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wukong-s-only-wife5000 · 5 months

Note

Hey I hope your doing well! I just wanted to say that I loved how you wrote my Request, and I’d like to show the boy some more love so can I Request First Date for Lego Monkie Kid Macaque? Have a fantastic day btwsss👋🏼👋🏼✨

First Date: Macaque.

Word Count: 2494.

Rating: Fluff.

Content/Trigger Warnings: N/A.

Authors Notes: Say.less. This came out way longer than I expected yet left rushed? Hope you enjoy it!

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“You're here early,” the voice scared you… it felt like a déjà vu moment, but you shook it off and focused on him.

“I didn't wanna be late,” you looked at the emo monkey boy in human form and smiled a bit.

He wore his usual puppet master outfit, but something about it this time seemed more… well-kept? Groomed, even? Right now, he had the hood down. Like last time, he looked a bit weird to you since you were more used to seeing the emo monkey boy and not emo human boy. He was handsome nonetheless, though.

“You look gorgeous,” he said as he got a look at you and you to him.

“So do you,” you said without thinking and smiled nervously. “I mean, handsome, you-”

“It’s okay,” he cut you off with a chuckle. “Thank you.”

“R-right… so, what do you have in store for me tonight?” you smiled up at him. He just stared at you with a small smile of his own before his mind finally caught up to him.

“Right, well,” he chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Well, you said that you wanted it to be a shadow play… so, I, um…” he cleared his throat. “I made one for you.”

“You… made one for me? Like from scratch?” you asked in both shock and curiosity.

Your entire face felt hot from the blush that took over when he said that. You’d never expect that he or anyone would make something like a play script just for you, granted this would be the second time he did. It was definitely unexpected and most flattering if you were being completely honest.

“May I?” he asked. You looked at his hand he held out for you, that charming yet mischievous smile made your heart race as you placed your hand in his.

“You may,” you replied with a small smile.

“Are you scared, (Y/n)?” he mused a bit.

“Me? Scared? Pft- don't be ridiculous,” you waved him off, which made him chuckle as he led you inside.

“Date never killed anyone,” he chuckled.

“You haven't watched enough horror movies,” you teased him.

The theatre room was empty as he led you to and sat you down front and centre. Before you could question him on whether or not he rented out the room for just you two, he put his hood up and the lights dimmed a bit.

“Ladies and gentlemen… tonight, you're all in for a treat,” you looked at him in question before you noticed there were people in the room; you were the only one in the front. You were sure it was empty before, though, but you shook it off and zeroed in on Macaque.

“This story was made for the gorgeous creature in the front row,” he gestured to you with a grin, which made you shift a bit as people watched you. You gave him the ‘I'll kill you later’ eyes, but his grin only grew wider as his head lowered to cover his face except his mouth.

This story had everything you loved: action, mystery, tragedy, romance. It felt unlike him, but at the same time, how he told the story was breathtaking and had many on the edge of their seats. The main character was a heroine who fell in love with the villain and changed him… only for the villain to lose his life while saving her.

The story had ended with the heroine marrying the villain who had actually faked his death in order to keep her safe from his enemies. It was an entire rollercoaster of emotions and maybe because it was written for you that you were more invested in the story than you normally would be. He took your breath away and his smile when he saw how much you were enjoying it shone brighter than Wukong.

“Did you like it?” was the first thing he asked once everyone left, and he walked over to you.

“I loved it,” you smiled up at him. “I never would have thought that the Six Eared Macaque would be this good at writing,” you teased, which successfully made him all bashful and shy.

“I'm glad you liked it,” he chuckled a bit and sat to your left as he shifted back to his emo monkey form. “To be honest… I kinda made up the last part.”

“You mean you killed off the villain?!” you gasped dramatically and nudged him playfully with your shoulder. “You monster… how could you,” you said dramatically, which made him laugh a bit.

“But I saved him, don't hit me for that,” he chuckled as he put his hands up in mock surrender.

“It was still pretty good, though,” you smiled, looking ahead at the stage. “You must really enjoy doing these.”

“It’s just a hobby,” he shrugged a bit.

“Don't think you can try to be all indifferent now,” you looked at him with a smile and nudged him.

“Fine, fine… it's a hobby that I really like,” he admitted. “Especially now that I have a fan,” he looked at you with a small smirk.

“Oh really? And who said anything about me being your fan, hm?” you teased as you folded your arms.

“I had a pretty good hunch,” he said confidently. “You wouldn't have suggested our date be a shadow play if you didn't really like it… so you're obviously a fan of mine.”

“Fine, maybe I think that your shadows are pretty cool,” you smiled a bit to yourself. “I really like how well you use them to tell your stories.”

“I appreciate that,” he looked at you.

Your smiles never seemed to disappear when you were around each other. Neither of you had ever smiled so much at anyone, especially Macaque. Yet, being with you like he was now… it brought him an odd sense of peace and made his insides and outsides feel warm and fuzzy, I mean, forgetting that he is fuzzy.

“What do you wanna do now?” you asked without even thinking.

“Well, I could show off a bit more,” he said as he let a shadow clone appear on your right, which scared you at first.

“Do you get cold easily?” you asked.

“I'm covered in fur, (Y/n),” he mused.

“Touché,” you shrugged as you stood up.

You tried to ignore how cool you thought the clone was so as to not fill up his ego by letting him know how cool you thought it was. Sure, you'd seen Wukong’s clones a lot before, but that never meant that you always thought it was amazing every single time! I mean… they made clones! Yes, you have abilities too, but this wasn't about you.

“Did you want to go somewhere?” his voice brought you back to reality.

“We can go for a walk to the park, there was a full moon out,”

“Do you like the moon?” he asked with a small smile. You were too adorable for words.

“A lot,” you grinned a bit.

“Let's go for a walk, then,” he made his clone disappear into the dark void before he stood up and opened his hand again for yours. “(Y/n),”

“Yes?” you asked softly.

“Can I hold your hand while we walk?” he asked in a gentle tone that made your heart want to explode.

“Mhm,” you nodded.

That was all you could get out as he took your hand and led you out through the back exit. Your insides were on fire, but he wasn't any different. He didn't know where that courage came from, but he was glad that he asked. Your hand was small, but it felt so warm and though it wasn't very soft. It was between smooth and rough, which showed you were a hard worker and he loved that about you.

The walk down the alley to the streets was as quiet as the night before when you waited for the others to arrive… which they never did, by the way.

“Be honest with me, Macaque,” you glanced up at him.

“Sure,” he gave a nod, curious of what you wanted his honesty on.

“Did you do something to MK and the others to make them not show up yesterday?” you raised a brow. He laughed a bit and lifted your hand he was holding to kiss the back of it.

“Guilty,” he confessed, which made you laugh a bit, not minding the hand kiss even though your heart never seemed to slow down.

“What’d you do?” you asked in amusement.

“Let's just say… I called in a few favours,” he grinned at you.

“You didn't!” you laughed. “No wonder Wukong was so pissed off.”

“Well, when I heard you were coming too, I wanted to take the chance to talk to you in private,” he confessed as he looked at you. “Of course, you know that if our buddy Wukong was there, he’d have made sure I was in another theatre entirely.”

“Point taken,” you smiled a bit. “Were you really that desperate to get me alone?” you teased.

“Talking to you in person is way better than talking on the phone or texting,” he stated.

“I guess,” you chuckled and shook your head. “Such a trickster.”

“Guilty again,” he chuckled as he let go of your hand and instead wrapped his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer. “This okay?”

“Y-Yeah… it’s fine,” you said softly, face bright from all the blood rushing to your full cheeks. He smelled so good, like pinewood and some amazing cologne. His body was so warm and the fur on his wrist tickled the skin of your arm.

“You were shivering a bit,”

“No I wasn't,” you looked up at him with a smile.

“Guess my eyes aren't what they used to be,” he joked.

“Real smooth, emo boy,”

“Emo boy?” he mused.

“Yeah, emo boy,” you looked at him with a slight grin.

“If you're calling me that, then I'm freely calling you plum,” he shot back.

“Macaque,” you said, which made him chuckle.

“Nah, I'm still calling you plum,” he stated with a slight shrug before he pulled you closer to him.

“Fine,” you sighed softly. If he was anything like Wukong, he wasn't going to stop calling you that.

“Wasn't as long as I thought,” he smirked, referring to when you told him having nickname rights would take a long, long time.

“Hey, look,” he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “It really is a full moon,” he said and pointed to the empty sky.

You didn't know when you got to the park, mostly distracted by Macaque and his voice and his body close to yours. The view of the night sky from the park was breathtaking, you mentally thanked yourself for suggesting it.

The rest of the night was spent with his arms wrapped securely around you to ‘keep you warm’ even though it wasn't exactly cold out. You didn't want it to end, but he didn't want to keep you outside too late.

“I don't think I can teleport…” you glanced away with a small pout. Macaque smiled a bit at your adorable behaviour.

“Oh really?” he mused. “Do you want me to teleport you, then?”

“Yes, please,” you looked at him with an eager grin and a childish glint in your eyes.

“I don't know, plum…” he tried to play hard to get. “It might be dangerous~”

“Danger is my middle name!” you declared, which made him laugh.

“Alright, alright, I won't make you beg,” he chuckled. “But, this transportation isn't free,”

“Oh, really?” you mused as you folded your arms. “What's the fee?”

“One kiss for one portal,” he said as he looked down at you with a small smirk.

“W-What?” you stuttered slightly, not expecting it but not surprised either.

“What? I'm sure a beautiful woman such as yourself has kissed someone before,”

“Of course I have! But that isn't the problem,” you said defensively. Sure you've kissed people in your long life… but this felt different for some reason.

“What is the problem?” he raised a brow, his smile never wavered.

“Well…” you trailed off, not really knowing what to say.

“How about… since it’s our first official date, I give you a small kiss,” he suggested. “Sound good?”

“Okay,” you nodded, you were sure you hadn't stopped blushing since he asked to hold your hand back at the theatre.

“Great…” he held that same hand while his other hand held your chin. “Can I kiss you, (Y/n)?”

“Yes…” your voice was soft, your eyes locked onto each other like you were the only beings in the universe.

“Alright,” he smiled a bit before he leaned in close, placing a kiss on your forehead before he pulled back and let your hand go. You were… flabbergasted. You never expected that…

That tease! You thought to yourself as you looked at him as he stretched and cracked his knuckles.

“It’s really late,” he looked at you with that cocky smirk. “I’ll need your address.”

“Oh… right,” you nodded and gave it to him, you were surprised that he knew the area.

“If you're scared, I can go with you,”

“Nope,” you shook your head as he opened the portal. Your heart was beating too fast all night for you to think about him being in your home… Alone with you.

“Suit yourself,” he struggled with a chuckle. “If you're scared, you can close your eyes and jump in,”

“Okay…” you nodded… only for him to move it below you. “Jerk!” you yelled before you fell in and, thankfully, landed on your couch. You stared ahead and cupped your heated cheeks. “Stupid emo monkey,” you puffed your cheeks a bit before your left hand moved to touch where he kissed…

That dork… you smiled a bit to yourself.

He teleported you to your place with a smile, but when the portal closed, he frowned. He held up the hand that held onto yours most of the walk and narrowed his eyes at it. It felt cold now, his body felt cold, and he hated it. He mostly hated himself for opening his big mouth and sending you home. He hated himself for being this hung up on you… but he would never trade the feeling you gave him for the world. He wanted to be selfish and let you stay with him till the sun came up…

His fingers lifted to touch his lips and a small smirk formed. The warm touch of your skin still felt tingly against his lips, he wished he’d kissed your lips, but that was for another time. You were so nervous, and he didn't want to do something that would make you uncomfortable. He had to be patient with this and go slow… thankfully, he was a very patient emo monkey.

Silly plum… he mused to himself.

#request #x reader #lmk #lmk x reader #lego monkie kid #lmk x reader lmk macaque x reader #lmk macaque #lmk six eared macaque #macaque lmk #six eared macaque #lego monkie kid macaque #monkie kid macaque #macaque #lego: monkey king

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fanta2y · 3 months

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Days Spent Missing You.

ahh !! fic numbero dos ! this one is a gojo x reader fic, love my blue eyed king :))

IT DOES CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR ANIME AND MANGA!

cw: a bit angsty? some talk about scars, but nothing explicit.

word count: 1.3k

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Your breath was bated, your heart beat quickened.

“Gojo-sensei has been released.” Itadori told you, all bright smiles and excitement at the thought of his sensei being back. Of being able to correct all of his supposed wrongs over these past two long weeks.

But you felt your stomach flip at the words, your mind completely whiting out at the possibility. You had fought just as hard with everyone to get him back, to unseal him. But there was always a small whisper in the back of your mind, preparing your body, your soul.

What if he couldn’t be unsealed?

All that came crashing down the second those words left the young boys lips. Disbelief clearly written on your wide eyes and slack jaw. “Seriously?!”

You didn’t dare let the hope that was dangerously curling around your chest, squeezing your lungs so tight you could barely pull a breath inbetween your lips. Without responding to you, Itadori grabbed your hand and began pulling you along.

Almost dumbly, you followed him. Letting him pull you along as you focused on trying not to trip on your own two feet. Wanting to think of anything but the man you might be on the way to seeing, after what felt like an eternity of not hearing his teasing voice or feeling his comforting weight as he practically laid ontop of you.

You continued to be pulled along, focusing your eyes on the ground. Not wanting to look up incase you laid eyes upon him far too soon. Your not ready, you don’t think you’ll ever be ready.

You had spent countless nights staring up at the ceiling, tearing silently tracking down your cheeks as you clutched his pillow. You remembered all the nights you guys had spent together, not even just the ones spent wrapped in eachother. Legs tangled together, breaths intermingling. But the nights spent cuddled into eachother, so close you couldn’t tell where one ended and one began. The hushed whispers of meaningless conversations, trying to hold back giggles as he made you laugh harder than anyone you’ve ever known.

You hadn’t laughed since he got sealed.

It was like the joy had been ripped from you and trapped in that god forsaken box right along side him. Your eyes dimmed and your voice had no inflection, speaking in dull monotones as you tried to focus on the next task ahead. The next task that would hopefully lead you closer to getting him back to you.

Too much had happened between Shibuya, the Culling Games and then now for you to have even thought about processing the well of emotions that had sat painfully against your heart. And now that everything was all coming to a head, that you might actually see the love of your life again. Nothing felt real, not the hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, or the dirt you can feel under your worn out soles.

You heard him before you saw him, the voice all too familiar. On instinct, your head raised. Catching the glimpse of stark white hair, you felt the familiar all encompassing aura that was his cursed technique.

“Gojo-Sensei!” Itadori called you, waving his hand in the air. You could tell he felt lighter now that he was back, who wouldn’t. His smile was easier, his steps were lighter, his eyes didn’t carry the weight of all the horrors he had seen. Instead they shone, maybe not as bright as when you first met him, but mugh brighter than they had all those days ago.

“Satoru.” The name fell from your lips, breathless. Before you had even realized what you were doing, the next thing you felt was a solid chest and arms snuggly around your waist. You practically jumped into him, legs wrapping tightly around his torso. Arms almost crushing his neck, head buried so far into his neck. Your eyes were tightly shut as you willed yourself not to cry.

“Hey, pretty girl.” He whispered gently in your ear, it made your heart flutter. You stood no chance against the tidalwave that was your emotions. The tears flowing freely down your face.

“I missed you, you stupid stupid idiot.” You said wetly, a giggle following your words. A poor attempt at trying to be mad at him, you both knowing that could never last long. He chuckled at your antics, you felt him kiss your forehead and spin you around playfully. Pulling squeals and giggles from your lips and forcing you to hold on tighter to his muscular frame. Not that you had anything to complain about.

“I know I know. I’m terrible. I’m so sorry,” His voice dipping into the sadness he felt deep in his heart. “I’ve missed you so much too.”

After Satoru had properly went around saying hi to everyone, getting filled in on all the new mishaps and events. You strayed never far from his side, your hands always intertwined or even shamelessly you found yourself sitting in his lap. He was always more of a pda person than you were, but after all this time apart you couldn’t find yourself caring much. As long as you could feel the steady heartbeat underneath your ear, and hear his timbre voice flow over your figure.

The long day left you both emotionall exhausted, and yet here you both sat. Criss cross on your shared bed, simply staring at eachother. Eyes never leaving eachothers frames, almost too scared to look away for too long least the other disappear before their very eyes.

“C’mere.” He mumbled, holding his arms outwards towards you. Silently, you crawled forward. Situating yourself into his embrace, you sat straddling him. Your legs on either side of his hips, caging him in. Your arms wrapping around his middle, your head buried into his chest.

“Let me see you.” He whispered, pulling your face from his chest. His heart aching at how different you looked since he last saw you. His fingers gently tracing over the new scars you sported on your face, his thumbs swiping under the dark circles ever present under your eyes.

A frown tugging at his lips and he took in all that you had to go through without him. It made him angry, angry at that brain curse, angry at himself, angry at all of jujustu society. You hadn’t deserved that, he told you. He promised he would always be there to protect you, and yet when you needed him most he had to get stuck in a fucking box.

You watched as his thoughts overtook, his eyes glossing over slightly. “Hey, ‘toru.” You said, lifting your hand up to cup his cheek. Hoping to bring him back to the present day.

The clairty returns in his vision at your gentle touch, instintually he leaned into it, nuzzling into your hand. You giggled at his antics, he turned his face to kiss your palm. Closing his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath in. He opened his mouth to speak, but before the words could come out,

“I don’t blame you.” Your voice was stern, it rang with a finality that took him by surprised. You knew him better than most anyone else, you knew exactly where his mind was going and you couldn’t sit back and let him destroy himself over something he didn’t do on purpose. “So, don’t blame yourself either.”

Your last words were gently, hushed as you leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. You attempted to pull away, but Satoru was quicker. He followed your lips, pressing them more firmly against each other. Your lips and tongues danced against eachother softly, and as you both pulled away panting heavily. Your foreheads rested against eachother, matching smiles on your faces.

“I love you.” You murmured into the undisturbed air.

“I love you more.”

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authors note: thank you guys for all the love on the last fic!! I hope you guys enjoy this one as well!! I've been cooking up some good ones so prepare to be sick of me LOL anywayysss comments and reblogs are ALWAYS appreciated <3333

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #jujustu kaisen #jujustu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen fanfiction #gojo satoru fanfiction #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #my blue eyed king #jujustu kaisen anime #jujustu kaisen manga #ugh i want gojo so bad yall #its not even remotely funny tbh #i hope you guys enjoy :))#<333

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hannahmanderr · 6 months

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Valerie and Danny, 50, for the kisses? (“last dying breath” can have any interpretation - go ham!)

~ 50. kisses with their last dying breath

(i did indeed use an Interpretation of this prompt. tagging @duchi-nesten for what will be obvious reasons) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ There were too many of them.

Danny managed to fire off an ectoblast. It struck an enemy, evaporating it into bits and pieces, but where one was destroyed, there were a dozen more to take its place. They swarmed forward, clearly eager to avenge their fallen kin.

He was oddly reminded of the thrall army he'd faced at Pariah's Keep. Of course, that army had been far worse than this one, but he'd had the advantage of a tricked out mech and his own ragtag army of ghosts from his rogue gallery. Here, he had nothing more than his own core, which was quickly beginning to give out, and...

"Valerie!" He scrambled to his feet, just barely escaping a swipe of razor sharp claws. She could handle herself fine, of course, but if she was facing an attack like this one...

If anything happened to her, he would never forgive himself.

The distinct metal shink! of a sword reached his ears. He resisted the urge to swear. Of course she'd be forced to rely on her sword. They'd long since discovered her suit was nothing more than a fancy paperweight here. Sure, it wasn't just any average sword - he'd given it to her himself, after all - but one sword against a mob this size...

Clumsily, he sidestepped another enemy lunging at him. He would've preferred to just rid himself of it entirely, but with his core running so dangerously low, he'd be lucky to pull off a few sparks. Instead, he channeled what remaining energy he could at willing himself intangible and making a mad dash through the horde towards the sounds of the sword and struggle.

It wasn't easy. By the time he reached her, his core was shuddering violently, and he found himself shaking. He collapsed behind her, pressed up against a rocky ledge. "How're you holding up?" he wheezed.

Valerie grunted as she swung her sword down and into another enemy. It succumbed instantly. "I've been better." Her voice was tight - the same voice she got when facing down the likes of the Fright Knight or the Ghost King. "You?"

He looked up. Without her helmet on, her hair flowed loose and free behind her. The fire in her eyes shone brighter than ever. Though her face was contorted into one of exertion and pain, there was a beauty to it, one he found to be unmatched by any being in this world or any. She moved with a finesse and grace he could only hope to match, striking down her foes with deadly accuracy.

It was no wonder Danny found himself speechless. God, I love this girl.

Except she would most definitely give him an earful if he said that out loud in the middle of a situation like this. Instead, he swallowed it down and used the ledge to help him stagger up. "I don't think we're gonna make it," he said, trying to keep his voice from shaking too much.

Because wasn't that a horrifying thought?

Valerie seemed to think so too, if the way she whirled on him with an expression of horror told him anything. "Wh- no! Don't talk like that! We'll be fine!"

"What's the point in kidding ourselves?" He didn't mean to sound so frustrated, but in a situation like this, he couldn't help himself.

She shot him a glare before focusing back on the throng quickly advancing on them. "I don't know who you think I am, but I don't give up without a fight!"

"I don't either! But if all that's gonna happen is that we're gonna die either way..."

She faltered and glanced back at him. "We're not - I'm..."

Danny didn't see the attack until it was too late. He tried to warn her, tried to throw himself in front of it, but it was too fast. With a sharp cry of pain, Valerie was thrown back into him, and they fell to the ground.

He scrambled to sit up. She sat there, in his lap, hissing in pain as she examined the damage to her side. His stomach churned at the sight, even more so when she began to reach blindly for her fallen sword.

He caught her hand. "Please, Val..." he whispered. "I don't want to spend our last moments like this."

"Y-you're being overdramatic," she whispered right back, but the sheen of tears threatening to fall from her eyes betrayed her.

Carefully, he twisted his hand so his fingers interlocked with hers. "I'm scared." It was a confession he hadn't been expecting to make. "I'm... it's gonna hurt."

The mob was upon them now. She leaned into him, and he hoped it was more out of a desire to be closer to him than an effort to keep away from the threat. Their eyes locked together.

If it had been a movie, she would've given him an inspiring speech, with an orchestra swelling behind her voice and dramatic lighting highlighting the two of them and everything. She would've confessed her undying love right then and there, and it would've been the key to unlocking some latent power within him to eradicate the whole army at once and fly them to safety.

But it wasn't a movie. There would be no eleventh hour miracle.

And so instead, as the mob launched into their final attack, she took his face in her hands and brought his lips to hers. He responded just as fiercely, using the last dredges of his energy to pour every ounce of love he could into the kiss.

The attack hit, and the world went black. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The next thing Danny felt was his head slamming into a wall.

"Gah!" He crumpled to the floor, rolling and groaning as he gripped the back of his skull. "Uggghhhh, I think I broke it. I told you it was gonna hurt."

Valerie snorted. He cracked open an eye to see her sitting at her desk. A familiar, pixelated "GAME OVER" screen flashed behind her as she grinned down at him with crossed arms. "You only have yourself to blame," she said with a cheek that could only be rivaled by him. "I told you you'd regret overshadowing the game, but noooo. You just had to get the 'authentic Minecraft experience'."

"Exactly! There's no better way to get an authentic experience than by doing it first hand!" He rolled himself to sit up. The same "GAME OVER" screen taunted him from his laptop. "So really, I still win."

Even if he forgot just how violently games liked to throw him out when he died in-game. But he would never admit that out loud.

Valerie hummed. She spun back around and clicked to respawn. "Maybe you really did hit your head too hard. I wouldn't exactly call getting owned by a mob of Creepers 'winning'."

"Look, how was I supposed to know they'd spawn all over like that?" He stood up and stretched like a cat before walking over to her. With a grin of his own, he propped his arms on the back of her chair and leaned down to rest his chin on her shoulder. "Besides, getting you to kiss me like that? In Minecraft? That was a win all its own."

He didn't need to see her face to know she rolled her eyes. "I only did it because I knew you'd come back and get all melodramatic if I didn't. And it doesn't count as me kissing you if it was my avatar kissing you."

He laughed and turned to plant a kiss on her cheek. "Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Red." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ~ Send me a ship and a number from this ask game and I'll write a drabble or draw a sketch!

#danny phantom #danny fenton #valerie gray #gray ghost #hannah writes #ask game #ask hannah #minecraft #bibliophilea #SORRY NOT SORRY #i saw dying breath #i saw any interpretation #i took advantage of it hehe #cue endless jokes where danny calls valerie his minecraft gf #thanks for the ask!!

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a-spell-a-rebel-yell · 1 year

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December

wow, i'm sooo good at procrastinating. hehe hi pals, hope you're all doing great! i swear i promised myself i'll write the Dec post on Dec 31st, 2022, but i managed to post this one on Jan 1st, 2023 :-) oh well.

don't blame me for spending quality time with my family and cousins for the new year's eve! i got distracted (again, for the 28648236th time) it was so fun, with my mum's guidance we cooked our favourite spicy Tom Yum, penne bolognese, and kimchi fried rice!!! yes, it was a Thai-Italian-Korean meals day kind of thing.

then as we count down the last hours of 2022 we did the family tradition: horror films marathon! this time we're exploring/rewatching Indonesian horror films. we got KKN Desa Penari, Pintu Terlarang, Modus Anomali, and then Pengabdi Setan 2. yes, in this house we love Joko Anwar's works.

in the last five minutes of 2022 we got up, stretched, went outside, and played with some firecrackers! purposely turned off the garden lights so it'd shone brighter. took photos and videos, then we went back inside. being in the middle of the city, on midnight the noise of fireworks shooting up to the sky was loud. it didn't stop for a whole fifteen minutes, but we enjoyed it: free entertainment!

sleep time yet? nope. it's indomie time!!! we watched a few episodes of How I Met Your Mother and Raven's Home for good ol' times' sake. had more talks, then at 3 AM we all went to bed. went without saying, we woke up pretty late today hehe.

i'm going backwards here because after that Dec 31st review, now let's talk about December in general. as usual, as predicted, it was a-ok month, just like any other month. i think the highlight that is the Labuan Bajo trip is already covered in the November post. on second week of December i had a scientific forum meeting and i got to see some of my Weekend Ceria besties! it was a bit of a funny coincidence that our little reunion was just a little bit over one year anniversary of our national dentist board exam day... though now each of us is so busy with our own work, it's getting super hard to find time for us to meet u___u

on last week of December my favorite Brisbane-based cousin came home to Indonesia for a three-weeks vacay! so happy to see her again and this time i get to meet her boyfriend (which after a lengthy session of interrogation i found is so nice and so in tune with me, so he passed my test haha) and we're planning a cousins sleepover this first week of January (will do write the story on the next post!) still kinda sad though because another favorite cousin of mine just moved to Frankfurt a few months back and he said he won't be coming back to Indonesia for approximately five years. the cherry on top is getting another cousin i haven't met in so long to join us in this little gathering!

overall this month i get to spend a lot of time with my family and cousins, which energized me to the fullest. 2022 has been nice to me and i'm so excited with what 2023 has to offer. i have no room in my life other than for these people, my loved ones, my immediate family. again and again i'm so grateful for my mum and dad, the solid rock and pillar and foundation of my life, that are always there for me, no matter what and when, in the most literal sense. late night talks with my mum and alone dates with my dad are my talisman, i carry their light, i have them with me wherever i go.

this year i'm so glad to finally know and learned which ones to keep, when to walk away, put healthy and respectable boundaries, to fight and try again, and to keep on going despite all. to finally know what i want and look for, and to never be sorry to save myself first. to do good and be good. to believe and trust time and Allah's plans, whatever is mine will find its way to me, sooner or later.

so, happy new year to you lot! wishing 2023 to bring us all only good things and happy days all year round. especially for you, the one and only you, over there across the world, just like how i've told you so many times over eighteen long years we've been best friends: i hope you're always happy, healthy, and loved.

#alhamdulillah #thanks 2022 #adios ciao adieu au revoir farewell auf wiedersehn #hello 2023 #let's play the game #and win it! YEAH #bismillahirrahmanirrahim

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inupibaldspot · 3 years

Text

Our Snowfall

Pairing: Baji x Reader

Request: OPEN

Note: I cried writing this I’m in so much pain rn 😭

Baji slowly opened the door,revealing room of white color, with faint sent of medicines and anti-septic's.

Earlier he was playing catch with Mikey outside, but Mikey wanting to show off threw the ball too hard making the ball zoom across the sky as it breaks the window to a hospital room.

Baji was about to shout at Mikey only to find the blonde boy had disappeared without a trace. And now Baji was on a mission to get his ball back.

“I’m sorry for breaking your window.” Baji bows his head from the door.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Baji blinked in confusion. The voice was that of a young child and not an adult like he was expecting. He raises his head to see a small figure ,who looked really weak.

The person smiled. “The ball is on the table there. It would be best if you left before nurse comes back.”

Baji nods as he walks in and takes the ball. He notices that the broken glasses pieces were already picked up and clean.

Baji turns to look at you. “My name is Baji Keisuke. What is yours?”

Your lips curl into a weak smile. “My name is Y/N…”

Baji walks towards you. “Are you sick,Y/N?” His expression was somewhat worried.

You nod. “I’ve been here forever.” You laugh. “Mama told me I can’t go outside because I get sick easily so I stay at the hospital so Mr. Doctor can help me…”

Baji frowned. He was always an active kid who spend most of his time playing around so when he heard that you don’t get to go outside,it made him sad. “Is it okay if I visit you sometime.”

Your eyes widens as color appears on your cheeks,you then smiled brightly. “I would love that!”

True to his words,Baji immediately visited you the next day.

Ever since Baji entered your life,your life has been full of colors. Baji would always talk about how he spend his day,he would talk about his friends and all the crazy thing they would do.

He would always visit you,never making you feel lonely. Along the way he even introduced some of his friends. First he brought Mikey along and then the next Mitsuya and Pachin.

You were scared at first when Baji said they were in gangs but when you got to know them,they were just dorks,lovable and funny dorks.

“I heard this time we are going to have a white Christmas.” You said as you looked outside.

Baji who was cutting apples for you, stopped as he looks at you. “Are you going to be with your parents?”

You shook your head. “Both my mom and dad are going to be busy with work so they said we can’t celebrate it with me this time.”

You smiled as you turned to look at Baji. “But the nurses said they’re going to set up a Christmas tree so I’m excited!”

Baji looks at how your eyes brightened when you talked about the Christmas tree. You looked so happy talking about and that made you seem so much beautiful.

“I’m sure it would look so pretty-“ Your words came to a halt when you started coughing. The coughing never seemed to die down making Baji rush to your side and when it finally did,there were blood in your hands. He looked at you in horror but you didn’t seem to panic,rather you looked as if you were think ‘Not this again.’ As if this happened regularly.

“I’ll get the doctor real quick!” With that he rushes away.

…….

To your dismay the Christmas tree was smaller than expected but nevertheless you enjoyed the cake your parents ordered for you,you ended up eating them with the grandma next door.

Maybe it was because you weren’t with Baji today,the day felt bit gloomier even-though it was such a joyous day. You missed Baji.

Just when you were about to sleep,tiny knocks were heard at your door. “Psttt, Y/N.”

You look at the door confused. “Baji what are you doing here?”

Before you knew it,Baji makes you wear a thick jacket and cover your neck with a muffler not answering your question.The wide grin on his face perked your curiosity more.

He then kneels in front of you,his back facing you. “Get on!”

“Huh?”

Baji turns to you and he gives you a grin. “I’m going to show you a huge Christmas tree.”

Baji and you then sneak out of the hospital as he carries you to the main town. You gleam at how beautifully the place was decorated. The air outside was cold but it was so fresh, so much frsh as compared to the air in your hospital room.

“It started snowing!” You shouted excited as you raised one of you hand to try and hold it,only for it to melt as soon as it touches you. “The report was right! We’re having a white Christmas!” It was your first time actually being outside when it was snowing, normally you'd only watch the snow from inside.

Places were beautifully lit, decorated with lights filled with joyful atmosphere. Some with their family others on dates. As people start to stare at the sky taking in the entrance of the snow.

“We’re here!” Baji stops walking as he nudges his head at a particular direction.

There at a distance was a huge Christmas tree, decorated with fairy lights, colorful bulbs and small other decorations. “Wow…”

“Beautiful isn’t it-“ Baji stopped speaking as he looked at your expression. Your eyes gleamed as it shone,from all the lights, you nose and cheeks slightly flushed from cold but the most beautiful part was your smile.

You burrowed you face against Baji’s neck,making him feel ticklish but he didn’t mind it rather he love it. “Thank you Keisuke …” He could feel your breath against his neck.

“I’m so glad I could spend the Christmas with you…”

……

“I hate school!” Baji shouts as he messes his hair in frustration. “I don’t know why I have to study this bull shit!” Baji was currently in you room as he worked on his homework while you were reading a book. A pleasant way you guys would spend your time together. It has almost been two years since you guys met.

You laugh at Baji’s expression as you set down the book you were reading. “Come on now~ Don’t say that..I think school must be fun.”

Baji stops as he realizes what he did. You were someone who could never join school after multiple incidents of you passing out or getting rushed to hospitals when you were a kid.

You couldn’t experience school like he did. Baji huffs as he goes back to his books. “Fine… I’ll aim for twenty marks this time.”

“Twenty? That’s not even the pass mark.” You laugh at him. “How about you go for thirty at least.”

“Thats not the pass mark either, Y/N!“

You were about to say something when a sudden thought came into mind. “Keisuke … I actually was watching tv yesterday and I saw someone making a pumpkin themed cake…”

“So I thought I’d want to eat that but I don’t think I can complete it by myself. So how about you join me…?” Your cheeks flushed red.

You were basically asking him out on a date.Sure you guys spend time together alone but you never once made an offer like this to him. It has been months since you figured out you had feelings so Baji but you never really acted on it.

Since the thought of you getting rejected and in turn losing a beloved friend scared you to no end.

“Sure!” You turned your head quickly at his reply. Baji was smiling as well as he continued. “When would it be?”

You smile as you brought your hands together, excited. “I was thinking of October 31..”

“Ah… I don’t think I can join you then…” Baji replied regretfully. “How about November 1?”

“Sure!” As long as you could spend time with Baji, you were happy.

But then that day never came.

That day you waited for Baji to enter the room,with an untouched cake box on the table. The door opens to reveal Mikey,Draken and Mitsuya.

“Baji…Baji died during our fight against Valhalla …”

Would it be funny if you said you ate the cake while you cried? Probably,but that’s what you actually did. Stuffing you mouth with the soft creamy treat as tears pool you eyes.

Days after were as if a curtain closed closed your window, everything felt so much dim and it didn’t help that your condition seemed to worsen.

You were losing weight at an alarming rate,coughing up more blood at frequent rates. You grew increasingly weaker as you parents even took time off their jobs to nurse you.

But at certain nights you would wake up in tears,as you could barely breathe as you searched for Baji,hoping to see him with you in the room. “Keisuke…”

It was a peaceful winter evening ,the air was cold and places were quiet as white snow gently falls in the ground.

People outside were looking and hoping that the snow would set properly. Kids were already outside as they excitedly play out, parents in their homes were making food to warm themselves up.

“Stay with me Y/N!”

People were rushing all over the room as you dad hold your crying mom.

You head felt as if it was going to burst,a strong sense of nausea filled you. Everything you hear and see seemed so muffled and blur.

Despite you body feeling limp, it was twitching. You breathing which was rapid at first seemed to now slow down,accompanied with a strong aching pain.

Then suddenly all those suffering at once disappear.

You entered into a white place,as if each and every part was covered in snow.Your body felt light with no presence of pain that you were feeling just a second before.

You walked around too see that in a distance was a very familiar person.A person who made you life so much brighter. A person who you enjoyed every moment spend with him. A person you loved.

That person turns around as he expression turns into a frown.

“Why did you join me so early?”

You smile as a tear rolls down your face. “I guess I missed you too much,Keisuke.”

#baji scenarios #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers imagine #baji imagine #baji headcanons #baji x reader #baji #Baji Keisuke

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illusionsofdreaming · 3 years

Text

the next life;

Notes: It’s here. I did mention that I was inspired by one of my previous reblogs about existential conversations (here) except I took it and decided it’d probably do well with angst LOL

Ft: Cale

Of all possible endings, this had to be the least satisfying one. Away from all the main action, unable to watch the final blow and too damn tired to move into a more comfortable position. The cheers can be heard from where you were so at least you can be assured the war's been won. Finally. You groaned a relieved sigh, I can get some much needed sleep.

A nice warm drink would be pleasant too, you thought as you shivered, it's getting a bit chilly. You blinked at the dirt encrusted on your lashes. A bath. Yes, that would also be very nice. But most of all, you'd really wish you could gather enough strength to turn over just a bit just so you can alleviate the ache in your neck from having one side pressed to the ground for an extended period of time.

As if the Gods heard your wishes, you heard footsteps towards your side then a pressure against your shoulder as they gently rolled you from your uncomfortable position till you faced the sky, a much more agreeable arrangement than having your face pressed to the dirt. You grimaced as you blinked from the sun shining in your eyes. You were ready to thank the stranger, grateful for the assistance. However, the words died in your mouth when you realised who it was that helped you roll over.

"Shit.." your horror escaped from you in a laugh. "I had hoped you wouldn't be the one…"

His signature red hair was caked with so much dust it almost looked brown, but though his face was covered in dirt and blood, his eyes never shone brighter. He looked like a mess.

Cale also looked absolutely furious.

"Idiot." his face was pinched with anger, but his movements were careful as he sat down beside you, hand running down his face in exhaustion. There was a spark in the distance, probably Raon flying off to get help.

You couldn't feel your right arm or leg, not that you had any hopes of either surviving the blast when you had, with all intentions, leapt in front to receive it. You coughed, nearly choking on your blood if not for him turning you to the side to let the fluid out. He wiped the corners of your mouth meticulously. His frown deepened.

You sighed. "That bad huh…?"

Cale didn't say anything, which ironically only confirmed your worst suspicions.

"It's… alright." You breathed slowly, lips twitching into the beginnings of a smile if not for the warning glare he gave you. His eyes were vicious.

"I thought I told you to survive." he gritted, "That no matter what happens, if it's dangerous, you must run. Nothing's more important than surviving. What's this bullshit?"

You grimaced, accepting his anger. This was why you didn't want him to find you first. Anyone but him. The one who sacrificed so much to get everyone here, the one who told them to 'survive' at all costs. In the end, despite your strengths and skills, you were still human. One misstep, a fraction of a second too late to dodge, and it costed you. That was just how war worked.

"..there was a kid.." It was either you or him. There was barely any time to react, and you had leapt forward to push them aside before your mind could even process your body moving. You managed to dodge the enemy's blades, but it had been too late for you to move away from the demon who masqueraded as a child.

He gently moved you, shifting you so that your back rested against his chest, leaning on him. "Stop talking and conserve your energy. Jack and the dragons are coming."

You kept quiet, groaning in pain when his hand touched your side, squirming when he pressed down against the sluggishly bleeding wound. Deep down, you knew help would arrive too late. You had bled too much and for far too long. Your injury was also touched by demonic energy, even the ancient dragons would find hard it hard to dispel the twisted mana poisoning your blood. He probably knew all this too, but Cale had always been stubborn to a fault. He had always been the one to look for solutions even when things seemed impossible.

"Hmm..." you huffed and reached to grab the wrist of his hand pressed to your side, hoping he would ease up on the pressure, not at all surprised when he wouldn't budge. This bastard.

You let out a shaky sigh, frowning but let go of his hand. ".. humour me while we wait for help then.." He 'tsked' softly, probably wanting you to stop talking and rest but also knew he had no chance in stopping whatever it was you wanted to say. You took a ragged breath, "..do you think we'll meet each other again in our next lives?"

Immediately he glanced down, a flash of sternness in his eyes. "What nonsense are you going on about-"

"Humour me Cale. It's boring to wait in silence." You could see his frown, knew he wanted to retort and expose your bluff, but he held back. For that, you were grateful.

He took a deep breath then replied quite bluntly. "No, you're too bothersome."

You laughed, "Really?" you coughed again, blood spilling down your lips. You pretended you didn't see how his hand shook as he wiped away the stains, his grip tightening around you as your body shuddered from shock.

"Don't talk anymore." his voice was soft.

"I think I'll probably find you again.." you mused quietly.

He scoffed in disbelief at your gall of ignoring him and the idea of it all. "How would you know it's me? I might not even look the same."

"Hmm... I think I'll just know." You looked to the skies, your vision darkening. Someone with his particular brand of charm would be hard to miss. Cale Henituse is the type of person to attract a following no matter where he went. "Ha…this life was fun.. but.. I think I'd like to enjoy a slacker one next time."

"You can enjoy a slacker life this life." he corrected you.

"Mhm...sure.." you acquiesced softly as you lost your vision. "..In my next life.. when I find you again.. no matter what form.. I think... I'll fall in love with you again."

He froze in place.

You smiled wistfully. It was all the little things, the gifts and lingering touches. The long nights spent together to keep each other company, the laughter and the jokes. It was something - never addressed properly because there was war looming ahead. It wasn't time, and you knew better than anyone that it should be the last thing you should be worrying about. But before heading out this morning, you had resolved yourself to finally talk about it after the war's over. After everything's settled.

"… I'll live a peaceful life.. won't learn any martial arts.. and fall, madly, madly in love.." you coughed, "W-what do you think...?"

Perhaps if you were a better person, you would've taken it to the grave, never address the what-ifs and could've beens. But upon facing the end, you wanted to be a bit selfish. I.. can do that right?

"Shutup." For the first time ever, you heard his voice waver. But you could've been mistaken. You could no longer see; you wouldn't be surprised if your hearing failed you next.

"Don't talk nonsense. You're not dying." The pressure increased against your side fractionally, but you could no longer feel the pain.

Thunder rumbled in the sky as the wind picked up. You flexed your hand, searching and was comforted when a larger one gripped yours. ".. I'll definitely find you.. and fall in love with you again..."

"Stop talking."

You smiled, and with this last selfish act of yours, you'll also set him free. ".. don't grieve too long…you should.. live your slacker life...and I'll…" You sighed as the breath left your body and your eyes closed for rest.

…wait for you there, in the next life.

The last thing you felt was rain falling on your face.

(You'd never know that the skies had been the clearest that day with not a single rain cloud in sight.)

#tcf #trash of the count's family #imagines #cale henituse #angst #it could've been a lot worse #i could've written this in Cale's POV #reader did cale dirty #i know it sounds pretty bad #buuuut if you looked closer #perhaps you'll spot something #i realised i messed up halfway #and really did debate if i wanted to rewrite it in cale's POV #because that would've been a doozy #oh well #see it's not that bad #it was only a little pinprick of pain #like taking a shot #tcf x reader

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batarella · 3 years

Text

3 birds 1 stone - chapter 13

‘Dick, Jason, and Tim. Supposed brothers 'till the end, until all three fall in love with you. Who wins your heart?

The man who earned it, the man who stole it, or the man who always had it?’

A/N: Last chapter until the pre-finale!! I can’t believe we made it this far. This might be the series I’m most proud of! I love you guys so much. HAPPY NEW YEAR

WORDS: 10,448 WARNINGS: mentions of trauma

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST

-----

Tim:

Perhaps it wasn’t best that he asked her to come over, instead of it being the other way around. But what good were customs when it meant seeing that very smile he’d grown to work for tirelessly, the same when she’d be stricken with the best, most pleasant surprises? She did love surprises, as he’d learned to know. Whatever it was he’d give her, whatever the gift, her eyes shone just a bit brighter when she hadn’t expected what he brought her, whether it be just a cup of her favorite drink he’d stopped to get along the way or a client that wanted to pay her five times her usual price.

But maybe he should have at least sent for a car to pick her up, with his many drivers and a limo that would have made the trip more convenient, instead of having to hail for some stinky cab and go through the horrors of Gotham traffic, but he wanted nothing more than for this to catch her when she least expected it, never mind how it was on that very day itself, and how calling her this day asking to spend it together would have been a dead giveaway, but he’d prepared for that. He’d asked her to come over to the office more times over the past month for the most stupid reasons not even he would have come up with, but she never grew irritated. She just went with it, without much question, as if she truly did enjoy his company. Every day for the past week. Hopefully, today, she’d think nothing of it and that it was, in actuality, just like any other day.

He looked like a creep as well, looking over the large, glass window behind his desk. He fixed his suit, tightened the tie around his neck, and made sure his hair was combed over the back of his head. His hands turned for each other for some comfort, something to hold onto, when he watched every taxi that drove by hoping it was hers, hoping that it’d stop in front of the building and put an end to this torturous waiting. When was the last time they spent Valentine’s day together? Years, at least. Of course, this made him more nervous than when he had to face a whole conference room full of people, if they even were to be called that, from the likes of Lex Luthor and Maxwell Lord and even Roman Sionis. That didn’t even do so much as raise a hair at the back of his neck.

This, on the other hand, made his hands shake so much, his palms sweaty and uneasy.

Tim looked out the window and he didn’t even give his work a glance of attention until he saw that cab, which he knew just had to be hers, that stopped right in front of the building’s entrance.

Y/N walked out of the car, and the wind decided to be nice to her and her hair, her flowy blouse, her pants that flared to her feet, and her graceful demeanor.

Tim loosened his tie. It had gone too tight. And he never allowed himself a second away from watching her look around the street, at the people that were nothing more than ants to him at that point when all he could look at was her, and he didn’t even have a lot of time to enjoy that view when Y/N walked into the building and disappeared. That’s when Tim realized he had his hands pressed up against the glass window trying to look past the corners just to have her in his sight.

A few minutes after, there was a knock on the door.

“Mr. Wayne, Ms. L/N is here to see you.”

His throat had clogged up and he had to take a few seconds just to clear it. “O-of course. Bring her in.”

His secretary shut the door, and he tidied himself as if he hadn’t already done enough of that the whole morning. Did he look too groomed? Would that give it away?

Too late. She was here. Even more beautiful up close, as she often is. He quickly took his seat and pretended to be so invested in whatever tab was open on his laptop, which was nothing more than the Google homepage.

“Mornin’, Drake.”

“Morning, L/N.”

He sounded casual enough, didn’t even look up from the screen to greet her, but when she walked closer to where he was sitting, not even a Kryptonian would have the strength not to look up and get lost in this seemingly infinite depth of a gaze.

Tim almost jumped out of his seat when Y/N leaned over to kiss his cheek, then she pressed her back against his table to rest. “Happy Valentine’s day.”

“Happy Valentine’s day, Y/N,” he sighed, then he relaxed and sat back against his chair. Idiot must have been smiling his face muscles off.

“Are you really gonna spend the day strapped to your desk?”

“It’s not like it’s Christmas.”

“And are you absolutely sure everyone in this building is as bitter as you?”

“Offices don’t celebrate Valentine’s.”

“You could have at least pasted cut-out hearts over at the hallway.”

He snorted. “Cut-out hearts?”

“Doesn’t match the boring gray?”

Tim playfully rocked her leg over to her side. “No. It doesn’t.”

She stood up from his desk, went over to the window to watch the streets, and Tim could look at her from the reflection of his laptop screen.

“So this is all you got planned for yourself today?”

“Pretty much,” he lied.

“You’re lucky you have me then,” she said. “Sorry I was late. I sent three commissions over to my clients so I won't have to work all day.”

“What were they?”

“Gifts. As usual. For their spouses.”

“Good for you.”

11:30 AM. Should be the right time now. Fuck, what did he just spend the whole morning rehearsing over and over again?

“Fine. Y/N. You got me.”

“I got you?”

Shit. Reverse. Reverse.

“I, uh, meant maybe I should take a breather. Just for today. Wanna go up to the balcony? I have one of your sketchbooks you left. We can spend a few minutes up there.”

She shrugged. Yes. “Sure.”

He pretended to spend just a few more minutes on his laptop, then he stood from his desk. She smiled at him and right then he knew she wasn’t expecting anything at all.

Oh, man. Oh, man. The veins in his neck should have popped out bleeding by now. Even the ride up the elevator felt too tight, tight, whatever the hell that meant. He just knew it was true, like some unknowable force had their hands all over his throat and there was no easing it until this whole thing blows over, which he definitely didn’t want to happen so soon. Even when he knew the longer this lasted, the more chance of him screwing up, even when this shook every core and nerve in him so much he had to be so cautious of everything he said and did, he wanted to drag this on so it lasted for so long as he was awake.

When the elevator doors parted, he couldn’t bring himself not to hold her hand, as he often couldn’t, and she welcomed it so naturally, too naturally, the kind of comfort that was none he could find in another. They walked down the halls, and when they reached the end of it, he held his breath.

He let her open the door, still holding her one hand, and when she did, he couldn’t miss a detail on her face even if he tried. The soft smile that immediately dropped, her mouth parting without her knowing, her eyes so wide they were wonderous and unreal, and the light that touched her face, the light he’d strategically placed just for that consequence, it made all else stop the way he knew it would.

He prepared for it all night, told her it was all for work when really, he wouldn’t trust any of his employees to do it the way he specifically wanted it to be. And it had to be perfect.

It would have been a lot better at dusk when the sun would have set so perfectly on the horizon before them, but that noontime light didn’t exactly do much to diminish its beauty. It was simple, really, with it just being one small table set at the center, two chairs laced with white and red cloth, flower petals on its surface, trays of food waiting for them on opposite ends. And outside of it, four poles on four different corners, with a vine of roses suspended from each end, forming a square that housed their space much like a little escape from all else around them, even the winds and the rushing sounds were to no effect. It was peace, beauty, and it was all so simple but it was that simplicity that made it so breathtaking.

At least, from what he could see out of her, it did take her breath away.

She let go of his hand and stepped under that archway, head up so one of the petals would fall onto her nose. He wanted to remember this picture of her until the end of time.

She whispered. “You did this?”

Tim’s head was bashfully held down, he couldn’t bring himself to be so smug when he should be proud of all this, but he kept his hands deep into his suit pockets, and still that itch in his throat no amount of tie loosening would fix wasn’t much he could ignore, but none of that mattered. All he could stare at was her, and that smile, that same when he catches her off guard of the many surprises he’s given her, it will forever make his day for every day he was awake. Because one day, the start of many days, this one might be all he’ll have.

Every day might be the day she makes her choice, and when she does, he’ll never have this again. He’ll never have her again, and be able to just call her into his office or visit her at home without it bearing so much more meaning than it should. And as much as it broke his heart, he distracted himself with his own efforts. He had to make this count. And perhaps, it already did.

He wanted to kiss her, right then, in the middle of her marveling over the tables and the flowers and everything. But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

But he could hold her hand. He went up to her and took both of them, and the way she welcomed them was incomparable.

And the way she looked at him, even more so.

“Is this alright with you?”

She smiled so brightly. Nothing has ever felt warmer. “Alright?”

“It’s not weird?” He held her hands tighter. “Or uncomfortable?”

“Tim, this is…”

She looked at the flowers, the table, the view that was just made for them, just for that moment. “This is everything…”

“Good. I was nervous.”

“You’re nervous?”

“Yeah. Believe it or not. I am.”

The way she swayed their arms together like nothing could ever pull them apart, not the sun’s hot rays nor the winds that wanted them to part, she was right. He couldn’t remember what he was so nervous about.

“You know you never have to be afraid of anything with me.”

“I know.”

Y/N had on the kind of smile that would have cured the Black Plague, as it cured every bit of doubt and darkness that had been left over in him that he didn’t even think to fix himself. Tim couldn’t fight it, even when he probably should, but he brought her hands up to his lips, and that smile grew even brighter. He wanted to whine when she let go of his fingers only to lean in even more when she had them holding the sides of his face. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He wanted to kiss her, again, but it wasn’t as if the warmth of her embrace was any worse. In fact, it grounded him.

Nothing he could ever think to accomplish could haul him up to the top of the world, no well-doings well enough that would make him soar to such great heights, as much as having her so close to him that he could feel her hair within his fingers, face to his shoulder. And he’d give up everything, the whole company even, if it meant having this kind of contentment for every day he was alive.

He didn’t let his mind trail off to even more buts and what-ifs. He just took this moment for the whole of what it was. And it was perfect. He didn’t even have to try. She was there. He was there. Tim could have this day and make it last for as long as he wanted it to, even when it wasn’t possible.

“So,” she loosened her hold around him and went over to the table, arm around his waist. “What do you have for me?”

“Pasta. Roast beef. And whatever side dish you want.”

He took the two lids off their plates and her face lit up even more as if it were possible.

“You’re a saint.”

“Thank you.”

He pulled her seat for her to take, and he sat down across from her. Even if she weren’t prepared, still she looked so radiant and perfect, and not even the flowers could grow into such bloom, going against the lights like she were a reflection from every bit of serenity there was to be seen, a mirror to the world.

He had to stop staring. He was starving.

Tim poured her a glass, then they clinked their glasses together at the brim.

“You know,” she took a sip. “I don’t remember you doing anything like this when we were together.”

He started slicing his beef, but he knew he was in for a whole day barely getting a bite out of their plate. “Come on. I wasn’t that bad.”

“I didn’t say you were. Just that it wasn’t anything like this at all.” She held her hands holding her knife and fork up to point at the flowers. “And it’s highly unlike you.”

He shrugged. “You welcome to change?”

“Oh, I do.”

He wanted so badly to reach for her hand over the table. “So what did I do for you all those years ago?”

“Mmm,” she chewed on her pasta and swallowed. “Let’s see. We were together for two years, but we made it through three Valentine’s days.”

“The first one?”

“The first one you took me to the zoo.”

“Ah.”

“We spent the whole day there. And in the petting area, you almost got mauled by a kangaroo.”

“Kangaroos are assholes.”

She laughed and took a bite out from her fork. Her hair fell to the side of her cheek. He resisted pulling it behind her ear.

“I loved that day,” she sighed, eyes on her plate. “It was my first Valentine’s day with someone else.”

“Mine, too.”

She twirled her fork around her pasta. “I remember it started to rain, and you gave me your jacket even when I told you it wasn’t cold. It was our first month together.”

“I was nervous.”

Her smile grew wider.

“Then we spent almost an hour under that shed. It rained pretty hard, but we didn’t even care. We just sat there and waited until it stopped, and after that, we kept walking around even with our shoes wet.”

He could think about that day until it grows dark. They were still so young, yet he never could say he was any less in love with her now, maybe even more.

Tim swallowed.

“The second year was that time we went to New York.”

She sighed as if looking back to a time so light and free, which it certainly was. The amount of begging he had to go through with Bruce. It was immaculate. Just to have a day in New York, to an art gallery that went on that didn’t often happen in Gotham, and so many other places after that.

“Not gonna lie, you surprised me with that.”

He shrugged like it was nothing. And compared to the results it yielded, it really was. “New York always has been so romantic.”

“I loved it. So much.”

He drank half his glass just to ease that pain that eventually faded away, and it was easier when he had her to look at.

It was nothing more than a few seconds, maybe even less than that, but when Y/N pulled a strand of her hair behind her back, pulled it up so no longer would it frame her face and instead, expose her skin and the radiance of her cheeks, her eyes now shown under so much light, the amount it truly deserves so not a speck of it wouldn’t be shown, Tim almost dropped his knife on the ceramic plate, and that would have stopped her tracks. But, thankfully, he didn’t, and he got to watch her fix her hair, eyes down on her food, and when she looked up, her smile completely destroyed him.

Fuck everything. He can't hold back from this.

“You look beautiful.”

So many times, he’s said that, but never enough. Never as often as it was true. Because if he were to say it as often as he’d like to, he’d say it every hour of every day. He’d say it when she was fresh out of bed, a bed they’ve slept in together and her skin would be dry and itchy, hair messed up in all places. He’d say it in the middle of a conversation and it would be so out of nothing that it would surprise even her, perhaps make it weird even when it never was when it came to her. He’d say it to her in a million circumstances a million times, and not one of them would be from a lie.

She reacted the same way she always does, with a bashful grin, soft, proud, but not smug about it, and with her head down as she’d instinctively look at her feet. Y/N coughed. “Thank you.”

Maybe it had been too much.

But what was so wrong about telling someone so beautiful that they were just that, other than to make the world an even more wonderful place with the smile it would cause?

“Uh,” she gulped. “The third year.”

“Right.” He forced his attention back on his plate. “The helicopter ride.”

“Yeah…”

That Valentine’s day was just three weeks before he’d break it off, which was why it wasn’t often what they talk about, even when it was all the more something to remember.

“That day was…” she smiled looking down at the table like it was anything to smile about. “That day was something else.”

“It was…”

He wasn’t in the best place that day.

He didn’t know how many calls of hers he hadn’t returned because of work, because of Bruce and his place in the company they had to cover up and explain after his disappearance. There was so much to do, and every day the work just never seemed to end, and there won't be an end for a long time.

But that day, he remembered, he told himself he would have that day just for her, even when it hurt the company and possibly lose them a few thousand just for leaving the building. But he forced himself not to care, told himself she deserved this so much more than he had.

A few hours with their helicopter going a few rounds around Gotham, with her in his hands strapped to their seats, looking out their windows much like they used to, at the top of the world. Just how they’re meant to be.

The last day, in fact, that was the happiest in their relationship that still could have been salvaged if he was strong enough.

Like a shard lodged up his throat, he didn’t know if it was something he should be asking. Yet, he did.

“We could do that again sometime. Whenever you're free. If you want.”

Whenever she’s free. When he still could. When she still hadn’t chosen someone else and forever change what they have, which he’ll ultimately accept for so long as it’s what she truly wants.

“I would love that.”

“Great,” he smiled. “It’s a lot easier now. Since I have, you know, my own helicopter.”

She snorted.

The smile she had on, the longing in her eyes, the sheer appreciation she showed just to have him for herself that one day out of many when she didn’t, it haunted him for years. It haunts him until now.

When he looked up from his plate, he thought he’d catch her wiping a tear, or frowning at him for bringing up such a memory.

Still, with the softness that glowed, she smiled, because as Tim should as well, she appreciated every bit of time she had with him no matter what surrounded them, no matter the history of hurt and whatever happened next. She didn’t see it as a day to dread or a day to despise. She saw it as a day to look back to when she wanted to remember what it was like to be content.

So suddenly, it was what he felt, too.

Y/N looked up at him, caught his eyes, but she didn’t say anything. He didn’t have anything to say either. But they locked eyes longer than any two normal friends should, with that subtle burning in his chest that wasn’t something to physically feel, yet still know that the flames went on, scorching his flesh. Her eyes were longing, knowing, and he looked back at her wanting so badly to take her hand.

Who were they kidding, calling themselves best friends for so many years, when in fact they were two people who used to be so in love and definitely still are? Two exes who couldn’t move on, two halves of a relationship that had the strength to last forever but didn’t.

And it still possibly could, if it’s what makes her happy. It might.

All those years, they weren’t best friends. They were two people holding onto what they used to have in a form of another, masking it over with another type of bond when they just wanted each other’s presence the way it used to be, even when it couldn’t.

Tim didn’t take her hand, and it added one to the many regrets that’ll continue to despise himself for.

They spent the whole of the afternoon that day up on that balcony, and he didn’t even care if there were mounds of work to be done just waiting for him at his table. And when the sun started to set, when he realized that time was tapping onto his shoulder telling him that there was, in fact, an end to this day, he never thought he’d accepted it the way he did.

Outside the elevator doors on the floor of his office, it took a while for them to wait.

But that while was all he had.

He had to make it count.

Once again, possibly for the last time, Tim took both her hands and looked into her eyes like he was purposefully trying to get lost.

“Y/N…”

It was in his bag. He held off too long. He should have given it at the balcony while he still could, while he still had even more time to watch how she’d react instead of going out the coward’s way and hide behind what he thought to have been safe, even when it clearly wouldn’t be worth missing out. The elevator was coming up to their floor.

“I have something for you…”

She didn’t look surprised, but was skeptical, though that wasn’t what he was trying to do anymore.

He took a mustard-colored sketchbook from the sling bag over his shoulder. She looked confused when he handed it to her.

“What’s this?”

He just shrugged. Her eyes were so soft and yet so enticing it burned him in the chest.

Y/N opened the first page of the sketchbook and he saw her visibly catch her breath. For the second time that day, she couldn’t speak.

“I know I’m not usually there with you when you paint and draw…” He gulped. “But I thought, if I learned how to draw myself, even when I’m not so good at it, I’ll be a lot closer to you. We’d have one more thing in common.”

His drawings.

Most of them were of her, her face, her lying on the couch, painting on an easel, smiling at the flowers, or of them both with their arms around each other. Some of her favorite flowers, her favorite spots at the manor, scenes from her favorite movies, her favorite skyscrapers around the city.

Everything was about her, everything he could ever draw was about her, because, as he’d realized, he never could draw anything if it wasn’t.

She was his muse, just as he had been hers for a time.

He had his time with her, and even with the chance that that’s all that it will eventually be, his time with her, he’d grown to appreciate it more than if there wasn’t a time at all, just to ease the pain.

“Tim…” she choked.

Her embrace was that peace he will forever miss, and without wasting so much time he pushed his face into her shoulder so he could take in every bit of her depth, every bit of her scent, her form. She was here. She was here.

“Thank you so much…”

“You don’t have to thank me…”

“I do...” she breathed. He couldn’t even look at her face. “I do…”

This wasn’t nearly enough time for him to be with her. Nothing could be enough time when it comes to her. How could this day, as something he didn’t always come to appreciate, pass by so quickly, quicker than a rabbit’s thump of its foot, and without anything he could do about it?

Nothing, nothing else in his whole life, will be a bigger mistake than when he left. Now, he pays the price. This might be the last day he gets to hold her like this.

“Y/N…”

He loosened his embrace just to hold her cheeks, and she returned that hold by grabbing onto his wrists.

“Whatever you choose to do, promise me I’ll still be your best friend…”

She laughed through the tears, which he wiped off with his thumb. “That’s the most stupid thing you’ve ever said. Of course, I will.”

He laughed as well. Or pretended to. He wanted so much to cry.

‘No. You don’t understand. You won't want me this way any longer. Everything is going to change.’

‘But I’ll accept it. For you. It will all be worth it.’

‘Choose me, so you won't have to promise me this.’

But he didn’t say any of that. He didn’t have to.

He just held her tight, foreheads touching like a lifeline’s hold.

It was a lie telling themselves they were best friends all those years.

But it won't be from now on. They’ll be best friends, whether she chooses him or not, and he’ll hold onto that if it meant everything to her.

“I promise you. I’ll still be here, even if you don’t need me.”

“And I’ll be here for you.”

To just lean in and kiss her. It would have all been too easy.

But the elevator doors parted open, and with it, the end of his time.

He’ll accept this.

He accepted this.

He has to.

And frankly, with the smile she had on the whole day, he’d wish for nothing more than for it to last, even when it meant it wasn’t with him.

He kissed the tip of her forehead, just as she loosened her hold, and with their fingers lingering as they held onto each other’s warmth, he stepped into the elevator and their hands let go of the other.

She waved him goodbye, and just as the doors closed, he waved back.

-----

Dick:

It wasn’t the best idea he’s had.

But he wasn’t at his prime either, and neither should he even be in his prime. He shouldn’t, for all good cause, do anything that could possibly take this out of hand, far beyond what should be thought of as normal. Because as he’s sought out to remember, and remind himself for so many days and weeks and months, their friendship was what he should put before anything else.

And thus, he cannot possibly screw this up. It might be a tad more romantic than it should, but it was Valentine’s day. Of course, he was expected to be romantic at the very least, as everyone else should.

He just didn’t expect his hand to be shaking so much when he raised it against the door of her apartment to knock. He held his wrist, forced the tremors to stop before it’d possibly show. Would it even show? Would the knocking be any different if his knuckles weren’t stable?

It wouldn’t, actually, but it wouldn’t hurt to be careful either.

He forced his spine straight, head held up as he shut his eyes closed hopefully to ease what was dreadfully whirring about in just about every nerve cell in his body, then he breathed.

Just before his fist hit the door, he heard her voice.

“Thanks!” Y/N called out to the cab driver, then she stepped out of the car door and immediately caught her smile. It was nighttime, the sun had just set, still, she looked as bright as day. And perfect. And beautiful.

Dick stopped shaking. He stopped moving altogether.

“Dick?” She stepped over the puddle and he immediately regretted not rushing to help her. But she didn’t seem to mind. “What are you doing here?”

He took the steps down until his feet reached the sidewalk, then she was in front of him. Oblivious. Unknowing. Happy. She was grinning so much it took every bit of breath leftover in his lungs until eventually, he’d die from suffocation without there being a physical stimulant.

Dick swallowed.

“I thought I’d… visit you. On Valentine’s day. I didn’t want you to be lonely.”

Bold of him to assume she would be, of course. Judging from how she looked, where that cab came from, she was with Tim.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have. You just got home. I should be on my way-“

“No! Not at all!” She grabbed him by the jacket and he prayed to the angels above she didn’t catch how he almost choked on his own tongue. “I could use the company. Wanna stay over?”

Okay. Okay. That would be okay.

But it wasn’t what he had planned for them. At least, he could try to ask. If it was okay with her.

“I,” he started. “Actually, I had something planned for us. Tonight. If it’s alright with you, we can head out now.”

She stood there with her mouth open.

“Or not. I should have called.” Rubbing the back of his neck wouldn’t do much to ease that strain. “I’m sorry. We can-“

“No! Dick, please.” She grabbed onto his arm and led him to his car, which he’d parked over at another block. “I’d love to go with you. Take me anywhere. I promise, I’ll love it.”

He wasn’t even sure if he’d already messed up at that point and that was just her trying to salvage his own dignity or if he hadn’t done anything at all. But her smile seemed genuine. He’d know if it wasn’t.

It warmed every bit of him when they continued to walk, and he was just letting her lead the way, take him like he was made of sand stuffed into a bag or a sack. He was limp, weak. And he couldn’t have had it in another way.

Dick laughed. “Alright then.”

So lightly did it start to drizzle, and the droplets visible on their light sweaters and clothes that tickled their skin like a feather’s cold touch. He didn’t know where to start, even though, in fact, he knew exactly where to start. Is this all going to backfire?

No. It won't. Not this time. He knew what to expect, and nothing will be out of hand and nothing will have to set him back two spaces backward.

Through the sidewalks full and the lively streets, with others hand in hand with their partners and gifts being given, surprises being held and smiles and cheers for all around, it was difficult not to feel bitter being the only one who wasn’t holding a spouse or a partner.

But even if she weren’t his, she was still the woman he loved. And the fact that she was here at all, holding his arm as they turned over to the corner of the street for his car, he was the luckiest out of everyone in the block, in the whole mile’s radius. Hell, the whole city.

They got to his car and already he missed her when she let go of his arm and he stepped into the driver’s seat.

Traffic was bad, but it didn’t even matter. She was looking so brightly out the windshield, at the edge of her seat and wonderfully appreciating all else around her. It was hard not to feel the same, to be so excited for life, and even when the world had tried to pull all of her spirits down, she didn’t let it.

And he could admire all else there was if he had more time than he already had, and he had lots of time. He won't let a minute go to waste. He already had the food, the mat, the movie, everything was at the back of his car.

Thankfully, that dark, secluded spot that wasn’t exactly a hotspot for muggers in the corners of Gotham Central Plaza was still free. He had to hold back a yelp as they parked. It was perfect. Too perfect. Any sane man would suspect there possibly was something more in store than he would have hoped. But that didn’t even cross his mind.

“Alright,” he turned his car key to turn off the engine. “Close your eyes and promise me you won't open them until I say so.”

“Dick.” She looked around. “Where are we?”

“Come on. Close your eyes. Please.”

Rolling her eyes over to the other side of the window, he wanted to playfully pinch her chin. But she did as told, closed her eyes, and laid her head to the back of the car seat. He had to move fast.

He went over to the back, took everything out of the trunk, and never has he worked so fast yet so cautiously, even compared to his stealth work in the middle of a raid.

He laid out the mat and dusted the ground off of any critters that might have been littered about. He took too much time at that. A few minutes at least. He looked back at the side mirror on the passenger seat.

“I said don’t look!”

He heard her laugh so hard she had to snort, then she covered her eyes with her palms.

Okay. This should be okay. She’ll love this. He hoped. He laid out the finishing touches and turned on the projector.

He knocked on her window, then she stepped out. He put his hands on top of her eyes, as cheesy as it was, then led her over to the back. “Where are you taking me, Grayson?”

“Just trust me.”

“I don’t think I should.”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t. But you don’t exactly have a choice.”

She snorted again, then when he stopped her in place, he walked over in front of her. “Okay. Now.”

Y/N opened her eyes.

Dick wished he had a camera to remember her face by.

Always the one to appreciate the little things, the details, every bit of effort. That night, it was no different.

The first thing she turned to was the quaint little picnic he’d set up, with a red and white plaid at laid out on the grassy floor, two cushions for them to sit on, and a basket full of their food, some of which he’d already placed in plates around the mat.

In front of that mat was the trunk of the car, on top of which he’d placed a white sheet over to cover the back, making it a flat surface where the projector, that he’d placed over behind the mat, would shine on. It played the first scene of the movie 10 Things I Hate About You.

And the final piece he hadn’t thought about until the last minute, were fairy lights in two separate strings, running from the back of the car over to the tree that stood right by the picnic mat, where it would shine for all of that night.

Dick wished it were daylight, just so he could see her a bit clearer, but he was thankful for the string lights he placed, or he wouldn’t see just how much her face lit up and her eyes widen beyond what he’d often remember.

“Dick-“

“Not like what I usually give you on Valentine’s?”

Y/N’s smile softened, and she just looked at him disbelievingly.

“I’m kidding. Come on. Food’s getting cold.”

His hands were shaking but thankfully they didn’t show. And he held it out for her to take one of the cushions. She sat down, but her neck was going to hurt soon at the way she was craning it up, mesmerized over everythin he’d set up.

“This is amazing.”

“Wait ‘till you see the movie. Again, that is. For the fifth time.”

“You know exactly how to please me.”

He does.

In every way, if only he could, he would. He’d give her everything she wants, even if it were a flower on top of a cliff.

And if only there weren’t anyone else out there who loved her just as much as he did, then the only thing that would stop him was if he’d die trying to bend the world over for her. Because then he wouldn’t be there to make sure she doesn’t prick her finger on a needle when she’ll be too old to clearly see, or that she doesn’t slip on the floor when her bones grow too weak, or when she needed someone to pick out the grey in her hair when she no longer could with her shaking hands. When they grow old, and he won't be there to make sure she’ll be okay, it’ll be the only thing that stops him.

But that wasn’t the case. There was someone out there who loved her just as much as he did. Two, in fact.

Which meant that nothing, not even his death, is going to stop him from doing whatever it took to give her what she wanted and needed. Because, even then, he was sure she’ll be okay if he was gone.

He wished he didn’t trust those two enough for it to be true, but he did.

The movie went on. Heath Ledger. Julia Stiles. The dialogue over the two’s arguments that he’s learned to memorize over the many times he’s watched it with her. He didn’t even pay much attention, not when the light from the projected screen lit up her curving lips. She didn’t even look tired.

They bit into their sandwiches and he inched himself closer to her.

“What do you like most about this movie?”

Slowly, she turned her head over to him, still with her eyes on the screen like she didn’t even want to miss a minute of it.

“I like how you’d first think it’d be centered on Bianca and the two guys, but then you’d realize the story is really about Patrick and Kat. And the fact that it’s accidental, which ends up being the better romance out of everyone else.”

He finished his sandwich, and he didn’t even pick out another. He listened as if she spoke music. Nothing felt better than that moment right then.

Except, maybe, when she leaned on his shoulder, and he realized he'd never actually felt like he’s sunken so deep into a place he could never think about escaping from, a place he dreaded himself for even thinking about escaping at all, never mind how much more pain it yields and the risks to be taken.

She shifted and he could feel her hair rub itself into a tangled mess onto his shirt. And his selfishness overtook him when he leaned his head on top of hers as well and closed his eyes.

It was a shame, truly, that movies had to end at all. If he’d known, he would have played The Ten Commandments or Cleopatra or any other movie there was that lasted five hours. He would if he had to if it meant she’d stay longer that way.

It was so magical that when he’d tidied up the place and they both got back into the car, he almost forgot his actual gift for the night.

Something he wasn’t so sure about at first. Though, if it worked, it would undoubtedly mean everything.

He shut the car door, and Y/N didn’t know that when Dick looked up the windshield, up at the cloudless sky, that he was actually checking for any signs of heavy rain. Which there was, but thankfully won't be for a few hours.

“So,” she cheerfully exclaimed. It was almost midnight, and still, she didn’t seem the least bit tired. “Are you taking me home?”

“Not yet…”

It will be worth it if it works.

Just do it.

“Y/N…” he said. “Remember that time you told me you wanted to fly again?”

Y/N, as she’d expectedly reacted, looked out her window. “Yeah?”

“I have… something planned for you. But if it makes you uncomfortable, I completely understand-“

When she turned to catch his eyes reassuring him that everything he was mumbling about could only make her smile, immediately he calmed. “What are you saying?”

“It’s in the back. Hold on-“

He moved in less than five seconds, heading over to the back seat, fumbling through his bags, then he sat back down on the driver’s.

“Here.”

He handed a bag to her, and she looked at it confused. She won't be for long.

And that theory was proven true when she unzipped the bag and saw, what was most probably facing up inside the bag, her Falcon domino mask.

Two years ago, she lost her left leg.

And with that, her wings.

She couldn’t fly for a lot of reasons. One, with her being the Falcon, nightly crime-fighting wouldn’t do her any good. The nerve endings on the one leg she had left had been burnt off, and the bionic one couldn’t even move much without it straining and pulling just about every muscle she had. It broke her heart, as if it hadn’t already broken so much of her, that she couldn’t even walk the same way as before.

The other reasons were a lot more complicated, but all the more understandable. The nightmares, traumas, everything else, it would have driven her mad if she hadn’t stopped.

She couldn’t fly anymore. At least, not by herself.

He could help her fly again.

Y/N pulled out her suit, turned, and saw Dick putting on his Nightwing gear.

“We have the whole night,” he said. “If you let me.”’

It was a risk. A dangerous one.

Which made it even more rewarding when he earned a smile from her so wide that it brought tears down her outstretched cheeks.

Yeah.

This was the right choice.

A bag of art supplies would have been plan B. Thank god, he didn’t go through with that again.

Her real Falcon suit was put on display back over at her apartment, behind a hidden door in her closet she hadn’t touched for years. This one was just a black slip-on that covered most of her skin, a hood over her head, and her domino mask. Dick took her up Queen Industries, a tower that soared up the skies rivaled only by the likes of Wayne Enterprises. She picked that tower as if none of this scared her at the very least. Even when it should. Hell, it even scared him.

This won't nearly be as freeing as her wings when she’d soar through the skies and clouds without the confines of a grappling rope tying her down to the realities of human capacity, when she truly could feel like a falcon, the one thing she loved so much about her days as a vigilante.

She was nervous, he could tell. She hadn’t jumped off a building in so long, even when she loved risking her life just about every night just for the feel of it.

But this was a scene he’d longed to see, to have her in his arms on the rooftops of skyscrapers and have her to hold on to, to hear her screams of joyous bliss not just from a safe distance away, and to only have her to himself. No one else.

This was what Tim had back then that he never did, and never will have. Perhaps, except now. It wasn’t the same. But it was all the more beautiful.

She was beautiful, up the starless sky so near to the clouds where the air was thin, the bustling noise nothing more than a distant blur, and her face lit up by the many specks of light littered about this wondrous city.

He saw her clench her fists the way she did when she was excited. Dick took it as a chance to hold it. And she welcomed him like it wasn’t at all out of the ordinary.

“Ready?”

From thin air, he could make out the smoke she blew out of her chapped lips, which curved up a smile as she glanced up to his eyes, then back down on the streets that awaited them below.

“Yes…”

He didn’t let go of her hand. Instead, he held it tighter.

“Jump…”

Like she didn’t even wait for his mark.

Dick has soared off buildings more times than any bird has leaped off their nests, more times than a cat has jumped off a rooftop’s ledge. Every night since he was given his first grappling gun, the rushing wind that pushes onto his face would be the most addicting experience not everyone would know about. He knew what it was like, how close it was to flying.

But he never could call it flying, never truly felt like he had wings on his own. More like barring what the winds allowed him and glide like some limp piece of paper floating about to the wind’s direction. He always thought flying was defying those rules, defying how the earth pulls them down to where humans truly belonged. On the ground.

But flying was so much more than that. And he only realized that now, now that he was with her.

He might as well be in a bubble floating across space because never has he once experienced this kind of high in his life. and it wasn’t the wind or the heights or the risks it bore. It was her.

She made him fly.

The Falcon was never known to be a great fighter. At least, within the family, everyone knew combat wasn’t her forte.

But she did love to save people.

That was what made their dynamic with Tim so perfect. Tim handled the bad guys, roughed them up, used his brute strength to take them down, all the while distracting them from Y/N saving the hostages, from a small child kidnapped to the commissioner himself.

She was an alright gymnast, and most of the time she used it to her advantage. But she wasn’t the best.

She was never the best gymnast, never the best fighter. Everyone knew that before, and only fully realized that when it was too late.

But she was, as everyone in Gotham could plead, the best savior.

She’d save everyone in the scene and wouldn’t miss so much as a cat from a burning building, make sure everyone makes it out alive from a hostage situation, and every kidnapping in Gotham could be tracked from her computer network at home. The people were her priority. And with the loss of the Falcon, the loss of her wings, with it came the loss of a savior.

At least, it should have meant the loss of a savior.

But who was to say she hadn’t stopped saving lives? Doing what she did best? Making sure every life was accounted for and saved, even for just a little girl in a burn unit?

This was flying, and it could only be with her. She saved him. And she’ll continue to save him no matter what she chooses to do, or who she chooses to have.

He heard her delightful cries, and he could thank himself later for having it in him to take a glance, take in how she looked right then, and remember it for every time he needs more saving. Her arms were up, flailing about with the air’s upward push. She could only look everywhere else but at the ground. And with the kind of beam she had on, it was apparent she hadn’t smiled like that in so long.

Yards above the floor, he took her by the waist.

Then he shot his grapple up to the building across, and she held on with her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Don’t let go. Don’t ever let go. Forever.

She didn’t.

They shot up to the next building but he didn’t allow them to land on the roof just yet.

With an arm around her waist, the other holding both their weights as if it were nothing at all, it wasn’t him who was carrying her, holding her up to fly. It was none but the other way around.

Dick shot his grappling hook even more times, each time just before they were about to reach up a ledge. Y/N didn’t have her eyes closed for a second. He could feel her. He could feel her take in the air and the rush and everything she’s longed to miss. Everything there ever could be that used to mean so much.

It was the same music that played at the back of his ears from when they kissed up on that hill. This soft, serene piano playing without a tune he could point out but couldn’t get out of his head, that same melody so beautiful that as soft as it was, blocked out everything else within a mile’s reach.

He allowed them to reach a dome-shaped roof, and he reached down to carry her legs as well so she wouldn’t have to run or suffer the impact. Like she was made of glass, he carried her, ran across the rooftop.

She pressed her forehead tight against his cheek, and on his jaw, Dick could feel her smile. It urged him on. He leaped off that rooftop and shot up his grapple again.

Her laughter could have been heard from everyone below, and her eyes couldn’t leave the wonders that surrounded them, at the concrete jungles, the choppers in place of the birds, the beautiful noises it made from people and everything else.

Close to where they started, Dick carried her like he would if she were his bride, cradled her in his arms as he landed on a rooftop, and finally stopped. Her nerves were buzzing. It was all he could feel. Her hair was a mess. Her eyes were so wide. Her hands were in tremors uncontrollable.

But she laughed so hard and never has he heard that kind of laughter out of her from anyone else. The kind of laughter he’d grown so addicted to, that he couldn’t stop but draw it out of her every chance he got.

Then she hugged him so tight, so quickly did his own nerves calm. She was so warm, he couldn’t help but feel grounded.

This.

This was what it was like to see her up close.

Years of watching, to see her soar and not be there to hold her hand as he flies with her, to see her kiss another’s lips while they stood at the literal top of the world, at a skyscraper so tall with the world under their feet, on the most gorgeous city there was, with the bustling streets and the nosy citizens and the lights that continued endlessly.

To see her this close, to be with her, and actually be with her. To have their two souls put together and have that kind of high that couldn’t possibly be gotten from another.

If Y/N chooses him, he’ll make her fly every day. He’ll never let her forget being the flying guardian angel of Gotham. He’ll never let that image of the city taken from up above the cloudy mists be rid from her mind.

And if she doesn’t choose him, he’ll make sure that whoever it was that was going to be her eternal happiness, knows all those things and more, knows how much flying meant to her. He’ll make sure they’ll take his word to heart, so he never has to doubt her contentment again.

Y/N held him in an embrace so close, the smell of her lemony scalp and her arms so perfectly warm, he held her back immediately and shut his eyes so he’d only know the feeling.

“Thank you for giving me my wings back.”

It wasn’t even about her choosing him anymore. It wouldn’t change a thing.

Whatever happens, he’ll be there making sure she’ll go on to fly, that she never forgets the rush of the wind or the mist of the clouds.

Already, he was used to that feeling, of watching her from such distance, that it won’t be such a change if it happens again. She’ll find her happiness. She’ll choose her happiness. And all the while, he’ll be there to make sure she’ll have that and more.

No longer does he hope that she chooses him, as he selfishly longed for after so many years.

He was happy. He was content. Whatever comes out of this, it’ll be for her happiness.

And that’s all there is to it.

-----

Jason:

God Almighty, this was stupid.

And he should have known that hours ago. Three hours up on that fire exit, not once did he think this through enough to escape, as he hadn’t thought since the start of the day and he just happened to pass by the many flower shops suddenly rising out of nowhere down the street where he lived.

It was three am and still, she hadn’t come home. And all those hours, instead of finally knowing the risks of all this and back up before it was too late, he impatiently waited for her, booted soles tapping onto the ground, thinking ‘where the hell is she?’ as if he had no idea at all. He did have an idea. He just didn’t think to dwell on it.

Seeing Dick’s car pull up in front of her door, he only had such a window. Everything in him shattered. His head so light. Everything so hopelessly weak. To just flee and never come back, it would all have been so easy.

But as he selfishly allowed himself that kind of hope, as no one in their right mind should if they were anywhere near his place, he stayed. Because even in the middle of such darkness from whence he’d come from, from whence he was born into this disaster of a life, he let himself, albeit unconsciously, hold onto the fact that she still hadn’t chosen either of his brothers and with that, she might choose him, like he had such a speck of a chance, one too much than what he should have.

And it was because of that selfishness, that grandeur delusion of hope proven to be such a luxury for someone from the likes of him, that brought him to this exact place on this exact night.

And seeing that she’d just spent this hell of a day with his brothers, each one with a present for her grander than the last, what he’d done was some sorry excuse of a joke even he wanted to laugh at. This was ridiculous. And humiliating.

But it was far too late, with him standing so frozen with his hood up and the rainfall stronger, he let his clothes be drenched, didn’t care for the cold, not when all he could see was her stepping into her studio and taking off her coat. She had on a smile like no other.

A year ago, he was in that very room, and did the most selfish thing he ever could do to his brothers that he yearned to be forgiven for but still did not fully regret, not when it sparked a love for what was the brightest little star in this hellish earth, not when it was a time so wonderful that none of it left his head even after such a year.

He had that time. He had his time. Which was why he shouldn’t have this kind of hope for himself, not when it was the only time he ever had, which makes all this all the more impossible to go his way. Or at least, the way he dreamed for it to be.

All that thought changed, however, when she came into her room, stopped over her desk, and saw what he’d left for her.

It was a dangerous game, breaking into her house. And if it had gone on just a bit longer, he’d have thought all this was a messy screw up no U-turn was going to fix. Maybe he’d finally did it this time, destroyed everything with these overwhelming feelings he had no idea how to control. He didn’t know how to play this game if it was even a game at all. He’s never loved before. He doesn’t know how to love. He doesn’t know what to do after he falls in love.

She was confused. Jason could tell with the way her eyebrows bunched up at the center. Then she looked out the windows. Thankfully, he was hidden too far into the dark for her to see.

But she held that rose as if it were so much more than that, and when she let her fingers draw on the edges of the petals once so fresh, everything in him ceased. He couldn’t stop watching.

It was all there is really. A white rose.

The first Valentine’s day gift he’s ever given.

He knew his brothers would go all out, give her the world, give her the whole of Gotham, show her the heights of their immense love so undeniable. It was what she deserved.

But he couldn’t let this day pass without at least giving her something.

He still loved her, after all. Even if it wouldn’t lead to anything.

Y/N’s smile made him feel like the dorky kid at school in love with a girl he’s never talked to, leaving a flower in her locker without letting her know who it was from. And he was just that, in fact. There are no inaccuracies.

And he knew, without a doubt, that she’d get his message.

As she always does, with them having this bond, this connection like no other. Jason was, after all, the one who understood her best.

He understood how the most horrific thing that could happen to someone could end up being the one thing that takes over the rest of their identity. He died, and that’s what people ended up knowing him for. The Robin who died. And Y/N, no matter how much she works or achieves, will be the girl who lost her leg. But she was so much more than that. In every way.

A white rose was what she was. This beautiful, untainted slate, fresh without a single flaw no matter how much those flaws seem to be so obvious, and she does what she makes of her identity no one will be able to dictate. She wasn’t her trauma. She wasn’t her past. She was her.

Maybe he did look into it too deep, but he couldn’t help with seeing the way she smiled and took the rose to bed, laying it beside her as she changed and got under the sheets.

Maybe he should have done more.

But not even he could help grinning his cheeks off when he finally left that place, so swiftly no one would have seen even if they tried.

It was enough. At least, for him.

More so when he felt his phone in his pocket.

Y/N: ‘Thank you for the rose. Happy Valentine’s day, Jason.’

He snorted and audibly laughed, staring at his phone reading the message five times in a few seconds. He didn’t even leave so much as a note. How was she so sure it was from him?

Because she understood him, too. More than anyone. It went both ways.

It will hurt like a bitch when she ultimately chooses another. Because as much as he hates to admit it, not to others and especially not to himself, he needed her a lot more than she needed him. Even when they only had so much time, it was that time he realized he wanted that for the rest of his life.

But he’ll get through it. Somehow. Like he always does.

-----

For so much of this love that came from the purest hearts, it never calls for what was easy.

And it wasn’t at the least.

But with difficulties and trials, the triumph will be the reward that brings all else to its place. A place of peace. Contentment.

Seven days after, the story comes to an end.

An end too long-awaited but has taken the time for it to be right.

Seven days after,

She makes her choice.

-----

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST

-----

A/N: WHO’S READY FOR THE PRE-FINALE AND THE FINALE!!! I’M SO EXCITED AHHHHHHH

MAIN TAGLIST:

@idkmanicantenglish, @wunderstell, @birdy-bat-writes, @multifandomgirl-us, @icequeen208, @offendedfishnoises, @arkhamtoddler, @elsenthal, @lucy-roo, @loxbbg, @reclusive-chicken-nugget, @l-inkage, @http-cherries, @river9noble, @zphilophobiaz, @annoylinglyaries, @knightfall05x, @hyp-oh-critical, @satan-s-ass, @1-800-starmora, @flowersgirl02, @nahcho, @thatonecroc, @trixie-bb, @daddyissuesmademe, jasonsbitch, @shadowsndaisies @jaybirdbooty @writing2sirvive

SERIES TAGLIST:

@spaceservicestation, @thedeadlythoughts, @vanessafabricius, @pinkforest05

#dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #tim drake x reader #batboys #batfamily #batfam #bruce wayne #batman #dc comics #reader insert #3 birds 1 stone #3 birds 1 stone series #batarella #batarella series

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hopeaterart · 3 years

Text

PMTOK HORROR AU: INTRO

LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOO! Nearly four thousand words! (I’m trying to get back into writing, so if you guys want to see another part of the games translated into the Horror AU, send me an ask!)

The circle was completed.

The Craftsman took a deep breath, raising up and putting the vial of Blue Paint on his nightstand. The blue lines were glowing slightly on his floor, the circle just big enough for one person.

Good enough for him, it was an emergency anyway. The Sailor was already too late by a few days. He walked to it’s middle, bit his thumb, and let the blood drip upon the lines. They glowed brighter. “Flipflopside.” He muttered, and his world was engulfed in blue.

When colors came back to him, he was at the gate of the town. He entered town, and sighed as he recognized the decorations all around. Had circumstances been better, this festival would’ve been Olly’s first exposure to the outside world.

But Olly having disappeared a week ago, along with some very important supplies, was the reason the Craftsman had scrambled to gather and create the necessary blue paint to teleport.

He stopped at the town square. Where... was everyone? He frowned at all the decorations strewn around. It was like an hurricane had gone through town. He groaned in exasperation, before continuing his way toward the Lady’s Castle. If the town was having problems, then she would be too busy to offer help with finding his son.

He... honestly doubted anyone would’ve been generous enough to help in the first place, which is why he had prepared arguments about why his worry over his son going missing wasn’t just a parent thing (which it wasn’t, but it was the main reason, and they didn’t need to know that), but rumors had it that the current human lord- or in this case, lady- was a generous and kind one.

Yeah, if she was anything like her uncle, then he wasn’t holding onto hope.

He finally arrived to it’s front door, knocking once. He was expecting to have to knock more, and then for someone to come open the door. Instead, the door grinded open, having obviously been left as such. He hummed in concern, looking around, before entering, on-guard.

And just as he entered, the door slammed behind him, making him jump. He hurriedly turned back toward it, trying to open it again in vain. Door locked. He groaned in exasperation. He was getting rusty.

He slowly walked through the corridor, his footsteps echoing around him as he looked around. The place was strangely... dark and silent. For some reason, he felt like he was the only one there. He reached the end of the corridor, opening another door (this one properly closed, but not locked) and arrived at what he could only assume was the lobby.

The door at the top of the stairs opened, and out came the Lady. Long blonde hair, dark skin, and pink eyes... yep, no doubt, it was her, even if there was something... off about her that he wasn’t sure he could place. He had never formally met her, after all.

“How good... to see you...” She said in a discordant voice, and that immediately squashed any doubts the Craftsman had about this being her normal self. There was, at least, hypnosis involved.

“Answer me this... shouldn’t this miserable kingdom be unfolded... and be refolded unto glory?...” He shook his head, a hand reaching into his apron to get his paper scoring tool, the sharper end gleaming like a shiv. Better safe then sorry.

“And what of those... humans?” The venom dripping from her voice surprised him, even if he wasn’t a fan of other humans himself. “Shouldn’t they be silenced forever?” Oh, he didn’t like were this was going. Whoever was pulling the strings on her, they were the kind of scum that would make even the former Count recoil in horror.

“... I see... Last question.” She started as he grind his teeth together. “Will you crease yourself and be reborn, like me-”

“Lady of humans,” He started as he took a step forward. She didn’t react at that, freezing and keeping lifeless pink eyes on him. “You’re not in your right mind right now. Please, let me try to undo whatever magic is making you act like this-”

“Wrong answer.” She started, and the Craftsman realized he had made a mistake. “Right answer. It matters not.” She said, tilting her head in a stilted manner that exposed her shoulder and the thick silver lines on it. No doubt, powerful binding magic was at work. “Your replies are all paper thin.”

The floor suddenly opened under him, a discordant goodbye accompanying the fall. And then his world was wrapped in pain and darkness.

When he opened his eyes again, he was lying on a cold ground, and five faces -or at least what he assumed where faces, what’s with the loss of his glasses- were looking down on him. “Oh, he’s waking up, he’s waking up!” One of them said, making the four others back up as he sat up.

He blinked, blurry. “Have any of you seen my glasses?” He asked. “They’re round with black frames. Their lenses are thick, and they have a retainer with purple and yellow beads.” The retainer was especially important to him, a reminder of the only relationship he remembered fondly. “If any of you are well-versed in magic, they’re also imbued with some pretty powerful protection spells.”

“Is that why they didn’t break?” Someone asked, handing him an object that shone under the dingy dungeons light.

He nodded, taking them in hand on pushing them up his nose. “Yes, thank you.” He then blinked as he regained vision, and looked around. All of those people... “You’re all monsters?”

One of them flinched at that, while another took a defensive stance. “Is that a problem, old man?”

“No, of course not.” He answered, bringing his knees to his chest. “If anything, I sympathize more with monsters than humans. We’re terrible.”

One of the monsters, who looked pretty young, came nearer. “So you don’t hate us?”

The Craftsman chuckled, patting the little plant monster’s head. “When you get my age, you don’t have much energy left for hating everything in sight. So I keep it for people who are truly deserving.” Like the chucklefuck who broke into his home, kidnapped Olly, stole most of his magical supplies and half of his Origami ones.

Suddenly, the door opened. More monsters, but those ones moving just as stiffly as the Lady earlier, entered. “Come with us...” The one standing at the front, who wore a ancient demon mask, ordered. The Craftsman got up, groaning as some of his bones popped, as everyone exited the room. He was about to follow them, when the masked monster held a hand up. Restrained fury was radiating off of the monster. “Not you.”

And just like that, he was alone again. He sighed, sitting down on the ground. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? The wall over there seemed pretty brittle...

He got up the inspect it, gently dragging his palm across it. Hello? A little voice suddenly asked, making him jump back in surprise. Oh no, please don’t leave! It said again. Was it coming... from the wall?

He caressed the wall again, frowning. “Are you... trapped inside?” He asked, feeling dimensional magic weaved into the wall.

Oh, yes I am! The voice of the young girl started again. I’m in a very strange place, like I’m trapped in-between dimensions!

“You will be delighted to hear to your situation is nowhere that severe, then.” He snarked. “You’re merely the victim of a dimensional spell. Nothing that can’t be broken.”

Really!? The voice exclaimed, it’s (her?) happiness evident. I think there’s some Paint nearby, could you use it to draw a magic circle? I can use my own magic for the rest. He hummed non-committedly as he got up, heading for the boxes pilled in a corner.

After a strong enough push, they toppled, their content spilling. Mostly empty vials of Paint, beside one that seemed to hold enough for one circle. But more importantly, a crack in the wall that was big enough for him to slip through if he tried was there. But just as he was about to leave, the little voice made itself known again. You... you’re not leaving, are you? She asked in a tearful tone.

He stayed frozen for a moment, before groaning in exasperation and turning back toward the wall. He quickly made his way there, emptying the vial over his fingers and drawing a circle around himself. It then started glowing a golden color, the image of a hand appearing within it. “Shapeshifting magic, uh?” He picked at the wound on his finger, opening it again and letting blood drip once more.

The Craftsman watched, bewildered, as his arms flattened and folded like accordions. He then gathered himself, and ripped the wall away, shaking his arm back to normal as whoever was trapped in the wall detached herself. “Whoo! I’m finally free from the wall!” She exclaimed cheerfully as the Craftsman’s eyes widened in disbelief. Blonde hair, golden hair, the hat with two points... and those eyes... “Hi, my name’s Olivia! You-”

“I know who you are, girl.” The Craftsman interrupted, bringing a hand up. “I’m the one who designed you.” That seemed to shock her, her hat flying of her head as her eyes sifted sizes.

“What!?”

“And I must admit, whoever folded you did an excellent job. Almost makes me jealous.” He wasn’t jealous, but fucking furious, but not at her, and that wasn’t important right now.

“But- you- I-”

“Look, for now, let’s focus on getting out of here before those guys come back, alright?” He proposed, grabbing Olivia’s small hand and squeezing them gently. She nodded, an adorably determined pout on her face as they went through the secret passage. “Stay behind me, don’t make a noise, and above all else, do not tell anyone your name, got it?”

Olivia nodded, following the Craftsman as they slipped through the crack. They quickly walked out of the cell, both of their eyes shifting around to make sure no one was coming. The corridor seemed closed off, magic keeping the dungeon isolated from the rest of the castle.

“Unhand me!” As they heard a voice come from the other room, they quickly hid amongst the boxes near said room. The Craftsman flushed himself against the wall near a small crack, chuckling to himself as Olivia imitated him, before peering inside

The sight of the notorious Count folded into what was basically a wet floor sign would’ve made the Craftsman laugh if it wasn’t for the implications behind the type of magic needed to restrain him. There was also the fact that he was being held up by multiple clothespin, and the shadows. Two of the deformed monsters were holding up another above their head, the creature obviously struggling.

And then it stopped moving, almost flattened as it was folded, powerful magic shifting and contorting it’s body. And then it was brought to a truly humongous shadow, a beast that opened it’s mouth with a mechanical sound. The outline of two sharp fangs was visible as the poor soul was placed within it’s mouth. And then...

KA-CHICK

The Craftsman looked away just as the beast closed it’s mouth, a metallic sound similar to the one of a stapler stapling sounding out. Well, at least he knew where that binding magic came from now, and where one of his supplies went. Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to enchant a stapler!?

Poor Olivia was shivering in fear next to him, and he offered her a hand to hold just as the door opened. A horde of monsters, the last one being the demon-mask wearing one, got out. “Alright.” He started. “That was the last of them. Now, there’s only that old bastard left...”

As they left the corridor to go “fetch” him, he quickly made his way inside the room, relieved to find the door unlocked with Olivia still holding his hand. He made his way to the folded up Count, who had a miserable expression on his face. “Sir?” He asked.

The Count opened his red eyes. “Oh, a human!” He exclaimed, a surprised lilt to his voice. “My apologies, with all the chaos happening around here, I forgot that my beloved’s castle was on human grounds.”

“Your beloved’s castle is the middle of Flipflopside.” The Craftsman remarked with a raised eyebrow as he neared, taking the clothespins off. “If she wanted to live amongst humans, this wouldn’t be the place.”

“Ah, touché...” The Count commented as he fell to the ground, quickly figuring out a way to move. He then turned toward Olivia with squinted, and she squeaked. “And this young lady would be...?”

“My daughter.” The Craftsman hissed, not missing the sudden animosity in the Count’s tone.

To his credit, the Count immediately backed off. “... My apologies. Now, I do believe there’s another exit here,” he started, turning toward the other end of the room “but it’s hidden by an illusion spell. I would dispel it myself, but...” He shuffled a bit.

“I’m on it!” Olivia cheerfully declared, floating up to the wall and gently caressing it. Immediately, the surface fell away into Paint particles (which the Count was quick to waddle to and absorb, no doubt he wanted to collect enough magic to try and break out of his binds) as the young girl turned toward the two men.

The Craftsman nodded in approval as Count congratulated her, waddling up to her. “Incredible job, miss! Now, we can get out!” Olivia beamed, bouncing up and down in the air to a rhythm only she could hear as they made their way to a spiral staircase.

Just before they started climbing, the folded monster turned toward the Craftsman. The older man frowned. “What?”

“You have a very talented daughter.” The Count answered him as he started making his way up the stairs as fast as his body let him. The Craftsman smiled to himself.

“I know.” He started making his way up the stairs, Olivia’s hand back in his, when he noticed that she seemed unfocused. He stopped. “Is there a problem, girl?” He asked, turning toward her.

The younger girl looked up at .him, smiling. “I’m your daughter?”

A few seconds, then a shrug. “If you want to be,” He wasn’t the one who had folded her, but he was the one who had made the initial plan and cut out a piece of his soul for her, and he couldn’t be much worse than Olly’s kidnapper.

They finally made it back outside, the Craftsman shielding his eyes from the sudden light. They walked along the long balcony for a bit, until another door opened. Out walked the monster from earlier, the one with the demon mask, and the Lady. He heard the Count gasp behind him.

“Why are you still so... flat?” The brainwashed woman asked him. “Why won’t you join me in folded glory...” She weakly reached her hands out to them. “Come, we can reshape you...” The fear shining through her eyes was yelling at them to run, run as far as you can, and never turn back.

The Craftsman was very tempted to follow that message, ready to grab Olivia and jump over the balcony fence, before the masked monster opened their mouth. “Patience, Lady. This will do just fine. So...” They turned toward the Craftsman. “Why did you come to this castle, Craftsman?”

His eyes narrowed, pulling the paper scorer out again. “Someone stole what’s mine. I came here to ask help to get it back.” And it seems I’ve found my thief.

The masked monster made a sneering sound. “Is that how you see your son? A mere possession?”

“Wha- don’t talk about what you don’t know!” The Craftsman snapped, hand tightening around the tool in his hand.

“... Last chance, Craftsman.” The monster started. “Volunteer yourself to my cause, and let me fold you into something greater. Simple offer. Yes, or no.” The only thing that stopped the old man from going ‘go fuck yourself’ was Olivia’s presence. He instead shook his head. “Of course, I didn’t expect any less. And I wouldn’t have it any other way...” The monster snapped his fingers.

Another mind-controlled monster came into view. The Craftsman recognized him as one of the monsters from earlier. The Count snarled behind him, a surge of powerful magic catching him off-guard. “What have you done to my people!?”

“Folding them to my will. Look at your precious Lady.” The monster started, gesturing to her. “She’s better this way, don’t you think.” The only answer was a hiss. “Now...” The mask-wearing monster turned back toward the Craftsman, one violet eye glowing. “Prepare to be Folded!”

The monster jumped the Craftsman, hissing and snarling. Caught off-guard, he went down like a sack of potato, falling on his back and barely keeping the monster off-of him. He dropped the scorer, weakly moving his legs as his arms came up to hold the monster’s claws away from him. Olivia gasped in horror. “Dad!”

“Wait, miss.” The Count started as he watched the Craftsman successfully move one of his hand to the monster’s throat. “I do believe that your father as the situation in hand.”

The Craftsman continued to hold the monster away from him, his hand tightening around his throat, before grabbing the paper scorer and stabbing the monster through his eye. Dark purple blood stained his hand as a pained noise came out of the monster, the scorer getting wringed out.

The monster was then knee-d into the stomach, the Craftsman successfully throwing the monster off of him and over the fence. He got back up, groaning and doing his best to ignore Olivia’s horrified look. “Is that all you got?” He asked the masked monster, who sighed.

“Of course, how stupid of me. You did go by Mercenary when you were younger.” The masked monster noted as he started floating ominously. “I suppose there’s no point in maintaining this charade any longer...”

The monster shook, his arms raising in the air, before suddenly flattening and unfolding. Colors faded away as the illusion spell was uncast, revealing violets and yellows as a little boy wearing a crown revealed himself. The Craftsman’s eyes widened in disbelief, the Count made a noise of confusion, and Olivia gasped. “BROTHER!”

No... no, no, no, NO! It couldn’t be... “Wh- what are you doing here?” The Craftsman asked, putting his scorer back in his apron as Olivia started shaking.

“Please, brother...” She sobbed. “How many times have I told you you needed to stop? Please! You can’t do this!”

The boy simply sighed. “Why couldn’t the Craftsman have simply left you in that wall where I put you... Sister, I am afraid that if you stand in the way of my ambition, we will not be able to share my glory as family.”

“Brother-”

“I am not your brother anymore.” He stated, flipping his hair. “I am KING OLLY!” He then floated up and out of reach, floating in the sky as he cast a disdainful look to Flipflopside. “By the time I’m done, all those miserable humans will be folded... and those flimsy monster subjects shall be reborn as Folded Soldiers, serving me!” He then turned his look upon the Craftsman and Olivia. “And I shall fold, crease and bend this world to my whim... the birth of an Origami Kingdom!”

Olly snapped his fingers, a bright violet light emanating from his hand. It took a moment for the Craftsman to realize that was a signal, but he quickly dragged Olivia to the floor when he realized. And just in time too, as something yellow and charged with magic razed right past where his head used to be a second ago.

He quickly got up, scanning his surroundings as Olivia held onto him for dear life, the Count screeching right behind him. Streams of binding magic surrounded them, all controlled by Olly, all coming from different directions. “Follow me, you two!” The Count yelled over the rush of magic, hopping on the fence and then on a lower part of the roof. The Craftsman quickly followed him, hand tight around Olivia’s.

“GRA-BLAGH!” The Craftsman turned toward the voice, confused as he saw what was possibly one of the ugliest man he’s ever seen come to them at high speed in a rocket-propelled hot-hair balloon. The Count quickly jumped in, followed by the Craftsman and Olivia. “A’m ‘ere, Count!”

“Thank you, Warrior.” The Count started, smiling for what was probably the first time today. The Craftsman decided to give them as much privacy as he could as he turned toward the Lady’s castle.

There was five streams of magic in total. The red one came from the North, the blue one East, the yellow one South, and the purple one West. As for the green one, it seemed to come from the clouds. They seemed to take material form as they tightened over the castle, similar to shiny ribbons.

To his horror, the Castle was then ripped right off of the ground, the stone floors breaking away with it as it was lifted in the hair and above them. He blankly registered something lilac and yellow falling off of the castle as the other man with them (the Warrior, he thinks?) and the Count shrieked.

He sat on the floor, Olivia joining him and hugging him close as the Warrior yelled something incomprehensible. They then felt the machine machine shake. “What’s going on?” He asked the Count, who had slid next to them.

“They magic streams ur giein’ use some problems.” The Warrior answered for him. “Sae hing oan tiiiiIIAAAAAH!” The machine had collided with the red ribbon, making the Craftsman, Olivia and the Count fly out, with only the last one getting caught by the Warrior. He then tried to reach for the other two, but they were already too far away.

And as they fell, the Craftsman could only look as the ribbons carried the castle away. He closed his eyes as he saw it being placed upon the top of the dormant Sulfur Crater, a single thought circling in his head.

What the fuck did I get myself into this time!?

#writing #My writing #pmtok #pmtok horror au #pmtok olivia #king olly #origami craftsman #count bleck #lady timpani #paper mario #Paper Mario The Origami King #tw violence #tw blood #tw death

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spookyspaghettisundae · 3 years

Text

Impossibilities for All

Numb legs. Dry mouth. Cold sweat.

Light shone from buzzing streetlamps and from lonesome windows, a hollow valley of brick and steel. Stars twinkled in the black sky, far above.

The tapping of sneakers echoed arrhythmically, sometimes scraping across asphalt whenever exhaustion weighed them down enough to drag. When she shouted, only her own echoes answered.

Lifeless cars stood parked along the sides of the streets. A piece of newspaper rustled as it danced madly on a gust of wind, tumbling down the sidewalk.

She had been running for what felt like forever. Her sides hurt. Even more so every time she stopped to rattle at locked doors or bang on them with her fists or call for help. Things she did less and less frequently because they proved to feel more and more pointless.

Advertisement posters of smiling people stared at her with lifeless eyes and muted corporate colors from the sides of a graffiti-covered bus stop, and neon signs glowed everywhere in the windows of shops and from the tops of tall buildings.

Yet with all these signs of a world that should be teeming with life, a city that supposedly never slept—even in this witching hour—she was all alone. Every street, every alley, every corner; all devoid of life. A husk of an urban metropolis.

Completely abandoned except for her and her pursuer. And the trail of blood she was leaving wherever she stumbled, dripping from an arm and a leg.

Every glance she shot behind her, he remained absent. But she knew he would show up any second now. If not after looking over her shoulder the sixth time, then the seventh. He had been following her since she stumbled drunk out of the party, and he had killed her friends with a crowbar.

He turned a corner and stood at the end of the street crossing from where she had just run.

As far as his attire was concerned, he looked normal. Normal as far as crazy serial killers were concerned. Crinkled three-piece suit. Holding a crowbar in one hand, hanging down with something dark dripping from it.

Just some guy. Just some crazy guy.

Just… minus a head.

And yet he walked. He walked quickly—he walked quicker than her.

And when she started running, so did he.

She did not even bother with yelling. Just no point.

Breath had to be saved. Her weary legs had to carry her faster, she had to make up for her limping, and the distance between them would shrink quickly. The sound of Kelly's skull cracking underneath the swings of that crowbar still haunted her. Rob had tried to fight back, and the end of the crowbar ripped his eyeball out with the first sickening crunch, not to mention what it must have done to the rest of his head after other blows had followed.

The headless guy with the crowbar was unstoppable. Merciless.

And just a little bit too fast for her. The deaths of her friends had bought just enough time for her to run away.

She tripped on the curb and stumbled and caught herself before running right inside a movie theater where the doors stood wide open. The letters on the glowing sign above the entrance read

THE PIANIST

Not a soul in here either, just wide-open halls with velvety red rugs and brass decor and a diffuse, warm light. Would have been nice under other circumstances.

Her breathing ran ragged, her lungs burned like they had been doused in gasoline and set on fire. She shoved her way inside a bathroom door and grabbed it from the inside and pulled it shut in hopes of stopping it from swinging—and making her pursuer struggle to find her here.

She backed away from the door and when her sneaker squeaked on the bright white clean tiles underfoot, she gasped and held her breath.

She even caught a drop of her own blood in her hand before it could hit the ground. Had to make sure he could not find her here.

She backed farther away and crept into one of the stalls and closed it behind her and locked it and stood up on top of the toilet seat where she crouched down, doing her best to not make a sound, trying not to breathe despite wanting to vomit, and her nostrils flaring more and more, and trembling all over the longer she denied her lungs that vital air.

Footsteps thumped outside. He had caught up. Ran down the movie theater hallway in his mad chase.

The thundering footsteps went right past the door to the ladies' room.

She allowed herself to breathe.

Then the running stopped.

Her breath stuttered, freezing as she held it once more, letting the searing pain in her lungs flare back up again.

Thump, thump, thump. THUD.

The bathroom door creaked as it slowly opened.

A shoe screeched when it twisted on the squeaky-clean tiles of the floor, punctuating nearing of his footsteps.

WHAM.

The door to the first stall slammed.

"You did this to me," said a raspy, gurgling voice.

The first time he had spoken since losing his head. How in the hell was he speaking, anyway?

WHAM.

The door to the second stall slammed against the wall.

"You did this to me, and you will pay," said Headless.

She had done this to him. Just yesterday. She somehow knew it had to be him.

She had bumped into him on a crowded sidewalk and down he went, tumbling right into the street where a fast truck blared its horns and swerved too late—where its massive tractor winged his head. Headless looked more like his head had been sliced off at the neck and less like half his skull had been smashed to bloody bits of bone and brain by a speeding truck. But to her, there was no doubt.

It had to be him.

WHAM.

The door to the third stall slammed against the wall.

Last door before reaching the one she hid behind.

"I'mma need all I can get to have a new head reattached," said the voice, crowned by something like retching sounds. Bubbling with anger.

Thud. THUD. THUD.

He kicked away at the door to her stall.

"I-I d-don't have any m-money on m-m-me," she stammered out in pleading. "B-b-but I have money! I can get you money, man, just l-l-leave me alone!"

She did not really. She lived on the edge of poverty even her attire said otherwise. Like most people she knew, like most people who lived outside the center of the city. But she would have promised to pluck the blue out of the sky for him at this point.

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.

Headless reared back and then lunged at the door with his heaviest kick.

THWUD!

Whatever the bathroom stall walls and doors were made of, it all splintered once he jammed the crowbar in and started jimmying it open, widening the gap to sharp sounds of the material snapping and breaking entirely.

She shrieked when he cracked open the lock far enough to reveal his decapitated silhouette.

WHAM.

She screamed when he kicked the busted door fully open.

Headless pulled his crowbar back in both hands, readying to bring it crashing down on her skull with full force.

She flinched before he even lunged. Slipping on the edge of the seat, one of her shoes slid straight into the toilet and got immediately soaked. She flailed her arms to break her own fall and accidentally flushed.

Fa-WOOSH.

Water splashed everywhere, shooting cold wet up all around her. She sputtered and her hands found no traction on the walls of the stall, fingertips and palms just skidding down as she fell and fell and fell.

The vortex of water dragged her down, the horizon transformed into the toilet's bowl, and the crowbar smashed into its edge like a dark meteor, exploding in an avalanche of white ceramic chunks the size of boulders that chased her down the spiraling world, spinning around and around, making her dizzy and sick but also impossible to see as she screwed her eyes shut in the flood of water, flushed right down the toilet.

Impossible?

Sure. But Headless was impossible, too.

She left behind one impossibility for the next, shooting down dark watery corridors like a kid riding down a slide in a water park. Except that her clothing was drenched, her lungs burned even brighter as she held her breath to not inhale whatever water enveloped her, and horror shook her with a chest-bursting fear of death.

Everything else was drowned out.

The dark tunnels meandered, pushing her along and slamming her against the sides of metal walls surrounding her.

Then the flood abruptly ejected her into a brighter environment. Even with her eyes shut, she could tell that some lights glared around her. She hit the ground hard and rolled, water splashing and spraying all around.

Finally, she dared to breathe, gasping for air. The pain of having skinned her knuckles and knees set in with delay. Trembling and bloody as she surveyed the damage, she pushed herself up off the ground.

Asphalt. Back out on the empty streets again.

Her thigh and her arm also hurt from where the crowbar had hit her in their previous encounter. She spat and got up and then instantly bent forward as a wave of nausea welled up inside and made her entire body buckle. A jet of vomit shot from her mouth before she could pull her hair back, splattering the street, and emptying her insides of all the booze and finger food she had ingested in that night.

The rancid, stinging taste lingered, and her eyes had teared up so much that the neon-colored nightscape blurred around her, yet she still distinctly noticed something odd in the splash of vomit, staring at it in disbelief and disgust.

Some pills. Not any she remembered popping and nothing from her prescription.

Had someone slipped her those somehow?

But how?

It was not like you could just roofie someone without them noticing. And if it had been in the food, these things should have dissolved beyond recognition by now. It had been hours, right?

With trembling fingers, she wiped some chunks and gobs of vomit from her strands of hair and then pushed it all out of her face. The smell only diminished with delay.

Finally had a chance, finally stood still, and looked around. Her clothing was sopping wet like she had been in a swimming pool, still dripping like crazy, admixing with the smells of iron and dirt. The cool breeze made her shiver beyond the exhaustion and pain and terror wracking her body with tremors.

The asphalt around her was wet and the gushing of water never stopped, sloshing and sloshing in an infinite torrent behind her. It still sprayed from a busted fire hydrant on the side of the street.

The nightly city around her, however, was still just as deserted and abandoned as before. She reckoned she might be stuck in a nightmare, but the pain said otherwise.

She stopped looking around—not only because it was making her feel dizzy and queasy all over again, but because her gaze came to rest upon the crowbar on the ground.

Droplets of watery residue on the black iron of the crowbar reflected all the colorful lights from her environment.

She snatched the tool up and gripped it in both hands, muttering a curse under her breath from the fiery pain of her knuckles stretching where top layers of skin had broken, exposing the ones beneath with a sheen of fresh blood.

With the crowbar in her hands, she staggered away. And walked. Finally breathed, defying all the pain and the cold and the terror.

Every glance over her shoulder helped ensure that Headless was nowhere to be seen. She wandered the streets, not as desperate to find help anymore. Somehow, she had just given up, even if she was still far from accepting death and welcoming its dark embrace. It had all made way to anxiety, a simmering dread of being all alone in this huge, soulless city.

Walking past a darkened storefront window, her own mirror image made her stop. Made her choke. Made her stare in disbelief.

She was wearing a business suit now. A perfect fit, crinkled and in need of ironing, but it would have looked good on her under other circumstances.

Impossible?

Sure, but she had just flushed herself down a toilet only moments ago.

In disbelief, she looked down, patted herself down. To ensure that it was not just the reflection, to make sure she was not just losing her mind.

Indeed, she was wearing the crinkled suit. Just like Headless earlier, though tailored to fit her frame. Still drenched. It would take forever to dry; she would catch her death by exposure in the cold air like this. She needed to find a safe haven somewhere.

Hell, she needed to limp her way to an ER. Headless may have busted her leg and her arm.

She still bled.

And then: voices.

Voices echoed down the streets. The tiny flame of hope flickered in the back of her mind. It flared up into a flame and shone brighter than any nagging doubt.

Traffic, too. A horn honked somewhere else.

She jogged down the sidewalk, rounded the next corner, and there they were.

Everybody. The city was as alive as it should be, even this late at night. Some people loitered around at a bus station, waiting for a ride home. The red taillights of a car glowed at the next crossing; its engine purred as it took off from where it stood when the traffic lights turned green.

She approached the group at the bus station. They were fully engrossed in whatever conversation they had going on. It sounded somewhat unimportant, but then again, it all sounded like incoherent slurring to her. Had she suffered a concussion, too?

Some of them drunkenly swayed, visibly having spent some time at a party just like the one she had come from.

She fought the urge to cry out, did not want to come across as a crazy person. Instead, she limped over to them.

Other than a few furtive glances laden with disgust like she was some sort of homeless person, they paid no attention to her.

She reached up to tap one of the guys there on the shoulder, and he swiveled.

Too quickly—he bumped into her.

And she fell, stumbling right into the street.

The honking horns of a truck blared as it sped by the bus stop in that very same moment, cleaving off the top of her skull and spraying the asphalt with bits of bone and brain matter.

The people around were all shocked, scarred for life, one of them screamed in terror. Just like she had when this happened to Headless the day prior.

When the police officers had concluded their investigation and someone zipped up the body bag, the world went dark, and the air tasted like plastic.

The zipper opened to a place of blinding bright light, phosphorous white in color and exuding an unbelievably cold air. Machines uncaringly beeped and hummed around her.

Strange figures in surgical masks—their heads horned like devils—all huddled around her bed and leaned over her. They looked like they were dressed like hospital staff, but the objects they held and wielded looked more like they belonged in a workshop's collection of power tools for woodworking.

The spinning saw blade cleanly cut through skin and bone with a high-pitched whine and squelching whenever it had to sever the softer tissue. Though she could not resist, could not fight back, and just witness; at the very least it did not hurt. The demonic doctors took off what little remained of her head until only the flat stump of a headless neck remained.

Eventually, a third demon showed up with a clipboard, studying it with hollow eye sockets and then turning his head as if to lock eyes with where hers should have been.

"It says here that your faith plan does not include body part replacements. Unless you can pay the soul exchange out of your own pocket, you'll have to make do like this for now," said the demon doctor.

He shoved the glasses back up the bridge of his nose which made little sense because he had no eyes to speak of. He sighed and flipped a page on the clipboard, then turned away with a shrug.

Minutes later, two orderlies carried her by the arms and tossed her outside the hospital entrance where she landed on her ass, just as if they were bouncers throwing a troublesome drunk out of a nightclub.

The crowbar clanked as it landed on the sidewalk next to her. The demons in white outfits disappeared back inside, and the sliding doors closed behind them.

Now that she was Headless, she saw no other option than to reap some souls. Not that she saw anything at all, strictly speaking—she just knew these things instinctively.

And she might as well start with the guy who had bumped into her and killed her.

Bastard was probably out there, somewhere, partying.

He had done this to her.

And he would pay.

—Submitted by Wratts

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secretly-tword-obsessed · 4 years

Text

Aaron Bu...Oh boy

Hello lovelies! This is the first part of my ‘Alternate ending to Hamilton songs’ series. Hope you enjoy!

Fandom: Hamilton

Ship: Hamburr

The guy was cuter than he’d expected. Okay, that might be a bit of an understatement. The guy was more devilishly handsome and adorable than he’d expected. There, thats a better description.

The guy was shorter than Alexander, and had a little round face with large eyes and lips. He wore a simple outfit; a dark purple coat, a white shirt and high-risen pants. And he was muttering something under his breath, just standing there motionless, as if waiting for something. Alexander was not too familiar with such a stance, he never waited, not for a thing. He was far too active and productive to wait. I mean, what was the point? Why wait when he could act?

He approached the man, first checking that he had the right guy.

“Pardon me-”

The man turned around with an intrigued look on his face. Alexander’s heart beat sped up, and he felt his palms getting sweaty. He had never seen a cuter man in his life.

“Are you Aaron Burr, sir?”

Burr chuckled: “That depends, who’s asking?”

Ah, so he had a sense of humour to. And the most cheeky adorable gorgeous smile imaginable. Great.

“Oh sure sir, I’m Alexander Hamilton, I’m at your service sir. I have been looking for you”.

Crap, perhaps that last comment sounded creepy. Jeez, it was hard enough for him to have discussions like this in the first place, but the fact that the man was cute made it ten times harder.

But Burr just kept smiling. Oh, that smile. “I’m getting nervous”.

“Sir!”, Alexander interrupted, “I heard your name at Princeton, I was seeking an accelerated course of-”

“Sorry, what was that? Please slow down”, Burr said, a trace of nerves in his eyes too.

Slow, how slow? Slow-motion snail-slow? If he made that joke, would Burr laugh? Well, here goes...

“I heaaaaarrrdd yooooouuurrr naaaaaammmmeee”

Burr chuckled. Again. That chuckle.

“Haha, very funny”

“Your not easily amused I see”, Alexander joked.

“I am amused, but only mildly”, Burr stated, “Continue”.

“Well, uh, I, uh, heard your name at Princeton”

“Are you okay?”, Burr asked tentatively, stepping closer to Alexander. He could see all of Burr’s features more clearly now, like his scruffy eyebrows, and he felt like he could melt. Was the sweat running down his forehead showing?

“Yeah”, Alex responded, “I’m fine, your just a bit hot. Crap! I mean, it’s just a bit hot”.

Kiss.

Peck. Smooch. Emotion-backed. Right in the centre of Alexander’s cheek.

Burr’s lips may have been big, but they were delicate against his rough skin.

Burr smiled brightly as he departed, “I think your hot to, Hamilton”.

Alexander blushed, if he wasn’t blushing before, he was now, “What was that for?”

“I’m very good at reading social cues”, Burr said with a shrug, “I knew you had a crush on me from the moment you looked at me. In fact, I think anyone would’ve known”.

Alexander shook his head, how?

Burr could see the man’s confusion, and found it quite cute. The man was quite cute in general. He had a soothing voice and a shaky posture, and the most beautiful eyes Burr had ever seen.

Alexander kissed his lips, and he returned the kiss. The sun shone bright in the sky. Both Burr and Alex believed in miracles at this point.

When they departed from their second intimate action, Burr let Alexander know everything in his mind. Alex responded with everything in his mind. They stared at each other for a few seconds.

“Do you, uh, consider this a long term relationship?”, Alexander asked.

“I sure hope so Hamilton!”, Burr remarked, “I wouldn’t have kissed you unless I saw definite potential!”

“You-you can call me Alex”, Alexander stuttered, wondering how on Earth Burr was keeping so calm in this situation.

Burr tilted his head a bit, “How about Hammy?”.

Alexander chuckled, “Sure”.

”Okay than, Hammy”, Burr said, leaning forward to lightly kiss Hammy’s neck.

Hamilton giggled and jumped back, “Be careful Burr! I’m ti-”

He stoped when he saw the spark in Burr’s eyes.

“Your what, Hammy?”, Burr asked inquisitively, his eyes glistening.

Hamilton shook his head, “Uh, nothing”.

Burr smiled, “Did you know, Hammy, that I have a catch phrase?”.

Hamilton raised his brows, wondering where Burr was going with this. “Um, no. What is it?”.

Burr took a step closer to Ham, “Talk less”

Hamilton tilted his head in confusion, “Okay?”

Burr smiled brighter and got up on his tiptoes, and whispered faintly in Hamilton’s ear: “Smile more”.

With that, he dug his fingers into Hamilton’s side. Hamilton burst out laughing, the biggest smile on his face.

“Wow!”, Burr said, “You were right, you ARE ticklish. But no, not just ticklish. I’d say, very ticklish”.

Hamilton somehow managed to squirm out of Burr’s grip, “Not fuhunny!”

Burr just grinned smugly at him, “I’ll give you ten seconds to run”

Ten seconds? That was far too generous. There would be no way Burr would catch up if Hamilton even had a five second head start, but ten seconds, jeez! Wondering what on Earth the adorable munchkin was planning, he ran.

Somehow, a civilised greeting had turned into this. A game of chase. Although, Hamilton definitely didn’t mind. He felt careless and free as he ran, wind gushing though his hair.

And after about fifteen seconds of running, he felt an unfamiliar long arm wrap around his torso. The arm tackled him gently onto the grassy ground. When he looked up, a freckled boy with bushy hair, who looked about his age, was staring down at him.

“John Laurens”, he said with a grin, “Pleasure to meet you”.

“Wha-?”

He saw three other men run behind him. One had a muscly figure and a strong expression, one was skinny and had curly hair tied up in a bun, and the third was Aaron Burr.

“Maquis de’Lafayette”, the skinny man said in a thick French accent, “But just call me Lafayette”

“I’m Herc”, said the muscly one, “We’re all friends of Burr’s”.

“So”, Laurens said, turning to Burr, “Why have we tackled him anyway?”

Burr smirked, “Oh, I think he knows”. Burr crouched down beside Hamilton, the cheekiest look on his face. “Hammy, why do you think Iv’e ordered these men to tackle you, huh?”

Hamilton gulped, and his cheeks went pink, “I, uh, I don’t know Burr”

“You honestly have no idea?” Burr asked in a slightly teasing tone.

“Nup”, Hamilton confirmed, “No idea”.

Burr grinned, “Liar”.

He dug his finger into Hamilton’s ribs. Hamilton instantly tossed his head back, and began laughing.

Mulligan, realising what was going on, leaned down to pin Hamilton’s arms above his head. The other two men just watched in amusement and delight.

“No-Heheheheherc!”, Hamilton cried, attempting to kick his legs out but failing as Herc held them down.

Burr wiggled his fingers under Hamilton’s arms. His laughter ticked up a pitch, “Nohohoho!”

“Your so cute Hammy”, Burr teased, seeing how flustered it made his new boyfriend, “Uh tickle tickle tickle. Uh tickle tickle tickle”

Hamilton was so red with flusteredness and laughter, but Burr knew that the man was fine. In fact....

“You know what I think, Hammy?”, Burr asked as he went down to squeeze Hamilton’s knee.

“Ohohoh shihihiht nohohot thahahaht!”

Burr gasped and put a hand to his heart, “Language!” He squeezed tighter and spidered his right hand fingers around the upper leg. Hamilton lost it, an ear to ear grin plastered on his face.

“Well, as I said earlier, I am very good at picking up small social details”, Burr stated, as if there wasn’t a squirmy, giggly mess below him, “And I have noticed that you, Hamilton, correct me if I’m wrong, are actually enjoying this”.

If Hamilton wasn’t red before, he certainly was now. And Burr’s words only heightened the ticklish feeling.

“Nohohoho I dohohohn’t!”

Burr lifted his hands up, looking down and observing the mess below him. He gestured for Herc to get up, and he leaned down to plant a light kiss on Hamilton’s forehead.

“Oh, don’t be so sappy Burr!”, Laurens whined with a chuckle, “Hamilton, if you want to get him back, his worst spot is his neck”.

Burr swung his head around instantly, “What?! Laurens, why you little-”

Burr was interrupted by his own short giggle as Hamilton leaned up and lightly tickled his neck. Burr looked down at Hamilton in horror.

“Oh my dog Burr, that was so cute!”, he stated with the biggest shine in his eyes.

Burr jumped off Hamilton instantly, making a run for it. Hamilton stood up and laughed with the other three.

“Perhaps this would be a better time for me to get further aquatinted with you”, Hamilton said. Lafayette just chuckled, “I’m from France, happy now?” “No time!” Laurens cried, “Burr is getting away!” And with that, the four men set out on there first adventure together, there common goal: finding Burr and tickling him to pieces.

#ticklish!hamilton #hamilton tickle fic #hamburr #ler!burr #ticklefic #lee!hamilton #ticklish!alexander

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only-here-for-jatp · 4 years

Text

Build-a-Band pt 5 Lukas and Jules

Part 5 is up!

Featuring: Luke POV, Luke building a Julie, and Reggie building a Luke

Not going to lie, not my best chapter. Little sleepy. HOWEVER, some chapters now have pictures at the bottom of the bears (sans outfits) that I’m referencing.

As always read on Ao3 here

And below! ~2300 words

Luke adored watching the faces of his bandmates as they shared Alexander the bear. Reggie was lit up like the sun, and somehow shone even brighter after rendering Alex speechless while he gently swept his fingers over the bear. Alex looked to be slightly in awe, not just in the surprising likeness to himself, but also at the care of thought that went into it.

He was only kidding, mostly, when he whined about Reggie not making him a stuffie. It was less because he needed a small stuffed animal version of himself, but more because he really wanted Reggie to want to make him one. He understood though, why Reggie would make one for Alex rather than him.

Alex had always gravitated towards soft things. For as long as the boys had known him there was something soft and cuddly nearby whether it be a stuffed animal, a blanket, or even just a sweatshirt. Reggie was much the same, although he tried to hide it significantly more than Alex did. Both of them loved such things, looked to them in an instinctual way for comfort.

Luke didn’t have that kind of attachment to soft cuddly things. It certainly that he wasn’t cuddly enough, in fact he was probably the cuddliest of the bunch, but even when he was little, he’d always chosen to cuddle people instead. In fact, he craved being in constant contact with another human being. When he’d been five it’d been his mom, he’d wrap around her leg or crawl into her lap and she’d whisper to him the secrets of the universe.

When he was ten it was Reggie. He’d follow him around, tugging on the bottom of his shirt as Reggie chatted at him in high speed. Mostly though, Luke would grab Reggie’s hand and pull him along into shenanigans and adventures and things that ten-year-old boys get up to. Over the years, there were classmates that teased them, but Luke would just grip harder, stick his tongue out and call them jealous. After all, clearly nobody wanted to hold their hands.

In late middle school, they found Alex. Soon it was cuddle piles on the floor or the couch. Pretty much anywhere all three of them could fit. That was actually most places since all three boys were fairly creative and very few sense of boundaries. It was Alex who he would hug as if it was a lifeline, the only thing keeping him standing, after fights with his mom. It was the three of them linking fingers, hands, arms, ready to defy the world where everyone they trusted, everyone they needed to protect them failed.

He would never dream of mocking the boys for their love of all things soft and cuddly. He figured he’d had his own teddy bears in a way, they just happened to be the very alive, and now very dead, Alex and Reggie. Instead he watched with a soft smile at Reggie tried to hide his joy at Alex refusing to put Alexander down and getting to go back to Build a Bear the next day. The best moment had when he caught Alex teaching Alexander to play the drums when he thought no one was looking. Yup, his brothers were the most adorable and soon they would all have stuffies of each other to play with, and for that he was incredibly excited.

Luke wasn’t entirely sure what to expect when he poofed into Build a Bear the next morning, but walls covered with animals of all shapes colors and sizes was certainly not it. He could feel Reggie literally vibrating next to him and Luke’s excitement and energy was feeding off it. Oh yes, the kid in a candy store feeling was coming over him. Something about these stuffies felt different. Instead of lifeless stares, it almost felt as if they were alive and gazing fondly at the joy they were bringing to the three ghost boys and the smirking human girl.

He glanced at Julie and was unsurprised to see a soft smile and shimmering eyes as she took them all in. Alex had wandered off to the shelves mesmerized and before he could process what was happening Reggie was dragging him all around the store pointing out cool this and cool that and AHHH did you see. Luke was smiling and hanging on for the ride.

Or he was until he saw the dogs. There was one, like a border collie almost with fire sticking out all over the place and he heard himself scream before he realized the words were his. OHMYGAWD IT’S SO FLUFFY I’M GOING TO DIE.

At this point Julie and Reggie were doubled over and cackling at him while Alex barely spared him a quizzical look. He harumphed. He’d never gotten the appeal before! Not when he’d had Reggie and Alex so he had…. never mind he didn’t want to do THAT math… years to catch up on! He walked over to lightly punch Reggie in the arms as he slowly managed to stop laughing.

He meandered away, peering in all the boxes with Reggie following closely behind him. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he figured he would know it when he saw it. It wasn’t long before Reggie was tugging at his shirt.

“Dude! Dude!” Reggie pointed at a soft caramel brown bear with big sewn in eyes. “It’s you!!” At first glance Luke agreed, it did kind of remind him of him, but as he got closer, he realized that this bear was slightly smaller than the other bears. Which of course is when Luke read the name “Lil’ Cub Brownie”.

Luke whispered yelled “I AM NOT THAT SHORT! I AM 5’8” WHICH IS A PERFECTLY RESPECTABLE HEIGHT”

Reggie just looked at him, an eyebrow raised and a smirk on his lips. “Let’s see what Julie thinks.” He called out to the girl watching them with amusement. “Hey Jules, how tall would you say Luke is?”

She gave Luke a quick up and down. Pondered it softly as her eyebrows scrunched up. “Hmmm…. 5’4”?”

Luke could feel the shock, horror, and betrayal coursing through him. “I AM 5’8”!” Julie looked at him quizzically “Are you sure?”

Luke let out a groan of frustration as Reggie picked up the small bear shaped lump and winked at him. He grabbed Reggie’s elbow and dragged him along scanning the aisles for something that might even mildly resemble Julie.

He’d passed this bear three times. He still didn’t like it, didn’t even think it looked like Julie, yet something about it kept giving him pause. It was a pale lilac color and it might be the softest thing he’d ever touched. The purple was kind of nice, but he knew Julie was a more vibrant purple like the dress she’d worn on the Orpheum and while her eyes could melt him to the core, she had a strength that astounded him. The bear kind of felt like Julie lite. A shadow or figment of her.

There was something weird with its eyes too like it had winged eyeliner. He knew every now and again Julie wore her make-up like that, but it didn’t really seem to be her. Julie was at her Juliest when in mismatched pajamas and her fluffy dinosaur slippers, her hair flowing freely and a soft song singing from her lips. It was like she carried the warmth and the light with her and this bear just didn’t.

Yet this was the third time he was standing in front of this Anna? From Frozen? Bear and it was his best bet. Reluctantly he grabbed the blob of fabric and hoped along the way it could become more like her.

He and Reggie made their way over to where Alex and Julie were already sitting, waiting for the other to join them. He had to admit he wasn’t listening while Julie gave them some monologue. The bear just wasn’t sitting right with him and it took Reggie dragging him toward these red boxes to jar him from contemplation.

Luke glanced in to see all the little hearts and felt a smile lighting up his face. Identifying a heart for Julie, now that he could do. He smiled a little bit at Alex’s intense focus, as if finding the right heart was the same as defusing a bomb. He laughed at Reggie’s antics of digging through everything and moving hearts into different buckets, leaving not one unturned in his hunt. Every now and again Luke would let out a tease at the look on Alex’s face or be fake angry with Reggie when he scooped hearts on top of where Luke was looking.

This was really what he’d come for, this moment of pure joy with his family. Julie just kept shaking her head at them all. For a minute they were just three seventeen-year-old boys with their favorite girl building a bear.

It took him by surprise really, the flash of color. Soon though, he was digging with fervor trying to find the glimpse of deep royal purple he’d seen. After what felt like forever and a impending feeling of hopelessness he found it. Sitting at the bottom of the bin was a purple heart, almost exactly the color of Julie’s Orpheum dress. This, this was the one.

He cracked a smile at Reggie and waved it in his face as Reggie held up what had to be the most awkwardly looking heart he’d ever seen. Reg must have noted his look of confusion because he started to explain.

“I know it’s not the prettiest looking heart but look at all it’s gone through. It’s still surviving, it’s still functional, it’s still the biggest heart of anyone I know. This is the kind of heart that gives pieces of itself to mend others.” Reggie just keeps going borderline rambling as if he also doesn’t know where to stop until his voice drops almost to a whisper “This is a heart that fixes things and and and you fixed us.”

Luke gave Reggie the biggest grin as the warmth flew through him at his friend’s explanation. “It’s perfect Reg. Thank you.” Reggie’s thousand-watt smile was back as they all moved back towards the stuffing machine. He prompted Julie to do the magic, dragging him and Alex into the convincing, not that Julie needed it.

The wish stumped Luke briefly and he watched as Alex and Reggie seemed to do it with very little hesitation. Words and thoughts seemed to jumble in his mind before some started to align with startling clarity. They were lyrics? Either way he whisper sang them to the bear.

We say we're friends, we play pretend. You're more to me, we're everything Our voices rise and soar so high. We come to life when we're, In perfect harmony

By the time he finished, Alex had his new bear stuffed introducing him as William the Skater Bear and Reggie and Julie were whispering together while shooting him looks. Soon the caramel bear was growing and becoming real. Luke had to admit, despite the height issue, Reggie really had done a good job picking out the bear and as he screamed about a guitar for Lukas, Luke giggled and stepped up to the machine.

Julie raised an eyebrow at his choice and he grinned at her sheepishly and shrugged. Truthfully, he was a little nervous about it. What if he picked the wrong bear? What if it looked awful? Would she hate it? When he handed her the heart though, her eyes grew wide before dashing up to his. She squeezed it tight and watched as her face shifted to awe and a blush crept over her cheeks before she hurriedly finished the bear.

She handed the bear back to him and oddly enough Luke stared deeply into the bear’s eyes. A flicker of recognition passed through. That was Jules, through and through. He took one more glance at Julie, smiled, and called out “C’mon Jules time to accessorize!” He heard her giggle as he wandered over to the clothes section.

In the end, he managed to convince Julie to let him bring home two outfits for Jules. One was a sparkly purple fairy dress with a black leather jacket and a microphone to match, the other was a pair of pajamas with monster slippers. They’d rationalized it as needing a band outfit, but also a cuddlier one.

For a brief moment, he and Reggie switched bears so Luke could hold onto Lukas. Reggie had managed to find denim pants with a band tshirt and a beanie. Reggie swore up and down that when they got home they could cut the sleeves off the bear’s shirt, but Luke was enamored with the little bear and his soft guitar that hung by a band off his hand. He nodded absently, agreeing with whatever Reggie said before pulling Lukas close into a tight hug.

A little voice that sounded remarkably like Reggie whispered into Luke’s head.

You are Lukas. Luke may prefer hugging people to stuffies, but it’s your job to make sure that for whatever reason we can’t be there, Luke can hug you and know we’re hugging him back as tightly. He saved us all and now he’ll never be alone again.

He looked up at Reggie, tears starting to pool in his eyes, even as Reggie looked a little confused. He reached out and hugged him tight. Never letting go of Lukas. They stayed that way for a long time before pulling apart.

Alex had witnessed the whole thing and was pretty sure he knew exactly what caused the burst of emotion in Luke. He gave a small smile before taking the opportunity to rag on his brother. “So what do you think Luke? Care to put Lukas down for a minute.”

Luke shook his head vigorously “Nuh-uh. Not a chance.” There was something niggling at him though as he joked with his bandmates. He couldn’t quite place it though until Julie slipped Jules out of Reggie’s arms and into her arms. He froze then, his brain catching up and slamming into him.

What if Julie could hear the lyrics he sung to the bear as his wish?

#jatp #jatp fanfic #build a band #julie and the phantoms

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fromkaermorhentolettenhove · 3 years

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Salvation - Chapter 6

Previous - Next

Chapter Summary: Geralt helps out a town while Jaskier finds out what makes Geralt happy

Words: 2806

A/N: working night shifts but I can promise the last chapter will come next week

AO3

Within a few days, Geralt, Roach, and Jaskier had finally made it to a large, bustling town.

Rumor had it that the town was in need of a witcher to take care of a rather large bruxae invasion, however, that didn’t stop merchants from selling in the streets. The town had so much business in fact that stalls came all the way out to the road, starting out sparse and then shoving into bigger and bigger clusters.

Geralt fell into his usual pattern of walking near Jaskier’s side, close enough to hear every breath that left him. Fear emanated off of Jaskier in waves but he held his head high, keeping the pace steady and brisk. As the first building passed by, Jaskier let out a heavy sigh, his eyes darting around. He did not stop, but Geralt was quick to swoop in, tangling Jaskier’s hand up in his own.

With a relieved smile, Jaskier bumped his shoulder against Geralt’s, his grip on his lute strap lessening just a little. At least, his knuckles were no longer white and Geralt’s heart beat proudly in his chest. Once they made it to an inn and Roach was stabled, the two men sought out the innkeeper, managing to snag one of the last rooms available.

“If I were to perform, what may we expect to receive in return?” Jaskier asked with a charming smile as Geralt counted his coins for the room.

“Meals,” the innkeeper nodded. “Perhaps even a bath if you bring in a crowd.”

Jaskier beamed and gave a little bow to the woman behind the counter. “Of course. Your townsfolk shall be swept off their feet.”

The woman laughed at this, a blush rising to her cheeks as she took Geralt’s coin. Away from the bustle of the town, Jaskier was quite the charmer and Geralt wondered what other tricks he had up his sleeve.

As they entered their room, Jaskier immediately set his lute to the side and fell back on the bed, a pleasant sigh leaving him. “I’m certainly not complaining about where we sleep, but I will enjoy our bed tonight.”

Geralt smirked, digging through one of the bags to find all his necessary potions. “And after your performance, I’m sure you’ll need it.”

“Oh yes,” Jaskier propped himself up on his elbows. “It’s been a while since I’ve properly done a set. I hope I still have it in me to last a few hours.”

“I’ll be watching,” Geralt spoke without thinking. He chewed on his tongue, thankful that his back was turned to Jaskier. “What I mean is, I’ll be there if you need to get away.”

The bed creaked and the soft footfalls of Jaskier approached Geralt. He sidled up, a smile gracing his face. “Thank you, my dear.”

Geralt’s head whipped towards Jaskier, his eyes widening a little before he cleared his throat and went back to his potions. “I’ll deal with the bruxae tomorrow. You may come along if you wish, but there will be a point where I continue alone.”

“Of course,” Jaskier nodded, still standing in Geralt’s personal space. “I’ve heard many nasty tales about them and I certainly don’t want to be victim to that.”

Then, Jaskier was gone from Geralt’s side, sitting on the bed and tuning his lute. How Jaskier moved so fast, so silently was beyond Geralt. It was entrancing, as if Jaskier had some mysticism flowing through his veins.

Geralt focused on the notes Jaskier plucked, the sound of a string shifting up as Jaskier found the right key. While he had never been musically inclined, Geralt still knew when something was out of tune and he waited patiently for Jaskier to be satisfied with his chords.

“Shall we go down then?” Jaskier held his lute tight to him, already at the door.

With a sharp nod, Geralt then followed Jaskier down to the main floor and secured himself at a table in an isolated corner. A few townsfolk were already milling in, curious about Jaskier’s presence in the center while trying to get a look at Geralt in the shadows.

When Jaskier’s first notes filled the room, it was as if a spell overcame the customers as they listened with bated breath. By the time the first song ended, the room was filling up by the second, a crowd forming around Jaskier.

Geralt kept a careful eye, watched Jaskier’s movements as he entertained. There were brief moments of nerves, a darting gaze and short breaths, but with every clap and cheer, Jaskier shone brighter, gracing the room with a dazzling smile. Geralt became so caught up in watching Jaskier that he hardly noticed the offerings of ale and food, managing a thank you just as the barmaid left.

Jaskier was wonderful, a welcome distraction to the usual horrors of Geralt’s life. Everything that was good in the world, Geralt saw in Jaskier. Yes, the man had his flaws like anyone else, but Geralt could live with that, find the beauty within the shadows. Jaskier was healing too and that in itself eased an ache in Geralt’s soul that he hadn’t noticed lingering.

In time, perhaps they could become more, greater than they were right now and Geralt surprised himself with the excitement that stirred inside of him. He smiled when Jaskier sat across from him, drinking down ale and eating, all while managing to talk a mile a minute. Even with Jaskier’s energy waning, he wanted to keep going, explained to Geralt how wonderful all of this was.

It wasn’t until midnight that Jaskier was finally ready to go to bed and Geralt kept listening as Jaskier kept on talking.

“Did you know I’ve performed for royalty?” Jaskier grinned as he unbuttoned his doublet. “Quite a few of those courts had me come back for an encore.”

Geralt was already climbing onto the bed and he watched Jaskier dance around the room, despite his exhaustion. “Then we’ll have to find one for you to perform at again.”

Jaskier’s face lit up and he all but bounced to the bed once he was ready. “Do you mean it?”

“Sometimes kings and queens need my help,” Geralt shrugged. “At the very least the coin will be good.”

Jaskier laughed and blew out the candle before shuffling close to Geralt, arm tucked under his head. “I’m so very lucky to have you, Geralt.”

Geralt’s heart thumped in his chest and he looked at Jaskier’s face in the darkness. There were no lies or deceit, nothing but a shining admiration that stared back. Geralt fought with himself, opened his mouth to say the words back, but Jaskier’s eyes began to droop and he curled closer to Geralt. Taking a chance, Geralt tucked himself into Jaskier and let himself be carried away by the soft breaths, the warmth of a gentle rest.

When morning came, there were no complaints of the early hour and Jaskier was quiet for most of the walk to the graveyard. Thick fog surrounded them, the eerie silence ringing in Geralt’s ears. A crypt finally came into view and Geralt held his hand out behind him, motioning Jaskier to stay. With a glance, he caught Jaskier’s nod before he charged on ahead, sliding through the door that clung to its hinges.

The area was too dark, but Geralt could already smell the bruxae and he hastily pulled out a potion, drinking it in a single gulp. As his transformation took over, the bruxae pounced, barely giving Geralt time to pull out his silver sword. His first swipe hit the target, but he had a near miss with a swipe of talons. Rolling out of the way, Geralt cast Igni, causing some of the bruxae to break from the group. Those unaffected narrowed in, the small space even more cramped as Geralt was surrounded on all sides.

With a growl, Geralt leapt and swiped, predicting the moves of a hive mind as he finished off another bruxa. Growls and screams pierced his ears, but he did not stop, even as claws dug into his back. His mind became a muted haze, practiced precision and instinct guiding him. He didn’t feel pain, didn’t see or hear the carnage until the last body dropped. Left in a pile of bodies and guts, Geralt heaved a breath and kicked down the crypt door, the potion still running through his veins.

The sun was beginning to rise, the graveyard a much more pleasant state than before with the dissolving fog. Marching through the tombstones, Geralt finally made it back to where he had left Jaskier and he wiped his sword on the grass.

He didn’t dare look at Jaskier, his chest still heaving, mumbled growls escaping from his mouth.

“Oh, Geralt, your eyes,” Jaskier began softly. “Can I sing about them? They’re magnificent.”

Geralt snapped his gaze towards Jaskier and tilted his head, flashing a bit of fang. “Magnificent?” he rumbled.

Jaskier nodded, almost a little too gleefully, and took a step closer to Geralt. “How long does this last?”

“Should wear off soon,” Geralt answered, the colliding thoughts in his mind forming a headache.

He squeezed his eyes shut, gripped tight to his sword as he tried to steady himself. Jaskier was ridiculous and Geralt loved him for it.

Eyes flying open, Geralt stared at Jaskier, realized what he had just thought. Surely this was all part of a dream, but with Jaskier watching him, his eyes shining with concern, Geralt couldn’t convince himself of anything but the truth.

With the potion beginning to subside, Geralt sheathed his sword and soaked in the rays of the rising sun as Jaskier shuffled closer.

“Let’s get you back. I see a wound there that needs attending to,” Jaskier pointed, tugging at Geralt’s sleeve.

“Just a scratch,” Geralt reassured.

He touched the wound and winced, but seeing just a bit of blood on his fingers meant he was already on his way to healing. However, he let Jaskier drag him along and chatter as the potion worked its way out of his system.

“It was so quiet waiting for you. I thought for sure something had happened but then there you were. How many were there? Do you always take that potion before fighting bruxae?”

Geralt did his best to answer Jaskier’s questions, to keep up with his buzzing mind. When they had made it back to the town, Geralt was then bombarded by the townsfolk with even more enquiring and small bags of coin being handed his way.

With arms full, both he and Jaskier finally settled into the safety of their room in which Geralt was quickly pushed into a bath while Jaskier fussed over him.

“Well, it shouldn’t need any stitches, but we’ll wrap it up for now,” Jaskier explained as he cleaned Geralt’s wounds.

He tsked at the fresh cuts on his back, dutifully worked all the blood and grime out of Geralt’s hair. Before long, Geralt was deemed clean enough and Jaskier braided Geralt’s hair into a neat plait.

As Geralt dressed, Jaskier counted through their coin, sorting it into a larger bag while forming a small pile to the side.

“I’d say we’ve had quite a day. Let’s explore the town, have a bit of fun.”

Geralt raised a brow at this but motioned for Jaskier to lead the way, following him into the bustling streets. Nearly every vendor offered them a discount and Geralt soon found out just how much Jaskier enjoyed shopping. Bundle upon bundle filled both their hands, yet Jaskier still managed to leave with a fair amount of coin by the end.

Taking a seat at the town square’s fountain, the two companions took to people watching while sharing a small meal. Geralt let the warmth of Jaskier wash over him as he savored the little bit of peace he was allowed.

“–and this one has raspberries,” Jaskier took Geralt’s hand and opened it.

He placed a small tartlet on Geralt’s palm, explaining every ingredient as if he had made the dessert himself. Geralt ate carefully as he watched Jaskier enjoy his own food and the sunny day.

It had been such a long journey, but Geralt was learning who Jaskier was, what hid beneath the surface. To see him happy, unafraid, was perfection. He could watch this forever and truly be content.

“What?” Jaskier grinned when he caught Geralt’s stare.

Geralt ducked his head with a noncommittal noise, searching for any excuse. However, Jaskier jumped in first, ushering Geralt to his feet.

“Let’s go back to the inn. I have something for Roach,” Jaskier collected their packages.

Helping Jaskier with the load, Geralt stuck by his side, letting himself throw glances back and forth with Jaskier.

How wonderful this all was, the world around Geralt fading away until it was just him and Jaskier.

Geralt and Jaskier had been back on the road for a few days now, settling down by a small fire for the evening. There was a soft, warm wind and the two sat in content silence as they worked on their whittling.

“Geralt, what makes you happy?”

Looking up from his knife, Geralt watched Jaskier’s hardened focus on his own wood carving. His face was scrunched in concentration, but he repeated his question again.

“I don’t know,” came Geralt’s reply.

That was his honest truth. He wasn’t sure what happiness was, if he had ever truly experienced it. Whatever came into his life was either necessity or a means to an end. Not based on raw emotion.

“Really?” Jaskier frowned, his knife coming to an abrupt stop.

“What do you mean by happy?” Geralt shrugged.

“Well,” Jaskier chewed on his lip. “Anything. The best meal you’ve ever had, when a shopkeeper gives you a good deal.”

Geralt let out a small cynical laugh at this. “That’s happiness?”

Jaskier nodded, his smile gentle. The fire crackled between them, Geralt still without a proper answer and Jaskier waiting patiently. As if picking up on Geralt’s hesitation, Jaskier set his work to the side, his gaze cast downward.

“When you first saved me, I thought it would be impossible to be happy again. In the hours drifting between our world and the next, I was ready to give up. But then, your kindness, your patience, it reignited my hope and when you made me smile, that’s when I truly knew what happiness was.”

Geralt’s heart thumped in his chest. Jaskier’s honesty was almost too much, but Geralt didn’t want to stop hearing it either. He stiffened as Jaskier got to his feet and sat close to him, their sides almost touching. Amber eyes stared into deep blue, heartbeat pounding in Geralt’s ears. He opened his mouth and he spoke without a thought.

“You. You make me happy.”

Jaskier’s breath hitched, but he didn’t pull his gaze away from Geralt. “Do you really mean that?”

Geralt nodded, his grip on his knife and the carved wood tightening. When warm hands enveloped his own, there was a tingling sensation, specks of starlight floated in his vision.

“Geralt, may I kiss you?”

The world was fading away, there was nothing at all beyond the gaze of admiration in Jaskier’s eyes. Geralt wanted to stay in this forever and whispered his affirming answer. When soft lips pressed against his own, Geralt let his eyes slowly close, allowed his defenses to fall down. He and Jaskier breathed in tandem together, holding their embrace for as long as they were allowed. Neither could tell who pulled away first, but it didn’t matter as they held their foreheads together, their breathing loud in their ears.

“Thank you for not stabbing me.”

Geralt blinked, glanced down, and realized his knife was still tight in his grip. A breathy laugh left him and he set everything to the side before taking hold of Jaskier’s hands. Jaskier grinned, leaned back in to place a small kiss on the corner of Geralt’s mouth. Geralt’s heart stuttered and he tugged Jaskier closer to properly hug him. Tucking his face into the crook of Jaskier’s neck, Geralt inhaled sharply as the feeling of Jaskier took over.

“Let’s lay down, hm?” Jaskier’s fingers danced across Geralt’s shoulders.

Geralt nodded into Jaskier’s neck, reluctant to pull away. The prospect of cuddling with Jaskier was stronger, however and they were quick to get ready for the evening before settling down in front of the fire. Jaskier curled up behind Geralt, settled a strong arm across his chest as he nuzzled at the back of Geralt’s neck.

With his hand slipping over Jaskier’s, Geralt tangled their fingers together and soon all the tension in his body had faded away. Jaskier’s breath on his skin was a reminder, a hope, that no matter what was to come, they would always have each other.

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #fic: salvation by indigo #indigo's side shitposting

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lemonietrinket · 4 years

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Jae’s Divine Intervention ||| Wonpil x Reader, Jae & Reader

Summary: Jae finds out about your crush on Wonpil and naturally takes the mick out of you. And when you get to play detective, you find out he’s perhaps more supportive than you would normally imagine. Genre: Humour, fluff [if you guys dont find this funny then i... its just me] Warning(s): Some cursing all done in jest (2x sh*t) Word Count: 7735 Theme Song: Tonight - The Solutions; Dive - iKON; Hold - Winner AN: A request from anon, hope you enjoy! I’m sorry it took a while, it’s a lot longer than I usually write tho so I hope that makes up for it gender neutral reader

~~~

“Wonpil?!”

“Jae, I swear to christ—”

“Wonpil?!” Jae’s voice was rising in pitch by the second, a look of astounded horror on his face.

“Yes, Wonpil, what’s so—”

“Our keys? The snake? Our snake that plays the keys?”

“Really, you’re still using that? That’s like, three years old Jae—”

“You—you took one look at the pink sweater and went hmmm, yes, this is the hot stuff, real sexy—”

“Jae!”

“—any man that wears this I will date him on the spot—!”

“Jae!”

The man cackled, leaning right back into his gaming chair with his head tipped over the side. “Oh my god this is just...!”

You pressed your tongue to your cheek, waiting for the grown man to gather himself up. Though, knowing Jae, it could well take a while. “You finished?”

He swung back, elbows coming to his knees with his eyes incredulous. “Kim Wonpil?”

“Yes.”

“Not Brian?”

“Why would it be Brian?”

He inhaled through his teeth, tutting. “It’s always Brian. And then, of course, yours truly.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “I regret ever talking to you.”

He sat back, sending you a smirk. “Nahh, you would never regret me.”

“Can we just go back to discussing like, dinner tonight?” you glanced distastefully around at his room, taking note of the pile of laundry abandoned by his wardrobe. “Like I came into your lair for in the first place?”

“Hey, easy there—!”

“Honestly Sungjin would have a fit if he comes in here,” you announced, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Well it’s a good job he isn’t coming in here.” Jae easily met your stare, pursing his lips, knowing full well that starting a battle with him would be the hardest you could try to win in the dorm. You backed down, but didn’t shy away from his stare as he pressed his fingertips together, taking on the role of a faux mastermind, “But no, dinner can wait, because this—this—is much more intriguing.”

Taking in the nod of his head, and the smug grin on his features, you realised that you weren’t going to escape as you’d hoped. Might as well be comfortable.

“Now,” he began once you took a seat on his bed, flicking a rogue sock to the floor, “start from the beginning. When did you realise that you were hopelessly in love with this, Mr Kim.”

“Since when was this an interrogation?” you interjected. “Also I am not ‘hopelessly in love’!”

“Infatuated?”

“No!”

“Lovesick?”

“Not a bit!”

“Helplessly inclined on the edge of your seat to hang upon his every little word?”

You didn’t even answer him that time and merely glared at him.

He nodded pensively, patting a finger against his chin as he murmured, “In denial, interesting...”

“What?!”

He changed tact. “Do you not know the exact time for your realisation for your deep feelings?”

“Even if I did I wouldn’t tell you,” you sulked, folding your arms crossly. He let out a quiet ‘aww’, which you ignored to the best of your capacity. “What has gotten into you?”

“I’m just trying to work out if you are,” he cleared his throat, “fit for my closest colleague and good friend. After all, we’ve been through so much, I wouldn’t want any harm to come to him—”

There were many things wrong to his wistful, jesting sentence, but there was one thing that you had to refute: “Last week you told Sungjin you would sell Pillie out for half a churro.”

His smart mouth stopped for a few seconds, and you figured briefly that you’d perhaps won and could leave. Alas, you were mistaken.

“Refers to Mr Kim as ‘Pillie’, indicating a very special degree of endearment, interesting...”

You groaned, falling back onto the rest of the mattress, asking the world what you’d done to deserve this.

Truth be told, Jae wasn’t worried for his bandmate or you in the slightest. Hearing your accidental slip of your feelings, everything seemed to come together at once and fit like two missing jigsaw pieces. You both had traits that accentuated the other, and you got along so well. If you two got together, he discerned, there would be few power couples that could compete.

He didn’t understand shipping culture, but this was perhaps his one exception. It just made sense! His soft charms next to your harder ones, your sense next to his sunny optimism, the both of you still sharing much in common.

“Six months,” you suddenly admitted.

“Hmm?”

“My, you do delight in my torment,” you grumbled before shooting him a look that softened as you continued, the memory trickling to the surface and making it impossible for you to not smile. “I’ve liked him for six months. It hit me when he fell asleep on my shoulder on our trip up to Incheon.”

One of those shared things being bouts of shyness.

He decided in that moment that it was time for some divine intervention.

“That’s a long time ago,” he mentioned, “and you haven’t done anything about it?”

“How could I?” you countered, though it was more sad than feisty. “How do I confess to the gentlest, happiest soul? How am I supposed to even know if he likes me back? He’s cuddly with everyone, you know.”

One glance at your crestfallen eyes that shone through your little chuckle lit a spark in his head.

“Don’t you worry, Y/N. God works in mysterious ways,” he reassured, sending you a wink.

And so began the grand unravelling of The Great Jae’s plan.

Step 1: Establish if the Feelings are Mutual

The first step, as Jae understood it, was crucial—nothing else could be done until he knew if the keyboardist also had a whopping crush on his friend. And they had made some fair points about how hard it would be to calculate whether Wonpil was just being friendly affectionate or more than that.

So, to get the answer cleanly without collateral, Jae concocted a plan so cunning he could put a tail on it and call it a weasel.

The next day, Jae slipped into the practice room, after locating his whereabouts through a super secret and effective method dubbed as ‘asking Sungjin’. He strode up to the keyboard set where the younger was staring intently at one of the keys, swiftly adopting a confident stance—he would not be swayed by any sneak attacks, and especially not attempted deflections with puppy eyes: a weapon he knew his bandmate was highly proficient in.

Hearing him mumbling about whether they should invent a H note, Jae made the choice to enact Step 1, taking advantage of the possible surprise characteristic.

“Wonpil, do you like Y/N?”

Peering up with his classic bright smile, Wonpil answered him swiftly, “Yeah!”

Jae frowned, the response seeming too quick. He had to comprehend it as a misunderstanding of his question. He pressed the charge. “Well, yeah, I figured you liked them, but I meant it as in more of a—”

“I know how you meant it, hyung,” he looked back at the keys, testing a C tentatively.

“Oh.” Jae was surprised to say the least. “How did you...?”

“I’ve been waiting for one of you to ask me,” he explained poutily, “you always seemed to tease me about it when I didn’t have someone, and then as soon as I actually fell, not a peep.”

Jae had to admit that the entire exchange had caught him off guard, as he became distinctly aware of how slowly the cogs were turning in his head. “You were... waiting?”

He nodded urgently at the sound board, twisting a dial as he held his ear closer to the instrument.

“You know the sound isn’t on right?”

“The key is squeaky.”

“Oh.”

“Of course I was waiting,” Wonpil replied simply, taking a simpering pause, “aren’t you going to ask me?”

Jae watched as the younger suddenly sat up and swung himself to look at the legs of his keyboard stand, giving them a good wobble. There was no doubt a squeak then.

“Ask what, about what you like about them?” he suggested, not really sure himself.

“Finally!” The younger threw himself back out from underneath the instrument. “Everything, hyung, I think I’m actually in love! Their laugh, their kindness, their eyes, their jokes—I feel like I’m going to burst whenever I see them, like into just, laughter, I can’t stop smiling, I just want to hug them and kiss their nose...” When he knocked his head back up to him, his smile was even brighter, his cheeks lightly blushed. “Is this what Younghyun-hyung means when he says that love hurts?”

Jae was more than happy to hear proof—it meant Step 1 was a success after all—but hearing the sap did mean he had to hide his grimace. But now he was presented with a more severe problem, as he knew full well that wasn’t what the bassist, who could dip into the realms of emo territory, meant at all by that phrase.

It didn’t mean he was going to explain it. Especially seeing those eyes brimming with adoration for his closest friend—he cursed at himself giving into the puppy eyes after all.

“Yeah, probably,” he answered vaguely, opting to change the subject, “well, I’d better be off, thanks!”

“Hey, hyung, where do you think you’re going?” Wonpil called after him as he attempted to make a tactical retreat, having gathered the information he needed.

Jae turned around, lying through his teeth as his brain searched for an excuse. “I... well, I need to go and do...”

“Without wishing me good luck on fixing my keyboard stand?” he enquired, pouting childishly from the other side of the room.

“Good luck...?”

“Ok, you can go!” he announced, sending a wave. “Bye!”

And with that, Jae exited the practice room, frowning at his reflection in the glass of the window as he passed through. Wonpil was strange sometimes, that was for sure.

It didn’t matter in the long run though, it was going to be your problem soon rather than his—a thought that elicited a snicker from him—and with Step 1 complete, he could proceed to Step 2.

Step 2: Create the Confession Arrangement

Jae had figured that the third step would have required the most work, but he had be drastically wrong. He’d presumed coming up with the perfect scenario for a confession would have been easy, but once he’d sat down in the living room to think in peace, an hour later he found himself lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, without a single idea in his head.

Chasing the tails of all the ideas that taunted him and skipped just out of reach every time in his head, he barely heard the sound of someone else entering the fray. And he would have continued to have done, had the newcomer not come to stand beside him and peered over his sprawled body.

“Hyung, are you ok?”

The deep voice snapped his eyes from where they were transfixed on the ceiling to the cherubic face of Dowoon, currently in the process of devouring a pretzel.

Jae snorted, still barely comprehending his presence. “Of course.”

The younger tilted his head to see him somewhat the correct way up. “Are you sure? You’re laying on the floor.”

“I am aware, and yes, a hundred percent,” he answered, putting on a confident front as best he could, “this, young padawan, is the sight of a master at work.”

Dowoon hummed in an agreement of sorts, “Oh, right.” He took a deep bite of the sweet dough. “What are you working on?”

Jae finally recognised the notable rustling of a paper packet, his eyes falling to the treat. “I am devising the most wondrous plan the world has seen to—is that my vanilla pretzel?”

“No.”

He said it so quick and devoid of emotion there was no way to tell whether it was a lie or not. Jae was left peering up at the man as he took another bite, who sent him a thumbs up as a form of endorsement. “Right. Well... I am devising a plan that will get Wonpil and Y/N to admit their feelings for one another and finally unite as the planet’s best ship and sail off into the distance together!” A victorious grin on his lips, he looked like a man that had already found success. “I have already completed Step 1 with peak success, now I must move to Step 2 and—”

“What was Step 1?”

“Finding out whether their feelings were mutual, of course!” Jae guffawed, surprised that Dowoon could not connect the two dots.

He peered over to him again to see him frowning as he angled himself to take the final bite of the pretzel. Before he could ask what the matter was, he preempted him, stating, “You didn’t know?”

That caught the eldest off guard. “What?”

“You didn’t know that they both like each other?” he glanced towards him, eyes expectant as he shoved the dough past his lips. “I thought everyone knew.”

“Well, I...” Jae coughed, quickly covering his back, “...there’s a difference between assumption and ascertaining proof, maknae. Now that I have evidence I may move onto Step 2.”

“And that is?”

Jae caught the tone of curiosity this time in the intonation of the man’s deep voice, making note to take advantage of it as soon as possible. “Create the confession arrangement. I must make a scenario where the only possible eventuality is that the two confess to one another their true feelings.”

Dowoon nodded, licking his fingertips free of leftover sugar.

“You wanna help?” he enquired, angling his head to get a better view of his band mate’s features, waiting for the smile to arise.

“Sure.” Discarding the paper bag on the coffee table nearby, he lowered himself to the floor, laying on his back and mimicking his elder.

“Good choice,” Jae clapped, turning his attention back to the ceiling.

“What ideas have you got so far, then?” Dowoon began, drumming his fingers against his stomach as he followed suit.

“Well...” Panic filtered through Jae’s system, as he suddenly realised he didn’t have even the tiniest beginnings of a thread to follow, let alone a part of a suggestion. “We could lock them in a room,” his mouth said before his brain could catch up. He cursed to himself in his head. No, that was stupid. It was so inhumane!

“What, like an escape room scenario?”

Jae’s head immediately tilted towards the man lying beside him. Yoon Dowoon, as things turned out, was a secret genius.

Without warning, he laughed, getting to his feet and grabbing the younger by his hand to pull him up after him. “Yes! Exactly like an escape room!” He held him by the shoulders and asked, “Do you have any ideas for any puzzles? Or riddles? Could be an anagram, or a pattern somehow, maybe general knowledge based?”

Dowoon thought long and hard for a moment, and it showed on his face, his dark eyes going wide as his jaw dropped. “No, but I know where to get the keys to the locks on the doors.”

Their eyes met for a good few seconds as Jae mulled over the decision of whether to bring up how he had obtained such knowledge. He finally rationalised he’d ask at another less frantic time.

“Great!” he exclaimed, before ordering, “You go sort that. I’ll go get some pens and paper. Be quick!”

And so Step 2 was in motion.

Step 3: Organise the Confession Arrangement

“Ok, listen up soldiers,” Jae declared, “because here’s the plan.”

He was stood at the front of the work room beside a board that he’d stolen from the marketing block, proudly displaying a rudimentary plan of the dormitory and accompanied by several haphazard arrows drawn in a dying pen. He overlooked the rest of the room courageously, eyeing up his gang of abductees volunteers, who merely stared at him confusedly in return.

“Why am I here, again?” Sungjin suddenly enquired, glancing around the room. “This surely is one of those Things-We-Don’t-Tell-Sungjin-About things, right? I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to know about this.”

“But none of us do...!” Jae uttered, rolling his palms to encourage the others to catch onto his meaning. They didn’t. “None of us know about it, yeah? Because none of us did it!”

“But that makes no sense,” Sungjin rationalised immediately, “because someone will have had to have set all the puzzles up?”

Jae didn’t have an answer to that. To both a blessing and a curse, however, he didn’t have to reply to that question. He just got another one in its place.

“I’m sorry, wait, what are we even doing?” Younghyun interjected, glaring at the hastily dictated plan with a curled lip.

“Getting Wonpil and Y/N together, we’ve been over this, Brian.”

“Surely they can just... do it themselves though, right?” Sungjin countered, squinting at the header of the board. “It really doesn’t require an all-out, multi-step plan—is this Step 3?”

“Good to see you’re checking the diagram,” Jae retorted.

Younghyun’s voice was incredulous, “How many steps are there?!”

“Four.” It was Dowoon’s turn to interrupt, it seemed, and he piped up fluidly before Jae could try to regain any control upon the late night board meeting.

“What were steps 1 and 2?!”

“Step 2 was inventing this beautiful idea,” Jae started.

Only for Dowoon to finish, “Step 1 was him working out if Wonpil liked Y/N back.”

It was their turn to eye Jae up in disbelief, a chorus erupting:

“You didn’t know?!”

“How can you’ve not known?!”

“All he does is pine after them...!”

“Alright alright!” Jae called, pleading for the three to settle. To his fortune they did, but most likely only out of the prospective joy of him further making a fool of himself. “The past steps don’t matter, I need your help now to complete Step 3. You will all reap the benefits of Step 4, when this is all a success because—as you said—all Wonpil does is pine after Y/N. This,” he pointed assertively to the diagram, “will put a stop to all that!”

Silence settled over the room as the three all glanced at each other, all nodding in some form in agreement.

Jae took the chance and continued, his hand laying out the directions on the board as he spoke, “So, all we have to is move Wonpil to Y/N’s room, and set up the puzzles in there. Sungjin, Dowoon, you’re on set-up, Brian you’re on lift duty. It is all objectively simple, but one wrong move could wake either of them up thus exposing the entire ploy and I’ve yet to come up with an excuse so you’ll be on your own.”

“Of course,” Younghyun muttered, not even bothering to look Jae in the eye to convey the sense of how done he was.

“You’re not helping?” Dowoon piped up, his soft features portraying a slight hue of hurt.

“I can’t, Y/N already expects me. If I’m caught then there’s zero opportunity of a follow up plan—at least one that features me,” Jae explained, ignoring the mumbles of ‘perhaps it would be better that way’ that echoed around the room. He shot a look to the one he suspected the most of being the owner of said grumblings, watching as he leant back in his chair.

“Can this not at least wait ‘til tomorrow?” Younghyun requested, emphasising his point with a yawn.

“No! Y/N is out Saturday, and regardless we must strike while the iron is hot!”

This sent the energy of the room from benevolent boredom to startled flurry.

“It’s happening right now?!” The leader desperately looked to the eldest for reassurance that this was most certainly not the case, only to find none.

“Yep,” he stated, a shrug on his shoulders and a smirk on his lips. “Once you’re done, you make sure you leave no trace of yourselves and lock the door. Leave the key on the living room table and then you may return to your own rooms and do what you wish—as long as there is no noise. If their sleep is interrupted, the plan could quickly go south,” he finished with a clap, “now, positions everyone! And good luck!”

With only a few groans, the three practically sprung into action, much to Jae’s surprise. Dowoon piled up the props and prompts riddled with such in his arms, Sungjin holding the door for him and Younghyun who both head out in quick succession.

“Thank you, Sungjin,” Jae called to the door. He received an expression of many emotions—disdain, disbelief, bemusement—all around a set of very bright eyes. He exhaled abruptly in what was a laugh that demonstrated that mixture, before leaving with the shake of his head.

It was showtime.

You awoke gradually to the sun streaming through the wide gap between the curtains. Groaning, you cursed to yourself about how you’d forgotten to close them the night before.

After admitting that if you wanted to go back to sleep or even just lay in your bed in peace for a bit longer the curtains would have to close, you sat up, only to swear you had shut them the night before.

Rolling out of the covers dozily, you hobbled over to the window, squinting against the light, where upon the curtain tie you found a piece of paper dictating a series of hand-drawn triangles in shades of pink, grey and white. Rubbing your eyes you tried to detach it, only to find it secured with string.

Feeling confusion flush through your bones as quickly as the sleep left them, you looked across the room to see another sheet of thin card this time, roughly torn at the corner and branded with a giant, rounded, crimson splodge adorned with a malformed triangle of green.

Both thoughtless and speechless in entirety, your eyes frantically searched the room for further signs of intrusion. To your disturbance you found your room littered with rudimentary placards, decorated with strange arrows directing to one another, or strange looped calligraphy. One was stuck crudely to a Star Wars shopping bag, and as much as you enjoyed The Rise of Skywalker, you definitely did not have a bag for it. Another was blatantly an anagram. Making the mistake of looking up you were confronted with a gigantic poster of a film with the title and cast heading covered by MS Paint swirls. The image depicted seemed familiar, but it didn’t make their staring faces any less intimidating as they glared at you from your ceiling. It was as if you’d walked into a nightmare that was haunted by puzzless.

“What the actual, ever loving f—” Your voice cut off as soon as your gaze finally rested back upon your bed. Only to find someone else in it.

Thoroughly creeped out, your brain ricocheting through thoughts and questions like they were caught in a hurricane—who is that, how long have they been there, they were sleeping right next to me, they snuck into my room, is it a sasaeng, did they do anything—you were ready to charge towards the door and yell your lungs out for help.

Until the figure shifted in their sleep, their arms thrown up cutely by their head which peaked out from behind the duvet. It was Wonpil.

Breath catching in your throat, your hand clasped itself to your mouth in an effort to not shriek in surprise more than anything.

You’d shared your bed with Wonpil. He’d been right beside you, his beautiful face just inches from yours, sleeping peacefully with his hands sweetly gripping the covers and his adorable little snores—

Your heart lurched at the image your mind conjured, for it to then crash over the fact that he had the audacity to sneak into your room. The conundrum before you left you in turmoil—you couldn’t believe that you’d fallen so hard for a man who would break into your room in the middle of the night and disregard your privacy so blazonly.

It didn’t make any sense. You’d known Wonpil for a while, and he showed so much respect the entirety of that time. Yes, he was clingy, but you could think of multiple occasions where you had told him to back off and give you space, because you were stressed or angry with someone else or even just too hot to let him lay on your shoulder, and every time he did. You couldn’t think of a single time when he came into your room without knocking either.

But was that enough to discount the ‘first time for everything’ rule?

Given the circumstances, perhaps it was.

Regarding the mess of your room again, it was plausible that Wonpil could have put up some of the weird pieces of card, but he couldn’t have done it all—not without help at least. Taking in the height of your ceiling, he was too short to reach it. Had someone stood on your bed you would have woken up, there was no doubt about it, and you didn’t have a desk in your room, so there was no chairs to stand on. The nearest ones were in the others’ rooms, but it seemed too far of a stretch—especially since you knew that there was one person that could reach.

Jae.

You glared in disdain at the corner of your room as if you were on The Office, until you remembered that you weren’t alone in the room.

Taking a deep breath you silently made your way across your rug to the side of your bed. Kneeling in the soft cotton you took in the sight of Wonpil closer this time, resisting the urge to stroke his soft cheek that he’d puffed out as he pouted in his sleep. Perhaps it wouldn’t be long before he woke.

“This wasn’t you, was it,” you murmured to him, taking gentle delight in how he wriggled towards you in his sleep at the distant sound of your voice. He looked so sweet, and the concept of being able to wake up to him beside you every morning made heat rush to your cheeks like a tsunami.

He was so good at making you smile, he could do it without even trying. The thought reminded you of when he had gone out of his way to somewhat try to, making you his chosen target for the only ‘prank’ he’d ever performed. He’d decided that he would for his prank debut place tiny plastic dinosaurs around the place for you to run into. You’d been bemused, but only for a day, quickly finding him out after catching him placing one in the fridge.

It was fortunate that you’d been reminded of the memory—even if you were primarily focused on how angelically he’d giggled a threadbare excuse that neither of you believed for a second but only made you fall in love further—as it that had been a while ago, and filling your room with strange and distastefully carried out puzzles was not what you figured his prank comeback would be. He would at the very least make them look nice.

“I’m sorry for doubting you,” you whispered, tucking the blanket further to his chin to keep him warm before getting to your feet again. You had to admit, you got a bit of a rush out of playing detective, and with a theory hot on your mind, you knew it wouldn’t be long before you found evidence that proved it.

First you checked the door it discover it locked as you had expected. Then you moved to the puzzles. Staring intently at the placards, you found that they all pointed to someone who was either awful at editing and drawing alike, or had simply done it in haste and didn’t care for the visual outcome. However this was not as concrete as you’d imagined. You definitely couldn’t see it being anyone other than Jae but after checking several puzzles and not seeing a single bad joke or reference in sight, you were beginning to doubt your first impressions.

Hearing the bed creak and a groggy whine muffled by a yawn, you flicked your head away from your wardrobe. There you found Wonpil sat up in a nest of your duvets at his waist, with dishevelled hazel tresses endowing him with faux cat ears or sorts. He was barely awake and hardly functioning, blinking lethargically while he slowly returned to the world of the living.

“Morning,” you greeted with a stutter, clearing your throat sheepishly straight after.

His lips spread cutely into a grin. “Morning...!” he sang.

It took several minutes of you trying to maintain your gaze on the messy art piece that was sleepy Wonpil, before giving up and disappointedly returning to the barely-legible riddle in your hands, for the man to finally speak with up with a frown.

“Wait, why are you in my room?” he enquired, rubbing his nose. “Did you sneak in...?”

“Actually you’re in mine,” you corrected, squinting at the calligraphy so as to let him come to terms with the situation.

His eyes opened in a flash, glancing around the room in astonishment. “Oh my god why am—I’m in yours?!” He gushed with apologies. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t sneak in I promise, I don’t remember coming in here! I don’t understand... did I sleepwalk...?”

“If you did it would be a first,” you stated, chucking the paper to the bin near your closet and staggering to your feet, “it’s ok, Pil, I’m not mad. Besides, I think you were carried.”

“Carried?”

“You always were a heavy sleeper. But that does mean that Younghyun or Dowoon are in on this, which means I don’t understand what this whole thing is,” you explained, glancing up at the ceiling and sighing exasperatedly, “do you recognise that movie?”

Following your line of sight, he jumped at the sudden pair of eyes that he found staring at him. He shook his head. “N-no. Y/N... what’s going on?”

“Apparently the guys decided that for their latest prank they were going to make an escape room of sorts, and then stuck you in here with me for double the fun.”

“But why?”

You shrugged. “I guess they’ll open the door if we figure out all the puzzles of something. Problem is these puzzles are like, stupidly hard.” You pointed over to his right. “Like, why is there a mutant tomato on my wall?”

“Ew,” Wonpil said with a grimace as he beheld the visage of the red splodge.

“I know right. Whichever one of the did it should never consider art school. Like, ever.”

Silence fell over the two of you as your eyebrows knit together, once again thinking over the possible answers to any of the dozens of puzzles. Wonpil meanwhile slipped out of your blankets and headed towards the door.

You had half a mind to call out to him and say it was locked, but you figured he’d already worked that out, so instead you watched him out of curiosity.

He came to the door with a stop, rattled on the door handle once, then twice, before pressing his face close to the wood. “Sungjin!” he wailed, before pressing his ear to it to listen.

For several moments there was complete utter quiet over the room and the dorm outside. The only sound that could be heard was the birds outside, and even they broke into quiet when they heard an unusual absence of chatter.

Then out of the blue Wonpil stiffened in his place, before leaning in even further, his features alert.

After a few seconds you enquired mimicking the quiet, “What is it?”

“I think I just heard someone tell Sungjin that he ‘needed to remain strong’,” Wonpil looked at you quizzically, “what does that mean?”

“Sungjin’s in on it too?” You were hugely surprised by that, so much so that you couldn’t hide it in your voice, the volume tipping out of the realms of a murmur. You’d thought it was a certainty that Sungjin was not aware of what was going on, because he was too mature to play along. But you’d clearly gotten him wrong this time around. “Th-that must mean this is serious,” you continued, slipping into a slow pacing motion across to the window and back, “that it’s super funny, or that he goes to seriously gain something from this.”

“But how is this funny, I’m not laughing...!” Wonpil said with a pout audible on his lips. He wondered if there was a funnier side that he was missing out on due to his concern for you overpowering it. He didn’t like how you stepped back and forth, even if it was only slow and steady and hardly impulsive. He didn’t want you to be stressed, he wanted you to be happy. It dawned on him that it was becoming increasingly harder for him to hold himself back from meeting you part-way and bring you to a stop, his hands brushing your shoulders and squeezing them gently in reassurance as he met your eyes— He shook his head, sending him hurtling out of his imagination just in time to hear you agree.

“Exactly, unless he wrote some of the riddles and his sense of humour was not what I thought it was—what we thought it was.”

“But Sungjin would never use stuff this bad!” he cried, hand motioning to the poorly executed diagrams while his eyes trailed away from you and onto the tomato on the wall. “He would be much more careful than... that—I don’t think he ever could make something that ugly!”

“Exactly!” you echoed his tone of urgency. “Which means he stands to gain! But what the hell does he get out of locking two people in a room with a bunch of evil puzzles?”

Watching your form become gradually tenser by the second, Wonpil’s resolve against his desires loosened before unravelling entirely.

He strode unusually powerfully across the floor, his body blocking you and your pacing in your tracks. His proximity startled you, but as his hands came to gently held your shoulders you realised how tense your body had accidentally become. Taking a deep breath as best you could with the biggest crush you’d ever had standing right in front of you, you slowly began to calm down. It was just a stupid prank, there was really no reason to get worked up to that extent, or anywhere near it.

Your thoughts drifted from the circumstances you were currently trapped in however, supplanted by the feel of Wonpil’s touch, and the way his eyes met yours. His eyes were so pretty you felt yourself sink head over heels in them whenever you accidentally made contact. And the emotion that filled them to the brim at that moment and let them glimmer even more than normal in the radiant sunlight caught you even further off guard. You’d seen it a lot, even in large doses, and how it made him look even softer, even more adorable, made you almost spill words from between your lips. However like this, you could barely handle it.

“Sorry,” you said, willing your voice to remain stable unlike your heartbeat.

“No, don’t be sorry! We’ll get...” It felt like he didn’t want to end his sentence but forced himself to. “So, they’re all in on this?”

His hands fell away from you, just as you looked away from him, unable to catch your breath otherwise. As it turned out it was a lucky move at the right moment. “Yeah, it seems so. N-now why? That’s the question. I don’t know, but what I do know is—”

Having pulled away, you’d begun to walk back to the door, thinking up the words to perhaps call out and talk them into freeing the two of you. Though as you did, your peripheral caught the odd transformation your closet door had done.

After performing a ridiculously overplayed doubletake that would have appeared to any onlookers out of context as fake, you noticed that there was a nearly full-sized image of a deep chestnut archway with the poor illusion (due to the angle) of a small opening inside. Drawing nearer you were able to make out a speckled grate suspended in the right wall of the wooden box.

What the image printed over three sheets of paper was sprung to your head immediately, much alike the jigsaw pieces jumbled in your head slotted together.

It was a confession chamber.

You had to confess, but not to a priest. To Wonpil.

“God works in mysterious ways...” you remembered from the previous day, uttering the words as you replayed them in your mind. “Jae, you shit.”

Wonpil came to your side, peering round to take in your features, searching for an explanation in the sheer beauty he always found there. “What’s wrong?”

“I know how to open the door!” you announced proudly, the sense of victory washing away as you came face to face with what you had to do however.

Wonpil’s characteristic sunny smile rose to his cheeks, all while you sat there barely able to stomach your anxiety. “Yay! What do we have to do?”

You didn’t know how to go about it. You didn’t know whether to tell him, to ramble, to keep it simple, or to just kiss him like you wanted to for however long it had been. “Confess,” was all that tumbled from your mouth, and you immediately regretted speaking at all.

The subject of your affections stood as silently as you did before him. You could see the rush of thoughts in his head, his cheeks flushing as he finally spoke up, “Confess our... sins?”

“Not sins, no...”

It was at that moment you realised your feelings were mutual. He wouldn’t look you in the eye like he always did, he was skipping over the obvious conclusion,and he wasn’t drastically denying a single thing. He didn’t run, nor hide, in fact he leant towards you. It was only a fraction of an angle, but with a small bite of his lip the air fled your lungs.

“Do you...” you breathed, taking a tiniest step towards him—you’d been so close already, but now he was practically against you, just not quite—as your fingers twitched at your sides, “do you want me to do it?”

His nod was strong compared to his voice which was so delicate, as if he couldn’t believe what was unfurling before him. “Please!”

With his encouragement you let those ready fingers ease up to the edge of his jaw, gracing the fine stubble there as you sank you palms against his cheeks and held your dreams in your hands. “Wonpil, I’ve liked you for so long... I fell for you, more than anyone I’ve ever met before. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Don’t say sorry, I didn’t tell you either,” he reminded with a chuckle, his dark eyes bright and shining and wide at you coming ever closer, “and not being near you makes my heart ache so please, just kiss me and make it stop forever.”

You didn’t have to be asked twice.

His hands barely had enough time to snake around your neck as you bridged the gap and let your lips meet at last. And it was like the whole world sighed in relief.

His lips were so warm, the softness etched with all his thoughts and his moments of anxiety and sadness. You wanted to kiss them all away, so that the only ones remained were the ones out of happiness, out of his smiles and playfulness.

It had been so long since you’d began dreaming of this moment, and now it was at last happening you never wanted it to end. But it had to end, and though you felt more than ready to deepen it, there was a click from the door behind you.

Springing away from each other in surprise, you immediately both looked over to the origin of the sound, your hands meeting in place of your lips.

“It worked?” Wonpil asked the air more so than you, his free fingers extending to the handle tentatively.

You drew to him, letting go of his hand to place your own on his shoulders a you peered over them. “I think it did!”

Taking a quick glance at you, he twisted the brass and pulled gently, his jaw dropping as a gap formed.

You were free. Though a small part of you was disappointed, probably completely interested in staying in close proximity to your crush without disturbances for as long as possible.

Except he was no longer your crush! Your heart lurched as the awareness dawned on you. Completely disregarding the situation, you mumbled so only he could hear, “Does this mean you’re my boyfriend?”

Wonpil turned his attention back to you, giggling as he stroked your hair. “Of course dummy. Did I not convince you?” He squished your cheek. “We can do it again if it’ll help!”

You had to laugh, wanting to roll with his suggestion entirely, though seeing a shadow approach through the gap in the doorway you had to turn the offer down for now. “Real soon I promise!” After noting his pout that very nearly overwrote your decision in one fell swoop, you continued, “Not when the person who organised this is right outside.”

Your boyfriend threw his head over his shoulder to see a head duck out of sight. You watched as his eyes swept the room before falling intently on the bed—more specifically, the pillows. “Do you want revenge?”

Catching onto his idea and grinning at how childish and petty it would be—in context that the plan had actually worked—you didn’t hesitate, wanting to get a piece of that ‘divine intervention’ that had thrown your morning into disarray when he could have at least warned you. Besides, it wasn’t like you could turn down a man so precious twice. It would be akin to heresy.

Grabbing both pillows you handed one to Wonpil and came to a halt by the ajar door. “Remember, play dirty when it comes to Jae. He deserves it.”

Sporting his characteristic sunny smile, your boyfriend let out what you had to discern was a cackle as he slipped through the door and led the charge. “You don’t have to tell me.”

A thwack resounded through the dorms from just outside your door and you had to stifle a laugh at the scream that followed.

Perhaps Wonpil didn’t need your help as you had admittedly first expected.

But where was the fun in that.

“I’m telling you we could’ve put the movie on the side of her wardrobe!”

“And I’m telling you it wouldn’t have fit!”

“...You’re never lifting me again.”

You gathered your breath after your surprise revenge assault, sending Dowoon and Sungjin an incredulous look as you passed. Clearly not all your deductions had been correct. Oh well, things had still played out correctly, and catching sight of Younghyun bringing your boyfriend into a side hug as he gushed about how you managed to save them both—clearly playing up the drama but hey, who were you to stop him, you had no qualms with being a knight in shining armour—made a proud blush rise to your cheeks.

Coming further into the living room, you intercepted Jae who had returned from your room after clearing everything up all by himself as you’d ordered.

“I still have no idea why you made me do all that!” he protested as soon as he caught your eye. “This had nothing to do with me! It was, hundred percent, Dowoon. Just Dowoon. He got sick and tired of your pining and...”

You folded your arms, expression proving just how much you didn’t believe his bullshit.

“You don’t believe me!” he exclaimed, hands flapping. “What have I done to deserve this! Am I not a good friend? Loyal? Like a brother—”

You sighed, shaking your head as you walked over to him, before slipping your arms quickly around his chest. He was startled by the sudden display of affection, but hugged you back nevertheless. “Of course I don’t,” you chuckled, “but we wouldn’t be friends if I did.”

He scoffed at your words, but tightened his arms around you with a smile. He couldn’t have felt prouder in that moment, especially with Younghyun being dragged by Wonpil out of the room [to head out and fetch groceries?] who was delightedly babbling about how soft his best friend felt to cuddle with for real this time. Sungjin meanwhile rolled his eyes at the exchange, padding away and back to the kitchen.

“Ok this means I can ask what made you work it out.”

You sputtered, though immediately gave in. “The confession chamber on the closet.”

“Ahh that was a good one,” he sighed happily, only to change tact soon after as the realisation sunk in, “wait that wasn’t even mine!” You laughed against him, you head tipping back as he searched the room for the true culprit. “Dowoon was that yours?”

You didn’t hear an answer, though hearing the curse that fell from Jae’s mouth offered enough indication to know that the response was in some shape or form affirmative.

Laughter bubbling away into the air, you slowly pulled yourself away from the friend that had practically become an older brother to you. He let you go smoothly, but before you parted from him fully, you stood on your toes and whispered, “Thank you,” a smile on your face that was almost as bright as the ones Wonpil always received.

He sent you a grin, followed by a wink, as you followed after your new boyfriend. Leaning so he could see round the corner, he laughed quietly at how you subtly shoved the other man out of the way so you could take Wonpil’s side.

His heart swelled as your hands naturally found each other’s, linking as if you’d been together for years. It came with a side of a dull ache, as that was what he wanted for himself too.

He wasn’t dismayed for long however. You now owed him after all, and you were well aware of it.

He couldn’t wait to see what you’d come up with.

~~~

AN: no one can stop me from referencing my own work lmao

also a blackadder reference for anyone who knows!

also in germany there is actually an H note apparently so... fun fact.

Masterlist

#wonpil x reader fluff #wonpil #wonpil day6 #wonpil fluff #platonic jae x reader #jae & reader #day6 x reader #day6 #wonpil oneshot #wonpil x reader request

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t0ngue-tech · 4 years

Text

Sideline

“There were sparks in your eyes whenever you talked about flowers and how certain ones grow in different seasons. You were a force of nature; fearless, strong, and capable. There were so many things to love about you and Hoseok didn’t know where to start.”

↠ pure a n g s t ↞

word count: 2.9k

↠ oneshot ↞

A/N: happy early birthday to our sunshine, jung hoseok! i know angst may not be the best way to go, but i decided to write something different for him huhu. enjoy my loves!

Yellow. Pink. Hues of orange.

Warmth. The rich taste of hot chocolate on a cold night. Thick blankets. Freshly washed sheets.

There was no color in the world—no feeling that could ever describe the way Hoseok felt being around you. Fireworks were always present and the stars seemed to shine brighter every time you walked outside.

Hoseok was blessed to have known you since middle school. He had been by your side through many horrible haircuts and long nights of complaining about school work.

You weren’t a valedictorian type of student, more like a cum laude student however, you didn’t take the effort to do the work for the honors acknowledgement.

Hoseok was the opposite, so he knew he drove you crazy with the constant nagging of reminding you about certain pieces of homework or constantly going over your book reports. It was probably exhausting for you, but the way you beamed at Hoseok every time you had a high grade meant you still appreciated his efforts.

It was always an adventure being by your side. You loved to drink milkshakes at eleven in the evening; according to you, it tasted better late at night. Hoseok hated the rain, but on the contrary, you were extremely fond of it. You took every chance you had to go running out in the rain and Hoseok never hesitated to follow in suit. He also hated horror movies, pickles, and pizza crust, but because of you, he slowly learned how to tolerate all of those because they were all of your favorites.

You had an alluring luminescence about you that easily reeled people into your circle. You had a big heart; a large soft spot for everyone because you believed that everyone was a good person deep down. Hoseok loved how you smiled at everyone, how you break out into song mid-sentence, and he loved how you smelt like lavender every time you walked by.

There were sparks in your eyes whenever you talked about flowers and how certain ones grow in different seasons. You were a force of nature; fearless, strong, and capable. There were so many things to love about you and Hoseok didn’t know where to start.

Even with all of your beautiful qualities, Hoseok had to admit that there were things about you that he didn’t like.

Throughout the early years of knowing you, Hoseok watched you get your heartbroken over boys who never appreciated you. You’d question every single aspect about you when you were heartbroken and as much as he cared for you, it pissed him off.

You cared deeply for others and this meant you get hurt easily; Hoseok hated that. He hated the way your face looked when you were disappointed. When your eyes would glisten with tears, he could feel his chest cave in. He hated the way you doubt yourself, the sound of your squeaky laugh, and the way you’d hook your arm with his or how you would lean on his shoulders when you were tired. Most of all, he hated the way you say his name.

“Hoseokie!”

“Seokie.”

“Hobi, Hobi!”

“Hoseok..”

The sound of his name coming from your lips was like honey, sweet and rich. His parents, his sister, his friends, they all called on his name on a regular basis but nothing compared to the beautiful tone of your name.

But how can something so beautiful hurt so much?

↠↞

Summer break.

How could Hoseok forget the time you visited during summer break? It was impossible to forget.

Hoseok picked you up at the airport at one in the morning and the first thing you wanted was his mother’s steamed eggs and rice cake soup. By the time you both arrived, she was asleep (obviously), so you took his bed while he slept on the floor. It was a random cold summer night, but you were bundled up in warm blankets and that’s all that mattered to him.

Since summer school was in the works, Hoseok took the liberty to give you a campus tour of his university. He saved the literature wing for last because it was your major and the library on the upper floor would be your sanctuary.

What he didn’t account for was seeing a certain “shorter” friend with raven hair skimming along the tall shelves.

He didn’t want to regret walking up to his friend with you.

“Hey, Yoongi. It’s a rare sight seeing you with your head in the books.”

He didn’t want to regret introducing you to Yoongi.

“This is my friend, y/n. She’s visiting for the summer.”

He didn’t want to hear it.

“Hi Yoongi. It’s nice to meet you.”

And there it was. Honey dripping from your lips at the way Yoongi’s name rolled off your tongue.

Running into Yoongi didn’t happen that one time. Yoongi ran into both you and Hoseok at a cafe near Hoseok’s university, Hoseok introduced you to more of his friends and Yoongi was also there, and you also mentioned to Hoseok that you ran into him at the supermarket.

It’s not like Hoseok had the power to stop you from meeting Yoongi over and over again. He also couldn’t politely ask you to do such a thing because he had no authority over your social circle.

Hoseok had to stand by and watch your friendship with Yoongi slowly bloom into something new. It was torture to watch you laugh and lean against Yoongi’s shoulders when there were get togethers. You would bat your eyelashes, play with the ends of your hair, and you even invested in a new bottle of perfume that smells like toasted marshmallows; now his clothes and blanket smelt a little sweeter. All of these little things you did were a bit reminiscent of your behavior back in high school and he wished he could have forgotten about all of those things.

But how could he forget the late night conversation he had with you on his porch? It sealed the deal.

“Hoseok. I think I really like Yoongi.”

The dimness of the nearby street light shone on your face, revealing a noticeable blush.

“Really? Well, he’s a decent guy.”

The truth.

“He is, isn’t he? I’ve been hanging out with him a lot since I’ve been back. Thank you so much for introducing us by the way.”

“Of course. You two look great together.”

Lies.

Not to be selfish but, Hoseok had hoped he could spend the majority of summer break with you and that maybe within the time you spend with him you could feel something a little more than friendship.

It was a hopeless dream. It always has been.

A week before you left for the new spring semester, Yoongi had officially asked you to be his girlfriend.

It’s not that Hoseok wasn’t happy for you—of course he was happy. Maybe it was just his childish side getting to him; being a bit jealous and shit. He was in love with you for years, how else was he supposed to feel?

He was used to being in this position anyway.

All that was left was for you to send him a text or call him one day with an empty tone of voice explaining that long distance wasn’t working out anymore.

Hoseok got no such notification.

Instead, he received texts and calls from you gushing about how things were sailing smoothly with Yoongi and how he made the trip to visit you during spring break and on a random weekend. Yoongi was putting in a lot of effort for you and Hoseok was genuinely happy that there was a guy out there who was treating you like a queen.

It wasn’t long before he heard the painful words he didn’t want to hear.

“I’m so in love with him, Hoseok.”

Love.

In love with Yoongi.

You loved your exes in the past and broke up, so there had to be some “hope” for him, right?

Slowly, texts and calls from you became rare. Sometimes you’d take a few days to reply to a text and a simple how have you been conversation could take an entire week just to say I’ve been doing well, how about you.

Eventually the only way Hoseok could get updates on you was through your social media posts and according to those, you were still in a happy relationship with Yoongi.

This was for the best. It had to be. Hoseok had to let go of his first love at some point, so why was he feeling disappointed?

There was probably no hope left anymore.

↠↞

Years down the road, Hoseok found himself in love. It was a breathtaking, pinch-me-am-I-dreaming kind of love. He never thought he would ever feel this way about someone else, but Chaerin was that someone. She entered his life like a hurricane and Hoseok allowed himself to get swept away.

The sky was always a vibrant shade of blue, flowers were always in bloom, and birds only sang love songs. Oh how he wished he could have felt this a lot sooner in his life, but Chaerin was worth the wait.

Everything was going perfect for Hoseok, until one day he came home after a long day at the office. He opened the door of the apartment he shared with his lovely girlfriend and found her going through that day’s clutter of mail.

“Junkmail, junkmail, home catalog… oh, baby you have something addressed to you. It looks like an invitation? Or maybe a thank you card?”

There was a slight drop in Hoseok’s stomach and he hesitated to move closer to Chaerin because he had a good feeling as to what the contents of the envelope was. He swallowed the lump in his throat and proceeded to open the white fold of the envelope.

There it was.

“Kindly join us for the wedding of y/n and Min Yoongi--y/n? Oh my God, babe isn’t that your friend from high school?”

Chaerin knew who you were, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her anything beyond the basic information. All Hoseok could do was nod slowly and continued to read the invitation to himself. The card was printed with baby pink and gold details and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from your name. He knew you were engaged because of your social media and he paid no mind to it, but because the two of you don’t talk anymore, he didn’t expect to receive an invitation.

This was completely unexpected and it stirred everything inside of him, enticing chaos. He hasn’t seen you in years and his biggest fear was that every single thing he felt for you would come rushing back, ruining the happiness he finally had.

There was a plus one option on the reservation card and because Chaerin had no idea about Hoseok’s past feelings, she continued to encourage him to go to support you on your special day.

“Come on, honey. I’m sure y/n would be delighted to see you. Plus, it’s been a while since we’ve gotten all dressed up.”

Hoseok always imagined shaking hands with his old high school friends on his wedding day, but instead, he was doing it on your wedding day. It wasn’t just your wedding day, you were getting married to someone who wasn’t Hoseok.

Tears brimmed the eyes of guests as both you and Yoongi said your wedding vows; Hoseok’s eyes welled for a different reason.

“They’re beautiful together.” Chaerin whispered.

Hoseok held tightly onto his girlfriend’s hand and prepared for the next two words that were going to slip past your lips.

“I do.”

And that was that.

Now here he was, standing on the outside of the dance floor with his hands in his pockets. Hoseok smiled fondly at Chaerin who had a surprising reunion with a friend from college who was Yoongi’s cousin.

Just like everyday, Chaerin was as gorgeous as ever. No one in the entire room could compare to his girlfriend, but…

“Hoseokie!”

There it was.

Just like that, his entire world crumbled at his feet. After not hearing your voice call for him for what felt like an eternity, Hoseok melted into a puddle but just like how he used to, he sucked in a breath and smiled.

“Hey, congratulations.” Hoseok tried to go for a hand shake, but you hastily ran up to him and pulled him into a tight hug.

“Thank you and thank you so much for coming.” You smiled up at him with your eyes still sparkling even under the dim lights.

Please stop. Please don’t smile at me.

“Hobi, dance with me?”

The agonizing pain in his chest grew worse at the touch of your hand on his forearm. He turned to search for Chaerin who was still speaking with her friend. She met his eyes and gestured her hands in encouragement as if she knew what you asked him.

“Of course.” Hoseok breathed. “I’d love to.”

The next slow dance song played right on cue and all Hoseok could focus on was the way his shaky hands gently held onto your waist and the warmth of your hands sat at the nape of his neck. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from yours, feeling the intensity within his soul.

Time had done you well, you were still so beautiful. Your eyes still glistened the way it used to and it still had the same effect on him. Truly, Yoongi was a lucky guy. Incredibly lucky.

“So, tell me, who’s the lucky girl?”

Hoseok’s breath was caught in his throat for a moment.

“Her name is Chaerin.”

You tiptoed to take a peek over his shoulder. “She’s really beautiful, Hoseok. I’m happy for you.” You then leaned your head against his chest and swayed silently to the music.

Hoseok was sure he wasn’t in love with you anymore, but why was he feeling this way? It wasn’t fair.

“Hey,” you spoke over the music. “I really can’t thank you enough. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you introducing me to Yoongi and these days we don’t even see each other anymore. I’m so sorry.”

Please don’t thank me.

“No need to thank me, y/n and don’t apologize at all. Life got in the way too. I’m happy to see you now.” It hurt to say those words, but this was the closest Hoseok could ever be to you and he had to bear with it.

“Why don’t the four of us get together sometime for a double date?” You had the brightest smile on your face and it made Hoseok’s heartache. Did he have the heart to sit across from you with a ring on your finger and watch the love you have for Yoongi bleed out into his breathing space?

“I would love that.” He was sure his smile didn’t reach his eyes.

Why did it feel like this was the last time he would ever see you?

The song was beginning to fade out and you crept your arms around Hoseok’s neck to pull him into a warm embrace. He shut his eyes breathing in your faint lavender perfume. You were held so close to him that he could feel the slow rhythm of your heartbeat against him. Time had to stop. He wanted it to stop. Why hasn’t it stopped?

“You’ve been a great friend to me all these years, Hoseokie.” You breathed into his ear before releasing him. “I hope you know how much I love you.”

Love? No.

It wasn’t the love he wanted, but he had to accept.

��I love you too, y/n. “

You began to step away from him and Hoseok could feel the grip on your waist loosening. He wanted to hold you longer. He wanted to feel your heartbeat once more, afraid he’d forget what it sounded like when you were near him. He wanted your breath to tickle his skin and to feel the tips of your nails graze steadily against the back of his neck. The desire to be your center of attention even for a few more minutes was strong, but you were slipping at his fingertips.

With just a few more steps, you were at a foot’s distance from Hoseok and you smiled at him, fleeting away to your husband who was standing at the front of the dance floor.

Hoseok backed up, watching you throw your arms around Yoongi and rock side to side. You looked at Yoongi as if he held the entire universe in his eyes and he looked at you with just as much admiration if not more.

Now completely out of the dance floor, Hoseok still couldn’t tear his eyes away from you as you guided Yoongi towards the middle. Even with the music playing, Hoseok could hear the squeak you make every time you let out a hearty laugh. He soaked in the shape of your slim shoulders and the curve of your waist. He caught a glimpse of your perfect side profile as you turned and the twinkle in your eyes wasn’t hard to miss.

The dance floor started to fill up and just like that, Hoseok lost you in the crowd.

Standing on your sideline was where he belonged.

Hoseok was a secondary character in your life, the second lead, and the second lead never gets the main girl in the movies.

There was never room for him in your heart that way.

It was probably written in the stars from the beginning; friends from the start. His friendship with you was written with a pen and the story ended just as it started.

♡ rae jagi

#bangtan boys #bts #j hope #hoseok #j hope fic #j hope scenarios #bts scenarios #bts fic #j hope angst #bts angst #happy birthday hoseok #i love him sm #20200211 #sideline #sunshine #rae writes

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angelkurenai · 5 years

Text

Imagine being Keller’s oldest daughter and meeting detective Loki when he takes up the case of your missing sister. Only for him to make it personal because of you and his newly found feelings for you.

“Do you have children detective?”

The crying woman's words caught his attention, as everything usually would, but that didn't mean he was going to show that all of his focus was there. He was more busy checking on the messages and updates on the case rather than anything else. Maybe he could have sympathised with her but neither was it in him to show emotions, especially on the job, nor could he find himself to understand. Besides, he had seen people cry so many times in situations like this that he couldn't bring himself to react like any other human being would. And it already had him on edge because there were kids involved but he couldn't say that he knew how it really felt. Stopping the typing for a second he did think about it.

He had heard plenty of times from colleagues or his own boss that he should find a girl and settle down, have kids of his own. But how could he ever have any of it, perfect house and wife, with a life like this? And even more, how would a woman ever accept all of the darkness that surrounded and had become one with his soul? After everything he'd witnessed, everything he'd lived in his days, he doubted there even was a soul in his body left. Being loved wasn't something he was familiar with and sometimes he didn't even know if he could find himself capable of loving someone back. And if he was it would take a lot of effort learning to. Too many walls up and all of them for a broken and dark heart like his, who would want that? No woman smart enough would even approach him, let alone want anything more with him. No woman would ever love what he had become.

He blinked twice, fast, before pulling his eyes away from his phone. He turned his head to look at her, expression ever impossible to read “I'm gonna find your daughter.”

He tried to sound as sure as he possibly could but sometimes he knew that he couldn't be and it was obvious. But maybe sometimes it wasn't necessary.

“Mom?” that one voice he had not heard of, soft yet broken - exhausted even, as steps were heard approaching “I heard the door. Is dad...” but the person trailed off as soon as they entered the living room.

The man's eyes moved shot up in your direction, the second they locked with your (y/e/c), instead of relaxing that there was no threat around, his back straightened. He couldn't help but let his eyes widen at the sight before him, for a reason he couldn't pinpoint. His eyes roamed your figure for only a split second before they focused n your face, moving back and forth as he took everything in. Side-effect of the job but at the same time more than just it. Part of him couldn't deny that you were beautiful, possibly the most beautiful one he'd seen in his life, but there was something much more to you that pulled him in.

“Oh” you breathed out, shoulders falling a bit, he didn't know if it was out of disappointment or some sort of relief. Your eyes big and almost wide looked at him with a curiosity and wonder he had not seen before. Perhaps because he had not seen such innocence in a person before, not after dealing with some of the worst people on the face of Earth.

“I'm- I'm sorry.” you blinked several times, clearing your throat. You looked almost bashful, embarrassed he could say even, and he didn't know why. He didn't know anything, in fact, and it only pulled him more in.

“No need.” his voice was low but very much clear. You took a few steps forward and he could swear he had not shot up faster from his seat.

“I thought it was my father, with uh with news. It's (Y/n).” you extended your hand “(Y/n) Dover, the oldest daughter. Nice to meet you.”

His eyebrows pulled into a small frown but other than that he kept his jaw set as always and gave you a small nod and then he hesitated. For the first time in his life he hesitated and he really wasn't used to that, before pushing the thought aside and extending his own hand to shake yours. “Detective Loki. Nice to meet you.”

“I'm assuming you weren't informed entirely about me, were you?” you asked again, find your place next to your mother and placing a hand on her shoulder to reassure her. It was his turn to look surprised this time.

“No” he said after a small pause, blue eyes still studying you curiously “No they didn't. Only that there was another child.”

“Figured as much.” you nodded your head “I wasn't around when it all uh...” you trailed off and he could see the emotional struggle – he always did in general – but the worst of it was the way he could feel his own throat feel so much tighter at your pain. You were trying to be strong, he could see it and he understood it was for your mother's sake, but you were barely holding yourself together. “I couldn't be home because of college, but I am fully caught up. Is there- is there anything new about our case?”

His lips parted but the words got caught in his throat. The moment he took in those glossy eyes of yours it suddenly became impossible for him to say no. But he knew he had to force himself to. Eyes remaining as emotionless as possible, he blinked fast three times now and shook his head “No. No more so than I told your mother.”

“Oh” you only whispered, nodding your head slowly and fuck if he hated that kind of look of disappointment on you. So much he couldn't bear it.

“But we're working on it.” his voice gave out more hope than he thought he had ever given anybody before, speaking up so fast that he surprised himself.

“I understand. I'm sorry if I-” your voice shook as your lower lip trembled and he found his own confidence flutter and his breathing become uneven when he saw you place a hand over your mouth.

“I- I need some water.” it was a hoarse voice, choking on a sob and he soon realized it wasn't you but your mother.

“No, mom.” you breathed out, ready to protest when she got up “I'll go get you a-”

“I can do it. I can do it.” she insisted, pushing your hands off and you were far too weak to insist.

“Mom I-” your hands trembled but you couldn't follow when she left the living room. Bringing a shaky hand up your placed it over your mouth as a painful sob - painful for whom though, you or the detective? - escaped. You shut your eyes tightly, fighting with all your might the tears but one rolled down.

“She was my baby sister.” you choked out, not looking at him but feeling his eyes on you “She- I held her first, right after mom, I was actually the one to hold her in my arms and she- she smiled up at me that beautiful smile and it was so innocent. So pure, she was like an angel. I- I had stopped believing there was even remotely any good left in this world to begin with before she came around.” you shrugged your shoulders numbly and the man couldn't help his eyebrows from pulling into a deep frown.

He found it so hard to believe how a woman like you, with such a light in her eyes and such hope, despite the horrors taking place at the moment, and such purity in her soul could ever – even for some time – lose faith. Compared to what he was use, you shone brighter than the sun in a pitch-black night.

Your knees felt too weak to support your weight, giving away as you let your weight rest against the wall. You didn't see it but his entire body was on alert, his eyes went wide and he took a step forward, ready to catch you but stopped himself before he could. Not just because he saw you could handle yourself but because... when had he ever comforted the relatives of a victim before? Even more so, he realized, he had never gotten anywhere near including physical contact while doing so.

“Whenever I couldn't visit home for the holidays because of work o-or college, she-” a smile was on your lips but it only made his heart twist painfully inside his chest, this wasn't the kind of smile he wanted to see “She said she couldn't wait to grow up enough and come to find me so that I- I didn't have to spend the holidays all alone. We- we were talking on the phone just a couple hours before she went missing a-and I realized that nobody should be alone on thanksgiving so I was ready to-” you didn't have the ability to keep going, the sobs rocking your entire body cut off your words. The tears were impossible to control but even worse, the detective's feelings were impossible to control. And that was scary enough.

Seeing you cry, ready to crumble down, and the detective felt like he never had before. The need to comfort you. The shock of the realization however wasn't strong enough to make him hold his place or even step back.

“Miss Dover...” he started, voice low and hoarse as he took a step closer to you.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Gosh I-” you wiped away your tears hastily “I am really sorry. I know you must be tired of this. It's-it's not your job to comfort me like I'm some baby.” you sniffled, trying to gather yourself but it was so hard because yourbody was still shaking with sobs and whimpers.

He held his breath for a moment, maybe longer when he realized his lungs were hurting, but for the love of everything he couldn't stop himself. He took another step forward and finally brought a hand up and placed it on your shoulder “I know this is hard for you.” he whispered, giving a squeeze.

His mind was screaming at him not to do it. It screamed for him to pull back but then the rest of his body refused to move. It was like every fiber in his body was pulled towards you, like every cell in him wanted to undo this and he couldn't stop it. For a second he thought he could do it but the moment you looked up to meet his big blue eyes, yours red from crying but still so beautiful, he knew there was no pulling back from this... from you.

“But we're not gonna give up and neither should you, ok? Anna will need her big sister when she comes back home. Because I'm gonna bring her back to you.” his eyes not once left yours and your gave him a small weak nod full of hope that he wished he didn't have to say the following words “We uh we may not have any evidence that he did but I'm- I'm not gonna cross him off my list hat easily and-”

“No evidence?” lord how he hated the way your voice cracked and the frown on your face deepened “But- but that means he can't be held in for too long, doesn't it?”

“I uh-” he licked his lips, before stiffly nodding his head and letting his hand fall off your shoulder “We have a 24-hour hold on him but unless your father brings any charges or we can find any then- then he will be set free.”

“Of course he will.” you breathed out with a heavy sigh “Of course. And Anna will probably never-”

“Don't.” he said a bit more firmly but you thankfully didn't flinch, only kept your eyes down this time “Don't say that. It's too soon for you to start losing hope. I spent ten hours interrogating him, and if I have to I'm going to spent just as many doing the same, but you- I need you to be strong, take care of your mother and younger brother and...” his voice lost some of its confidence, fluttering a bit “You. I want you to take of yourself too.”

“I try to but it's just so fucking hard sometimes.” you choked out.

“Well, you should and I know that you can. There is... there is a chance-” he stopped himself when your eyes jumped up and met his, full of so much hope again that it made him hold his breath. His eyes held your gaze for a few more unnecessarily necessary seconds before he added with as much confidence as he could “I'm not going to rest until I find her, until I find both of them. I give you my word, you will get your sister back.”

The way the corners of your lips pulled into a smile, barely visible but he noticed because hell if it was the most beautiful thing he'd seen as he thought to himself, and you gave him a softer nod. You whispered in a low voice, full of sincerity “I know you will. Dad told me you're the best and... And I believe you. I believe in you.” and there it was, there was that innocence and blind faith that in all of his career he for the first time really got to see in someone. It made his chest feel heavier. He wanted to look away, wished so bad he could but he knew that even by these few minutes, your face would haunt him whenever and if he ever got to sleep during this case anyway... and, he feared, even after it was over.

“So thank you for everything.” you murmured softly, a new light of hope in your eyes.

He kept his lips pressed in a thin line before he shook his head “You don't have to. It's my job.”

But he knew right then and there, in that moment, as he looked at you that he wasn't going to consider this case with any sort of professionalism.

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