faster that way.”

“Is everyone warned?” Hawkeye’s voice floated back from the kitchen. Havoc looked at the men, who respectfully turned their backs to the direction that she’d need to come through. He turned his as well.

“Yeah, you’re good!” he called back, and closed his eyes for an extra added layer of security. He could hear her bare feet padding through, moving quickly, and then heard another set of footsteps join her—the General.

“I’ve got Hayate for you,” he said as they walked.

“Thank you, but I’m not sure how he’s going to take the cold water.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. I made sure that the water was warm.”

“Without burning the house down? Impressive.”

“Hey, that was one time!”

Their voices faded as they made their way upstairs, and when they heard the last stair creak, the men opened their eyes and turned back around. For a moment, they were silent.

“…well. We all knew it,” Breda said.

“Seems the general can see the captain like that,” Falman said.

“Yeah, and like it wasn’t anything new,” Breda said. A moment of silence fell over the men before Breda spoke up again. “Alright, back to work. We don’t want the Hawk shooting us because we were here gossiping instead of working.”

There was a bit of grumbling, but the men kept working. Havoc helped a bit with direction seeing as he had been here before and had a vague idea of what Hawkeye might want. Meanwhile, from upstairs they could hear some noise that sounded like feet moving too close together, and heavy steps. The men exchanged looks, Havoc raising his eyebrows more than once, at least until Mustang came down the stairs with Hayate wrapped in another towel.

“Sounded like quite a time up there, sir,” Havoc drawled as Mustang came into view.

Mustang blinked at him for a moment, and then scowled. “It was Hayate,” he said. “The captain was bathing him too, and after he was finished, she handed him out to me. But he didn’t want to come.”

“Mm-hm,” Havoc said. “Handed him to you, huh?”

Mustang’s scowl increased. “I can still set you on fire, Havoc.”

Havoc grinned at him but got back to work.

It wasn’t long after that, that Riza came back down, looking much cleaner and a bit more relaxed. Mustang had started a fire in the fireplace in the living room by then, and Hayate was laying by the fire, sleeping as he dried off.

“Feel better, Captain?” Fuery asked her.

“Much,” she said as she looked around the room. “You boys seem to be doing a good job.”

“Well General said you were picky,” Havoc said. “Although he didn’t say how he knew.”

A bit of a smile played at her lips. “I would hit him with the mop when he tracked mud in my house,” she said.

Breda stopped, leaning on the broom he had. “Yeah, so, that brings up a few questions.”

Mustang and Hawkeye exchanged a look. Finally, Hawkeye spoke. “This is my childhood home,” she said. “I grew up in this house with my father. He was an alchemist.”

Even though she had said it with a straight face and an even tone, that statement seemed to hold a hidden weight. Havoc exchanged looks with Breda.

“When I was young, he took on the general as an apprentice. My father taught him basic and advanced alchemy before the general left for the military.”

There was clearly more to the story, but she also obviously wasn’t going to share it. Eyes shifted over to Mustang.

“I was here for many years, but her father didn’t approve of me leaving to join the military and kicked me out. I only returned when I learned that Master Hawkeye was dying. After that, I returned to the military. But, if your question is, did Hawkeye and I grow up together, I’d have to say that yes, for a good portion of our childhoods we did.”

It was clear from his redirection that he considered the questions on the rest of it closed. It was also clear that there was a lot more to the story. But why they weren’t saying more, well, that wasn’t nearly as clear. Havoc had been satisfied last time with the little knowledge he was left with. But now? He had the feeling that he was going to end up learning more than he had the first time around.

He just hoped it was in a better manner then his last visit here.

With the topic clearly closed, the team got back to work, and, under Hawkeye’s clear direction, it wasn’t long before the house was clean to her satisfaction. With the fire blazing in the living room, making it the warmest in the house, they all took a break in there. Fuery headed straight to the radio to mess with it, clearly giving it a look over.

“It’s not very good,” Hawkeye said as she sat down. Hayate woke up enough to pad over to her and paw at her for attention. “Father wasn’t much for spending money, or for the radio.” She reached down to give Hayate some attention.

“Are you kidding, sir?” Fuery said. “It’s a beauty! It old, but I bet I can make it work again—with your permission, sir.”

Hawkeye gestured at it. “Go ahead. If you can make it receive better, I’m all for it.”

“You said your father didn’t like the radio,” Falman said. “May I ask why?”

Riza reached down and picked up Hayate, bringing him up onto the couch with her. “He never really told me. He didn’t really talk to me. But I think it was because the music reminded him of mother, and he didn’t want that.”

“What happened to your mother?” Falman asked, and Havoc listened with interest.

“She died,” Hawkeye said, “when I was young. I don’t really remember her, aside from associations of brightness, warmth, and color. I know she taught me a lot, because I have some early memories where I was thinking ‘that’s how Mother did it,’ but I don’t actually remember her teaching me. But Father didn’t want much that reminded him of her, so no music.”

Havoc looked at Hawkeye, and he couldn’t help but wonder about her statement that her father “didn’t want much that reminded him” of her mother. He wanted to ask, “did that mean you too?” but he didn’t feel like he should ask that, and so he didn’t.

But the question lingered in the back of his mind.

The day had been a long one and, even with a moment to rest, there was still more to do. They had been either traveling or busy most of the day, and the dinner hour was nearing. All of them were hungry and, after some time to rest, Hawkeye stood up.

“I should start supper,” she said. “It’ll require more prep time to feed this many mouths.”

“I’ll give you a hand,” Havoc said, and went to push up, only to stop with a wince as pain flashed through his lower back.

“Hav?” Breda said, concern in his voice.

Havoc gave him a strained smile. “Ah, it’s nothing. Weather’s just been affecting me.”

Hawkeye was frowning at him. “You’ve done a lot today too. Maybe you should just rest.”

“Yeah, but you need some help. And we know the General is of no use.”

Mustang muttered something under his breath, but Breda stood up. “You’re not the only one that can at least peel a potato, Hav,” he said.

“I can help too,” Falman volunteered.

“If you need me, I can as well,” Fuery said, although it was clear that he really wanted to stay working on the radio.

“No, you’re good, Fuery,” Hawkeye said. “These two should be good enough. Too many cooks spoil the pot and all of that.”

Havoc could see Fuery blinking at her in surprise, obviously not expecting a phrase that had a more country flair to come out of her mouth but nodded anyway. “Alright, thank you, sir,” he said, and turned his attention back to the radio.

Havoc watched them leave, and then turned and stretched himself out on the couch. It felt good to put his legs up. He watched as Mustang left, and then came back with a book in is hands. The house fell quiet, except for the sound of the falling rain, the crackling of the fire, and the muffled voices from the kitchen. Havoc closed his eyes, listening. He was just starting to relax when he felt something wet gently shove into his arm. Startled he opened his eyes to see Hayate staring at him. He let out a breath.

“Alright, pooch, come on up,” he said, patting his belly.

The little dog hopped up onto the couch with him and settled down on top of him. Havoc put a hand on him, lightly petting him for a few moments, and then little dog closed its eyes. Havoc decided to follow suit, hoping that the pains in his legs would die down soon.

It was actually kind of nice like this, with the quiet sounds, and Havoc’s mind drifted while he laid there. It was a lot different than the last time he was here. That time Mustang and Hawkeye had been angry at each other, dangerously so. If a few missteps had been made, he was pretty sure that there would have been irreparable damage done to their relationship. But, after a breakdown from Riza and an attempt at an apology gesture from Roy, they had reconciled, which had made the last two days of the trip more bearable, at least.

The whole trip had left him with lots of questions, though. Hawkeye had grown up here with her father, and with Mustang for a bit. So why were they so formal with each other? Why didn’t they let it be known that they were childhood friends? And then there was the fact that Hawkeye’s father was Mustang’s alchemy teacher. Neither had said anything about flame alchemy. In fact, the one time he had tried to bring it up, Hawkeye had abruptly exited that conversation, and Mustang had been unwilling to go further. But it still begged the question: Where had Mustang learned flame alchemy from and did Riza’s father have anything to do with it?

There were other questions as well. Things that Hawkeye did, or stories she told that made him wonder about the kind of life she had. The way she had spent a lot of her childhood hunting. That she had bathed at the pond on her property quite a bit. The way that she saved everything, even the smallest bits. All of the things in the house that had been sold to help with upkeep and bills. The lack of modern conveniences. The stories that Riza told about places she had slept, or time spent outside, or about the “first thrashing” she had gotten from her father or the anger he would show. All of that ran through the back of his mind as he laid there.

He honestly didn’t know if he should be concerned about protecting her past, or if he should be interested in learning more of it. Either way, Havoc was pretty certain that he was going to end up finding out more about her.

Havoc just hoped that it wasn’t as painful as last time.

The afternoon and night were spent fairly peacefully, with supper being eaten, the kitchen being cleaned, and all of their uniforms being put in the wash tub to soak. Tomorrow would be the day to deal with that more directly. Tonight, they were all tired.

Riza gave them permission to all the rooms on the bottom floor, including the library, much to Falman’s delight. She barred them from the basement, though, and the study on the second floor. It was curious, but no one really questioned it, although Havoc couldn’t help but draw parallels from the last time they were here. They were too tired to bother questioning it, though, and besides, Riza Hawkeye never did anything without a good reason.

Rooming arrangements were discussed. There were, technically, four bedrooms. But it was clear that the idea of someone in her father’s old bedroom was difficult for Riza. So instead, they agreed to share the other three bedrooms. Falman and Fuery took the bedroom that Havoc had been in last time, and Havoc and Breda took the one that had been Roy’s. There was an awkward moment where Hawkeye and Mustang discussed Mustang sleeping in the master bedroom, at least until Breda threw a blanket at them.

“Just go share a bed,” he said. “It’s not like you haven’t shared a tent before on missions. This isn’t different.”

With that it was settled, and they went into Hawkeyes’ old room together.

“Just so you know,” Havoc told Mustang before he went into the room, “the bed squeaks. I heard it the last time I was here.”

Mustang gave him a shove and slammed the door in his face, and Havoc laughed, making his way toward the room he was sharing with Breda to hopefully sleep.

#FMA Big Bang 2021 #fullmetal alchemist Big Bang 2021 #Fullmetal Alchemist #fma #royai #riza hawkeye #Roy Mustang #Heymans Breda #Vato Falman #Kain Fuery #black hayate #fan fiction #fanfic

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bellaslilpapercut · 3 years

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Eclipse reread part 2! This is gonna cover a lot of chapters because I forgot to include stuff from chapters 4, 5, and 6 in part 1 (in my defense your honor, this book is very grating to read). Awayyy we go:

1. so chapters 4-6 really could have been one chapter tbh since the plot is: Bella ditches work at Newton’s Outfitters to hang with Jake and then writes some graduation invites with Angela. She pushes her rusty old behemoth as fast as it can go through driving rain but then hangs outside with Jake the whole time so I don’t really know where the rain went. She also manages to hear Jake gasp through her closed car door! Super sonic! Anyway, Bella insists that Edward is a good guy, Jake makes Bella hold his hand, Jake explains imprinting (yuck we can skip that), and then Edward drives threateningly past Bella while she’s on her way to Angela’s house. Angela reminds Bella that, at his core, Edward is a teen boy who is Totally Jealous of how Ripped and Sexy her 16 year old best friend is. Then Alice kidnaps Bella. Fun times!

2. During the imprinting convo it becomes very apparent that Meyer thinks the worst thing that can happen to a girl is getting broken up with. Somehow Leah got the “worst end” of the Sam/Emily/Leah fiasco despite Sam turning into a “monster” and Emily getting literally mauled in the face. What’s worse is later in the book, during the “Legends” chapter, when Bella wonders if Leah thinks Emily’s scars are a form of “justice.” Yea, Bella, that’s justice.

3. I love this Rosalie quote but hate the entirety of they way meyer writes her story. Others have mentioned it before but Meyer writes Rose's dialogue there as if Rose is an author and not like...a person telling a story. An easy fix would be to format Rosalie's story "flash back" style rather than have her narrate all the way through. Then you can include all the superfluous details of exactly what everyone's voice sounded like and all the excessive dialogue tags you want.

I also Violently Abhor this quote here:

Yea, meyer, the Hot Girl hates your self-insert because her stupid ass brother didn't have the hots for her. It just reads like weird middle school revenge fantasy "I only hated you because you were so Special!!!" Sure, sure. Also "all those females!" People don't talk like that @stephanie

4. I do love the scene when Bella “escapes” from Alice with Jake (I don’t know why i put escape in quotes, Alice could definitely murk Bella) but then that whole adventure ends with Jake telling Bella he’d rather she die than turn into a vampire. And yeah, fair buddy, but also you’ve known Bella for a long time. This should not be a surprise to you at all even a little bit. a) she mentioned it before, b) you knew she would never get over Edward even if your plan in NM had worked, and c) you’ve known that she’s fully obsessed with the Cullen’s since you started hanging out with her again. The last time you guys hung out she went on an impassioned rampage about how lovely and good and fantastic Edward is (footage not found) I really don’t know why you’re surprised that this hard-headed girl is prepared to commit to vampirism for him. She is not normal lmfao.

5. The legends chapter. Oh boy. Stephanie, Meyer, Smeyer. Honestly it might have been less offensive if she had just made up a whole new tribe to give these backstories to, for all that they have in common with real Quileute legends but actually that would still be offensive and terrible anyway. I don’t know how to describe this adequately but if you’ve ever seen G.I. Joe’s portrayal of indigenous people that’s exactly what meyer made Old Quil and Billy’s dialogue sound like. Just absolutely dripping with Mystical Native/ Magical Native trope from the content to the tone. https://mthg.org/ Because it can’t be plugged enough.

6. The legends chapter ends with this Wuthering Heights quote:

I have no qualms with it's inclusion, if you really want to push the Edward is Heathcliff and Bella is Cathy agenda, I don't believe it but fine, whatever. But those last two paragraphs are such a dumb way to end a chapter. Every chapter ending should make the reader want to turn the page: this makes me want to shut the book (actually I did take a long break after this lmfao). Anyway, just end the quote on "drank his blood," bold those three words, and end the chapter there. Don't go back and say "the three words that stood out were... Anyway it could have fallen to any page I believe in coincidence teehee!!" That's just annoying.

7. Okay guys I hate to say it but Edward does get a lil bit of ~character growth after the first few chapters. He comes home after having Bella kidnapped (she decides not to be angry, surprise surprise) and is all "so I've been thinking about it and you're right my Beloved Angel Face or whatever, please hang out with Jacob but also wear a helmet on your motorcycle my Beloved Dumb Idiot or whatever" (paraphrase). And he also says this in chapter 12:

Which is like, man I hate when I agree with Edward but I agree with Edward here. Now I know from MS that he only wants Bella to stay human because he's creating an Unfolding Drama in his head but this bit of dialogue is really sweet. And it's funny that he thought Bella didn't want to marry him because she just wanted to use him for immortality but it's also a Dark Reminder that he's literally only romantic with her because he can't read her mind and can't tell that she's just as obsessed with his looks as the other Teen Girls TM.

8. uuuh Jasper’s Backstory Time. This is so infuriating to read for so many reasons. So we know that smeyer got Jasper’s name from a confederate memorial/ listing (from a New Moon Q&A but the link isn’t secure so I can’t share) so I know that his backstory was always meant to be Confederate Soldier which makes everything else about his characterization just baffling. Again, he was the only Cullen that was genuinely kind to Bella besides Carlisle for the entire first book and he’s still incredibly kind during Eclipse (which is another issue I have though because no one mentions again that Jasper tried to eat Bella and they stand close to each other and hang out and Bella’s never like “this is scary, this dude tried to kill me” but i digress). The point is: smeyer knew he was going to be a confederate from book 1. She never addresses that this was bad, she never has Jasper mention that he regrets his role in the war, he is the only Cullen that’s actually capable of empathizing with humans anymore (Carlisle cares but I would not categorize him as empathetic), it just... None of these pieces fit together. This is a fraught and bloody history that smeyer throws in with no thought to how it might alienate black readers (though tbh she constantly emphasizes “white beauty” throughout the series so I doubt she cares) and the editors don’t question it either. No one, at any point in time, said “Hey, steph, you know confederates fought for slavery, right?” Every black american deserves reparations. White women and men who glorify the civil war should be the first to pay up.

9. I’m gonna jump back to chapters 9 & 10 here (target & scent, respectively) to say: no tension is being effectively built. I get it, someone stole your clothes. You’re annoyed because you have nothing to wear and Victoria is scary. But where is she? Where is the volturi? Move it along, please! This is one of the challenges of 1st person narrative because the author is stuck in the eyes of, usually, the person who knows the least. Meyer is not a talented enough author to make this interesting. Not to bring up THG again but Suzanne Collins really knew how to work 1st person. Everything that Katniss asserts with certainty throughout the series gets either confirmed or denied by the narrative, keeping it interesting. She assumes the worst of the people around her so we’re pleasantly surprised when people violate those assumptions. We’re kept on edge by how little Katniss knows and SC never gifts Katniss with more knowledge than she could be expected to have. Bella is constantly gifted with knowledge and her assumptions are rarely proven wrong. You can dig into the canon a little bit more, read the lexicon and the guide, and find all the examples of Bella being unreliable or making wrong assumptions. But within the narrative she is rarely incorrect. She doesn’t get opportunities to grow out of her false assumptions (while Edward does, at least in Eclipse). So to keep the Victoria debacle interesting, smeyer has to plant seeds like- during these two chapters- Bella thinking of Laurent and Victoria while the cullens discuss who could have been in Bella’s room. That just doesn’t cut it for me.

This is hella long and I’m only halfway through the book. I probably should split the second half into two parts as well but based on how talented smeyer is at stretching out the mundane, especially just before the climax, I probably wont need to.

#eclipse reread #saga reread #the twilight saga #twilight meta #twilight renaissance #long post

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whack-ed · 4 years

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Between (Fred Weasley x Slytherin Reader!) Part 1

PART 2

Synopsis: Y/N Y/L/N never quite understood why all these things always happen to her. Nobody understood why she was put in Slytherin. But in her fifth year at Hogwarts, many things were cleared up. Your parents, your friends and also, that one should not be named, all these things explained the why. Her blood was stained, but she could not disagree more with the philosophies that made it like this. Between blood and love. Y/N had to make a choice.

Warnings: agnsty; mentions of death; sad reader.

Reader: Female

Words Count: 1.5k

Author's Notes: Am I doing my first imagine? You bet I am. This plot was from a fiction that I wrote on wattpad, but I decided to turn it into a imagine here on tumblr. The idea of this imagine is that it has some chapters, so if you want to be taged in the next chapters, comment "i solemnly swear that i am up to no good" here. Also, and also, the names of your family members are fixed. So let's go to the history.

It was a rainy sunday morning at the Y/L/N family mansion. The house was known to many in the magical world. There had never been an owner who was not a family wizard, the mansion was always passed down from generation to generation, there is no Y/L/N who had not lived under this enormous roof. It is a typical English mansion, made of stones in dark brown tones, with three floors (visible to the naked eye, at least), small trees symmetrically cut to follow the same straight lines as the mansion, filled the front garden and, a considerably large staircase leading up to the huge entrance door. Y/N never really liked the place, she thought it was too big and not very welcoming, especially now. As much as the house was always full of relatives and employees, to the girl it always seemed very empty.

Y/N grew up inside the Y/L/N mansion, along with all her family members who lived there, she detested most of them, especially her parents. They had an obsession with blood purity and maintaining the family's reputation. She did not agree at all with the philosophy of her parents, and the rest of the family. The only person she had ever been able to talk to, the only person who really understood her, was her paternal grandmother. Harriet Y/L/N was a very friendly lady, with a wide nose and a small smile, very delicate blue eyes. Mrs. Harriet, or as she likes to be called, Grandma Harriet, did not match the layout of the mansion. She was always wearing loose white clothes and a witch hat adapted for those who care for plants, Y/N reminded of the hat that Professor Sprout wore. Everyone in the house always saw Grandma Harriet as a basketcase, thought she was crazy, but Y/N always thought she was the wisest person in the family.

Despite the presence of her grandmother, the year that ended was not easy for Y/N. She had finished her fourth year at Hogwarts, together with the Triwizard Tournament, and also with Cedric Diggory, who was to be her best friend. After the unfortunate event, the information that the Dark Lord had returned came as a bonus. Many said that Harry Potter was lying and that Dumbledore had gone mad. How Y/N wanted these people to be right. She, more than anyone, knew that the Dark Lord had indeed returned, and her family ... She would rather not even think about it. All the girl did during the winter break was to advance reading the fifth year books, so she could even for a moment forget everything that happened and everything that was going to happen. He exchanged letters with his friends too, including Draco Malfoy. Draco's family was very friendly with Y/N's family, as they shared the same ideals. Although Y/N thought completely different from Draco, the two had a great friendship. They were in the same house at Hogwarts, they were the same age, and despite their regrets, they had a good laugh together when it came to making fun of teachers.

- Daughter, dinner is ready. - Said Eva, her mother, when opening the door to her room.

Y/N was lying on her bed reading a letter she would receive from Draco in a few minutes. The boy was just saying that he was about to go crazy, as the climate inside his house was getting heavier and heavier. Y/N knew, and so did Draco, where all of this was going to take him, all these meetings at the Malfoys' house, was not a good thing.

- Letter from whom? - Asked his mother entering the room.

- Draco - Y/N replied without taking her eyes off the letter.

- Draco? I like his family a lot, I'm glad you are friends, he ... - Said the woman standing in front of him looking directly at a photo in which Y/N was with Hermione Granger. She hated the fact that her daughter was a friend of a mudblood. - It's a good influence for you.

- Yeah, I agree with half of what you said - Y/N said finally looking at her mother, with a sinus smile on her face.

The rest of the night spent slowly at the Y/L/N house. Y/N couldn't bear to hear the prejudiced comments from Klaus and Hanz, her uncles. Usually whenever the girl thought about saying something, her mother looked at her with an explicit disapproving look. But lately, even that the girl was not doing, she was quiet, something in her will fade. Since Cedric died she had not argued once with her uncles and cousins, which was the custom for a girl. Everyone had noticed the difference, but no one dared to say anything, they preferred it that way.

At the dinner table her father, Petrus, commented on the change in the Hogwarts faculty, that Dumbledore was a scum, that it was absurd that no one had done anything about it yet. Nothing new to everyone at the table. As soon as dinner was over, everyone went to their corner of the house, and before Y/N could go up to her room with a jar of caramels, the doorbell rang. As she was closer to the door, she went to answer it before Pugsley, one of the mansion's house elves, did so.

- Okay Pugsley, I tell my dad that you were busy polishing his shoes, he won't be bothered by that, will he? - The girl laughed.

- Thank you my mistress - The elf smiled making a short bow - You are the cool soul of this house.

- Coolest, Pusgley, coolest soul of this house. We need to improve your vocabulary huh, I'll help you later. Now, I need to answer before someone sees us, you better go.

And so the Elf went to enjoy the rest of the night somewhere, until he was asked again.

Y/N opened the door and was surprised, she just couldn't tell if it was good or bad. In front of him were Lucio, Narcissa and none other than Draco Malfoy. The girl smiled when she saw the boy.

- Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, what a surprise to see you. - He smiled politely at the couple in front of him, pretending the best he can. - Draco - He nodded and gave a half smile. - Come on in - Y/N gave the couple and their son a ticket to their mansion.

- Very good to see you Y/N, you are more beautiful every day - Narcissa said sympathetically.

Lucio was about to say something to Y/N when Petrus arrived against the couple, greeting them like the great friends they are. If the friendship of the two families was not based on horrible concepts, they would even look like nice people. Draco's parents were accompanied by Y/N's parents to the living room to talk. The boy stayed behind with Y/N.

- Hey. How are you? - Draco said with a loose smile on his face, he knew his friend was not doing well.

Y/N didn't say a word, just indicated for stairs and the two went up to the girl's room. Once there, Y/N closed the door and simply burst into tears while hugging his friend. She had been holding them for almost a month. Draco could be insensitive to many people, but with Y/N it was different, he really cared about the girl. As much as he didn't like her friends, including Cedric, he would never deny her a hug of comfort. And deep down, even though he didn't want to admit it, Draco wanted that hug to last forever.

While Draco and Y/N were in an affectionate and personal moment up the stairs, their parents had other plans for this meeting.

- So you really saw him, Lucio? Petrus asked the blond man in front of him, pouring him a glass of whiskey.

- Yes, he is stronger than ever, he thanked me for being one of the only ones to be on his side, it was an honor - Lucio replied, even though he knew it had not been so.

- Merlin! It must have been wonderful - Eva said with a smile on her face.

- And as it was, finally after years of waiting he finally came back. I can't stand to see Hogwarts in that state anymore, full of ... wizards of an impure lineage. Teaching that we can mix, what will become of our race in this way? - Lucio commented with disgust in his voice.

- Don't even tell me, every day I have more problems with Y/N, she insists that we can mix with these people. But I know she says it out loud, we created it so well, it's just a phase - Eva said, wanting to believe her own words.

- When the time comes, she'll have to make a choice, you know that don't you, Petrus? - Said Narcissa sitting like a lady on the dark sofa in front of the fireplace.

- Yes. And certainly she chose the family, I have no doubt that she will be a great diner - Firmed Petrus.

The truth is that none of the four adults there believed in it very much, but none of them would have the audacity to speak out loud, that perhaps, when the time came, Y/N would be a traitor to her own blood.

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley smut #fred weasley x reader #weasley #draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #harry potter #harry potter imagine #imagine #x reader #hogwarts #malfoy #wizard #fanfic #wealeys twins #slytherin #girl #slytherin reader

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jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets · 3 years

Text

I Loved Him... Once - CH 5

Title: I Loved Him… Once

Author: jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Heid (Aaron Hotchner x Spencer Reid)

Rating: This ones General but eventually as the series goes it will be Explicit

Tags: canon typical violence and gore, eventual smut as the series goes, angst, fluff, pining, its gunna be a slow burn guys.

Summary: A series following the team as they solve crimes and take down the bad guys.

In Part one of this series, we follow the team as they take down a serial killer that has taken a piece of one of their own. And through it all, Spencer and Hotch come to a few conclusions and realizations of their own.

AO3

Masterlist

*** My works are not to be posted on any sites without my permission! But comments and reblogs are love! <3 Please and thanks!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 5

"Anything?" Dave asked as they joined the rest of the team in the conference room.

Aaron shook his head, "No DNA or any other evidence left behind, same as the others. How is the geographical profile coming along?"

Dave walked over to the white board with Aaron and Spencer. There were four red pins stuck into the map with a series of circles, all coming together in the center. “We've narrowed it down to this area here,” Dave pointed to the point where the circles connected, “his comfort zone isn't very large, but it's still far too large to just go around knocking on doors.”

“Do we have any form of a profile?” JJ walked over, standing beside Spencer with her arms crossed, “Aside from knowing that he's organized, revenge driven, and possibly done with his list, we don't have much more to go on.”

“Unfortunately not,” Aaron walked over to the table and caught Derek's attention, “call Garcia, put her on speaker.”

He dialed, placed his phone on the table, and after a few rings she answered, “Magical mistress of pleasure, what services can I offer you today?”

“Baby girl,” Derek crooned, “behave, you're on speaker.”

“Oh you're no fun!” She whined, but then asked, “What can I help you guys with?”

Aaron leaned on both hands on the table and towards the phone, “Have you found anything that connects our victims, Garcia?”

“Still nothing, oh fearless leader.” They all sighed. “I mean, they lived in the same city, sure, but none of them even went to the same grocery store or gas station. They seem to be just random victims. But that's weird right? I’m not a profiler, but there's usually always something that connects the victims and murders somehow, right?”

“Yeah, you're right, baby girl,” Derek ran a tired hand down his face and slapped it down on the table, “we'll call you back if we have anything that can help you in your digging.”

“Right, tahtah for now my beautiful flowers-”

“Garcia, wait.” Aaron stopped her before she could leave.

“Present, Sir. Is there something I can help you with?”

Aaron took a moment to look over to the still very quiet Spencer. He was still standing at the back of the room by the white board, hands in his pockets, and eyes fixed on Aaron. And he could tell just by the look in his eyes, Spencer knew what he was about to say, so he gave Aaron a barely noticeable nod before he turned back to the phone. “Yes, actually. I'd like you to speak with Reid about our last victim. He might be able to give you more insight that could help with your searching.”

“Why's that, Sir?”

“Because I knew him.”

Everyone fell silent, including Garcia, to the point where Aaron wasn't sure if they had lost their connection. “Oh, honey, I'm so sorry.”

Spencer didn't reply, just put his head down, so Aaron spoke, “I'd like Reid to tell you as much as he can about him and maybe we can find a missing link there.”

“Is… is he okay to do that? Losing someone is never easy, and if he's not ready to talk about him then I’m sure I can do this myself, I mean, I don't want to make Spencer uncomfortable or upset anymore then I’m sure he already is, Sir, and I-”

“Garcia,” Spencer cut in as he took a few steps closer to the table, stopping her mini rant, “it’s fine.”

“Sweetie, are you sure? I mean, really, really sure? Cuz I can dig my heels in and wave my magic wand and you know I will eventually find the things that people do not want me to find.”

“I'm sure,” he smiled a bit, it was nice to have someone looking out for his feelings, “I'll tell you everything I know.”

“Okay…” She breathed into the phone, “Okay, whenever you're ready.”

Spencer took a breath and looked around the room. Suddenly all eyes were on him, and as much as he loved his team, his family, he wasn't sure he was ready for an audience. It was one thing to talk to Aaron, and another to talk to Garcia to help the case along, but in front of everyone all at once…

“Give us a moment, Garcia,” Aaron stood and motioned for Spencer to come with him, and made his way towards the door, “I'm going to take Reid into another room, I'll call you from my cell when we're settled,” and they were gone.

“What do you think that's all about?” Derek asked, brows furrowed and a hint of worry in his voice. “Is there something we can’t know? Is the kid caught up in something here?”

“Lover, I'm sure it's fine,” Garcia was still on the line, “talking about these things isn't easy, you know, maybe Hotch just wanted to give Reid some space.”

“You don't think he's giving him a hard time do you?”

“I think you're going in the wrong direction,” Dave moved to sit beside Derek, a small smirk playing on his lips, “I’m certain this doesn't have anything to do with Aaron giving Reid a hard time. Just let them play this out.”

“Play what out?” Derek raised a brow and looked around the room, finding nothing but more confused and concerned faces. “What's going on?”

“More than you know, kid.” And David just left it at that, but of course Derek was not satisfied with that vague answer.

“That's our man calling on the other line,” Garcia said, getting Derek's attention again, “gotta go, lover. I'll make sure he's good, promise.” And she was gone, leaving Derek to think through what could possibly be going on in the other room, and worrying about Spencer alone with their boss.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Spencer entered a smaller room on the other side of the station with Aaron, who closed the door behind them and shut the blinds. He gestured for Spencer to sit at the table, pulling out his phone and placing it in front of him, “I know this is going to be hard,” he began, standing beside Spencer, “but I want you to tell Garcia as much as you can about Eric. Start from the beginning, where you both went to school, anything you know prior to your meeting, and as much as you can about his personal life. Maybe something you say can help Garcia find something to help us catch a break in this case.”

He nodded, looking down at the phone and watching as Aaron dialed her number. “I'll give you some privacy.”

He turned to leave, but Spencer reached out quickly and grabbed his arm to stop him, “I'd rather you stayed… if you don't mind.”

“Of course.” He turned and sat back down and Spencer immediately moved his hands from Aaron’s arm to hold his hand, pulling it over into his lap to play with his fingers again. It was becoming somewhat of a comfort for Spencer, and Aaron wasn't going to stop him.

The phone rang a few more times then before, and the bowling ball in his stomach seemed to sink further and heavier as they waited for her to finally answer, “I’m here.” Her soft voice soothed Spencer a little. “Are you ready, Reid?”

“Yeah, I'm ready,” he squeezed Aaron’s hand as he prepared himself, “I'll just start from the beginning then.”

“Yeah, honey, yeah. You just… you start wherever you feel comfortable.”

He took a few calming breaths, holding Aaron’s hand even tighter, then started, “His name was Eric Watts, we met at Caltech. I was working on my first doctorate and he was a third year math student. I don't know much about his past, except that he was an only child and was orphaned at the age of six. His parents died in a car accident and he had no other family, so he was filtered through the foster system until he was eighteen.”

“Good, good, this is good. Keep going if you can.”

“We both spent a few more years in university after we first met, then I got an offer from the BAU and Eric got a job offer in California, at some financial company, but I don't know the name, I… I never asked….” He trailed off.

“You okay? And you're doing great by the way.”

“I’m okay, I just,” he trailed off again, thinking back on everything he knew about Eric, which now that he was put on the spot about it wasnt really much, “now that I'm thinking about it, I don't really know too much about Eric's personal life. We never really spoke about stuff like that.”

“That's okay, whatever you can’t tell me I'm sure I can fill in the rest. Is there anything else?”

He thought back, “I know he was never married, no kids, no other family. He's never been in any kind of trouble, worked the same job since we graduated, I… I don't know how he could have possibly gotten himself into something like this.”

“I promise you I will do everything I can to figure this out, Reid.”

“Thanks, Garcia,” he sniffled, using his free hand to wipe at the tears that had snuck up on him, “if I think of anything else that might help, I'll call you.”

“Alright, let me go work my magic. Warrior goddess, out.”

They sat there for a while, Spencer still holding Aaron’s hand until he was able to calm himself back down, and Aaron let him take as much time as he needed. Eventually he stood, pulling Aaron up with him and towards the door. “We should probably try and get a profile together, at least something to help the Sheriff and his officers in their search.”

“If you're ready.”

He stopped at the door and turned back to Aaron. He pulled him into another crushing hug, holding him as close as he could for as long as he could, reveling in the feeling of Aaron’s hands moving up and down his back, before he pulled back, “Now I'm ready. Let's go give a profile.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

The officers sat in front of them while the agents occupied the front of the room. This used to be something Spencer hated. Standing in front of people, other officers, and giving a profile. But now he enjoyed it, he enjoyed sharing his knowledge with the officers and detectives so that they could bring down the unsubs together.

His team mates around him all said their parts, then it was his turn. And this profile, if any, meant more than any of the others. They had to get this right, they had to find and take down this unsub.

He shifted where he sat on one of the tables, and leaned forwards a little as he spoke to the officers, "We believe this unsub to be extremely organized, highly intelligent, and on a path of revenge. They are not delusional however, but rather extremely focused and mission oriented. If you come face to face with this unsub it is very unlikely you will be able to talk him down, and more likely that you will become his next victim."

"We suggest if you do meet this unsub to please take cover where you can and call us for backup," Aaron came to stand directly beside Spencer, leaning his hand on the table beside his leg, providing him a small amount of comfort through the light touch. "And be advised that if cornered, this unsub will become extremely aggressive, even more so than he already is. Please, proceed with caution and if you find anything call us immediately. Good luck."

The officers filled out, ready and armed now with a profile to help them catch this killer. Derek came in just as the officers were leaving, and waved them all back into the conference room.

Once inside he closed the door and motioned to the phone in the middle of the table, "Hey, baby girl, they're all here, go ahead."

"So I was doing some deep diving through the lives of our victims and… I found something, a few something's actually."

"About Eric?" Spencer moved closer, sitting in a chair.

"Oh, honey," she began, her voice soft and quiet again, "I don't… I don't think you should hear this."

"I… I have to."

"Reid, you should have good memories of your friend. I don't think you need to hear this."

"I'm fine, Garcia. I need to hear this." He snapped a little, moving closer to the table.

"If you're sure…" She trailed off, giving him a second to think and change his mind, but when she was met with silence she took that for the answer it was. "Okay then. So, I was emailed a copy of the newest coroner's report, as well as the sheriff's report on his findings and, well, something didn't add up."

Everyone waited, still silent, but all eyes were on Spencer.

"Reid, you told me that his name was Eric Watts, but the report that the sheriff sent me has the name Mason Maddox on the file. There was a copy of the ID that the sheriff found through the database when the coroner scanned his prints. And so when I went deep dive I discovered that Eric Watts doesn't actually exist."

"What do you mean?" Spencer asked, brows furrowed as he stared at the phone on the table, taking a seat, "Garcia, I've known him for years. Eric Watts very much does exist."

"Honey, I'm telling you, he doesn't. His real name is Mason Maddox, and Eric Watts was a fake identity he made to try and cover up a very dark past."

"That's.. that's impossible. I've known him since university, he was twenty-one when we met, are you telling me he's been lying to me this whole time?"

"Yes, Reid, that's exactly what I'm saying."

"I… he can't…" He leaned forward, placing his head in his hands and covering his face as she went on.

"When I dug into his past, not his past as Eric but his past as Mason, before he met you sweetie he was into a lot of very bad things. He even spent five years in prison."

"Baby, how could he have spent five years in prison before meeting Spencer," Derek asked, clearly doing the math in his head, "he would have been under age when he was convicted."

"Yeah, he lied about his age too. He lied about everything."

"What did he serve the five years for?" Emily joined in now, seeing Spencer was too far gone at this moment to even think about asking questions.

"When he was younger he had a myriad of charges that were eventually all dropped. Breaking and entering, petty theft, and then all of a sudden he jumped right on up into assault with a weapon."

"What happened?" JJ asked this time.

"He nearly killed the guy, said he did it out of self defense but there was never any evidence to prove so. But he served his five years with no issues, not even one night in solitary. Then suddenly Mason Maddox just drops off the face of the Earth and that's when Eric Watts appears. With his new identity he got a job, moved to California, enrolled in school, and that's when he met you, Reid. But… there's more."

Aaron stepped forward then, placing a subtle soothing hand on Spencer's back where no one could see and asked, "What else, Garcia?"

"Your other victims, they aren't who their ID's say they are either. Who we originally thought were Karl Jennings, Adam Knoxs, and Joe Marsden, are actually Trevor O'Connell, Hayden Marletto, and Reese Runge. And when I searched the pasts of the real victims, I discovered that they actually are all connected.”

“Prison?” Emily assumed.

“Bingo, my fair maiden. All of them, including who we now know to be Mason Maddox, were in the same prison together over the same five year period, two of them even sharing a cell.”

“Did the other two share a cell with anyone, baby girl?”

“Yes, Trevor and Hayden shared a cell with each other, Reese shared with someone named George Yurish, and Mason shared with a one Tyler Prince.”

“What were the two cell mates in for, Garcia?” Hotch asked.

“Already on it, Sir.” They could hear her fingers furiously typing as she searched for the answer to his question. “George was in for arson and Tyler for, oh… multiple counts of murder. Apparently he was a part of one of the worst gangs in California, was a suspect in various different felonies, and was soon after caught red handed by California police dumping a body off the pier at night. After investigation they managed to connect him to at least three other murders. He was released from prison a month ago, which was four days before the first murder of Trevor O’connell.”

“He sounds like our guy. Got out and the first thing on his mind was revenge,” JJ added, “but why? What did the other four victims do to him that caused this much rage?”

Derek nodded along with JJ then asked, “What were the other victims in for?”

“Money laundering, fraud, and theft. Nothing even close to murder, so why did this guy kill his friends from prison?”

“None of this makes any sense,” Derek shook his head, “five guys meet in prison, one guy gets out years later and kills them all, and none of the victims even come close to matching the level of aggression needed to have been involved with a murderer. Why all of a sudden go after these men?"

“Garcia, send us the addresses of all the victims and Tyler Prince. Maybe our missing answers will be waiting for us there,” then he turned to the rest of the team and said, “Emily, JJ, you go to the houses of the first two victims, Derek and Rossi take the last two, Reid you're with me, were going to pay Tyler a visit.”

“The addresses are already sent to you, good luck and be safe my loves.”

The team started gathering their things to leave, but Aaron noticed that Spencer was still sitting at the table with his head down.

“Reid?” Aaron moved a little closer to his chair, but Spencer did not move, “We have to move, Reid.”

“I…” He finally looked up and stood abruptly, “I need a minute, excuse me.”

He quickly pushed through the rest of the team standing at the door watching with worried eyes, and practically ran out of the station. Derek grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and started after him, but Aaron moved first this time, holding a hand up to Derek and stopping him in his tracks. He then headed out almost as fast as Spencer and followed his path around the side of the building.

Derek stood in the middle of the conference room, looking both a little hurt and angered that Aaron had stopped him the way he had. He cared about Spencer and was worried that not only was this case hitting him hard, but also that Aaron was making it worse. “What the hell was that?!”

“Derek, don't worry so much-”

“Don't worry so much?! Rossi,” He threw his hands up in frustration, getting angrier by the second, “not only am I worried about Reid because he just lost a friend and found out that he has been lied to for years by someone he considered close, but if you haven't noticed, since we found out he knew the victim, Hotch has not left his side for more than ten seconds. He keeps hovering over him, watching him, following him, he even came to our room last night to talk to Reid. He can still do his job, Rossi! I know he lost a friend and that’s hard, but he can still see this case through and catch this son of a bitch!”

David held his hands up in a calming motion with a small smile on his face, “Derek, easy, this is not what you think.”

“Then what is it?!”

“Reid can still do his job, we all know that. And as for Aaron, he knows that too, more than anyone. So just let this be, alright. Reid is fine and I promise you Aaron is not giving him a hard time.”

Derek eyed him, obviously still not convinced, “Yeah, well, I'm gonna keep my eye on that anyway,” and then he left the room to head out on his assignment.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Aaron ran around the side of the building where he had seen Spencer go, and sure enough he found him there looking as miserable as he had expected. He stopped short of him, watching him violently rub the palms of his hands into his eyes, before slowly walking over.

"Reid?"

He sucked in a sharp breath, wiping his eyes before answering, "I'm fine."

"Reid, you're not," he placed a hand on his shoulder to turn him around. Now face to face he could see how red his eyes were, a little wet, and he didn't know if he could do anything to make it better. "Sit this one out, please, I hate seeing you like this."

"Hotch, I'm fine, I told you," he sighed, hard and long, "but I don't think I'm fine enough to go to the apartment of the man who might have killed Eric. If I could I'd… I'd like to go to Eric's instead, see what I can do there to help figure this out."

"Yeah, yeah of course," he nodded, placing his other hand on Reid's shoulder, "I'll switch you out with Rossi. And if you need anything while you're there, do not hesitate to call me. Anything.”

Spencer just nodded, then suddenly the weight of Aaron’s hands on his shoulders had become hypersensitive to him. His arms itched to wrap around what was now becoming Aaron’s familiar frame against his, and his fingers itched to dig into the fabric of the back of his jacket. He took a small, shuffling step forwards and said, “There is one thing-”

And before Spencer could even say anything more, Aaron was already closing the gap and pulling Spencer into his chest. He allowed them to stay like that for a few long minutes, since the tree line in the garden beside the station provided them cover from anyone who might be walking by. And Spencer did dig his fingers into Aaron’s jacket, and buried his face in his neck, breathing in his cologne and letting the scent slowly calm him. He also let himself fall into the soothing feeling of Aaron's hand at the small of his back, and the other rubbing his fingers into the nape of his neck, massaging his stress away.

Aaron let him cling to him until Spencer felt he was ready and pulled back muttering a quiet, “Thanks.'' Aaron was more than happy to be there for him anytime he needed, and he let him know as much before leading them out to the cars, informing David of the change and watching Spencer leave with Derek. He had wanted to keep Spencer as close as possible, but if this was what he needed right now, then he would make sure to be there for him as soon as they were finished and back at the hotel. But for now, he had to focus and catch this bastard before he could do any more harm, and bring Spencer the closure he deserved.

~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry this is so late, but here is the next chapter as promised XDAnd I know I said there would be another Spencer and Aaron moment, and there is a small one, but the one I was actually talking about will be in the next chapter. This chapter was getting too long and I had to split it into two parts.

Also, the reason this is so late is because I was accepted into university today! And it only took me ten years after graduating high school, but I am finally here! And I didn't think I would even get in. I applied on a last minute whim and the program is super competitive, but I got it! So I spent a lot of my day today getting some things ready for that. And that being said, I might change this from a twice a week posting schedule to a once a week posting. That'll give me a little more time when school starts up in a few weeks to make sure I have updates ready for you guys.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know what you guys think <3

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omiscurls · 4 years

Text

all of me - sakusa kiyoomi x reader

eehee here i come with another sakusa fanfiction because I CAN and I WILL!

i know it’s bad no need to tell me

so the volleyball player to fall for today is, obviously: sakusa kiyoomi

and the word count: 3889

and the summary quote: If you'll ever see me acting like this idiot, it'll mean the world is ending.

and let's go!

You were completely bored. Like, totally, one hundred percent spiritless, sitting on the stands, and noting all the line ups the Itachiyama Academy's Volleyball Team tried, as they started to practice before nationals. You were already here for three hours, and they still didn't seem to be close to finishing, even though they still had plenty of time before the contest, and plenty of condifence in their own abilities, after all, they had both the best wing spiker, and the best libero in the country. As their manager, of course you knew that.

And yet still it appeared as if they didn't. They were still working overtime, though their coach already went home, you saw all of them upset and tired, but none of the players dared to tell captain Tsukasa it was already time to go home. How long are they going to overwork themselves, you though, until someone passes out?

"'Nee-chan!" Komori yelled, and you looked up from the sheet of paper you caught yourself doodling on, instead of noting. Were you his sister? No, but a childhood friend, so he reffered to you like that ever since you could recall.

"What's up, Toya?" you asked, leaning over the security bar to hear him better. Even from over there you saw him being all sweaty and obviously tired.

"Can you bring us our drinks, please? We don't have any time to waste" he requested, and you gladly nodded and started walking towards the locker room. It was finally something else than writing down everything they might need. You entered the room, and found the box with the watter bottles already set up there, relieved you didn't need to open any of these smelly boys' lockers.

You picked it up and left the room, stopping to lock the door behind you. The box was kinda heavy, but you didn't complain, since it was your only distraction from the overwhelmingly dull training session.

"Guys, have a break already, I brought drinks!" you shouted, smiling from ear to ear at the fact that someone is finally going to talk to you after three hours of sitting there alone.

In fact, you were so happy about it, you forgot one important detail, that you were on the court and they were still practicing.

You suddenly saw someone run right in front of you, as if he wanted to cover you, but he didnt make it on time, and the ball, approaching you with killer speed, hit you right on the head. You remember it hurting briefly, and then it all went dark.

"What the hell?" your childhood friend yelled, the rest of the team shocked upon seeing such a goofball upset. He looked over at the kid who was spiking, a first year, currently standing there and scratching his neck in embarassement, as the angry libero was killing him with his look.

But turns out he wasn't the angriest person in the room.

"I'm sorry" the boy mumbled, subconsciously hiding behind Tsukasa.

"As you should be!" the black haired boy yelled, getting down to his knees.

Ah yes, your another friend, Sakusa. He was Komori's cousin, but moved here much later than the libero, and even so, you didn't see him much before you went to the same high school. Motoya always said he was kind of shy, but you never noticed. If anything, he was confident about himself and even rude sometimes.

You never knew how they got along so well, but it was probably the same case as with many childhood friends - they got so used to each other, that they couldn't imagine a life where they're not friends, even though they were like fire and water. One was always happy and it was rare to see him without a smile painting his lips, and the other, well, it was even more exceptional for him to grin.

But at that moment, both the fire and the water were at unison, glaring deadly at everyone, as they kneeled beside you.

"Nee-chan? Can you hear me?" panic raised in his voice, as he got no response from you. "Nee-chan?! Kiyoomi, why isn't she answering?"

"Because she's unconscious, you idiot" he answered, but his attention was suddenly somewhere completely else, as he felt his captain's hand on his shoulder. He shivered, as he moved away, and the older boy kneeled down to you as well to guage the situation.

"Alright, let's not create fake crowd here. The team has a moment to rest, Komori, you stay with miss manager, and Sakusa, come get the nurse with me"

"Is the nurse still in office? It's really late" he complained, but got up instantly, and followed his older collegue."

Meanwhile Komori really didn't know what to do with you, so he just sat by your side and whined as if you were dead. The captain raised his eyebrow and looked at him with pity.

"You know what, Saku? You stay there, you're more composed than him." he told his spiker in a low voice. "Komori! I changed my mind, if you want to help, then come along" Upon hearing that, Motoya was hesitant, but eventually nodded and walked up to the captain.

Normally, Sakusa would ask if he really has to be the one to deal with the situation, but this time it was concerning you, so he walked over gladly, and picked you up, one hand supporting your back, and the other near our knees.

His heart beat like it was going to jump out, and he felt the need to be left alone constantly, already tired from practice, both physically and mentally, but realized he wouldn't have it any other way but to be the one to look after you.

He sat on the bench, and put your body over it, your head resting on his thighs, so it would be higher.

He felt the urge to run his fingers through your hair in a comforting manner, or at the very least squeeze your hand, let you know he was there waiting, but a sudden wave of doubts hit him, and he decided to stay still.

When you came back to your consciousness, the first thing you saw was his worried face. You freaked out, knowing how uncomfortable it made him, being this close to anybody, and tried to lift yourself back up, but your head hurted too much. You instantly went back down, but not because of the aching on your forehead, but because something forced you to, something being a strong arm.

"Stay still for a minute, would you?" your friend asked, a bit annoyed, but also concerned, from what you could read from his expression.

"What happened?" you asked in a faint voice, so weak, actually, that upon hearing it, he frowned and looked over at you.

"That included talking" he only added, but after a minute of silence, decided to explain "You got hit on the head with a volleyball by some idiot."

Hearing Sakusa speak, some of the first years came closer to look, including the one to blame for the whole situation.

"A-are you okay Y/N-san?" he asked quietly, and you nodded, but Sakusa waved his hand as if he was whisking away an annoying fly.

"Back off, idiots, let the damn girl rest" he growled, rolling his eyes. Truth be told, he was just trying to get them away from himself, because he started to feel uncomfortable having all of them looking down at him, but conveniently, you were now his shield. "If you're all so energetic, then come back to training, we still suck at blocking with the new rotation."

Then he noticed, that all the second and third years were already back at training, so the ones that were left were only the newbies.

Maybe one or two of them will get a place in the game, one in a starting line up, some will become pinch servers, but for them, this year was just a trial run of Itachiyama's discipline, before they get to the first squad eventually, or maybe never.

"Why aren't you training then, Sakusa-san?" one of them got the courage to say, before getting absolutely slain by his irritated eyes.

"Because I don't suck at blocking" he bit back harshly, and relaxed a bit on his chair, a newly found confidenve flowing through him after the burn he just did.

They all went silent for a second, and went back to training with disappointed looks on their face, mumbling something about their ace being a douchebag.

He wasn't, though, he was always really respectful, even with his insults, but all it took was to push him just a tiny little bit over his edge, for him to get not salty, but straight up rude, as it was his defence mechanism for having his authority undermined in any way, or his personal space interrupted.

"You're an asshole" you whispered, your voice still kinda sleepy, as you were overall shaken, and your forehead kept pulsating like crazy.

"And you're mean but we don't talk about that, do we?" he replied, eyes fixed or something far in the distance, probably the holes and errors in someone's spikes, so he could later "give his honest opinion" and roast only the people who pissed him off. You laughed, but suddenly stopped, when you noticed your head hurting more. "How're you feeling?" he suddenly asked very gently and softly, his whole expression changing when he looked you in the eyes, and then quickly faced away.

"My head hurts" you complained, and he chuckled.

"Yeah, well, I figured, they all have some strenght in their arms here, you know?"

"Why show it off on my head?" you whined, and he gave you a slightly condesending look.

"Well, he was practicing, and you weren't supposed to be on the court"

"You're saying this is my fault?" you wanted to get up and show your irritation, but he shook his head with a slight smile, and pulled you back to your previous position.

"Which part of resting didn't you understand, stop moving so much. And no, of course it wasn't, if he did it like I asked him to, he wouldn't hit anything but the floor. You were on the very edge of the court, if he aimed it right, it wouldn't even come close to you"

"If he did like you asked, huh? Are you suddenly a teacher, Omi?" he faced away, feeling heat coming to his cheeks, he didn't want to risk you seeing him blush at the nickname he pretended so hard to hate.

"No, but I am considered a better spiker than him, so why wouldn't I be giving advice?"

"And to think Toya described you as shy and humble, before we met" you recalled a moment from almost five years before.

You and Komori were sitting on the bench, waiting for Sakusa to show up, because for weeks your friend was trying to get you two to meet each other.

"So how is he, Sakusa-san?" you asked, even though you've heard thousands of stories about him. From what you knew then, Sakusa was a shy teenage boy, who doesn't talk much and prefers hanging out outside, rather than inside malls or café's, is very nice and polite, and plays volleyball really well.

"I told you a million times already, are you THIS excited to meet him?"

"You wish" you said, grinning widely "I'm just curious"

"Well, if you start off by saying you heard he's good at volleyball, he'll instantly say you don't know that because you never saw him play. If you say you've heard a lot about him, he'll turn red and will want to kill me. And if you ask him to say something about himself, he'll end up talking about Lady"

"Lady?"

"His cat"

Then suddenly, you heard footsteps behind you, and turned around to see a tall thirteen-year-old, his curls everywhere around his pale face, probably in a mess because of the wind, a facemask lowered down to his chin, glaring over at Komori.

"Motoya"

"Kiyoomi! Finally! Please, meet my friend, this is Y/N."

He gave you a slight bow, or more likely a nod, smiling politely as he responded.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Sakusa Kiyoomi"

The first thing to pop into your head was obviously 'I know', but you decided not to say that, because of what your best friend had said a couple of minutes earlier.

"Y/N" you said, smiling back at him. "Nice to meet you, too. How're you?"

"Well I was just about to finish an episode, when this guy called me to come meet you two, so I'd say I'm not so great. Plus, what do you have to say about my cat, Komori?"

"So harsh, Omi"

He made a disgusted face.

"Don't call me that you idiot"

You smiled at yourself then, trying not to laugh at how different this guy was from his description, and smiled now, as you were laying in the same guy's lap, which he'd never allow to happen five years ago.

"I am humble" he responded "That's a fact, not an opinion"

"Sure" you mumbled, placing your hand over your forehead, as if you were trying to get the pain to go away. He noticed the movement, and turned back to you.

"If it's this bad then here" he said, leaning over to grab something located several seats away. Next, he put his cold water bottle against your head, and didn't even let you hold it yourself. "Does this help?"

"How should I know, it's only been like, three seconds" you responded sarcastically.

"Hey, stop being salty, I'm the one taking care of you"

"Are you, though? Or are you using me as an excuse to get out of practice?"

He was in fact, really tired, but would've keep practicing if it weren't for your condition. He had a habit of doing things till he finished, even if it meant passing out in the process, or something.

At that point, his mind was already racing in all the different directions. Were you seriously thinking he didn't care? Wasn't it obvious? Maybe no, and if someone is injured, then he must feel taken care of, but not overprotected, as his father always said, when he made him bandage his own aching wrists when he was younger.

"Alright, well, let's see if you don't have any concussion, alright?" he asked, but didn't wait for any answer. "Where are we now?"

"Itachiyama's gym?"

"What's my name?"

"Why would I forget your name?"

"Just answer, oh my god, I know what I'm doing" he sighed.

"Wakatoshi Ushijima" you laughed, and he gave you a disappointed look.

"Very funny, oh god, aren't you just the queen of humor. Is your vision blurred, or doubled?"

"No, I only see a huge jackass in front of me, is that a symptom?"

He didn't even respond, just hid his face in his hands and let out a supressed, exhausted groan.

"Alright, I see you don't have any trouble speaking either, so let's just say you don't have a concussion, and we can keep patiently waiting for the nurse"

After that, silence fell upon you two, both not knowing what to say. Here you were, laying on the thighs of your crush of four years, and even in a situation like this, you didn't know whether he wanted to keep it that way, or run off as soon as possible. You suddenly got embarassed, feeling the heat of the athletes body next to your cheeks, and were unable to say anything, at the same time desperately wanting him to maintain the conversation. He, on the other hand, was so fixed on keeping his heart rate at a reasonable pace, that he wasn't capable of doing anything more at the moment.

Because there he was, with his crush of four years,

And still didn't know what to say or do, mind still stuck at the thing you said about him only being there with you out of convenience, and at every time in that conversation that you called him a jackass, or an asshole. He really wanted to be sweet, but well, that wasn't in his nature. It wasn't like him, and even after spending all these years with you, he still wasn't certain of anything he felt, didn't want you to feel the way Komori told him he made another girl feel, when he was nice to her all the time, and then declined when she wanted to go out with him. What if he'd say no out of nervousness and you'd get the wrong idea? It was too risky. Besides, getting this close to somebody meant going on dates, meant going somewhere public, meant showing affection, meant being there for someone at all times... all those things he had no idea how to do.

So I guess, he thought, I'd rather be the asshole.

"Hey, Omi?" you suddenly asked.

"Hm?" he mumbled in response, being pulled away from his rapid train of thoughts.

"Your undereyes are really dark, did you notice?" you said "And your hands look so red, and violet even, like if someone beat you up"

"Nobody beat me up, silly, that's how it is after practice"

"I always see you two after practice, and not once were they this color"

"Maybe you have trouble with vision, after all" he sighed, looking down on his hands, noticing they really are badly bruised. How come he didn't feel it before?

"Nationals aren't here for a long time yet. It's still four months until january, why are you already like this?" you asked quietly, but it was a different type of quiet. It was more of the 'tell me what you did now, you idiot, I'm already disappointed in you'. It must've gotten to Kiyoomi, because he avoided your sight, and clearly hid his hands behind him.

He left you without your reply for an awfully long time. Stared at the ceiling, at the practicing boys, even checked the time twice, but still didn't reply.

"Uhm, it's that, I always practice spiking when—" he couldn't finish, because there was your best friend, running through the gym, captain Tsukasa following him with an apologetic look on his face, two paramedics behind them.

"Thank god you woke up already, Nee-chan!" he yelled, almost falling to his knees when he tried to sit in front of the bench while still running. "How's your... how's your everything? How bad does it hurt?"

He was shaking your entire body, and it made your head hurt worse, but you couldn't help but smile. You looked over at Kiyoomi.

See, that's the reaction.

If you'll ever see me acting like this idiot, it'll mean the world is ending.

His expression said everything, as he helped you sit up, sitting very close to you, so you wouldn't fall if you suddenly felt dizzy.

It made him feel dizzy, though.

"Komori, pull yourself together, you called the ambulance for a reason" he reminded his cousin, tone as sharp as broken glass, and the libero only nodded, and sat on your other side.

For someone who hates hospitals as much as Sakusa does, he was very near the situation the whole time, he didn't go back to training at all, even though he technically didn't need to watch over you anymore. You wondered why, after all, he didn't care, right?

The men checked everything, and as it turned out, your forehead was already painted with all shades of purple, but there was nothing that required transporting you to a hospital right away. If you were to feel dizzy or have difficulties with walking or speaking later in the day, they made you promise to either get to the ER with your legal guardians, or call the ambulance once again, and after a ridiculous amount of checkups, they left.

It was already evening, when the boys also decided to call it a day and finish up the training. You saw how they were all exhausted and weary, and you somehow felt guilty for stressing them like that, so you wanted to leave as soon as possible.

"Hey, kid" you stopped the first year who hit you, when he was leaving the building. He turned around, his eyes puffy and red. "It was my fault. Don't worry about it" you smiled "I mean it" and turned away to go get your stuff. He ran off thanking you, and you shook your head while laughing.

Sakusa and Komori came back from the lockers a while later and decided to chat with you for a bit before going their separate ways.

"You feeling alright there, dummy?" the taller boy asked, his voice as casual as ever. You nodded, but Komori didn't find that enough of an answer.

"Do you want us to walk you home? We can surely do that, right, Omi?"

He looked confused.

"Uhm, sure we can. And don't call me that, you idiot"

"Guys, I'll be fine on my own, no worries. You're both exhausted, go and rest already" you really meant it for the both of them, but your eyes were fixed on Kiyoomi, who avoided looking directly into them as much as possible.

"Alright then. See you tommorow, remember we're doing a research paper together, so if you'll be late to class again, I will literally strangle you" Sakusa said, leaving you with your friend, turning around as soon as possible.

"Rude as always! Remember to actually rest, dickhead!" you shouted behind him.

"Don't move around too much, bitch!" he replied, waving, but not facing you, and closed the door behind him.

You laughed, but it was bittersweet. You liked the energy and chemistry you had, the whole insulting each other thing, but you'd much rather stop being 'dickhead' and 'bitch' and start being 'honey' and 'baby' or something as sickly cheesy and annoyingly cute as that.

It was dumb, you knew that, but wouldn't it be fun to hear it from him?

Wouldn't it be... comforting?

"You know" Motoya said, smiling at the door, already closed shut. "It's not that he doesn't like you, or something"

You laughed again, and the sacrasm could be felt from a mile away.

"I know he does like me. I am one hundred percent certain he does"

I'd just like him to love me, is that too much to ask?

You left the big gym, Komori locking the door, and started walking towards your house. The sun was already halfway through setting down, your head still hurted, and you noticed you were terribly tired, to the point your eyes were half closed, when you heard a sudden whisper from your bestfriend.

"It's not like he doesn't love you, either. I know my opinions about him aren't always accurate, but this, this I'm sure of. He's just afraid."

Afraid he'll be the asshole you call him as a joke.

Or maybe more afraid you'll be the bitch?

#sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa #sakusa x you #hq sakusa #haikyuu sakusa #fluff #ff #hq fluff #hq scenarios #hq #haikyuu!!#haikyu #haikyuu #fanfiction #fanfic #hq fanfic

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avenger-hawk · 3 years

Text

Tagged by @altraes (thank you, it was fun to do this~)

List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

(I wrote the first paragraphs because my first lines alone don’t make much sense lol)

1- ACQUIESCENCE (Minato/Itachi) my first fic ever. darkish but just a little, angsty. I’m proud of it cause another author wrote a sequel to it.

to ac·qui·esce: to accept, agree, or allow something to happen by staying silent or by not arguing. A flurry of leaves, swept away by the autumn wind, caught the Hokage's attention while he took off his large hat. That time of the year should have been warmer.

2- THE WILL OF FIRE (Shiita, Danzo/Shisui, Danzo/Itachi) This was dark and shiita fans didn’t like it lol.

Just like his owner, Danzo's studio was dark and dusty. The man didn't look as old as Hiruzen, but he was twice as scary; thus would think a boy of Itachi's age. Not him. He was not allowed to be afraid.

3- WHAT HE WANTED (Itasasu) Even tho I rewrote it cause I didn’t like how I initially characterized them and their dynamics this is my most popular fic. Maybe because it’s a post-ending, canon divergent, fix-it kind of story. Maybe because it’s Itasasu and I put so much love into writing their dynamics and, also, in giving Sasuke a good ending since canon didn’t do him justice.

Sasuke is where everybody wants him to be: in Konoha. With the battle and the arm he also lost the urge to fight. He's had enough of traveling. He's tired of chasing and being chased. So tired that even if he meant every word about starting a revolution, being the Hokage and build a new era, he had wondered, though only for a moment, if he would be able to really accomplish such tasks all by himself.

4- IN POWER WE ENTRUST THE LOVE ADVOCATED (Itasasu) THis is my second most popular fic. This one too was written after the ending and tried to give Sasuke justice. I planned to write a sequel but I got busy with other projects and lost interest in it.

The gates open, letting the shinobi in after a successfully completed mission. Being on duty the following day Sasuke declines his team mates' proposal to have dinner together, the reddish sunset light forcing him to squint as he walks towards the Hokage's office.

5- PRESSURE (Itasasu) Taken from In Power that can be read as a standalone oneshot.

Itachi wakes up to the sound of pouring water.

6- IN DREAMS (Itasasu, Izuna/Sasuke, DARKFIC). This is one of the darkest things I wrote. The Izuna/Sasuke crackpair was for @admiral-izusasu. The plot, the dynamics, everything has a double, or triple reading, plot related and metaphorical for other, real-life issues such as knowing people online, and emotional abuse from narcissistic people. I wrote it when I was fighting against one of these psychos, on tumblr itself, so this fic has a personal meaning for me. But also the plot and the canon divergent ending thing is cool, I think it’s one of my best fics, even though I coulnd’t care less about izuna.

They say that nature will always find a way. After the end of the war flowers keep blooming like nothing happened even if the light is fainter, filtered from the tall branches of the Shinju tree, now grown into a forest spread all over the world.

7- SOMBER CREATION PALE DESTRUCTION (Madara/Sasuke dom/sub-ish). Darkish? Who knows, I write darkfish stuff all the time. I was (and am) very proud of this fic, the canon divergent turn it took (who am I kidding, it’s really cool lol) and the weird relationship/dynamics these 2 created. So I didn’t update it anymore, because doing so would break their thin balance. Ssssh, don’t tell me it doesn’t make sense, I don’t believe you xD

History teaches that Madara Uchiha died at the hands of Hashirama Senju. Their statues were erected in the Valley Of The End where their battle was fought, where the shinobi god ended his best friend's life in order to protect the village they founded together. No one knows that Madara didn't die there.

8- IN THE DARK (kakashi/Sasuke, mob/Sasuke noncon). This is a very dark oneshot that I’m proud of, cause it ‘explains’ canon Sasuke personality in Shinden and later, and that I use as prequel for many fics, like WHW but also OFAF and Broken Things (see later for both).

Things never went as Sasuke wanted. After the war it's no different, although everything seems fine at first, Team 7 finally at peace with each other, the war ended and the village that Itachi protected, even as a dead man, safe. Nevertheless he is arrested when he's still in the hospital.

9- VICTIMS OF PEACE (Shisui/Sasuke dom/sub-ish) I am so proud of this fic, of its non massacre universe, of the dark-ish slow burn relationship between Shisui and Sasuke I wrote, tentatively at first cause no one did it or thought much about it, and because that non massacre filler was bad, but still it was inspiration. I know shiita fans hated me even more for this cause shisui is only paired with itachi, and also itachi/itasasu fans were disappointed but still. This is maybe the fic I’m most proud of.

If a traveler arrived from a random village in the Fire Country he would certainly notice how different Konoha was. He would not be able to pinpoint exactly why at first, because the buildings, houses and shops are similar, just like their gardens, fields and animals. Only after some thought he would understand that the difference is in their people: other villagers are relaxed and casual, even loud. Children run around the streets, chasing each other, playing tag or hide-and-seek. Their fathers bring them presents and their mothers buy them new clothes.

10- OF FEATHERS AND FANGS (DARK Narusasu) I received a lot of hate for this one, which makes me proud of it even more. so many naruto stans were butthurt by my characterization of him as a possessive not sunshine selfless boy and their dynamics as crazy.

Jiraiya used to complain that the first sign of getting old was waking up at night for no reason and not being able to fall back asleep. For Naruto, this only happened after the war.

11- BLACK ROSES (Itasasu, dom/sub-ish) Smutty Bloody Darky Hokage Itachi/Anbu Sasuke oneshot

Because of his farsighted politics, his loyalty towards his allies as well as his iron fist against his enemies, Itachi quickly became one of the most respected leaders in the shinobi world, and because of his unequaled diplomatic skills, along with his vast culture, impeccable manners and refined appearance, he became popular among nobles, including the Daimyo, whose official visits increased since the Uchiha rose to power.

12- NELL’IPOTESI GRANDE (=IN THE BIG HYPOTHESIS) (MetaMoro, not Naruto) I’m very proud of this one cause it’s a psycho-pass inspired longfic set in a retrofuturistic Italy with a totalitarian consumeristic regime. But that fandom is so shitty and they all hate me cause I called them homophobic fascists so no one cares. The excerpt is translated too.

He’s reminded of Pirandello’s* words as he’s riding the automatic taxi across the city, exiting the center towards EUR. COmpared to Milan with its skyscrapers, multilevel streets, automatic cars and incessant novelties, the capital is basically the same as it was portrayed in old illustrations: renaissance and 20th century buildings, seagulls, pines among the Roman ruins, sycamore trees on the Lungotevere, that was probably already busy with traffic when people travelled on horse carriages. (*an Italian writer)

13- DA UOMO A UOMO, MANO NELLA MANO (from man to man, hand in hand) (Metamoro) lol I was hated a lot for this one too. tbh the hate I received in the Naruto fandom is nothing compared to this other shitty fandom

For an artist like Fabrizio, mainly focused on expressing what he has inside, public relations are the hardest part of his job, especially when it’s about events where, instead of fans, of whom he perceives the sincere affection, other artists and professionals are invited. His experience taught him that most of them are hypocrites ready to jump on the winner’s bandwagon as quickly as to throw mud at the loser.

14- STRENGTH THROUGH WOUNDING (wip) (Obito/Sasuke, Obito/Itachi, dark.-ish)

There is something nostalgic in the eerie way the boy's screams resonate through the dark cavern-like hideout, their pain bouncing from one curved wall to another, their anguish filling their crevices. It’s like hearing his past self from an external perspective, like Madara did. Which is fitting, for Obito is Madara now.

15- WORDS UNSAID (wip) (Kakashi/Sasuke)

A black flame that cannot be extinguished: they had been warned about Amaterasu by Jiraiya, but seeing it was impressive nevertheless. The whole area was surrounded by black flames and the rain pouring hard could nothing against it. They found Sasuke there, surrounded, imprisoned by black flames that were extinguishing themselves, so they found a breach.

16- BLEEDING ME (Metamoro vampire/priest darkfic) No one can understand this in the Naruto fandom but it’s an AU interpretation of the Da UOMO A UOMO character dynamics where one is an emotional vampire-like person. I’m very proud of this fic tbh.

According to folk stories the forest was so big and full of dangers that God himself put a church where it ended, so that its priest would protect the people living nearby. It was a small, white building that didn’t match the typical stones and wood brownish ones of that region, with no stained glass windows or fancy columns, spires or gargoyles, only crosses with skulls and bones, and an engraving in an unknown language.

17- WILD CHILD (Metamoro cop/drug dealer AU). At this point I hate that fandom so much but I like my ideas and I write only for my girl whom I met in that very shitty fandom.

Everything seems bigger in children’s eyes. Like the playground in the courtyard of the church, with its slides and swings that for Ermal’s siblings were the setting of countless imaginary adventures which they told him in detail, enthusiastically interrupting each other, when he picked them up after school.

18- TRUE COLORS (Itasasu, dark, dom/sub) By now I’m only interested in writing dark IS and I enjoyed writing this one lol

"I knew you had it in you. You're a sadistic control freak. Even more than me." Orochimaru's voice resounded in Itachi's ears. Again.

19- OF FEATHERS AND FANGS 2: TO REPAIR WITH GOLD (Dark Narusasu). Cause I didn’t piss off NS fans enough I guess? lol this is ongoing and I like this idea so much

It's a rainy day in Konoha but no one seems to notice. Everyone is focused on the Hokage delivering his eulogy.

20- BROKEN THINGS (Shisui/Sasuke) My latest creation, I’m so proud of it cause it’s Shisasu again, my rarepair! and it was supposed to be a oneshot but it got longer because they have such a cool dynamic that things just happen and get longer.

In the Land of Water summers were hot and damp, autumn and spring were damp for the frequent rains and winter was no less, with its cold temperature and ubiquitous dampness. It wasn't a problem for Sasuke though.

Tagging: @renamon15 and all the other authors I can’t remember right now and who want to do this, tag me back so I can read your first lines lol

#I'm not reading nar fics so xD #I'm actually back into reading my old favourite bleach fics cause I used to be into bleach so much before naruto #ask meme/tag game #my writing #fics & art recs #lol for some reason the pressure first line seems funny out of context

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pluto-art · 3 years

Text

Syncytium - Chapter 5

Title: Polarization Words: 11,170 (including author’s comments) Rating: T

Fan Fiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13712482/5/Syncytium

Just as always, I highly recommend the FF.net version, as it includes all accentuated words. This has been my favorite chapter to write so far. Consider it a New Year’s Eve gift. Enjoy. :)

October 1st, 1993 - 7:10 PM

The wall to the cloaked laboratory slid open with a soft hiss as Brian T. Globetrotter quickly shuffled out of his private workshop and headed for the elevator. His ears perked a little as a distant sound caught his ear. It sounded like shuffling. Was that coming from the... trash cans? A yearning desire to investigate had to be cut short, however, as a small ding signaled the arrival of his ride. Not like he could wait another minute anyway. He stepped past the steel doors and poked intrusively at Floor One's button, doing his best not to break out in a desperate dance as his pained expression was shut to the basement.

In a back corner of the basement, a trash can wiggled about unsteadily... then went still. A second later and it jumped about again, rocking back and forth, as if someone were tickling its insides mercilessly. Then, with an echoing pop that reverberated off the walls, from its stomach burst forth a tall white mouse, his hair disheveled and his glasses askew as he shook himself, breathed out a welcome sigh of relief, and hopped out of the can before replacing its lid.

"Sorry, Mr. Trash Can. Zort! Thanks for all the help, though!" Pinky apologized, smiling as he refitted the can with its metallic "hat" and patted it kindly.

Even though no one could hear him, he took care to tip-toe as covertly as he could past where the secret laboratory lay, beyond the elevator, and up... up... up the stairs, only exiting onto the first floor landing once he heard the familiar ding of the elevator below, signaling Globetrotter's return to the basement. He smiled and blew out yet another grateful sigh. That was a close one. He'd almost gotten caught!

Down below, Globetrotter stepped out of the elevator, adjusting his pants a touch and facepalming. That one had been painful... He reminded himself that his next doctor appointment was the following Tuesday, and privately hoped that they'd have a better solution - stronger pills or something. This was getting ridiculous.

Pinky hadn't noticed that, in his haste to hide from Globetrotter's prying eyes, he'd dropped his #2 pencil on the ground at the lab's entrance. But Globetrotter noticed. He picked up the orange object and turned it about with bandaged fingers, a crease or two forming upon his thick brow. This wasn't his. #2 pencil? He'd never be that cheap. Someone had been here...

/\/\/\/\/\/\

October 4th, 1993 - 4:14 PM

It was official: The Halloween party was happening at the end of the month - October 30th, a Saturday. Somehow, after four years of the school going without any employees-only holiday gatherings, Pinky had gotten it passed; or, rather, the principal had passed it. Even with him being one for the theatrics, many still couldn't understand why he had no aversion what-so-ever to such an event, especially considering that it was said principal whom had banned employees-only parties in the first place due to an unfortunate incident. Some were convinced that he had an ulterior motive, though what that might be no one could even begin to guess. And so a mystery it remained, although a good number of teachers were unabashedly excited for the party regardless. A few stragglers, such as Mr. Ages and Globetrotter, refused to attend, finding it a waste of time. Completely. Others, however, such as Mrs. Brisby, Dr. Dawson, and Bernard and Bianca had already picked out their costumes. Mr. Ages and Globetrotter rolled their eyes at this. It was generally agreed upon that the party was to be held at Flaversham's house, as he was one of the most handsomely paid and, as a result, owned the largest establishment. He was also incredibly humble about it and often welcomed visitors. The only rule for this autumn gathering was that no children were allowed, and so Olivia would have to room with Mrs. Brisby and her children for the night. Flaversham was agreeable to this. Olivia was not.

Pinky came across her that afternoon, sulking by his door at 4:14 PM. She had been noticeably absent to class, and as the lanky, spectacled mouse approached the young girl, he frowned at her in concern.

She didn't look at him as he knelt down to her level. The floor was, apparently, much more interesting.

"Olivia?" Pinky began, tilting his head a little, the better to look into those stubborn, glossy eyes. "Class wasn't the same without you."

She sniffed, the tears began to fall, yet still she said nothing.

"Olivia...?" he inquired again, reaching out a soft paw and delicately tucking a finger underneath her chin, the better, of course, to tilt her head towards him. He smiled at her, a kindly, encouraging smile. "I'm here."

And the dam burst.

She threw herself into his arms, sobbing vehemently, as only a child can when they've been denied something incredibly important to them. Pinky hugged her right back, patting her back gently.

"Naaaaarf," her teacher cooed in his unusual way, rubbing her head. "Ohhhhh. Tell me all about it, hm?"

"M-My daddy... says I can't go to the Halloween party!" Olivia managed to choke out. "We always do everything together... when I'm not at school! B-But he said that... I can't go because... this is a party only for the adults." At this, she had to pause, for another torrential downpour threatened to burst, making her breath hitch. She was shaking so much that she'd shook her little tam-o-shanter right off her head. "I promise I'll be good! I won't even drink the alkaseltzer!"

She said this all so seriously, and anyone else might have stifled a snort at such an overly-dramatic display, as well as her incorrect pronunciation of "alcohol", but Pinky was not like other adults. He took Olivia's woes as gravely as if he'd just been delivered the news himself. After all, if he was uninvited to one of the coolest parties of the year, especially one he was to be the host of, he'd be pretty bummed out, too.

"Oh, Olivia...," he whimpered along with her, pulling the young girl back from his shoulder so as to address her properly, and felt his heart practically break at the sight of her crimson eyes. "I'm sure your dad would normally love to have you stay! After all, it's not a real party without Olivia." And he winked at her. That turned her frown upside down, if only for half a second. "I'd be really sad to not be invited to a party, too, ya' know."

"R-Really...?" the distraught little student hiccuped, wiping her eyes.

"Of course! But... you know something else?"

"What?"

"I'll bet some of the other kids are sad that they won't get to go to the party with their parents either. Like... Timothy and Cynthia. They can't go either, can they?"

Olivia shook her head.

"And you're the oldest, right?"

Yes.

"You know what that means, don't you?"

No.

"That means that you're in charge of making your own party!"

"You mean... we can have our own private party without the adults?"

"As long as Mrs. Brisby says it's okay. I'll put in a good word for you," Pinky promised. "Oh, and just between us...," and at this, he leaned in towards Olivia, cupping a hand to his mouth. Olivia extended an ear in interest. "I'm rather jealous I won't be able to attend yours. I'm sure it'll be way cooler."

At this, Olivia beamed.

"It'll be the best party you'll have never been to!"

And she picked up her hat from off the floor and slapped it down resolutely upon her furry little head, the redness of her eyes the only trace that she'd ever been crying at all. She spread her arms wide before hugging Pinky tight around the middle, nuzzling into his chest... and letting a few stray tears leak out in the process.

"Thank you, Mr. Pinky...," she whispered under her breath, and Pinky couldn't help but smile as he embraced her in return.

"You're welcome, Miss Olivia," he replied right back, booping her nose and waving after her as she ran off and around a corner.

Olivia's chipper exit was replaced by a much stiffer entrance in the form of Globetrotter, who stared after Olivia in judgement as he straightened a small stack of papers clutched in his grasp. This didn't phase Pinky in the least.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Brain!" he greeted him cheerfully, and for once, possibly the very first time for Pinky, Globetrotter actually smiled at him. Well, perhaps it was more of a smirk than a genuine grin, but Pinky accepted it either way. It was nice to see.

"Evening, my quixotic colleague," Globetrotter responded, his tone and inflection considerably more chipper than usual. "I take it you're excited for the festivities?"

"Ohhh, yes! Are you coming?" Pinky asked, as he stepped into his classroom. Globetrotter followed him to the door.

"I don't participate in such frivolities," said Globetrotter, hands tucked neatly behind his back and expression monotonous as he watched Pinky grab a tall ladder from the back of the classroom and position it underneath a dead light bulb. "You'll just have to survive without my presence."

Pinky tut tut tutted sadly as he picked out a fresh bulb from one of the desk drawers and made for the ladder.

"Not even for the punch, Brain?"

"It's Brian. Mr. Globetrotter, preferably. And, no, not even for what I'm sure will be... a delectable punch."

"Mmm. Shame," Pinky shrugged, as he popped the bulb in his mouth, clumsily climbed up the ladder, and carefully set down his bulb as he fixed to take out the old one. "I was rather looking forward to having you."

"You were?" Globetrotter asked, surprised. No one ever wanted him anywhere.

"Of course! Poit!" responded the other, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You were one of the first ones to welcome me when I came to the school, and you did so very well in my class!"

"That was... just a fluke," Globetrotter responded rather bashfully, averting his gaze a little.

"You're also the only other person who's still around at night when I go home late. It... makes me feel a little less lonely."

Globetrotter cocked an eyebrow at him curiously. He simply couldn't make heads or tails of this creature. Not only did he care about him for the stupidest, most meaningless reasons he could possibly concoct, he also saw him as an... equal. The very thought sent shivers up Globetrotter's spine. Never in his life would he put himself on the same pedestal as this nincompoop, not if he was paid to do it. Ronald Pinkus was beneath him in every way. And yet... there was something, dare he say it, wholesome about how he flat out refused to acknowledge any flaws in Brian what-so-ever, for flaws he had and plenty of them. This he knew, yet hated to admit. But he'd never met anyone who genuinely looked past them; who not only wasn't afraid to approach him, but sometimes purposely sought him out. It was... odd. Touching, but... odd.

He coughed uncomfortably.

"Yes, well... Maybe you should simply... retire earlier. There's more associates around before six o'clock."

"B-But I can't retire, Brain!" Pinky voiced worriedly, screwing in the new bulb, which popped a stale yellow as he wound it into place. "I just got here!"

"I meant rest. Perhaps you should go home earlier in the day, you... undeveloped fetus."

The insult flew right over Pinky's head to land somewhere in an empty corner, where no one else's ears could possibly pick it up. If anything, Pinky beamed at Globetrotter's response.

"Ohhhhhh! Well, that's different then, isn't it? But, oh, wait... No. No no, I couldn't possibly do that either. What about the students?"

"The students?"

"Yes, Brain! Don't your students ask to talk with you about their problems after class?" asked Pinky matter-of-factly, as he promptly descended the ladder, folded it up, and moved it back to its resting place. He hummed a very repetitive little tune as he did all this. Hm hm, hm hm, hm hmmmm. It was monotonous, yet curiously catchy, in a way.

"Noooooooo... Not usually. Sometimes they'll ask a question about a theory or mathematical equation, of course, but that's to be expected," he said, perhaps a bit haughtily as he checked over his fingernails. "I am not privy to the personal issues and well-being of my pupils. They keep to their business and I keep to mine. This is a school, not a therapist's office."

"It's not?"

Brain stared at him, giving him the most deadpan glare he could possibly muster.

"You are, without a doubt, the daftest individual I've ever met."

"Thank you, Brain," Pinky smiled, and he said it genuinely.

With a shake of the head, Brain stepped back out into the hallway, Pinky following.

"If you'll excuse me, I must return to my state of business," said he, and he began to walk away from room 210.

"Oh! Ummm... Brain?" Pinky asked, remaining by his door as he waved an eager hand towards his colleague.

Brain turned to look back at him, one eyebrow raised and hands once more tucked behind his back.

"Will you be eating dinner here at the school tonight?" he asked.

Globetrotter stared at him for a moment, nonplussed.

"Most likely. Why?"

"Would you like to join me in the cafeteria? I have something for yoouuuuu!"

Globetrotter considered this. Normally, his answer would be a firm and stalwart "NO", but perhaps it would work to his benefit. Being closer to Pinky would enable him to carry out his plan much faster and easier. The lanky teacher was such an unsuspecting ignoramus that he could probably finish the job Scott free, even in a public area. Heheh. Finish the job. Oh, it sounded so devious...

"Ccccertainly. Why not?" Globetrotter replied, smirking. "After all, you... have shown yourself to be a successful member of this institution. I suppose it's only fit to honor that with the occasional get-together."

"Oh, wonderful! Six o'clock then?" Pinky grinned, radiant as a firefly as he clapped his hands together rather childishly and bounced up and down on the balls of his feet.

"Yes. Six o'clock. Don't be late," Globetrotter warned, as he turned around to continue in his trek down the hall. He'd barely gotten another foot away from the excited Pinky, however, when he was called back once more.

"Oh! Brain?"

He looked back, a rather miffed expression pulling at his face. If that nitwit mispronounced his name one more time...

"Thank you," said Pinky in a soft voice as he hid his hands behind his back rather bashfully.

"Don't mention it," Globetrotter responded dryly. "It's just a lunch."

"No no. I mean... for the compliment. You really think I'm a success...?"

He said it so sincerely that Globetrotter almost felt sorry for him. Almost...

"Sure," lied his tongue. "You've certainly proved to be of... some worth."

In truth, it was only a partial fabrication. He had shown himself to be successful, if you considered babysitting a bunch of toddlers lucrative. In Globetrotter's eyes, the bumbling professor, if he was even laudable enough to be called that, was only popular from a superficial standpoint - he was likable, he was approachable, he was, as the girls disgustingly called him, "hot", and he was easy-going with children. In short, he was a celebrity, not a teacher. Whatever credentials he did obtain were worthless to someone of Globetrotter's stature; anyone who charmed their way into so highly prestigious of an establishment didn't deserve to hold a position there in the first place. He was enough of a threat to consider ousting due to his fame as a personality, but from an educational angle he posed no competition; at least, not in Globetrotter's eyes. And so he threw him a bone, more as a cover-up than anything, but he didn't expect him to take it so... consolingly. It made him a little uncomfortable.

"Thank you," Pinky said again, beaming. "You've... been the only one to tell me that. Well, at least here anyway. Eheh. Poit..."

Globetrotter frowned at the verbal tick. Few questioned it, aside from the occasional student who ventured to ask what "zort" or "narf" meant. Globetrotter simply took it as a medical condition and left it at that. He'd rather assume as such than entertain the thought that that sorry excuse of a teacher actually enjoyed spewing such nonsense, but, then again, he wouldn't be surprised.

He also frowned at the admittance, somewhat in surprise. Had none of the other teachers thrown him a kind word? Surely they must have. He knew they had, in fact, for he'd overheard their compliments, both in Pinky's presence and not. Most liked him, and those who didn't simply felt sorry for him. At least they'd had some sense to not outright call him a success, because he certainly was not that when it came to earning a place as a professional in the university.

"Just keep doing what you're doing and I'm sure you'll be fine," he spat, perhaps a little too harshly. Pinky noticed not. "You've undoubtedly shown yourself to be popular."

"Oh, not as popular as you, Brain! I'm sure you're still one of the best teachers in the whole school!"

At this, Globetrotter smiled.

"To that I flagrantly concur, my good fellow. To that, I flagrantly concur," grinned the science professor, and he said it so deviously that, if he'd uttered it to any other teacher, they would have flogged him where he stood.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

4:47 PM

Globetrotter clicked on the little green banker's desk lamp that sat on his table. It cast a dim, yellow glow across the mahogany surface, illuminating papers, calculators, a coffee mug, and a gel pen - an expensive one. Rolling in the combination to the lock on his briefcase, he pushed in on the lock buttons, to which the case satisfyingly clicked open. Out of it he pulled: a pair of gloves, some odd-looking tools, a computer chip, a bottle of Aspirin, and a very small, round device that appeared to be magnetic in construction. Indeed, from an outsider's perspective, it looked to be nothing more than one of those tiny black magnets that one stuck to their fridge to pin up such things as receipts and shopping lists. Quite unassuming.

The middle-aged mouse laid out the chip, magnet, and tools, pulled on his gloves with a sharp snap, and got to work. For twenty minutes he tinkered with the device. It was delicate work, requiring much precision, but he reveled in it. Occasionally, his ponderings wandered to, of all things, Ronald Pinkus - how quixotic he was; how precariously he'd climbed up that rickety ladder. Shame he didn't break his neck, Globetrotter thought. Would have made my job much easier...

At 5:10 PM, he stood up from his chair, learned towards his desk lamp, and, with the little magnet pinched between his fingers, held it up to the lamp.

Snap.

It attached to the lamp's outer surface as if it was made to rest there. Globetrotter smirked. Pulling off the magnet, he opened up a side drawer and tested it out on a steel tape dispenser. It worked there, too. The magnet hugged it tightly. Globetrotter pulled it off, nodded satisfactorily, and pocketed it. Of course, this was only half of the test. It would only prove itself after applied.

"Oh, you beautiful little Polarizer," he mumbled fondly, actually kissing the device as he held it securely between his fingers. "Make me proud!"

/\/\/\/\/\/\

6:05 PM

He was late. Of course he was late.

Globetrotter tapped his fingers on a cafeteria table impatiently, checking his watch every now and then, even though there was a clock literally right above him, attached to a pole near the entrance of the meeting area. If there was anything that boiled his bottles more than almost anything else, it was tardiness. There was no excuse for irresponsibility.

The cafeteria was completely devoid of life, save for a few straggling servers behind the counter, the janitors, Jak and Gus, and Globetrotter himself. One thing rather noteworthy, if not a tad bit odd, about Acme School of Arts and Sciences was that all classes generally ended at 5:00 PM. The founder of the university had been strict about the doors closing early so as both school personnel and students had ample time to spend in the evenings with their family and friends, as well as have extra time to commit to homework. It was a rule that was still upheld to this day. Some professors, of course, still stayed past "curfew", mostly to attend to extra duties and grading during the quiet evenings, and even then none of them, save for Globetrotter, and now Pinky, ever lingered past 6:00 PM. The one exception was the theater kids - their rehearsals sometimes went until 7:00 or even 8:00 PM. It was the only reason the cafeteria stayed open until 7:00, and even then it was rare to find anyone at a table this late.

Globetrotter welcomed the silence, of course. It was a time for pondering; a time for planning. But he had no patience for late-comers.

He had half a mind to just get up and leave right then and there when in swooped the Trozologist, waving as he headed in a rush towards his cafe buddy.

"Phew! So sorry I'm late, Brain!" he sighed, flopping down into a chair, a bit too close for Globetrotter's liking. He scooted to the side a few paces. "Mrs. Brisby and I got to talking about cooking and, well, the time just ran away with me! Ha-ha! Zort!"

"Yes... I'm sure it did," Globetrotter groaned, not at all amused. "Are you going to refresh yourself?" he asked. He was already on his third cup of coffee and about to get primed for a fourth.

Pinky looked around at this, concerned, before focusing his attention back on Globetrotter.

"Um... In public, Brain?"

Globetrotter's response was a deep, planted facepalm. What an absolute boob.

"The drinks, you ignoramus. The drinks! Are you doing to get a drink?!"

"Pfff. Well, why didn't you say so, Brain?" Pinky chuckled, rolling his eyes and standing right back up again. "Oh! I almost forgot. This is for you."

And he set down in front of Globetrotter a very pretty, very lovingly wrapped little present that, somehow, he hadn't noticed before. He stared at it rather worriedly, as if it might explode.

"Well, go ahead, silly!" Pinky encouraged him, nudging him forward with a nod of the head.

"Th-Thank you," Globetrotter said, not quite sure how to respond. He unwrapped it with delicate fingers, loosening first the decorative red bow tied about the box, then carefully undoing the rose-patterned ivory paper underneath. Inside was a dark green box with a lid on it. He slipped off the lid, peered inside, and pulled out...

"For you!" Pinky exclaimed happily. "Do you like it?"

It was a black coffee mug, with the words 'Best Teacher Ever!' written in white upon the front. It was quite a nice mug, despite the ridiculous phrase - snug in his hands and smooth to the touch. He was equal parts flattered that Pinky had recognized his fondness for coffee and embarrassed that it was that apparent.

"Thank you...," he answered awkwardly. He'd probably have to blot out the text later. Being associated with anything that generic churned his stomach. But he did like the mug. "I... needed a new one."

"Now you can use it with your new coffee maker!"

"You bought that for me...?"

"Of course! Who else would I buy it for?" blurted out Pinky, rolling his eyes. "I mean, everyone can use it, but... I ordered it for you really."

To this, Globetrotter could only stare disbelievingly. He swallowed thickly. What... was with this mouse?! Buying him a mug. Saying he made him less lonely at night. Ordering a coffee maker just so he could enjoy his days a bit more? No one was this nice. Surely, there was some ulterior motive.

"What's the catch...?" he asked, looking serious. There was always a catch. Always.

"Catch, Brain?" inquired Pinky, cocking his head in confusion. "Um... I haven't caught anything lately, Brain. Unless you count this fish," he said, and he pulled out of his pocket an actual, live minnow in a small jar filled with water. "Hellooooo, Jerry!" said Pinky... to the fish. "I caught him in the lake this morning! Still need to buy him a tank, though. Don't I, Jerry?"

Globetrotter simply stared at him, nonplussed, his mouth hanging open a little.

"Go on! Back you go!" said Pinky, tucking the little minnow back into his pocket and smiling at Globetrotter happily as if he hadn't just pulled a live fish out of his coat. "Oh! That's right. Drinks! Aren't you going to get yours, Brain?"

And off he trotted, heading in the direction of the cafeteria to grab, as usual, an odd assortment of foods and a drink. Globetrotter nervously looked behind him at Pinky, as if he might set fire to something... or pull a bazooka out of his pants... or... something. At this point, he didn't know what to expect from this mouse, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. Perhaps he was biting off more than he could chew...

But no. He shook his head at the thought. Pinkus was simply an idiot. A kind... thoughtful... very sweet idiot... But an idiot nonetheless. And no amount of good deeds was going to stop him in his plot. Nevertheless, he supposed it wouldn't hurt to at least try out the mug. He highly doubted it was bugged.

One mug of coffee, and a tray of assorted foods... plus a cup of Sprite, later, and Pinkus and Globetrotter were back at the table, the former laden down with treats, the latter content with his single, fourth serving of Italian Roast. Pinky helped himself eagerly to a sprinkle doughnut, offering Globetrotter a bite as he chewed happily.

"No, thank you. Bad for my... thighs," Globetrotter uttered lamely.

Pinky shrugged and finished off the tasty confection before diving into another. Globetrotter blew on his coffee before taking a tentative sip. It was good. Rich, flavorful, with a bite at its closure. And his lips conformed nicely about the mug. Yes, he liked this mug. Not that he'd ever say that out loud or anything.

For once, Pinky wasn't talking; so preoccupied with a sugar doughnut was he. Normally, Globetrotter would have welcomed this silence, but he'd gotten so used to Pinky always being a chatterbox whenever he was around him (which, admittedly, wasn't terribly often) that he felt... a little uncomfortable not making conversation, strangely.

"So, um...," he began, in a lame attempt to deaden the silence. "What is your opinion on asymptotic analysis?"

"Hm?" Pinky inquired, eyes wide and cheeks bulging with a mouthful of doughnut as he smiled puffily at Globetrotter.

Too complicated. He's not going to understand that, you moron. Globetrotter floundered. He wasn't good at this. Small talk was not one of his strong points.

"Um... chaos theory?"

Pinky swallowed.

"Ohhh! You mean like in Jurassic Park?"

"What?"

"Well, that's what Ian Malcolm always talked about. Chaos theory! Although, personally, I liked Ellie Sattler more. Laura Dern is such a good actress and I loved her in Rambling Rose! She was actually Spielberg's first choice for the role in Jurassic Park, did you know?"

He said all this as he grabbed a bottle of ketchup and mustard each and squirted their contents all over a hotdog he'd set in a bun. At the word "such" he'd given a very feminine wave of the hand that Globetrotter highly disapproved of.

"I did not know," Globetrotter replied, taking a dainty sip of his coffee.

"She also auditioned for the role of Clarice in Silence of the Lambs, but I really do think Jodie Foster was a more appropriate selection. She's quite versatile. I heard she's looking to get back into the directing field soon..."

And on and on he went, sometimes speaking between bites, other times continuing on with a mouthful of food, his thick mumbles so incomprehensible that Globetrotter could only catch a "George Lucas" here and a "Princess Bride" there. It was downright humorous to him that this mouse, who knew so little about the subjects upon which this school was founded, was incredibly versed in filmography. Then again, he supposed it was only appropriate, considering the flamboyant showman that he was. And this was a school of sciences and arts, after all. But then, why hadn't he majored in theater? Trozology, whatever it was, seemed a waste of time.

"You seem to know a lot about cinema," Globetrotter voiced, finally able to find a break in the conversation after a solid ten minutes. The entire time, he'd covertly tried to roam about Pinky's attire with a sharp gaze, looking for anything magnetic he could possibly attach his device to. He eventually settled on Pinky's name tag. Of course. They all sported one, and they were made of metal. If he could somehow stick it on the back...

"Oh, I love the arts!" Pinky responded, clasping his hands together and batting his eyes dreamily. "All the movie magic and the passion and the creativity...!"

"Pinky, might I... see your badge for a moment? Only there's a nasty blemish on it. I... certainly wouldn't want you to walk around with a dirty tag."

"Why, thank you, Brain. How thoughtful of you."

And he unpinned his badge from his coat and handed it to Globetrotter. It was as simple as that.

"So, if you're so into the arts then why didn't you become an actor... or something?" Globetrotter stalled, as his right hand poked about in his jacket pocket to ensure that the magnet was still there. It was. He plucked it out, hiding it in his right hand as he pretended to rub at a spot on the badge with the end of his coat, surreptitiously planting the little magnet on the back of the badge as he did so. Piece of cake.

"Oh, I was going to, Brain! Narf! But I found something else I love much more...," he said, resting a cheek on his left hand as he gazed off into space, a toothy grin curled about his visage.

"Trozology?"

"Mmhm."

"What is Trozology?"

"You don't know, Brain? It's the study o-"

But at that moment, the cafeteria doors burst open to reveal a very angry set indeed: Dex, followed close behind by Maisy, Marvell, Gadget, Tillie, and one other boy rat whom Pinky didn't recognize. Dex and Maisy were shouting at the top of their lungs, oblivious to the few stragglers lingering about the room.

"-never messed with your business before! I know it's important to you. Why do you think I gave you your space?!" Dex yelled at his sister, a plethora of expressive hand gestures complementing his outburst.

"You never 'gave me my space', Dex. You're always hanging out after my classes; checking in on me when I'm trying to relax. How is that 'giving me my space'?!"

"Oh, man. Um. Lemme think. Maybe it's because... I care about you?!"

"Maisy, come on. He's taken a lot of hits for you," Gadget said, stepping forward.

"Oh, like, grade hits? Detention? You'd know a lot about hits, wouldn't you, Dex?"

"Girl, come on. Maisy's right," Marvell uttered, also stepping up. "You're laying it on too hard."

"YOU WANNA TAKE HER SIDE?! THEN FINE! I know you care more about her and Dex than me!"

"I didn't say that!" Marvell countered, looking hurt.

"This is about Mom, isn't it?! You don't know ANYTHING about taking hits!" Maisy practically screamed at Dex, advancing towards him with the ferocity of a tyrannosaurus, causing him to back up with every step she took.

None of them had yet seen Globetrotter and Pinky off to the side, and the janitors stayed as silent as the mice they were from a shaded corner. Pinky looked on the verge of standing up to intervene, but Globetrotter, surprisingly, put out a hand to stop him.

"It's not about Mom! It's... about everything!" Dex choked out. "And don't tell me that I don't know anything about taking hits, Maisy! You don't know the half of it..."

"The hell do you mean about that?" Maisy softened up, but only for a moment. She turned swiftly 'round to glare at her friends. "THE HELL DOES HE MEAN?!"

All of them shuffled about awkwardly, looking embarrassed. Gadget rubbed at her arm, and Marvell bit her lip suspiciously, gaze firmly planted to the floor. But the boy rat looked the most broken of all, and it was him that Maisy targeted.

"What does he mean, Red?"

Red directed his eyes downward, his ears appropriately turning the color of his namesake.

"What does he mean?!"

"I... I promised I wouldn't say, Mais!" he sputtered out, a paw coming up to rub at a sore spot on the back of his head.

"Dex?!" Maisy spat, rounding back on her brother.

"You attend this school just as much as me. You should be smart enough to figure it out," Dex replied, and with that he walked off towards an exit on the opposite end of the cafeteria, purposely ignoring his sister's pleas.

"Tell me what you mean, Dex!"

No response.

"DEX! Tell me what you mean!"

It was as she started crying that Pinky finally made his presence known... via slipping off his chair. It clattered down with its owner, the noise echoing loudly off the walls and pulling every eye in the vicinity towards him. Globetrotter jumped and glared at Pinky.

"O-Oh! Ummm...," Pinky stammered, standing up in a flash and ringing the end of his coat in his hands awkwardly.

Maisy's cheeks turned bright pink. She full out burst into tears as she turned tail and ran back into the hallway, her friends casting one last embarrassed look at the teachers before sprinting off after her, occasionally calling her name.

Pinky swallowed thickly. Globetrotter sighed, long and exhausted, through his nose.

"Why did you stop me, Brain?" Pinky queried, dusting off his coat and propping his chair back up.

"Because sometimes people just need to talk, Pinky," Globetrotter said, slapping the now tampered with badge back on the table for Pinky to take, which he did, pining it on his jacket, none the wiser.

"I don't think that was talking, Brain. That was more like... screaming."

"Well, people need to scream sometimes, too," Globetrotter nipped, draining the last bits of coffee from his mug and heading towards the sink to wash it out. Pinky followed him, demolished tray of food and empty soda cup in hand.

"Have you screamed sometimes, Brain...?" Pinky asked delicately as he tossed his trash and replaced the tray.

Globetrotter didn't answer right away. He looked thoughtful as he washed out his cup.

"Sometimes...," he finally responded, shaking the mug to rid it of the last few droplets of water.

"Were you hurting then, too?"

Another pause. Globetrotter stepped over to a paper towel dispenser, ripping off a piece to dry his cup with.

"Yes."

Globetrotter looked curiously over at Pinky, whose ears had drooped so low that he looked more like a lop rabbit than a mouse. He actually made to step forward, but Globetrotter, already smelling some form of physical affection, backed up, a hand raised in protest.

"Save your pity."

"I'm sorry, Brain. Poit..," Pinky whispered, and he truly was.

"It's fine," replied Globetrotter.

There was an awkward pause, in which neither of them spoke for a solid ten seconds, Globetrotter running a finger along the ring of his new mug, Pinky shuffling his feet uncomfortably.

"I... really should be going. Thank you for the mug. It's... good," Globetrotter ended lamely.

"You're welcome," Pinky said, the smallest of smiles crawling up his face. "Thank you, too."

"For what?"

"Sitting with me."

Globetrotter blinked. It was as if heaven itself was shining a spotlight on him, throwing every opportunity at him to find compassion for this mouse and feel guilty for what he'd done. Well, they'll have to try harder than that, Globetrotter thought. He wasn't going to relent that easily. And, in the most monotonous tone he could muster, he responded with a simple:

"Mmhm."

But the smile stayed. It took a lot, it seemed, to completely break Pinky.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

October 7th, 1993 - 4:02 PM

One of the first things Globetrotter noticed about his brilliant Polarizer, once it had been planted on Pinky, was that... it didn't work. At least, it didn't work on children. Said device had one purpose and one purpose only: redirection. From it a frequency was emitted that affected anyone within five feet of Pinky telepathically. They would be suddenly and inexplicably hit with a desire to preoccupy themselves with some other activity and, as such, never engage in interaction with Pinky for more than a few seconds. As long as he wore the name tag, he couldn't be touched. Poof. His newfound popularity would come to a screeching halt, no one would converse with him ever again, and he'd have no choice but to leave the school, friendless and jobless, leaving Globetrotter back on top as the most notable individual in the school. Or, at least, that's what it was supposed to do.

But it didn't. As usual, Olivia, Timothy, and Cynthia, along with Teresa and one or two others, were at Pinky's classroom at four o'clock sharp the next day, Evinrude arriving twenty minutes later (for the snacks only, of course). The day after that there was an actual line of kids standing outside the door fifteen minutes early, waiting to get in, and the day after that the line was even longer. Globetrotter could only assume that there was some fault in the hardware. But he'd tested it out on himself an hour before he'd met up with Pinky and it had worked just fine then. What was the problem? Perhaps it simply just didn't work on kids, for some reason. But that couldn't be right... Teresa was one of the college students in the school and it didn't work on her either, nor on any teacher that approached Pinky. Strange. He'd have to get the device back and tinker with it some more, he supposed. Not that that would be much of a problem. Considering how easily he'd obtained it last time, snatching it back, he figured, would be a breeze. He decided to simply wait for the right opportunity and nab it back.

Whereas Globetrotter's experiment had failed, Olivia's had gone above and beyond; in fact, it had practically skyrocketed. She now had a total of 271 signatures on her petition, an overwhelming success, in the eyes of her and Pinky. Pinky said that they had enough to approach the principal with. There was just one little problem: to ask the principal to pass their petition, that meant they had to, well, talk to the principal, something no one ever wanted to do. There was only one person in the entire school who wasn't afraid of him, that person being Globetrotter, and even he avoided the angry little maniac as much as possible. Pinky wasn't entirely averse to approaching the headmaster, mainly because he'd simply never met the guy, although there was still a lingering feeling of trepidation due to how unfavorable people talked about him. But he wasn't going to let that stop him. Olivia's petition needed to be signed off on, and he was going to do everything in his power to see that it did!

And so, that afternoon, directly after class, the hallways of Acme School of Arts and Sciences found Pinky marching down the hallway, Olivia's hand in his, as he and his student headed for the principal's office.

They stopped outside the door. Was it just their imagination, or did it feel a bit colder down this part of the hallway? It was a rather darker portion of the school - not as many offices and classes were down here, some of the lights had blown out and hadn't yet been fixed, and the office was situated right in the center of a long strip of hallway, making it the furthest away from the windows. The place simply had a... foreboding atmosphere about it.

Olivia nuzzled closer to Pinky. He smiled and squeezed her hand comfortingly.

"Put on your helmet, Olivia."

"Like on our imaginary trip into the caves?" Olivia whispered, wide-eyed.

"Mmhm."

Resolute, Olivia let go of Pinky's hand and situated her tam-o-shanter more snuggly atop her head.

"Okay. Let's go fight the dragon," said she.

Pinky knocked on the door - once, twice, three times...

"Come in..," came a voice from the other side. It sounded pleasant enough, but there was something a little... off about it; a sprinkle of deviance behind the honey-suckle tone.

Pinky opened the door.

The inside of this room was, if possible, even darker than the hallway. Like Globetrotter, the headmaster owned a green banker's desk lamp, albeit two instead of one, each on opposite sides of a dark black table, and it served as the only lighting in the entire vicinity. Besides a plethora of books encased in rich wooden shelving behind him, a couple of comfortable chairs spread about, a trash can, a blackboard, and a television in a far corner opposite the principal, the room was surprisingly plain. The most interesting thing about it was a standing globe of the world, one of those expensive ones that twirled around and had little red lights on it that clicked on to highlight various hot spots on the map as you spun it. Olivia liked those. She had an overwhelming desire to spin it, but was too scared to ask, especially seeing as the globe was literally right next to the principal's desk. The further away she could be from him, the better.

"Come in, my children, come in! Oh, do come closer to the desk. You expect an old hamster such as myself to see you properly from that far away?" the principal beckoned. He sat in a very tall, very black chair behind the ebony desk. Unlike the uniform layout of the room, he appeared quite relaxed. A little too relaxed, perhaps. He was reclining, bare feet up on the desk, and decked out in a comfortable-looking brown suit and pants set, complete with checkered tie. He looked as if he ruled the world, and the smirk on his face as he smoked from a thick, piping cigar only cemented this.

Pinky didn't think he looked that old - fifty, maybe? Around the same age as Brain. But he also didn't want to be disrespectful, and so he moved tepidly forward, his steps more of a shuffle than a walk, Olivia sliding along a couple paces behind him. Now that she was actually in the room, she didn't feel quite so brave.

"I hear you've arranged something of a party," the golden hamster addressed Pinky. "I must say, I'm quite intrigued. We haven't had an employees-only gathering in four years! I'm impressed you managed to pull it off."

"Th-Thank you, Headmaster," Pinky mumbled.

"Please. Call me Snowball," the hamster said gentlemanly, holding up a hand. "No need for formalities. And who might you be?" he asked Olivia, leaning over a little, the better to see her.

"O-O-Olivia, Sir."

"Olivia. You know, the name 'Olivia' comes from the word 'olive'. The olive tree is a symbol of peace and fertility, something we all hope to breed in this school. Fertile minds; obedient pupils. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Y-Yes, Sir," Olivia agreed, although, privately, she didn't understand what he was getting at at all.

"Please, Mr. Snowball, we've come to you with a request," Pinky interrupted, holding up the petition.

"Oh?" Snowball answered, cocking an eyebrow as he took a long, steady swig from the cigar and blew out an impressive ring. Olivia watched it float around the room, intrigued despite herself. It collided upon the chalkboard and disintegrated in a soft huff.

"It's a petition for a new baseball stadium," Pinky continued, holding out the paper for Snowball to take, which he did, looking it over without much interest. "We got two hundred and seventy-one signatures! I... hope that's enough?"

Only now did Pinky realize that he was twisting his tail in his paws something terrible, leaving little creases in it. He stopped immediately. Olivia had been biting at her fingernails. She also stopped as soon as she saw Pinky do so.

"So... you want me... to sign off on this?" Snowball asked, tossing a rather deadpan look in Pinky's direction.

Pinky gulped.

"Is that... all right? A lot of your students would love to have this back on the grounds! You'd be able to develop a team to compete with the other schools. We could win trophies and good sports reputation!"

"And it would be a P.E. class to add to your curriculum," Olivia added. Pinky smiled at her, impressed.

"Yes! Absolutely!"

"Hmph. You think people would go for this drivel? Two hundred signatures from a pool of three thousand is hardly enough to turn heads," he retorted, setting the petition down on the desk and pushing it towards them so hard that Pinky was thankful he was able to catch it before it clattered to the floor. "I must say, I'm not very impressed."

"B-But, it would do wonders for the school!" Pinky pleaded. "And Miss Olivia here worked so hard to get all the signatures. Didn't you, Olivia?"

"Yes, I did," she admitted, suddenly a bit bolder. Fight the dragon. Fight the dragon. "And you shouldn't be so retorshical. All the other schools have sports teams!"

Pinky gave her a side glance. Too far. Too far...

Olivia licked her lips, in-taking a deep breath for her next burn.

"I think you're scared."

And she put her hands on her hips, the better to complete the effect.

Pinky bit his lip. Olivia...

Snowball frowned. Slipping his feet off the table, he leaned fully forward over his desk, his face mere feet from Olivia's, and growled into her face: "I'm scared of nothing."

Olivia had closed one eye at this, the better to block out the dragon's harsh stare... and rancid breath. He even smoked like a dragon. But she stayed resolute.

"Then prove it!"

"Um... M-Mr. Snowball, if I may...?" Pinky barged in, desperate to fan the flames. It was bad enough she'd poked the dragon's eye in his own cave. They didn't need the fire, too. "Perhaps there's something... we could do for you in return? As a trade?"

That settled Snowball a little. He sat back in his chair, slightly amused.

"Hmph. What could you possibly offer to me?"

"Well, um... A special spot in the party, perhaps? Or a gift...? N-Narf..."

"No...," Snowball replied, waving it off and taking another smoke from his cigar.

"A... ticket to Disneyland?" Olivia offered helpfully.

"Pass."

"A... um... coupon for the world's biggest che-"

"Wait... Wait," Snowball said, cutting Pinky off. "The party, you said... Who's coming to the party?"

"Oh, um, everyone!" Pinky smiled nervously.

"Almost everyone...," Olivia mumbled under her breath, crossing her arms indignantly, but Pinky gave her a look that very clearly told her to shush or else.

"Will Globetrotter be there?"

"You mean Brain?" Pinky asked. "Oh... No, I don't think so. I invited him, but he... said he wouldn't make it."

"Brain? You call him Brain? Ha-ha!" Snowball laughed, actually clutching his chest as he reeled back in his chair. "Ha-ha! Ohhh, that's rich. I'll bet he just loves that."

Poor Pinky and Olivia didn't know what to say. They tried to laugh along, but it only came out sounding unbearably awkward, and so they stopped.

"My good fellow, you've convinced me. I'll sign your insipid little petition."

"Really?!" Pinky and Olivia bother spurted out at once, hardly daring to believe their ears.

"On one condition: Get dear 'Brain' to come to the party. It's been an age since I've seen him, you see, and I'd love to... catch up on things, as it were. Do that, and your stadium is as good as built."

Pinky and Olivia looked at one another. Convincing the most stubborn individual in the school to attend Pinky's party when he clearly wasn't interested wasn't going to be easy, but they'd come this far. Surely, they could try again... and again, if they had to? Wasn't the school worth that? Weren't the students worth it?

"Do we have a deal?" Snowball pressed them, a nasty smirk upon his sour face.

Olivia nodded at Pinky. Pinky nodded back. He looked Snowball straight in the eye.

"Deal," said Pinky.

"Deal," said Olivia.

And they shook hands with him, Snowball squeezing down a little too tightly.

"We have a bargain. I look forward to seeing him at the party. Hm hm. Brain. Ha! Oh, how positively affluent."

And they left him as such, cigar in hand, laughing his head off like an absolute maniac.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

7:24 PM

Dr. Brian T. Globetrotter snapped shut his weighted briefcase. He exited his classroom, shut the door, and locked it, as he always did. Another night; another opportunity to work in the lab. While he hadn't managed to get his magnet back, he'd certainly attended to other projects that required his attention. There was one he'd been quite eager to finish for some weeks. Tonight was the night.

Professor Ronald Pinkus opened his classroom door, but did not exit. Students first. A young boy mole stepped out of the classroom, his face still a little wet, but a smile tickling his face. He shuffled out into the hallway, Pinky and Olivia following him.

"Thank you, Mr. Pinkus," the diminutive mole said gratefully. "I wish my mom would listen to me like you do."

"Think nothing of it. Come by whenever you need to talk, okay?"

"Thank you, Sir." And, shyly, he stepped up and hugged him round the middle. "Please don't ever leave."

"I won't if I can help it, Toby," promised Pinky. "Promise."

"Come on, Toby! We're late!" Olivia kindly signaled. At the end of the hallway, Mrs. Judson stood waiting for them.

With a last squeeze, Toby parted and waved good-bye, keeping his eyes on Pinky until he turned the corner and was lost from sight. Pinky continued waving, even after his student had disappeared. He smiled warmly and sighed, deeply and satisfactorily. Closing his classroom door, he walked down the hallway... and stopped as he heard the familiar ding of the elevator. He turned in the direction of the noise, blinking. This was the fourth time he'd caught Brain staying up late to do... whatever it was he did behind that wall in the basement. He'd been too nervous to follow him the last couple of times, seeing as he'd almost been caught initially, but... perhaps it couldn't hurt to take another peek?

Two minutes later saw a pair of loosely-tied sneakers tip-toeing down the stairwell, heading covertly in the direction of the basement. He stuck his nose around the corner. No sign of him. Already, Globetrotter had gained access into the secret lab, oblivious to the intruder whom had followed him to his private dungeon. Carefully, he stepped towards the wall where he knew a hidden panel rested. Had he been a bit more observant, he might have noticed something following him this time - a camera, set high up in a far corner of the hall, small enough to not draw too much attention to itself, yet following his every move all the same.

Pinky pressed an ear up to the wall, listening intently. He didn't even bother with the panel this time; he knew it wouldn't open for him. Sure enough, he heard clinking and clanking and the occasional typing of what sounded like computer keys echoing through the room beyond, barely audible, but still within his range of hearing.

"Naughty naughty, Brain," Pinky whispered to himself. "What are you doing back there...?"

Suddenly, the noises stopped. No clinking. No clanking. No typing of keys. Pinky froze. He pressed his ear ever harder to the door. Last time this happened, he'd been able to pick up the tell-tale sign of footsteps heading for the door, but this time he heard nothing. Perhaps Brain had sat down to read a book? He almost stopped breathing, listening as hard as he possibly could...

HISSSS!

Without any warning, the door slid open, Pinky giving way as he fell to the ground, one half of his body inside the lab, the other half still laying out in the basement hallway.

"AH-HA! So it was you!" Globetrotter exclaimed, his anger unmistakable as he grabbed Pinky by the shirt collar and, with surprising strength, tossed him full on into the room, the door sliding shut behind him.

Pinky shuffled up onto his feet in haste and backed up towards the opposite wall, slamming into a metallic shelving unit full of jars, beakers, and other unusual things he couldn't put a name to. Globetrotter was advancing towards him, looking positively livid as he brandished what looked to be an X-Acto knife at him. Forget Snowball. He could handle that. This was terrifying.

"Completely innocent. HA! I knew you were up to something as soon as I saw that pencil outside my door last week. What are you after? What concoction of mine have you been looking to pilfer?!"

"I-I..! N-Nothing, Brain! I didn't even know about this place until last week! Honest!"

"HA! A likely tale. For all I know, you could have known about this lab since you got here; perhaps even applied because of your knowledge of this facility. Are you a spy? A NASA scientist? Who are you working for?!"

By this point, he was full on in Pinky's personal bubble, a hand practically choking Pinky by the tie as he brandished the X-Acto knife under his chin threateningly. Poor Pinky was near tears.

"I'm not a spy! Honest, Brain! Really I'm not! Please don't turn me into mince meat!" he begged, holding his hands up to shield his face as best he could, a near impossibility, seeing as Globetrotter was so invasive. Nevertheless, the rabid teacher loosened his grip a little.

"You swear you didn't know about this place until recently...?"

"Mmhm!" Pinky nodded fervently, his face full on wet, eyes shut tight as he tried, and failed, to keep the tears at bay.

"Hmph..." Brain conceded, grip loosening further. Well... fine. But don't touch anything! Understand?"

Another fervent nod, eyes still closed, and Globetrotter released him. Pinky clutched at his neck, gasping for breath as he rubbed at the spot where the tie had pulled on him. He rubbed at his eyes, the better to wipe away his pitiful tears.

"Wh-What is this place...?" he choked out, still catching his breath.

"My laboratory," Globetrotter replied stiffly, hopping into his computer chair and proceeding to continue in his voracious typing. "Don't touch anything."

Pinky nodded, even though Globetrotter couldn't see him. Don't touch anything. Already, he wanted very much to tickle the top of a very brown, very fuzzy-looking object sitting on a shelf near the entrance, but he honored Globetrotter's request. He didn't say he couldn't look at anything, however, and so Pinky looked, eyes wide in astonishment as he meandered about the strange facility.

It wasn't a terribly large area, but what he'd managed to fit inside of it was impressive. There were shelves of bottles, papers, strange electrical appliances, various scientific and artistic tools, rows and rows of books, and two computers, one of which Globetrotter was currently working at. A ghostly green glow hung from a double row of long lights recessed into the ceiling above, the emerald hue occasionally peppered with a soft, yellow light from a table lamp here or there. Even in this room Brain had to have his mahogany, it seemed, that being reserved for the bookshelf. But the most intriguing item in the room, by far, was a large, bubbling... something. It looked somewhat like a giant beaker, albeit a bit more bulbous, and with long tubes branching off here or there, like the stretched arms of a huge, metallic octopus. Inside bubbled some greenish concoction. Pinky wondered what it was, and tapped at the glass curiously.

"I said don't touch anything," Globetrotter warned without turning his head.

"Oh. Sorry...," Pinky apologized, taking a step back. "What is it?"

"It's for my latest plan."

"W-What plan is that, Brain?"

Brain sighed, pushed himself away from the desk, and stood up out of his rolling chair to stare at Pinky.

"If I tell you, you must solemnly swear not to spread a word about this to anyone," he breathed threateningly. If Pinky really was as big of an idiot as he appeared, he'd actually keep his mouth shut and not tell the authorities. Strangely, he was probably the only individual in the entire school whom he could trust to keep quiet. Knowing someone this daft had its perks, he supposed.

Pinky nodded and raised a hand, as if taking an oath.

"I promise, Brain!"

"Hmph. Fine. I'm planning... to take over the world!"

He said this in a flourish, hands raised in ecstasy. Pinky wouldn't have been surprised if lightning had shot out of nowhere at such a forward gesture. He'd never seen Brain this passionate before.

"The... whole world, Brain?" Pinky gasped, incredulous.

"Of course," the scientist replied, tucking his hands behind his back. "This Earth has been in a state of turmoil for years. With my genius intellect and general prowess, I'd be able to make it a better place - create a richer, more fulfilling existence for people to live in."

"Ohhhhhh! You mean like charity work! Right, Brain? Better places for people to live and all that? Good food; warm homes; happy little children playing in the yard with their puppies!" Pinky voiced, hands clasped together against his cheek as he grinned widely at the thought. "Oh! And better school systems! And no more people getting hurt. And plenty of money for everyone!"

"Why, yes, Pinky, that's... exactly what I'm talking about. With... the occasional adjustment here or there, of course."

"Like what?"

"Oh, you know... A specific rule set for people to abide by. Recognizing me as their leader. World peace. That sort of thing..."

"Sooooo... sponsorship then?"

"Um. Sure... If... that's what you want to see it as."

"Well, I think that's just wonderful, Brain!"

"Y-You do...?"

"Well, of course!" Pinky continued, prancing about the room now, not at all shy about toying with a test tube or a Newton's cradle. For once, Brain didn't stop him. "We all could use a better place to live in! Peace and love for everyone! That's what I teach every day, Brain."

"Do you?"

"Of course. If I'd known about this place earlier I would have supported you a long time ago! Although, I don't know why you have to hide it all down here. Don't you want everyone to know what good you're planning on doing for the Earth?" Pinky asked, shrugging confusedly.

"U-Uhm... Well, it has to be a secret. If anyone knew about this, they'd... probably try to stop me," Globetrotter fumbled, rubbing at the back of his neck.

"Why?"

"Well, you know... Taking over the world. It's... not exactly a normal thing to put on one's "to-do" list."

"Well, it should be!" Pinky retorted, hands on his hips. "If everyone was as kind as you the world would be a better place!"

Just then, Pinky gasped, struck with a sudden idea.

"What?" Brain asked, a touch worried.

"Brain! What if we keep it a secret until allllll of your plans are ready, and then we surprise everyone with a big, save-the-world party!"

"Ummm... S-Sure! That's... kind of what I had in mind, actually."

"Egad! It's brilliant! I'll handle all the party preparations when the time comes, don't worry. I'll get balloons and decorations and... OH! Cake! We have to have cake, Brain! But will two hundred cakes be enough to feed everyone?"

"Pinky...?" Brain asked tentatively. "You... promise you won't tell anyone about this, right?"

"Of course not, Brain," Pinky said matter-of-factly, waving a hand. "I mean, you did almost kill me back there, but now I see that you just didn't want to spoil the surprise!"

"So... no blabbing?"

"My lips are sealed, Brain," he promised, making a "zipping" motion across his mouth with his thumb and forefinger. "But only if you'll let me help!"

He meant it in jest, partially. Even if Brain said no, he still would honor his request to keep the secret a secret, but Brain took it literally. He sighed, facepalming. Positives and negatives, he supposed.

"All right. Fine. But just... stay out of the way as best you can, all right?"

"Promise!" Pinky swore, beaming. "Um... do you mind if I hang around here for a little while?"

Brain narrowed his eyes at him. Just because they were now technically partners in crime didn't mean that he wanted Pinky hanging around any longer than he needed to. Then again, it wasn't as if letting him stay a bit longer would hurt anything.

"Just as long as you keep your paws off my lab."

"Yippee!" Pinky exclaimed, jumping once up into the air before reengaging in deep exploration of the room.

Brain sighed, turned back around, and planted his caboose firmly back in the computer chair. Every now and then he'd pause in his typing to stare curiously at Pinky as he looked at everything in the lab, trying his darndest not to lift a finger as Globetrotter had asked. Brain rolled his eyes, finally consenting.

"Fine. You can touch the books. But be careful with them," he warned.

"Oh, thank you, Brain! I won't rip a page!"

"You'd better not...," Brain mumbled under his breath.

Pinky sifted through the books, eventually finding one he liked and sitting down cross-legged on the floor, such as a child might during reading time. Brain shook his head at this. A past conversation came to mind...

"You're also the only other person who's still around at night when I go home late. It... makes me feel a little less lonely."

He stared at Pinky once more, head cocked to the side questioningly, before turning back to his work. The lanky newcomer was, undoubtedly, an annoyance. He was oxymoronic, incredibly daft, and a thorn in Brain's side. Things hadn't been quite the same at the school since he'd arrived. He was a pest that eventually needed to be eradicated. And yet, as Brain sat there, listening to the soft turning of the pages behind him, with the occasional 'ooo' or 'ahhh' complimenting a particularly good part of the book, he had to admit that the presence of someone else in the room, someone kind and nonjudgmental and supportive, made him feel a little less lonely, too.

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

Author's Notes:

- My dad used to own (and probably still does) one of those big briefcases with the locking mechanisms on them. I always enjoyed watching him fiddle with the combination and pop open the case. Of course, now-a-days, briefcases are pretty much a thing of the past, but I still think about that big ol' thing and its locks sometimes.

- The line "... in public, Brain?" is a reference to a very similar quote from one of the original Pinky and the Brain episodes, in which Brain asks Pinky to do something simple and Pinky, misunderstanding, replies with: "Brain? In public?"

- Marvell is an original OC created by Black Geeky Girl, whom you can find on Twitter and Tumblr.

- The line "positively affluent" is a reference to a PatB-themed story of the same name on AO3 that also features Snowball. Please look it up and read it. It's awesome.

- The ending is, admittedly, a bit rushed, and I struggled with the subtext of the laboratory scene. I'm not certain how apparent it is or not, but, if you don't get what I'm going for, all the better I suppose, as you'll be just as surprised as Pinky in a future chapter.

- This is my favorite chapter so far. I had a blast composing this.

#fan fiction #pinky and the brain

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