#based on in game voice lines alone I am ROLLING shes A BAD person! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

13uswntimagines · 3 years

Text

Just In Case (Emily x Reader)

Request: Emily x reader where the reader is deployed in to the military and got permission to video call Emily while she is at camp and something happens to the base while on the call and it ends the call with no goodbye and then like the team seeing news articles and trying to get in contact with reader but they can’t and Emily eventually gets notified that’s she’s in the hospital

There was nothing quite like waiting for the little green dot to appear next to your Skype name. The way excitement mixed with anxiety and impatience. How your wife never knew exactly what state you would be in, only that you would greet her with a wide (probably exhausted) smile.

It was rare that Emily actually got to call you while you were deployed. You were the assigned medic to a forward operating special ops unit, meaning you spent more time in the middle of nowhere doing dangerous missions than you did on base. She was excited she’d get to see your smiling face after almost a month (a year since she’d actually seen you in person).

She jumped when the little dot appeared on the screen (much to Lindsey and Kelley’s enjoyment) and clicked on your little icon.

The screen blinked, and your wide smile greeted her. “Hey darling, how’s champ camp?” Your little southern twang came through the computer.

Emily mirrored your smile (your accent always made her swoon just a little), Turning the camera so you could see your two best friends also waving at you. “Super fun. Me and Linds beat Kelley during the scrimmage,”

You smirked at your wife, shaking your head. You knew how competitive they all were (it had led to some very fun game nights at your house- especially with your wife who adamantly refused to be competitive off the pitch). “Bet the squirrel loved that,”

Emily shrugged. “She’s not taking it so well,”

She again pointed the camera towards your pouting sister. You cracked a smile at the woman.

“I’ll get her next time, don’t worry,” Kelley winked at the screen.

You looked off to the side for a second, nodding to whoever was talking to you behind your computer.

Emily wasn’t upset, hell she was more than used to the two of you never really being alone (you were the team leader after all). Instead, she took the opportunity to take in your features. Every new wrinkle of your forehead or dark circle under your eye (that looked more like a bruise or black eye at this point). Was that a new scar you kept rubbing under your chin?

Emily shook her head. She didn’t even want to think about how you got that until you were back safe in her arms. Your job was dangerous, she didn’t need any reminders.

“How are you holding up?” She asked, drawing your attention back towards her. It was a safe question, one she knew she could ask over a live feed. One that didn’t cross any “clearance” lines you had warned her about (though she was sure that your superiors knew you told her many stories deemed classified over the years in the safety of your bedroom).

You shrugged, your crooked smile not quite meeting your eyes. “I’m alright. Super tired. We just got to base a little while ago,”

Your vague answer didn’t surprise her. You didn’t like to worry her, and half of your missions were pretty secretive anyway. It was one thing to share your darkest stories, the things you had seen that you couldn’t un-see, while the two of you were pressed together, and another to try and explain from a million miles away.

Your wife knew how your job weighed on you.

“But you’re ok?” She pressed, unwilling to let you deflect the question. She needed to know. You ran a hand through your tousled hair (one of your biggest tells), leaning forward just a bit. “Just some bruises. Promise.” You paused, leaning forward, your fake playful smile reappearing with a wiggle of your eyebrows, “What about you? Kelley’s a beast on the field,”

Emily cracked a smile, despite her worry. “I’m good babe, but Lindsey’s got a nice one,”

“Ooo let me see,” you said, leaning closer to the screen like a little kid. Emily turned the computer so you could harass Lindsey instead of her.

“No,” the midfielder pouted, crossing her arms.

“Come on, I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” You wined dramatically as Emily turned the computer around and Kelley butted into the frame.

“That sounds like some teenage boy-...” She started, only to be cut off by a loud crash and the blaring of an alarm.

“Fuck,” you hissed, looking off-screen, as more yelling started, and the screen shook.

“Babe-“ Emily said, and you glanced back at the screen as if suddenly realizing your wife was still there.

“I love you Em. I’m sorry I gotta go,” you said quickly, looking directly in the camera.

Then the call ended. The screen went blank and the three women sat frozen. Emily very slowly placed her hand over where your face had been mere seconds ago. “Love you too, be safe,”

The “please,” was softer, almost breathless. And the sound broke Kelley and Lindsey’s hearts. All they could do was hope you would be alright.

****

Emily had learned to not read the news reports a long, long time ago, on your first deployment (back when the two of you had only been dating for six months).

As it turned out, most of the time they had no real information about what was going on. They just reported on the overarching bad thing that was happening, or whatever appeared to be happening, and tended to ignore the boots on the ground (your words not Emily’s).

But still, she couldn’t help but stare at the articles rolling in about an attack on one of the bases near where she knew you were stationed. Especially after the abrupt end to your semi-distracted phone call.

“Em, reading it repeatedly isn’t going to change the words,” Kelley said softly, prying the phone from her grasp and sticking it on the chair beside her.

Emily sighed heavily. “It’s just hard,” she mumbled, scrubbing a hand over her eyes.

Lindsey, Kelley, and the rest of the table nodded understandingly. They may not have the same relationship with you that Emily did, but they loved you all the same.

It was terrifying to not know where you were, or if you were alright, but they had to be strong for Emily right now.

“She didn’t answer your text yet?” Lindsey asked, reaching across the table to grasp Emily’s hand tightly. You might not be able to call, but texting was usually a good way to get a hold of you.

Emily bit her lip, shaking her head tightly. “Nah uh,”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. It wasn’t uncommon for you to go radio silent, especially when you were on a mission, but it had been 4 days since your phone call and You always sent her a little a-ok when you were finished with whatever you were doing. She was starting to get worried.

“What about Kara, she’s always with her,” Kelley asked gently, rubbing her back, mentioning your best friend.

The two of you were practically attached at the hip, but as you always said, experience in a war zone will do that go people. Kara was your right-hand man and always answered Emily, especially when you weren’t.

“She hasn’t answered either,” Emily mumbled, shaking her head. The women at the table all shared a look. The last time Kara hadn’t responded while the two of you were away, you had been stuck doing emergency surgery on one of your guys in the field after an IED blew up one of the hummers in your convoy.

“I’m sure they’re just busy. You know the news likes to make a big deal out of nothing. They always do,” Lindsey said reassuringly.

“Yeah, and no news is good news right?” Kelley added, with a half-smile.

A dark look crossed Emily’s features. She knew (and feared) what happened when things went wrong. She dreaded that phone call or god forbid an officer showing up with your “just in case” letter (one she knew you always carried with you, but she had never physically seen).

“Only until it isn’t,” she said softly, her voice deadly serious. The women at the table sobered and nodded, equally as somber. It was a terrifying truth that was easier to ignore than confront.

“I’m sure she’s just busy being a hero,” Lindsey said softly, leaning over to grab Emily’s hand tightly, as Kelley squeezed the woman comfortingly.

“I hope you’re right,” Emily sighed.

“She promised Em, and she never breaks her promises,” Kelley said, equally as serious, trying to hide just how worried she was. You swore you’d always come back to them, and she would kick your ass if you didn’t.

*****

It felt like Emily’s heart was going to beat out of her chest. It was hammering harder than it ever had, even after a full ninety. She tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for the receptionist to find your room and clear her with the MP’s apparently stationed outside your room.

The second she got the 3 am call, it had been a mad dash to get here. The drive from Orlando to the hospital at the Jacksonville Air Force base was a blur, but she was pretty sure Kelley had broken just about every speed law there was to get her here faster (and to get herself here too, she was your sister after all).

“I’m her wife. I have permission to see her,” Emily growled at the poor receptionist, who continued to rapidly type on her computer.

“I’m sorry miss, but due to the circumstances I have to check,” She clicked her tongue, leaning forward to get a better look at the screen, apparently oblivious to Emily’s growing rage.

Kelley placed a careful hand on Emily’s arm, trying to quell the brewing storm before the receptionist took the brunt of it.

“Fuck the circumstances. Let me see my wife,” Emily hissed, completely ignoring Kelley’s “calm down Sonnett,” (your older sister was worried too, but flipping out at a receptionist wasn’t going to help their cause).

“I’m trying ma’am. We have protocols too, especially after a Rescue and Evacuation,” the woman behind the counter sighed, more frustrated than sympathetic. Emily’s eyes widened. Kara hadn’t said anything about a rescue mission over the phone, only that you were hurt and being transferred to Florida from a hospital in London.

“A what?!!” Emily screeched, and Kelley grabbed the back of her hoodie to prevent her from launching herself over the counter at the frightened-looking receptionist.

Before the woman behind the counter could respond, your very tired-looking best friend appeared around the corner.

“Hey, Em. She’s back this way,” Kara smiled tightly at your wife, nodding towards the receptionist and gesturing down a hallway to her left.

“Oh thank god,” Kelley sighed, practically shoving Emily into Kara’s arms. Kara caught her, and held her hand out to your older sister, carefully beginning to guide them down the maze of hallways.

“I have to warn you, she’s in pretty rough shape,” Kara said softly as they approached the door, her hand pausing on the handle to look both women in the eyes. Emily and Kelley both nodded solemnly, steeling themselves as Kara gently pushed the door open.

“Damn,” Emily and Kelley gasped as they stepped through the threshold and took in your sleeping form.

Your normally strong form looked so small under the mass of tubes and wires surrounding you (but Kelley notes that you were very much breathing on your own). The whole left side of your face was bruised, and the left half of your chest and arm was wrapped tightly in gauze.

Emily very carefully approached the bed, her fingers hovering over your right side, afraid to touch you and cause you more pain.

“Oh baby,” She breathed out, settling into the chair beside your bed, finally grabbing your uninsured hand very gently and pulling it to her lips.

She heard Kelley ask “What happened?”, but her eyes never left your face.

Kara blew out a long breath, seemingly trying to steady herself. “Our base got attacked- retaliation for freeing a village probably,”

Kelley raised her eyebrow at the woman. She wanted to know everything, not the edited version.

Kara swallowed hard before continuing. “We split into teams. One to pull security and one to evacuate the hospital. We lost communication after one of our own went Rogue. In the chaos, an intruder slipped through us and went to attack the hospital wing. Y/n got ambushed trying to get an injured private to the helicopter,”

Silence stretched between them as the soccer stars tried to take in the story. It was so you to do everything in your power to help someone else, even if it was dangerous or detrimental to you.

“How bad is it,” The words left Emily’s mouth barely above a whisper, muffled slightly by your hand still at her lips.

“She got hit 3 times. One was a through and through to the shoulder. It chipped her collar bone, but mostly just got some soft tissue. The other two were worse. The through and through in her leg nicked an artery, and the other one in her chest did some damage. Luckily she was able to drag herself back to the hospital wing and they could get her stable. The PJ’s got her to London and they did emergency surgery,” Kara listed off, rubbing the back of her neck and closing her eyes tightly.

Emily didn’t doubt that seeing you like that was probably one of the most difficult things Kara ever had to do, and she felt bad for making her relive that.

“Is she gonna be alright?” Kelley asked after a few seconds, cracking with emotion.

Kara nodded. “Yeah, Lena looked over the X-rays. Said that she would need a lot of rehab, but she should make a pretty full recovery. Right now she’s just sedated to help with the pain,”

Emily felt her heart unclench at the news, made even sweeter by the mention of Kara’s own wife. Lena was a straight shooter, someone who was brutally honest and equally deft at her job (which was part of the reason the two of you got on so well). She wouldn’t bullshit them and give them false hope.

“Thank you,” Emily croaked. Kara snorted and shook her head.

“Wasn’t me. She promised you she’d make it and she wasn’t about to let you down,”

You had dragged yourself nearly 800 yards to the hospital wing, and the only thing they said you said was that you couldn’t die because you swore to your wife you’d come home. Kara was convinced that you had survived purely on adrenaline and stubbornness (that and dumb luck). At least she hadn’t had to deliver your just in case letter.

Emily smiled softly at your sleeping form, allowing the steady beep of your heart and your warm hand to comfort her “I know,”

It was easy to relax now that you were here safe in her arms. Sure, you would have a long road to recovery (and getting you to actually follow the doctor's orders was bound to be a fight), but you were alive with no imminent threat hanging above your head.

She would be there for you every step of the way.

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #emily sonnett imagine #emily sonnett x reader

352 notes · View notes

pterodactylschreech · 3 years

Text

Entangled

(One-shot based on this post)

Lena looks beautiful tonight.

She's all Kara can think about, despite being surrounded by everyone she loves. Her eyes track back every few seconds no matter where she treks in the apartment or how much her family and friends vie for her attention. It's their first game night post-Phantom Zone and post-The Break, as Kara thinks of it. The first time everyone is back together, smiling and laughing and happy, in over a year. And they all want Kara's attention, her presence the glue for the family after her absence.

But all she can think about is Lena.

Lena sitting close on the couch while they play games. Lena passing her the last pot sticker on her plate without thought. Lena standing in the kitchen refilling her wine glass and mingling with Kelly and Brainy, at home among their friends. Kara focuses on her, intent to memorize every single detail of the other women as if she may never see her again. The crinkles by her piercing eyes when she squints in laughter at one of Nia's corny puns. The play of light on her features accentuating the sharp angle of her jaw and the soft curve of her lips. The gentle, bright look she shares with Kara when she catches her looking, a hard won relief radiating out from the woman after months of fighting one another. Kara could practically taste the joy on the air, surrounded by her little family.

Kara hopes that look means everything that her matching expression means: I love you. I'm home again, and I missed you. Hopes beyond all reason that Lena understands and is sending the same message back.

It's been a week since she returned to find Lena unemployed and living at the Tower out of a hastily packed suitcase. A week since she refused to let Lena remain in the cold and impersonal lair and convinced Lena to unofficially move in with her. She wouldn't admit it, not even to Alex, but one of the reasons Kara insisted so strongly was because she couldn't bear to sleep alone. The memories of her nightmares from her childhood after landing on Earth were enough to drench her in fear of the coming nights, the darkness and isolation that pulled her under the waves of terror. It turned out to be the best decision for both of the women as they both suffered and only found peace and reprieve when sleeping next to one another.

And it's been two days since Kara bared her soul to Alex, finally admitting the depth of her feelings for Lena after her sister told her about the decision they had been forced to make: Kara or National City. Her feelings that lay dormant for years due to her fear but surfaced to crush her under their weight during the year spent away from Lena, that grew like ivy through her heart until they covered every inch of her life. Kara sobbed into Alex's shoulder, for time lost and hope and comfort from her one constant through everything. Alex, for her part, seemed decidedly less surprised by Kara's outburst than she had expected. She let Kara expend her tears, then quietly told her it was time for Kara to choose her own happiness first. To put herself before the world and her past and her decades of fear. To tell Lena and let them be happy, together.

So now, Kara sits on her couch, surrounded by family and basking in the warmth of their love and closeness, nervous and fidgeting while she anxiously replays her prepared speech over and over in her head. For one terrifying moment, the whole situation felt excruciatingly familiar and terror spikes through her. Alex lays a hand on her bouncing knee, a distraction and reassurance that all would end well if Kara just trusted herself and Lena.

The night wore on in pleasant company until the group thinned out, pair by pair. Only Alex and Kelly remain on their way out of the apartment. Alex lingers in the doorway to give Kara an extended hug and whisper encouragement in her ear. "Good luck, Kar. Love you." She and Kelly say their last goodbye to Lena, and Kara quietly closes the door for the evening.

After taking a deep, steadying breath, Kara turns back to find Lena tossing empty take-out boxes into the recycling bin and setting their empty glasses in the sink. With her hair in a haphazard bun, Kara's NCU sweatshirt, and her cheeks pink tinged, Lena leaves Kara breathless in the entryway. The domesticity and familiarity of Lena in her clothes, in her home and cleaning up; in her glasses, forgotten after a particularly spot on impersonation during charades and still perched on the bridge of her nose, have Kara dreaming of their possible future. Of games nights and family dinners and quiet nights in that begin and end with Lena by her side.

Kara's tongue darts out to wet her lips and her hands twist together as she moves closer to Lena who has rinsed the glasses and is drying her hands on one of Kara's novelty printed dish towels. When she turns and spots Kara, hovering nearby but without fully approaching, she watches the simple movements of Kara's hands with rapt attention and smiles the same gentle grin from throughout the night. The corners of her mouth turn down slightly when she notices the focused crinkle between Kara's eyes, the unfailing sign she was deep in thought or struggling to vocalize something she found important.

Kara hardly registers the soft padding of Lena's socked feet across the floor until she reaches up to smooth the offending crinkle away with her fingertips. Kara's eyes drop closed at the gentle press, and she exhales a long held breath, focusing entirely on the point of contact and warmth to ground herself in the moment and chase any final doubts away. "Lena," Kara's voice puffs out into the quiet of their closeness. Lena's hand drifts to brush a stray curl behind Kara's ear before answering, matching her reverent tone. "What is it, darling?" Kara's eyes slide open to take in the gaze fixed on her: Lena promising safety and trust trust with nothing but the vulnerability in her eyes and the press of her hand to Kara's chest, just over where her crest materializes. It's enough to set Kara's heart beating wildly in anticipation.

"I need to tell you something. We promised each other, no more secrets. And there's one more thing I need you to know before we try this again. Our friendship, or you know, us."

Kara can see Lena's response to her words and hesitated. Lena's shoulders immediately tensing and her mouth drawing into a tight line, fighting trembling lips. She places her hand over Lena's on her chest to keep her from pulling away preemptively and to draw the strength she needs for what may come next. "Kara, what-?" "Wait, please. It's not bad, well, I don't think so, it's just, um-" Kara stops to regroup her frantic thoughts.

"Just, um, let me say what I need to say. And, if you don't, you know, feel the same or want anything to change, then none of this will matter."

Lena relaxes minutely, squinting at Kara's phrasing in suspicion and confusion. She lets Kara hold her hand in place. Once she feels Lena's tension release enough to prove she's listening, Kara plunges into her speech.

"Lena, you are my best friend. One of the two most important people to me. When we were fighting," Kara sucks in a deep breath at the lingering pain of their separation. "that was one of the hardest years of my life. All this terrible stuff was happening, and my person, the one I go to when everything feels like its falling apart, was gone. You were gone. I could still hear you and see you, but I couldn't have you. You were gone, and it was all my fault."

Hot tears spill free from Kara's eyes. When Lena reaches up to wipe them away, Kara leans heavily into her warm palm.

"Kara, darling, it's okay. We've forgiven each other. You don't need to apologize again."

A soft laugh escapes Kara's lips before she turns her head to press a kiss to Lena's palm. She speaks into Lena's hand, too nervous to see what Lena's reaction will be to her next words.

"I'm not. I'm just being honest. I lied to you for years. Willfully. Cruelly. Because I was selfish and stupid and scared. Rao, I was so scared to lose you. So, I rationalized lying day after day because I knew you'd leave when I told you. I knew the moment I said the words, it was over. No matter what I did or said, I would lose you."

The apartment was silent but for Kara's sniffles and her overflowing words.

"I did lose you." The whisper carries a year's worth of pain and longing.

"But, me being Supergirl isn't the biggest thing I haven't told you."

Lena's sharp inhale draws a fresh panicked round of tears from Kara who holds tighter to Lena's hand on her chest and forges onward quickly.

"You have to understand why I haven't said anything. It's not that I haven't wanted to; it's all I can think about sometimes. Most days now. But I couldn't. How could I- it would've been-" Kara stops and looks at Lena again, to read the expectation and shock flaring behind her green eyes. "I had to be honest about who I am before I could be honest about how I feel."

Lena joins Kara now with the first of her own tears breaking free to run down her cheeks. Kara can hear the quickening pace of her heart and focuses on the sound.

"Lena, I met you, and my whole world changed. You didn't know me during my first year as Supergirl, didn't see the rage that I could barely control or the reckless way I threw myself at every enemy. I struggled. A lot. But you showed me that we aren't bound by our family's sins. That I could hope and change and-" Kara feels the weight of the word on the tip of her tongue, rolls it around in her head another second and tastes the letters as they spill out for Lena to catch or watch shatter on the ground. "love. I met you, and I realized how deeply and fully I can love. I've lost so much, so many people, and I tend to be very protective of the love I share. But, I've learned that, despite what I've lost, the pain and the loneliness, I can love with my entire self. With all of who I am. With my heart, my body, and my soul. All that I am; all that I've experienced and will experience, everything. I can love through it and find strength in those who love me."

It was now Kara's turn to gently brush the fallen tears from Lena's cheek, one hand still holding firmly to Lena's hand on her chest.

"I've been drawn to you from the first day we met and every day after. I've never been able to fight it. Never wanted to, even when we were on opposites sides. I could never quite see through my love for you. Alex used to find it extremely frustrating, but I think she's finally come around."

Their watery laughs mingle together.

"You asked me once if I knew anything about quantum entanglement. I may know more about it than I admitted. And since that day, I haven't been able to think of you in any other way. I love you, but it isn't just that I love you. I am tethered to you, pulled across the universe to orbit you. The true source of my strength. I am entwined with you on a molecular level and in my soul. My parents sent me here to save me and to protect Kal, but something more, something bigger, maybe Rao himself, brought me to you."

Kara carefully absorbs Lena's body language, her stillness and continued silence. She seems to barely be breathing in the wake of the confession. The only sign Kara has that Lena is still listening is the furious pounding of her heartbeat reverberating through Kara's ears. Normally, even moments ago, the steady rhythm calms Kara, so much that she would take to flying over L-Corp during the past year just to hear the familiar sound. But now it leaves her uncertain and nervous. She fills the empty charged air with rambling, too anxious to wait for Lena to resume her normal functioning.

"I understand you might not feel the same, and after everything, I don't blame you. I mean, I did lie and then call you a villain and treat you pretty bad, so yeah." Kara trails off, cringing at the less than stellar stream of words her mouth chose. "So, um, if you don't want anything to change, then it doesn't have to. It won't. We can keep being friends and having game nights and movie nights. And you can obviously stay here as long as you need. I just, um, needed you to know how I feel."

The tide was open, and Kara couldn't find the ability to lock the flood gates on her mouth. Tears begin a fresh descent in the wake of her expelled anxiety.

"And I feel that I love you. That I am in love with you. I am in love with you, Lena."

Salt brines her lips, and her tongue tastes the clinging mineral as it slides out to wet them. Lena remains stoically still in her position pressed to Kara and swimming in her own trickle of tears. Kara notes the slowing of them, the crystalline droplets that drip from her jaw to the floor. She watches Lena's lips part and the quick flicker of her green eyes over Kara's face, landing first on her own blue eyes, then her nose, her cheeks, the scar above her eyebrow, before settling lower on her trembling lips.

She can't stand the limbo, the electric deja vu and mixture of fear and hope.

"Lena, please say something."

In reflection, Kara knows the moment, the span of seconds between her plead and Lena's reaction, only lasted the length of a heartbeat. But in the beat between her words and Lena's movement, Kara felt the weight of every loss she's suffered, every end. And every beginning. Every beautiful Earth sunrise and blossoming friendship. Anticipation swelled painfully behind her ribcage, her heart preparing to drop or soar.

In that moment, Lena held more power over Kara than any amount of Kryptonite ever could. With one second she could either crush Kara beneath one more disappointment and loss, or she could fuel Kara more powerfully than the yellow sun.

Kara's throat tenses with choking tears as she opens her mouth to withdraw every word to ever steal its way past her lips, but Lena blocks any hasty retreat half-formed with her own lips pressing firmly against Kara's. She pushes forward, bumping their noses and pressing her body impossibly closer, their hands still trapped between the mingling beats of their hearts.

Locked and entwined. Entangled over an invisible crest.

When her lips meet Kara's, soft but sure and insistent, Kara's mind blissfully silences but for the rapid fire pleasure of feeling and Lena. The burning desire in her chest spreading through her limbs and begging for more. More skin, more lips, more pressure. More Lena. All around her, flooding her senses until there's nothing left but the two of them.

It's everything and more than she imagined. Her nose fills with nothing but the sweet perfume Lena wears daily, and the lavender undertones of her own conditioner in Lena's hair. For once, the world quiets in Kara's hypersensitive ears, condensed to the sighs escaping Lena's mouth as she leans further into their kiss. And it's the taste that leaves Kara dazed and desperate for the next kiss. The fruity wine clinging to Lena's tongue and the underlying taste that is distinctly Lena. Unlike anything Kara has ever tasted and addictive from the first touch of Lena's tongue to her own.

They remain in their embrace, erasing any space that crept between them during their fighting and time apart. Even after breaking for air and resting their foreheads together, reveling in one another, they stay close. Kara can't fight the broad smile stretching across her face, and she hears Lena's matching grin in her words, reverently whispered in their shared breaths.

"And I love you, Kara. All of you. Always."

AO3 link

#supergirl #supercorp #supercorp fic #kara danvers #lena luthor

50 notes · View notes

jamilelucato · 4 years

Text

Seventeen [D. M.]

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader

Summary: Based on the song Seventeen, from the musical Heathers; y/N and Draco have a conversation at the Malfoy Manor during the war that can change everything. But will it?

Hogwarts Masterlist || Musical Hogwarts Masterlist

A/N: So this is one of the fics from my personal project of making hp fanfics from musicals songs and this is the first one! It’s a bit angst, but I love the song and I think it fits perfectly with Draco and y/N. Hope you guys enjoy it and stay tuned for more fics like this!

Words: 1.743

“Fine!” you shouted, locking the door behind you, keeping both you and Draco inside. He wasn’t angry at you, but the amount of strength you used to close the door scared him a bit. You were the last person he expected to throw a fit.

It was the third week in a roll that you got locked up in the Malfoy Manor, and, although huge, the place was getting on your nerves. Draco was actually saving your life, but you were getting uptight.

Since you were a Slytherin and Draco’s girlfriend, he found it’d be easier to hide you at plain sight. At first, you were sceptical, but there was no other option. You came to the Manor and started pretending to be from a forgotten line of Purebloods.

The fact was you were a half-blood, daughter of a wizard and a muggle woman. There was a big chance Voldemort and the others wanted your head, but maybe they could spare you. There are, after all, a lot of mudbloods, completely mudbloods, yet to be hunted. Somehow, though, the idea didn’t make it easier.

“We’re damaged, really damaged,” you sighed, staring at Draco’s eyes. He was sitting on the bed that had been his and yours since the begging of your stay. He didn’t want you sleeping in a room where he would have no idea of what happened — you could receive “unwanted” visitors and get killed. “But that does not make us wise!”

For you to have a room for yourselves, two things had to happen, and they were both requested by Voldermort.

First: get engaged. That was more demanded from Lucius and Narcissa then Voldemort, but he agreed, so. That was also not trouble: that same night Draco gave you a ring. Apparently, he was going to do it — he just didn’t think he’d have to do it in the presence of almost fifty death-eaters.

Second: get the dark mark. That terrified your guts, so you hadn’t get it yet. Draco was stalling the death-eaters, especially Bellatrix, who at every opportunity asked if you were ready. He’d invented something about you being allergic to brands, but it wouldn’t do much more.

“We’re not special — we’re not ‘different’” Draco was surprisingly quiet. He was deep down just like you; he didn’t want to be doing those things as well. “We don’t choose who lives or dies!”

You sighed again. Your fight wasn’t against Draco.

“Let’s be normal; see bad movies, sneak a beer. Bake brownies or go bowling,” you avoided his pity eyes. “Don’t you want a life with me?”

You sat down next to him. “Can’t we be seventeen?” ha, that was rather funny. Be seventeen! You two should be at school, you two should be laughing around the corridors of Hogwarts, he should be playing Quidditch, and you should be having girls night at your dorm room. But now that was all gone, like a distant memory.

Draco was never your best friend, but he was someone nice to have around. He would never admit it, but he was a good student with perfect grades; because of that, more times than often, you requested his help to study. So, when on the sixth year he stopped helping you out, you noticed he was different. Darker.

It was on that year that you realize you had feelings for him. You two came to some sort of agreement around that: both were in love with each other.

It’d be beautiful if it wasn’t so tragic: Draco was already depressed because of his mark and his duty to Voldemort. You couldn’t fight against him, and you couldn’t betray him — the only choice was to stay hidden until you couldn’t anymore, and he had welcomed you into the Manor.

How nice was that? Teenage love and, now, an engagement where the involved haven’t kissed each other yet?

“If you could let me in, I could be good with you,” your voice was barely a whisper, but somehow he heard.

His hand reached for yours, and you looked down at the simple touch. “People hurt us,” you pointed out, taking a great look at his mark, forever on his arm.

“Or they vanish,” he added, reminding you of your mom and dad who had disappeared. It wasn’t their fault — you asked them to vanish — but you still missed them every day.

“And you’re right, that really blows. But we let go—”

“Take a deep breath,” his words seemed to reach every part of your brain and tranquillize you along the way. You hoped your voice had the same effect for him.

“We’ll go camping,” you suggested with a faded smile, trying to make the situation more fun. It didn’t need to happen right now, but maybe one day, yes.

“Play some Gobstones,” he sighed, starting to play your game.

“And we’ll eat some flavour beans,” you looked up in an attempt to meet his gaze. “Maybe prom night.”

“Maybe dancing,” he finally stared back at you.

“Don’t stop looking in my eyes,” you smiled, taking your hands out of his and holding his face, making him keep his gaze on you.

“Your eyes...” he repeated your words, a sign that he was lost in thoughts you could only imagine. Lucius didn’t trust you completely so many times he needed to ask things from Draco, he asked him alone. You had no idea what he and Voldemort were planning from Draco, but something was coming, especially after he failed at killing Dumbledore.

“Can’t we be seventeen? Is that so hard to do?” he tilted his head like he was melting at your touch. “If you could let me in, I could be good with you.”

“Let us be seventeen if we still got the right,” Draco said. His hand that was before laying on your lap lost without your hand traced a path around your body so it could meet your face just like you were doing.

“I wanna be with you,” you said, informing him as if for the first time. Those words expressed more than staying at the Malfoy Manor — they meant you wanted him, you wanted to be his for real.

“I wanna be with you,” he replied. Before the first tear fell from your eyes, his lips touched you for the very first time.

He had kissed your hand before and even your forehead on a cold night. Your heart had stopped both of those times, but nothing like now. It was a new experience; kissing Draco couldn’t be compared to anything you two had done before.

Your hands, once holding his chin, were now wandering his silver locks and finding pleasure with the texture. His hand that was on your face pulled you even closer and the other one once free was now wandering your body with the same eager as you.

“Yeah, we’re damaged,” you muttered when his lips reached for your neck — experience in a whole other level.

“Badly damaged,” he whispered back.

“But...” you tried to continue, but his lips met yours once again, shutting you up.

“Your love’s too good to lose,” he added, pushing you back a little just so you could see his eyes and know that he meant it.

Draco wanted you. He wanted all of you. Not just for the night, but for the next, and the other, and the next after that. He knew he loved you for a while, but with the war happening, things got a little foggy. His priorities were mixed.

His father had just some minutes ago told him that he knew you were a half-blood. Lucius told Draco that you wouldn’t be killed for that, but since it meant your father was married to a witch, they’d hunt down at least the two.

“They will be killed, son, don’t get me wrong,” said Lucius in a warning tone. “The problem is they’ll probably want her to do it.”

So, yeah, Draco was mad when he got in the room he was sharing with you. He was enraged to the maximum. It was something having Voldemort forcing him to do things — it was a complete and unacceptable other thing him wanting you to do things.

You are perfect; you are his light. He wouldn’t bare seeing you going dark.

So, while he was snogging you — and don’t get me wrong, he was loving it, he was over the moon about that part —, he was planning a way to escape the Manor. It wouldn’t be easy, but it wasn’t impossible. He would need his mom, but he was sure she’d help.

You and Draco ended up in the bed, naked. You guessed all that angst and the war could not stop the teen hormones. Not that you were complaining — Draco was great at it. He was gentle but firm, a combination that surprised you.

You were not very sure of what to do, but Draco was patient.

“Tonight is not about me.”

“That will be a first,” you said, trying to defuse the tension.

He smirked at you in that way that only he knew how. It made you jealous, you really wished you could smile like that.

“I’ve got a plan,” he said when you were laying on his chest. His voice was barely a whisper. “Tonight, we’ll run away. I’ll ask mom, she’ll know how to help, and some house-elves can stock food in a bag...”

“Draco?”

“Yeah?” you looked up at him.

“You’re really going to run away with me? You know you don’t have to, right?” you didn’t know how to proceed. “I mean, you are safe here. ”

“If I am what you choose,” he said with a soft voice, “then I’ll do what’s needed to see you protected.”

You kissed him again, and again, unable to stop. It could have been a happy memory if it wasn’t for the background.

A knock on the door froze you two. Draco was faster, he got up and inside his pants. He was at the door when he turned back to face you, and you nodded for him to open.

Narcissa head popped in, but she was so anxious she didn’t even take a good look around.

“Draco, we need you downstairs. I think we’ve got him!”

“Who?”

You crawled the bed, leaning towards the door.

“I think we’ve got Potter.”

#Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x slytherin reader #draco #hogwarts #wizarding world #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy x y/n #hp #hp fanfic #malfoy manor #harry potter and the deathly hollows

163 notes · View notes

roberttchase · 3 years

Text

A tiny 2k fic based on @farfarawaygirl‘s post talking about wanting Matt to hallucinate/dream a future with Sylvie in the upcoming episode. Enjoy my friends!

“Do we really need to get up?” Sylvie’s voice is soft and sleepy, and it makes Matt’s stomach flip, makes him feel warm and safe. Stretching a little, only to bring his girlfriend closer, the firefighter nods, burying his face into the crook of her neck, breathing in slowly. “Can’t we just...not show up?”

A fond noise rises up from his throat, and the Captain laughs a little, bringing the covers up tighter around them. It’s cold and rainy outside, clouds hanging low, the sky dark. The perfect day for staying inside and not going to shift.

“As much as I want to, you know Boden wouldn’t be happy. His PIC and his Captain not showing up? The house would burn to the ground,” he jokes. “Okay maybe not literally, since we’re all firefighters, but…” he trails off, nose scrunching up at his lame joke. Sylvie presses a kiss to his lips, slow and sweet.

“Sometimes it’s annoying that you’re so responsible and dependable, Matt Casey,” the paramedic huffs. “But I love you for it. Everyone does,” she adds, making Matt blush, never one to accept praise and compliments well. But coming from his girlfriend, it makes him feel warm.

They get up reluctantly, knowing that their jobs are; whether they want to admit it or not, important and can’t be frivolously pushed to the side. Their routine is seamless, something they’ve been doing for months now- Matt works on smoothies while Sylvie gets ready, then Sylvie feeds their little black cat while he goes to do the same. It’s effortless and makes him smile every time they put it into practice. As he finishes pouring Sylvie’s blueberry smoothie into her usual to go tumbler, his own mango one already sitting on the counter, the woman comes out in a soft sweater, setting her bag down near the door.

“Otis said he has some big news he wants to share today,” she says as she presses a kiss to Matt’s cheek, taking her smoothie happily.

The words catch him off guard, enough to make him freeze, before remembering that Otis dying was just a nightmare of his. He’d woken up three nights ago sweating and frantic, tears burning behind his eyes as Sylvie had assured him Otis was fine, he was probably up playing fortnight or some other video game even at three am.

“Oh? Knowing him it’s probably some convention coming to town he wants us all to go to,” the Captain snorts. Making his way back to the bedroom, Matt slips on his favorite henley and dark jeans, attempting to fix his hair that’s growing longer now that it’s cold. After he brushes his teeth and looks himself over, the man grabs his bag and makes his way back to his girlfriend. A sharp pain shoots through his head but it’s gone as quickly as it’s come, and Matt brushes it off. As the lemon wallpaper comes into view; the same as the one from Sylvie’s old apartment, Matt looks at her.

“Ready?”

The ride to the firehouse is filled with old N’SYNC and Backstreet Boys, and Matt grins the whole time as Sylvie sings completely engrossed into the music. He’s not sure how he got so lucky to get her to date him. The way she says ‘I love you’ sticks in him every time and makes him feel more confident of himself. Pulling up to the large brick building, the couple gets out with their bags slung on their shoulders, hold hands, and walk in.

The morning starts even before briefing, alarm blaring out for all companies to help with a large fire at a hotel downtown. As they pull up, Matt notices the smoke billowing up from the top of the building, not black, but it’s on its way to it. Hopping out, Matt looks at his team; Otis, Kidd, Gallo and Mouch, then gives a wry smile.

“Hope you're awake guys, this one looks big.”

They meet up with squad, engine and ambo, and Matt goes to find the person in charge- a small woman who looks only slightly panicked, more shell shocked than anything. He hears a few of 51 directing people in and out of the building.

“We’re going to need blueprints of the hotel. Any idea where the fire is?”

From there it’s a rescue mission. Get everyone out as quickly as possible. Locate the fire and get it under control. On level thirteen, they run into an issue.

“Chief, floor thirteen is rolling, we’re going to need backup to get everyone out,” Matt radio’s. “Might need to call in some more ambo relief,” he adds.

“Copy that Casey. Sending in engine, and calling it in.”

Two hours of intense heat, getting bodies out, and going through recovery, and finally everyone’s back at the house, already beat from the roughness of the call.

“What a morning, huh?” Herrmann sighs, rubbing his face as he sits on the couch. Ritter and Gallo are working on breakfast, when Matt looks around and then blinks.

“Scratch breakfast, I’m too hungry for eggs and bacon. How about we order pizza from Benny’s?”

Everyone perks up, and Matt’s aware it’s due to the rarity of him suggesting something like this. He’s one to always stick to house made food, not big on ordering things in. It seems like everyone could use the pick me up though. Fishing his wallet out from one of his pockets, the blonde grabs his card and hands it to Gallo. “Order some pizza,” he smiles.

“You got it Captain.”

Kidd looks at him with her eyebrows raised.

“What?”

“Nothin’ Captain, you just seem in a good mood today is all,” the firefighter shrugs with a smile, making Mouch chuckle.

“Casey in this good of a mood means something happened.”

Furrowing his brow, Matt crosses his arm and lets out a huff. “I can’t just want to do something nice? It was a rough call.”

“Leave him alone guys, he’s happy. Don’t ruin it,” Sylvie walks over from where she’s been sitting with Mackey, putting a hand on his shoulder. Another jolt of pain stabs into his temple, but barely lingers. He squeezes her arm.

“I’m going to do paperwork, come find me when the pizza’s here?”

“Copy that.”

The rest of the day is, for once, blissfully easy, so far. There’s no bad calls for anyone, all mild and fairly quick. The consumption of pizza is interrupted by a small grease fire in a kitchen, but they’re all back within the hour, spirits high.

“I don’t wanna jinx anything, but today is going pretty well,” Cruz says as he takes a bite of pizza.

“Cruz! Shut up!” Severide calls out, rolling his eyes. Matt shakes his head. Leave it to Cruz to say it outloud. They all hold their breath, but no alarm sounds. Hallelujah. Sylvie sits next to him as they all enjoy the rest of their pizza, her hand on his knee, under the table and discreet.

As he works on paperwork in his quarters, the paramedic walks in, sitting on his bunk. “Come sit with me, you can finish paperwork in a minute,” her voice sounds tired, just having gotten back from a run. The tone makes him look over, and he can tell instantly. It was a bad one. Moving as quickly as he can, he sits next to her, one hand cupping her cheek, thumb brushing against her soft skin. His head gives an angry throb. He ignores it. Sylvie’s upset.

“What happened?”

“Gunshot wound to the chest...a seven year old,” her voice is thin, wavering as tears start rolling down her cheeks. “I k-kept try to get him to wake up.” He wraps his arms around her tightly, kissing her hair. His head won’t stop throbbing now. He swallows against it.

“Sylvie...you did all you could. I know you did,” Matt tries to reassure her, though he knows it’s probably not helping much. She looks up at him, heartbreak written all over her face. “He w-wouldnt...he was lying there motionless...I needed him to wake up Matt...I c-can’t…”

Looking down at the petite blonde, his head feels suddenly like it’s being cracked in two. The pained gasp that leaves his lips is unstoppable, and he screws his eyes shut tightly. He can feel Sylvie shift. His body is rigid, his skull feels like someone’s hit it with a hammer.

“Matt? What’s going on? Matt…”

He’s falling. Eyes still shut, Matt feels nausea well up inside him. The pain is all consuming. He struggles to open his eyes, and when he does, he’s in a completely different room. He’s disoriented, can’t quite get a hold of what’s real and what’s not. Is he dreaming? The pain in his head is angry and out for vengeance. The room is….is…. Matt’s mind feels like it’s grasping for straws, like words are right out of reach. His eyes move around. He feels hazy and sick. The beeping that’s coming from...somewhere, is hurting his head. His eyes shut.

Sluggishly, he blinks again, and a man with jet black hair is in front of him. “Matt, are you with me?,” the man asks, dressed in dark red scrubs. There’s a name embroidered on his shirt but it’s fuzzy. A pretty woman with curly hair is standing next to him. Choi, April, his mind supplies. He’s in the hospital. He can’t remember why. Can’t remember anything before then night prior, sitting in Molly’s with Severide.

Head throbbing, Matt licks his lips, nodding minutely. “Mm...y-yeah…” the word dies out. “Wh-What…” The Captain’s exhausted, and his eyes slip closed again, unable to stay open.

“Matt, I need you to stay awake, can you open your eyes?”

He tries, but it’s no use. It hurts. Everything hurts.

“Matt, can you tell me your full name?”

Struggling, the blonde opens his eyes again. “Matt...Matt Casey.”

“Good, good. And can you tell me what hurts?”

“Head...s’gonna explode…”

“Okay, we’ll get you medicine for that.” Choi turns to April, nodding as she walks out. “And can you tell me what the last thing you remember is?”

It takes a moment. He remembers Severide, and then...then….a car. A man driving and he was holding on...then...pain. Excruciating pain, ringing in his ears. Getting back to the firehouse, promising he was okay. Sylvie.

“L-Locker room with Sylvie...I was dizzy.” His words sound slow even to himself. Matt swallows and brings a shaky hand to his face. A painful tug on the back of it notifies him he’s got a line in.

Choi nods, writing something down. “You’re doing great. We’re going to get you in for a CT scan right away, but the fact you remember somewhat is good. How’s the pain? 1 to 10?”

“10,” Matt grits out, becoming more and more aware of the sharp pains encompassing his head. April’s at his side seconds later.

“I’m giving you some morphine, I’m doing it slowly. You should feel it in about ten seconds okay? You’ll feel warm and fuzzy, that’s normal.” He wants to tell her he’s already fuzzy, but instead he nods. Just as she’s said, he does feel almost instantly warm, and then it’s like he’s floating. His mind drifts back to Sylvie. They were dating. They were together. But no, that’s not right. Grainger.

“Is…can...wh-where’s Sylvie..” Matt’s certain she brought him in, she was the last person he can recall seeing.

“I think she’s out in the waiting area, breaking covid protocol,” April says with a small smile.

“I’ll get her for you, but only for a few minutes, once we get the CT room we’re taking you,” Choi adds.

They both leave and Matt’s left to his floaty thoughts. He wants to kiss Sylvie again, wants to hold her hand and call her sweetheart. He remembers, now, her telling him he was still in love with Gabby. That’s not true. It hasn’t been for over a year, more than that really. He needs her. He doesn’t want to see her with Grainger, he wants to be the one to let her know how special and loved she is. He loves her. The curtain slides, and Matt sees Sylvie walk in. Her eyes are puffy and red, and he can see wetness clinging to her cheeks telling him she’s been crying. He doesn’t want her to cry.

“Sylvie.”

The paramedics face crumples, and as she gets closer she scrubs at her eyes and face. “M-Matt.” It’s choked and distraught, and Matt slowly, lazily holds out the hand closest to her.

Sitting in the plastic chair, Sylvie brings it as close to the hospital bed as she can and grabs his hand hesitantly. He wishes he could hug her, comfort her more than with just a hand hold.

“Sorry to interrupt, but we need to take him for the CT scan,” April walks back in, looking apologetic.

“Please don’t leave,” Matt slurs, and Sylvie lets out a choked laugh.

“I’m not going anywhere Matt Casey, I promise.”

When he’s not in the hospital, he’s going to fight for her. Grainger be damned, Matt’s going to somehow prove to her he’s not in love with Gabby anymore, and that Sylvie isn’t a consolation prize. She does deserve to be with someone who puts her first. And that someone is going to be him.

#my fic #brettsey #chicago fire #matt casey #sylvie brett

34 notes · View notes

atinybitofau · 4 years

Text

[ateez] H O N G J O O N G ➩ the reason why

“A DARE”

—a series involving every day objects that either force you two together or force you two apart.

• “Truth.”

• the boys glance around the room,

• analyzed the emotions and the weary.

• no one seemed peeved.

• so they dared themselves to ask the question of, “Okay, y/n. Do you like Hongjoong?”

• you analyze the atmosphere.

• read the room to make sure no one was hostile.

• to reply the honest veracity, “Yes. Yes I do.”

• Hongjoong bites the insides of his cheek,

• yours flaming in peril.

• so it’s gonna be like that huh?

• “Okay, Joong.” you smirk eyes casted upon the victorious man. “Truth or dare?”

• his eyes narrow in suspicion. “Dare?”

• afraid to speak the truth.

• predictable.

• “I dare you to kiss me.”

• no one needs a pair of glasses to see the growing relationship in the room—

• a truth or dare game unnecessary really.

• it’s not a secret you two liked each other.

• but the boys like games.

• 5 months later and it’s just a game to him.

• the relationship feels like a game.

• you feel like you’re getting played by the many times you’re pushed away.

• but you shouldn’t be.

• you’re his goddamn girlfriend and this is not how things should be.

• “Why were you with her?”

• your voice is shaking through passive aggression,

• hands balled at your sides.

• but Hongjoong shakes you off.

• like the vibration of a PS controller during a cut scene.

• “Hongjoong, why were you with her?”

• his throat croaks before he’s glaring at you claiming, “I wasn’t with her.”

• “You’re lying.”

• “Y-you— hold on. You think I’m lying?” he makes you flinch when he whips around.

• cause he’s never abrasive.

• he’s neither aggressive, he’s loving.

• your romance was novel and honest before things started getting long..

• maybe he was too used to you already.

• maybe he was getting tired of you already..

• “I saw you with her,” you look down at your hands that picked at your dress. “I saw you this morning by the cafe and you were sitting with her. But you told me you stopped seeing her. You told me you’d never lie to me again.”

• Hongjoong groans throwing his hands up in the air. “Y/n, I don’t need to tell you who I meet. Or why I’m meeting them. And no one was fucking telling you to follow me. Why were you?”

• “Why are you lying to me?” a tear falls from your eye when you ask. “Answer me that and maybe I’ll tell you why I followed you.”

• “When was I lying?”

• you choke a scoff of disbelief.

• because is he kidding?

• he can’t be serious.

• he was cheating.

• this wasn’t a game that took cheating lightly.

• hell you aren’t a game in the first place and you sure as hell aren’t gonna stand here being treated as one either.

• “You said you weren’t with her.” you pick at your keys. “That’s only lie number 1.”

• “There’s more?” he laughs in sneer amusement. “God, y/n, you really think I’m—“

• “You still love her. Don’t you?”

• he’s quiet.

• shaking harder than before fists barred to the counter.

• “Don’t you?”

• “I-I’m not answering that.”

• you scoff wiping at the tears that felt wasted..

• even though he’s telling the truth because he can’t completely lie to you.

• “I’m not gonna stand here and pretend that doesn’t bother me, cause it does.” you pack your bags as if you were waiting for this moment to come. “Honestly? It bothers me a lot. Cause you said you stopped loving her the moment you started loving me. Or don’t tell me that’s a lie too, Hongjoong.”

• his jaw clenches to hold back the lies. “I do love you.”

• that’s the honest truth,

• he does.

• but his mind’s playing tricks on him.

• his hearts playing games.

• how can he love more than one person?

• no, he should only love you.

• “Y/n, I never lied about loving you.”

• “Have you ever said anything to me? Anything true other than that?” you face him with pure despair heart hanging by a single thread falling out your chest. “I don’t know if I should believe you or if I should believe myself. That I’m just a game to you.”

• “Don’t say that.” he pulls forward to hold you but you’re hostile. “Please don’t—“

• “This relationship was built on lies, Hongjoong and I’m not gonna stand here and tell you I’m okay when I’m not.”

• he’s never done anything wrong.

• other than not tell you the whole truths, yes.

• but he’s never wanted his ex girlfriend back.

• only sees her to clear up that he’s with you.

• and he’s just abrasive because he’s confused.

• frustrated that someone he once loved keeps lying to him, saying she wants him back.

• but the truth is, he loves you.

• takes him one month to figure out how dumb he was for letting you go just like that.

• “You need to get out.” Yunho finds broken bottles on the floor, cleaning up as best he can. “Hyung, you need some rehab.”

• Hongjoong’s shaking more than usual.

• he’s got a hand tremor, that’s no lie.

• he’s tired and he misses you.

• of course he’s out of his mind.

• “I’m fine.” he lies straight from his teeth. “I just need some sleep—“

• San chokes on his spit rolling his eyes. “You need to stop drinking your ass off is what you need. And hiding here by yourself like a pity party when you’re not gonna get it.”

• truth hurts man, truth hurts.

• “What am I gonna do?” Hongjoong’s voice cracks. “I’m a liar. I’m a no good rotten excuse of a man. I don’t deserve anything but to rot in hell, is what.”

• Yunho’s jaw clenches.

• eyes shut hoping the others are doing well enough with you.

• but you’re just as bad as Hongjoong.

• if not worse.

• sleeping in bed all day and getting fat.

• what was work again?

• “I’m surprised your ass isn’t fired yet.” you hiss at Seonghwa who sits at your bed side. “Okay anaconda, relax. We’re here as detox, not intox.”

• “Funny.” you lie through your teeth in sarcasm. “Leave me alone to die please.”

• “Dude, you look pitiful in there.” Wooyoung kicks at a random milk cartoon. “When was the last time you took a shower?”

• “Last night.”

• “With what, ramen?”

• you sigh before muttering, “What are you guys doing here? And I want the truth, Seonghwa. Why are you guys in my apartment.”

• “We’re worried about you.”

• you scoff hiding you’re face in your blanket once more. “I’m fine. I just need some sleep.”

• “You need to get up, eat real fucking food, and take a goddamn shower is what you actually need.” Wooyoung smiles sinisterly. “And don’t make me drag your ass myself and take a shower with you.”

• you do as they ask because you’re just tired.

• you just want to be alone.

• confused nonetheless.

• cause shouldn’t breaking up with your lying boyfriend feel relieving?

• why is it you feel simple white lies would’ve been better than the honest truth?

• “You miss him.”

• your jaw clenches when you cry against Seonghwa’s shoulder in the car, “I don’t know..”

• “Be honest, y/n. We want the truth.”

• your sobs sound more louder than the words that escape your lips.

• “I miss him. I do.”

• “Even if he told you he loved you. Let’s pretend he said he didn’t, okay?” Seonghwa whispers finger lifting your chin up to look at him. “Wouldn’t it have hurt more if he was really lying to you? When he never really cheated on you.”

• you can’t look at him.

• because Seonghwa’s the walking definition of hurtful truth.

• it’s like facing god.

• how can you lie to Park Seonghwa the way you’ve been lying to yourself.

• “If you really loved him the way you say you do, the honest truth,” he blinks softly at you. “Then you shouldn’t be beating him and yourself up for lying a little bit in attempt to save the relationship between you two.”

• you’re so dramatic.

• you both can be so dramatic.

• like a romance game for teenagers—

• a game based on a novel.

• hey remember?

• how you and Hongjoong’s relationship used to be novel and true.

• now you’re back in his arms.

• as true as it is, you just can’t help it.

• “I love you.”

• Hongjoong holds you up against the wall, hands curled around your neck.

• you sob louder under his shadow,

• under the troubled waters.

• how crying was pretty much useless at this point when you were pretty much ready to give yourself up again.

• ready to make this game have the happy ending you want.

• “Y/n, I love you.” his fingers shakily trace aimless lines over your skin. “I’m not gonna stand here and lie to you. Say I never did when I did. Till now, I still do.”

• you kiss his lips like it’s a sin,

• like it’s cheating.

• running back to him can’t be this easy.

• there’s got to be a trick.

• “B-but how about her?” you’re afraid of loving him back this time. “What if you still love her?”

• “Maybe I do.” he whimpers cause even this hurts him. “Maybe I do but it’s you I choose. Why would I be crying here with you if it’s you I choose?”

• “Hongjoong, I don’t know what to do.” your hand grips on the collar of his shirt. “Joong, I don’t know what to do.”

• desperation hits and he’s gonna have to cheat a little.

• tell you some white lies to hide the hurtful truth from you.

• “I don’t love her.”

• “H-how can I believe you?”

• “Then don’t.” he snakes you over his arms and drops you in his bed. “Dare me to make you believe me. Dare me to get you to fall in love with me again.”

• it’s kind of cheating.

• cause, “No matter what I say, I’ve already fallen in love with you. I dare you to fall in love with me, Kim Hongjoong. Only me. Let’s do that instead.”

• fuzzy is all he feels.

• white noise an interlude to part two.

• “Just fucking stay with me, y/n. And I’ll make sure of nothing like this ever happens again.”

@atinybitofau

403 notes · View notes

tsukki-please-step-on-my-neck · 3 years

Text

Pairing: Tsukishima x Karasuno manager/ Tadashi's twin sister (OC)

Genre: Fluff, slowwwww burn baby, kissing

WC: 6.3K

Part 2 / Part 4

Waking up early to the early rays of light, I still found myself running down to the kitchen to help the other managers make breakfast. While cooking they all went on about how they were waiting around last night for me to join the managers' room, asking for me to sleep in there tonight. They only dropped the subject after I agreed to the slumber party for the rest of the trip.

Once I agreed, all the other girls went back to their kitchen duties while Kiyoko joined me in portioning the rice out into bowls. “Hey Hero, are you ready for the matches today?” “Good morning Kiyoko, I believe I am, I’m just a little worried about the boys since they are kinda on a losing streak.” My comments cause us both to giggle for a moment.

“Yeah, I’m a little worried too but they’ve been through worse, they have it in them but they are playing while learning and that's all that matters. Anyways I wanted to remind you that you’re gonna be helping Kaori and Yukii today with food prep.” “Got it, tell me if Yachi gets flustered, I heard she got the front row seat to an argument between Kags and Hinata last night.”

“She got it handled but,” Kiyoko turns to the window into the cafeteria as if double-checking that none of the boys were there, “I heard Tsukishima played in the third gym last night, how did that happen?”

The question was a bit strange but I caught Kiyoko up to speed about how Bokuto and Kuroo wanted to practice last night and kinda used me to trick Tsukishima into playing. She found the situation funny for some reason that she wouldn’t explain, and moved on to remind me that it could have been worse.

After breakfast ended, I ended up helping Kaori and Yukki in cleaning up dishes and prepping for lunch when some of the Shenzin parents dropped off watermelon for the boys. While cutting the fruit, I felt as if I and the Fukurōdani managers became good friends. They asked me how I had the energy to play volleyball and manage the team.

I often found myself asking myself the same question, but I guess that I was lucky that with Yachi managing with me, the boys always had a manager, even when I had games or practice, but what about for next year.

I love my boys, I love my team, but I also love the feeling of sweating on the court, having my legs ache from jumping left and right. The sting on my arms or the pop of my ankles when I jump. I miss the feeling of spiking and walking out of practice with my hands red, tingling with a reminder of my achievement in blocking spikes.

***

Handing out watermelon to the boys, I found myself getting called over by Kuroo. Walking up to the grassy hill, Kuroo apologized to me as well as Daichi, Asahi, and Tanaka. “Hey I wanted to apologize for angering your middle blocker, I pushed him a little too far last night, and I’m sorry for using you to do that Hero.”

“It’s okay really, I think he needed the little push,” I reassured the cat.

Tanaka jumps in with a question, “Hey Hero, you and Tsukishima are close, by any chance does he have a brother? My sister remembered the name and thought of someone who played on the team when she was in high school.”

“Oh yeah, Aki-san, that's him. He was on the team but barely got to play. Just don’t mention his name around Tsukishima, he really likes to avoid his brother at all costs unless Yams and I are around.”

Daichi took in my words for a moment, staring at the watermelon in his hands, and I would have asked him what he was thinking but the boys were called back to their games and I needed to return to my assignments for the day.

***

Once free time came around, I decided that I would help the Nekoma boys. While setting some balls for Fukunaga to spike, Yams ran into the gym with a worried face, calling me over to the entrance.

I tried to reassure my brother as he freaked out, going on about how he yelled at Tsukki. In all our years as a trio, Yams has always been quick to agree with Tsukki no matter what happened.

“Hey, Yams, I need you to calm down, you did nothing wrong. Go practice your serves with Suga and I’ll go talk to Tsukki.”

With a strange gut feeling, I found myself outside of gym three. Past the netting stood Tsukki playing volleyball. He looked...free. He still had a demenorless face but he looked weightless, jumping as if there was nothing holding him down to earth.

Opening the netting, I walk in and go unnoticed by the players. I sit with my back to the wall and enjoy the game in front of me. I take in Tsukki learning not only from Kuroo on his team and Bokuto across from him, but he actually is jumping to block Hinata and Bokuto.

Their game continues for a while, and when it finally ends, Bokuto is the first one to spot me. After trading some words with Kuroo, he zooms over with his booming voice, Kuroo a few steps behind “If it isn't the Goddess of Karasuno, Hero, tell me you saw my amazing spikes.”

I laugh with the owl as Kuroo and Tsukishima come and join us. Tsukki sits next to me on the ground, gulping from his water bottle as I converse with the 2 strong personalities, it looks like Akaashi is on his phone while he's stuck dealing with Hinata and the tall Russian from Nekoma.

“So, Hero, goddess of Karasuno, why bless us with watching our messily 3 on 3 game? Is it possible because you wanted to watch some real men play or did you just miss us after our little talk last night?” Kuroo’s words roll off his tongue in a seductive tone, once again seeing how far he can push my salty blocker.

Bokuto shoves his captain buddy, sending a booming laugh across the gym, “oh yeah Kuroo, if she came to watch a real man play then we both know she only watched me, based on my skill alone.”

“Sorry to break both of your hearts but I’m actually here for this boy.” I pointed at Tsukishima, causing the Owl to groan as he leaned over to pick up his jacket on the ground, taking out his wallet and handing money over to Kuroo.

I go on to ignore the standing idiots, turning to my own idiot, “So I heard that Tadashi yelled at you Tsukki, wanna talk about it?”

He kept his eyes on mine but kept his mouth on his water bottle which surely had to be out by now. I leaned behind me to grab my full water bottle, and I put it out in front of him, offering it to see if he’ll continue the facade instead of answering me. He must have called my bluff because his fingers extended for the container till Kuroo took it from my hand.

Offering a smile to those of us on the floor, Kuroo held the bottle out of our reach, “Sorry Skinny but you can’t drink out of her bottle, that would be just as bad as you kissing our goddess.”

Kuroos’ joking words caused Tsukki to jump up and take the bottle from Kuroo with a fierce face, sitting back down but closer to me. “Hey cat, why do I have a feeling that you and owls magee here are trying to steal Hero from us?” His words seemed lazy but strict, walking a fine line between sass and annoyance as he stretched his legs in front of him and placing his hands behind his torso to keep his body straight only mere inches from me.

Bokuto chose to fight the seated blocker, “It’s not our fault we know a good manager when we see one, I would say we know a good blocker when we see one but your height blocked them out.”

Kuroo laughed at Bokuto’s words but cut his thoughts down, “What I think owls here is trying to say is that your team has three managers and she just so happened to have stolen our hearts, but don’t worry, when you lose at nationals, my jersey will keep her warm during the game.”

I chose to keep quiet during this joke of an exchange. I watched as Kuroo and Bokuto were just trying to get Tsukki revved up with jokes but my blocker kept cool.

“Funny that you say that seeing as she already has my jersey on the floor of her room,” Tsukishima tormented Kuroo with a smirk and wink my way, only to turn to the owl hooting on the ground. “And what's wrong with my height, after only a few moments of playing against you, I blocked your spikes.” He laid out his mental cards and took a long chug from my water bottle, staring straight at the captains waiting for their retorts.

I start to get a feeling that all 3 men forgot that I was right here, and seeing that Tsukishima seemed fine, my business here was done. I grabbed the empty water bottle belonging to my teammate and started to stand up to leave but the men must have wanted to mess with me now because Kuroo extended his hand to me. “Kitten, I thought you two were only friends.”

“We are Kuroo, I kept telling you that last night.” My words helped a smirk grow across his playful face and it seemed to piss off Tsukki by my choice of words. I take my hand from his palm, offering him my sweetest smile. “I will see you both tomorrow, I have somewhere to be.”

I start to leave when Tsukki calls my name, standing up and handing me the bottle from his hands, straightening his spine. He leans into Kuroos’ ear and whispers something softly before offering the upperclassmen a smile and walking back over to me. “Let's go Hero-chan.”

I chose to once again ignore the game that these boys are trying to play, and start heading for the door. I reach for the netting when Tsukki grabs my extended hand and spins me to engulf my body into a hug.

I keep my arms relaxed, but I don't wrap them around him. Instead, I think of how frail he feels against me, the scent of coffee is weak from his lack of it but I can still slightly smell it. He starts to pull away from me and I can feel him slightly lean and place a kiss on my forehead.

Once his strength releases, I turn, ripping through the netting on the door, leaving Tsukki in the gym as I run to go meet up with the other managers.

***

For the rest of the trip, I ignored the boys from the third gym. When I stood or talked with my team, I tried to stay with the second-years in hopes that Tsukki would find the group too annoying to approach.

It wasn’t that I was mad at Tsukki, I was flustered. He was my best friend who let his ego pull me into his need to be the best. I wanted to get mad at him but I knew it was a conversation for home and not in front of others so I ran from him and avoided his texts, fearing the bus ride home.

I knew I had feelings for him, they were strange feelings that I could only owe to friendship, but I liked how we were now, nothing more or less. If I had romantic feelings, I knew I had a better chance with Akaashi whose eyes never left his ace than I did with Tsukki.

When we were standing around the busses I finally found the courage to say goodbye to the boys I met. Kenma doesn't seem like a hugger so I just shook his hand and reminded him that we need to play together sometime.

Kuroo pulled me into a side hug and wished me “luck with training skinny,” before he put his arm around Kenma and they walked to their bus.

Bokuto ran over to me, pulling me away from the main group and for once his loud voice was replaced with a whisper, “Here’s my number,” he pushed a piece of paper into my hand, “I guess I’ll be seeing you a lot soon.”

“Thanks, Bokuto,” I offered him a smile as I tried to understand his words, he doesn't know...does he? “We need to hang out sometime soon okay!”

“Of course Hero, and you can call me Kou, that's what Akaashi does sometimes.” He picks me up and twirls me in his hearty arms before walking me back to my team. He drops me off at the bus and calls for Akaashi, causing him to turn in our direction, and offers me a smile and wave.

Standing in front of the bus, I was left with the job of marking everyone off as they got onto the bus so hopeful I could get a seat away from Tsukishima, but it started to seem unlikely as the groups loaded up.

Ukai and I were the last ones outside the bus. Handing him the clipboard he must have noticed my actions over the last 36 hours cause he offered me his words, “Hey Sunshine, leave that anxiety here, let's head back with clean minds and bright attitudes.”

I thank him and stepped up to find that the only seats are in the back of the bus with Tsukki who sat in the seat I sat in on the way here and the seat next to Yams at the opposite window.

I sit next to my brother in the aisle seat and throw my jacket over my body. I adjust my body and put my head on my brother's shoulder and lay my legs out into the aisle, quickly passing out as the sun sets on the bus.

Waking up, I find my view different. The bus is clothed in darkness and instead of being able to look down the aisle, I'm lying down with a seat in front of me and a pair of legs under my head.

Tearing my head off of the pair of legs and sitting up I found that I was asleep on Tsukki, using his legs as a pillow. My moving must have awoken him as he quickly speaks, rubbing his eyes. “Hero,-”

“How did I end up over here, I was leaning on Yams a while ago.” I look around the bus to find that once again everyone is asleep except us and Ukai at the wheel.

“You passed out before we even left the Shenzhen parking lot, but you started stirring in your sleep, it kinda freaked out Sugawara cause he wanted to wake you if it was a nightmare so I just moved you closer to me so I could soothe you.” His eyes had a look of tiredness in them, but not the lack of sleep tired, more like emotional exhaustion. I once again looked around the bus to make sure that everyone was asleep before I gave in to Tsukki. He stared out the window lost in thought. I threw my legs over his and put my head on his shoulder, joining him in the view out the window.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you Tsukki. You just flustered me and I was kinda mad, Kou and Kuroo were just messing with you”

He kept his eyes out on the night sky but moved his arm to put over my legs, stabilizing my legs on his lap. “No, I should apologize, I let them get to me.”

His words were sincere as his hand closest to the window pulled the jacket off his bag on the ground, once again placing it on my legs. “Wait, He turns his head forward, who's Kou?”

“Bokuto said I could call him that since that's what Akaashi calls him.”

I feel Tsukki’s muscles tense under me as he whispers, barely loud enough for me to hear, “You call him that, yet after years of friendship, you call me by my last name.”

I gently take my head off his shoulder as he turns to me, “I'm sorry if you want me to call you Kei, I wil-”

Before I could finish my thought, his hand rushes from my legs to my shirt as he tugs on the fabric to pull me closer, slamming his lips onto mine.

His soft lips gently clash against mine for a moment. He pulls himself off, his lips just barely hovering off mine, our foreheads connected as our eyes stare into each other.

A feeling of confusion and neediness take over me as I find the same feelings reflected in his bright golden eyes as they jump to my lips before returning to my eyes.

He starts to lean away but my hands jump to his collar, pulling him back into me. After a mere taste of his lips, I found my mouth craving another taste, chasing a lick of his reassuring and gentle kisses that his mouth offered.

The liplock lasts only a few moments before we rip ourselves off each other, realizing what just happened. I try to form words that only come out as stutters, “Tsu-tsuk-Kei, i-I'm sorry...I shouldn't have done that.”

I start to remove my legs from his lap, but his hands land on the muscles, holding them in place. His warm hands send a jolt of energy into my cold legs. He turns to look down, trying to process what just happened.

“Kei, I’m so-”

“Hero, that was completely my fault.”

We sat there in silence, both trying to make sense of a measly kiss. I once again try to remove my legs, but he keeps his tight grip on them and adjusts his jacket to warm them up.

“To be honest, I wanted to do that years ago Hero.” He looked up at me and I found a spark in his eye that I’ve never seen before. “I’m not gonna apologize for it but if you want to forget about it, you can but just know that I don't think I can.”

He leaned back into his seat and returned his line of sight to the early stars dancing in the last of the light, a slight smile on his lips hid in the darkness. With my mind starting to fuzz over, I decided to let go of the moment and just live, I just wanted to watch the stars in this moment as I returned my head to the crook of his neck. Relaxing into him, all was fine as I fell back into sleep.

***

“Hey hero, I'm gonna pick you up and carry you to the car okay, hey Yamaguchi take her bag, I’m right behind you.” His delicate words wake me, but I can sense myself drifting in and out of consciousness as the only things I sense are Tsukki’s body heat and constant movement.

Still half-awake, I don’t have the energy to open my eyes or finish waking up so I accept my friend's touch and helpfulness as he carries me to the car and then into my house. I feel his body slowly go up the stairs, taking every step slowly and gently. Instead of going straight at the top of the stairs, I feel him turn left into the guest room, laying me down on the futon.

I hear yams walk in and lay on the other side of the room. Tsukki must have laid next to me cause the last thing I accepted before succumbing to a night's sleep was a warm breath on my ear, “Goodnight Hero, I hope this I never wake up from this dream,” and a soft kiss on my forehead.

Waking up in the morning, I opened my eyes to Tsukkis sleeping face mere inches from mine, with our hands grasping together. Memories of the bus ride and coming home slowly flooded back into my mind.

Trying to push the images of last night out of my head, I slowly sat up and pulled my hand from his warm grasp to find that Yams' body was taking up most of the room. My parents must have set up the futons knowing that we were getting back late and since it's still summer break, we had nowhere to be this morning until noon for practice.

Getting up, I went to shower and get ready for the day so that I could make breakfast. Walking down to the kitchen, I started to pull everything to make egg rolls and rice.

I heard the boys start to stir just as I finished cooking. Portioning the food onto plates, I walked over to the table to set them down, finding an envelope with my name on the front, along with the Fukurōdani seal in gold. The sound of Yams and Tsukki coming down forces me to hide the envelope in a kitchen drawer.

As much as I wanted to open the envelope, I wanted to wait and open it with Takeda and Ukai since they were the ones who have been supporting me throughout the entire process.

“Morning Yams, morning Kei, foods on the table, let me grab the drinks really quick.”

Me calling Tsukki by his first name caused both boys to stop dead in their tracks by the table as they stared at me. Tsukki had a slight smile on his face while Yams looked at me like I had 2 heads.

Kei must have noticed my brother's reaction because he quickly tried to move the conversation along, “So we have practice at noon right, I guess we have a few hours to kill then.” Yams happily joined the conversation, dropping his confusion, “Uhhh yeah, so that gives us time to start laundry, do we need to run over to your house to grab your clothes for practice Tsukki?”

“I should have clean clothes in my bag, are you both still gonna come over tonight to watch that new dinosaur movie? Akiteru might be there but my mom has a night shift tonight.”

I agreed to whatever the boys wanted to do, and as much as I tried to stay active in the conversation, I found myself nervous about the letter's contents. As much as I wanted the paper to contain good news, I know the news would not be taken lightly as it would require me to step out of my comfort zone, leave the life I’ve grown accustomed to and I might even become the enemy.

Arriving at the gym doors, the sudden anxious adrenaline hit my body like a club. My breaths became very shallow as I separated from the boys to go find Ukai and Takeda. They were talking right outside the supply room door when I approached. As soon as I enter the conversation, Ukai’s eyes land on the letter I pulled out of the bag. A smile took over his face as he searched for the same look on my face, “So, you ready for the moment of truth Sunshine?”

“To be completely honest, no. I can barely look at it let alone open it.” I tried to put on a smile for my coaches, but all I could do was start to gently jitter.

Takeda put his hand on my shoulder, pulling my eye of sight up to the men instead of past them. “Do you want me to open it, we could even have Daichi and the team open it for you if that would make you feel better.”

A reassuring feeling took over me with an ounce of worry. “Don’t you think it would be weird for the boys to tell me if I’m leaving them or not? Don’t get me wrong, I love them and they are my second family but they don’t even know about the opportunity."

The memory of how this entire thing even happened came flooding back. I originally applied to Fukurōdani because of their team when applying to high schools, along with Karasuno. I got accepted but when Kei and Yams both got accepted to Karasuno, I couldn't leave them. I never told them I applied, and when I went to the Interhigh-Preliminaries, the volleyball coach for the Fukurōdani girls' team had approached me about how much she looked forward to meeting me, and how upset she was when I decided to not go there. She told me how she only came out to meet me and inform me that the door was always open if I changed my mind.

I remember telling myself that I wanted to stay at Karasuno cause I was just playing for fun and how after school I wanted to do sports promotion, maybe manage a team cause I loved finding and building the love I found in sports in others. That all was very true but after losing our one and only official game, I realized I wasn't happy here. I loved being a manager but that was because I liked the people and of course, getting to spend more time with my brother and best friend, but it wasn’t enough anymore, I needed something for my happiness to sustain and this felt like it could do that for me.

I only told Takeda about it in the beginning because I knew Ukai would tell me that the choice was what I made it to be. Takeda talked me through an entire practice on if I should call the coach about reapplying and the pros and cons it meant for me. He did warn me that I would probably be a bench warmer for the rest of the season, but I could talk to her about being a manager for their boys' team so I could get to know everyone better. He encouraged me every step of the way, cried with me after every decision, and was always ready to help me when I was confused or scared.

I took a moment to find my answer and looked up to the coaches after deciding my answer. “Would it be possible for Takeda to read it to the team after practice? I need to know as soon as possible, and as much as I don’t want to push it off, what's a few more hours to know what my life will be in a month so I should find out with my family.”

Takeda quickly agreed as slight tears began to form in his eyes. He quickly reminded us that practice was about to start as Yachi and Kiyoko entered, offering to help me set up the net.

The practice dragged on as the jitters took over my movements and speech, forcing me to stay quiet and just help Noya with blocking Asahis’ sets. The boys noticed my weird lack of conversations but only the third-years approached me about it. Telling them everything was fine was easy as long as my eyes stayed on something besides them.

After hours of trying to hide my nervous self, the time had come as Ukai and Takeda called us all over, inviting me to stand with them at the front.

Looking at my team that became my family over the last 5 months, became very hard as my legs began to shake. I must have gone pale as I stood in silence, slightly swaying in front of the team because the boys all started to rise to stand at my side, but Yams pushed Tsukki up to the front.

He walked over linking his arm into mine and stood at my side. Finally having the courage to open my mouth, I tried to speak without losing myself or my emotions. “I’m sorry that you all have to stay a few more minutes, but I have some big news. As you all know, besides being one of your managers, I also play for our girls' team and I actually applied to another school before coming here. I was approached by the other school's volleyball coach to reapply for the I actually just got my answer in the mail while we were at Shenzhen.”

Tears started to roll down my face, I let them be, knowing all the tissues in the world could never hold back my current emotions as I looked out at the girls who became like sisters to me, the boys who helped me to grow stronger. I started to remove my linked arm from Kei when he grasped my hand once again.

Looking up at my best friend, I found anger, sadness, and confusion in his eyes. I could tell that he wanted to yell and scream at me, but he was lost. I knew I was gonna get an earful later but now wasn’t just about me or him, it wasn't about us, it was about the team. I looked back at the team with my red face and bowed to them, “No matter what this letter says, I thank you all from the bottom of my heart for everything.” Bringing my head back up, I knew I needed my answer now or never. “Takeda will now read the letter.”

Looking over at the teacher, his hands shakily opened the crisp envelope, and I could tell he was trying to hide the seal from everyone. His eyes scanning the first line felt like a lifetime. “We take great pride in informing Hiromi Yamaguchi that she has been accepted and we look forward-”

I fell to my knees in tears. Neither happiness nor sadness took over my raw emotional state. The team ran over me, hugging me with praise and fear as I could hear stuffy noses and feel tears on others. I felt as if all the stress and weight I’ve gained in life was lifted, carried away by the crows hugging me.

We stayed like that for a while, just a team crying and softly whispering amongst ourselves. When everyone finally calmed down, I looked around me to find all the red faces around me, and Ukai offering everyone tissues, taking a few for himself. Kei was standing away from all of us, he was reading the letter over and over before throwing the letter on the ground and running away. Ukai decides to chase the angry blocker, reminding us that we need to lock up soon.

Daichi decided to break the sea of silences and snuffles, “So what school are you going to be going to. With your skill, you probably took the entrance exam for Shiratorizawa, right? Surely we’ll still be seeing you at all our games and practices so you can see your brother play.” With a hearty laugh from the team captain, I stayed silent.

Looking down at my pants, I somehow found the words that would ruin this even more. “Fukurōdani, I’ll be moving to go to Fukurōdani right outside of Tokyo. I will be 5 hours away.” An uproar went on between the boys, I couldn't tell if the cause of the commotion was how far I was gonna be or if it was because I was about to be playing for an enemy, but I didn't care because I knew the words hit one person the most.

Standing up during the commotion, completely ignoring the uproar around me, I stumbled over to Yams who was frozen at the edge of the group. He seemed lost in thought as I looked at my best friends since day one, my other half, and I watched as he mentally fell apart. I caught him in my arms as we sat on the floor, grasping each other with all of our love, cries, and tears.

He made my decision the hardest, never have I ever lived my life without him being by my side, always laughing and crying together, from here on...until the day I leave. Tadashi always encouraged me from the sidelines, my own brother was my cheerleader, just as I was for him and as much as he didn’t want to be far from me, I knew he would still cheer for me, no matter the distance.

Yams and I stayed on the floor as Takeda ushered everyone to leave reminding the team that we can finish the conversation on Monday at practice. Yams pulled away with silence as we grabbed our things and started our walk home. Our linked arms stayed in place as we walked, me looking at my feet and him texting on his phone. “We’re here Hero.”

I looked up to see a different view than what I was expecting as Yams pulled out the key. “I thought we were going home, Kei doesn't want to see me, does he even know we’re here.”

“It’s movie night, or did you forget, and don't worry, I told Aki-san that we were on our way.” Yams opened the door and we found Akiteru poking his head from the kitchen.

“Can I get one of you to go grab Kei, he’s locked himself in his room and dinner is almost ready.”

Yams pushed me over to the stairs, “Hero is gonna go grab him and I’ll help you with dinner, It smells good.”

I knew Yams was gonna do this so instead of fighting him I walked up the stairs and knocked on Kei’s room, “Tsukki, dinner is almost ready.”

Silence stayed, I couldn’t hear anything from his room, not even him getting up from his bed, “Tsukki, come on out,” I reached to turn the knob but it was locked, “Kei, open the door...please,” I begged.

The door barely opened before I saw a hand reach out and tug me inside the room. I was pushed against the firm door before I could even blink. “Kei, I’m so-” His soft lips attacked me hungrily, biting on my lower lip, letting his tongue glide into my mouth, devouring me with his touches as his arms snaked around my body, holding me close to his. His open mouth kisses quickly become deeper but soft, his body slightly tensed against mine as if fearing what happens once he stops kissing me.

Slowly but surely I find the strength in me to stop, grabbing his shirt and pushing him away from me. His face is red, covered with dry tears, a look of confusion could still be found in his tired eyes. “Tsukki, tell me what's wrong, please,” I begged him.

“You didn’t tell me, after all these years of friendship and you’re leaving me? What about our plans of going to nationals together, graduating together, and going to the same college. You...you woke me up from my dream Hero.”

Tsukki’s rambling put a stake through my heart, not because he was listing these events, not because of his tears starting back up again, but he was saying his wants, his dream for the future. We never talked about going to nationals around him cause he would just laugh at the idea, we never talked about graduating together since it was just implied and we definitely never talked about going to college together.

I stopped his ramblings, “Tsukki, do you like me, like do you have thoughts of us together?” My words must have struck a cord cause he stared at me like I was Hinita with a perfect grade.

“Hero, are you stupid?” A chuckle fell from his desperate voice.

“No, I was just say-”

“Hiromi Yamaguchi, I don’t kiss my friends, I don’t hold their hands everywhere we go. I don’t play volleyball with an owl, a cat, and that setter for no reason, let alone put up with them flirting with you. I don't let Tadashi put his legs across my lap every time we drive somewhere, for my sake I don’t let anyone touch my jacket, let alone wear it or sew a dino on it.”

I continue to stare at the emotional blonde, speechless and he seems to be waiting for it to hit me.

“Hero, I have had these feelings for you and now I know that your feelings are just as real as mine, or else you wouldn’t have kissed me. I’m not saying I want you to stay for me but I needed to tell you that I-”

A knock on the door stops him, Yams opens the door to tell us that dinner is ready. I automatically follow my brother into the hallway and down the stairs, and after a few moments, I hear Tsukki throw himself on his bed.

“What was that yelling I heard, Hero?” Aki-san asks, handing over a plate for me.

“I’m going to be transferring to Fukurōdani after the summer break, I move in 3 weeks and Tsukki wasn’t very happy with the news.”

“Well that's wonderful Hero,” Akiteru completely dismisses his brother's feelings. “Are you gonna stay with family there or get an apartment?” Aki asks with a mouthful of vegetables.

“Actually our grandparents own some apartments up there so I’ll be living in one of those near campus so that I can stay late for volleyball practice. I'll be on the bench for the rest of the season for the girls and since both of their managers are 3rd years, I’ll be helping out the boys team in my free time. That's all I really know since I tried not to prepare too much before I got the acceptance letter.”

“Wait,” Tadashi must have figured it out, “So does that mean that if we make it to nationals then we could be playing against you?”

“Of course it does Yams,” Tsukki announced hopping down the stairs, two at a time, finally joining us at the table.

“Don’t worry though, she’ll be on the sidelines cheering us on, right Hero?” Tsukki looked at me, he called my name with a slight cheer in his voice.

“of course,” I reply, happy that he actually found something to look forward to.

#hq tsukishima #tsukishima kei #tadashi yamaguchi #fanfic #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#tsukishima fluff #tsukishima fanfiction

10 notes · View notes

fae-redux · 3 years

Text

im stuck on you

S: People usually find their soulmate by following their heart (the closer you are to your soulmate, the warmer you’ll feel). Remus has been pining for so long, he doesn’t know how to handle himself.

P: dukeceit

happy birthday, @littlemisschameleon!! it’s corona and i can’t give you a physical present so have some dukeceit soulmate au!! i hope you like it :D (here’s an ao3 link if yall like that formatting better)

***

Remus sends the letter because Roman’s teacher thinks a penpal will help him learn English. Also, because Roman thinks it’s stranger danger and won’t.

If he gets kidnapped, at least there’s a chance for his heart to feel warmer whichever direction his kidnapper goes. Fact remains, he’s freezing and bored and he’d do pretty much anything to not be.

He neglects to say that in the letter.

His penpal instead receives the gift of approximately two full pages of fun facts about different species of mushrooms and how fast they can decay different animals. It’s pretty well written, if he says so himself, and it’s all in English because he’s polite, not because it has to be.

Any who, Ms. Andrea says she’s not going to read the letters before they’re sent, and Roman is only required to send one at a time, so Remus signs it with his own name and lets it go.

He doesn’t expect the letter he gets back to be so nice.

His penpal’s name is Janus and he doesn’t like to eat mushrooms unless they’re in fried rice, but he loves how mushrooms look.

There are little mushroom doodles that line the bottom, along with a few snakes, which Janus goes on to say is because they’re his favorite animal because of the way they unhinge their jaws.

Remus has never wished to be in the same school as someone more.

***

The next letter they write to each other includes their emails, and Remus takes full advantage of it to send Janus all the deadliest snakes he’s found out about in the library, and includes a pain scale with human accounts of getting bitten.

Janus sends back a heart and fun facts about the deadliest octopi in the ocean.

He feels his heart get slightly warmer when he hugs the monitor, and when he loudly proclaims he found his soulmate, he gets a laugh from Roman.

He asks him what his plan is here, and Remus tells him to shut his fuck and keep his nose out of it if he doesn’t want to get smacked.

***

When they’re old enough to have phones, they exchange cell numbers, and Remus gets daily updates instead of sporadic emails.

He finds out that Janus likes to dress a little more on the punk side and that he wants a million tattoos as soon as he’s old enough. Janus tells him about foster homes and how he thinks he might be sticking with one of the other kids he met who is a little older than him, but is sort of like him.

Janus is smart, smarter than anyone he’s ever met in real life, and he wants to go to law school because he knows he can talk his way out of hell if the devil asked him to try, and Remus is inclined to believe he could do it if he wanted to. He thinks through all his words, his every movement, ten times before he follows through, unlike Remus’ zero-thought policy.

He learns that Janus likes boys, but there aren’t really other people in his hometown like him, and that he wants to study in a big city someday so he’s not so alone.

He learns that Janus wants to keep talking to him forever, or at least that’s what he tells him.

Remus in turn tells him about his brother, and their origin story. He tells him about how everyone else just seemed to have grown out of curiosity and how he feels out of touch with other people his age sometimes.

There’s still a part of him that feels like he’s been touching all the stars in the sky, but none of them have set his orbit quite right, leaving him drifting endlessly.

He tells him that he might like boys too, but he doesn’t really want to tell his mom because she already rags on him for everything else, like wanting to go to art school and his knife collection and how he’ll never meet his soulmate with an attitude like his.

He doesn’t tell him about the small seed of doubt in the back of his head that Janus won’t want to stay if he ever meets him in real life.

He tells him he wants to keep talking forever too.

***

They don’t ever talk about meeting in person. For the first time in their lives, they’re in the same city, but every time he goes to bring it up, seeing a picture of Janus in the financial district, or near his favorite Starbucks, something makes him hesitate.

Remus wants it so bad, it feels like all the air in his lungs isn’t real sometimes, or like something cut up his insides then spooned all the pieces out to replace them with ice. Still, the thought lingers in the back of his mind that Janus hasn’t suggested it for a reason.

They still talk all the time though, whether it's to rant about professors, or homework, or siblings, or just about something they saw recently.

Janus tends to hyperfocus on cases he works on in his internship sometimes, and when he’s allowed, he tells Remus all the gory details and grins when he revels in the fun, while also giving valuable insight that contributes to his defense.

Remus in turn sends him the paintings that don’t involve Janus’ face and stupid selfies he takes at random food carts around school that are rumored to give you instant food poisoning.

He makes sure to send progress updates on the projects he really feels good about and sends him updates on Roman and his new trends, whether they be six second dance videos or random quotes he’s said to him of varying hilarity based on how stupid they are.

The longer he lives in the city, the more Remus knows his heart feels warmer. He’s been feeling it since the start of the semester, but he hasn’t said anything yet, at least not to Janus. Roman is free game, though:

“Roman, I swear to everything fuckable within a ten mile radius, he probably goes to the same college as me,” Remus groans, his feet propped up on the back of the couch as he lies upside down. “I get warmer every time I go to campus.”

“There’s a million colleges in New York, so he really might not be,” Roman says reasonably, doing his eyeliner in the hall mirror. “Besides, he’s pre-law, right? There’s no way.”

“You’re just being uppity because you fricking met your soulmate on campus,” He responds grumbling.

“You’re right, I am. My soulmate’s a genius and I am very lucky to have met him when I did,” His twin’s pride infects the room, and he throws one Roman’s unnecessary couch pillows at him. “If you make me screw up my eyeliner, I’m going to run you through with one of your stupid wall-katanas.”

“They aren’t stupid, and I’m never going to see him face to face at this rate, so you might as well,” he snipes back, his purely decorative wall-mounted katanas be damned.

Roman raises an eyebrow, as if his mocking will affect Remus at all, “I’ll be back in like three hours, then you can mope your heart out, okay?”

He gathers his things from the hall table as Remus yells at his retreating back, “I don’t mope, I’m not you!”

“No, you’re not, and that’s why you don’t have a hot date tonight!” he hears as the door shuts.

He wishes he kept the pillow to suffocate himself with.

***

When Roman knocks on Virgil’s door, he doesn’t expect the person who answers the door to be so familiar, and he’s sure the answering party doesn’t expect him either.

“I thought-Sorry, I thought my roommate’s soulmate was coming over,” Janus says, a flash of recognition in his eyes, completely stunned in a way Roman has never heard while listening in on his brother’s phone calls.

“Yeah, no, I’m here for Virgil. Janus, right?” And at the immediately suspicious look goes, “Oh, for fuck’s sake, you send my brother at least five selfies a week, and he agonizes over your beauty for ages after every single one, you have to know I would recognize you on sight.”

“....Roman?” he asks, like he doesn’t actually know what was going to leave his mouth when he said it.

“That would be me,” Roman just goes for the back of his neck, before wincing at the Remus-like gesture. “So, uh, Virgil?”

“Yeah, yes!” Janus opens the door fully so fast, Roman almost expects him to run himself over, “Do come in. Would you like anything while you wait? Water? Tea?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Janus hovers for a moment like he’s going to say something, but bites his lip instead, “Want to know how my brother is doing?”

He shifts elegantly, though his chains rattle, making the adjustment more obvious, “Of course not, what do you take me for?”

“A liar, you definitely want to know how he’s doing. Well, you’ll be happy to know he lives fifteen minutes away,” Roman grins, “And he’s home alone right now, pouting about wanting to see you, if you wanna go over.”

“It would be rude to leave you unattended in my home,” Janus replies, his voice strangled. “Arrangements can be made to get Virgil to hurry up.”

Leaving the room in a swift movement of leather and metal, Janus nearly vaults the couch in his haste. Roman can hear him yelling at Virgil to “Hurry up, you nasty, spider-pet keeping bitch,” and his soulmate’s yells to “Get out of my room, you tattooed skank!” Then an offended gasp, “How dare you?” and the snarling response, “You barge into my space and-”

“You hooked up with my soulmate’s brother-”

”Who is my soulmate, idiot!”

“Would you just-”

“Fine!”

Janus leaves the room and, in Roman’s line of sight, straightens his shirt as if he’d just been in some sort of scuffle. “Virgil will be out shortly, if you wouldn’t mind giving me the address.”

“You two are going to be related if you marry my brother, you know?” Roman grins as he puts the address into Janus’ phone.

He takes the phone back and rolls his eyes, “We were fostered by the same family. We really can’t get any closer, but I’ll keep that in mind.”

“We were adopted by the same person, Jan, why do you always conveniently leave that part out?” Virgil grumbles as he enters the room. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and be safe.”

Janus sniffs turning up his nose, “I’m going to get violently murdered before I even make it there,”

“Don’t test me, I will put off this date,” he pushes Janus’ head forward so he can’t look up at them. “Be safe, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Janus mumbles, fixing his hat and his chained belt, “Do I look okay?”

“My brother is a trash rat,” Roman responds, louder than he means to, “You will look like a model next to him and you will constantly get questioned as to why you’re in a five foot radius of him.”

“So, good?”

“Fantastic,” Roman confirms. “Now have fun.”

Janus double checks his pockets for his phone and his wallet, and then he books it in the direction of the twins’ apartment.

***

For the first time since he moved in, Remus feels himself getting warmer by the second. It’s not as though he’s moved from his spot going over every single thing that could currently be going wrong at Roman’s date, but somehow, his heart is pounding like he has.

“What do you see?” He asks it, vaguely aware it can’t actually respond. Either his soulmate just figured out where he lives, or there is something extremely important happening in the city.

Picking up his phone to check, it lights up with a text from Roman reading ‘Sending a pick-me-up your way,’ but he has no idea what it means.

After two minutes of constant heat, he searches for major events happening nearby. Nothing.

Five more minutes pass, and he thinks he might die young to a heart attack.

There’s a knock on the door.

His self preservation instincts must be completely nonexistent at this point because he yanks the door open with a knife in his hand and freezes. There, right in front of him, is Janus, who he thought he’d never see, and who was always too good for him, and yet, perfect for him in every way and, “I could have accidentally killed you with one of my many wall-hung weapons because you didn’t knock like Roman,” and that is the first thing he chooses to say to his soulmate.

“I wouldn’t have appreciated the trip to the hospital after I just sprinted over half a mile to see you,” he pants a little, “I know we didn’t talk about it, but Roman showed up at my door, and I knew you had to be nearby, and I just-”

Remus yanks him forward into his arms, and sighs in relief as the heat abruptly goes away, “Mr. I-think-everything-through needed to be impulsive, huh?”

“Yes,” Comes the fervent response as he clings to Remus’ body. “I missed you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to meet up. We didn’t even-”

“I know,” And Janus’ mouth brushes his cheek, just barely, because he’s not tall enough to reach, and Remus bends down, and kisses him soundly on the mouth, the feeling running through his body like a new kind of heat and comfort, and it feels like he’s done it a million times, even if it’s the first time.

Breaking apart, he notices they’re just standing in the doorway of his apartment. “Come inside, sweetheart,” He wiggles his eyebrows salaciously, Janus bursting into laughter as he pushes him back.

“Nope,” He grins fondly, and this is the first day of the rest of their lives, it hits Remus, “I think I’m going to cause problems on purpose.”

“Fair enough, honeybee,” He tugs at the yellow cuffs of Janus’ leather jacket, pressing a kiss to a tattoo at the edge of his hairline, “Want me to carry you? Roman did say he was sending a pick-me-up, and I can definitely pick you up.”

He’s giggling, Remus delights as he scoops him up, kicking the door shut behind them, “If you call me one more pet name, I will combust, and you will have no soulmate to be with, is that what you want?”

And he says what he wants to say, because Janus has never once cared about the shit that leaves his mouth, “Biscuit, I’ve waited so long to see you, even death couldn’t keep me away from holding you.”

Janus pushes into him and kisses him again, putting a hand in his hair, tugging slightly to get the angle he wants, “I wouldn’t want it to,” Then after another kiss, “Love you.”

Remus sighs into his mouth, his world aligning so he could be the orbit to Janus’ sun, the whole system correcting itself. “Yeah,” He holds him just a little bit tighter, “Love you, too.”

#dukeceit #remus sanders #janus sanders #ts remus #ts janus #sanders sides #intruceit #awen writes #its the floof guys #im also getting into human au stuff and like punk sides #you can blame tulip for that one #punk janus is a classic tho #imo anyways #remus uses pet names because all the others cringe something awful whenever he uses them and janus is the only one who gets normal ones #did i project my wish to be called honeybee into this fic? yes #would i do it again?#also yes #hey alex #go listen to falling for u by mxmtoon thats what the titles from

30 notes · View notes

metanoiamorii · 3 years

Text

❛A DEVIL'S FINEST TRICK IS TO PERSUADE YOU THAT HE DOES NOT EXIST.❜

Dámianus took in a breath when he heard the familiar, annoying footsteps stomping forward. With haste, came the familiar, annoying voice. "Can you believe it?!"

Breathing in, it took his full strength to keep a leveled tone, not show his annoyance. "Believe what?"

His brother scowled, as if he was the idiot present. "They failed!"

"Pity." Was all Dámianus could think to say. He had to hide his smile upon hearing the news. He had an act to keep. "They must have not followed the plan, I did give them detailed instructions after all."

"How are you so apathetic?!" Makjo scoffed, eyes rolling. "That's our father—"

"Your father." Dámianus corrected. "You are his son, I am his errand boy."

"Oh wow, its a misery you proved yourself capable and he saw your potential!" Makjo mockingly threw back, going as far to make a fake, crying gesture to accompany his words.

Dámianus, however, quick to smile, tilted his head to the side. "Oh, does that mean he saw no potential in you?"

It was worth it, to watch the brat's features scrunch and his face to go red. A finger raised, and going to bite back. "You—"

Already walking off, Dámianus tucked the parchment beneath his arm. "I suppose I will go meet with our allies and see what went wrong." Casually he spoke, striding forward, leaning down, pecking his brother's cheek, and using the opportunity to quietly whisper, "Don't grow too comfortable. Many people will come for your crown." Before Makjo could reply, he had already taken his leave, to find better company he could tolerate.

At least the brat was an idiot. He had yet to see through everything. He had slipped up with their father, the bastard caught on at the last second. He barely corrected that.. But he had no doubt with Makjo, the brat would never see anything coming... still. He needed to be more careful if all were to be successful.

♧ Chosen Name: Dámianus D'truiryxr

♧ Aliases:

• Dame

• Dami

• Damocles Aliah Teivel; his human guise

• Your Glorious Insane Highness

• Ali; reserved for his nanny alone

• Funny Monkey Man; reserved for his partner

• Lord Teivel

• Princeling

♧ Known as:

• The Angel Of Darkness

• The Mad One of The Void

• The Mad Trickster

• The Mad One

• The Trickster of Madness

• The Bane of All

• The Lord of the Citadel of Madness

♧ Gender: Agender

♧ Preferred Pronouns: He/They

♧ Race: Old One

♧ Sexuality: Grey-Asexual; Aromantic

♧ Ethnicity: Will appear Kiyese in a human guise

♧ Height: 7'02 in his true appearance; 6'03.5 in a human appearance

♧ Age Appearance: In a human guise he appears in his late thirties, early forties.

♧ True Appearance: Dámianus is said to take after his mother more than his father. From his father he inherited the smooth rounded ears and slim, nearly hairless tail with a tuft of black fur at the tip. As the natural red eyes he possesses. He's rather slim, but tall, with pale skin. He possesses a set of dark wings that tend to drag behind him and are rarely used. For the most part, humanoid.

♧ Human Appearance: For the life of me, I cannot find out their name, so if anyone knows it please tell me.

♧ Key Personality Traits: Manipulative, Cunning, Brilliant, Quick-witted, Vengeful, Well Mannered

♧ Alignment: Lawful Evil

♧ Parents:

• Rihtyxr, father

• Unknown mother

♧ Siblings:

• Hinvyka, brother

• Kysia, sibling

• Tysie, sister

• Nevzan, brother

• Makjo, brother [deceased]

• Mal'rybos, brother

• Slyra, brother [deceased]

• A several hundred other siblings

♧ Partner(s):

• Misam

♧ Other Blood Relations:

• Tyronjis, uncle

• Kaiuroga, aunt

• Arz-Ler'erso, uncle

• Trik'Rjrkite, uncle

• Au-Zaiur'hka, aunt

• Rons'ta, uncle

• Gazini, cousin

• Ao-Ao, cousin

• Eoau, cousin

• Ny'jsetti, cousin

• Jitka Shirin, nanny, sister and maternal figure

♧ Allies:

• Isfétte

• Jitka Shirin

• Kregznic

• Marzomme

• E'aligesri

• Rohabizal

• Ao-Ao

• Eoau

• Gazini

• Jinx

• Ianira

• Misam

• Mehpijka'om

• Eskrja

• Grumpy

• A few hundred others I haven't fleshed out

♧ Enemies:

• Rons'ta

• Tyronjis

• Kaiuroga

• Arz-Ler'erso

• Trik'Rjrkite

• Au-Zaiur'hka

• Rihtyxr

♧ Brief Backstory:

The eldest of Rihtyxr's hundreds of children, Dámianus always served closer as an errand boy than a son. He grew up fast, without the choice of a childhood, to take care of his siblings. Early on, he accepted his role in the family and gracefully handled the responsibilities thrusted onto him. The older— maturer— he became, the more he would distant himself form his family and those family ties. He treated his family like colleagues and allies and not a family.

Only by the influence of Jitka and Isfétte would Dámianus finally accept his gifts and natural talent as a mastermind, and one manipulative son of a bitch. With their assistance and guidance, he would hone his talent to have power over them. When he finally held a strong belief in himself, he set himself to the task of consuming power. Slowly, he turned the allies of his family against them, buying their loyalty to serve him.

With the dependence the family held on him to make their plans and ensure their survival, he was able to trick them. He fooled them into going to war with Khaalida, and trapped them under her watch. The power vacuum was his for the taking... But he decided to play the long game. He allowed his siblings to fight for the power, and he accompanied his cousin— G'javinizia — on his travels across the multi-verse for a time. To further his own knowledge and powers.

When he finally became confident in himself once more, he returned. He got his old allies in line and began to form new ones. And soon, he finally began to get involved in the affair of Viogia to plant his influence. When his influence was sewn deep, Dámianus created his human guise and entered, to act first hand and began inacting the plans he had started so long ago.

♧ Weapon of Choice:

• Roibac'da, The Whip of Insanity

• Tac'bet, a sentient chain

• A set of chained gloves

• His signature cloak

• His sword collection

• A treasured fan he's gifted to his partner

♧ Classification: Trickster

♧ Power Domain: Madness, Trickery, Illusion, Psychic, Enchantment, Time, Wishes

♧ Playlist:

• Burn, Beth Crowley

• Where The Lonely Ones Roam, Digital Daggers

• Coming Home, Avenged Sevenfold

• Feeling Good, Michael Buble

• Broken Crown, Mumford and Sons

• Leader of the Broken Hearts, Papa Roach

• Centuries, Fall Out Boys

• Everyone Wants To Rule The World, Future Royalty

• When You're Evil, Voltaire

• You're Gonna Go Far Kid, The Offspring

• Hard To Kill, Beth Crowley

• Trouble, Valerie Broussard

• You Can Run, Adam Jones

• The Dark Ones, Karliene

• Keep You Safe, Crane Wives

• She Lit A Fire, Lord Huron

• Control, Halsey

• Castle, Halsey

• Monster, Imagine Dragons

• When The Day Comes, Nico and Vinz

• Last One Standing, Simple Plan

• Soldier's Dance, Adrisaurus

• Final Warning, Skylar Grey

• Angel of Darkness, Alex C

• Meet Me On The Battlefield, SVRCINA

• Night Of The Hunter, 30 Seconds To Mar

• Bad Man, King 810

• Throne, Bring Me The Horizon

• I'd Love To Change The World, King 810

♧ Current Wip: Coming Home [CH], The Legacy of Vires Ius [TSOVI], Mercy No More [MNO], A Rope In Hand [ARIH]; he's likely to appear in all of my wips in Viogia as a source of problem starter.

COMING HOME:

THE LEGACY OF VIRES IUS:

A ROPE IN HAND:

GENERAL:

ON ALL:

♧ Some fun facts!

• He has a pet cat named Grumpy, it's based off a displacer beast!

• He takes a shot of whiskey every time one of his idiots does something stupid.

• He's a man that just wants a vacation at this point, somewhere nice and quiet, a distant beach, without responsibilities.

• He says he doesn't like children, but if given the opportunity he'd probably adopt an entire orphanage or seventy.

• The only people he will possibly listen to, to get him to back down from doing something, is Jitka and Isfétte.

• He knows how to hold a grudge. It doesn't matter how many years it takes, he'll get payback... In an extreme fashion that is probably unwarranted in that degree.

• Given the chance, he would kill 96% of his siblings and family...

• Although he's the source of major chaos in the universe, he cares deeply for order and rules.

• In public he will dress in tailcoats, but as long as he's home he prefers to wear a variety of kimonos.

• The only way you can upset him is by: mentioning Rons'ta in his presence, favoring his siblings in his presence, dissing his nanny, being disrespectful towards women when he's around, hurting and/or belittling children and animals in his presence. And then, and only then, he'll kill you without remorse!

15 notes · View notes

itsuki-minamy · 4 years

Text

FOUR SEASONS OF K: “CHRISTMAS EVE NIGHTMARE”

Translation: Naru-kun

Raws: Ridia

"Fufufufufufun, fufufufufufufun..."

Buzzing that sounds like a song, Gojo Sukuna suddenly stopped his hand and looked up.

It is a song that he often hears about seasonal patterns. The title is certainly "Jingle Bells". It is one of the Christmas songs that exists. The singing voice entered the room, holding a Christmas tree that exceeds his height.

"Fufufufufufu, Fufufufufufufufufufufu..."

"What's wrong, Iwa-san?"

At Sukuna's faint voice, Iwafune Tenkei takes a look at the other side of the Christmas tree.

Iwafune, with a smile, had a Christmas hat on his head.

"What did you decide? Ready for Christmas!"

"No, well, I can see it."

"Then don't play, help me. I'm busy now."

Saying that, Iwafune started putting a Christmas tree in the corner of the room.

He opens a cardboard box to the side, pulls the electrical decoration inside, and begins to wrap around the tree.

Seeing the view, Sukuna sighed.

How many people would think this guy is the sixth king, the Gray King? It's easy to do housework with beer in one hand, but today's Iwafune can only be seen as a full-fledged father who is excited about decorating for Christmas.

"That, Iwa-san. Are we "Jungle"?"

"Hmm, yeah. What's wrong with that?"

"They are lurking underground and trying to destroy the order they are in, but they are sad and have to celebrate Christmas. Rather, should we blow a gold or blue bubble while the world is floating?"

As soon as he said that, the door to the "Secret Base" opened again. At the same time there is a voice.

"I am back, Iwa-san, Sukuna."

"What did you see? Was it okay?"

It is Hisui Nagare, the king of "Jungle", and the strongest executive, Mishakuji Yukari. Sukuna rolled his eyes to ask them to say something to this old man.

And the open mouth was not blocked.

Both Nagare and Yukari had red Christmas hats attached to their heads.

Iwafune welcomes you in a good mood.

"Oh Nagare and Mishakuji-chan, it was bad that you had to go to the materials warehouse."

"Because it's for Christmas, so I expect a little effort. Right, Nagare-chan?"

"Affirmative. I can't help feeling that this season has come."

After seeing the two laughing smiles, Sukuna gently closed his mind and turned back to the game screen.

But just because Sukuna closed his heart, time didn't stop and "Jungle" executives had fun conversations in the background.

"By the way, what about the cake and turkey arrangements?"

"Leave it to me. I'll use my arm to do it!"

“As expected, I am looking forward to it. If you need to buy ingredients, don't hesitate to tell me."

“The purchase must be left to the clan member. It is an important mission, so let's make sure the U-Rank is solid.”

Not good. Just listening makes him feel dizzy.

Sukuna closed the game console and got up.

He tries to walk as he was, standing with his prone eyes to avoid eye contact as much as possible,

"By the way, Sukuna. Did you decide on a gift for Santa?"

He was caught like something natural.

"What?"

"No, then it is a gift. I wonder if there is anything you want."

Iwafune is smiling.

If Yukari had said so, Sukuna would judge that he was "teasing", would immediately kick him, cursing, and would have quickly left this place. Perhaps that was the wisest decision.

But, nevertheless, Iwafune was "serious".

Seriously trying to give Sukuna a gift. Even if Sukuna himself didn't want it, Iwafune wants to give a gift. Maybe on Christmas Day he'll dress up as Santa, put a present in his socks, and leave after Sukuna has fallen asleep.

No, those socks don't work with Sukuna,

"Hey! Is it a huge sock? Most of these things go in so you can ask for whatever you want?"

Prepared.

Wearing socks that seemed to be the size of a pillowcase, Sukuna stood in front of a smiling Iwafune. He feels discouraged by treating him as an insidious person, and he feel something different "riding". If he does that, he will likely be caught at Christmas. He does not want to be involved.

Then Sukuna replied,

"Eh... no, I really don't want anything..."

The answer is clear. He had nothing he wanted, and he wanted to leave it alone if possible, so he just wanted to leave it as it was.

However, Iwafune had a wolf expression.

"Well that's not true. If you're a kid, you can have as many things as you want. Anything's fine. Toys, plastic models, soccer balls, baseball gloves, etc."

Every choice is old.

Sukuna shook her head and replied clearly.

"I don't need all of that... I buy it if I want to."

Iwafune looks at Sukuna dazedly.

With a desperate look, Sukuna tried to leave the room in a hurry.

Immediately before opening the door, Sukuna suddenly thought and turned around. He thought he should say this to the stunned Iwafune. He need to make it clear why Santa doesn't stand next to the bed.

"And I've said it many times, but don't treat me like a child. I'm not old enough to believe in Santa Claus, I'm older."

Looking back later, it was an obvious reason that it became a pressure word.

But, he doesn’t notice Sukuna at the time. He felt compassion for Iwafune, who was backing off after being in shock, but decided that he wasn't saying anything wrong, so he turned his back on him and left.

Of course, there is no need for Sukuna to know what kind of conversation they had, Iwafune, Nagare, and Mishakuji.

++++++++++

And that day has arrived.

February 24th. Christmas Eve, same day.

After leaving "Secret Base" early in the morning, Sukuna intended to complete some missions. The truth is that he did not want to be in a "secret base" that seems to be Christmas.

However, the world is much more floating than the world.

There are Christmas songs everywhere, and the red and green lights are smoky throughout the city. Only families and couples are on the road, swaying with happy smiles as if it were a must. There are no children who go alone like Sukuna.

A sniffling nose turned white in the cold of winter.

Sukuna hated Christmas.

No matter how joyous and happy people in the host country smile, it seemed like a fake thing. Probably because of his mother.

Sukuna's mother was a vain woman. Perhaps because she was an ordinary person, she was proud of herself in decorating herself.

Seasonal events were a great way to learn about the vanity of such a mother. Every time there was a gathering of celebrities from around the world and a party at home, she was touched by the reconfirmation of her power.

Sukuna was also just an ornament to show her superiority.

As he stood as a figure in the center of the party, with cold eyes, Sukuna looked at a glitter decorated Christmas tree, and a mountain of gift boxes.

Silly rampage of silly adults. That is Christmas for Sukuna.

He doesn't hate destroying it aggressively, but he can't be obedient enough to make a noise.

Sukuna opened the PDA and dropped his line of sight.

"Even on a day like this, there are plenty of people logging in."

Do you hate Christmas as much as Sukuna, or don't you dislike it, but are you looking the other way?

Especially for the best ranges, there are a lot of people online. Sukuna contacted several of them for the mission and responded immediately. Maybe it's because he seems more energetic than usual.

"Well do you want to go?"

Muttering a soliloquy, Sukuna looks up.

It will not destroy Christmas, but if the world is in the air, there is no reason not to take advantage of that opportunity. The important thing for Sukuna now is that "Jungle" can fulfill its ambitions and achieve innovation for all humanity. For that, they must do everything they can.

Sukuna paced in front of the court, leaning back against the hustle and bustle of the city, and quickly started walking.

When he completed two micro-attack mechanics and a steal mission, the sun was already down.

At night, the Christmas glow seems to accelerate. The avalanche of people well stirred the work of Sukuna and others. When he thought the Blues would be investigating in a hurry these days, an icy smile appeared on Sukuna's mouth.

There are dozens in Tokyo, enter the entrance to the "secret base" and Sukuna opens the PDA. He stepped into the elevator that goes underground, giving clan members who became high-ranking members a reward for success.

Are Nagare, Mishakuji and Iwa no longer excited about Christmas parties?

Along with the feeling that he doesn’t want to see it, the feeling that he wants to take a look at it a bit. He was curious about how they were spending Christmas Eve, what the party aligned.

But he can no longer show his face. Nagare will not say anything. Mishakuji can laugh with his nose. Iwa-san will surely be happy to raise his hands. It was he who expected Christmas more than anyone.

When he thought about it, he didn't feel like grimacing. The face is a little different from being uncomfortable. Feel like he doesn’t want to be dyed at Christmas.

He thinks about this and other things. So he doesn’t like this season

The sound of the bell rang out to drown out such thoughts.

The place where he steps is the “Jungle” hideout, which is a remodeled water storage facility that was abandoned during construction. The huge and majestic columns are like a majestic temple. While confirming the signs of those illuminated pillars, Sukuna tried to proceed.

At that moment, the light disappeared with a noise.

"Eh?"

He go down reflexively and jump into the shadow of a nearby pillar. He can drop the long pole, but pulling out the electromagnetic blade is weightless. It is advisable to hide his place until the next action.

While holding his breath and looking around, Sukuna tries to resolve the situation. It's okay to contact an accident, an enemy attack, or just a power outage or storm once the situation is known. So the next action to take...

When he thought this far, the sound came from above.

Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, the song he listens to a lot today.

Suddenly, a searchlight flashed on top of the pillar. A shadow emerges in the light that pierces the darkness. Sukuna looked at him and then opened his mouth.

It is a sledge.

A streamlined sled appears between the pillars and reflectors. The joyous sound of the bell seems to come from there. The voices of the sled rider and the promising person resonate in the sound.

"Ho, ho, ho!"

Above the weakened Sukuna, the sled descends slowly, drawing a spiral that clings to it. When he landed in front of him, a rider jumped off the sled.

Of course it was Santa Claus.

He wears striking red and white outfit, a Christmas cap on his head and sunglasses in his rich white beard, perhaps to hide his face. Sukuna thinks it is a waste of effort.

Santa pinches his long beard and talks cheerfully.

"Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas, Sukuna!"

"What are you doing, Iwa-san?"

Sukuna's ruthless voice, but Santa was not afraid. Exaggeratedly he stretches out his arms and shakes his head.

"Iwa-san~ Who is that? I'm Santa Claus! I brought you a gift."

Wow...

"Have you been a good boy for a year? No, you should have been! So Santa Claus will give you whatever you want as a gift. What do you want? Whatever!"

He puts her hands over his ears, approaches him. Far from being a good boy, he has had a criminal life in recent months, but he can't stop when he says something like that.

Sukuna looked him up and down for a moment and then shook his cane.

"Yes."

"Wow, what? Ah, what's going on?"

Avoiding him in a dangerous place, he suddenly found the raw material of the Bandai Ten-Dori. The Christmas hat dances in the air, revealing the "Ho, ho." family. Sukuna leans on the long cane over his shoulder and says coldly.

"I already told you I didn't want anything. If there was, I would get it myself."

"Uh..."

The ruthless words reduced Santa Iwafune's momentum. Sukuna looks away from the depressed Santa Claus, telling him to throw it away.

"If you want to do whatever you want, leave me alone. It's that easy, isn't it?"

With all this said, Sukuna started walking.

There is no sign that Iwafune is following him. What was it, muttering in his chest. Iwafune's purpose is unclear. There is no way to make fun of himself. If so, do he really want Sukuna to enjoy Christmas? But for what?

He couldn't afford to be fooled by that question forever.

Something entered quietly, because it squeezed Sukuna's cheek and pierced the ground.

"What? Well, again?"

Sukuna suddenly braced himself for battle, but at a glance at the pierced thing, he immediately weakened.

It was a Yukari cover-up.

A joyous voice echoes from above.

"Ho, hoo, hoo! Merry Christmas, Sukuna-chan!"

Although Iwafune was also common, there seems to be no intention to hide it from the start. As usual, wear a domino mask and a Christmas hat as an excuse.

If he goes that far, he suspects it could be new harassment.

"Yukari, stop...!"

"Ho, ho, ho. You don't believe in Christmas. This me that appeared in front of you that is pathetic, call me Beauty ☆ Santa. Say what you want!"

"That's why I say no!"

When he shouts that, the purple cloak flew out again. As if to chase Sukuna who quickly evacuated, several pillars penetrate the concrete floor. Shaking his fingers with his arms crossed, Mishakuji Santa has a playful tone,

"I am not honest, Iwa-san was sweet, but I am not. I have to punish rude children."

"You know this is the end of your life, right...?"

It doesn't stop there. Sukuna turned around and ran like a rabbit.

"Oh, chasing me? It's a reckless move for a holy night, but that's your wish!"

Sukuna runs. Run. Without waving his eyes, he runs in the form of a demon with a wooded pillar as a shield.

While listening to the noise behind him, Sukuna is desperate.

"What? What's wrong? What's chasing me?”

Is it a sin that he did not celebrate Christmas? He couldn't afford to ask that question, and even if he did, there would be no answer.

Finally, Sukuna's view reflected a building that mimicked a wooden apartment. It is a space where executives from the "secret base" of "Jungle" meet.

The word "if Nagare is here" came to his mind. Nagare would stop this madness. After all, he is the Green King. It would be the role of the king to maintain the frenzy of the clan members.

Sukuna entered the "secret base", holding on to one hope. Almost on all fours, Sukuna echoes in a narrow room like an apartment.

"Hey, please help me, Nagare! Iwa-san and Yukari are...!"

"Ho, ho, ho."

And Sukuna knew that all his hopes were dead.

There was a Nagare there. He wears a Christmas hat, a white beard, and for some reason keeps his restraint clothes on, and has his body wrapped in an electrical decoration like a Christmas tree. No matter how he looks at it from any direction, as much as he says something about the case, it seems like Nagare won't do anything.

"Merry Christmas, Sukuna. Let me give you what you want. It's a gift. Think carefully about what you want."

There was something that came to Sukuna's mind, like a revelation, with his mouth half open.

Maybe... this nightmare won't end until I say "yes"?

Feel a signal behind. Two Santas in the back door and a Santa in the front door. Soon after speaking to madness, Sukuna spoke the word.

"Merry Christmas... I give up...!"

++++++++++

"So…"

A "secret base" as if nothing had happened. In front of the kotatsu with cakes and turkey.

"In the end, what did you want to do?"

Sukuna remains the same, he said reluctantly.

Although he gave in, his heart has not changed. Once resolved, it was reasonable to reopen dissatisfaction and doubt. However, in return, the Christmas hat is on Sukuna's head.

"Oh, we didn't want to do anything else. Just keep Iwa-san's hopes up, right, Nagare-chan?"

"Affirmative. Iwa-san really wanted Sukuna to know about Christmas fun, so we cooperated."

Sukuna looks at Iwafune. A cold look tells him that it is the worst. Holding a beer in one hand, he said, "Hey, here."

"It is sad that a child like you cannot wait for Christmas. I wanted you to know that Christmas is bright, fun and warm."

That is why Sukuna's mouth, who told him not to treat him like a child, closed when he heard Iwafune's words.

"He used to give gifts to children when I was a king, and even when they were not happy children, his eyes sparkled with excitement when opening the gifts."

Sukuna also does not know the details of the "Gray King" Otori Seigo and his "Cathedral" clan. However, it was rather an organization that helped the less powerful.

"Even if they are stolen, lost, or abandoned, at Christmas they can forget all of that and smile. Even a one-night dream is better than not seeing it, right? That's why I wanted you to have that kind of experience too."

"Cathedral" was destroyed by the fall of Genji Kagutsu's Damocles sword. The whereabouts of Otori Seigo were never known.

When he thought about it, he didn't feel angry. He turned and snorted.

"What was a nightmare that I saw?"

"Wow, it was bad! It was kind of silly."

"Well that's fine, but is it really something?"

At Sukuna's words, Iwafune was silent. Being embarrassed, Sukuna says angry.

"It's a gift. You said you can do anything. I said it once, so I'll have you ready for anything."

When Sukuna said that, Iwafune's expression was shining. It's like he has a gift.

"Oh, of course! Tell me something!"

"Hmm."

As she huffed, Sukuna's lips slightly collapsed.

If he has been very angry about vanity and pretentious Christmas, but if he can have such true feelings, it must be a brilliant gift despite everything.

While cutting the turkey, Sukuna slowly began to think in his head what kind of gift he would receive.

#k #k project #K stories #k fan clan #jungle #hisui nagare #iwafune tenkei #mishakuji yukari #gojou sukuna

37 notes · View notes

jejublr · 4 years

Text

The Matchmaker | 02

Character(s): Royal!Seungcheol x Reader

Genre: Romance, Drama

Words: 2K words.

Summary: In which Seungcheol is a King and you’re the Matchmaker trying to convince him that matchmaking might not be a horrible idea after all. Question is: can you do it without falling in love?

a/n: *in wonwoo’s voice* ur going to fast bb. idk what’s wrong bb. bc i like my fics confusing and disorganized so i’m sorry ur eyes have to look at this mess.

The Matchmaker Masterlist

In the warm fire glow, two men sat across from each other. One is a young man, his sharp features highlighted in a soft glow and the other an old but stately man with a regal bearing. In front of them is a game of chess that was long forgotten. The older man seemed to be lost in his own thoughts while the younger one tried not to fidget from the silence.

Lord Jeonghan didn’t expect the former king, now a Duke, to invite him to a game of chess in the royal library when he requested to meet him in person. It wasn’t like he rarely met him in person. The Diamánti palace is like his second home at this point. He would sometimes cross paths with the Duke and maybe join him for dinner, but when a royal invites you formally, chances are they wanted to discuss something.

But now that the Duke has left him in silence, he doesn’t know what to do.

“Tell me, Lord Jeonghan,” the Duke started, startling him. “What do you think about my son?”

“Your Grace?”

“My son. Seungcheol. You’re his closest confidante. I want to know what you think of him.”

Jeonghan shifted his feet.“Oh, um. As a King—“

The Duke shook his head. “I’m not talking about him as a King. I’m talking about him as a man.”

“Oh.” That’s unexpected, but an easy task. Heknows Seungcheol almost as well as he knows his own sister. “In my opinion, he is honest and put the well-being of others before himself. I think you can see it yourself but he’s also very selfless and caring. He can be stubborn but he means well. I have no doubt that he is a good person, Your Grace.”

The Duke hummed in contemplation, nodding along.

“Stubborn. Yes, yes. As expected from a son of mine but it does...annoy me a lot of times.” The old man grunted, his face twinged with a slight annoyance. “All I ask from him was to find someone to marry! How hard can it be? Doesn’t every person wants to get married at some point of their life?”

‘Ah,’ Jeonghan smiled to himself. ‘So that’s what he wanted to talk about.’

“I am tired, Jeonghan. And I am old.” The Duke stood out of his seat with a shaky sigh. With his cane, he staggered towards the window with Jeonghan hovering behind him. “I know I can’t control him when it comes to the matter of love but sometimes I wonder why he’s so stubborn. There are plenty of fine ladies to choose from but why won’t he? I know he is my son but sometimes I wonder what’s going on inside his head!”

“That’ll make the two of us, Your Highness.” Jeonghan chuckled.

Anyone who had lived their whole life around Seungcheol would know how stubborn the man can be. As a Lord and right hand man to the throne, Jeonghan out of everyone would know the King better than anyone. He can’t even lie to himself that Seungcheol sometimes make him feel like he’s much older than he actually is. It wouldn’t be a surprise if his hair is greying soon.

There was a brief silence as the King gazed upon the gardens from the safety of his window, his old eyes faraway. “I suppose you don’t know any alternative methods that he would be interested in? Perhaps my outdated ways had made him reject the idea of courting someone?”

Jeonghan squinted in thought. “Well…”

The Duke perked up at the tiny possibility in his voice and turned to Jeonghan. “Well?”

‘I’m sorry, Cheol.’ The blond apologized internally. It’s not like he has a choice. Partly because he’s cornered by the Duke himself and partly because...well, he agrees with the Duke.

Seungcheol has quite a few reasons why he’s so adamant to marry so soon. His worries are valid, of course, but it has gone past the point of reason. At this point, Seungcheol is basically lost in his own paranoia. Maybe someone professional would be able to find him someone who can pull him out of it.

Not only that, but if Seungcheol doesn’t come up with a possible bride soon, he won’t be able to ascend to the throne and the crown would be passed down to the next-in-line. Which doesn’t seem like a good idea because Lord Dorian is a drunkard and a recluse.

Jeonghan reached into his trousers and pulled out his phone.

“If you’d allow me, sir?” he asked and the former king gestured, giving him the permission to do whatever he was going to. The Duke waited patiently as he typed away on the gadget.

It only took him seconds to find the web page that he’s looking for and showed it to the Duke.

He reeled slightly at his proposal. “A professional matchmaking service?”

There was a slight hesitation in his voice but the Lord is desperate. So much so that he would take any means—any means—to find his son someone worthy of a companion.

“Yes, Your Grace,” Jeonghan nodded. “My friend Soonyoung used this very service. He just got married last month.”

The Duke met his gaze. “Tell me more about it.”

It wasn’t until the night of the coronation that Seungcheol himself found out about his father’s plans.

And he’s not very glad about it.

“But a matchmaker? Father, I don’t think it is a good idea.” Seungcheol had a bad feeling the moment his father pulled him aside into the throne room, away from prying eyes of the banquet.

The former King grunted, almost rolling his eyes at his son’s feeble excuse. Of course his son would think that.

“I know you might be unhappy with the predicament but I’m doing this for your own good.” The Duke grabbed his son by the shoulder, looking into his eyes. “I know you don’t like this and I wish I didn’t have to do this. But neither of us is getting younger. You’re not even trying to look for someone. I’m getting old, son. I’m afraid my years are numbered. I just…”

“Just what, Father?” Seungcheol’s brown eyes searched his and for a very brief moment, they reminded him of his late wife.

Oh, his lovely Haneul. It’s as if he can still see her in his memories. The loveliest, rarest flower of them all.

He sees her in Seungcheol. Her selflessness. Her kindness. Her smile. Unfortunately, he could also see how disappointing he has been as a father in him, too. The rage in his son’s eyes, the distrust. He couldn’t blame him after the years of emotional neglect.

And now, as he gazed into his son’s eyes, he felt as if he’s betraying her.

His own marriage was based on love. He already loved his wife before he became King and they had gotten married shortly after his own coronation. It felt unfair and unjust to force his son to marry when he has not even found somebody.

In a way, it felt like betraying his own wife. She would have wanted Seungcheol to marry for love.

The Duke frowned. “Nevermind. You can complain all you want but you know that it must be done. Consider this a favor as you seem to be having troubles finding someone yourself. You should be expecting the matchmaker to arrive in a month or two. Before then, I hope you will be preparing yourself.”

“I—” Seungcheol started but meeting his father’s stern gaze, he visibly deflated. He might be King but his father is his father. “Yes, Father.”

Jeonghan winced when the door opened harshly. Seungcheol walked out very quickly but silently, obviously in anger, and he quickly caught up to him. “What happened?”

“Apparently my father has hired a professional matchmaking service to help me find a potential queen.” He scoffed, fists balled at his side. He kept walking although Jeonghan was sure that he had no particular destination in his mind. He just wanted to get away from his father and there was no way that he’ll return to the ball with his emotions out of place. “I know he’s been pestering me about this for so long but what had gotten into him? This is just so out of the blue!”

Jeonghan didn’t know what to say since well, he was the one who suggested the Duke about the matchmaking. Noticing his best friend’s oddly quiet behavior, Seungcheol cast a sidelong glance at the light-haired Lord.

“Jeonghan, don’t tell me you have something to do with this?”

“Well, I’d never thought he’d take it seriously—“

Seungcheol grinded his teeth. “You traitor.”

Jeonghan stopped walking, arms spread in exasperation. “I didn’t know what to do! Your father summoned me out of the blue and started asking me questions and—“

Seungcheol raised a finger at him, face scrunched and clearly trying very hard not to let his temper get out of hand. “Jeonghan, just—shut up. You know how I feel about getting married. I’m not ready. How could you betray me like this?”

“I didn’t mean it like that and you know it.” Jeonghan’s face was cool and controlled but his voice pleading.

And Seungcheol understands where he’s coming from, which made him even angrier because he knows that sooner or later, he wouldn’t be able to run away from what’s expected from him anymore.

Finally, the King turned away. “I need some time alone.”

Jeonghan stood for a while longer, but he knows that he should go. Talking to Seungcheol is pointless when he’s so caught up in his emotions. He watched as his best friend walk away.

Seungcheol ended up walking without direction. He’s as aimless as he felt inside, mind still reeling from what just happened. He only realized that he’d walked all the way to the west wing of the palace when he looked up to see a row of portraits of past kings and royalties.

Seungcheol rarely goes to this side of the palace. He always felt a little creeped out by the stern faces of past kings. He felt as if their steely gaze follow him whenever he passes this side of the palace. But that isn’t the only reason why he rarely goes here

His eyes stared up at a large portrait of a beautiful woman in purple.

Another reason why Seungcheol rarely goes to the west wing of the palace is because of her.

Kang Haneul. The late Queen of Cordovia.

Looking at her portrait is almost like looking at a mirror. People often say he reminds them of her and right now, the thought only made him scoff despite the signs of tears prickling in the back of his eyes.

Why does he think of her the most when he’s hurt?

As a child, Seungcheol has been the closest to his mother. He loved his father but his mother was the one who’s always been there for him. She was the one who knows him best, who understood him the most.

They’re like the two sides of the same coin. Inseparable. Wherever she went, he followed.

Seungcheol might not be the closest with his father back then but he always remembered him to be a jovial person. He was the most jovial; all of his antics were passed down from his father. But ever since his mother died, his father gone distant.

All his needs are met, of course. But they rarely talk and when they do, it was kind of awkward. His father doesn’t laugh as often as he used to and even if he does, it doesn’t seem as bright.

It’s like the day his mother died, a part of his father did, too.

So, Seungcheol is afraid.

There’s nothing more he wanted than to become a better King. And maybe, just maybe, a better father.

Being a King is already a lonely feeling. He doesn’t think he can handle heartbreak. He doesn’t want to be like his father.

It’s during quiet moments like these that Seungcheol felt most like a child, with his mother’s kind smile gazing down on him. So in a soft but broken whisper, Seungcheol rasped out.

“Mother, what should I do?”

Next - 03. The King

#seventeen #seungcheol #s.coups #seventeen au #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenarios #seungcheol au #s.coups au #seungcheol imagine #seungcheol fic #s.coups scenarios #seventeen fic #seungcheol scenarios #royal au #royal!seungcheol #royal!s.coups

51 notes · View notes

nadziejastar · 4 years

Link

That moment, a ball rolled up and bumped into Roxas’ foot.

“Scuse me!” A boy came running up.

“Hayner, not again!”

Behind him, a girl came running, and then following her, a slightly chubby boy.

Roxas picked up the ball at his feet, and threw the ball back to the boy and his friends. The three dipped their heads in a bow, and ran away again with the ball.

“—They’d be around the same age as me, wouldn’t they,” Roxas muttered.

“Huh?” Axel asked, and Roxas wondered if he hadn’t caught it.

“Nothing.” Roxas shook his head slightly and started walking. Roxas turned to watch the pigeons in front take flight.

Thank you for another interesting video. The Youtuber said that RAX just eating ice cream didn’t really make them feel that close. He said it could have worked if being in the organization seemed REALLY that bad and ice cream was the only thing they had in life to give them pleasure. I actually did get the impression that ice cream was all they had. But I think the little short story “Roxas: Somewhere in Time” did a better job showing just how bored and unhappy Roxas was with the monotony of his organization life. That’s how I think they originally intended the Axel/Roxas friendship to be before they came up with the idea of Xion.

“I wonder whether it’d be fun to fly like that.”

“—It’d be fun, I guess,” Axel replied, taking a bite of his ice cream.

“I wonder how long it’ll be okay to do this.”

Axel stared at Roxas. Maybe Roxas is feeling the build up of doing the same kind of missions day after day. Every day, Roxas was given the same mission, to subdue heartless. But it couldn’t be helped, Axel thought. Roxas was special. To the Organisation, and to Axel. Just like how the Organisation can’t let Roxas know anything, I don’t think I’ll let him know anything myself.

This is betraying Roxas, isn’t it?

“We might not always be able to be together,” murmured Axel, without realising.

“Huh?” This time, it was Roxas who looked at Axel.

“What’s with you, don’t make such a scary face.”

Axel turned his face away from Roxas, and bit his ice cream. Roxas didn’t know of Axel’s unrest. And, Axel didn’t know of Roxas’ unrest.

This story takes place the day after Axel comes back from Castle Oblivion. Roxas sees Hayner, Pence, and Olette playing ball and then wonders just how long he can keep doing what he’s doing. He’d rather play with them–kids his own age. Axel knew that. He knew Roxas was unhappy. He was lying to Roxas so he wouldn’t leave. He knew if Roxas had the choice, he would leave him. Their friendship was not strong enough for Roxas to stick around just for him. Axel ALSO knew that their arrangement was living on borrowed time. He and Roxas simply weren’t gonna be together forever and there would come a time when they’d go their separate ways. They friendship wasn’t super cuddly or cutesy, nor was it particularly intimate. But it was interesting.

I actually should not exist. I was just a doll. I chose to disappear because I did not want to become what Xemnas had planned for me. Therefore, I had no regrets. I remember disappearing in front of the clock tower while Roxas held me. Roxas also went to sleep afterwards, leaving Axel alone. The person who probably suffered the most was Axel. Because he’s the one who forgot the most. Being forgotten and forgetting, they’re both painful. I am a bit uncertain whether I should actually exist or not. Sometimes, even if for a fleeting moment, I feel that I truly should not be here.

To address his point about Xion: I was honestly fine with the fact that Xion felt like a living plot device and that she felt like just another version of Kairi. I don’t think she was supposed to feel distinct from Kairi. That defeats the point. He also said that she needed more inner conflict about helping Sora wake up because it made her death scene less effective. I disagree with all this.

I think Xion wasn’t supposed to feel completely “human”. Because she’s wasn’t. She was the embodiment of Sora’s memories of Kairi. She’s not really supposed to exist. Even in her Character File story, she doesn’t sound convinced she should really exist. When she disappeared, it was supposed to feel right and natural, like she went back to where she truly belonged. After beating the game, you weren’t supposed to come away with the idea that she was supposed to return and live happily ever after with Roxas and Axel. And that’s how I felt. I was 100% okay with her disappearing at the end and never coming back. Her death scene was beautiful, IMO. When she came back in KH3, it felt tacky and cheapened her whole character.

I completely agree that it is very disappointing that we never got to see the other members’ backstories. KHUX is NOT the right place to explore Marluxia’s past IMO. But I don’t think Days was the right place, either. Many of the members died too quickly (though more could have been done with Demyx and Luxord). I think BBSV2 was meant to be that game he wanted 358/2 Days to be. I’m sure that the Days timeline would be covered in BBSV2. But 358/2 Days was supposed to be about Roxas’s “blank period” in the organization. So, I am okay with it focusing on mostly RAX and, to a lesser extent, Axel/Saix. The rest of the organization’s past required a separate game to do them justice.

“Let’s eat some ice cream. We are best friends. You are right. Ha-ha-ha.”

I loved the part where he did the robot voice making fun of the dialogue in the game. There’s a lot of truth to how forced it was.

“The biggest problem with the friendship between Roxas, Axel, and Xion is how stilted it feels. More often than not, the game just TELLS us what the characters are feeling, instead of letting it be revealed through their actions. We’re continually TOLD how great the trio’s friendship is, yet the only evidence of that is them smiling while eating ice cream.”

This is a quote from the video. I can understand why he feels like this. And to an extent, I agree. But I only agree because I think most of the fandom fundamentally missed what Nomura was trying to do with the sea-salt trio and KH3 didn’t even bother to follow through with the original idea.

“Well, Roxas—why do the three of us eat ice cream together every day in that place?”

“….Huh?” I don’t really get what he’s trying to say.

“I have no use in doing that either, do I? If you think about it, it’s troublesome, right? Do you want me to tell you?”

Roxas looked at Axel, and waited for his answer.

“It’s because we are best friends.”

At least for Axel, the game DIDN’T tell you what he was really feeling. You DID have to look at his actions and read between the lines. That’s what I loved so much about the story.

In KH2, Axel and Roxas were so-called “best friends”. And this is the reason the story of 358/2 Days pushes the idea of “best friends” in such a forced and artificial way. Even in Days, Axel first called them best friends, not spontaneously, but in response to being incredibly hurt by Saix and also from remembering some specific incident from his past.

He wasn’t really supposed to be “best friends” with Roxas and Xion, though (cute as they are). I mean, he’s a GROWN ASS MAN, for crying out loud. Naturally, it’s embarrassing for an adult to be best friends with two kids.

Pathik: The fourth chakra is located in the heart. It deals with love and is blocked by grief. Lay all your grief out in front of you. You have indeed felt a great loss. But love is a form of energy, and it swirls all around us. The Air Nomads’ love for you has not left this world. It is still inside of your heart, and is reborn in the form of new love.

I’m sure a lot of KH fans have seen ATLA. The way Axel/Roxas/Xion was handled really reminded me of how Aang/Katara was handled. I think the audience misunderstood the Aang/Katara relationship and saw it more cutesy and simplistically than it was intended to be. Aang did genuinely love her, just as Axel genuinely loved Roxas and Xion. But at the same time, he was completely obsessed with her, just as Axel was obsessed with Roxas in KH2. Aang was just a kid. In his mind, Katara was his “forever girl” and they were gonna be together forever and ever. He was quite pushy about it at times, just as Axel is quite pushy about how Roxas is his “best friend” in KH2.

Aang: On stage, when you said I was just like a … brother to you, and you didn’t have feelings for me.

Katara: I didn’t say that. An actor said that.

Aang: But it’s true, isn’t it? We kissed at the Invasion, and I thought we were gonna be together. But we’re not.

Katara: Aang, I don’t know.

Aang was infatuated with her from the moment he laid eyes on her. On top of that, he met her just after he ran away from home to avoid his entire life changing and losing everything he knew and everyone he loved. And he wakes up in her arms to find out that all his people were completely wiped out because of that decision. He was all alone in the world and deeply traumatized. And he clung to Katara to avoid facing that loss. Axel also lost everything, including the one person he couldn’t bear to lose. Roxas and Xion were the first people he got close to after his life changed. And he starts realizing how much Saix changed and he can’t cope with the enormity of that loss. He hides all of those feelings, and later becomes obsessed with Roxas to avoid facing them. Very similar idea.

Aang loves Katara but not in the way he should, as it was based on replacing the absence of the Air Nomads, and Guru Pathik believes he never learned what it meant to “let go” of her.

Aang and Katara are not on the same wavelength as there are many times where Katara attempts to shelter him from the harsh realities of life - which creates a chasm between them. Katara discovers she can communicate so much more easily with Zuko, and he with her.

Aang finds out that some of his people were alive all along and just hiding; living their lives for the past hundred years without him. His love for Katara grew from the love of the Air Nomads, so what if his people came back? Would he realize that his love for her was not as genuine as he once thought?

--ATLA cancelled Book 4 plot

Katara never seemed to reciprocate Aang’s romantic feelings. Though only a few years older than him, she was VERY mature for her age. She felt more like his mom than his girlfriend, just like how Axel seemed more like R&X’s dad than their best friend. There was a chasm between them. Katara couldn’t communicate with Aang on her level or confide in him about her own pain, just like how Axel could never communicate with R&X on his level or confide in them about his pain. They were too immature. Aang relied on Katara and took her for granted, and Roxas took Axel for granted. When Aang lost Appa he took all his anger out on Katara, just like how Roxas took all his anger over losing Xion out on Axel.

Aang and Katara had a very wonderful and realistic dynamic, which I liked a lot. It just…wasn’t believable as romantic. And Axel/Xion/Roxas had a very interesting dynamic I liked a lot. But they were just not believable as best friends. They weren’t on the same wavelength and Axel sheltered Roxas from the harsh realities of life, creating a chasm between them. Aang needed to find out his people were still alive in order to cope with his pain and “let go” of Katara. Axel needed to find out that the Isa he remembered was still alive in order to cope with his grief and let go of Roxas.

“He seemed a tiny bit startled as he scanned the room, and his eyes fell on a particular drawing. “This is…me? And that guy Axel…?”

It was Naminé’s drawing of Roxas and Axel, standing side by side.

“You’re best friends,” she said. Right. Those two had been friends—well, Axel believed they still were. Roxas was his only friend and his best. And Axel was the same for Roxas—probably.

I like this passage from the novel. It’s the very first time Axel and Roxas being best friends is mentioned in KH2. Roxas is Axel’s best and only friend. And Naminé figures that Roxas feels the same way… well, probably. What made Axel such an interesting character was that his feelings toward Roxas were one-sided, just like Aang’s feelings for Katara were one-sided. Seeing Roxas again was the only thing that gave his life any meaning. The thing is, Roxas didn’t feel the same way. He cared about Axel, yes. But Roxas would have been VERY uncomfortable and creeped out by Axel’s obsession with him. This is a big problem that NEVER gets addressed or resolved.

On the sofa opposite him, Naminé spoke up instead. “Sora and Riku are best friends.”

Axel’s eyes crinkled as he remembered his own best friend—the only friend he’d ever had, in fact.

“If your best friend goes away, you’re sad, and if you get to be with them, you’re happy,” Naminé added. “Isn’t that how it is, Axel?”

“…That’s about the size of it.” Axel nodded and sat down on the remaining empty sofa, staring at the sea-salt ice cream he held.

“So you are capable of sincerity,” said Riku.

Axel only shrugged at the jab and finished his ice cream pop.

Like Aang, Axel suffered a great loss; the loss of someone he couldn’t bear to lose. And he never dealt with it. Why does Axel feel the need to assert over and over that Roxas is his only friend and his best friend? Because he was using Roxas as a replacement for Isa–his actual best friend. Axel was desperate to fill the void of that intimacy with another best friend.

“Finally awake, huh?”

Roxas looked up. “Axel…”

His only good friend—his best friend—Axel had arrived with two sea-salt ice cream pops.

Roxas is pretty casual saying goodbye in KH2FM. He’s just like like “take care, okay?” He’s smiling and not visibly emotional or anything like he was with Xion. Axel, on the other hand, is reduced to tears. He is most definitely NOT okay. IMO, the problem was not that 358/2 Days didn’t do a good enough job making Axel/Xion/Roxas feel like best friends. The problem is that KH3 still went with the notion that they ever really were best friends to begin with.

5 notes · View notes

hadesglance · 5 years

Text

All hail the new queen... - 15 (Hades Original Story)

You fought your way through the maze of the underworld to make a deal with the King…intrigued the lonely king listens…

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen Part Fourteen

You looked around the room curiously trying guess who everyone was. You were not aware that there were so many gods in the world, especially ones that would recognize Greek traditions. Then again you also didn’t know that new gods could just appear based on how humanity evolved.

You smiled when you looked over at Hades discussing something with a man dressed in thick green leaves from head to toe. Even among his hair the foliage wove itself neatly into a crown among his horns. The man glanced over to you before gently placing a hand on Hades’ arm smiling at him.

Hades looked over to you before his eyes lit up meeting yours, to the man he nodded slowly as they parted ways. He made his way over to you gracefully, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to abandon you. I don’t often get to see Pan anymore.”

“Don’t apologize. He seemed like an interesting fellow.” You gazed up at him feeling your face grow warm. You didn’t know what had come over you in the last few hours, but everything he seemed to do was so much more…exquisite, “This is your party after all, you can do what you like. I’m just an observer.”

“I hope you’re enjoying yourself though…” He spoke with concern as he took your hand sending a shiver down your spine, “I’m afraid we’re stuck here until it’s done.”

“I’ll be alright.” You told him as you squeezed his hand lightly getting a delighted grin in his eyes.

“Come, I want to show you something. You didn’t get a chance to actually see Olympus your first time.” A flashback of fear fell over you as he began to guide you through the crowds. Was that awful duo here? Would they attempt something again? You hoped not.

He pulled out to a balcony showing the night sky. You felt a welcome breeze on your face as you approached the railing. Your mouth dropped slightly as you saw a beautiful cityscape lining a hill that lead to an ocean, “It’s amazing, Hades.”

“It’s a sight.” He nodded slowly looking out over the view, “It’s actually above Greece, right on the mountain, but we’ve transcended the location. I think you might call it a different realm in the same place. Parallel to Earth.”

“Is that how it works?” You looked to him, “Are all godly realms above earth?”

“It can, it’s how we decided to do it at least. Greece was where our worshipers were, why move too far?” He smiled at you as you looked back out at the view, “Most of the gods that reside here now are like us. Believed in enough, but not enough to create their own domain. There are some who have pockets across the world and stars too, but Olympus is kind of a hub now.”

“What about you?” You questioned him, “The Underworld was certainly a real place, but you’ve made it into mansion in my hometown.”

He smirked looking out at the rolling waves, “Well, everyone has an underworld, so I have a greater belief in a way. Some call me by other names, not all good. Some call my residence Vahalla or the life after. Personally, I don’t care about labels, but it allows me to be everywhere.”

“You just want balance.” You whispered as you shivered a little.

“Yes, exactly.” He looked back to you nodding as he unlatched his cape. He stepped closer to you draping it around your shoulders. You thanked him quietly pulling it close as you looked back to the view, “You’re troubled?”

“Yes…” You nodded slowly forcing a smile before you looked up to him, “But it can wait. You’ve promised to talk to me later about it, so I can wait a while longer.”

“It’s about everyone thinking you’re my wife?” You nodded looking to the railing as you began to pick at it, “We can talk now if you’d like.”

You looked up to him lips parting slightly. There was this glimmer in his eyes. You only ever saw it briefly when you were at home, but recently you’d begun to see it more often. Tonight, it showed itself so brightly. It made him look so handsome, so likable. Who wouldn’t want to be his wife?

But that wasn’t your deal…was it? He wanted a companion…a friend… You supposed a wife could be those things, but… Who were you kidding you were bound to him for the rest of your life. If it’s what he wanted, then so be it.

“I…” You began to tell him just that when a sickening voice interrupted you.

“Ahhh, here’s the main event.” You watch Hades’ face stiffen at the sound of Meedia’s voice, “Quite a different story this year…at least that’s what everyone’s saying. Mind if I take it and pitch to a few writers? Might make you a bit more sympathetic to the world.”

“If it will make you cease this conversation and leave us alone Media, then by all means…use my personal tragedies for you benefit and begone.” Hades moved protectively in front of you as you felt your arm begin to burn lightly from the mark he’d given you.

She wore a sick smile as the strode forward. The tight black leather dress she wore creaked with each stiletto clack before she stopped nose to nose with him, “It’s Meedia, and you should watch yourself. You might be the first son…but you’re certainly no king.”

“Watch yourself young one.” His eyes narrowed on her face, “You tend to step out of line, do it too many times and you’ll find yourself some place you can’t return from.”

“Oh, so scary coming from a man with daddy issues. Your brother gave you the Underworld, labeled you a king, but he just wanted you out of the way.” She smirked glancing over his shoulder, “And from what I understand you need a meek mortal woman to stand up to him.”

“That’s not true.” You glared at her, the burning on your arm intensifying.

“So, she can speak still, didn’t know if you forbade her.” Meedia eyed you further making you cringe.

“Y/N is free to do as she pleases. Our deal is defined clearly between us and does not concern you.” Hades moved to block you from her view entirely with his tall frame, “If you’re done…”

“I’m not done. No, no, Hades, far from it…” Meedia smirked as she reached up to pat his face, but his hand caught her wrist before she was able. She cackled ripping her wrist away from him as she turned to leave, “Enjoy the party, heaven knows I am.”

Hades let out a sigh turning to you again, “Are you alright?”

“What did she mean by that?” You stared after her until she disappeared from the crowd, “‘Far from it’?”

“I don’t know, and really…I don’t care. Let her play her games if she wants, as long as she keeps them away from me…away from us.” Hades put his hands on your arms making the tingling sensation of the mark eb away, “Don’t give her another thought.”

“It’s hard not to, she’s just so venomous.” You frowned pulling his cloak closer to yourself as if it would give you more protection from her, “I hope she isn’t trying to do anything like before…I would hate that.”

“Why do you care so much about it?” You looked to him as his gentle gaze fell on you making you feel calmer, “You know I’ll protect you.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about…it’s your family.” You told him making his eyes widen, “Believe it or not the last six months has made me a little attached to everyone that I’ve met…I may not have seen most of them, but Persephone would tell me stories. She made them real. I care about all of you. I just want to make sure they're safe…that you’re safe.”

He smiled at you before looking back at the assembly, “You never cease to surprise me, Y/N.”

“What does that mean?” You gained his attention again.

He chuckled at your defensive look, “I only meant that you make life enjoyable. You should be worried for yourself. You’re in a world of non-mortals and yet you care more about making sure gods, who have a great deal of power to take care of themselves, are taken care of. It’s refreshing to be surrounded by someone who is compassionate.”

“Well…you’re not so bad yourself.” You smiled at him turning back to the view. You felt him move next to you a moment. His presence was enough to making you tremble. Swallowing down the sudden butterflies in your stomach you finally posed a question, “Did you ever live here?”

“No, not really.” He shook his head, “I mean, I did for a short while just after the war when Zeus was handing out our territories and duties. Mostly, I just looked at it from afar.”

“What, you can see Olympus from the Underworld?” You looked at him curiously and disbelief.

“Oh yes…If you look over there…” He moved behind you to make sure his view was the same as yours. You could feel his body brush against yours as leaned down pointing out to the sea, “If you look just right…there… you can see the temple you fought so hard to get to. It’s the highest point of the Underworld.”

You followed his strong, scarred arm to where he was pointing seeing a blurry glowing point in the distance. What did he really go through? You’d seen the scars before, they were all over his body. You just politely ignored them knowing it was a topic he did not want to discuss when he’d adjust his sleeves in your presence, “You can actually see it from there?”

“On still days.” He chuckled a little as you turned your head to look at him. He was just a breath away from you as he stared into your eyes. He smiled as he reached up tucking a piece of hair back into place, “You look beautiful tonight.”

Your heart began to beat loudly in your ears, “T-thank you.”

Your eyes shut as his hand cupped your cheek. You felt his nose nudge yours as his breath tickled your lips. You felt intoxicated as the warm air blew between the both of you. You were prepared for anything except for what happened.

“HADES!” You turned away quickly as he stepped away, but it wasn’t fast enough to miss the disappointed look on Hades’ face as his brother Poseidon rushed in hands full of drinks, “It’s not a party unless you drink, you too little Queen.”

Poseidon shoved a drink into both of your hands. You thanked him realizing you were actually quite thirsty. You raised the glass up to drink from it when a firm hand landed over it. You looked over seeing Zeus smirking at you, “No ambrosia for you, I’m afraid.”

“Thank you, Zeus.” Hades groaned as his other brother hung over him giggling as he tried to raise Hades hand up with the drink, “I’m afraid I’m a little tied up to use my full reflexes.”

“I’ll always have your back, brother.” Zeus snapped his fingers and another glass appeared for you to take, “Whatever drink you wish it to be it, it will be, for as long as you’re in Olympus.”

“Neat trick.” You smirked up at him.

“I’m not all thunder and lightning.” He chuckled looking at Hades struggling with Poseidon, “Why don’t you take him inside to the nymphs, I’m sure they’ll entertain him.”

Hades glanced at you then to Zeus, who gently twitched his head toward the party before he relented with a heavy sigh, “I’ll be right back.”

“We eagerly await your return.” Zeus snickered as Poseidon started to serenade Hades as they walked, “Poseidon has never been able to hold the drink very well.”

“That’s surprising considering he controls the big ‘drink’.” You chuckled at your own joke as you lifted the magical cup thinking of white wine, “Mm…this cup could be dangerous.”

“Or it can be a lot of fun if used the right way.” Zeus looked down to you with a devilish grin as he adjusted the clasp on his clothing, “How are you enjoying the party?”

“It’s quite an event. I was surprised actually…I thought there would be more nudity.” You looked at him quirking an eyebrow high as you lifted the cup again to hide your smirk.

“Give it time, orgies don’t usually happen until the twelfth hour.” He chuckled as an awkward silence fell between the both of you, “Thank you, by the way.”

“For what?” You made a face.

“For making a deal with my brother.” Zeus responded with no hesitation. You didn’t know how to respond to that, so he went on, “I know that none of this has been easy for you. I’ve dealt with mortals enough times to know that it can be a bit overwhelming, but you seem to have a handle on it.”

“I wouldn’t say that…” You shook your head looking down, “Something new always seems to pop up…”

“Like being Hades’ wife, Queen of the Underworld, Wife of the Unseen, Consort to the Illustrious giver of good counsel?” He watched as your face got redder and redder with each statement, “It’s not a bad thing.”

“I didn’t say it was…” Putting your hand to your face did not help cool you off.

“So, what’s the big deal?” Zeus watched you squirm under his gaze.

“It wasn’t part of the deal!” You turned from him looking out to the sea again, “I-I mean…eh…it’s just a lot to suddenly have put on you. It’s not like it’s a bad thing…he’s…he’s…”

“He’s….what?” He leaned on the railing almost instantly like it was a bad rom com and he was your best friend you were about to dish too.

You looked at him deflating as you looked away, “Wonderful…and caring…and-and everything you’d want in a guy.”

“Good.” Zeus smiled reaching over patting your hand that rested on the railing, “Then you have nothing to worry about.”

You rolled your eyes, “Zeus, you’re gods…”

“Which makes our choices so much better than everyone else’s.” He told you confidently, “Y/N, if you're worried…”

“I am worried!” You interrupted him making his eyes widen as you went on, “I worry that if I let that happen…that it will bring him down. That someone will try to use this against him, and in the end he’ll just get hurt again. If I just stay his…his ‘pet’…” You felt sick calling yourself that, “Then at least it won’t hurt so much.”

“You like him.” You looked at Zeus again expecting to see a teasing expression, but his eyes were soft and his smile gentle. This must be the Zeus Hades had mentioned. The one that helped him, that saved him, “Listen…I know he’s a cold bastard sometimes. Comes off…awkward and stiff…but you will never find a mortal who cares more deeply than he does. He just forgets that he doesn’t have to do everything alone. He forgets that he’s allowed to feel things.”

You nodded slowly as you put your hand over the mark that still tingled slightly, “I just want him to be happy. When I first saw him, he looked so startled. Like I could have chosen any other god, but I chose him.”

“Why did you choose him?” Zeus stood up looking down to you, “Like you said, you could have chosen any of us. You’re obviously a true believer or at least raised by one, so you could have had an easier time connecting with say…Apollo or Demeter…”

“You’re right, I could have.” You smiled a little thinking about it, “I can’t really say, to be honest…I literally just went to my Gigi’s room, to her alter, and grabbed the most foreboding looking book. This black leather-bound book with yellowing pages.”

“What book was it?” He tilted his head curious.

“We call it her spell book, which pretty much is what it is.” You told him shaking your head, “She said that one of our ancestors was visited by Hecate, who blessed them with the knowledge of doors. These doors lead to the realms of the gods, where we could commune with them in person. The ritual was only to be used if what you were asking was truly important, crops failing, low births in the village, warring tribes…”

“Lame brothers who make the family proud?” Zeus stared at you with what looked like admiration, but you couldn’t be sure so you just nodded, “I would like to see this book one day, if possible? Hecate must have looked upon your family and saw great wisdom to bless you with the ability to actually commune with us in person.”

“I still have it. I never got a chance to give it back to Gigi…was kind of afraid if I did, I’d wake up and my brother would still be in the hospital.” You told him quietly as you looked over seeing Hades emerging from the crowd. He looked irritated, “I can get it to you when we get home.”

“I would appreciate it, thank you.” Zeus winked at you as Hades stopped in front of them. He smirked at him “There he is, the good big brother.”

“He is your problem now.” Hades pointed at him, “Whatever he does is on you. You should just grant his request.”

“He has 75% of the entire planet as his realm…why does he need this specific beach…” Zeus rolled his eyes holding out his hand to Hades.

“I don’t know, that’s not my problem, it’s yours. Since you’re in charge, but I suggest you consider your options.” Hades clasped his brother’s hand tightly, “Or I’m going to be a lot busier soon, and that isn’t fair to humanity. It’s been a long time since we have a natural disaster like a tsunami, let’s try to avoid it if we can.”

“Fine, I’ll butter him up tonight and discuss it later next week.” Zeus smiled at him letting go of his hand stepping away, “I don’t know what I would do without you, brother.”

“I’m sure you’d manage.” Hades told him as he walked off.

“Doubt it! Goodnight beautiful, Y/N…keep doing what you’re doing.” Zeus kissed the tops of his fingers send a kiss back to you.

You raised your cup towards him, “Thanks for the safety cup!”

Hades chuckled looking at you, “I hope he wasn’t too much trouble.”

“Not at all…I beginning to appreciate his insight.” You smiled at him as you looped your arm with his.

#ALL HAIL THE NEW QUEEN #all hail the new queen...#hades #hades and persephone #hades mortal #hades reader #hades/reader #hades/mortal #zeus #hera #poseidon #olympus #Olympians #Titans #titanomachy #greek gods #greek mythology #hades glance

117 notes · View notes

bazypitchandsimonsnow · 5 years

Text

Back to Haunt Me

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff/Light Angst

Word count: 12301

Summary: Simon Snow hasn't heard from his former roommate in years. So when he gets a call from him, he's equal parts confused and intrigued. Based on "I called you at 2am because I need you" request from @god-themself

Read on AO3

AN: I'm really sorry for how long these requests are taking, oy. Every time I start writing, the fic ends up getting longer and my stupid body decides to crap out and not work. Anyway, here's the latest fic. Hope you enjoy it :)

———————————————

Simon

I’m sitting upside down on my couch when I get the call.

It’s not something I do too often, just when I’m really, really stuck on something. I say that ideas pool in my feet and this lets them trickle down to my head. Penny thinks it’s absolutely ridiculous. She says it will give me headaches, and it does, but it also helps. I’ve been stuck for an hour on coming up with new lessons. This is my last resort.

So I’m laying upside down on my small couch, legs up in the air, face turning a very bright shade of red. My glasses slipped off a while ago, making me essentially blind to anything more than five feet away. My mind is swimming with new ideas for maths games and art projects, the mental images almost swirling past my blurry vision.

And when I’m deep in contemplation a new history Kahoot, my phone blares out my “Toxic” ringtone. (Britney is amazing and haters can fuck off.) I flip up way too fast, making my vision spin like water in a toilet bowl. I paw at my phone while I wobble back and forth. With the combination of my glasses on the floor and blood rushing from my head, I don’t bother to read the caller ID. Or lack thereof.

“Hello?” I say shakily, still clutching my head.

“Siiiiimon,” a low, slurring, strangely familiar voice says. Is a student prank calling me again? Dammit, I thought I scolded them enough.

“Jeremy, if that’s you, this isn’t funny. This is my personal mobile and you-”

“Aw, did you already forget me, Snow?” the person continues, and my heart suddenly freezes. “It hasn’t been that long has it? Only seven years.”

My jaw drops and I sit ramrod straight. Every vein in my body turns ice cold. Holy. Fucking, Shit. “Baz?!”

“Yes, it is I. Good evening, Snow,” he snorts, but there’s still that weird waver to his voice.

“A-Are you drunk?”

“Ding ding, we have a winner in every category,” he giggles. Fucking giggles. I don’t think I ever heard him let out so much as a chuckle in all the years I lived with him. He must be very drunk.

“Um, how did you get my number?”

“Remember when you got mysterious calls supposedly from the Babadook when we were fifteen? Surprise! That was me! Got your mobile off the school registry.”

My mouth falls open even more. “I knew that was you!”

“Duh!” There’s some shuffling on the other end. “Shush! Yes, I actually have him on the line. I’ll get him to come.” He’s definitely not talking to me. He lets out a long sigh. “I’m sorry about that, Snow. Super sorry, for everything I did back in school. So please don’t hang up.”

Admittedly, I was going to. But he sounds so pathetic and drunk, so I stay on. “Alright,” I sigh. “I’m still here.”

“Hooray!” There’s a short stretch of silence. He doesn’t continue, so I have to pipe up again.

“Baz,” I say, “not to be rude, but, uh, why are you drunk calling me? We haven’t seen each other in awhile and it’s...” I scramble to grab my glasses, then look at my wall clock. “After two in the morning. Plus, you like, hate me.”

“No,” he slurs out. He sounds well pissed. “I don’t hate you, Snow. You’re too much of a kind brave hero to hate.”

“Um, thank you?”

He laughs loudly. I’ve heard him laugh more in the last five minutes than I did our entire childhoods. “You’re very, very welcome.”

Again with the silence. I can’t believe I’m the one talking more between us. “So... why are you calling? You wanna catch up or something?”

Baz lets out a long, low groan. For some reason, I imagine him slumping against a wall or something. “I bloody wish. Stupid barkeep won’t let me leave until I call someone to get me and my stupid friends and stupid aunt won’t pick up.”

“So you decided to call me?!”

“You’re the only other person I know who lives in London.”

“Who told you I lived in London?”

“Aggie. Said you had a cute little flat and a cute little cat.” He giggles, and I can almost picture a dopey smile on his usually frowning face. It looks so weird and wrong. “Hey, that rhymes.”

I sit even more upright. “Wait, Aggie? As in Agatha?! Are you two dating now?!”

He scoffs. Now that really reminds me of our school days. “No, Snow, I’m not dating your ex. She’s not my type.”

“That’s rude. Agatha is very pretty.”

“I mean that she’s not a man, Snow.”

My face immediately turns scarlet, and this time not from being upside down. “O-Oh. You’re gay?”

“Once again, duh!”

“Fuck off, you flirted with her all the time!”

“Nuh-uh.” He sounds like a bloody obnoxious American. “Not really. Just did that to piss you off.”

“I’m hanging up,” I growl.

“Wait!” Baz shouts as I move the phone off my ear. “Please don’t hang up, Simon. Fucking hell, I need you.”

I seriously debate actually hanging up. But there’s something in his voice that tugs at my chest. It’s weird and explainable, but it’s there. I slowly bring the phone back to my ear. “You need me?”

“Yeah,” he groans. “I’m drunk as fuck and uh...yeah, I’m still bleeding.”

My pulse goes wild instantly. “Bleeding?! Are you hurt?!”

“Yeah, but you should see the other bloke,” he laughs proudly. “Bartender says if someone doesn’t pick me up and take me home, she’s calling the police to come get me. Doesn’t trust me with an Uber or something.” Baz makes a weird yet familiar sound. Is...is Baz Pitch sticking his tongue out at someone? What the fuck has happened in the last seven years?

“Alright,” I sigh. “Where are you?”

“Yay! I am...” He takes a long pause, which gives me time to rub my aching temple. “Hey, where am I?”

There’s more rustling and some muffled yelling. “He’s at XOYO,” a stern woman’s voice says. “32-37 Cowper St, second floor. We’re closing in an hour so get here soon.”

Before I can say anything else, the phone clicks off. I stay frozen for a moment. My brain is still playing a bit of catch up. So, Baz bloody Pitch has called me out of the blue after seven years, drunk off his arrogant arse, apparently gay, and needs me to pick him up. And now he’s sorry for being a dick to me through our entire time in school? That’s nice. Few years too late if you ask me, but better late than never I suppose.

I look down at all my notes, the ones I have to finish in a few weeks before the new school year. If I were a worse person, I would forget about Baz, finish my lessons, and just go to bed. He’s my former bully, I shouldn’t care. But when I think about Baz, drunk, bleeding, sitting there alone at a bar waiting for me but I never show up, my stomach plummets to the centre of the Earth.

Godammit.

I march towards the door, grab my keys, and set out to fulfill a bad idea.

Turns out this bar is right in the middle of bloody Shoreditch. Which means at this time of night (or morning), there’s lots of closing nightclubs and stumbling drunk people being sick on the sidewalk. Glad I didn’t take the tube.

XOYO is a mostly nondescript red brick building with some black panelling and a neon red sign. I park as close as I can, which is not that close. The stairs up to the club are steep and leave me panting by the end. Bloody hell, I need to get back to the gym. Chasing ten years old is not enough exercise apparently. The bar is one of those hipster places with wooden tables and old Victorian chairs and candles. There’s a few people passed out on tables, snoring with their beer glasses.

“Simon!” a familiar voice shouts from the bar. “Simon, over here!”

I turn to my left too look at the bar, and...wow. After seven years, Baz looks so different, yet so the same. Same sharp cheekbones, same long-ish raven hair, same deep sea grey eyes. He’s broader though, shoulders filling out his blood stained grey dress shirt. Far less gaunt and gangly and vampiric looking than he was in school. The shirt has the sleeves rolled up and the top two buttons undone. Weird. Baz always had his uniform buttoned to collar in school. Then I have to do a double take, because...Baz Pitch is wearing jeans? They’re dark and expensive looking, hugging his legs, which still have a footballer’s strong muscles. He has a big, dopey, drunk grin, which is offset by the small black eye and blood trickling from his nose. It’s unfortunate this is the first time I’ve ever seen him smile.

I walk towards him, hands in my pockets, shoulders nervously hunched in. Why is my heart beating so fast? Bloody hell, calm down, Simon, it’s just Baz. You know him, probably better than most people. He’s an arsehole, not evil. And we haven’t had a physical fight since we were thirteen. Plus it’s been seven years, we’re adults now. He won’t bite. Hopefully.

“Hi Baz,” I say, trying to hide my nerves. “Uh, nice to see you.”

Baz squints at me, and a pang of panic shoots through me. Is there something wrong with my face? Bloody hell, what a cruel twist of fate it would be, to see my childhood enemy after years and have pizza sauce on my cheek.

“Um, Baz, you there?” I weakly wave a hand in front of him.

“Since when do you wear spectacles?” he asks, still slurring his words.

I instinctively touch my wireframe glasses, immediately self conscious. “Oh. Since first year uni. Turns out one of the reasons school Watford so hard for me was that I couldn’t read the board a lot.”

I chuckle awkwardly, rubbing the back of my neck. I expect Baz to laugh or mock me like he used to. But instead he grins again, leaning his cheek on his bruised hand. “They look good.”

Why are my cheeks heating up? Must be bad air conditioning. “Um, thanks, Baz.”

He keeps grinning, showing off his sharp bright white teeth. (There’s a good reason I thought he was a vampire.) “Welcome.”

It goes silent again, with me standing awkwardly and Baz grinning. Christ, this is so weird. I assumed I’d never see Baz ever again, let alone drunk and bloodied in designer jeans. I have less of an idea what to do than usual.

“Ugh, finally!” a woman’s voice says to the side. I whip my head around to see who must obviously be the bartender. She’s got a deep scowl on her face and hands on her hips. “You’re Simon Snow?”

“Um, yeah, that’s me,” I reply.

“Good. Please take this arsehole off my hands.”

Baz blows a raspberry at her like a toddler. Bloody hell, he is a weird drunk. The bartender glares and flips him off.

“I’ll get him out of here,” I say.

“Thank you.” She digs under the bar and takes out a sleek black iPhone. “Here’s his phone. Took it from him after he almost dropped it in a beer glass.”

“Alright.” My brow furrows in confusion. “Do you have Baz’s keys? Or does he still have them?”

“He never had them. Searched all his pockets, nothing there.”

“Worst feel up ever,” Baz grumbles.

I rub my aching temple. “Baz, did you really forget your keys?”

He frowns and scratches his head with a bloodied hand. “Hm, yes, I think I did. I left my flat pretty fast. Maybe the super will let me in if he’s awake.”

“Where do you live?”

His brows pull together, bottom lip sticking out in a pout. Now that is certainly an expression I remember from school. It’s his thinking face. I used to glare at him while he studied all the time. “Somewhere...posh, and silver.”

I groan and drag a hand over my face. “Alright then. Well...I guess I’ll bring you to my flat.”

Baz’s jaw drops open and he shakes his head, making his black hair fan out in a strangely majestic way. “No no, you don’t have to do that. I’ll figure it out-”

“No, Baz, you won’t, you’re too pissed to think right now. I’m taking you to my place, no questions.”

He frowns. I can’t tell if he’s sad or angry. “I don’t wanna im-”

“We lived together for years, arsehole. One more night won’t kill you. Come on, get up.”

I grab his bicep and haul him to his feet. Bloody hell, does he work out a lot or something? He’s made of fucking rock. Baz wobbles back and forth and ends up leaning on me. I struggle to keep him upright.

“Baz,” I grumble, “you’re too heavy, I can’t hold you up.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He sort of heaves himself upwards, still wobbling on his feet, but at least he’s standing. That’s something I guess.

“You good?”

Baz sticks out his arms like he’s on a tightrope. “Yeah, I’m alright. Mostly.”

“Good enough. Let’s go.” I look over at the still very annoyed bartender. “Uh, thanks for taking care of him.”

“If you’re really thankful,” she spits, “make sure he doesn’t come back.”

She marches off into the back. Baz flips her off before I quickly pull down his hand. “Enough,” I grumble. “Let’s get you out of here before she smacks you.”

“Kinky,” he chuckles. God, drunk Baz is fucking weird.

Getting down the stairs takes far longer than it should. Baz has to watch his every step so he doesn’t go tumbling down. He’s like a shaky newborn fawn. It would be cute if it weren't so frustrating. Finally, we get to the bottom and I lead Baz by the sleeve towards my car. He laughs loudly when we reach it. I immediately scowl and whip around to face him.

“What?!” I snap, assuming he’s making fun of my old beat up beetle. But instead he has his head tilted upwards, laughing at the sky. Neon club signs and yellow street lights light up his smiling face. He’s like a rainbow constellation, colour reaching every crevice. Huh. Baz has always been pretty, but has he always been this pretty?

“Lights in the sky,” he laughs. “Pretty.”

I groan and tug him hard. “Come on, you drunk prat, hurry up.”

Baz stumbles along reluctantly. I shove into the passenger seat and buckle him up like he’s a bloody eight year old, then take my place in the driver’s seat. Baz is slumping, the seat belt digging into his cheek. If we crash his pretty face is going to get cut open. I debate telling him, but Baz rarely ever listens to me, and I doubt that has changed much.

I turn the engine over. Baz lets out a whoop so loud I jolt. “Allons-y,” he shouts like some deranged adventurer.

“Silence, s’il vous plait,” I reply as I turn on to the road.

“Oo, you speak French now, Snow?”

“Yes. I lived in France for a year, I learned pretty well.”

“Very nice.” For a moment I think he’s mocking me, but his smile is completely genuine, if not a bit drunken. Is it weird that I like drunk adult Baz better than sober teen Baz?

I drive through Shoreditch slowly, making sure not to hit any wayward club leavers. Baz grumbles about the slowness, but I tell him to shut up or I’ll drive us into a pole. That makes him quiet for a little while, thank god. When we hit the main drag, he decides to pipe up again.

“So what have you been up to, Snow?” he asks.

My eyes briefly flick over to him, catching his grin and glazed eyes. I scoff and look back at the road. “Really? We’re going to chit chat about life after Watford?”

“You just want us to sit in silence the whole time?”

“Maybe.”

“Boring,” he groans. “Come on, Snow, it’s been a while. Let’s catch up.”

I chuckle low in my throat. “Yes, I would love to catch up with my plastered childhood bully.”

Baz lets out a pathetic sort of whining sigh. Suddenly, something brushes my shoulder. I jolt away and briefly look over, realising it’s Baz’s hand. He’s pouting in the way his mouth is perfectly made for.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “About all the shit I did. I was a messed up prick at Watford. I’m really sorry I took that all out on you.”

I raise an extremely suspicious eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Really?!”

“It’s been seven years, Snow. Am I not allowed to learn from my mistakes?”

“Well, I mean, yeah, of course. I just didn’t expect it from you...”

“I’m a changed man, Snow,” he declares proudly. “No more picking on other people to avoid dealing with my emotional and family problems.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Wow, you sound like a therapist.”

“That’s because I am a therapist.”

We stop at a red light, giving me a chance to whip my head around in shock. My jaw is firmly on the ground. “You’re a therapist?!”

“Sort of.” Baz grins pointed ear to pointed ear. He offers his hand, though it’s a bit limp. “Dr. Basilton Grimm-Pitch, psychiatrist in training at University College Hospital. Pleasure to meet you.”

I can’t take my hands off the wheel, so I don’t take his, but I smile instead. Baz chuckles as his hand falls, so I think he gets the picture.

“Wow,” I sigh. “You, a psychiatrist. I never would have thought.”

“Me neither, until I took a psychology course in year 10. Then I decided I liked, y’know, mind stuff and shit. It was interesting and challenging. And I could help people with it.”

I scoff, but with a smile. “And you used to call me the overly noble hero.”

“Well, I decided to follow in your golden footsteps, golden boy.” He turns towards me, cheeks squished against the seat. He’s really going to die if we crash. “So really, what have you been up to since Watford, Mr. Hero? Storming castles? Saving damsels in distress? Travelling the world?”

That makes me laugh louder. “You have a way overinflated sense of my heroism.”

He snorts, but it’s not unkind like it used to be. Just sort of amused. “Alright. Then what do you do?”

“I’m, uh, actually a primary teacher. Year six, to be exact.”

“Oh,” Baz breathes out, sounding genuinely amazed. “That’s cool. That makes sense, yeah.”

“Makes sense?”

“You were always helping out the kids in younger years at Watford.”

I chuckle and shrug. “Yeah, guess you’ve got a point.”

“Is it fun? Teaching children?”

“Yeah. I like finding fun ways to teach them stuff. Though it’s not great they get in fights or stuck lego bricks up their noses.”

Baz lets out a barking laugh. It’s a fun, sudden sound. I’ve never heard it before, yet it works well for Baz. “Is that what people mean by ‘the joys of children?’”

“Something like that. Is psychiatry fun?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “But time consuming. Doctors aren’t supposed to have damn lives apparently.”

“Well, good thing you found time to go to a hipster bar”

Everything suddenly gets very, very quiet. It reminds me of when we would study. Backs to each other, no noise, plenty of tension. Did I say something wrong? I used to do that a lot, but I thought I’d gotten better. I’ve learned to chew my words better over the years. But when we stop at a roundabout, I turn to see that Baz is gazing ahead, mouth a thin line and grey eyes lost in the distance.

“Pretty lights,” he whispers in awe, like a child. I guess alcohol does turn adults into children. His nose is still letting out a small trickle of dark red blood. I sigh and shake my head.

“Glove box,” I say.

Baz turns his head to me. “Huh?”

“There’s tissues in the glove box. Your nose is still bleeding a bit.”

“Oh.” He paws at the latch in front of him, floppy drunk fingers struggling to just bloody lift it. I sigh and reach over, lifting it for him. Baz takes out the little packet and flashes me that dopey smile. Why does my chest feel funny? I must be overtired.

“Thanks,” he says, then presses the tissue to his nose. It’s weirdly comforting in its familiarity. I still remember sitting in the headmaster’s office after our fights, covered in bruises and blood, glaring at each other. This is better though. We’re not fighting, in fact we’re being nice. Maybe this is how we could’ve been at Watford. Maybe we could’ve been...friends.

We sit in silence for the rest of the ride. But it’s a comfortable silence, no tension. I like it. A lot. I like all of this better than fighting.

———————————————

I pull into my spot in front of my apartment. Dragging Baz out of the car is a bit of a problem, but luckily my place has a lift, so no more stair problems. He starts leaning on me as we go up to my floor. I use one finger to push him back, and he slumps against the wall. I need to strap him to a dolly.

We go into my apartment, and I instinctively prepare for a snide comment from Baz. Something about it’s size, it’s clutter, the decor. But he says nothing derogatory. In fact, he smiles, brushing his hand against my Van Gogh print and old dining room table.

“You, uh, like it?” I ask. Wait, why does it matter what Baz thinks of my place? I don’t need his approval.

“Yeah,” Baz replies. “It’s very nice.”

There’s a thump from my room, followed by the familiar pitter-patter of tiny paws. Cherry prances into the room, all fluffy tailed and cute. She blinks up at Baz with big green eyes. Baz makes a tiny gasp and gets on his knees, holding his hand out to Cherry.

“Hello, pretty kitty,” he says softly. “Aren’t you an adorable little thing.”

Cherry sniffs his fingers, then immediately nuzzles against his hand. Baz looks absolutely elated, a big childish grin on his face.

“You like cats, huh?”

Baz nods vigorously. “I would have one if my building allowed pets.” He scratches behind Charry’s ear with glee. “What’s this little one’s name?”

“Her name is Cherry.”

“You did love those scones,” he chuckles.

I chuckle as well, fiddling with my shirt sleeve. “Still do. Though none are as good as Cook Pritchard’s.”

“Very true.” He stands up, pulling away from Cherry, and wobbles his way into the sitting room. He stands between my coffee table and ratty old couch. “So may I sleep on that couch?”

I scramble in after him and start piling up my curriculum papers. I don’t want Baz shouting at me for the mess. “Uh, yeah, just lemme fix it up a bit.”

“It’s alright-”

“No, I’ll fix it. And...maybe you should clean up a bit first?”

Baz turns to me with a confused expression. “What?” I sigh and point at is blood spattered shirt. He pulls it in front of himself, like a child who’s spilled food. “Oh, right.”

“There’s stuff on you face too...”

Baz drags a long finger over his cheek, and rubs the dried blood between his fingers. “Good point.

“You wanna take a shower maybe?”

“Is that okay with you?”

“Uh, yeah. But be warned, I don’t have any of your fancy French soaps.”

He lets out a loud short laugh, like a happy little firecracker going off. “Wouldn’t expect you to, Snow. I doubt you’ve changed that much.”

“Heh, yeah.” I rub the back of my neck, which is getting very hot for some reason. I think I need to fix my fan.

Baz wobbles back towards me. He stands a bit too close, and now that things are calm, I notice how he smells. It’s a mix of liquor, irony blood, and the very faint, familiar scent of cedar and bergamot. Seven years later and I can’t forget that smell. I guess it’s burned into my brain forever. I’m not sure that I mind.

“Where’s the bathroom?” he asks, snapping me out of my olfactory induced daze.

“Oh, uh, down the hall and to your left. There’s towels in the cupboard.”

“Alright.” He sticks his hands in his trouser pockets, a very shy gesture I’m not used to seeing from him. “Thank you. Again. I’m saying that a lot tonight, wow.”

I chuckle and shrug. “I guess so. Now go wash off that awful blood please.”

“Aye aye, Mr.Snow.” He does a mocking little American salute with two fingers. I watch as he half skips his way to the bathroom, trying not to giggle at his ridiculous gait.

The bathroom door shuts, and I let out a long breath. My brain is still playing catch up. I need to sit, relax, just process all this shit. Once I organize my papers into semi-neat piles and close my laptop, I grab a cherry granola bar from the counter and collapse on the couch. I hear the shower turn on. I glance over at the clock. Bloody hell, it’s past 3am, and my enemy is taking a shower in my flat. Well, former enemy, I guess. We’re not fighting anymore. In fact, Baz is being really nice. It’s pretty damn great. I hope we can keep this up.

Cherry jumps onto the couch, startling me from my daze. She immediately curls up on my lap, purring happily. I chuckle as I pet her. Penny jokes that Cherry is my emotional support service cat. Honestly, she’s not wrong. I don’t know what I would do without her.

“Wanna watch Dr. Who, darling?” I coo, scratching behind her ear. “Yes, yes you do.”

I grab the remote and turn on Netflix, going to one of my favourite episodes. We sit there in peaceful silence through the show. I try not to listen to the shower down the hall. I can’t help but worry. What if he slips and hits his head? What if he falls asleep and drowns? What if he tries to eat the bloody soap? All are strong possibilities. But he’s still Baz. He’s too smart and stubborn to die.

As I near the end of the episode, I realise it’s been half an hour since Baz went in. My heart beats double time, every fear racing through my head. (As well as concern for my water bill.) But the sound of water shuts off, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I hear Baz’s unsteady feet pad around the tiled floor. But then there’s rattling and muffled swearing, and I’m on my feet immediately. Cherry meows unhappily and scuttles away.

“Sorry, girl,” I say as I speed walk to the bathroom. I knock on the wooden door. “Baz? You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” his muffled voice replies, but that’s followed by a loud bang. “Bloody fucking hell.”

“I’m coming in.”

“Snow, wait-”

I push the door open and immediately freeze. All the blood in my body goes straight to my face, turning it tomato red. Because Baz Pitch is standing in front of my medicine cabinet with nothing but a towel around his waist. His hair is soaked and messy, falling adorably in front his shocked face. His legs look strong enough to crush someone. Thin rivulets of water drip down his broad, bare chest. I watch them for a few long, drawn out seconds, completely frozen. In our time living together, Baz and I made a point to never see each other without clothes on. Did he even look close to this back at school? Did I just never notice?

“Um...” Baz says, breaking me out of my daze. I whip around, hand cupped over my eyes.

“Bloody hell, Baz!” I shout. “Give a guy some warning.”

“I would have if you hadn’t come bursting in!”

“Well, you took awhile in the shower, then I heard swearing. Excuse me for being concerned.”

“I’m grateful for your concern, Mr. Hero, though not for your usual brashness.”

“Just put some clothes on, please.”

“Very well.”

I listen to Baz shuffle and grumble as I assume he gets dressed. I resist the urge to turn around and check if he can get his legs into his trousers. I’m not sure how drunk he still is.

“You can turn around now, Snow.”

I slowly turn, and my face turns scarlet again. “Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?!”

“Because mine is covered in blood,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Which I guess it is, but still he’s not wearing a shirt. Why are my hands so clammy?

Baz starts sorting through the medicine cabinet. I frown in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for bandages.” He lifts his left hand, showing off his bruised, still slightly bleeding knuckles. “You got any?”

“Uh, yeah. I’ll get it, sit down on the toilet.”

Baz stumbles over and does what he’s told (for once). I grab the first aid kit from under the sink and sit next to him on the edge of the tub.

“Gimme your hand,” I say. Baz holds out his arm, fingers limp. I try not to look freaked out. His skin is black and blue and there are many cuts, still bleeding slowly. “Why are you still bleeding? It’s been like, an hour.”

“My blood alcohol content is high,” Baz replies. “Booze is a blood thinner. Means I’ll bleed more.”

“Oh. That makes sense. Thanks, Mr. Doctor.”

Baz chuckles, a soft smile playing on his mouth. “Dr. Grimm-Pitch will do.”

I laugh as well. I take a towel off the rack and pat his hand dry, then get the antiseptic.

“I just had a shower,” Baz protests.

“Don’t care. We need to make sure you don’t get an infection.”

“I’m fine.”

I pour the clear liquid on a sterile pad. “Still doing it.”

“I’m the doctor here, dammit.”

“The doctor who is still drunk off his arse after a bloody bar fight. So shut up.”

Baz frowns, but doesn’t protest. I lightly pat his cuts. He inhales sharply through his teeth and tries to pull away, but I grab his wrist, holding still.

“Don’t move,” I say.

“It hurts,” he whines like a toddler.

“Yeah, no shit. That’s what you get for getting in a bar fight, idiot.”

He grumbles, but doesn’t move again either. Once I’m satisfied all the cuts are clean, I use another pad to get them dry, then take out the bandages.

“You get injured a lot, Snow?” He’s smirking playfully, not a hint of malice. It’s much nicer than his smug arsehole face.

“No,” I chuckle. “But it never hurts to be prepared.”

“Especially if your former enemy shows up drunk and bleeding.”

Thoughts start racing through my head. Horrible, nervous thoughts. I stop wrapping his hand for a moment, but quickly start again. Unfortunately, Baz notices.

“Something on your mind, Snow?” he asks.

I chew on my bottom lip as I secure the bandage. I gesture for Baz to give me his other hand, and he does. I slowly pat on the antiseptic and he doesn’t move at all. Slowly, I look up, and I meet Baz’s deep sea eyes. He doesn’t look mad or annoyed, just concerned. So am I.

“Baz,” I sigh, “you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. And considering you’re a bloody doctor now, I doubt that’s changed. So I’m absolutely astounded at how you could get so drunk and end up in a bar fight.”

Baz’s thin lips press together, and I watch his throat bob in a gulp. He leans his elbow on the sink, propping his cheek on his fist. “Snow,” he says slowly, “what do you know about my mother?”

My blood turns ice cold. I stop with the bandage completely, just looking at Baz. “Uh, not much. I know she died a long time ago. And...it was at Watford...”

Baz nods slowly. “Yes, that’s what everyone knows. But what most people don’t know is that I was there.”

And now my heart completely stops. My mouth falls open slightly. Baz’s face stays completely neutral. “You...you were there?”

“Yeah.” He leans harder on his fist. “I was sitting with the rest of the kids in the Watford nursery. Suddenly a group of men with knives burst in. They started to come after the nannies and the children. But that’s when my mother showed up with her hunting rifle. My father insisted she have it for protection when he wasn’t there. She got all of the men immediately, including the one holding me. She hit him in the shoulder so he dropped me. Another man charged her while she was distracted, and she shot him in the chest, but not before...” Baz rubs his eyes and the bridge of his nose, like I do when I have a headache. “Not before he stabbed her in the neck. She bled to death in seconds.” He drags his hand down his face. “I fell unconscious after that. When I woke up, my father and aunt were tending to my wounds, and my mother was gone. I was young, it’s all a bit hazy, but I remember enough.”

I’m left in stunned silence. Baz doesn’t say anything either, just rubbing his head. He’s not crying, but he looks on the verge of tears. I don’t blame him. I can’t believe it, can’t believe Baz went through that and no one ever knew. It’s just terrible.

“Wow,” I finally say, “that’s...wow.”

Baz chuckles quietly. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

“I never knew that happened...”

“No one did, Snow. All the gruesome little details were kept under wraps. It would’ve been terrible if anyone found out Natasha Grimm-Pitch died in such an undignified way that traumatized her heir.”

His voice is mockingly scathing, even with his slightly slurred speech. He’s a mix between furious and mournful. I don’t understand how he feels, but I don’t think I ever could. I may never have had parents, but that’s a far cry from watching your’s die.

“I don’t know how much it means, but I’m sorry that happened to you Baz.”

The corner of his lip quirks up into a small half smile. “Thanks, Snow.”

I start wrapping his hand again, and my brow furrows. “So, uh, what does this have to do with you getting drunk and fighting? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Baz takes a deep inhale through his nose, and lets out the air through his mouth. “My mother was killed twenty years ago today.”

“O-oh. That...yeah, that makes sense.”

“Mhm. I’ve lived with it for most of my life, but this anniversary hit me harder than I expected. I had my first day off in months, so after some mindless telly, I went to that bar. Gave the bartender my card and told her to keep the tequila coming. First mistake.”

“Second one was getting in a fight?”

“Yeah, definitely.” He flexes his bandaged hand. “It was just some arsehole looking for trouble. He kept prodding at me and shoving my shoulder until I snapped. I don’t even remember what he said. I was just so angry and sad and drunk. And that arsehole was right there” He groans loudly and rubs his head. “One of the dumbest things I’ve ever done.”

“Probably. But you made one good choice.”

“Oh?”

I finish bandaging his other hand and smile at his mopey face. “You called me.”

His mopeyness melts away as he lets out a breathy laugh. Our eyes meet, and his are glinting in a way I’ve never seen before. “Yeah, I guess that was a good idea.”

We smile at each other. Something tugs in my chest, something I don’t fully understand. I’ve never felt anything like this. Maybe I’m just overtired.

Baz flexes his bandaged hands. I put the first aid kit under the sink again. Baz stands and presses a hand to his bruised eye. hissing between his teeth. “Got any ice packs, Snow?” he asks.

“Oh, yeah,” I reply. “It’s in the kitchen, c’mon.”

We walk towards the kitchen. I open the freezer and pull out my reusable ice pack. Teaching a bunch of children can result in some bad headaches. I wrap it in a napkin and hand it to Baz. He presses it to his eye with clenched teeth. As he leans back against the counter, I remember he’s not wearing a shirt.

“Uh,” I say, “those jeans don’t look comfortable. I’ve got some spare pyjamas. Want me to get them?”

Baz nods. “Yeah, that would be good, thanks.”

“Alright, stay here.”

I go to my bedroom, wading through the laundry I have to do tomorrow to get to the dresser. It takes awhile for me to find something that will probably fit Baz. Damn his extra four inches, always so infuriating. I eventually pick out some trackies and a long Chicago Cubs shirt. It’s all I’ve got. I go back to the kitchen, and come upon a strange scene.

“Baz,” I say slowly, “what are you doing?

Baz looks up from the messy, cutlery covered counter, still pressing the ice pack to his eye. He lifts a plate with two pieces of bread, both half covered in marmite. “Making a marmite and cheese sandwich. You want half?”

His expression is so innocent, not a hint of the old malice I used to know. I let out a sigh. “Sure. Let me get the cheese.”

He grins and goes back to slathering on marmite. I pull my sliced sandwich cheese from the fridge. Hope Baz doesn’t mind cheap Tesco brand swiss. I bring the package to the counter, and Baz takes out a slice without even looking. Guess he’s not as snobbish about food as he used to be. He cuts the sandwich into two slightly lopsided triangles and swans out to my dining room. I follow behind with the pyjamas.

Baz sits in a chair, leaning back with his legs spread out. I sit across from him, placing the clothes on the table. Baz snatches it. It unfolds and his brows pull together.

“You a baseball fan now, Snow?” he asks.

I chuckle and shake my head. “Nah. Micah definitely is though.”

“Who?”

“Remember that American exchange student from fourth year?”

“The short nerd with large glasses?” His voice is muffled as he struggles to put on the shirt. Drunk Baz doesn’t get along with t-shirt holes.

“Yeah, that’s one way to describe him I guess. He and Penny started dating then and have been together ever since. She lives in America with him now.”

Baz’s eyes light up. “Oh, that’s wonderful. How is Bunce? I miss facing off with her in debate club.”

“She’s doing well. She’s got a job as an assistant professor in Chicago and loves American food. I just saw her a few weeks ago on vacation.”

“Marvelous. Tell her I say hello next time you speak to her.”

“Will do.” We both take one half of the marmite-cheese sandwich. Baz takes a huge bite, followed by a happy groan. I can’t tell if he’s drunk hungry or actually hungry. Probably somewhere in between. I take a bite as well. There’s far too much marmite, but it’s four in the morning. Right now anything tastes good.

Thinking of Penny makes me think of Watford. And something else, or more accurately someone else, pops into my head.

“Hey,” I say through the marmite, “you said you talked to Agatha earlier. How are you two still in contact? She cut off almost everyone after Watford. I didn’t start talking to her again until a year ago.”

Baz quickly chews and swallows. “Funny story there. I did a semester abroad in California and ended up in the same biology class as Agatha. It was extremely awkward at first. But once we sat down over coffee and sorted stuff out, we bonded very quickly. Similar upper class British family problems and expectations.”

“Oh. That’s makes sense I guess. It’s nice you guys talk.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty good.” He chuckles, mouth gummed with marmite. “The weirdest part was telling her I’m gay. I apologised for leading her on, and you know what she did?”

I lean over the table, genuinely enraptured. “What?”

“Laughed her fucking arse off for ten minutes straight.”

I snort so hard I nearly shoot sandwich out my nose. Baz throws his head back laughing. He’s so loud he might disturb my neighbours, but I don’t care. His laugh is too incredible.

“Just like that,” he giggles, calming down.

“So she wasn’t mad?” I ask.

“No, not at all. She admitted she wasn’t really into me. She was just rebelling against her parents. We both sympathised on that front.” He sighs and leans back even more. “That’s all I wanted at Watford, really. I was under so much pressure to be the perfect son. I seriously considered yelling ‘fuck it’ and doing whatever I wanted.”

I sigh too, putting my cheek against my palm. “Yeah, I understand that. Mr. Mage put a lot of pressure on me. He wanted to prove to the Watford board that scholarship students were worthwhile, and since I was Watford’s very first scholarship kid, I had to be perfect. Every time I got a low grade he would yell at me for an hour.”

“What a prick,” Baz grumbles.

I chuckle as I nod slowly. “Yeah, total prick. Watford wasn’t an easy place to be.”

Baz slowly lowers his sandwich, looking pointedly at the plate, and therefore not me. My heart speeds up. Did I say something wrong? Did I piss him off by accident? I do that a lot. And I definitely used to do that to Baz.

“What is it?” I ask.

“I don’t mean to pry,” he says carefully. “And maybe this is me still being pretty drunk. But...I saw something in your medicine cabinet.”

I squint, trying to think what could be so concerning. “Saw what?”

He fiddles with his still damp hair. It’s an old nervous habit I recognise from finals studying. “A bottle of citalopram. I’m a future psychiatrist, I know what that medication is usually for...”

My stomach drops out. I freeze with the sandwich still in my hand. “Oh,” I squeak.

“Yeah.” He leans closer, eyes round and sympathetic. “I’m sorry I looked. And...I’m sorry if I had any part in your need for it-”

“No no, Baz.” I shake my head, leaning forward as well. “You don’t have to. It’s not your fault, it’s not anyone’s in particular, really. It’s stupid chemicals misfiring in my brain. You’re a doctor, you know that.”

“Yes, of course I know that, Snow. But I also know my incessant arsehole behaviour for seven years probably didn’t help.”

I shrug, leaning back again. “Probably. And I bet me insulting you and punching you in the face all the time didn’t help your mental health either.”

He smiles and laughs again. He looks better when he laughs. “Okay, good point.”

“Exactly. So let’s agree neither of us need to apologise. We’ll let the past be the past, move on from here.”

“So you mean a truce?”

“Yeah, I guess.” I reach out my hand. “Truce.”

Baz smiles and clasps his hand with mine. His skin is just as rough and cold as I remember it being back at school. But even after we pull apart, my skin still feels warm.

“Just so we’re even,” Baz says with his mouthful, “my favourite antidepressant was cipralex. I went off it a few months ago because it started making me too drowsy, but it worked well for years. Citalopram made me far too ill. When I first tried it, I ended up vomiting in a bloody bedpan.”

I burst out laughing. And Baz’s grin outshines the sun.

We finish our sandwiches together. Baz complains that his mouth tastes like a rubbage heap. Apparently the combination of old tequila, Tesco cheese, and marmite creates a truly awful flavour. I give him an unused toothbrush from the dentist. He goes into the bathroom and soon emerges with clean teeth and wearing my trackies. I’m back on the couch with Cherry in my lap.

“You tired?” I ask.

“Not really,” Baz replies. “Late hospital shifts have turned me into an insomniac.”

“Wanna watch some Dr. Who?”

He throws himself down next to me, long arm stretched out over the back of the couch behind me. “Sure.”

I switch to a new episode. It’s a standalone, so Baz won’t be too confused. But he still asks incessant questions. Who’s this, what’s that, how the everloving fuck can they do that and survive? No wonder he’s a doctor. He’s perfect at looking for answers, no matter how annoying he is. Eventually I have to threaten to duct tape his mouth to get him to shut up. He huffs, crosses his arms, and sinks down further.. His head ends up on my shoulder. Despite my shorter neck length and Baz’s naturally long face, his head fits perfectly in the crook of my neck. Like it was made to be there. Wait, where did that thought come from?

The credits roll, and I notice a quiet whistling noise. I turn my head to the side. Oh. Baz is asleep. His eyes are softly closed and his lips are slightly parted. I’ve seen Baz sleep before of course, but this is different. Baz had nightmares throughout our entire time at Watford. (So did I.) I don’t think he’s having one now though. There’s no thrashing or whimpers. I’ve never seen Baz look so...peaceful.

“Baz,” I whisper. He doesn’t respond at all. “Baz,” I say louder, jerking my shoulder a bit.

“Ugh,” he groans, “let me sleep in, Daphne, it’s summer.”

“I’m not your step-mum, Baz.”

He cracks one eye open. “No, you’re really not, Snow.”

“Yeah. You wanna go to bed?”

“Mm, yeah.”

“Okay.” I slowly get up, easing Baz off my shoulder. I gently lower him onto the couch. The bottom half of his face hangs off the arm. Yeah, he’s going to need a pillow. I go to my bedroom and grab a pillow and blanket. I also make a stop by the bathroom for some aspirin and make another at the kitchen for some water and a bowl, in case he’s sick. I would prefer not to clean vomit out of my carpet.

Baz is still awkwardly pressed against the sofa arm, drooling slightly. Who would’ve thought I’d see the day Baz Pitch drooled in his sleep? I wouldn’t have. Not in a million years. But apparently tonight is a time for new things.

I place the bowl, water, and aspirin on my coffee table. Slowly and carefully, I lift Baz’s head and fit a pillow under it. I drape the blanket over his annoyingly tall body. His arm hangs like a limp noodle off the side. I sigh, kneeling down to tuck it back in.

Out of nowhere, I feel long, rough fingers touching my cheek. My whole body locks up in shock. Slowly, I raise my head, and I meet Baz’s half open grey eyes and soft smile.

“Uh, Baz?” I say, not sure what else I can.

“You’re still so beautiful,” he whispers. My eyes widen and every nerve in my body is filled with...something? Fear, nerves, an absolute sense of what the fuck? I can’t tell.

“W-What?”

Baz’s hand moves lower. His thumb traces just under my bottom lip. Why does my skin feels like it’s fire? “Your face, it’s still really pretty.”

I let out a nervous chuckle. “Uh, I guess you’d know. You punched it enough.”

He laughs softly. His hand falls, pulling back under the blanket, and his eyes slip shut. “Wish I had kissed it instead.”

I don’t even have time to respond to that, because Baz is asleep in an instant, snoring quietly once again. I’m frozen in place. My jaw is slack. Baz would tell me I’m going to catch flies. Baz, who’s sleeping right in front of me, who wished he had kissed me? My brain can’t process this. I’m like a computer with an eternal blue screen. This does not compute, cannot compute, fuck fuck fuck.

There’s only one thing I can think to do.

I grab my phone, rush to my room, and close the door. Cherry is already curled up on her side. The second I’m sitting on the mattress, I click Penny’s contact.

“Hello?” Her voice immediately calms me down.

“Hi, Pen,” I say.

“Simon?! Bloody hell, isn’t it like four in the morning in London?”

I look over at my clock. “Uh, yup, just about.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but why are calling me at four AM?”

I sigh and flop backwards. “Pen, you’re not going to believe who is sleeping in my living room right now.”

“Who? The Doctor? Boris Johnson? The Queen of England>

A laugh bubbles from my mouth. “Nah, even weirder.”

I can almost hear Penny’s face pinching together in confusion. “Who?”

“Baz Pitch.”

She gasps loudly. “What?! As in Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch? That Baz Pitch?!”

“You think there’s another Baz Pitch in existence?”

“Yeah,” she sighs, “good point. So why is your arsehole former roommate sleeping on your couch?”

I rub the bridge of my nose. It doesn’t help. I’m not sure anything can help now. “That’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

I sigh, and start spinning my insane tale. From the call to the bar to my flat, how Baz and I talked and became friendly and made a weird truce over cheese and marmite. I try to say everything quickly yet accurately. Penny barely makes a noise as I talk. I can’t tell if she’s shocked or contemplative. Probably both, honestly. I can’t blame her. The more I talk, the more completely nuts it all sounds. I’m living in a bloody sitcom.

“And then,” I say, “he held my face, said I was beautiful, and that he wished he had kissed me instead of punching me!”

“Wow,” Penny gasps. “That’s...a lot.”

“I know right? I’m so confused and I have no idea what the fuck to do!”

“Okay. What do you want to do though?”

I rub my very aching brow. “I don’t know, Pen. It’s so weird. Like, is this something he’s just realised or has Baz always felt this way?”

“Probably the second one.”

I bolt upright, brows knitted together. “Wait, really? You think so?”

“Yeah, actually.”

“But why?!”

“Well, Baz has always been very obsessed with you. He would go out of his way to be around you.”

“Yeah, to torment me,” I grumble.

Penny lets out a sigh. “Yes, he did. But as you told me, Baz said he picked on you because he couldn’t deal with his emotional issues. One of those issues certainly could have been romantic feelings for you.”

“Then why didn’t he just say something?!”

“Because he was the gay son of a conservative upper class British family, which probably wasn’t easy to deal with. Plus, his father and aunt hated the idea of scholarship students, also known as you.”

My righteous anger fizzles out like a dying campfire, shoulders slumping as I fall back against the headboard. “Oh. Yeah, that’s a good point. Still shouldn’t have been a snob and a bully.

“No he shouldn’t have. It was probably half poor coping and half trying to get your attention.”

“Like a boy pulling a girl’s pigtails?”

“I guess.”

“That’s a stupid and sexist way to handle a crush. I tell my students that all the time.”

Penny sighs. “Yeah, of course it is. But I’m pretty sure Baz knows that, at least now. He’s sorry for what he did. It seems like he’s gotten a lot better.”

“Yeah.” A smile creeps across my face without thinking. It just feels natural. “He’s gotten a lot nicer. He’s not the perfect, pretty, unfeeling arsehole I thought he was. And he’s funny, at least when he’s drunk. We had a pretty great time .”

I laugh quietly, but Penny’s is far louder. She sounds like she’s muffling her giggles. I frown a bit. “What’s so funny, Pen?”

“Oh,” she keeps giggling, “I think I’ve just realised something, and it’s hilarious.”

“Realised what?”

She takes a few deep calming breaths while my anxiety just climbs. “Simon,” she says kindly. This is the way she used to speak while explaining our complicated maths homework. “Hear me out, but I don’t think Baz is the only one who feels something.”

“Huh?”

“I think you have at least a few romantic feelings for Baz.”

“What?!” I shout far too loudly, and I worry I’m going to wake up Baz. I crouch inward, like I’m hiding, but I’m not really sure what. Baz? Penny? Myself?

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I hiss.

“Hear me out,” Penny says. “I’m saying that based on the evidence, you may have latent romantic feelings for Baz Pitch.”

“What evidence?!”

Penny lets out a low chuckle, like a super villain who’s plan has come to fruition. “Let’s see. Number one: back at Watford, you spent 99% of your time thinking about, talking about, or being with Baz. I had to put a limit on how much you were allowed to talk about Baz, remember?”

“Yeah, because he was bugging me,” I mumble.

“Number two: when you talked about Baz, it was always about how annoyingly pretty, smart, and graceful he was. You hated him, yet you had so many nice things to say.”

“Well he was perfect and it was annoying!”

“Number three: During the entire time you dated Agatha, you paid far more attention to Baz than you ever did to her.”

“T-That’s not true!” Though, looking back...fucking hell, it might actually be true.

“Number four: even though you hadn’t seen him in seven years, you dropped everything at two AM to go pick up his drunk arse from a bar.”

“It was the right thing to do!”

“Number five: you just gushed about how much you like Baz now and that he’s fun to be around. And I bet you were smiling.”

“No.” I think my cheeks are turning red.

I hear some rustling, and I think Penny is leaning forward in her chair. I can almost see her kind face in front of me. “Simon, I don’t want to push anything on you, but I also want you to really think about this. I know you hate to analyse things but it’s necessary right now. Maybe it could lead to something good.”

I tug on my hair, trying to distract myself. “I don’t know about that, Pen.”

“I know. Doesn’t even have to be romantic, maybe a good friendship. You could use more friends. And I’m not saying you have to jump his bones tomorrow.”

“Penny!” Now I’m definitely blushing.

She laughs uncontrollably, snorting every once in awhile. I cover my blushing face and groan. “Oh, I’m only joking, Si,” she says. “But I’m serious, don’t shut it down. Think about it. Baz is nice now, maybe it could work.”

“Why are you so desperate to set me up with my former enemy?”

“Because you haven’t been on a date or made new friends since first year uni. And I haven’t heard you this happy about being around someone in years.”

I hate to admit it, but she’s right. I’ve had more fun with Baz in one night than I have in ages. I enjoyed talking to him. I enjoyed laughing with him. I’m glad he’s asleep in the next room, where I can make sure he’s okay.

“You may have a point,” I say.

“Of course I do.”

I roll my eyes, just like she does. “Yeah, yeah, we’ve always known you’re smarter than me.”

“Mhm. And in my smart opinion, you need to go to bed.”

“Will do.” I flop backwards. The pillow feels heavenly on my head. “Thanks, Pen. I’ll talk to you later.”

“You better. Night, Si.”

I smile, and I hope she can hear my love and gratitude over the phone. “Night, Pen.”

The phone clicks off. I let it fall to the side. I am 0.2 seconds from passing out, even with so much still on my mind. I plug in my phone and turn on my side. I pull Cherry close to me. She curls around my hand like usual. When I close my eyes, all I see is raven hair, deep sea grey eyes, and a smile I never knew was there before.

———————————————

“Bloody fucking shit!”

I wake up with a start, clutching my sheet. Late morning sunlight is bleeding through the gap in my curtains. There’s muffled banging on the other side of my door. It’s like a very clumsy little rhino is moving through my flat. But I know exactly who it is.

I grab my glasses and slowly walk down the hall, peeking around the corner. It’s weird to sneak around my own apartment. I see a familiar long, lithe back, bent over as he struggles to get his struggles to get his oxfords on. He keeps wavering side to side like a branch in the wind.

“Good morning,” I say nonchalantly.

Baz whips around so fast he nearly topples over, stumbling to the side. He looks even more disheveled than last night, hair extremely tangled from sleeping on it wet, bruise worsening under his eyes, and bloodstained shirt buttoned wrong. He looks absolutely shocked to see me, which is odd, considering this is my flat.

“Um,” he says, shakiness in my voice, “good morning, Snow.”

“Leaving so soon?”

“Uh, well, yes, I suppose.”

I lean against the wall with my arms crossed. “So you were going to go and what? Leave me a thank you note like some bad teen movie?”

He probably thinks I don’t notice, but I see him crumple up and shove something in his back pocket. “No. I-I would’ve texted you my thanks.”

“Because that’s so much better.”

Baz looks down in shame, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I know. It’s just...I didn’t want to make things awkward after last night. I’m truly sorry for the way I acted and imposing on you.”

“It’s okay.” I walk forward, hands in my trackie pockets. “I know you were pretty drunk, but, what do you remember from last night?”

Baz looks up, but still doesn’t meet my eyes. “I remember, being upset, going to the bar, getting in the fight, and the bartender screaming colourful obscenities at me.” That makes him laugh a little. It still sounds so nice. “Then I called you, you came and you had glasses. We drove to your place. I had a shower. You tended to my wounds like some war nurse.”

I giggle, nodding in complete agreement. “Yeah, I definitely did do that.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Then uh, we ate sandwiches, watched Doctor Who, and I assume I fell asleep.”

“Okay.” I draw out the last syllable on purpose, making my doubt extremely clear. “That’s most of it, but you’re missing a few key parts.”

“Am I?” He’s trying to sound confident, but I know Baz, and I can hear a waver in his voice.

I start walking closer. “Mhm. You’re missing the parts where you apologized for being a prick in school, called my flat was good, liked my cat, said you drank because it was the anniversary of your mother’s horrible death, talked about your experience with antidepressants.” I’m only a few feet away from him now, looking him right in his pretty. “And, the part where you said that you wished you had kissed me back at school instead of punching me.”

With his complexion, it’s hard to tell when Baz is blushing. But I can see it. Scarlet creeps down from his cheeks to his long neck, eyes locked on me in stun.

“Oh,” he squeaks. “I see.”

“You really don’t remember all that?”

He rubs his brow. “Well, maybe, it’s just...fuzzy.”

“But was it true? Did you like me back at Watford?”

He visibly gulps, then looks at the floor again. He looks incredibly embarrassed and ashamed. “Yes,” he says, like he has to force himself to say it. “Yes, it’s true.”

I let out a long breath, half from relief, half to calm myself down. Okay. It’s true. Baz had feelings for me. All through school, all that time, Baz was pining after me from afar. And I never knew. Not a bit. But I think that was the idea.

“Alright,” I say.

Baz lifts his eyes slightly, cocking one eyebrow. “Alright? Is that all you have to say?”

I shrug high then drop my shoulders low. “I don’t know what else to say. That’s all. It changes a lot of things I assumed in school.”

“I bloody well hope so.” His voice is lighter, trying to lift the mood, trying to make this even slightly less than horribly awkward.

“So,” I say drawing out the o, “when, uh, did it start? You feeling like...that.”

If Baz’s blush could get any worse, I think it just did. He plays with his sleeves, his buttons, his hair, obviously looking for a distraction. “I realised it when I was 15. But I think, it started almost since we met.”

That hits me hard. The first year we met, I wore ratty old clothes and was essentially nonverbal. Baz saw me like that, a dirty silent little orphan kid, and he already liked me. He didn’t show it, but only because he couldn’t. He cared about me, even then. Even when so few truly did.

“Huh,” I say stupidly. “That’s a long time.”

He lets out a scoffing chuckle. “No shit, Snow.”

“That makes me feel even more sorry for being a prick to you in school.”

Baz shakes his head very quickly. “No, no, don’t apologize. I was a prick to you first. I just...” he sighs, rubbing his forehead. “In my family, I wasn’t supposed to be gay, let alone have feelings for someone they hated. I lashed out and hurt you because I was hurting. It was wrong.”

He sighs and sits down heavily on the couch. He looks so forlorn and ashamed, head hanging forward, his hair like a curtain. All the guilt seems to be pushing down on his shoulders, making him slump. Penny was right, as usual. But to hear it from Baz, to see him like this, it tugs on my heart. Like that time I caught him drunk in front of his mother’s grave when we were fifteen, or twice last night. He’s grown a lot and gotten happier, but a small part of Baz is still that sad kid, I guess.

Slowly, I walk towards him and sit down. Before I can think too much, I reach out and touch his hand. Baz’s head snaps up, completely terrified and shocked. Yet, he doesn’t pull away. One by one, I slip my fingers between his. Baz’s skin is such a strange contrast. My palm touches the smooth back of his hand, while fingers trace tiny rough ridges. It feels...really good.

“Hey,” I say quietly. “I know it’s been awhile, but what do you think about me now?”

I look him in the eye. I can see the way his lips shift, feel how his hand twitches. I wish I could hear what he’s thinking right now. He stays silent, so I decide to jump in.

“Well, let me start. I know what I think about you. I think,” I move closer, “that you’re kind, funny, smart, and still annoyingly gorgeous.” That makes his eyes widen ever so slightly. “And now I also know that you’re incredibly strong. That you struggled and mourned and came out okay. I mean, you’re a bloody doctor who’s going to help people work through their own problems. That’s amazing.”

Baz looks so shocked, probably both at my words and my coherency. I’ve gotten a lot better at speaking over the years. I’m so glad for that right now. “You really think all that, Snow?”

I smile and nod. “Yeah. I mean, I’ve always found you annoyingly amazing. Now it’s just not so annoying anymore.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Is it so hard to believe?”

Baz presses his lips together for a split second. “Honestly, yes. We hated each other for years, fought like cats and dogs. I assumed I had ruined any chance of that changing.”

“Well,” I move even closer so our thighs press together, “you didn’t. Because I like this.”

“What is this?”

“This!” I gesture wildly between us. “What we’re doing right now. I like this, I like you.”

He looks so shocked, yet there’s a twinkle of happiness too. “Like me how? As...a friend?”

And he calls me oblivious. I squeeze his hand again. “That depends. I know it’s been a long time, so have your...feelings about me gone away?”

Baz stares at me, studying my face. I just watch his eyes roam over me again and again. Then he reaches forward and delicately places his hand on my cheek, just like last night. Except it feels more purposeful. And so much better.

“No,” he says quietly, “they haven’t gone away. I don’t think they ever could.”

My body feels so light and happy and indescribably full. I’ve never felt like this before. Not with anyone. It’s hit me so suddenly, yet it feels so right. I’m grinning, I can’t stop grinning.

“Okay,” I say. “I feel the same.”

Baz’s hand falls, touching my arm. He raises a perplexed eyebrow. “Okay, but since when?”

I shrug, which makes Baz roll his eyes. “I’m not sure. All I know is that I do. That’s what really matters, right?”

He sighs. His hand moves up and down my arm. I can’t tell if he’s studying me or trying to hold on. “I suppose, yes.”

“Exactly. So why don’t we give it a shot?”

“What are you saying, Snow?”

“I’m saying I want to be your boyfriend.” Baz’s lips falls open and hand slips slightly down my arm. I hold onto him tighter. “Like, fair warning, I’m not a great boyfriend. I forget things, I’m super clumsy, and I haven’t dated anyone seriously since Agatha, so my experience is limited. But I like you. And I’m not asking for something serious right now, I just want to give this a try. Do you maybe want to?”

Baz’s face is such strange, confusing mixture. His brows are tense and pulled together. They scream worry and doubt. His thin beautiful lips hang open is absolute disbelief. But his eyes, a mix of dark blue and dark green, are filled to the brim with hope.

“I’m a doctor,” he blurts out.

“Um, yeah, I know,” I reply, trying not to laugh.

He shakes his head violently. “No, you don’t understand. I’m a medical resident. I’m at the hospital almost every day. I have barely any free time, and if I do I use it to sleep. And I don’t have much experience either. I’ve had two semi serious relationships that both ended in flames. I’m terrible at everything relationship related, probably even more than you, Snow.”

Baz looks so frantic and scared, but he’s hanging on to my hand. In spite of harsh realities, he doesn’t want to let go. I think he’s expecting me to admit defeat and walk away. But what he doesn’t seem to get, is that I don’t want to let go either.

I move closer, and cup his face this time. Baz instinctively leans into it. “You called me Simon before.”

He lets out a bursting laugh, sudden and unwanted. He immediately calms down, but there’s a little smile there. “Really? That’s what you care about?”

“Yeah. Because I like hearing you say it, and I like this. So,” I squeeze his hand again, “I want to try, no matter the risks. We’ll just deal with the rest later.”

He gives me a doubtful expression. “That’s your solution? Put off thinking about the problems we may face?”

“Yup. Because I want this, you want this, and that’s all that matters.”

“I guess...”

Stupid bastard still overthinks everything. I don’t want his mind far away, I want it right here with me. I brush my thumb over the soft skin of his cheek. “Plus, I’d rather focus on other things right now.”

“Oh? What things?”

“Well, more a question.” I deliberately move my hand lower, tracing under his bottom lip. “You said you wished you had kissed me when we were in school.”

He gulps. I watch his Adam’s apple bob slowly. “Yes, I did.”

“So, do you still want to kiss me?”

His eyes flick down, just for a moment. I can feel his hot breath on my face. “Yes.”

I smile, leaning close so our noses brush. “Then do it.”

Baz doesn’t ask for anymore assurance. He just leans forward, pressing his mouth to mine. And my mind completely implodes.

His lips are colder than Agatha’s, than anyone’s really. It’s like kissing a soft autumn breeze. Just chilly enough to send shivers over your skin. Yet when he takes my bottom lip between his teeth, I melt completely, leaning closer and wrapping my arms around his neck. He clutches my sides, hanging on with a death grip. Like he never wants to let me go. (I wouldn’t mind that.) It’s an awkward position, but I couldn’t care less anymore. I run my hand through his hair. It’s soft and slips through my fingers, just like I thought it would. I clench my fist and push his face into mine. I more feel him groan than hear it. He bunches my shirt in his own fists. I like him here, under my hands, not off being sad or drunk, where I know he’s okay. I’ve got you know, Baz, I’m not letting go.

From that first press of our lips, I know I want this. Baz feels perfect and wonderful. I want to kiss him forever. It’s strange, to have something you never knew you wanted before, and suddenly need to hang onto it forever.

We both pull apart at relatively the same time, flushed and out of breath. Baz’s eyes flutter open. His pupils are blown incredibly huge, and his lips are swollen and pink. I think mine are too, at least it feels like they are. I’ve never felt so elated from just one kiss. I’m sure I never will again.

“Wow,” I breathe out.

Baz lets out a breathy laugh, so quiet and sweet. “Very eloquent.”

I chuckle too, twisting a strand of his hair. “Yeah, well, that’s all I can manage right now. I think you broke my brain.”

“Don’t stroke my ego too much, Snow. I’ll get a big head.”

“You mean a bigger one?”

Baz glares, but when I flash one grin, his entire face melts. My heart melts too. It’s in a goddamn puddle on the floor forever.

Baz presses one hand to his temple, eyes squinting shut. “Bloody hell, all the drinking and excitement is too much for my head.”

“Did you take the aspirin I left?”

“Yes, but apparently that only does so much. I want coffee.”

“I’ve got some. Probably not very fancy, but it’s good enough. That alright?”

He flashes a lopsided grin. It’s incredibly sweet, making me smile in return. “That would be wonderful, Simon.”

God, I want to hear him say my name like that a thousand times.

We reluctantly untangle ourselves, but our hands stay linked. I lead Baz to my tiny dining room table. He sits on the far side, facing the open space of my kitchenette. My hand drags across his as we reluctantly let go. I walk into the room and flip on my ancient coffee machine.

“How do you take your coffee?” I say over my shoulder. “Black?”

“Actually, I like a lot of cream and sugar.”

I laugh loudly and smile at him. “Still have a sweet tooth, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

“Of course. I still remember how you would steal my mint aeros.”

“You have no proof of that, Snow,” he singsongs.

His voice is light and joking. I look over my shoulder, and see his soft smile. I want to see that smile all the time. I want to find out every little happy expression he has, the ones I never got to see when we were kids.

“I’ll find some,” I reply..

“It’ll take a lot of coaxing.”

I lean against the counter, looking at him. Really looking at him. Baz Pitch, the former arsehole bully, now the mostly well adjusted altruistic doctor, still someone who can occupy most of my thoughts. This is all new yet so familiar.

“Good thing we’ve got time,” I say.

Baz leans his cheek on his palm. From his calm, happy expression, I know he agrees. We’ve got time to not just catch up, but start something strange and beautiful and new.

And I’ve never been so excited in my life.

———————————————

AN: Is this a bit unrealistic? Yes. Is this super adorable? Also yes. Hope you guys thought the same. I def enjoy writing drunk Baz and switching it up so Simon has glasses this time. And I like Simon's total obliviousness to his own feelings. He's a dumb romantic little shit lol. Thanks for reading, see y'all next time :D

PS: XOYO is a real bar. Hopefully they don't have to deal with drunk traumatized psychiatry residents too much lol.

#carry on #snowbaz #simon snow #baz pitch #penelope bunce #normal au #reunion #enemies to friends to lovers #getting together #mysnowbazfic

84 notes · View notes

hushman · 5 years

Text

Curse you Pidge the Paladin

Summary:

Pidge the Paladin (known also as Agent P) is an agent for O.W.C.A. (the Organisation Without a Cool Acronym) and dedicated to helping keep the world safe. She does this by stopping the "nefarious” schemes of “Evil Genius” Lance McClain, founder of Lance McClain Evil Inc. and evil invention tester for L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. (the League Of Villainous Evildoers Maniacally United For Frightening Investments in Naughtiness). Armed with the best untested equipment L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. can supply him with, Lance will work tirelessly on his plans for global conquest, unless it's on the weekends, after 5pm or if he’s takes a personal day. Taking over the world is all fine and dandy but a good work-life balance is essential.

Rating: Everyone

Tags: Comedy, adventure,

My entry for the Plance Mini Bang over at @planceminibang

Special thank you to @oddreycharge for Beta reading this and to @perrytheplatypusgirl for making a gorgeous piece of art for this fic.

Check it here

You can read the story below or you can read it over at Archive of our Own

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19764709

Enjoy

****

Pidge, hotshot O.W.C.A. agent, arrived in her secret base in a teal smart suit, orange tie, brown fedora, and black-rimmed glasses. She sat down in her chair in front of a screen as her boss, Coran Smythe, appeared onscreen.

“Greetings, Agent P,” Coran said. “Our intelligence shows strange frequencies being transmitted from the headquarters of Lance McClain as well as “how to detect increase in bird behaviour” on his web history. Your mission is to go there and put a stop to whatever nefarious scheme he is up to. Best of luck, Agent P.”

Pidge gave a salute, climbed into her jet-powered hover car, and flew off just as her theme song was starting.

Dooby dooby doo-bah Dooby dooby doo-bah Dooby dooby doo-bah Dooby dooby doo-bah Pidge!

She's a computer savvy, tech loving lady of action! (Dooby dooby doo-bah) (Dooby dooby doo-bah) She's a scrappy young hacker, Who'll never flinch from a fray-ee-ay-ee-ay!

She's got more than just all that, Fe(Wah-ah-ah) She's got a snazzy suit and a hat, Fe(ah-ah) And the men all swoon whenever they hear her sa-a-a-ay

“Hold up, who said anything about swooning?”

She’s Pidge, Pidge the Paladin But you can call her Agent P. Pidge! I said you can call her Agent P! A-gent-P!

A short flight later, she arrived at Lance McClain Evil Incorporated by crashing through a skylight.

Waiting for her was Lance McClain in a lab coat and holding a remote.

“Ah, Pidge the Paladin, what an unexpected surprise,” Lance commented. “And by that I mean entirely expected!”

Lance pushed a button. A massive pole popped behind Pidge. Before she could react, a stream of bola flew in, tying her to the pole.

“It appears you have fallen for my cunning trap.”

“Cunning trap?” Pidge deadpanned. “This is the third time you've tried to use this thing. You even marked out on the floor where you wanted me to stand.”

“And yet, you fell for it,” Lance crowed in rebuttal.

Pidge gave as much of a shrug as her restraints allowed. “I wanted to see if you had fixed the aim on the bola launchers.”

Lance pursed his lips. “Fine, act all high and mighty tied to that pole while I enact my evil scheme.”

“And by “enact”, you mean tell some backstory to justify whatever hairbrained scheme and device you have today.”

Lance ignored this jab as he introduced his latest “tragic backstory”.

“You see, it harkens back to my miserable youth spent in my cold and unforgiving fatherland.”

“You grew up in Cuba.”

“It’s a metaphor,” Lance snapped back before continuing. "My siblings have always despised me."

"Just last week, you said Veronica was wrapped around your little finger and loved you with all her heart."

"That was last week,” Lance dismissed. “As I was saying, I was left to face the endless shame and ridicule from my elder siblings. But no more! Finally, they shall learn true terror with this: the Fowlagitationinator!”

Lance flung his arms flamboyantly towards the glorified satellite dish.

“So what exactly does it do?” Pidge asked.

“I am so very glad you asked.” Lance paused briefly as he failed to discreetly pull back his sleeve notes. “This device will emit a frequency that will increase the aggression in every bird within the city.” He read monotonously, “All urban activities will grind to a halt as everyone is terrorised by millions of feathery foes, leaving the city ripe for the taking.” His voice and arms pitched in confidence, dropping his speaker notes in the process.

“Millions?” Pidge raised an eyebrow. “I think you’re overestimating the city’s bird population.”

“I was going for dramatic effect.” Lance let out a groan. “Look, you’re here to thwart my schemes, not criticise them.”

“Fair enough,” Pidge conceded. “Speaking of thwart...”

At that moment, the restraints fell off her body.

“So, did it actually take you this long to escape, or were you waiting for me to finish talking?”

“Didn’t want to be rude.”

Pidge pounced at Lance with a jump kick. The man dodged with a last minute swivel, just barely missing Pidge’s boot. While the first strike had not connected, it had placed her between Lance and the device. He tried to throw a right hook at her. Pidge ducked and delivered a double palm strike to Lance’s abdomen.

“Your gut feels firmer,” Pidge commented. “Have you been working out?”

“Why yes, I have. Thank you for noti..Argh!” Lance was interrupted by Pidge flooring him with a roundhouse kick.

“Are you ever going to not fall for the compliment sucker punch?” The agent snorted.

She fell to ground with a yelp when Lance yanked one of her legs.

“It’s not a crime to appreciate it when you notice the effort I put into this body,” Lance replied as he stood up and wiped his mouth to check for blood. “Speaking of which, would you stop going for the face?”

“Sure.”

Lance managed to catch Pidge’s foot before it connected with his groin.

“Not what I meant.”

Lance flung Pidge by her leg across the room, causing her to hit the brick wall with a crash. He raced to press the large red button on the device. Pidge fired her grappling gun. The cable shot out, wrapping around Lance’s arm and pulling him back. He managed to get his arm free from his lab coat in time to bring his guard up against a furious onslaught of limbs.

What followed was a series of back-and-forth blows. While Lance had a higher endurance, Pidge was harder to hit. This continued unabated until he picked up a nearby chair. Pidge snatched a stool of her own.

Before either of them could take a swing, a ringtone interrupted the battle. Both Lance and Pidge put down the chairs.

“Is that your phone or mine?” Lance asked.

“Yours,” Pidge replied. “I changed my ringtone last week.”

“Huh.” Lance checked his phone. “It’s my brother. I’d better take this.”

Pidge nodded her consent as Lance answered the phone.

“Hey Luis, how’s it going?...Not too bad. Same old, same old...Yeah, she’s here to thwart my scheme...Nah, it’s fine, what’s up? Sure I can watch them tonight...not a problem at all...You’ll be here at 7? Yeah, that's fine.” Lance looked up and saw Pidge pointing to her watch. “Listen I’d better get back to work but I’ll see you tonight...Love you too.”

Lance hung up and put away the phone.

“Thanks for that, so do you want go back to chairs?”

“Nah, the moment’s gone.”

“Fair enough.”

Pidge proceeded to duck and perform a leg sweep, causing Lance to fall to the ground. As he picked himself up, Pidge raced over to the device. She pushed the self-destruct button and pulled out her grappling gun. She fired out a line, yanking herself through the skylight as the device exploded.

“CURSE YOU, PIDGE THE PALADIN!” Lance yelled.

Once he was certain was alone, he picked up a broom and started cleaning up the debris.

“You know, just once, it would be nice for her to stick around to help with the clean up.”

****

Lance had just finished sending his report to head office when the doorbell rang. He opened the door and was tackled by two blurs of energy.

“Come on you two, don’t break Uncle Lance within the first two minutes.”

“Hey, I can take it,” Lance laughed. “How about you both pick a game on the gameflux?”

At that sentence, the two raced off to where the gameflux was set up.

“I swear that thing is 90% of the reason they like me babysitting,” Lance commented.

“Well, that and the fact you usually offer pizza,” Luis said. “So you okay? You’re developing a bit of a bruise.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Lance replied. “The agent O.W.C.A. assigned to me just got a lucky hit in.”

“The compliment sucker punch?” Luis asked.

“Gets me every time.”

“You know, man, you really need to see about getting out of that franchise.”

“Eh…” Lance gave a non-committal shrug. “It’s not that bad. Besides, we both know it takes three million dollars to buy out of the place before the two years are up. I got into this mess. I can take the lumps to wait it out.”

“Just promise me you’ll stay safe.”

“Trust me it’s fine. Sure, that woman kicks my butt on a regular basis, but at least we’re keeping things professional.”

Luis rolled his eyes. “Only you would consider being punched in the face as professional.”

“Well, it kinda is her job to punch me in the face since I am technically trying to take over the city slash country slash world.”

“That sounds like the best job in the world.”

“Love you too, bro.”

With a quick hug, Luis left. 20 minutes after watching his niece and nephew screech at each other in Combat Cousins X, Lance heard the doorbell.

He answered the door. Standing there was Katie Holt, holding a couple of pizza boxes.

“Battle supplies as requested,” she said with a wink.

“Thanks, Katie. You're a lifesaver.”

“Oh please, considering the stuff I’ve seen you survive, you’re practically immortal,” Katie replied flippantly.

Lance scowled at her suspiciously. “What exactly have you seen me survive?”

“For starters, Charlene LeManche.”

“Objection withdrawn.”

Katie’s watch started vibrating.

“Excuse me.”

She stepped out onto the balcony. Satisfied that Lance had given her privacy, she activated her watch to see an image of Coran.

“Hope I’m not bothering, Agent P,” Coran said. “I just wanted to congratulate you another job well done.”

“Thanks, Coran. Though if you don’t mind, I’d better head back inside. Secret identity to maintain and all that.”

“Of course. Have a good night, Agent P.”

Katie hung up on Coran and went back inside. Tomorrow, she would probably be kicking Lance’s butt again, but she was perfectly satisfied with beating him at Pancake Dojo 2 whilst enjoying a slice of pepperoni pizza tonight.

****

It was Tuesday morning. Lance had finished his breakfast and was savouring the first sip of coffee. The blissful start was interrupted by the doorbell. He answered the door to find several men with crates.

“Morning, guys,” Lance said as he stepped aside to let the movers in.

After everything was moved into the open space “Evil Lair” area, Lance got to work opening first crate.

“Alright, let’s see what L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. cooked up for me today.”

Lance pulled out a letter from his superior. The latest device was something called the Vapourmatroninator. Apparently, there was a little extra assembly required.

After all the other crates were opened, Lance realised that that by “a little extra assembly”, they meant that this assemble would be bigger than a minivan, yet not a single piece was bigger than the palm of his hand.

“No worries. So long as the instructions are clear, I’ll just work through it piece by piece.”

Not only were the instructions incomprehensible, Lance wasn’t even sure that it was in English. After an hour of failing to make any headway, he picked up his phone.

“Hey Hunk, I need some help with building the latest world conquest machine… I know what I’m doing. It’s these instructions that make no sense...Look, can you come help me without making fun of me?...Alright, but can you still come or not?...Thanks, Hunk. You’re the best.”

****

Pidge kicked open the door to Lance McClain Evil Inc. at 4 p.m. on the dot.

She was ready to get her thwart on when she saw Hunk working on the device. He looked up to see Pidge standing there.

“Katie? What are you doing here?” Hunk asked. “And what are you wearing?”

Before Pidge could answer, Lance walked in.

“Hi Pidge, sorry I’m running a little behind so I had to call in some help.”

“Wait, this is Pidge?” Hunk asked in disbelief.

“Oh right, where are my manners?” Lance said. “Hunk, this is my nemesis Pidge. Pidge, this is my friend Hunk.”

“This is Pidge?” Hunk asked again. “As in the person that thwarts your plans daily.”

“Well, it's more of a Monday to Friday basis, gotta keep that work life balance, but yes. That’s her.” Lance answered “What’s your point?”

“Lance, that’s...argh!”

Hunk was interrupted by Pidge grabbing his arm and twisting it behind his back.

“Shut up,” Pidge hissed to Hunk. “Play along and I’ll explain everything later.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, Pidge! Let him go this instant!” Lance scolded.

Pidge complied.

“Hunk doesn’t work for L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. He's just helping me out as a favour. Do whatever you want with me, but I will not have you attacking my friends!”

Pidge looked genuinely remorseful as Lance took out some money and handed it to her.

“Now you are going to say sorry to Hunk, and then you’re going to go the donut shop and pick up a dozen lemon cream-filled donuts with passionfruit sprinkles. When you get back, he should be done with the Inator and then you can thwart me.”

Pidge complied, sending Hunk one last pleading looking before heading out the door.

“Sorry about that,” Lance said to Hunk. “She honestly isn’t that bad, she’s just a little wound up at times.”

Hunk eyed Lance with utter astonishment.

“And she doesn’t remind you of anyone?” He pressed.

Lance paused thoughtfully.

“Now that you mention it, with that fedora, she kinda looks like Indiana Jones.”

“You think she looks like Indiana Jones?” Hunk asked, clearly not sure how to react.

“Kinda.”

“So when are you next due for an eye exam?”

“Next year, I think. Why?”

“Might want to move that forward.”

****

Pidge arrived with the donuts just as Hunk finished assembling the Inator. She handed them over Hunk he packed up his tools.

“Well, I better be out of your way,” he declared as he headed for the door with tools and donuts in tow.

“Leaving so soon?” Lance asked.

“Yeah, as much fun as it would be to watch you getting thwarted, I’d rather not watch the device I worked so hard on get destroyed.”

“Fair enough, catch ya later.”

Hunk shot Pidge a meaningful glance before leaving.

He hopped in the elevator and waited for the ding signalling the ground floor. Just as he exited the building, the Vapourmatroninator crashed onto the sidewalk, inches from his ears.

He could faintly hear Lance yell, “CURSE YOU, PIDGE THE PALADIN!”

****

A while later, Hunk and Pidge, in her civilian attire, were at Hunk’s favourite sandwich place. Only after he was halfway through his sandwich was he ready to address the elephant in the room.

“Alright, Katie, tell me what the heck is going on.”

“Okay.” Pidge took in a deep breath. “You remember that internship I took with a think tank? Well, that think tank is a secret government agency, and that internship is more of a field agent position.”

“So, who do you work for? The CIA?”

“No, I work for O.W.C.A., the Organisation Without a Cool Acronym.” Pidge watched Hunk raise an eyebrow. “Look, the name isn’t great, but they do good work.”

“And why exactly are you kicking Lance’s butt on a daily basis?”

“When Lance signed on to an employment contract with L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. that marked him as an ‘evil genius’, O.W.C.A. protocol is to assign an agent to be a nemesis to every evil genius. This was my first nemesis assignment, so the higher ups wanted to assign me to something lighter to chew on.”

“And the fact that you and Lance being friends isn’t against policy?”

“It would be if Lance recognised me,” Pidge explained. “I would get reassigned and he would get a new nemesis. I’ve been busting his scheme for nearly a year, and I thank whatever miracle that he still hasn’t worked out that I’m his nemesis.”

“How can he not know? All you do is put on a hat and glasses. You don’t even change your voice!”

“Look, are we really going to debate Lance’s intelligence? He has some strong suits, but he signed on to an evil organisation because their name was L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. And it took three weeks of being friends with him before he realised I was a girl.”

“To be fair, we were 12 at the time, but I see your point,” Hunk conceded. “But why stay as Lance’s nemesis? Franchise or not, you know Lance isn’t evil. Wouldn’t you rather spend your time taking down real bad guys?”

“Three reasons,” Pidge explained. “First, if I don’t do it, O.W.C.A. will send someone else, someone who will actually think he's evil. Second, Lance has been a surprisingly useful asset in undermining L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N.

Any tech that fails with Lance tends to get scrapped, so stopping Lance also prevents some of the actually dangerous tech from being used by actual evil geniuses.”

“And the third?”

“Being Lance’s nemesis means that my work day is usually done by 5 and I get weekends off. Nothing wrong with appreciating a good work/life balance.”

Hunk rolled his eyes at this. “Alright, so what happens now?”

“Well it’s up to you,” Pidge explained. “Standard procedure would be to take you in to have your memory erased.”

Hunk choked on a piece of sandwich. A long sip of his drink helped him to speak again.

“Erase my memory?”

“Just the events of today,” Pidge assured him. “But if you promised to keep this secret under wraps I could conveniently forget the part where you recognised me when I file my report.”

Hunk deliberated for a moment. “Alright, I don’t like keeping this from Lance, but I’m not risking forgetting my great aunt’s banoffee pie recipe over this.”

“Thanks Hunk,” Pidge said gratefully.

“Though if you ask me, the real reason you like this gig is because you get to spend all your time with Lance.” Hunk emphasised his statement with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle.

Pidge glared at Hunk. “Don’t make me change my mind.”

“That wasn’t a no,” Hunk singsonged.

Pidge was about to respond only to let out a cough.

“You alright?”

“It’s nothing,” Pidge replied.

****

Wednesday morning was somewhat easier for Lance. The day’s Inator came in mostly assembled. So now all he had to do was wait for Pidge to arrive.

An hour later still had no Pidge. He was starting to worry. Just then, his phone rang. He answered for only to have his ear fill with the noise of hacking.

“Hey Lance,” Katie said in between coughs. “Sorry I can't make game night.”

“Jeez Katie, you don’t sound good.”

“It’s fine, just gotta rest up and I’ll recover soon.” She let out more coughs.

After hanging up with his friend, Lance felt conflicting emotions swirling in his chest. He really wanted to check on Katie, but he was also meant to be trying to take over the city in time to get thwarted.

It certainly was a dilemma.

****

Allura the Altruist was on her way home from stopping her nemesis when she got a call from Coran.

“Great work, Agent A. Though would you stopping by Lance McClain Evil Inc? Agent P is not feeling well.”

“Right away, Coran.”

Flying her car over to Lance’s evil lair, she parked her car on the roof and dropped elegantly through the sky light, ready to battle. To her surprise, the lair was completely abandoned. She then noticed a large device in plain sight with a note attached.

Dear Pidge,

Sorry I can’t be there. Had to go check on a sick friend. I’ve marked out the self destruct button. See you tomorrow.

Lance McClain

P.S. Curse you, Pidge the Paladin!

Against her better judgement, Allura pressed the marked out button. As she left the ruins of the lair, she couldn’t help but wonder if O.W.C.A should reassess Lance’s threat level.

****

“Here you are, Katie,” Lance said as he carried in a steaming bowl of soup.

“Thank you,” the sick girl wheezed as she took the soup. “You didn’t have to come over to take care of me. Don’t you have work?”

“It's all good,” Lance said dismissively. “I’ve got it covered. Besides, I wouldn’t leave you hanging.”

Katie blushed. If asked, she would claim it was fever.

****

On Thursday, a recovered Pidge arrived at Lance McClain Evil Incorporated, refreshed and ready for a day of thwarting. She flew in through an open window. As she arrived in the lair, she realised Lance wasn’t there.

“Er...hello?”

“Pidge! I’ll be right there,” Lance called out before coughing.

A dishevelled and ill-looking Lance stepped into the lair. He was still in his pyjamas and his lab coat was crooked.

“What a...an unexpected sur…” Lance started coughing again. “Sorry, think I might’ve caught something from my friend.”

Pidge looked at Lance in dismay. “You should be in bed,” she scolded.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Lance insisted. “So, behold my… achoo!.... Latest invention the...Something...inator!”

Lance gestured towards a crate that was barely even opened.

“With this I...shall take over the...world.” Lance’s half-hearted speech was shot through with more coughing.

“Lance, seriously, go to bed. I can come back and stop you tomorrow.”

“No, I flaked on you yesterday. I’m not going to do it twice.” Lance raised his fists, staggering slightly as he fought to keep balance. “Thwart me if you dare.”

Rather than fight, Pidge took hold of his hand and dragged him to the kitchen. She pushed him into a chair and silently heated up a can of chicken soup. She plopped the bowl in front of him and said, “Eat.” After making him eat all of it, she hauled him to his bedroom. She took off his lab coat and pushed him into his bed.

“There,” she quipped as she draped a blanket over him. “I’ve thwarted you. Now get some rest.”

“Curse you Pidge the...zzzzz,” Lance was asleep before he was even able to finish his sentence.

Not too long after, Katie arrived to check up on Lance.

****

Friday came as Pidge arrived at the hideout.

“Ah Pidge the Paladin, so nice to see you,” Lance greeted. “Sorry about dropping the ball the last couple of days. Still, I promise to make up for it as I unleash my TRINITY OF TERROR!”

There was a dramatic orchestra and flashes of lightning.

“Head office finally approved your effects budget?” PIdge asked.

“Why yes, thank you for noticing. Anyhoo, behold! The Degravitinator!” Lance held out a handheld, ray-gun-looking device. “Capable of disrupting the personal gravity of its victims. Behold the Plantinator!” He gestured towards a device with a large antenna. “Capable of sending out a pulse that will cause all the plants in the city area to grow at an uncontrollable rate. And finally the DX7J.” He pointed to a large cubic machine. “Capable of...something equally evil, I guess.” He noticed Pidge’s raising eyebrow. “Cut me some slack, not only did I have to finish building yesterday’s device, head office sent me two inators instead of one today. It's a miracle I know what the first two do.”

“And you had time to set up the special effects?”

“Look, are we going to fight or waste time criticizing my workplace priorities?”

Lance jumped back just in time to dodge a right hook from Pidge. He aimed the ray gun at Pidge and fired. Pidge jumped out of the way, narrowing missing the purple ray that shot out. The ray instead hit a nearby couch. It glowed purple as it started to float. Lance continued firing at Pidge. The agent kept ducking until a desk, several crates and a metal barrel were floating.

“Darn it!” Lance muttered. “Why didn’t they put a decent sight on this thing?”

Pidge leapt onto a floating crate, hoping to get high ground. She leapt to another crate to avoid the ray. She finally lunged at Lance with a flying kick. The kick hit Lance squarely in the chest before he could let out another shot. He fell back to the ground and accidentally pulled the trigger.

A purple beam shot out and hit the Plantinator. The Inator started to float in the air. Seeing her opportunity, Pidge kicked with all her might. It flew out the open balcony door. It then came to a rest between the two buildings.

Both Lance and Pidge stared at the floating Inator.

“Honestly, I wasn’t sure I was expecting,” Pidge admitted.

“Well, we can’t leave that out there,” Lance said. “Eventually, the ray will wear off, and it'll fall onto incoming traffic. I already got a citation for what happened with the Vapourmatroninator. I don’t need another.”

“Fair enough, any ideas?”

“Do you have your grappling gun?”

“In shop getting a tune up. You?”

“The winch on mine broke and I’m still waiting for the replacement to arrive. How about your hover car?”

“Came here on the moped today.”

“Fair enough.”

Lance turned a dial on the ray gun and aimed it at the floating Inator. He fired a red ray that vapourised the floating inator.

“That thing has a disintegrator setting?” Pidge asked in shock.

“Yeah, you really think that would be the main feature of this thing.”

“If it could do that, then why were you bothering with the gravity setting?”

“I’m not firing a disintegrator ray in my own lair,” Lance said indignantly.

“That’s surprisingly responsible of you.”

“Thank you.”

“Still got to destroy it.”

“Fair enough,” Lance replied as he turned the ray gun back to gravity mode.

Lance spun round, firing the ray gun at Pidge. Pidge dropped and sweeped out Lance’s legs, causing him fall flat on his back. “Nice move,” Lance said, winded but clearly impressed.

“Thanks.”

Pidge picked up the nearby raygun and smashed it against the handrail. She then started to head back inside to deal with the DX7J only for Lance to snatch her foot, tripping her up.

Lance scurried to place himself between Pidge and the DX7J.

What followed was another fist fight. Lance was holding his own until Pidge hit him with kick to the gut, knocking him backwards.

Lance bumped into the DX7J, turning it on. Sounds of moving parts and sloshing liquid echoed in the machine. Shortly afterwards, there was a loud ding and a small hatch on the device opened to reveal a cup of steaming liquid.

Curious, Lance picked up the cup and sniffed it. He then proceeded to take a sip, much to the panic of Pidge.

“False alarm,” Lance said. “This isn’t an Inator. It’s the coffee machine I ordered.”

“You ordered a coffee machine?”

“Yeah, and not just any coffee machine. This is top of the line, does everything from expressos to cappuccinos.”

“That sounds pricey.”

“I charged it to the head office,” Lance replied. “They’re an evil organisation trying to take over the world - the least they can do is fuel my caffeine addiction.” He proceeded to take another sip from his coffee.

Pidge nodded; she couldn’t really fault the logic.

“Wait, does that mean I already thwarted you?” She questioned.

Lance paused his drinking.

“Huh...I guess so...Oh well. CURSE YOU, PIDGE THE PALADIN!” He hollered before returning to his normal tone. “Do you want a coffee for the road? I’ve got a travel mug I can lend you.”

“Can that machine do a Chai Latte?”

Lance scoffed. “Do you honestly think I would charge my boss top dollar for a coffee machine that couldn’t do Chai Lattes?”

****

“So glad we managed to switch game night,” Lance said as he brought in a bowl of chips.

“I’m just glad neither of us are mucus factories anymore,” Pidge commented.

“I’m just glad I didn’t catch it,” Hunk commented. “So care to explain how all that stuff is floating?”

“Today’s evil invention was an antigravity ray.”

“Antigravity ray?” Hunk repeated in surprise. “How does that work?”

“I aimed the ray gun, pulled the trigger and then whatever got zapped with it would start floating.”

“No, I mean…” Hunk paused as the realisation of who he was talking to struck. “Nevermind.”

“I don’t get what the end game was,” Pidge commented “As cool as it is, I just don’t get how your bosses expected you to take over the world with an antigravity ray.”

“They don’t really look at how so much as they just throw whatever random idea that comes to them at me and wait to see what happens.” Lance explained. “I’m still not sure how I was supposed to take over the world with an iguana cannon.”

“Buddy, you really need to get out of this gig,” Hunk affirmed.

“Would love to, but we all know that’s not going to happen until my contract expires. Besides it's not so bad. I set my own hours, I don’t pay rent on this place and I now have a coffee machine. Speaking of coffee, you guys want one? It's pretty good.”

“I’m good,” Hunk said.

“Chai Latte, please,” Pidge requested absentmindedly.

Lance paused and stared at Pidge suspiciously.

“How do you know it can do Chai Lattes?”

“Would you honestly invest in a coffee machine that couldn’t do Chai Lattes?”

Lance let out a laugh.

“You got me there. One Chai Latte coming up."

As Lance went over to the coffee machine, Hunk turned to Pidge.

“You know, eventually, he is going to figure it out.”

“Agree to disagree,” Pidge replied as she watched Lance come back with her latte.

Lance handed to the latte to her. As she took a sip, Lance spoke.

“So guys, I’ve been wondering. Should I invite Pidge to join us for games night?”

PIdge did a spit take.

“Sorry,” she sputtered. “It’s a little hot.”

Hunk kept his composure.

“You want to invite the person whose job is to kick your butt on a daily basis to games night?”

“Alright firstly, I can hold my own just fine.”

“Have you ever stopped her from destroying your stuff?”

“Well, no, but that’s not the point,” Lance argued. “Neither of us take the whole thwarting thing personally, and she’s the closest thing I have to a work colleague that I actually like.”

“You like her?” Pidge asked, not really sure how to process this.

“Well sure, she’s skilled, self assured, witty and honestly kind of a badass,” Lance replied.

“She also wails on you almost every time you face off,” Hunk added.

“No one’s perfect,” Lance replied. “Come on, what could it hurt to ask her? If she says yes, it will be a chance to get to know her better.”

“If you feel so strongly, I think you should do it,” Pidge replied.

“What?” Hunk said in dismay.

“Great, next time I see her I’ll ask,” He looked down and realised his hands were empty. “Whoops, forgot my coffee.”

As he went to get it, Hunk turned back to Pidge.

“I know this week has been full of shocking revelations, but how do you plan to be two places at once?”

“I won’t have to,” Pidge replied. “I’ll simply say that O.W.C.A. forbids me from fraternising with supervillains outside of work.”

“You know that’s only going to be a temporary fix.”

“It will do for now,” Pidge replied. “I’ll cross that bridge when I reach it.”

“Yup,” Hunk replied. “Keep telling yourself that.”

#plance #plance au #plance mini bang #Lance #Pidge #Hunk #phineas and ferb #Lance being lance #bless him he is trying #flirtyrobot #Evil Genius Lance #Secret Agent Pidge

92 notes · View notes