#i was going to hold onto him until the next chapter he cameos in but i was going to explode
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ok so ok ok ok so so so i just had to doodle him... my poor little wet creature..... my silly little guy that ive put in One Situation Too Many..... Alton Beckett, the catalyst of MOM who has used his evil powers to convince the world Kotetsu and Barnaby are dating (i mean is it really evil if he's right......)
Alton Beckett is a resident of Stern Bild living in the Brox area who seemed very easy to dismiss the first time Barnaby met him. Despite his ragged looks, he claims to work as the managing director of a well-known theater in the arts district. He's a big fan of HeroTV! Wild Tiger and Barnaby are his faves.... right after Mr. Legend, of course!
His NEXT status is currently unknown.
#original character do not steal#tiger & bunny#tiger and bunny#tnb#oc#kurawrites#kurarambles#hes my son who has every disease#i was going to hold onto him until the next chapter he cameos in but i was going to explode#so here please take good care fo him he likes poptarts#ill be back to pick him up after work#i think im getting manic again#kuraarts#kuraart
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Chapter 3- The Letter
Summary: The US Navy had fled allowing the Japanese control of the sea, leaving the marines to fight the battle for Guadalcanal alone. They were vastly undersupplied, and many were on the verge of starvation and some at the mercy of malaria. As thousands of Japanese reinforcements poured onto the island, Kate, Blanche, and the boys were strafed and bombed relentlessly. It was during these harsh times Kate found herself becoming closer to the guys and in a constant state of worry when Hoosier isn't where she could hear or see him.
A/N: Mature audience, BillHoosierSmithx!FemMedic, WW2, OC/Kate Danaher, Female Pronouns, Cursing/Swearing, Derogatory Slurs, Womanizing Comments, Military and Medical Terminology, Inappropriate Nicknames, HBO The Pacific References, Mentions/Descriptions of Death, Blood, Weaponry, Smoking, 💚Very small Band of Brothers cameo quote…if you blink you might miss it💚
Story takes place Episode 2 Basilone Chapters 1-5
*These stories may not fall entirely in accordance with the TV series timeline. I do not know the real Marines the actors portray in this series, so please understand I show no disrespect. Some or most of historical events and character interactions in my fanfics are fabricated purely for the sake of the enjoyment of fiction*
~~~~~~~
Guadalcanal
September 1942
“What’s wrong with him?” Sgt Stone asked Kate while she kneeled over a young marine.
She had been holding a thermometer to the man’s mouth, and when she removed it, it read 105.
“His temp is 105. He’s clammy and sweating bullets but says he feels cold-has to be malaria, sarge.” Kate finalized with a frown.
Sgt Stone shook his head, “He’s the fifth marine to catch this shit.”
“He won’t survive here if he stays. I don’t have anything to treat him with since that cruiser sank with all the supplies we needed.”
Sgt Stone nodded, “I’ll try to arrange for transport if it’s available. We’re pretty much on our own out here.”
Kate nodded, “I’ll do what I can for him, sir.”
~~~~~~~
H Company was due to push forward the following day upon hearing D Company making contact with the enemy some 15 miles ahead. The men were instructed to police their gear to be ready by 0500 the next morning for the convoy. Around sunset, Hoosier scavenged beyond the camp for anything palatable to bring back to his buddies and himself for dinner.
Leckie, Runner, Chuckler, Sid, and Gibson sat in a 7’ by 8’ foxhole they had dug for all of them to fit in.
As darkness engulfed the island and thunder rolled through, Hoosier returned with chow.
“Supper’s on, supper’s on.” he announced as he jumped into the hole.
“Anything good?” Gibson asked hopefully.
“What are those?” Runner asked skeptically.
“Army rations from 1918. Quartermaster at Dog Company claims they’re edible-” Hoosier began as he handed each of them a small, unmarked package of food.
He noticed the look of disgust stretching across each of their faces as they tried biting into the stale hard-tack crackers that were stiff enough to crack their teeth.
“-after you suck on them for about an hour or two.” Hoosier added.
“This is all you could find?” Chuckler asked.
“You fuckin’ forage next time.” Hoosier spat back.
They all begrudgingly continued to eat.
Kate appeared kneeling over the edge of their foxhole.
“Hey, guys. Just making rounds. Everyone doin’ ok?” she asked.
“Yeah, just havin’ some dinner while Leckie reads us his letter to his girl back home.” Runner replied playfully.
“Who said I was writing to anyone?” Leckie retorted.
“Come on, you can tell us. Go on, read it.” Chuckler pushed.
“We’d do it for you.” Runner added.
“Guys, leave him alone.” Kate chuckled, knowing it was all in good fun.
Leckie shook his head and returned to writing on his pad of paper.
“So, you guys are ok, then?” Kate reiterated.
They collectively responded, “yeah yeah,” knowing she’d keep on them until they answered her.
“Ok, good. Make sure you keep hydrating, too. See you guys later.” she reminded them before standing and walking off.
“Speaking of girls; how’s that bet going Hoosier?” Runner asked.
“I’d say I’m in the lead.” he stated assertively.
“That’s because I’m giving you a head start! She won’t be able to resist me once I’ve unleashed my charm on her.” Chuckler countered.
“Yeah, and he’s a Corporal now! The ladies love rank.” Runner pointed out.
Hoosier scoffed, “Yeah? Well, I don’t think she’s that type of girl. She’s not impressed by the number of stripes on a marine’s sleeves.”
“How would you know?” Chuckler asked.
“I had a little visit with her yesterday. Sat and talked to her for about two hours sipping on that shit Jap wine that we had left.” Hoosier revealed.
They all stared at him waiting for him to continue, but he remained silent knowing the anticipation was killing them.
“And!?” Leckie prompted.
“And she told me she was only here to do her part for her country by keeping us alive. No matter what I said or did to “charm” her, she went right back into talkin’ about medical mumbo-jumbo or about her two brothers in the 101st airborne,” he paused, “she’s actually real smart.” Hoosier explained.
“Well, maybe you just don’t got it like I do.” Chuckler returned.
Hoosier laughed, “Have it at, pal, I’m tellin’ ya, she’s a tough cookie to crumble. She doesn’t melt over the same things most dames do. You’ll have your work cut out for you.”
“We’ll see!” Chuckler shot back confidently.
~~~~~~~
By midafternoon the next day, H Company caught up with D Company, setting up outlook posts about a mile away in case the enemy approached. With an entire battalion in the same area, a proper aid station was available with tables and cots to tend to the wounded and sick. There was also a chow tent serving hot meals which none of the men have seen in weeks.
Hoosier, Leckie, Chuckler, and Runner sat in a semi-circle with their plates of hot rice.
“I hear the army finally landed.” Leckie shared.
“Nice of them to join the party.” Runner stated sarcastically.
“They have no idea what they’re walking into.” Chuckler added.
“Yeah, well word is they came with loads of crates filled with some good shit.” Hoosier voiced.
“Oh yeah?” Leckie asked, his interest piqued.
“Maybe we can get at some of that!” Chuckler suggested.
“If you do, see if you can get some clean bandages, and some morphine. And get me some goddam scissors, I can’t get any.” Kate requested as she walked past the group after hearing them scheming about the army supply delivery.
“Yes, ma’am!” Chuckler confirmed enthusiastically as he shot a cheeky grin at Hoosier.
Hoosier released an exasperated sigh as he rolled his eyes at him,
“You’re a fuckin’ idiot, Juergens.”
~~~~~~~
As the Army staged the dozens of wooden crates and drawstring laundry bags on the beach, an air raid siren sounded off alerting the men of an enemy attack. The newcomer soldiers, unaware that the siren was signifying the attack on the airfield and not the beach, started running for cover leaving the boxes and bags unattended and up for grabs.
The marines waiting in the brush of the jungle like predators waiting to pounce, watched as the last few soldiers disappeared before they took advantage of the situation.
Platoons of marines scattered out of the tree line like roaches, breaking open boxes and foot lockers, and dumping bags to grab what they could before the army came back.
Hoosier found a good-sized crate with a red cross insignia painted on it.
“Has to be scissors in here.” he thought outloud to himself.
He looked around and found a crowbar lying on the ground. Snatching it up, he got to work on opening the box. As he removed the final nail, he pushed the cover off revealing an assortment of medical supplies to include cases of morphine and first aid kits.
Hoosier scanned the area around him, “Hey Runner! Come here!”
Runner trotted over to him and looked into the box, “Nice, you found the medic supply.”
“Help me grab a few of these, will ya?” Hoosier asked as he handed him a couple cases of morphine.
“Why don’t you ask Chuckler?” Runner teased as he tucked the box under is arm.
Hoosier laughed, “You snooze, you lose.”
Runner snickered as he grasped the handles of three syrette cans in his right hand while slinging a sack filled with tactically acquired treasures over his left shoulder.
Leckie ran over, “Here! Throw some of those in the bag so we can carry more back.”
He presented a large empty duffel bag for Hoosier to throw more syrette cases and first aid kits in.
“Perfect.” Hoosier commended.
As he tossed as many as he could into the bag, the army rushed back shooing the marines away. The marines took off running towards their camp, each cackling triumphantly at the soldiers behind them.
~~~~~~~
After the excitement settled down, Hoosier, Chuckler, Sid, Gibson and Runner sat in a more secluded area of camp shifting through the prizes they obtained. Leckie sauntered up while carrying his drawstring bag of goods, sporting his new pair of moccasin slippers to the foxhole as a campfire kindled.
“Anything happen while I was prospecting?” Leckie asked the group outloud.
“Betty Hutton stopped by giving out blowjobs,” Hoosier replied, “What’d you get?”
Leckie took a seat on the log and showed off the items he got. While he was handing out cans of peaches to the guys, Kate approached them.
“Hey, guys, did you hear that the army was looted during the air raid earlier toda-”
She stopped a few feet behind Hoosier as Chuckler was waving a can of peaches at Runner who had been sitting by the tree line with his pants down dealing with a bad case of diarrhea.
“Peaches? I’ve got the goddam runs, and you had to get peaches.” Runner hissed at Leckie.
“They were all out of cheese, Runner.” Leckie called back.
The puzzle pieces started to come together as she looked over the scene in front of her. She noticed Leckie with a pair of comfy patent leather house shoes on, the multiple cans of fruit, and the brand-new M-1 rifles next to each man where they sat. She watched as Leckie excitedly carved an opening in his can, eager to eat the peaches and drink the nectar inside.
“Uh, Bob, you’ll wanna take that slowly,” she cautioned, “you haven’t had real food for weeks, you might-”
“I’ll be fine, Ace.” Leckie insisted cutting her off.
Not at all heeding her warning, he inhaled the peaches and sugary liquid from his can. He slowly lowered it looking suddenly alarmed and pale, apparently regretting his hasty decision. He began gagging as he rushed over not too far from where Runner was and vomited the peaches he just consumed onto the grass in front of him.
Runner laughed at Leckie, pleased and entertained by his misery.
“Ugh, I told you, Leckie.” Kate pointed out with her hands on her hips shaking her head at him.
The others sniggered as they slowly ate from their cans so as not to end up like Leckie.
“Well, I was going to ask if you guys heard the air raid siren earlier, but I assume you did.” she continued as she crossed her arms in a motherly fashion.
The guys responded with a collective, “Mmhm.”
She waited, her lips pursed together as she scanned each of them with skepticism to see if they’d own up to what they had been doing during the air raid. They remained quiet, hanging their heads as they avoided eye contact with her while eating their peaches. She already knew, though. She just wanted to see if they’d confess without her outright asking them. She shook her head again, deciding it best to let it go.
“Hey, Ace-” Runner called out to Kate, “my ass is killing me, can’t you do anything about this??” he begged.
“Is there blood?” Kate asked invasively outloud in front of the guys.
Runner’s eyebrows creased together inquisitively, “Huh?”
Kate huffed irritably and walked closer to Runner, “Is there blood in your stool?” she clarified, speaking slowly. The others groaned in disgust, each placing their cans down.
“Um-” Runner looked over his shoulder, “-no.”
“Ok, good,” she stated as she turned on her heel to walk back, “When you’re finished relieving yourself over there, come see me. The nurses over at Dog Company gave me a case of sodium solution that can help that.”
Kate walked past the group, “Enjoy your haul, you hooligans.” she said with a playful smile, winking at Hoosier as they made eye contact when she passed.
Leckie slumped back onto the ground across from Hoosier, “When are you giving her the morphine and shit?”
“Tonight.” Hoosier affirmed.
“No way! You found her some morphine? What about bandages? And scissors!? How!?” Chuckler asked genuinely befuddled when Hoosier nodded.
“Simple, I looked for it.” Hoosier responded smugly as he leaned back on his elbows.
The guys laughed as Chuckler grimaced, resentfully drinking more juice from his can.
~~~~~~~
That night as Hoosier was preparing the aid kits and morphine to bring to Kate and Blanche, fire clouds exploded in the distance and were steadily progressing closer towards them. Japanese aircraft’s were heading towards them dropping bombshells in their wake.
Whatever man wasn’t under the safety of cover dove into the nearest foxhole they could get to.
Enemy aircrafts soared over H and D Company posts, relentlessly deploying one bomb after the other as they passed. Multiple men shouting to take cover, and some crying out in fear, there was nothing they could do other than wait it out.
The following morning, every marine across the camp that wasn’t injured or stuck beneath the sand was either digging to find survivors that were buried alive or carrying the wounded to the medical personnel. The entire site was in shambles with Jeeps destroyed and burned to a crisp while fallen palm trees lay across where the men’s foxholes were, trapping marines' underneath.
The hustle and bustle of the aid station was never ending. Kate and Blanche along with a few Dog Company medics and a couple of nurses scampered from one man to another trying to keep them alive while able marines brought more wounded on stretchers.
“Put him on that table there!” Kate directed to the men who brought another marine with a wound to his right leg.
Kate rushed over, “What do we got?”
“Right thigh wound. He said shrapnel impaled him after one of the explosions went off right by him when he was running for cover.” one of the men explained quickly.
Kate tore through the pantleg to get to the wound. She knew right away by the saturation of the blood that the artery was severed.
“Blanche! Bring me gauze, sulfur and bandages! I need to pack this, NOW!” Kate yelled across the floor.
Blanche hurried over with what Kate needed, unraveling the long bandage and opening a bottle of sulfur to clot the wound. Kate balled up the end of the dressing, pushing it down deep into the gash packing it as tight as she could. The man shrieked and bawled, kicking and grabbing at Kate to escape the torture.
“Jesus, hold him down! I can’t do this if he’s moving around like that!” Kate bellowed.
The two men that brought him in pinned him down by his arms while Blanche secured his legs by his ankles. Kate layered the bandage hard into his wound, then when she couldn’t fit anymore, she placed a padded bandage over the top wrapping the ends snug around the thigh tying it down to maintain pressure. The bleeding had finally stopped.
Kate took a syrette and injected it into the meatier part of the marine’s shoulder.
“Take him over there where the rest of ‘em are.” Kate panted as she weakly motioned over to the treated casualties, recovering in the shade of a hanging tarp.
“You doing ok, Kate?” Blanche asked.
Kate nodded, “Did you see Sid?”
“No, thank goodness,” Blanche breathily replied, “What about Hoosier?”
Kate looked at her shocked, “Well, no. But I haven’t seen Leckie, Chuckler, Gibson, or Runner either.” she added.
Blanche raised an eyebrow at her best friend, “Honey, I know you fancy the man. You don’t have to hide it from me.”
“I don’t know what you’re-”
“Ssshhh...” Blanche shushed Kate placing her fore finger over Kate’s lips, “your secret is safe with me.”
Kate scoffed at her then rolled her eyes, “We got more work to do.”
She turned around and made herself busy with the next injured marine.
~~~~~~~
Kate sat alone behind the rickety medic shelter, taking a minute to let her brain rest by closing her eyes and humming a tune quietly to herself. The hum of her voice slowly became words as she sang the song softly outloud.
“There you are.” Hoosier’s voice came crashing through Kate’s tranquil thoughts.
Kate gasped as her heart and body jumped from surprise.
“Bill, you have GOT to stop sneaking up on me like that!” she told him clutching the front of her uniform.
Hoosier chuckled, “I am sorry, I really don’t mean to.”
Kate released a long exhale, “Glad to see you’re ok, though.” she admitted looking up at him through her eyelashes as he stood over her.
“You, too.” he returned.
Kate blushed, smiling weakly as she looked down at her lap. She looked behind him and noticed a dog sniffing around.
"Looks like you got yourself a new friend." she acknowledged.
Hoosier looked over his shoulder, "Yeah, after all the bombings last night this little fella slipped into our foxhole, so I grabbed him. Hasn't left my side since." he explained.
The dog looked up at him as if he knew Hoosier was talking about him.
"He's adorable." Kate cooed.
“I have something for you.” Hoosier declared.
“For me?”
“Yep. But you need to close your eyes.” he instructed.
Kate narrowed her eyes in suspicion, “Why?”
“Trust me.” he insisted grinning proudly.
Kate clicked her tongue at him but closed her eyes as he requested.
“Hold out your hand.”
She presented her hand palm up in front of her.
"Stay." she heard him command to the dog.
She felt his calloused palm gently slip under hers. His surprisingly tender touch sent electrical currents up her arm and through the rest of her body. She almost wasn’t able to contain her shudder.
Just then, she felt a hard slender object placed on her palm as he slowly removed his hand from under hers.
“Ok, you can look now.” Hoosier told her.
Kate opened her eyes, face to face with Hoosier kneeling right in front of her, his eyes as blue as the water behind him. She looked down at her hand to find a pair of scissors.
Kate’s eyes widened with excitement as she smiled at him.
“You got me scissors!” she squealed throwing her arms around his neck pulling him into a hug.
Hoosier chuckled as he loosely embraced Kate around her torso, “Yeah, I found a crate full of first aid kits and morphine and grabbed you a whole bunch of ‘em.”
Kate leaned back looking at him in disbelief, “You did?”
Hoosier nodded, “Leckie and Runner helped, too so we could get as much for you as we could. I brought them over and left them by the aid station for you. There are at least a dozen scissors over there so you’ll never run out of them again.”
Kate’s heart almost rocketed out of her chest.
“You didn’t get anything for yourself while you were out there?”
“Nah, I don’t need much.” he dismissed.
She beamed adoringly at him and pulled him back for another hug.
“You missed your chance to get something for yourself to get me what I needed? Thank you.” she whispered to him.
He squeezed her tighter, “Of course.” he purred back.
They pulled away slowly, still smiling at eachother. Kate patted Hoosier’s shoulder before standing up.
“I’m going to go take a look at those kits before anyone tries to get their mitts on them.” Kate proclaimed as she headed towards the casualty collection point.
Hoosier fixated on Kate as she walked away. He was lost in a daydream relishing the feeling of her pinned against him when they hugged. It was the closest feeling to home he’s felt since he got to Guadalcanal.
Kate stopped and turned to Hoosier, “You comin’?”
Hoosier snapped out of his trance and clumsily scurried over to join her for the walk back to the aid station.
~~~~~~~
As D and H Company fixed up the camp as best they could, they returned to foxholes to keep watch of the line. Col Puller (known as ‘Chesty’ to the marines) disclosed intelligence that the enemy was going to try to take Matanikau which was south of the airfield where the Americans currently had control. Most of the battalion was to join the 5th and 1st marines there to help defend the coast road into the airfield to maintain that control. This meant that Dog Company would be entirely alone on the front lines as they relocate to sector 3 of the island. H Company had their own orders.
Hoosier and Runner were tasked to set up a listening and observation post 30 yards inside the treeline. While they were gathering their weapons and gear, Kate walked up with two ammo cans in her hand. A look of concern appeared across her face when she saw a tired rough looking Hoosier with his dog and Runner packing up gear behind him.
“Where you two going?” she asked.
“We’re settin’ up a little less than a mile that way along the perimeter.” Runner replied pointing in the direction they were going to be heading.
“Oh?” Kate queried.
“Yeah, the Japs decided to go around us to hit the airfield. We got the first watch for two hours at sunset.” Hoosier explained.
Kate looked down at her boots inadvertently kicking at the sand, “I see.”
Hoosier stopped what he was doing to look her over and noticed what she had been holding.
“Whatchya got there, Ace?” he asked gesturing with his head at the small metal boxes.
Kate’s breath hitched in her throat as she looked up at Hoosier, “Oh-” she looked back down at the cans perplexed like they just appeared in her hands, “-it’s for you guys. I figured you’d need these more than me and Blanche.”
She walked closer to Runner and Hoosier handing them each a container. Runner opened the can and saw stacks of crackers neatly packed to the brim. Hoosier looked into Runner’s can, then beamed back at Kate.
“I heard you guys traded your saltines for the peaches and figured once you ran out of fruit you’d need more rations in the field. Good thing I caught you before you two took off.” she remarked.
“You’re giving us your food?” Runner asked utterly surprised while Hoosier gaped at her.
Kate’s eyebrows drew in together, “Of course. Someone’s gotta take care of you boys.”
Kate averted her eyes to Hoosier. She blushed seeing he had been gazing at her the whole time, his lazy smile and droopy blue eyes, ready to worship the ground she walked on.
“We’re so lucky to have you.” Hoosier muttered.
“Yeah, thanks, Ace!” Runner said as he ascended into the cubby hole shelter they all built to share the fresh crackers with the rest of the group.
“Anytime, Runner!” Kate called out.
Hoosier, still smiling, walked towards Kate, leaving very little room between them when he reached her. Kate hiccupped when he stood inches from her, looking up at him with her sparkling green eyes.
“You didn’t have to do that, you know?” he asserted.
Kate grinned, “I know. You guys would do the same for me and Blanche.”
Hoosier’s smile widened, “Absolutely.”
“I have one other thing,” Kate stated as she dug into her dungaree pocket, “-here.”
She held a sealed envelope with the name ‘Bill’ written in cursive on the front. He took it from her and as he looked it over, he realized he didn’t recognize the handwriting.
He looked back at her, “Who’s this from?”
Kate laughed, “Me, silly!”
A smile returned to his face, “But why?”
“Well, I heard you saying something about Leckie having a girl back home to send letters to and that you didn’t. So, I wrote you one.” Kate explained.
Hoosier’s heart melted, practically becoming a puddle at his feet. He looked back at the letter smiling so hard his cheeks started to ache.
“Well, thank you Kate Danaher. That’s about the nicest thing that any broad has ever done for me.” he admitted.
“Glad to hear it. Oh, and you should wait to read it when you’re feeling crummy during one of your watches. It’ll cheer you up.” she insisted.
“What if I want to read it now?” Hoosier asked with a mischievous smile.
Kate laughed, “Defeats the purpose of me writing it for you! It’ll be worth the wait, cross my heart!” she promised as she drew a crisscross over her chest with her fingers. "-And when you do read it, you'll have to write me back. Those are the rules."
Hoosier was absolutely mesmerized by her childlike innocence.
“Ok, I’ll save it.” he pledged placing the letter in the breast pocket of his uniform.
Kate standing on her tiptoes snaked her arms over his shoulders pulling him into a hug as his arms instinctively embraced her pulling her flush against him.
“Please be careful. Both of you.” Kate whispered.
Hoosier’s heart pounding against his ribcage had his chest heaving as his strong hands kneaded Kate’s upper back. He nodded, agreeing to her request.
“Promise?” Kate implored.
“I swear it.” Hoosier reassured; his voice low and calm like a song to Kate’s ears.
~~~~~~~
#the pacific#hbowar#hbo war#bill hoosier smith#hoosier#hoosier smith#jacob pitts#ww2#us marines#h company#medic#band of brothers#cameo#scissors
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The Art of Crossed Wires - 2 - The Plan
Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female Reader
Rating: Teen.
Warnings: Swearing
Chapter: 2/9
Word count: 1177
Summary: After slapping your boss, Agent Pike, you're pretty sure you're going to jail. Unless you can come up with a good plan.
Note: This has not been beta read, so apologies for any mistakes. Also, enjoy another Pedro boy's cameo in this chapter.
Part One | Series Masterpost
The next day the office was blissfully peaceful. Mary sat typing while listening to an audiobook. A box of your favourite cupcakes sat on your desk as you arrived with a note.
‘I’m so sorry. I took a joke too far yesterday. Mary x’
You gave her a half-hearted smile as you took your seat. You were too distracted to properly make up with her yet. Her prank had pushed you to the breaking point yesterday. Already on edge from Mary’s pranks, you had ended up slapping the completely innocent Marcus Pike.
You tried to focus on your work all morning, but whenever your supervisor, Bob, crossed the office floor, you could feel the panic rising. It would only be a matter of time until you would be called into his or Agent Pike’s office. Best case scenario was you would be fired. Worse case? You’d assaulted a federal agent. That was a Class A misdemeanour, and you faced up to a year in jail along with a $100,000 fine. You did not have that much money. You definitely did not want to go to jail. To say you were screwed was an understatement.
But the morning passed, and no reprimand came. Finally, lunch rolled around, and desperate to get out of the office, you decided you were going to walk over to the Smithsonian. As you made your way out of the building, you saw him. Marcus Pike was standing next to the elevators talking to another agent, his arms wrapped tightly around a stack of files. There was no way you’d be able to sneak past them, and you were considering taking the stairs when he looked over, and your eyes met.
You watched as he visibly gulped before nodding to his colleague as they left. You stood, frozen in place, just staring at him. Neither of you moved for a few seconds before he finally started to dart away, tripping over his feet and spilling the files across the floor.
You rushed forward to help, determined to seize your chance to make some kind of amends. Falling to your knees, you began to scoop up files as Marcus scrambled to grab others. Then suddenly, you felt a crack and a flash of pain as your head collided with Marcus’.
“Shit!” His hand flew up to his head, dropping the files he was holding. You did the same, rubbing your forehead and looking up.
Marcus leant back onto his knees, frowning and rubbing his temple, giving you your second close-up look at the handsome agent. While he had been completely clean-shaven yesterday, he was now sporting a short stubble across his jaw. Your heart dropped as you realised it was probably because it was painful to shave as you noticed the small purple speckling of a bruise on his cheek.
“I’m so sorry.” You blurted out, causing his head to snap up to look at you. “I’m really, really sorry. Oh my… please, I’m just-”
Marcus just shook his head. “I’m fine. My fault.” He began to gather up the files again.
“But your face.” You instinctively reached out but dropped your hand as he flinched.
“It’s fine.” Marcus scrambled to his feet, clutching the files to his chest. “I’m…” He trailed off awkwardly before all but running away towards his office.
Watching him leave, it suddenly dawned on you that he was frightened. He was frightened of you.
~~~~~
The rest of the day passed as quietly as it had begun, and you could relax a little more now that you knew you wouldn’t be hauled off to jail. But a new problem was niggling at your insides. Marcus Pike hadn’t reported you because he was afraid. Of you.
He had good reason, to be fair. From his point of view, one of the admin assistants he’d never spoken to slapped him out of the blue. That was pretty weird and scary for anyone. But you hated the idea of him being afraid of you. You weren’t a bad person, and you needed to sit down and talk with him long enough to properly explain what had happened.
By the time you got home that evening, you had part of a plan formed. You needed to show him you weren’t scary or crazy or whatever else he was thinking about you. So a nice friendly gesture was needed, and you had thought of the perfect one.
If you took a slight detour tomorrow morning, you’d be able to swing by a small bookstore you’d visited a few months back. It was out of the way but was sure to have some art history books or even artist biographies. You knew from the way Marcus spoke in briefings how passionate he was about art, and it wouldn’t surprise you to find out he painted himself.
After finding him a nice sorry present, he’d be more likely to listen to you. Right? Or at least be less afraid around you. Plan in place, you spent your evening finishing a short story you had been writing for the past few weeks before heading to bed.
~~~~~
The bookstore was well off the beaten path, and you were amazed that anyone was able to find it. You had stumbled on it months ago entirely by accident when you were lost. Since then, you’d been back a handful of times, always surprised to find it busy with a smattering of customers.
Stepping inside, the man behind the counter greeted you with a warm smile. His deep chestnut eyes peeked over a set of gold-rimmed spectacles.
“Back again to my humble establishment?” He greeted you with his rich Southern accent as he set down the book he was reading and lifted the glasses to place them on his head. His curly brown hair swallowed the frames as they rested next to a strange patch of blond at the front. “Are you here for anything in particular? Some fiction to whisk you away to strange lands? Or perhaps something more academic?”
“Do you have any art history books?” You walked over to the counter, placing your bag on it and smiled.
“Ah, you have an interest in aesthetics and culture.” The owner’s eyes lit up, and he stepped around the counter, gesturing for you to follow him.
“It’s for a… friend.” You clarified. “It’s a gift to, um, say sorry.”
“I see.” The owner nodded, finally leading you to a section near the back. “An apologetic gesture to mend bridges.”
“Yes.” You looked at the small section, then turned to smile at him once more. “Thank you so much.”
“You are most welcome.” He bowed slightly before leaving you to peruse the selection before you.
You knew you didn’t have long to look as you still needed to leave enough time to get to work. However, it didn’t take you long to spot exactly what you were looking for. Bringing your choice over to the counter, you crossed your fingers that Agent Pike would find this book just as interesting as you.
Taglist: @jxvipike, @miraclesabound, @littlemisspascal, @galaxyofmando, @pintsizemama, @athalien, @zanzann, @furiousmushroom, @ghostofaboy, @thebestrouge
#marcus pike#marcus pike x reader#marcus pike x f!reader#the mentalist#fanfiction#fanfic#my writing#the art of crossed wires
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A Look At Stuff You Probably Never Heard Of: Eternal Sonata (Manga)
I was going to take a look at something else, what with it being New Year’s, but I ran into some trouble. But in its place, I’ll be taking a look at a manga adaptation of my favorite game, which I also took A Look At on January when I first started this series. Today, we’ll be taking a look at the Eternal Sonata manga!
The manga adaptation of Eternal Sonata was released somewhere between September and December of 2008, with only one volume and ten chapters within that volume. Both the art and story were done by Kuroi Mimei, who also did the art for “The iDOLM@STER: Cinderella Girls Comic Anthology - cute“.
As stated earlier, this manga adapts the game. Much like the game, the plot is set in the dream world of famed Polish pianist Frédéric François Chopin as he lays on his deathbed. In his dream, he meets Polka, a young girl from Tenuto Village with an incurable illness that allows her to use magic. She’s unable to sell a medicine known as Floral Powder because Mineral Powder is so beneficial and the only thing not being taxed. The two travel to Forte City to speak with Count Waltz, hoping to come to an agreement so Polka can make her living.
At the same time, two street urchins from Ritardando named Allegretto and Beat have to steal food to feed themselves and the kids living in the sewers. Frustrated with the high taxes on everything except Mineral Powder, the two friends travel to Forte City to speak with Count Waltz. Along the way, the two pairs meet and decide to travel together.
Due to the game’s plot being compressed into 10 chapters, much of said plot has been trimmed down and as a result, the other playable characters are relegated to brief, one-off appearances and don’t normally accompany the main four for long, if at all.
As for the art, a lot of work has gone into the details. Everything from the characters’ hair, to injuries, to even the backgrounds. But at the same time, character faces can look a little... off. As noted by the cover.
Another year, another Final Recommendation
Never Let Go Of It||Get It||Hold Onto It||Try It||Consider It||Stay Away From It
As stated earlier, the manga heavily compresses the events of the game and the other playable characters are relegated to glorified cameos. Heck, Claves, Viola, and Falsetto are completely absent with no mention of them. March and Salsa show up briefly, and Jazz accompanies the group for a short while.
And when I said “heavily compressed”, I mean “HEAVILY compressed”! Chapter 3 has Beat and Allegretto meet Polka’s mom in Tenuto, then it cuts to the four in Agogo Forest, where they set up camp for the night, only for Fugue to find them and threaten them while Frederic is elsewhere. The very next chapter has Polka waking up in Salsa and March’s house, with the fight happening between chapters; the group was heavily beaten and nearly killed until Frederic shows up and singlehandedly beats Fugue. And while leaving Agogo Forest, they meet Jazz (who is just a traveler, rather than a member of Andantino, which isn’t even mentioned), who takes them all the way to Baroque Castle, which, according to this map, is VERY far from Agogo Forest.
In fact, the whole plot about Count Waltz exploiting Mt. Rock and turning his citizens into mindless, magic-using soldiers is completely absent. I don’t even think the negative side effects of Mineral Powder are even mentioned. And by Chapter 9, the group arrives at Castle Forte, where they meet Count Walt, where he consumes a drink containing a Glowing Agogo and transforms into a monster that doesn’t even look like the Ruined Body. Polka uses her magic to return Waltz to his human form, but Allegretto is fatally wounded by a pole while protecting Polka. Somehow, the two use magic to help Polka recover, but she’s unable to use her magic to save him because her mysterious illness is gone. Wanting to save Allegretto and still convinced the world he’s in is a dream, Frederic uses his magic to revive and heal Allegretto before mysteriously vanishing, leaving only his hat. And no, I didn’t skip over anything.
And the manga does also differ from the game as how the plot unfolds (obviously). Like in the game, you only find March in Agogo Village and she asks you to look for her sister at Forte City because she forgot her iconic hat (Salsa isn’t wearing a hat in the manga) and hasn’t returned for a few days. Salsa was thrown in prison and you break out with her. In the manga, Salsa is present in Agogo Village and doesn’t leave for Forte City.
There’s also this minor subplot about Allegretto feeling weak in comparison to Frederic and Jazz.
If you wanna check it out, go ahead. It’s not awful, just very bizarre. But if you want the best experience, just get the game. PS3 version.
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The Blazing Silver Light of Paldea
Chapter 15: Sol
Silver and Blaze find a Larvesta in some underground ruins and save her life.
Deltarune cameo :)
tw: swearing, misgendering (blaze this time), near death
~~~~~
Silver and Blaze woke up and got ready for the day. Before Silver went to the bathroom to get dressed, Blaze stopped him.
"Give me your binder."
"What? No!" Silver shouted.
"I know dysphoria sucks, but I'm worried about you." The cat sighed. "Your lungs need a break."
"No, they don't. I'm fine!" The hedgehog argued. He coughed a few times and grumbled.
"You just proved that they do." Blaze said.
"I, um, had something... in my throat." Silver lied. They started to sweat and their quills tensed.
"You're a terrible liar." Blaze chuckled.
"Dammit..."
The teens and their Pokémon went to the ground floor to get their Kalos-style breakfast. Kalos was located northeast of Paldea, so the breakfast was more authentic than it would've been in Unova or Kanto.
The teens sat down next to Kris and two of their friends from school: a pink dinosaur girl and a tan reindeer girl.
"Hey, Kris. Who are your friends?" Silver asked.
The dinosaur girl smiled and showed her sharp teeth. "I'm Susie."
The reindeer girl smiled and blushed. "I'm Noelle."
"Nice to meet you two." Blaze said as she held her hand out. Susie got a bit too excited and squeezed Blaze's hand a little too hard. "Ow."
"Haha, whoops. If Ralsei were here he could heal you up." Susie chuckled.
"I'm fine." Blaze wiggled her fingers to show that she was fine, but they started aching.
Noelle got some medical equipment and wrapped Blaze's hand. She drew a snowflake and smiled, then used cryokinesis to ice their hand. Blaze flinched, and Noelle frantically apologized.
"I-I-I'm sorry! I didn't know you were sensitive to cold!"
"Not usually. Only when I'm sick or injured." Blaze chuckled and ignited her injured hand with her good hand to ease the pain, and Silver got a bit nervous. "Sorry, Silv."
The five teens had a lively conversation while eating, took their meds, got checked out of the hotel, then went their separate ways. The Psychic/Fire duo made their way to a wall with open elevators.
"Looks like the only way up to the Gym is those lifts, or my psychokinesis." Silver said.
"What if th-they break... o-or you drop us?" Blaze shuddered. They looked absolutely terrified.
"Sunlight, Justice, and Charlie can help keep us safe." The hedgehog smiled.
The teens got on the lift. After a few seconds, they reached the second level of Cascarrafa.
"I'm feeling a bit nauseous..." Blaze groaned.
"Let's sit down then." Silver said with a smile. He floated to a bench and Blaze stumbled a bit. They sat until Blaze felt better, but there was another lift they had to go up.
"God dammit..." She muttered.
The teens went to the highest level of Cascarrafa, and Blaze's nausea came back.
"Urgh... I feel awful... I hate heights..." Blaze moaned. The teens sat on a bench until Blaze's stomach settled.
"Feel better?" Silver asked.
"Yeah."
The teens made their way to the Gym, and a fat, light blue, older sea turtle man ran past them in a hurry.
"Vaultin' Veluza, I'm late!" He shouted.
"Wait! You forgot your wallet!" A woman yelled. She saw the teens and smiled. "Young boys–"
Blaze cringed, but Silver beamed in delight. Wearing a baggy hoodie and cargo shorts paid off! His eyes started watering.
"Um... young hedgehog... are you okay?" The woman asked Silver.
"Oh! Um, yeah. Just really happy." They sniffled and wiped the tears away.
The woman smiled. "You boys are Gym Challengers, right?" Blaze cringed again.
"She's not, but I am." Silver explained.
The woman turned to Blaze. "Oh, sorry, miss."
"No problem. Usually it's the other way around: they think we're both girls." Blaze chuckled.
"Anyway, Gym Leader Kofu forgot his wallet. He's down at Porto Marinada, on the other side of the desert. Here, hold onto it." The woman gave Silver a wallet with a Venonat pattern.
The teens made their way to the desert and the wind picked up some sand and obscured their vision.
"Ack! Blaze, I can't see!" Silver choked. The sandstorm tore into him and made it hard to breathe.
The teens stumbled upon some ruins and Silver accidentally leaned against a loose brick, which activated a trap. Blaze fell into a 30 foot deep pit, and Silver wasn't able to save her before the pit closed. Luckily, there was a deep pool of water she landed in.
"Blaze!!!" The hedgehog cried out.
Blaze frantically swam to the surface, climbed out, gasped for air, and coughed out the water they had inhaled. They used their pyrokinesis to evaporate the water and recover faster, then to light the room. The cat found old torches, lit them up, and looked at the structure.
"Whoa..."
The room was a dome with carvings of Volcarona portrayed as the deity of the sun. A golden Volcarona brought light in the winter and grew crops in the darkness.
Blaze called Silver, but he didn't answer. "Crap, no service."
Meanwhile, Silver tried to find a way down the pit. He triggered the brick and tried to hold it open with his psychokinesis, but the sandstorm overpowered his mind. He wheezed and panted as the trap closed itself.
He tried to have his Psychic-Types help, but the sandstorm was a bit much for them too. Silver tried pressing other traps and got his hand stuck in a Gimmighoul chest, so Pepper used a Bite to save him.
Silver eventually activated a working entrance after nearly an hour, then made his way through the dusty temple in search of Blaze.
"Blaze?? Cough! Cough! ...Hello?"
The Pyrokinetic heard someone call her name. She followed the sound and shouted out for them.
Silver heard Blaze's shouts and followed them, and eventually made his way to Blaze.
"I found an entrance!" Silver told the cat.
"Where?"
Silver smiled nervously. "Forgot."
Blaze sighed, so the teens continued searching for the exit. They stopped when they saw a golden Larvesta being threatened by a group of Naclstack.
"Leave her alone!" Blaze shouted, getting the salt beasts' attention.
Silver had Catnip use Razor Leaf to scare them off, and Blaze finished the job with an Earthquake from Cedar.
Silver gently picked up the Larvesta and smiled. "We'll protect y–"
A tile fell next to Silver and the Larvesta got scared and created a spark that hit one of the wooden supports. Smoke, fire, and dust started to fill the room and it got much harder to breathe.
"Crap, we need to find a way out!" Blaze stated. They noticed that Silver was having difficulty breathing and suggested having Justice or Charlie hold him so they could run.
Silver nodded, and had Justice, who was faster, carry them. The teens and Justice ran for a few minutes trying to get out, but came across a dead end. The tunnel was collapsing, and the teens and their Pokémon were losing oxygen.
"Huff... Puff... We're trapped!" Blaze exclaimed.
"Sun– Wheeze! ...light!! Cough! Hack!! ...Dig us out!" Silver immediately had a violent coughing fit after shouting out the order, then breathing became basically impossible for him. He got out and used an emergency inhaler from his pocket so he could breathe, and tried to stay calm.
The Larvesta in Silver's arms squirmed around, so Blaze took her from him. She then had Coal help Sunlight with a Dig of his own. Charlie, Justice, and Catnip used Helping Hand for faster digging, and in under a minute, they dug out and into fresh air.
Silver gasped as hard as his lungs would let him, then literally coughed and wheezed for a few minutes with little gasps of air in between. He missed fresh air so much. He took a swig of water and his throat started to feel better, but breathing was still so much of a hassle. He used his inhaler, but even so, nearly suffocating had taken a toll on him.
Blaze and the Pokémon didn't take nearly as long as Silver to catch their breath.
While Silver was painfully catching his breath, Blaze had caught the Larvesta and named her.
"Silver, look!" Blaze smiled. "Meet Sol the Larvesta!"
The hedgehog wheezed and held a hand to his chest. "Not... now..."
Blaze chuckled nervously. "R-right."
After a few painful minutes, Silver had caught their breath. "What– Cough! Cough!"
"Don't speak, bud. You need to recover." Blaze told him.
Silver took another swig and let out the quietest relieved sigh. Water was a gift from Arceus herself on his parched throat.
Blaze noticed the city in front of them. "That must be Porto Marinada! We need to return the Gym Leader's wallet!"
"Give me a minute..." Silver coughed out, exhausted and panting hard.
After Silver took a minute to catch their breath, they and Blaze rode Miraidon to the auction center to complete their mission.
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Merry Go Round of Life 14
Find my masterlist
Chapter 14! Whooo! Okay. So. There’s another cameo here, although at the moment I’m the only one who knows. You can look for clues and you can guess if you want, but I really don’t give you much here. Yet. You’ll find out more next chapter.
This chapter... rather got away from me. I didn’t get to where I intended to get in this chapter, but I like how it turned out anyway. It’s a fun chapter. Or I had fun writing it, at least.
Word count: 2k
This one will be Din Djarin x f!reader eventually. Don’t hold your breath folks, this one’s a slow burn. Sort of.
Warnings: The Child getting into mischief. Again. As usual. Also, SO MANY STAIRS.
True to his word, Djarin waited until you'd had your tea the next morning to bring up the subject of his favor.
"I need you to speak to someone for me," Djarin said, speaking slowly, as if he were testing the words as he was saying them.
"Oh?" You blinked at him, surprised. Djarin struck you as a man who took care of his own things.
Djarin shifted his weight, tucking his thumbs into his belt. "I need you to speak to the king."
"The king?" You gasped, eyes wide.
Djarin sighed and sounded like he regretted every life choice that had led him here. "I would speak to him myself, but he would command me to do something I cannot yet do." He shrugged a little. "You are going to stall for me."
"I am?" You sounded more surprised than upset, voice crackling a little.
"Please." The word had clearly been hard for Djarin to get out, low and weighty.
You took a deep breath. Well, you had wanted a bit of adventure, after all. And adventures often had unexpected twists to them. "What do I need to do?"
His shoulders relaxed a little. "Just tell him you're there to relay orders to me. He won't like it but he'll do it." He shrugged. "He might even distract himself."
You blinked at him. He was speaking very casually of the king...but you weren't going to question it. Instead you nodded. "Okay," you agreed. "Should I… clean up? Find something else to wear?"
Djarin paused, and the helmet shifted to give you a once over. You had the feeling he hadn't even considered that. Then he shook his head. "You're fine," he said, a little curt. "Take the kid with you. The Mandalore door is not far from the palace - I'll show you which way to go. Just tell people you're there on behalf of Wizard Djarin, that will get you to the king."
You blinked but nodded slowly.
It took surprisingly little time to get ready. The child got a quick wash, you brushed your dress off the best you could, and the group of you were out the door. Djarin walked you down a few streets until you reached a large open square. There was a fountain in the middle of the square, three tiered and splashing occasionally out onto the stone square.
To one side of the square you could see an entrance to the markets you and Djarin had just barely visited. To the other side was another row of buildings - businesses mostly, it looked like, although when you looked up you could see open windows with laundry hanging out, and music floated down from one window.
Directly across from you was the palace. It was large, of course, with a set of stairs leading up to a huge set of double doors. The doors were metal, shiny, but darker than Djarin's armor. What you could see of the palace seemed to be sturdy stone and metal construction.
"There it is," Djarin told you. "Just go up to the main door and talk to the guards there. You'll be fine."
"But--"
Djarin was already turning and striding away from you.
You looked down at the child and sighed. "He's in too much of a hurry," you grumbled at the child. "Well. I suppose there's no reason to dilly dally. May as well be on our way."
The child cooed and you set off across the square. There were other people around. Most of them seemed to be on errands, walking quickly from one place to the next. Almost all of them were richly dressed, in fabrics that you wanted to run your fingers over and play with. Which also made you feel rather small, honestly.
The child clearly didn't care, too busy looking around with big eyes. You envied him his ease.
By the time you got to the stairs, your knees were starting to creak. You looked up the stairs, feeling your heart sink. That was a lot of stairs. You may well be at this all day.
"Well, kid, you may be better off taking these on your own," you murmured. "I'm afraid I may not be much help."
The child cooed and patted your cheek, smiling hugely at you. You couldn't help but smile.
"Well, here we go," you muttered, and started to climb.
It didn't take long for your knees to start to ache. Your back was next. You were panting by the time you were half way up the stairs, and you had to pause on the mid-way landing to take a breather.
"Getting old… is not fun," you panted at the child, setting him down to brace your hands on your knees. You took a few moments to catch your breath before you looked at the remainder of the stairs. You still had half of them to go.
You were going to murder Djarin when you were done here.
"Okay kid," you said, straightening slowly. "Let's get going again."
But the kid didn't come toddling back to you. You looked around, starting to panic, until you spotted the kid. He had managed to get up half a dozen stairs to the first guards, and was standing in front of one with a determined little pout.
The guard looked down at the kid. His armor was different, white and not as shiny. It seemed a bit… flatter? Less bulky? There was definitely something about it that was unlike Djarin's armor. You didn't think it was beskar.
The kid babbled up at the guard, pointing back at you. The guard didn't move, and the kid stamped his foot and babbled louder, pointing back at you more emphatically.
The guard looked down at you. There was complete silence for a few moments. Just as you thought the kid was going to burst and start yelling, the guard spoke.
"Do you need help, ma'am?"
"I… could do, if you don't mind," you admitted. You didn't like admitting it. But you were a 90-year-old woman. That really ought to come with some perks.
The guard stepped lightly down the stairs to you, holding out one arm to you. You took his arm, and the two of you started up the steps. The kid kept ahead of you, climbing determinedly up.
"Thank you, young man," you murmured to him. "I appreciate your kindness."
The guard turned his head a bit, and his voice was warmer when he spoke next. "It's no trouble, ma'am. You let one of us know when your business is concluded, and we'll help you back down, too."
You smiled and patted the arm you still clutched with your other hand. The armor felt weird under your hands - definitely not beskar. "I will do that. I imagine it must be boring, standing here all day."
There was a low chuckle from under the helmet. "Yes, ma'am," he agreed. "My commander likes to say this builds character."
You laughed. "My mother used to say the same," you admitted. "I think I must have become quite a character by now."
He chuckled again. "At your age, you've had quite a lot of time to build character."
You laughed again, holding onto his arm tighter as you stumbled on a step. His other hand helped to steady you, and you shook your head. "You’d be surprised.”
He helped you up the last couple steps, and then hesitated. He clearly didn’t want to go back to his post, and you were clearly the perfect excuse not to. “Can I… help direct you somewhere?” he asked, a little hopefully.
You patted his arm again. What a dear, poor, bored man. “I’m here to see the king, actually,” you told him as the child cooed and waved his arms at you. “I’m here on behalf of Wizard Djarin.”
“Wizard business?” The guard next to you straightened, looking down at you.
“Suppose so.” You shrugged. Honestly, you didn’t know.
He nodded after a moment. “I’ll show you the way inside,” he offered.
“Thank you.” You scooped to pick up the child, grimacing. Your back still hurt, but you didn’t trust the kid not to wander off. And you certainly weren’t fast enough to really keep up with him, if he did take off.
The guard led you up to the double doors, which were even more impressive up close. You could see carving in the doors at about eye-level for the average man, but they were not in any language you knew. You looked up at them for a moment, looking at the blocky shape of them, before you lifted your gaze to the rest of the door. Which was easily twice as tall as the guard next to you, possibly even taller.
You hadn’t meant to say anything. You really hadn’t. But you heard yourself blurt, “Goodness, these doors are impressive, but why in the world are they so tall? Does the king regularly entertain giants as guests?”
The guard next to you turned slowly to look at you, and you felt blood rushing to your cheeks. You could see the guards posted on either side of the door look at each other, and then their shoulders started shaking.
“You know,” the guard next to you said, casual as anything, “I’ve been posted here for months. And I have never heard a single person ask about the doors. Myself included.”
You shook your head, still a little embarrassed. “Well, I’m not from anywhere near so grand as this,” you attempted to dismiss.
“Neither are we.” He shrugged. “But you… You see things in a different way, ma’am.” He chuckled suddenly. “No wonder you’re here on wizard business.” He stepped forward and pulled on the handle to one door, pulling it open slowly. “This way, ma’am.”
You followed him inside. The inside of the palace looked about like the outside: a grand stone corridor led you further in. It wasn’t until you were past the outermost level of the palace that you saw a change. Which happened quite abruptly when the corridor the guard was leading you down opened onto a courtyard. There was a smaller fountain in the center of the courtyard, and flowering bushes around the perimeter. Two walkways went through the courtyard, meeting in a circle around the fountain before continuing on to the other corridors.
The guard took you straight through the courtyard and further into the palace. The floors were still stone, but the walls had changed over to wood, more intricately done. It was certainly more pleasing to look at than the stone.
“Nearly there,” the guard told you.
“How big is this place?” you asked, looking around. You’d passed several branching hallways, peeked in a few doors, and peered out any available windows. You still had no idea how big the palace was.
The guard chuckled. “It’s pretty extensive,” he admitted. “It doesn’t look so large from the front, where you entered, but it extends quite a ways back. There are also the outer courtyards and gates, for defensive measures.”
“Defense against what?” you asked, more rhetorical than anything.
The guard paused in front of another metal double door, looking back against you. The tilt of his helmet seemed almost surprised, to you. “The jetii, of course.” He pushed open the doors without waiting for any response from you, stepping into the room beyond.
The child patted your face gently, peering up at you with big eyes. He almost seemed to be comforting you, or encouraging you.
So you took a deep breath and followed the guard.
It was immediately apparent that this was the throne room. The room was large, mostly made of stone, with high set windows allowing sunlight in. The throne was up on a raised dais of stone. The throne itself was made of stone, the seat wider than you would have thought typical, with broad arms. There was more carving on the back of the throne, more things you didn’t recognize.
“Wait here, please,” the guard told you. “The king will be with you shortly.”
You nodded, and the guard stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind him with a gentle thump.
--
Taglist: @saradika @zinzinina @miraclesabound @ohheyitsokay @quica-quica-quica @queridopascal @fandom-blackhole @pedrocentric @shoopidly @beskarprincessjenny @sarahjkl82-blog @cannedsoupsucks @liviiii98 @adriiibell @seasonschange-butpeopledont @princessxkenobi @thirddeadlysin @pbeatriz @oonajaeadira @kiizhikehn-cedar @withakindheartx @linkpk88 @evyiione @janebby @anditsmywholeheart @amneris21 @recklessworry @the-feckless-wonder @kotemorons @pedrostories @grogusmum @eri16 @idreamofboobear @pintsizemama @stevie75 @luxmundee @kirsteng42 @@reader-without-a-story @5pectre @alexxavicry @elegantduckturtle @litakino @pjkimrn @jaime1110 @trash-dino-5000 @mandalwhorean @dessinemoiunehistoire @mswarriorbabe80 @lowlights @magikfanatic @bruxasolta @hb8301 @chaoticgeminate @eri
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4 times his friends posted you on their instagram + 1 time he did - mat barzal
a/n: I wrote this literally back in july so lets just ignore how idealistic this is regarding quarantine but im a slut for some barzy this is all fluff
word count: 4,733
summary: like the title says, some friends (with benefits?) to lovers + a tyson cameo, fluffy summer quarantine fic
tagging @davidpastrsnack so kate can get on the barzy train
-
1.
To say the whole quarantine thing was an inconvenience was an understatement. School had ended online, your summer internship was cancelled, and it seemed like your summer would turn into an uneventful couple of months stuck in your apartment in, probably, the worst place to be stuck in during a pandemic: New York City.
Or so you thought.
You’d planned on having the most boring summer ever until your friend, Mat, had invited you to hole up away with him and a few friends in a lake house back in Vancouver. Well, friend was a loose term. The two of you were friends… just ones that kissed occasionally… and sometimes more than kissed. You’d met him about a year ago at a bar while he was out with his teammates after a game. A cliche meeting, but you hit it off instantly. Instead of ending up in his bed at the end of the night (which you would eventually end up at after a couple months), it turned into an exchange of numbers and an invitation to hang out later in the week.
You hadn’t thought anything of it at first, just thinking he was being friendly and wanting to end the conversation, so you were surprised to get a text the next day from an unknown number asking if you’d wanted to go on a bike ride.
Flashforward a year later and the two of you still went on bike rides together. At least, up until the pandemic started.
When the text came telling you to pack your bags for a month or so, you thought he was joking. Surely he couldn’t have meant you to join him in Vancouver over the summer? You were proven wrong when he showed up at your apartment the next day, two coffees in his hand.
“Uh, hi, Mathew,” you said hesitantly, opening your door to reveal your disheveled state, having just woken up.
“Why are you dressed like that? We have a plane to catch in four hours,” he said, pushing himself through your door, uninvited, to set the coffees on the counter.
“What are you doing here? What plane? You’re not supposed to be going out,” you reprimanded him for showing up unannounced and in the middle of quarantine.
“I told you we’re going to Vancouver, I know you read my text. Now let’s hurry up and pack, we gotta get going,” Mat rushed, already on the way to your bedroom.
You followed him after a brief moment once you’d processed what was going on. Mat had already pulled out your suitcase and set it on top of your bed by the time you entered the door. He was in the middle of rifling through your drawers and grabbing random garments to throw into the suitcase when you’d spoken again.
“You’re actually serious about this?”
“Of course I am. What better things do you have to do in a city on lockdown for an entire summer? Honestly, I’m doing you a favor,” he explained easily, turning back to grab more items.
“Oh, you’re doing me a favor? Thank you, Mat, for saving me from a summer of suffering. It’s not like I had other plans to find different internships or focus on my summer classes,” you replied sarcastically.
Mat rolled his eyes. “I am doing you a favor, and you’re doing me a favor by going. I need a hot piece of ass to get me through this, or I will lose my mind.” You slugged him on the shoulder in offense, but all he did was chuckle.
“And anyways, you can still do your classes in Vancouver. Instead of doing them locked in this apartment, you can do them lounged out under the Canadian sun. Preferably in a bikini,” he finished. You slugged his arm again, harder this time.
“In fact, you should take the red bikini, it makes your tits look amazing,” he said, noticing you shuffling through your swimsuits. You rolled your eyes at him but grabbed the red one anyway along with a couple others.
With both of you folding and packing, your bags were ready to go in record time.
“Alright, baby, let’s go.” And so you were off.
A week had gone by in total bliss. As much as you hated to admit it, Mat was right. Vacationing in Vancouver in a secluded lake house was a lot better than being alone in your apartment, even if you did still have classes to do. Mat teased you about it, but he always left you alone for a few hours in the day for you to focus on your work. Unless he really wanted something… like right now.
Mat had joined you laying on the couch while you were in the middle of annotating a book for class. He wiggled his way between your arms, causing you to break your hold on your book. He rested his head on your chest, arms wrapped around your middle, and nuzzled his face into your neck. Joining your hands back to your book and bringing your highlighter to the page, you continued to underline phrases you’d come back to later. A couple minutes passed in silence before Mat started sighing. And then he sighed again.
“What do you want?” you huffed out, closing your book with the pen marking your page.
“Let’s go swimming,” he said, pushing up to his elbows to look at your face.
“I have to finish, like, three more chapters today,” you explained.
“You can do that later. I want to go swimming now,” Mat whined.
“You know you sound like a petulant child right now, right?” you asked, moving a hand to his head, pushing his hair back as he pouted.
“Stop using big words on me. Let’s swim,” he said, rolling his eyes.
You paused to think about it for a moment, “Hmm… okay, I guess,” you said with a smile. Mat returned your smile with one of his own before hopping up to drag you to your room to change. It didn’t take much to convince you to swim. It was a really nice day out, and you didn’t really care to finish reading about 17th century philosophy.
You changed into your red bikini, Mat swapped his shorts for a pair of swim trunks, and threw on a backwards baseball cap. You went out back to join the rest of his friend group, who were in the process of loading up the boat with supplies and equipment.
“Oh, look, if it isn’t Brainiac and the Beast. Are you two finally going to go boating with us?” Tyson shouted from the dock. You rolled your eyes at his nickname they created for you and Mat. It had only been a week in Vancouver, but the chirps about you and school were tired by now.
“Princess here wants to swim in the pool, maybe next time!” you shouted back, pointing to Mat.
They laughed at your response, turning their attention back to the boat and running supplies to and from the house. You turned your attention back to Mat, who was taking off his hat and was about two seconds away from jumping in the pool.
“Mathew, stop!” you yelled out, “Get your ass over here!”
“What is it?” he asked, stopping just short of the deep end. He grumbled before marching over to you.
“You need to put sunscreen on first, dumbass,” you reprimanded. As you turned your back to grab the bottle of sunscreen, he rolled his eyes.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me, Mat,” you said sharply, turning back to face him with a raised eyebrow.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.”
You ignored him, opening the cap and squeezing lotion onto your hands. You gestured him to turn around, and you spread the lotion over it, making sure to rub it into his shoulders.
“I don’t see why I have to put sunscreen on. It’s not even that hot outside,” he muttered.
“First of all, you’re a dumbass. Second of all, heat doesn’t automatically mean the UV rays aren’t strong. And lastly, you’re white, baby, you’ll burn like a sun-dried tomato and being in water only increases the amount of sun you’re exposed to,” you explained, reaching up to rub some on his face.
“Sorry, Miss Meteorologist,” he grumbled, clearly not happy he’d lost this argument.
“One of us has to have brains. We can’t all get by on our good looks and skating ability,” you replied, slapping his cheeks when you were done for good measure.
“Okay, well, if you’re finally done,” you nodded in confirmation, “Let’s go.” He picked you up from under your thighs and ran at full speed towards the pool before you could even process what was happening. You screamed his name in protest begging him to put you down, claiming you hadn’t had time to put on sunscreen yet. He ignored you as he jumped into the deep end, dragging you with him.
You emerged from the water clinging to Mat’s wet body, your hair sopping and hanging over your face like you had come straight out of the movie The Grudge. Mat was laughing at your chaotic look, knowing you were well pissed at him. You jumped higher in the water on top of him to dunk his head under and tried your best to drown him.
It wasn’t until you were relaxing on the couch later that night doing your routinely social media scroll that you saw one of the guys recorded your sunscreen interaction by the pool, you calling Mat a dumbass, and him throwing you in the pool onto their instagram story with a caption “all these two do is fight” with some laughing crying emojis added for effect.
2.
After a long day or hiking, you’d immediately crashed on the couch once you’d gotten back to the house, not bothering to walk all the way to your room. It was only early in the afternoon but you’d been out since sunrise, and dealing with people for hours on end had drained you. The group laughed at you as you plopped your body down onto the couch, curling your head under your arm instead of grabbing the pillow two feet away from you. The rest of them gathered in the kitchen, refueling their bodies with assorted snacks as they started popping open bottles of beer, ready to start the night. It seemed that even an entire day on their feet had not emptied them of their, seemingly endless, energy.
“Jesus Christ, we hiked for, like, six hours and you’re all still bouncing off the walls,” you sighed deeply.
“We’re about to go hit the boat and go water skiing, too. I’m assuming you’re too tired to join us?” Tyson teased.
“I will not be joining you because unlike some people, I need a nap. Now get out of here, you’re all giving me a headache,” you said, pinching your fingers on the bridge of your nose to emphasize your point.
They all snickered but kept quiet as they shuffled around, packing up more food to take outside. You heard the sliding door shut and close a few times as they ran in and out before it was finally silent. You let out a sigh of relief as you took solace in the calm quiet.
That was until you felt a pair of arms shifting you closer to the edge of the couch. You peeked one eye open to see Mat rolling your body over to give him some space as he climbed over your body to nestle himself between you and the back cushions.
“Not going out on the boat?” You asked as he tucked a pillow under the both of your heads and pulled a blanket over your bodies.
“No. They’re exhausting. I need some time for myself,” Mat replied, wrapping his arm around your middle to pull you into his chest.
“No offense, but if you’re with me, you’re not by yourself,” you explained, closing your eyes again as you settled into a comfortable position.
“Yeah, but you’re you. You don’t exhaust me,” he said quietly. You didn’t know what to say to that, so you didn’t answer. Within a few seconds you heard Mat’s breathing even out, and you followed quickly behind him into a deep sleep.
-
A couple hours passed in a dreamless sleep when you heard the sliding of doors and laughter travel through the house. It stirred you from your sleep and you both shifted around, letting out displeased groans.
“Are they both still asleep?” You heard one of them ask from the kitchen. Neither of you wanted to answer in hopes they would leave you two to continue sleeping.
You were sadly mistaken.
“Hey! Sleeping beauties! Time to get up!” Tyson shouted from somewhere above you.
You both groaned out a “Fuck off, Tyson,” without opening your eyes, both of you giving him the middle finger. Tyson laughed to himself and you expected him to keep bothering you, but you heard his footsteps lead away from the couch. You turned over on your other side, tucking your face into Mat’s neck before falling back asleep.
-
When you woke up later that evening, you checked instagram again to see Tyson posted a new story. It was the video of him bothering you two and flipping him off with a caption that said “I get no respect around here :(“
3.
It had been raining all day. Which meant everyone was stuck inside watching movies and eating pizza. It didn’t take long for you to get bored of lounging on the couch, especially when all they wanted to do was watch Fast and Furious movies. You sat on the loveseat you were sharing with Mat, and you distracted yourself from the boring movie by tangling your hands in your hair, French braiding the strands into pigtails mindlessly. You unbraided and rebraided your hair into a fishtail after the pigtails, and then into a regular braided ponytail after that. You let yourself get caught up in daydreams as you stared blankly at the TV when Mat started tugging on your leg. Dropping your braid, you finished tying it off with a hair tie and turned to look at him.
“Let me practice on you,” Mat said quietly.
“Practice what?” You asked.
“Braiding,” he said, shuffling to sit upright. He tried to gently push you off the couch until you got the hint and moved to sit between his legs on the floor.
“You think you can do it?” You asked, ready to offer him a demonstration.
“I’ve been watching you for the past half hour, I got this,” he replied, pulling out your hair tie. You rolled your eyes at his confidence, but let him continue unraveling the strands.
Every few minutes Mat would sigh exasperatedly before pulling out the twists he’d made to start over. Eventually, he’d almost gotten all the way to the end of your hair before he sighed again, clearly fed up by how long this was taking him. You didn’t say anything as he restarted for a third time, going for a straight back braid instead of a French braid.
After another ten minutes, Mat had finally completed his simple braid, tying your hair off with the tie. He tapped your shoulder to indicate he was done, and you pulled the long tail over your shoulder to look at it.
It was a braid.
An extremely loose one where he mixed up the strand order in a couple places, but a braid nonetheless. You turned around to get back up on the couch, and you were met with his triumphant smile.
“Good job, bud,” you complimented, leaving the braid in as you resumed your previous position on the couch.
-
You checked your phone to find a notification of a new story tag. You opened the app to see a picture of you on the floor, staring at the TV while Mat had his hands twisted in your hair and a confused look on his face and tongue poking out of his mouth. Next to your instagram tag was “he’s been knotting her hair on purpose for 20 minutes now”
4.
Your final exams for the summer classes you were taking were in a week. Finals stressed you out more than anything else in the world, and when you were stressed, you did a lot of baking. A lot of baking. After finishing your finals study schedule and nearly breaking down almost twice because of the amount you had to get done, you decided to start baking instead of going to sleep. So, at 3 in the morning when everyone was asleep, you’d turned on the oven and brought out the bowls.
It began with a few dozen cookies. You figured everyone could at least enjoy the cookies. Who didn’t like cookies?
Cookies turned into muffins, muffins into cupcakes, and then cupcakes into pies. By the time everyone was waking up, it was nearly eleven in the morning. You’d gone to the store twice and had taken a few twenty minute naps while you waited for your desserts baked in the oven. And right now, you were in the middle of finishing off some cinnamon rolls for breakfast
“Oh my god, what the hell happened here?” Mat had asked with a scared expression, taking note of the disastrous kitchen. You didn’t answer him as you were topping off the rolls with some icing.
A few more bodies had gathered in the kitchen and began to fill the seats at the countertop while they watched you with worried eyes.
“What?” You asked innocently, placing the plates of cinnamon rolls in front of all of them. Their eyes followed you carefully as you pulled more goods out of the oven where you were keeping them warm. Plate after plate you set on the counter, all the cookies and muffins and cakes.
“How long have you been up?” Tyson asked cautiously. You swear you’ve never heard him use a softer voice than right now.
“I’m not sure. I never went to sleep, I guess? What time is it now?” You asked, pulling out glasses for orange juice.
“Nearly noon. You seriously didn’t sleep?” Tyson asked. The others had delved into the confections, eyes bouncing between the two of you as they stuffed their faces.
“She’s stress baking,” Mat replied quietly, helping himself to a cinnamon roll.
“What the hell is tress baking?” One of the other guys asked.
“Yeah she does this when she’s stressed. Usually when finals are coming up,” Mat said, directing it more towards you than his friend. You gave him a sheepish look, deciding not to comment since he already answered for you.
Mat was used to your stress baking as it resulted in you showing up at his place in the middle of the night with bags full of pastries in the late hours of the evening. It was always against his diet and he frequently gave most of your desserts to his neighbor, but he could never tell you no when you arrived with gifts.
“Well, I’m all out of flour, so, I’m going to run to the store again to get some more supplies so I can make a chocolate cake later,” you said hurriedly.
You did a quick double check of the kitchen, flashing all the guys a bright smile before heading out the door with your purse in hand, all of them staring until the front door shut behind you.
-
When you came back, you found Mat in the kitchen doing the dishes and nearly all the sweets you’d baked earlier were eaten or wrapped and put away. Maybe there was a plus side to being in a home with five other people.
“Mat, you don’t have to do that,” you said, setting your groceries down and hip checking him away from the sink.
“You’re already stressed, I figured doing the dishes would take away some of that,” he said with a shrug. He continued rinsing out some bowls as you gave him a small smile.
The two of you continued to wash the dishes in silence, moving to clean the countertops when you were done. After half an hour, the mess you’d made was gone and any signs of a baking breakdown had been erased.
It was a shame you were about to tear up the kitchen all over again.
“How about this,” Mat said, noticing the frown on your face at the thought of making another mess, “Let’s have a competition.”
You quirked your eyebrow, “I’m listening.”
“You said you were making a chocolate cake, right? How about we see who can make the better cake,” Mat propositioned.
You raised both your eyebrows this time. You both knew you were the better baker by a long shot. You did have this same breakdown at least twice a year. You weren’t even sure Mat knew how to make anything that didn’t come with box instructions or included possible salmonella-inducing ingredients.
You knew what he was really trying to do. He was trying to distract you from all the stress, and he knew you couldn’t turn down a competition. You were just as bad as him when it came to winning. Thankfully, this was something you knew you’d win.
“Fine, but I hope you’re prepared to lose,” you agreed with a smile.
“I don’t know, I have been practicing my cooking skills lately,” he said, grabbing the bowls he’d just dried off.
“Yeah, I’ll believe that when I see it,” you replied with an eye roll and heavy sarcasm.
You joined him in gathering all the ingredients and materials on the counter, setting up your respective stations. Mat divided the workspace in half, drawing a line in flour which made you laugh. You split the bowls between the sides and set up the ingredients on the second counter just like an actual cooking show.
“Okay, ground rules first. Half an hour to make the cakes, we bake them at the same time, and then another half hour for decorating at the end,” you explained, tying your hair back in a ponytail. Mat nodded at your statement and set a timer on his phone for 30 minutes.
“Ready.”
“Set.”
“Go!”
-
After about two hours, your creations were done. Well, they were supposed to be. Mat’s cake looked more or less like a brown lump coated in frosting and stripes. You’d tried your best to decorate yours with small chocolate roses, but you could’ve turned out a plain cake and probably would have done better.
“I think I won,” you stated confidently.
“You’re not allowed to decide, you’re biased! I’ll make a poll on my story,” Mat said, going to grab his phone.
“You can’t do that, your followers are going to pick yours.”
“Fine, we’ll get someone else to do it— Josty! Come here,” Mat called to his friend passing through the kitchen. He hesitantly walked over to where you were, not wanting to come in the middle of whatever you two were shouting about.
“We need you to make an instagram poll to see who’s cake looks better. Oh, and you’re going to taste test them,” you said, picking up your cake to pose for a picture as Mat did the same. Tyson sighed before realizing you two were serious and he opened his app to take a picture.
He added the photo to his story with a poll asking “Which one is better?” With two options, Y/N’s or Mat’s.
After you set the cakes back down, Tyson picked up a fork before stabbing them to pick out a chunk from each. He ate yours first, nearly moaning at the taste.
“Holy shit, this is, like, the best cake I’ve ever eaten,” Tyson said, shoveling down another forkful. You gave Mat a shit-eating grin.
“Okay, okay, try mine now,” Mat said, displeased. Tyson rolled his eyes before forking out some of his.
“Uh,” he coughed, “it’s a little,” cough, “dry.”
“What? No, it’s not! Let me try,” Mat shouted, outraged, and grabbed Tyson’s fork to try for himself.
It took him two seconds before he was spitting the cake into a napkin.
“Fine. You win,” Mat conceded, throwing a dish towel against the counter in mock fury.
You gloated for another 5 minutes, pointing out Mat’s terrible baking skills as Tyson continued to eat your cake and laugh at Mat.
You won the instagram poll too.
+ 1
It was the last week before you and Mat were flying back to New York. The past month had passed quickly, and Mat needed to get back for the start of training camps. As the summer began to end, the whole crew thought they’d spend one last day on the boat before everyone started parting ways.
It’s not like you were opposed to being on boats, but when all the guys did was water sports and no one wanted to slow down to teach you, it wasn’t as fun.
Today, however, had been quite calm as you sat against the front of the boat, a seltzer in hand as you watched Tyson wakeboarding in the back. Mat was curled up behind you as you leaned back against his chest, tanned skin shining in the summer sun. You reached back to grab the baseball cap off his head, placing it on yours to shield your eyes from the sun. You’d forgotten to bring sunglasses, and you figured Mat could part with his hat since he had a pair.
The day passed peacefully as all the guys took turns until it was sunset. Mat had joined you back on the seat, skin wet from just getting out of the water. He wrapped you in his arms before pulling you onto his lap, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek.
“Hey, Tys, take a picture of us real quick,” Mat said, shoving his phone into Tyson’s chest.
You thought nothing of it, you and Mat had taken many pictures together, and this was no different. Mat rested his chin on your shoulder, his arms wrapped around your stomach as you both gave your cheesiest smiles to the camera. A quick shutter indicated the picture was taken and Tyson gave Mat his phone back.
-
Mat called your name from your bed as you stood in the adjoined bathroom, finishing your nightly routine.
“Hey, do you mind if I post that picture of us on my instagram?” Mat called out.
“The one from the boat? Why?” You asked, drying off your face with a towel.
“It’s a cute picture,” he shrugged when you reentered the room.
“People are going to start talking if you do,��� you warned with a cautious tone.
He paused for a second.
“Would that be such a bad thing?” Mat asked quietly, looking up to meet your eyes.
You stayed silent as you climbed in under the covers.
“What are you trying to say, Mat?”
He took a deep breath, “I think you’re amazing, you know that. And we’ve been friends for so long, it kind of feels natural, doesn’t it?” His fingers began tapping against the sheets anxiously as he held his breath and waited for your response.
You gave him a small smile, moving your body around to fully face him.
“It does,” you agreed, “But if you want us to be something more, you’re going to have to ask me on a date first.”
“A date? After I’ve already gotten you into bed? What’s the point?” You knew he meant it as a joke since he could barely finish the sentence without laughing, but you gently slapped his head as he began to apologize.
“I’m kidding!” He said between chuckles, “Will you go on a date with me once we get back to New York and it’s safe to go out again?”
“I’d love to, Mat,” you replied, leaning in to give him a sweet kiss.
“I’m still going to post that photo tomorrow, though,” he said after a short pause, smiling against your lips.
-
The next day when Mat had gone on a fishing trip with the guys, you saw a notification pop up on your phone.
“@barzal97 tagged you in a photo”
You unlocked your phone.
“Isolation isn’t so bad when you have this girl to spend it with”
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Title: Escape
Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader
Notes: Actual pairing interaction starts in the second section after the Reader character gets out of the elevator, feel free to skip down to that if you like. Reader thinks about Peter in the first section, but it is more setting up how they got so separated from the others, plus a Wolvie cameo. I wanted Peter x Reader to be able to have more interaction away from the group.
Summary: Continuation of previous chapter. Set during X-Men: Age of Apocalypse. You and the others have been taken to Stryker’s base and must survive to find your way out together.
Warnings: Wolverine cameo advisory with a 100% chance of stabby stab. Mild language.
Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Taglist: @drikawinchester , @n0obmaster69 , @alexloveskili , @what-a-silver-lining , @bluesprings18 , @weakmoony-stuff , @slytherinsi-mp
Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist
——————————
“The day of reckoning is here.”
Your eyes opened at once, that unmistakeable voice now reverberating through your mind as fluorescent lights passed one after another above you.
“Professor?” You breathed aloud, immediately trying to sit up on the moving gurney.
But the restraints were drawn too tightly as your head only rebounded backward just as quickly when your torso didn’t rise in tandem.
“Shit!” the guard to your left cursed, his hand drawing back from the gurney rail at your sudden movement.
You turned your head towards him, confused, even as the professor’s words continued in your mind.
Yet Xavier’s voice sounded strange, forced. And you didn’t understand the context. Was it a warning? A threat to someone?
It didn’t really seem to fit the current circumstances to say it was directed at you or your captors. But he only kept speaking.
“The dawn of a new era will emerge. For there is nothing you can do...to stop what is coming.”
The two guards were looking around too then, reacting in sync with the telepathic message leaving you no doubt that they could hear it as well.
But why would Xavier be in their heads too? Did he already know where you were?
One guard chided the other, as if the two of them didn’t both have the same frightened expression. “Damn stun pulse is wearing off it is all, just hurry up and finish this transport. Colonel Stryker wants it taken to the lower testing bay,”
“Don’t tell me you aren’t hearing that voice?” The other guard retorted, “What the hell is that?”
Did they just call you an ‘it’? What was this place? Not a hospital surely. But you could barely dwell on the implications of the guard’s words ‘lower testing bay’, and the impending threat that represented as your last memories finally began to bubble up.
The X-Mansion in rubble, the helicopters swooping in over the trees, the students and staff unconscious in the grass, that soldier cracking your ribs, and-
Peter.
He was a stranger to you still, but he’d been right there against you. Surely you had drawn more attention to him just because your powers had let you resist a few moments longer than the others. Because you’d been so stubborn, not going down until you’d been forced to.
If these men had hurt any of your friends, you would be furious. But if Peter, who had also saved so many of your friends was now in more severe danger because of your actions, you wouldn’t forgive yourself.
“Where did you take the others!?” You arched against the restraints abruptly, your palms opening to face upward, trying to summon any bit of your energy at all. A wisp, an orb, anything that could have helped you right now. You had to find your friends.
But nothing came. Not even a glow or flicker of what you truly were as you now had both guards’ full attention.
“Freak! Just shut up!” One of them shoved the gurney in retaliation to your outburst, the caster wheels rattling across the concrete floor before the bed rail hit against one of the walls, jarring you painfully.
“Those with the greatest power. Protect those without. That's my message to the world.”
Xavier concluded his words then. And somehow, that sounded more like himself than any of the rest of it. The real meaning still eluded you, but hearing him in that tone at least meant he was okay. He was somewhere urging the rest of you on. At least this part you knew was true as you took a calming breath, realizing panic and anger would serve you nothing right now.
Something was blocking your powers. That much was obvious. It would be unrealistic to think that the effects of any stun weapon would be this long lasting though.
On the other hand, you knew chemicals existed that could also temporarily block mutations. Hank used one almost medicinally whenever he didn’t wish to be in his true “Beast” form. But it had to be injected direct into the veins to have any real effect.
You could feel that they hadn’t removed any of your clothing, nor had they rolled up the long sleeves you were wearing. You doubted they would risk a chemical like that wearing off at an inopportune time and likely would have started an IV if they possessed anything of that nature.
There were no tubes or lines attached to you that you could tell, only the restraints now holding you to this bed. Leather straps across your body, metal cuffs on your ankles and wrists-
But wait, you were able to move your head as you’d already discovered. You shifted it again, trying to get a better feel of what was around your neck. Metal as well, but loose as you could still lift your head up enough to see it just a bit. It and its dull, red status light.
Inhibitor collar, you realized with an all new dread sinking in. You had heard of these of course, but it was the kind of thing that students sheltered at Xavier’s school would never have to dream of really. Something you never thought you’d have to experience personally.
How naive.
But you still couldn’t give up. Your mind was racing as you tried to come up with any strategies now. Your options were so limited, but they couldn’t keep you tied down forever. Surely they’d have to move you to a more permanent containment at some point, untie you if even for a moment.
Yet, there were guns as well. You hadn’t missed that detail, but you considered it more fully now as you glanced to the long barrells swaying behind each guard’s back as they pushed you along.
They were slowing now though. You raised your head enough again to see elevator doors nearing. The lower testing bay, you remembered them saying.
But just as one guard had started to reach for the keypad beside the doors, an alarm blared, all three of you startling at the sound.
Orange lights lit up along the walls, spinning in time with the sirens.
“Weapon X is loose. I repeat, Weapon X is loose!” A man’s unnerved voice sounded over speakers you couldn’t see, echoing down the corridors.
You could only watch as both guards spun around on their heels at that, guns immediately drawn. The one thing you could be absolutely sure of then, was that you were now the very least of their concerns.
Before you could consider how to use this surprise in your favor though, screams and the echo of gunfire erupted seemingly on top of you all.
The guards were terrified. This could be your only chance.
“Take this collar off of me, please! I can help you!” You weren’t begging as much as you were truly trying to reason with them. “Look, this is serious right!?”
More men were screaming just around the corner. Only feet away now. Clearly their time to consider had run out.
You saw one of the guards glance down at you, weighing your offer if just for that moment. The other was still staring straight ahead, gun braced, body rigid.
“FIRE!” The one not looking at you screamed, and that was it. It was too late.
You flinched as the gunfire rang deafening in your ears, the muzzle flashes just above you while empty bullet shells rained onto the floor.
You didn’t know how many bullets their gun magazines could hold, but the barrage seemed to just go on and on until an inhuman snarl rose even above the pounding gunshots.
Like a blur he was upon them. One guard was immediately thrown against a nearby wall, as if he were made of paper. His gun didn’t even faze the attacker.
You were frozen as you had to watch him die in front of you. Metal blades impaled the guard, blood splatter running down the wall as his body fell. You wished the other guard would have just turned and ran, but that probably would have been fruitless now too if you were being honest.
The attacker had turned immediately back around, one slash knocking the gun away from the remaining guard, and the second taking out his throat.
You were too in shock to do anything but close your eyes in the moment you felt some of the blood hit you. It was warm was all you could really process, before you opened your eyes again to now see the killer standing over you.
His breath was fast, eyes black, no emotion evident but rage. He had no clothing on him above the waist, just muscular and bloodied with metal cords coming out of his body and attaching to some sort of helmet.
You heard the random sound of more bits of metal hitting the ground, and thought you saw a few bullets working out in reverse from his flesh.
He was one of you then, a mutant.
But you were afraid to speak. Anything could set him off again.
He was looking down at you, through you really. You thought you saw his eyes go to your throat. The collar? Or maybe you just imagined it. Everything was happening in just seconds.
His arm swung suddenly, those blades were part of him you realized, attached to his fists as they came for you. At least it would be a quick death.
You felt a burning, heard ripping and even the metal of the bed breaking as he struck more than once.
“He’s here!” Someone else screamed from back down the hallway and the gunfire started all over again.
You moved at the sound, why you didn’t know, it should have been all over regardless. But in your amazement, you realized you could move. His claws had broken through the restraints, broken the bolts that held you to the bed. You were bleeding, but only from cuts as he’d grazed you.
He’d freed you.
The gurney tumbled over with a clatter as you jumped from it. But bullets were hitting all around you as the guards continued to fire at him. You still had the inhibitor collar on, so you couldn’t defend from that. You weren’t bulletproof like him.
And he was already charging them again, but there were so many this time. A bullet grazed your arm, and you knew you had to get out of there now.
You turned, hitting the elevator keypad. You had no choice as you wouldn’t make it out of this hallway otherwise. You ducked inside as soon as the doors opened, trying to stay against the sides even as bullets were now hitting the back of the elevator. The only way was down, and you took it.
As the doors closed, and the elevator finally sank below the firing line, you allowed yourself some real breaths.
To think, just hours ago your main concern had only been whether or not you were ready for Hank’s organic chemistry final. You’d laugh if you weren’t still trembling a little, clothes torn and blood all over, most of it not even your own.
Now it was time to find the others and a way out.
—————————
“(Y/N)?” You heard in your mind, pausing in the abandoned hallway you were now wandering down. You’d left the elevator behind some time ago, but hadn’t yet found any other way back off this level.
“Jean?” You answered aloud, both surprised and relieved. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. We are now. I saw them take you too, but where are you?”
Talking to a telepath was always a bit strange. You could feel her own stress and anxiety as she began to fill your mind. She wanted to see what you were seeing.
You looked around you to oblige her, but from what you could tell every corridor only looked like more of the same in this labyrinth.
“I got into an elevator when all the shooting started, when that man-“
“Logan. We met him too. He’s escaped now, he-” She paused, your recent memories now visible to her. “He helped you.”
“He did.” You felt she both was and wasn’t surprised at this.
“Anyway,” She continued as if something was distracting her, like she was physically talking to someone else, while mentally talking to you. “The Professor needs us. We’re sending Peter to find you. He’ll bring you to us and then we’re leaving together.”
“Okay,” Was all you could answer, as you felt Jean leave your mind abruptly at that. You remembered Xavier’s odd speech earlier, something you really hadn’t had time to deconstruct any further with everything else that had happened immediately after. You supposed they would fill you in when you were all reunited.
But you did feel a significant weight leave your shoulders at the mention of Peter’s name, even though it sounded like this horrific day was still far from over. He was okay too then at least. You hadn’t screwed up enough to get him hurt in a way you couldn’t take back.
Yet how long would it take for him to find you? Should you just stay in place, or go back to the elevator now? You hadn’t found any stairwells or other-
“(Y/N)?”
You’d be lying to say you didn’t almost fall over in surprise as a tiny gust of air was the only other thing that announced him as Peter was suddenly standing beside you.
“You’re as bad as Kurt!” You gasped, before you could stop yourself. You clenched one fist at your side, at least having the self control not to punch him right in the arm as you might have done with some of the boys at school if they had given you that kind of scare.
“That’s the blue kid with the tail right? Not to be confused with the big blue hairy guy, he’s the one that told me your name by the way, or the blue famous chick from TV?” He shook his head, but his eyes were amused. “You guys have some kind of quota on the color blue or what?”
You stared at him. He did like to talk didn’t he?
When you didn’t respond right away, you saw his eyes wander down, then back up. “Red said you’d be a bit of a mess, but you sure you’re okay?”
Your shirt was torn from well, now you knew him as Logan...that man’s claws. Those cuts were still bleeding a bit, but the guard’s blood was on you as well. The metal shackles were also still on your wrists and ankles, though their chains had been broken, and the inhibitor collar was around your neck. Yes, you must look quite a sight.
“You mean Jean,” you corrected. She must have given him some warning at least before sending him. “Yeah, I’m fine. So you found another way out of here, we should-”
But he didn’t seem to be listening, either that or you weren’t very convincing on the being okay sentiment.
He looked quite serious all of the sudden. “I’m sorry I didn’t help you when Colonel douchebag was trying to work you over.”
You blinked. What was he talking about?
“Stryker I guess they said his name was, the guy that kicked you back at the house.” He just continued. “That piece of shit bailed already.”
“How did you know about that?” You asked honestly. Peter had been unconscious as far as you’d known.
“I mean I was in and out,” He answered, seemingly understanding your confusion now. “But uh...” He hesitated, kind of an awkward smirk building then. “I definitely remember you laying on me. The impact wasn’t that great, but afterward was pretty nice.”
Your felt a heat rising to your face immediately. The absurdity of being physically embarrassed at his implication and tone, as you stood here literally bleeding in the belly of some mutant torturing black ops lab was not lost on you.
“Look, I...” You didn’t even know what to say, but you knew if you didn’t start talking now you were never going to recover control here. “I’m really glad they didn’t hurt you, and I’m sorry too if I got you involved deeper in all of this. And I want to thank you for pulling everyone out of the mansion this morning. We owe you so much. I just-” Oh man, where were you even going with this? You looked to him still feeling like you were just digging yourself deeper, “You can stop me anytime now you know?”
He was now outright grinning. “You’re welcome, babe.”
Not helping. AT ALL.
You were staring at him again. “They’re going to be waiting on us, you know,” You felt you were going to be pleading with him in a moment.
“I know, places to be, worlds to save...” He just moved closer and you tensed a little bit. He noticed, but stood his ground. “I have to brace you or you’re just going to be hurt even more when I run you back to them.”
“So is that how you do it, then? You’re just that fast?” You asked honestly. His actual mutation wasn’t something there’d been any chance to discuss. You could infer only so many ways he would have been able to evacuate those in the mansion almost instantaneously. But you knew teleporters too, even people who could move through reality on other planes. There was always more than one way to do something.
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” He chuckled, smirking enough for you to know he was still just picking with you as one of his hands went behind your head and the other to your ribs to brace you. He really did know where you’d been hit then.
His hands were warm, and you could smell that damn cologne again now as you tried to ready yourself for whatever was about to happen.
You didn’t know what you had expected. You knew how it felt to take off in a jet, or slam the gas pedal down in one of the Professor’s expensive cars, or ride on a really intense roller coaster. But this wasn’t that. There wasn’t even any time for your brain to register the acceleration. It felt like just a single heartbeat before you were standing back in front of those elevator doors with him.
It was the deceleration that hit you. By the time your body knew it was moving, it had already stopped again, your organs lurching and your equilibrium completely thrown off as vertigo took over. You leaned forward immediately, trying not to dry heave as puking seemed almost imminent.
He took one of your hands, his other hand moving down from your ribs to your waist as he helped support you still.
“It’ll pass. It happens to everyone the first time,” He spoke, probably the softest tone you’d heard from him to this point.
“You’re telling me there are people who have been-” You swallowed, fighting that nausea back down. “have been with you multiple times?” You meant to say multiple times like that. People who needed to be rescued this way multiple times. You stood up, still queasy as you tried to face him and correct this blunder immediately. Why did this guy have you so flustered!?
“I’m not normally like this,” you stammered, waiting for some great retort from him as you’d just left yourself wide open with that slip.
It was only then that you realized he still had one hand on your waist, and you were now facing him, just inches apart. And the silence was worse. It was much worse while he was just looking back at you.
“No,” He finally said, “I uh...I don’t have anyone that’s stayed around long enough for that.”
He wasn’t joking at all now and you knew it.
“I didn’t mean...” You started, but stopped again when you didn’t know how to finish.
But the vulnerability was gone just as soon as it’d come. His smirk returned as he let go of you, moving forward to hit the keypad for the elevator. “I did look for stairwells by the way, if you were wondering. It only took me as long as it did to find you down here because this damn elevator is slow as hell.”
You actually were a little relieved to finally be focusing back to the task at hand. But you still felt an unspoken conversation lingering that would need to be continued later. You wanted him to know who you really were.
And honestly...you now wanted to know who he really was.
The harsh buzz from the keypad brought you back to attention as Peter hit it again.
A tiny screen blinked “CODE ERROR” in red as he groaned. “It didn’t need a damn code to come down, that makes no sense!”
You responded in a few moments, realizing the likely truth fairly quickly. “But it would make sense if you were more concerned about things getting out of the lab than you were of things getting in.” The same would be true for the lack of entry and exit points. They surely weren’t concerned with fire safety or anything else but keeping their specimens captive when they built this place.
“Ugh, that’s dark,” He answered, glancing at you and then back to the keypad. “You’re almost making me not feel so bad for all the guys that looked like swiss cheese on the way down here. But lucky for you, you’ve got me, and these five hombres.” He waved his fingers at you before immediately beginning to punch in multiple codes in faster succession than of course would have been possible for anyone else.
“Peter, I don’t think-” You started, already having a good suspicion of how this might play out, before the keypad abruptly quit accepting inputs, the tiny screen then blinking LOCKOUT. The only thing that did surprise you was a new even thicker door suddenly closing over the original elevator doors.
And you couldn’t help it then. You laughed. A real laugh. It was just the dumbest icing on the cake. “Okay, Han Solo. I think that will do.” You didn’t care if he would understand the reference or not. You needed that laugh right now.
But he didn’t let you down. Not even for a moment. “Okay then Leia, then you show me how we’re getting past here to save the ugly little ewoks.”
You were still snickering a little, but you shook your head. “I can’t,” You motioned to the inhibitor collar still around your neck. “Not with this on. It’s blocking my powers.” You had hoped once you were all back topside that Hank would be able to disarm the thing. It was probably radio controlled or something like that. “We’ll have to wait on Jean and the others to realize we’re taking too long, they’ll come for us.”
“I don’t wait,” Peter retorted. “Besides, like I said, I showed you mine. Time to show me yours.” He tilted his head, eyeing you. “Really, I’ve been dying to know.”
“Sure you have,” You were skeptical, but it was actually hard to read him right now. Was he actually that curious about you? “And I’ve already tried to take it off, it doesn’t budge.”
“Again, babe. You didn’t have me before.” The smug tone was back, as he evidently had some plan you didn’t know if you were going to like or not.
“You realize, this thing is nearly against my jugular veins, right? What are you going to do?” You had every right to be hesitant you thought. Especially after the keypad failure.
“Just be still. I’m going to vibrate it apart.” He answered confidently.
Okay, now you really didn’t like this. “Again, head, throat, things I need to stay in one piece. What if it has some self destruct thing and explodes?”
“I can pull you away from that before it even burns you. How do you think your friends lived when your house blew up this morning?”
You could have mentioned Alex’s fate then, but that would have been needlessly cruel. Alex must have already been gone before Peter even entered the building. He did save everyone else you thought.
“Trust me,” Peter looked you in the eyes and you could feel yourself relenting.
You really did believe him it seemed. Hopefully that faith was not misplaced. “Please be careful,” You closed your eyes, going stock still.
“For you? Of course.”
You heard his jacket move, which told you he was raising his arms. Internally you tensed-
And then all you heard were pieces of metal and circuitry skittering across the floor in every direction. You were still standing exactly as you had been as you opened your eyes to a too pleased with himself Peter.
“Some shrapnel did try to go into your face, but I moved the pieces. No kaboom though.” His expression changed then to happily expectant, “So come on, I’ve helped three times now, the stage is now yours,” He made an exagerrated motion to the big metal door now blocking the elevator. “What’s your poison?”
Poison? An interesting way to put it, but you knew what he meant. All mutant abilities were both a gift and a curse. Yet even after all these years of meeting people of your own kind, it was still very personal to show someone your real self for the very first time.
Especially when you evidently cared what he thought of you as you realized your nerves were suddenly about much more than just being able to get open a door or not. How would he react?
You took a breath, still extremely aware of his eyes on you as you turned your palms upward. It was always easiest to start with your hands. But you’d need to bring the energy all the way through you to get the kind of power it was going to take to pull this door out.
There was a slight relief in you as your hands began to glow white after a moment. At least you knew you were no longer defenseless, that these people hadn’t taken your abilities permanently.
In your peripheral vision you could see Peter shift, but you didn’t look to him, trying to concentrate as the energy spread up your arms and you closed your eyes. It always felt so warm, like being in the sun on a clear day. It spread to your chest, legs, up your shoulders and over your face. Even through your hair as you willed the energy to lift you up, now completely enveloped until you were a silhouette of a person. Glowing in soft white light and levitating about a foot off the floor.
You opened your eyes again, feeling you had things in control enough now to speak to him. The tone of your voice changed slightly in this form though. There was a hum to it, the energy moving across your vocal chords like every other part of you.
“I’m going to try and pull the door out of the way and into the hall. Please be ready to move as I won’t have a lot of control over it once it gives. My effort is going to all be on breaking it.”
You looked to him after a moment though when he didn’t respond. You knew he was fast enough to keep himself safe obviously, but you had to be sure he was ready. Was he really just staring at you? “Peter?”
He blinked. “Yeah, uh. That’s...” He stepped back from the door, but never took his eyes off you, this weird expression on his face. “That’s cool.”
“Please mind the door,” You reiterated gently, not quite sure what to make of his reaction to your powers.
“Sure, sure thing.” He sounded more like himself then. “Do your deal.”
Your deal as he put it, involved willing this same energy now in a field around the door as you rose your hand up to control it. Once you were sure you had it solidly, you began pulling your hand back, trying to pull the door out of its railing.
It gradually started to creak, but like you’d thought, this was going to take some real doing. You pulled harder and harder, the metal just groaning louder. “Come on,” You spoke, not really sure if you were talking more to yourself or the door.
Your arm was starting to really ache with the effort. But just when you thought you might have to try something else after all, you finally felt the door give. And when it gave, it did so spectacularly. This massive chunk of metal collapsed, exploding out of its rail as it rocketed down the hallway. You just moved to the side to avoid it, the smaller pieces hitting you harmlessly in this form.
To your eyes it only looked like Peter disappeared and then reappeared as he also easily missed all the debris.
Once that obstacle was out of the way, you glided down, back to the normal elevator doors. They were slightly damaged from the removal of the larger door. But now it only took minimum effort to force them open.
You entered the elevator, the inner keypad was also blinking that same “LOCKOUT” error from earlier. So the elevator itself was going nowhere. But this was now no longer an issue for you.
“I can carry us up,” You looked to Peter, though unsure how comfortable he would be with this new idea.
He was standing at the entrance of the elevator already, watching you still. You could see the wheels in his head turning. And then he finally asked. “So, you’re glowing...and flying. Is this like radioactive glow, or I just need some sunscreen kind of glow?”
“It’s just light energy in the visible spectrum.” You answered reflexively. “But not even UV, the wavelength itself doesn’t cause any damage. It’s only when I make it solid or make it unstable that I can do anything harmful with it.”
You could see he may have skipped the lessons on long and short wave energy and radiation in science class as he just kept staring.
“You’re fine, it’s safe” You smiled. Certainly not the first time you had heard such questions. “The Professor and Hank had me tested from the very beginning, I never would have been allowed so close to other students without more precautions if I was that dangerous.”
“So you’re...close to some other students?” He asked almost tauntingly, one eyebrow raised, and it took you a moment before you realized he may be getting back at you for your comments from before.
It was probably just the fact that you were in your energy form now, but you felt confident enough to respond just as quickly, “It’s more like the Brady Bunch than what you’re thinking. Like having a whole house of little brothers and sisters.”
You had already opened up the ceiling of the elevator while the two of you talked, looking up now to the empty shaft and elevator cables. It’d be much easier to move the two of you rather than to try and lift the whole elevator. You reached a hand out to Peter. “I can lift us up the shaft to the floor that the others are on and open the doors, then you can take us to them. Deal?”
You had trusted him to bring you here, as well as to remove that collar from you. Would he now trust you to bring him up several floors without dropping him?
He was looking at your hand. “I probably could just run up the walls you know.”
You paused, realizing you hadn’t considered that. You didn’t really know what all he was capable of truly. But just as you started to lower your hand, he surprised you by grabbing and holding it.
“Yet how many guys can say they flew with you, huh?”
“Practically none,” You admitted. “I don’t make a habit of picking up my friends.”
“You aren’t quite building confidence here.”
“I’m sure that door weighed more than you.”
“And look how it ended up. Again, not comforting.”
This guy was truly something else. “Come here, we take much longer and they really are going to be sending a search party for us.”
You extended the energy from your hand across his body gently. He was obviously much lighter than the door, and the closer you kept him, the easier it would be to move the both of you.
You tried not to make eye contact with him again as you levitated the two of you through the top of the elevator and up through the shaft. Even though you knew you were fully capable of doing this, you still didn’t want to lose focus.
But his voice didn’t sound frightened at all as he spoke up to let you know how high to go. “They’re on the top floor, we’re stealing a jet to get out of here.”
“Wow, but okay. Got it,” You sped up a little at that, no longer worried about passing your landing point as you went straight to the top.
When you reached the highest doors, you were able to force them open with a turn of your free hand, bringing you and Peter safely through and back onto solid ground.
You powered down immediately as your feet met the floor, the light fading back into your body until you were just standing there in your torn, bloody clothes once more. “Okay, I’m ready to get nauseous again, let’s go.”
He actually squeezed your hand before he let go of it in order to brace your head and ribs again. “For the record that felt pretty good. You’re really warm. Zero g’s was cool too. Thanks.”
“Um...you’re welcome?” You answered, a little flustered all over again to your own dismay, and really not knowing what else to say before he whisked you away in an instant.
It really was going to be the longest day ever.
——————————
(Continued in next chapter here)
#quicksilver x reader#quicksilver#peter maximoff#peter maximoff x oc#peter maximoff x you#peter maximoff x y/n#peter maximoff x reader#peter maximof x reader#x men apocalypse#quicksilver x y/n#quicksilver x you#x men fanfiction#x men
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“lucky ending” extra notes i & iii
Hi, I said I would do it but then I released ver i so long ago that I felt I shouldn't do this unless I had another version out at least so yay! finally! ... I'll add ver ii here when I get around to writing it... *shifty eyes* So as usual, this is just my thought process and ideas while writing lol.
*please do not read if you haven’t read “lucky ending” ver i (dorm leaders) & ver iii (rook & lilia).
It was inspired by an anon ask and the button tradition from Japanese schools.
The anon ask went like this: First at all, I like do much your writing and I hope you are doing well. Second, I was wondering what would happen if the MC (Fem!s/o I guess) decided to not go back to her world, like she decide stay with her villain? Can you do make headcanons of this for the dorm leaders? Thank you very much. – from Anonymous
The button tradition, as narrated by the first years, is done when one person confesses and the other responds by giving them the button closest to their heart. In most Japanese uniforms it’s the second uniform, but in Twisted Wonderland--I looked at the ceremonial robes and the closest button should be the fifth. Maybe. I could be wrong.
The songs I listened to while writing this!
The original dorm leaders (and Rook) was written while listening to “Lucky Ending”, the ending theme of Fruits Basket. The English lyrics (translated by otenkiame!) are:
“Change is important. I want to do it well,/ but I wanna cry. It's still bad. I wanna cry”
“The word "goodbye" has disappeared completely
from this world/ All that remains is me fooling around next to you/A day you don't laugh won't come anymore”
“I've understood it since being here/ These feelings of wanting to protect you aren't a misunderstanding/ If we can call what connects us bonds,/ everything changes/ everybody changes/ Even if in a different world, it'll never be different/ everything changes/ everybody changes/ Don't change, ever/ Stay here, stay here”
I think it’s obvious why I chose to use this as the title of the series. It’s a story about change but it’s also a story about the things you don’t want to change... And I think it’s not wrong to want to hold onto things.
I also listened to the same playlist that I listened to while writing “wendy?” “hello peter pan”:
“Can’t help falling in love” cover by Annapantsu, “If you’re not the one” by David Beddingfield, “Who Knew” by P!nk and “All Too Well” by Taylor Swift.
For Lilia in particular, I was listening to three Beauty and the Beast songs on loop. “Evermore” by Josh Groban, “Days in the Sun” by the live action cast and, of course--”How does a moment last forever” by Celine Dion.
“How does a moment last forever?/ How can a story never die?/ It is love we must hold onto/ Never easy, but we try/ Sometimes our happiness is captured/ Somehow, our time and place stand still/ Love lives on inside our hearts and always will”
Also for Lilia, Tolerate It by Taylor Swift.
“You're so much older and wiser and I/ I wait by the door like I'm just a kid”
“I made you my temple, my mural, my sky/Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life”
Malleus was definitely the first piece finished. Closely followed by Vil’s. I believe there was a gap inbetween them before I did the others? I wrote bits and pieces of Leona, Idia, Kalim and Azul’s. I think I finished Leona, Idia, Kalim then Riddle because I distinctly remember saving Azul for last.
One of the most important things for me, is that each story stands distinct of each other. So I gave myself a really hard time trying to figure out how each one uniquely belonged to each of the characters.
For the Prologue... I think because it’s set at the graduation of certain characters, I used that to my advantage and implied the stronger bonds between the Yuu!Reader and the entirety of the cast. Because a lot of time has passed and I feel like--regardless of what other people believe, bonds will be made and relationships will have strengthened enough for it to happen.
Riddle is honestly another really difficult character for me to write. I generally do love him and I enjoy his story, but something about him is difficult and I’m not sure why.
I think a part of me is also really miffed because from Heartslabyul-Savanaclaw, you could feel that Riddle really cared for Yuu on some level but then he just straight up disappears come Octavinelle chapter. I feel like there was potential to develop their relationship even more.
He WENT UP AND TIED YOUR RIBBON I REMEMBER I WENT DOKI DOKI OVER THAT.
I feel like because I’ve established that it’s a Yuu!Reader, it’s impossible for this story to not include both Ace and Deuce. So of course they featured in really big roles for this one, being responsible for telling Riddle the story.
I have to thank my friend, Mes, for bouncing ideas with me. They were the one who suggested what I could do with Riddle’s story by having ADeuce play such a big part!
I also tried my hardest to include Trey and Cater, and I’m pretty happy with their cameo. In a way, they definitely helped Riddle figure out his own feelings for you.
My favourite lines are: “I think you earned that much. I don’t believe anyone’s ever been in your situation before so—there’s no right or wrong about what you’re doing. It’s all about what you want to do.”
I wish someone would tell this to Yuu in general though. They’re the only one who has ever been in their situation (to our knowledge at least) and like... they’re definitely allowed to be even more selfish.
Leona is someone who I used to dislike a lot. I never hid that. It’s primarily because of how disappointed I am in the story of Savanaclaw probably. But like, I was always concerned about writing him properly because I thought that it was only right that I did right by him, because there would be people reading these stories who loved him. And I felt like I had to do right by that love.
I think... it’s wrong to believe that characters... villains... cannot fall in love or “won’t fall in love.” I think it’s wrong also to think that “people don’t change for love.”
In fact, people do change. You definitely shouldn’t change yourself to be loved, but... people change all the time to be their “better” selves. So whose to say that a good person, who you love, will not make you want to improve yourself? Isn’t that what we want when we meet people? To fall in love with someone who will ultimately make you better and never worse.
Or so that’s how I try to write the Twisted characters when they fall in love... With an understanding that “morally” the person they are falling for is “kind” and “good” and how a part of them might just want to be better just for that person. (Especially Leona and Azul). They don’t necessarily have to be nice to everyone, but if they can be better for one person... We stan healthy character growth.
But yeah, Leona is driven by understanding that he’s a very selfish person. But that he’s also very unfortunate and he doesn’t want tie you with someone who, he thinks, is actually worthless. He probably, deeply, thinks you deserve more.
Though his selfishness eventually wins out and well... Won’t you forgive him for it? :) For tying you down to this worthless second prince?
I think his own self-awareness does make him try harder. Not for everyone or everything... but for you. Just for you. I think that would be Leona’s love language--spending time with you, trying for you.
He’d appreciate if you didn’t call him out on it though, that would be very embarrassing.
Looking back, I’m surprised that it was the only version where none of the other boys from his dorm showed up lol. Which means Ruggie is the sole character who has yet to appear in the “lucky ending” series, huh.
My favourite lines from his story that still leaves me breathless and patting my past self in the back: ““I’m home—” you said—even if a part of you felt that home should have been two green eyes, a cocky smirk, and a warm patch of sunlight on the grassy ground.”
Like honestly, what was I on? Who was she?
Azul is, like Leona, someone who is so keenly aware of the things he’s lacking. In fact, he’s someone who thinks he’s lacking when he’s probably perfect in some aspects. He might act proud but a part of him--I think--thinks its not enough. It’s never enough. He can certainly do better still.
In that light, it’s why he thinks he’s undeserving of a partner. Especially one who is “kind” and “understanding.” While ultimately, Azul deserves people in his life who are that and “accepting” of him--I think he still thinks he doesn’t.
And thats why he lets go of the Yuu!Reader. It’s why he doesn’t “chase” after her like Leona did.
It’s because he’s selfish, because he wants her--that he forces himself to let go.
Azul needs someone who’ll tell him that he is worth something and that he’s definitely worth the effort. So please praise him a lot until he’s crying in happiness. I’m sure it’s the one thing he’s always wanted to hear from people around him.
Also my Poly!Octavinelle Agenda has never died and I am pleased Past!Ai got away with so much Poly!Octa hints in this story lol. But honestly, regardless of wht Octavinelle says... god, you can tell they genuinely care about each other.
I recently rewatched Octavinelle’s chapter and... by god, the amount of things I missed out on first watch. Jade’s concern when he realized Azul wanted to get rid of that photo... The fact Floyd was so willing to drop the fight to return to Azul too... Anyways, Poly!Octa Agenda for life.
Favourite lines: “Azul’s pathetic whimpers turned into guttural sobs. His fingers spread to cover his eyes—and his glasses slid off his face, down to his lap and then to the ground—at his actions. His whole body shook as he cried his heart out.”
It’s not as poetic as a lot of my other favourites, but for some reason these lines always get me when I reread them. There’s something so visceral about it.
Azul’s piece is probably the least visually stimulating out of all these stories? His was so emotionally driven compared to the others and I worried a lot about that.
I think I remember I was crying so badly as I was writing this.
Kalim is really hard for me because I feel like I struggle a lot with finding conflict in his character? He’s such a genuinely nice person, I find it hard to believe that the Yuu!Reader would feel alienated from him or something. So I brought in “environment” to get in the way.
My use of celestial imagery for Kalim is because of the Scarabia trailer! I really loved how it put Kalim as the sun and Jamil as the moon. I definitely will take advantage of that when I get around to writing for Jamil.
So because I wanted to use the sun, I chose to use the idea of comets for Kalim? I think I remember something about how meteors are drawn to the gravitation pull of the sun and can “escape” it or “be destroyed” by it. Haha, hot.
Jamil is someone who ultimately cares about Kalim too and I had fun writing his banter with the Yuu!Reader. I think I wanted to decribe the shadows licking his face reminscent to the marks from his Overblot but... I felt like doing that would give Jamil too much focus so I ultimately decided against it.
It would’ve been hot though.
Oh yes, one thing I wanted to talk about is Kalim’s rushed proposal. I remember people talking about it in the tags, comments... even in asks at that time. The reason he does it is because he’s someone who didn’t realize his feelings until you spelled out your own. It was a sort of: “Oh. Right. That is the word I’d use to describe my feelings.”
My favourite lines from his story is: “How does one bid goodbye to the sun?” and “No one ever willingly bids goodbye to the sun.They spend the rest of their lives trying to find the right way back to it.”
My god, who was this genius.
Vil is probably the most visually stunning out of all these stories. I feel like my stories go from super vivid imagery and setting to just complete emotional disasters lol. (Vil being the former and Azul’s being the latter... not that it’s bad, it actually suits the characters).
Oh man, I remember thinking that Vil is such a hard character to write because we don’t know what his motivation for perfection is. All we knows is that he wants to be the best but, why?
It’s like, for example, Idia. His motivations could be otaku-related. He doesn’t want to go to class because he’d rather go play or something. That sounds in character--but Vil was so hard because he wanted perfection.
But we already see him as such a perfect character, so what else did he need to be even more perfect? In that light, Chapter 5 did a really good job on presenting Vil’s motivations.
But honestly, I think I can comfortably say that the Vil I’ve written so far is pretty accurate? To his character. I’m really grateful I read his chat lines because his comment about intelligence really got me thinking about his possible motivations. It made it really easy to understand that Vil wasn’t like majority of the real world’s influencers.
One other thing that I was really happy about with his story is the use of the flower language. It’s something I hope I can use more because it’s so beautiful.
Oh! And the roses the Yuu!Reader talks about are double delight roses. They are specifically bred to have two colors--yellow in the center and pink on the outside. I thought it fitting that the Yuu!Reader breed special roses for Vil.
They can be called... err... Vil Roses?
My favourite lines from his story is: ““My happiness will not be dictated by others—no, Vil Schoenheit is a person who will grasp happiness with his own hands.” [...] “I’m giving you this button because I’ve already found happiness by your side.””
This line was actually inspired by Zelda C.W.’s MYth series. Specifically Hera’s story, Will.
Idia ...for him, I somehow had a very hard time imagining him trying to tell the reader to stay. Like that didn’t compute for me? I felt like his version was better approached in a more comedic light somehow.
I also felt that it would be cuter if the Yuu!Reader had already chosen to stay and Idia would need to hastily retrack his confession... Unfortunately, Yuu!Reader won’t let him.
Honestly looking back on it, I wonder how much of Chapter 6 is going to make me scream and want to rewrite Idia’s part?
My favourite lines from his story is: “He was never particularly good at lying—nor was he good at keeping secrets from you. You were a person he considered a dear friend—and he was always the type of person who ended up spilling everything to you. He liked being able to talk about the things he enjoyed—he liked that he had found someone who wanted to hear him out.”
A lot of my interpretation for Idia is closely linked to personal experience as an anime, manga and gaming fan. It was just a couple of years ago where people would actually be bullied for liking these things--but nowadays its become a norm. It’s... stunning actually but it makes me happy to know that maybe nobody will be judged for loving anime.
That being said, Idia’s longing to find someone he can talk to is something I really relate too--back then, it was so difficult to find someone to talk to about my interests... So I interpreted Idia as much the same. That what he enjoys about the Yuu!Reader is their ability to simply sit and listen to him talk.
Malleus... man, recently I’ve been starting to fall in love with him all over again. He was my first oshi ever... Anyways, moving on. You think I’ve talked enough about immortal x mortal but nope, we are not done. I love this theme in general, romantic or platonic.
I will never shut up about it you can’t make me.
Sebek having a good enough friendship with Yuu!Reader is such a delicious concept. Like mutual respect and Sebek understanding that Yuu!Reader gives Malleus a different type of companionship that Sebek, Silver or Lilia couldn’t...
And also, ultimately, Sebek and Yuu!Reader do love Malleus. In different ways, but I like the thought of Sebek respecting that and respecting the Yuu!Reader.
Me realizing just now that Silver joins Ruggie in the: “has never appeared in a lucky ending fic club.”... Sorry Silver, I swear soon. Once we get more content on you.
Celestial themes for Malleus are primarily, again, because he only ever seemed to meet you at night. And I thought it would be wonderful, if you were a bright spark to him.
Favourite lines are definitely: “Oh, bright light… I would prefer to live the rest of your life by your side… rather than spend centuries contemplating what it could have felt… to hold you in my arms.”
I am, always, going to be such a big sucker for the idea of immortals constantly remembering and loving mortals. Always holding them close in their memories, because in that way--their lovers have become immortal with them.
I also like to imagine that he eventually figures out a way to connect your worlds together so you can still talk to your friends and family from that world. He is one of the most powerful magicians around, I’m sure its possible.
Rook was honestly the most difficult piece for me to write because he’s so hard(?) for me to understand. He’s a mess of contradictions honestly and I... guess I’m excited to see what he’ll do come Chapter 6.
I actually rewrote his story so much. I got about 500 words with a different idea/plot in mind before deleting that completely and restarting from scratch.
I feel like Rook is someone who talks big and talks about love without actually knowing what it truly might feel like. He’s someone who doesn’t understand it and ends up mistaking it for his fascination.
Aside from me enjoying inserting other characters from the same dorm as much as possible, I felt that Vil was the perfect person to snap some sense into Rook.
Epel’s appearance there is basically to reflect how much I really hope the first year kids get really close to one another.
Rook is also someone who I think, doesn’t try to explain himself too much. He’s someone who I think talks a lot, but if people don’t understand him then he doesn’t need to be understood? That’s my impression. Lol, when “lucky ending” became a character study.
I also really loved the idea that Rook was fine with people running from him--to him that makes it all the more thrilling. But then you start running away from him and that just ends up making dread pool in his stomach.
My favourite lines from his story: “‘When something ends, it must be sad. So, tell me then, how an ending could be so beautiful?’ [...] .‘But there was one ending that was beautiful, non?’ [...] ‘That’s right. ‘They lived happily ever after’—are those not the words that define a beautiful ending?’”
I used the dusk metaphor for Rook. My idea is that he starts seeing dusk as an ending and how he can’t fathom how any “ending” is beautiful. When a story ends, it’s not beautiful to him, humu. But when that ending is the happily ever after then... That makes all the difference.
Lilia was actually easier than Rook’s but also fairly difficult. I had written the middle of Lilia’s piece while stumped on Rook’s actually. Lilia’s was probably easier because I love the idea of immortals and mortals.
I don’t really like the idea of mortals becoming immortals. Like, yes, it’s certainly sweet and spending eternity with a one true love is definitely the best possible ending but... I think there’s so much weight in an immortal choosing to love a mortal while knowing that they will ultimately lose them.
The biggest theme for Lilia is definitely time.
Thinking about it now... There’s been a lot of things in real life that’s just... Made me think about how we have less time than we actually think we have. And I think I ended up channeling that through Lilia... Though I feel like it is ultimately things Lilia would think about though.
The most important imagery would probably be the stars.
I honestly wanted to avoid it because I used celestial imagery for both Kalim and Malleus but the words just flowed out in a way that I felt that I couldn’t replace. So I went with it.
Lilia is no stranger to loneliness. One of the reasons he feels less alone is because he has family now and he doesn’t want to rob you of that. Family is so important to him because they are people who are meant to be with you--they are people who will make you less lonely--or so thats how I think? he thinks.
My favourite lines from his story: “He would relish in the way—You made the world pause. You made a moment extend into an eternity. You made an immortal crave just a little more time.”
I’m so immensely proud of this one? I don’t really have much else to say. There’s something so raw about it that I love. Also the part where it continues on to say that “Because there is never enough time.”
Me realizing my extra notes is just half me simping over these characters, half sharing headcanons, have actually giving good advice? perspective?, half song lyrics, half character study/analysis?
“lucky ending” is about change. Whether we want them to happen or not it’s... the human condition to change. For better or worse, we change--day by day. I think we all operate under a small panic about how everyday things are changing...
But “lucky ending” is also about the things that don’t change. Won’t change. Will never change. The things worth holding onto, the thing worth fighting for... or so I’d like to think.
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Nights in the City
Switch AU
A JSE Fanfic
Almost forgot to queue this, oops. Luckily I remembered just in time :) Anyway, this is a chapter about Schneep, because I feel like we should give him more attention in this AU. I mean, he’s a cool badass superhero, and we haven’t seen that much superhero-ing so far! So, here’s a short chapter about what that usually entails for him, with some cameos from the boys and some background characters. Enjoy :)
More of this AU found here
When most people lied about calling in sick to work, they were planning on doing something fun with their free time. But when Schneep lied about being sick, it was because he’d heard that there were some shady dealings going down on the north side of town that morning, and he had to be there to hear the information. Truly, the life of a vigilante was a glamorous one.
At least he’d had an extra-large cup of coffee that morning to make up for it. That would keep him alert as he waited on a rooftop ledge for said shady people to show up. This would be a terrible place to lose his balance. But it was the best hiding spot in the area, partially covered by a decorative stone outcropping while still being within earshot of the street below. It was a cloudy day, and not a lot of people were out and about. Which is why, when two people walked up to each other and sat down on a bench outside the building where Schneep was hiding, he paid extra close attention.
Luckily, there wasn’t too much wind or other background noise. He managed to get the gist of what these two were talking about. They were using a lot of the common code words that criminals in the city had developed. And he was familiar enough with that code to figure out they were talking about smuggling some firearms into the city. They mentioned the west edge more than once, referencing some common location that he wasn’t familiar with. And then they left.
Schneep frowned under his mask. It wasn’t a lot to go off of...but he didn’t mind. It would be nice to distract himself with a normal criminal case. To take his mind off all the stressful supernatural shit they’d been going through for the past months. And as a distraction, it was working. As he carefully slid off the roof ledge and onto a windowsill below, he was already running through the crime hotspots he knew about in the west side of the city.
Now that he was grabbing onto the windowsill below, he was about twenty feet above ground, so he dropped off the building altogether. With the ease of years of practice, he landed on his feet, letting his specially designed boots absorb the shock of the fall. Great. Now all he had to do was go home and spend the rest of the day narrowing down locations.
But as he turned to leave, Schneep paused. There was a car parked down the street, on the opposite side. Not unusual, but...it had been parked there when he arrived to eavesdrop on the criminals’ conversation. An hour ago. And again, not too unusual, but...it just didn’t look like the kind of car that would be common in this area. It was too new and clean.
Wary, Schneep looked away from it. After a moment’s hesitation, he started to walk down the street away from the car, remaining on edge and listening for anything odd.
Sure enough, as soon as he started to walk away, he heard the sound of a car starting and pulling onto the road. Going slow. Approaching. He sped up a bit, glancing around for alternate routes.
After only a minute, the car was driving alongside him. He glanced over at it just as the window rolled down. A voice shouted, “Hey!”
And Schneep immediately turned and ran into a gap between the buildings. “Hey wait!” The voice shouted, and he heard the car stop, but he didn’t slow down. There was a fire escape up ahead with a ladder, pulled up so the end was about six and a half feet off the ground. He jumped, catching onto the bottom rung, and started climbing. There were more shouts on the ground below. He didn’t pay attention to what they were saying. Instead, once he reached the first landing of the fire escape, he pushed open the window and ducked inside the—fortunately—abandoned building.
He quickly found the staircase and climbed up until he reached the roof access. Once up there, he glanced around and noticed that this building was fairly close to one of the ones next to it. So without hesitation, he jumped across the gap and onto the next building’s roof. Only then did he pause, and look over the edge to the street below.
The building was about five stories tall. Short enough that he could see a figure on the sidewalk below, tall enough to make it difficult to tell who they were. Luckily, he didn’t have to. He’d gotten a pretty good look of her when she rolled down the car window earlier. It was that detective, Kikelomo. The one who’d been working on Jackie’s disappearance, and later, the kids’ as well. And...the detective he’d ran into when he’d snuck into the police station a month ago.
“Scheiße,” Schneep cursed. He’d half-hoped that she’d forgotten about seeing him, but apparently not. And apparently she’d managed to put together that the stranger from that day was him...or, more accurately, was his ‘hero identity,’ Von Voltage. It wasn’t surprising. After all, he’d zapped a couple people when getting away. Probably a big no-no to zap people working for the police, but he’d been more concerned with leaving as fast as possible.
Was she looking for him? She must have been, but how did she find him? Silently, Schneep watched as she walked out to her car—which she parked in the middle of the street when she got out to chase him, that was a bit of a dick move—and climbed into the driver’s side, soon speeding off. He waited until the car was out of sight before leaving.
———————
A while later, Schneep arrived at Marvin and Jameson’s house, still in his super suit. He’d been careful not to be seen while running here, just in case Kikelomo was still trailing him without him knowing. But by the time he reached their street, he was pretty sure she was gone. This neighborhood wasn’t too busy, any activity was noteworthy. But he didn’t see anything strange. And JJ’s car was still in his driveway, so at least one of them was home.
Letting himself relax a bit, Schneep hurried to their front door, pulling his mask off as soon as he reached the doorstep. Without knocking, he opened the door, calling out, “Hello? Who is home?” And then he froze.
Normally, the front hall of the town house was empty. But not today. And the person he ran into wasn’t Marvin or JJ. It was Jack. Leaning against the wall by the kitchen entrance, Sam on his shoulder, looking at his phone. But he looked up at the sound of Schneep’s voice. And slowly, took in the outfit he was wearing. “Well that would explain some things,” he muttered, looking down at Sam. “Wouldn’t it?” They nodded.
“I—I—uh—you—it’s—ah—” Schneep stammered for a few seconds before clearing his throat. “What are you doing here?” he asked, slowly closing the front door behind him.
“JJ called me. There’s...um...a situation.” Jack gestured towards the kitchen entrance. Now that Schneep was getting over the shock of running into a stranger, he could hear someone’s voice coming from the room. “Apparently everyone else was busy.”
Schneep frowned. “Excuse me.” He walked past Jack and peered into the kitchen.
The voice that Schneep could hear was Marvin’s. He was arguing loudly with JJ. But Schneep could tell that wasn’t the ‘situation’ Jack was referring to. No, the ‘situation’ probably had to do with the fact that Marvin was pale as a sheet and sweating, even as he continued to argue. JJ wasn’t arguing back because his hands were busy helping keep Marvin upright, arms wrapped around his torso. Marvin clearly didn’t have the energy to stand on his own, and was holding onto JJ’s shirt tightly, even as he continued to protest.
“—not worth th’ trouble, it’s all fine,” Marvin was saying. “Y’can just go on and stop fuckin’ worryin’ about me. I can handle t’is, ‘ve done it a million times.”
JJ frowned, and didn’t say anything. Oddly enough, he was wearing his mask today, usually he only wore that for performances. He glanced over towards the door that connected the kitchen and the dining room. A red-haired woman was standing there, but at his look, she said, “Right, right,” and stepped aside. Immediately, JJ started dragging Marvin to the dining room.
“Hey! No! Drop it, Jems!” Marvin hit him weakly in the shoulder. “I don’ need to sit down.”
JJ just looked at him doubtfully.
Schneep felt this was a good moment to interject. “Ah, am I interrupting something?”
The two of them looked over at him. “Henrik! Tell him ‘m fine!” Marvin said.
“Sorry, I cannot do that,” Schneep said. “I would hate to lie to my friends.”
“Wha...?” Marvin groaned. “Alrigh’ fffffine, I’ll go...go sit at the table.” JJ looked relieved, and helped him over to the dining room, gesturing for Schneep to join them.
Nodding, Schneep retreated back into the hallway, circling around to the dining room. Jack, having heard most of that exchange, followed him.
Over in the dining room, Marvin had taken a seat at the table, leaning forward. He looked like he wanted to put his head down on the surface, but was barely resisting the urge. JJ was standing next to him, and the redheaded woman was standing off to the side. Upon seeing her, Schneep tried to retreat, again remembering that he was still wearing his super suit. Unfortunately, she caught sight of him before he could back out of the room. She gave him a friendly smile and waved.
“So...what is happening?” Schneep asked slowly.
JJ started to explain in sign language. I have rehearsal today. The first one since the...voice accident. So I really need to go. But Marvin got sick this morning and I didn’t want to leave him alone, because of how he is. But he’s insisting I go anyway and I didn’t need to call anyone to watch him, because he’s fine. A lot of the words were finger-spelled, slowing down the speech, but he was starting to get the hang of it. Nowadays he signed more frequently than he wrote.
“I see.” Schneep nodded wisely. A rehearsal, that would explain why JJ was wearing his mask. “And so you called these two to help?” He indicated Jack and the redheaded woman.
I called Jack, Jameson said, finger-spelling the name. Because Jackie’s at work, and Anti’s busy recording today, and I thought you were at work, too. I thought Jack could help, if it wasn’t a bother.
“Oh, it’s no problem,” Jack said. “I was happy to come over and hang out. There’s just the bonus matter of making sure Marvin doesn’t kill himself.”
“I know what ‘m doin’,” Marvin grumbled.
You do, you just decide to cause problems on purpose, JJ rebutted.
“Okay,” Schneep said, mentally filing away the fact that Jack knew BSL. He turned to the redheaded woman. “And you are...?”
“I’m Aoife,” the woman said. “A friend of Jameson’s. He invited me to watch his rehearsal, since apparently he likes to have someone in the audience usually and Marvin wasn’t up for it. But I don’t know how to get to the theatre where he’s rehearsing, so I thought I’d stop by to ask Jameson if he could drive me. When I walked in, these two were faffing about.”
“No, Jems was faffing, I wasn’,” Marvin protested.
“Everyone is Irish,” Schneep muttered. “Dare I ask what that means?”
I understand it means ‘wasting time,’ basically, Jameson said.
“An’ you were def’nitely wasting time,” Marvin added. “Ye’ll be late at...at t’is rate.”
I’d be okay with that, as long as someone’s here to make sure you don’t do anything to tire yourself out.
“Stop worryin’ ‘bout me, you always...ye always worry ‘bout others. Be concerned with yourself, for once. Spreading too thin, stop.” Marvin’s words were starting to slur together.
“Well, ah, I was stopping by to ask if I could stay for a while,” Schneep asked. “So...I could stay and help out.”
Would you? Jameson asked.
“Of course.”
“Ye jus’ poppin’ in to check on us?” Marvin grinned a bit. “Real swell o’you.”
“That, and...ah...” Schneep awkwardly looked down at his costume. “I was out, and I didn’t—I-I wasn’t ready to go home yet. Not that there is any danger, I just...for me.” Even though he was sure Detective Kikelomo hadn’t followed him here, there was a lingering sense of paranoia that wouldn’t leave him alone.
It’s fine, Henrik, Jameson said. Jack, do you want to stay?
“If everyone’s fine with it,” Jack said cheerfully.
Marvin muttered something under his breath, finally laying his head down on the table. He appeared to have given up on getting JJ to not worry about him.
That would be so helpful, thank you both. JJ sighed. He shook Marvin’s shoulder, getting his attention. Call me if you need anything. And please, actually take the medicine this time?
“Sure, Jems,” Marvin said softly. “I promise. Now get out o’here.”
JJ nodded, and headed out, gesturing for Aoife to follow him. I’ll see all of you this afternoon. Five at the latest.
“Have fun, Jameson,” Schneep said. “Do lots of mag—oof!”
“Oh, sorry!” Aoife had bumped into him as she walked past to leave the room. She gave him a smile. “I didn’t mean it, I was trying to be quiet.”
“Is fine, do not worry,” Schneep assured her.
“Great. Oh, and if you find it, don’t get rid of it, will you?” Before Schneep could ask what she meant, she breezed past him and followed JJ out of the door.
Schneep was quiet for a moment, staring after her. Then he turned back to Jack and Marvin. “Do you two know what she meant?”
Marvin paused. “No, but I do know somet’ing. Aoife, she’s...she’s Jems’s magician friend. Works for whatever magic...place there is out there. For magicians. An’ she’s told him that she...her specialty is divination. So it’s probably important.”
Schneep blinked. “Divination? Like...seeing the future?” He couldn’t hide the skeptical tone in his voice.
“It’s not so weird,” Jack said. “Like, Sam gets feelings that they should go do something. That’s how they met all of you. I think that’s a form of divination, if just a minor bit of it.” Sam jumped in agreement.
“Well...alright.” Schneep decided to put that aside for now. “Ah, Marvin. Were you doing anything in particular that made Jems think he should call someone?”
Marvin hesitated. “I was tryin’ t’make tea,” he finally mumbled.
“Oh, tea. That sounds like a good idea,” Schneep said. “I will go make some, then.”
“...t’ank you.”
“No problem at all.” And Schneep headed back into the kitchen, determined to forget about the detective who was looking for him.
———————
The next few days passed uneventfully. Schneep would spend his nights scouting out locations, looking for a place that could fit the area the two criminals were referring to. They mentioned this arms deal going down a week from then, so he had that much time to narrow down where it could be taking place. He settled on three possible locations in the western part of the city that could fit, and decided to check each of them when the day came.
Said day arrived quickly, and it dawned rainy. That was annoying. And cold, because of course it was, it was practically winter by this point. His suit was insulated, but he still felt the chill. He could’ve just let it go, but he didn’t become a notorious vigilante by giving up. So he found himself running about in the rain for hours, tracking down the locations.
The first two were busts, no suspicious activity there. But as they say, the third time was the charm. Schneep arrived at an old electronics shop just as the sun was starting to go down on the dark rainy day. The sign out front said it was closed, but the lights were on inside. Not too unusual. Except for the fact that he’d suspected this place was some sort of front for a while.
Schneep waited in the shadows across the street, making sure the glowing parts of his costume were turned off, and watched the shop. He’d brought along a pair of binoculars for the scouting that day, and kept an eye on the front and side entrances. It was a few minutes before he caught sight of movement near the side. People. He couldn’t make out the details, but someone appeared in the front window to close the blinds. Maybe nothing. Or maybe...
It warranted further investigation. Schneep slipped the binoculars into a backpack, which he left tucked into a space in the wall caused by missing bricks, and hurried across the street to the shop. There weren’t many alternative entrances to this place. He’d checked. The closest thing was a window in the back, so he circled around the building to reach it. The window was high in the wall, but there were some trash cans in the nearby alley that he pulled over so he could reach it.
Carefully, he peered over the ledge through the window. It was a bit difficult to make out the room at first, since the glass was dirty on the inside and covered in rain on the outside, but he could see a group of people. Eight of them, separated into two groups of four. And wouldn’t you know it? He recognized two of them as the pair he’d overheard last week.
The window was the type that would slide open. So Schneep slid it open an inch, listening for voices over the sound of the rain.
“—just hurry up, neither of us want this to last forever,” one voice was saying.
“Okay, okay. Don’t get your pants in a twist.” There was the sound of cloth rustling. “See? It’s right here.”
“How do we know it’s all there? And real?”
“Well, how do we know you aren’t handing over some shoddy weapons? Or ones that’ll be tracked by the coppers?”
“Just shut up,” a different voice said. “If we keep goin’ this way, we’ll be at a standoff all night. Let’s just exchange goods at the same time, then check them over.”
“Right.”
“That sounds fine to me.”
Just by this snippet of conversation, Schneep figured out that there were two groups in this exchange, and they had some trust issues with each other. Great, that would mean he’d be fighting two groups of four instead of one unified group of eight. Hopefully, some of them would try to run or attack the other group when he jumped in. And speaking of which...this seemed like a good time. When the ‘goods’ were changing hands. Silently, he slid open the window. It opened wide enough for a person. So he grabbed the edge of the windowsill, braced himself, and just as someone inside was saying, “Hey, the window’s open—” he leapt through.
He landed in the center of the room, causing instant confusion and shouting. Quickly, he grabbed the nearest person and zapped them, instantly knocking them unconscious. There was a large crate on a wheeled dolly nearby, so he kicked that towards two others. One jumped out of the way but the other was surprised and easily got knocked over.
“This was a setup!” One of the criminals shouted, pulling out a knife. “You dirty bastards!”
“Don’t pin this on us!” Another yelled, pulling out a knife of her own.
So none of them had firearms. At least, that he could see. And he assumed that the crate had some inside, so that was a factor. He’d have to be—
One of the criminals came charging at him, swiping with a knife. Schneep dodged out of the way, but wasn’t fast enough to avoid the blade grazing across his upper arm. Luckily, it didn’t break through the suit. He grabbed the culprit’s arm with both hands and, with a fair amount of effort, threw them into another criminal who was also running towards him. He let out another burst of electricity from his gloves as he did so, rendering that one unconscious as well. Then he ducked close to the ground, scooping up the knife the criminal dropped in surprise when he threw him, and dodged to the side, avoiding the sudden rush of every other criminal trying to grab him at once.
So that was two down, one temporarily out of commission as he tried to wiggle out from under the body of his friend. The one he’d hit with the crate was standing up, trying to pry open the lid. “Oh no, don’t you dare,” Schneep growled, lunging over towards the crate and grabbing one edge of it. The criminal looked up at him, shocked, then tried to punch him. He ducked, and swung the knife he’d picked up. The criminal ducked in turn, but didn’t notice that Schneep had also lunged forward, other hand coming from the other side and knocking him unconscious with a single hit. Three down.
Two of the remaining ones were now fighting with each other—as he’d predicted—and grappling in the corner. The one who’d been knocked down was standing again, recovering her bearings, and the other two were running at him. Quickly, he decided on a priority: get the crate full of guns out of reach of any of these people before taking them out. So naturally, he pushed it forward again. The two running at him leaped out of the way, clearly not wanting the same thing to happen to them as happened to their friend. Schneep took advantage of their distraction and ran after the crate, grabbing the edge of the dolly and swinging it around so it was facing the room’s door. Then he pushed it out, running after it.
“Hey!” They were shouting after him, but he couldn’t slow down. The crate, being large and heavy, was swiftly gaining momentum as it rolled down the hall. He managed to turn it through the open doorway leading to the front of the shop, but once it was in there, all he could do was aim it for the front entrance.
The crate easily smashed through the double doors and rolled out onto the street, impacting the side of a car—wait, a car?!
A siren started up, and blue lights started to flash through the blinds of the front window. Schneep let out a string of curses under his breath. He could either turn back and try to leave through the window or the side entrance, facing a small group of criminals with knives, or go through the front door and try to avoid who-knows-how-many police officers, none of whom liked him.
He thought about it for a split second before turning and going back into the back of the shop. Luckily, the criminals were also taken by surprise, so he managed to slip by them and out through the side entrance before they could. He started to run, but then paused. He grabbed one of the trash cans that he hadn’t used to get through the back window and pulled it in front of the side door, barring it. Then he started to run, heading towards the opposite end of the alley.
But then a bright yellow light shone into the alleyway. Schneep glanced behind him just long enough to confirm his first thoughts: car headlights. And a voice shouted, “You there!” and he turned and ran. Hopefully the still-falling rain would make it easy for him to lose them.
“Wait! Don’t run again!” Footsteps splashed behind him, but he didn’t stop. He ran until he reached the other end of the alley and emerged onto the opposite street. This side was empty. He glanced left, then right, then turned left and kept running. The footsteps were keeping pace with him, but if he could just get to a ladder or something he could lose them on the rooftops.
One of the streetlamps overhead was out, leaving a patch of shadow on the sidewalk and road. He ran underneath it and looked back towards the person behind—
Slip.
Because of the rain, the broken streetlamp, and that backwards glance, he didn’t see the water pooling on the sidewalk, or notice the curb that marked the corner of the street. One misstep was all it took for him to fall hard onto the street, hitting his head, and everything flashed white before fading to black.
———————
The pain was the first thing Schneep noticed when regaining consciousness. The back of his head felt like his skull had split open. The second thing he noticed was that he was lying on...a seat of some kind. A sofa? Well, it was a hard and unusually small sofa if that was the case. He heard voices as well, or maybe just one, but couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, so he ignored them and opened his eyes. Black spots danced in front of him, a shadowy face faded into his peripheral vision before fading away. Well, that was normal, so he ignored that, too. “Ja, piss off,” he muttered.
“Well, that’s a bit rude.”
That voice...sounded a bit more solid. And as he looked around his surroundings, it reinforced that first impression. He wasn’t lying on a sofa, but in the backseat of a car. Rain dotted the windows, and a light in the ceiling overhead lit up the scene in a yellow-white glow. He glanced towards the direction the voice had come from. And came face to face with Detective Kikelomo, sitting in the front seat of the car, looking around the back of the seat to stare at him.
His heart stopped. He realized he wasn’t wearing his mask anymore. Okay, time to disregard the slight murmurings that he could still hear, this was higher priority. After a moment of staring at her, frozen, he lurched into a sitting position and turned around to try and open the car door. That didn’t work, because first, it was locked, and second, the sudden motion sent a wave of nausea coursing through him. He groaned again, pressing his forehead to the car window and clenching his teeth.
“Be careful,” Kikelomo said. “You were out for a few minutes, and you might have a concussion. I was going to offer to drive you to the hospital after this.”
“Is fine,” Schneep said through gritted teeth. “I can take care of it.” Jackie would be waiting for him back at his apartment anyway. Though he didn’t like the idea of making him worried with a possible concussion, it was probably better to get his opinion first before taking it to a doctor who’d ask questions.
“Take care of it the way you took care of that puddle Rachel said you slipped in?” At this point, Schneep realized there was someone else in the car, in the front passenger seat. A woman, with blonde hair cut to chin-length. “Real nice for some superhero.”
“Shut...up.” Schneep squeezed his eyes shut. God, his head still hurt. But more importantly...“Am I being detained?”
“Well...” Kikelomo picked at the stitching on her leather seat, glanced over at the other woman, then looked back at Schneep. “No. Not exactly.”
That wasn’t what he was expecting. Schneep looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “What do you mean?”
“That wasn’t my plan at all,” Kikelomo said. “Though...I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t considering it. I was going back and forth, but then...well...that note convinced me.”
“Note?” Schneep asked, confused.
The other woman held up a folded piece of paper, a bit wet from the rain but not enough to lose its integrity. “This fell out of your...costume...when we were dragging you into the car. What’s this about, anyway?”
Schneep managed to sit up straight. “May I see that?”
The woman shrugged, and handed it over. He quickly unfolded it. There was a message written on it, in solid, straight handwriting. It read: To Rachel and Lydia. He means you no harm, and is no threat to you. I think you should let him go, because he’s currently dealing with something that your normal police can’t handle. It’d be better for everyone that way. Oh, and swing by that shop on Everett that you’ve been wanting to visit on Saturday :)
He read it a couple times, processing what it said. “I...have no idea what this is,” he finally admitted.
“Really?” Kikelomo said doubtfully.
“Really, I—” Schneep paused. “Oh.” Last week, when he’d gone to Marvin and JJ’s house. That magician friend of JJ’s, Aoife, had bumped into him. She said something weird about not getting rid of something ‘if he found it.’ This must be that something. “I understand now. It got slipped into one of my pockets, I did not even know it was there.”
Kikelomo still looked unsure. “Well...who put it there? And how did they know our first names?”
Schneep shrugged. “Someone who bumped into me. A stranger.” Not technically a lie, he wasn’t familiar with Aoife. But Marvin said she had divination magic. Had she...known this would happen?
“Alright, fine, let’s put that aside for now,” Kikelomo dismissed. “You’re not being detained, but I would like to ask you a few questions.”
“Only if you let me ask you some first,” Schneep insisted. “How did you find me? What are you planning to do? Who is this other person?”
“My name’s Lydia,” the other woman said casually. “I’m her fiancée.”
“Ah. Okay. Then what are you doing here?”
“Helping. This was all her idea, but I thought I’d join in. And good thing I did, someone needed to bring the car around when you knocked yourself the fuck out just a street over from a police raid.”
“That is fair,” Schneep relented.
“Let me start with your first question,” Kikelomo said. “I know you follow a lot of the illicit activity in the city. So, I kept my ears open for any cases going on that you might be interested in. We got a tip that there were some negotiations going on between the Striped Snakes and Monte Blanca, and I thought you might be interested in that. Apparently it was a well-known fact in the underworld. So I just followed along with the investigation.” She paused. “Technically, I’m not supposed to be here,” she admitted.
Schneep took a moment to process this. “So...you were investigating, out on your own, with the possibility of getting in trouble for it...on the chance that you would run into me.”
“...yes,” Kikelomo mumbled.
“Hey, trust me Mr. Voltage Guy, this is the first time she’s done something like this,” Lydia said. She sounded rather upbeat about that fact, almost proud.
“But I knew I had to!” Kikelomo protested. “After you snuck into the records at the police station, it took me a while to realize I’d seen you before. Actually, Rya was the one who remembered. You’re a friend of Dr. Parker, aren’t you?” Schneep hesitated, not willing to answer. But that was enough. “I thought it was strange that you risked going into the station, but once I figured out you were friends with him—he disappeared, didn’t he? And so did his daughter and her friend? It’s an unusual set of circumstances, and since you like to take the law into your own hands, I figured you were trying to do something about it. Aren’t you?”
Schneep rolled his eyes, then winced as that caused a few more black spots to dance before his eyes. He really should get his head looked at soon. “You say that about taking the law into my own hands, but are you not doing the same thing, following me, tagging along on a case that wasn’t yours? Hmm?”
“I...” Kikelomo paused. “This is for my case. It’s my job to find out what happened to your friend and those kids, and if you can help—”
“Well I can’t,” Schneep interrupted.
Kikelomo blinked. “Look...I understand that you...have an operation...here. And I will admit, it does actually help in some circumstances, even if you break a thousand laws on the way. But clearly, whoever is behind this has skill. Not only have they managed to stay hidden this long, but I believe they somehow manipulated your friend’s and the kids’ memories, which is no small feat. In this case, the resources of the police are more qualified to handle this.”
At that, Schneep couldn’t help but burst into laughter. Kikelomo watched, shifting awkwardly in her seat and giving Lydia a few unsure glances. “Maybe I should...rephrase what I said,” Schneep finally said. “You cannot help me. You are not qualified for this. Trust me, I am barely qualified for this. And, quite frankly, you do not want to be involved. I often disagree with the saying ‘ignorance is bliss,’ but I think it applies in this situation.”
Kikelomo was unsure how to respond. She glanced at Lydia, who just shrugged and said, “Remember that note? It said something about the normal police not being able to handle this.”
“Even so, I can’t imagine a situation where you don’t want more hands on deck. Unless this is somehow...I don’t know, if the government is involved or if it’ll cause a scandal. But still, I’d think I’d pick up if this was something like that.”
“No, you wouldn’t. The people who want stuff like that under wraps are very good at keeping it that way.”
“Still.” Kikelomo glanced back over at Schneep, who said nothing. He didn’t care what she thought about this situation, as long as she left it alone. “We could provide protection for your friend—”
“No, you cannot,” Schneep said firmly.
And Kikelomo fell silent again. Then she slowly turned around and started the car. “If we’re not taking you to the hospital, where are we going?”
“Drop me off on the corner of Underhill and Yew,” Schneep said, pulling his mask back on despite knowing it wouldn’t help anymore. “And please stop following me. You are just making me paranoid all the time.”
The car ride that followed was awkward and silent, but luckily, it was soon over, and Schneep stepped out of the car and onto a rainy street. He didn’t move until they were gone, and then he sighed. Well, that was bad. He didn’t want anyone knowing his identity, much less a detective and her girlfriend. But hopefully, they’d drop the matter, and he’d never run into them again.
———————
Unfortunately, those hopes were dashed two days later.
It was getting towards the end of his work shift, and Schneep was ready to leave. Not for any particular reason, he just didn’t have the energy. He’d considered taking the day off for medical purposes by calling in and telling his manager that he’d hit his head a couple days ago and had to stay home. Even if Jackie said that he’d be alright, that would still be reason enough. But he’d decided against it on the grounds that he’d already taken a few days off and risked losing his job if he did it again.
So here he was. Staring at the wall clock in the chance that it’ll go faster if he watched it. Then he heard the familiar sound of the front entrance opening and closing and Jennifer, his coworker, said, “Could you get that? I’m working on the order for the last guys.”
Sighing, he nodded, and headed out to the front counter. “Hello, welcome to Latte Lake, what can I—” Then he stopped. “You are fucking kidding me.”
The pair of customers who’d just walked in were none other than Detective Kikelomo and Lydia. Clearly off-duty, wearing casual street clothes and looking relaxed, but it was them nonetheless. And they looked just as surprised as he did. “Ohhh, that’s why the note said to come here,” Lydia muttered.
“The note—oh.” Schneep took a deep breath as he remembered the last line of the note Aoife had put in his suit. Something about the two of them going to a shop on Everett. The street where Latte Lake, the shop he worked at, was located. That should have rang a few bells when he read it, but there were a lot of shops on the street, and he’d had more pressing matters on his mind. “The next time I see that—that magician, I am going to kill her,” he muttered.
“Sounds like someone really wanted us to continue the conversation, if you ask me,” Kikelomo said, sounding a bit smug.
“Can we not do this now?” Schneep asked. “Do you know how much of a—how bad of an asshole you have to be to do something like this while someone is at work, and cannot leave? An awful one. No. Stop this.”
“Ah...well, sorry,” Kikelomo muttered. “But we didn’t come here intending to do that. We just wanted to check out the cute little cafe.” She paused. “Alright, this is the last thing I’ll say. Are you sure you don’t need our help? I mean, we’re professionals and you’re...well, you’re very good, but it’s different.”
Schneep rubbed his eyes. “Look. I do not say this because I hate you, or any of the pol—the people you work with. I say this because you literally cannot help. You cannot catch Dis—the person behind this. You cannot do anything to him. Anything you can think of will not work. We are...are just...surviving. Avoiding him. We are working on stopping him, but so far, we cannot. And you will not be any better at it. I promise you.”
Kikelomo thought about this. “Who’s ‘we’?”
“I—” Schneep choked. Even letting that slip was too much. “No. Don’t. I am asking you politely, stop talking about this. I can go in the back and just stay there, I am only talking to you out of courtesy. Just...stop. Give it up.”
Lydia nudged Kikelomo. “Hey Rachel? Maybe drop it for now.”
And Kikelomo sighed. “Alright. I’ll drop it for now. But this isn’t over, I can promise you that. I’m a detective. I will figure out what’s going on.”
“And when you do, you will see how right I am,” Schneep said stubbornly. “Now if you will excuse me.” He turned around and called out, “Jennifer? Are you okay with switching?”
“Yeah, sure, Henrik,” Jennifer replied, not noticing the way Schneep winced as she said his name out loud in front of the detective. Silently, he switched places with her, and things went back to normal as Kikelomo and Lydia placed orders, sat down to wait, and then eventually left the shop once their orders were ready.
His shift ended soon after that, and he practically ran out of the door and down towards the bus stop. As he waited for the bus to arrive, he wondered. Should he have told them the truth? It may have been unbelievable, with magicians and a man out of time and a strange gray smiling creature tormenting them all. But maybe he could have convinced them?
No. No, it was just too unbelievable. And he didn’t want to be judged for it, especially when the person doing the judging had the power to do something about it. His situation was just too precarious, being a vigilante in a city where that was illegal. He couldn’t risk a detective having a low opinion of him.
Still, he was sure that this wouldn’t be the last time he’d see Detective Kikelomo. If she was so determined to figure out what was going on...maybe she’d be able to find the truth. And when that happened, Schneep would be happy to accept whatever help she offered. But he wasn’t going to be the one making the first move. He simply couldn’t afford to.
#jacksepticeye#jacksepticeye fanfiction#jacksepticegos#septic egos#jacksepticeye au#septic egos au#dr schneeplestein#brigid writes fanfiction#septicswitchau
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Numbers
Word count: 1790
Cameos: Graham Norton and Daniel Radcliffe (don’t ask why)
Synopsis: Running late to her interview on the Graham Norton show, she arrives wearing a latex dress and having to give a good excuse on why she’s wearing something that’s considered heavily sexual; only one person on the lounge knows the true reason and that’s Henry Cavill.
Original a/n: X
A/N: Let’s see how this one works….might even be a pre-hype for chapter 6 of Uncomfortable . Also, sound note, due to researching bdsm I got hyper curious; I’m an outsider looking in and my knowledge of bdsm is purely from research and not uh...being in..yeah...
Warning: P*RN! (I’m kidding!! Or am I?). Fingering (male giving/female receiving), hand job (female attempting to give/male receiving), daddy/princess/ naughty girl/baby being used.
I’m not sure if this will be a one off or if I’ll keep going….so until than..hopefully enjoy.
For your listening pleasure: Spotify playlist.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome Y/N” Graham Norton said as he stood up.
The two male guests turned their attention to the back entrance of the stage; watching as she walked out.
“I’m so sorry I’m late” She hugged Graham.
“Look at you” Graham wasn’t sure what to think of her in her black thigh length latex dress.
She blushed a little as Graham lead her over to the two other guests. She stepped towards Daniel Radcliffe “Oh my god, hi” She almost squealed as they hugged.
“Hi” Daniel was used to fans eagerly meeting him for the first time.
She stepped back; she was hesitant to interact with him. They were each other’s secret, he was the reason she was dressed like this.
“Hi” She smiled at Henry Cavill.
Henry carefully hugged her “Hi” he tried to hold back his words.
The three of them sat down; Graham looked down at his cue cards.
“So, I have to ask. What’s with the dress?” Graham looked up at her as she tried to get comfortable on the lounge without flashing the world her underwear.
She placed her hands over the skirt half of her dress; She turned her attention to Graham, Henry was intrigued to hear her reason. “Well, it’s part of the reason I was late.”
Henry kept his poker face on as she tried to avoid his gaze.
“Well, a friend of mine had their birthday party. Her theme of the party was leather and latex”
Graham and Daniel’s eyes widened.
Henry attempted to hold his composure. Is that what she’s calling it? He thought to himself.
“The guys had to dress in leather and the girls had to dress in latex. Unfortunately, I also forget about the time it takes to get from the party to here and didn’t have a chance to change clothes. So” She gave an awkward this is what you get shrug.
Henry was surprised to see how calm she was acting with her response. He had realised that she hadn’t looked at him once while she explained.
“How do I get an invite?” Daniel piped up as he tried to control his laughter.
“You just gotta know the right people” Y/N winked at him.
Graham was glad he didn’t have his wine in his hand as he heard that answer.
Henry noticed her little side eye glance at him as she turned her attention to the audience in front of her.
“I have no shame in what I do in the comfort of my own home” She smirked as members in the audience started to cheer.
Henry studied her carefully as she picked up her glass of water.
“Right” Graham was lost for words as he looked down at his cue cards.
# # #
“And that’s all for tonight, join me next week when we sit down with Ralph Fiennes, Gary Oldman and David Tennant.” Graham spoke to the cameras before turning his attention to the guests on the lounge.
She was bright red from laughing all night; her first experience on the graham Norton show and it was the best interview she had, it helped that she had Henry Cavill and Daniel Radcliffe to bounce off with their energy including Graham Norton who kept digging at the right questions while keeping his guests in line.
The three guests stood up and walked backstage where staff for the show began to unmic them.
“It was absolutely lovely meeting you, Daniel” She said to him; she couldn’t believe that she had a chance to finally meet her childhood crush.
“Lovely to meet you as well Y/N” Daniel smiled “Did you want that photo now?”
“Oh, yes please” she bounced on the balls of her heels; Henry carefully watched her. She had only interacted with him when she had to, when the cameras were rolling, and he had noticed. “Thank you” she said to the person who finished unmic-ing her.
Her assistant pulled Y/N’s phone out of her bag “Smile” she said to Y/N and Daniel as they stood together. Kel took two photos.
“Again, thank you so much Daniel” she beamed.
“You’re welcome, hope I get to see you around again.” Daniel bid goodbye to everyone in the room as he and his assistant left the green room.
It just left Henry, Leah; his assistant, Kel and Y/N.
“I just have to run to the bathroom than we’re good to go” She said to Kel.
Henry was surprised to see how well Y/N was doing by ignoring him.
“It was lovely to see you Mr Cavill” She looked at Henry; she had broken his surprise.
“Likewise, Y/N.” Henry smirked. The four of them knew, they all knew but only two of them knew more than the other two.
“Right. Bathroom.” She spoke out loud to herself as she exited the green room and down the halls to find the toilets.
- - -
“Just be a moment” she called out when she heard a knock on the door. She was thankfully her underwear wasn’t latex. She began to turn on the taps when she heard the knock on the door again, this time it sounded impatient.
She gritted her teeth as the knocking continue; she unlocked the door and stood in surprise.
Henry pushed her back into the cubicle, he locked the door behind him.
“Latex and leather party, huh?” His hot breath squashed against her face.
She nodded slightly.
He used one hand to keep her pushed up against the wall of the cubicle while his other hand began to run up her thigh “And ignoring me all night? I thought you’d know better than to ignore me.”
Her hands ran down the front of his jacket “and I thought you knew better than to make me late.” She titled her head up slightly as she watched his poker face.
His hand stopped at the bikini line of her underwear “I can make you however late I like.”
Her hands moved down to his belt.
“Did I say you could touch my belt?” He breathed.
She nodded slightly.
“I don’t think so” The hand that was holding her against the wall moved down to her hands, pushing her hands away. While his hand in between her thighs began to trace the outside of her underwear. “You teased me all afternoon, now it’s mine turn.”
“Teasing? Is that what you call it? I call it being professional” She moved her hands back to his belt.
“Professional?”
She could feel his thumb softly stroking the centre of her underwear; she could feel what he was doing. She kept her attention on him as her hands fumbled with his belt buckle. He wasn’t stopping her this time. She wrapped one of her hands around his flaccid kraken; she watched as he shook his head, she bit down on her lower lip as she pouted slightly.
Henry began to move his index finger inside of her underwear; their eyes locked onto each other. Her hand still around his kraken, she hadn’t done anything, but she knew what she was doing. She could feel his index finger making a come here motion in between her legs.
She parted her lips slightly as she began to moan.
“Shh…”He hushed her; she leant forward, leaning on his shoulder trying to conceal her moans in the collar of his shirt.
She felt his index finger stroke faster; She tried to stroke his kraken, but Henry was distracting her with just one finger that she couldn’t keep her focus on him.
She carefully bit down on the collar of his jacket as Henry hit the right nerves inside of her; she wanted to scream out. She wanted to be loud; she could feel Henry’s upper body move as he began to laugh.
“Not...” She moaned “Fu…” she couldn’t finish the word funny as Henry moved his index finger out of her underwear “Nny.” She kissed his neck.
“Did I say you could kiss me?” Henry sounded strict.
“Yes” She nibbled at his ear.
“Naughty girl” Henry laughed a little; he used his other hand to push her away “Now it’s your turn to wait.”
She pouted “but I don’t want to.”
Henry brought his index finger up to his lips; he placed it in his mouth tasting her over his finger “You know the rules. Every time you ignore me...”
“Baby has to wait her turn” she finished his sentence.
Henry nodded before moving his hands to put himself back into his pants.
She crossed her arms against her chest as she pouted.
“You started it, I’m going to finish it.” Henry unlocked the cubicle door “Now don’t you have somewhere to be.”
She sighed as she gave him puppy dog eyes.
“Your not Kal, this won’t work on me.” Henry went back to his poker face.
“But I know what will.” She chewed down on her lower lip.
Henry rolled his eyes “Now, princess. Your assistant will send a search party if your in here for too long.” He gently moved Y/N out of the cubicle.
She adjusted the bottom of her dress and her underwear as Henry washed his hands. Henry looked up in the mirror’s reflection watching as she left him alone in the bathroom without a word being said.
She saw Kel standing in the reception “Sorry, I got lost” she lied.
“Lost, is that what we’re calling it?” Kel remarked.
“Yes” She swiftly responded.
“How the two of you have managed to keep things private is behind Leah and I” Kel mentioned as she lead Y/N out of the studio building and to their awaiting car.
They both got into the backseat of the awaiting car; Kel heard a phone notification as they buckled into the backseat, she searched her bag and pulled out two phones. One was hers and the other was Y/N’s. Kel reached Y/N’s phone towards her.
Y/N took the phone and tapped her screen seeing a new message, she tapped it open.
10.
She knew what it meant, it meant that he wanted her home in 10 minutes; She looked at Kel “Are we going straight home?”
Kel looked down at her phone, checking the schedule in her phone “You have one more interview to pop to than you can head home.”
She leaned her head back on the headrest of the back seat “Okay” she moved her attention back to her phone. She flicked through her emojis and sent a halo faced emoji.
It was Henry and Y/N’s code for sorry to disappoint but you have to wait.
Henry sent back an instant message with a devil faced emoji.
It was Henry and Y/N’s code for your in for a hell of a time when we are together again.
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GF - How A Star Is Born ch.XI
A Hercules AU, founded by @evaroze, whom this fic is a gift for. This is the last chapter, so I truly hope you all enjoyed this fun AU, and thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support!
(Also, a small cameo for @lemonfodrizzleart is in here, so I hope you enjoy!)
ch.X
AO3 link
~~~~~~~~~~
Stan could feel the familiar pressure on his chest when Dipper and Mabel defeated the monster. He did everything he could to keep it at bay until the kids left; they would have stayed, and Bill would have won. Ford might get hurt, so Stan made sure they didn’t know and that they left him.
The second they were gone a powerful wave of pain flared his chest and he sank. Pacifica helped him lie down comfortably against some smooth boulders, unsure if it was safe to move him, and held his hand as he had to endure another heart attack.
Stan’s mind was hazy, but he reminded himself that he was okay with this. He was okay. Dipper and Mabel were gonna in. They got to see each other face to face! Dipper would get to meet Ford, and one day he would get to be with them forever. Heck, Stan even got lucky enough to meet his niece, who he already loved just as much as he loved Dipper. And Ford… he might have been a huge jerk, but he would have liked to see him again. Oh, well. It’s not like Ford would want to see him again.
The old trainer winced and groaned as he could feel his breath being taken away.
Mabel had Gompers go as fast as he could back to Thebes. She, Ford, and Dipper were terrified of what they would come to, but they had to see him again, they had to!
Gompers stopped right where he had picked the young pair of twins up for battle and were distributed to find Stan lying down, he never lied down! Pacifica turned to them, shaking her head and moving aside so they could see how deadly still and pale Stan was.
Ford instantly collapsed onto his knees by his brother’s side. He shook his head, refusing to believe it, and carefully took his hand. “Stanley,” He muttered quietly. “Stanley, it’s me, your brother.”
Mabel was on her knees next to Ford, trembling like a leaf and already crying. “G-G-Grunkle Stan… please…”
The ruler of the gods scooped his brother up and was distraught when his head fell limp to the side. Ford helped his head lay on his strong arm, tearfully begging and holding his twin close to his fast-beating heart. “Come on, Stanley. P-Please! Wake up! Stanley!” He sobbed and bowed his head, cradling his brother and distraught to find him already cooling down. Ford had never been there for his brother when he needed him to be.
Mabel took Stan’s free, limp hand and kissed it through her tears, then rubbed Ford’s back as he cried freely. Stan appeared much more pale in comparison to the gods that held him close, who shined and glowed like gold. Ford freed an arm to bring her niece closer, and the two held the family member they had so desperately wanted to be reunited with and now would never have a chance to.
Dipper was standing right behind them, shaking with his fists clench. He turned away and sniffed, trying to keep it together, a tiny toxic voice telling him to keep it together and be a man. But the fact that the ruler of the gods was sobbing his heart out behind was enough to help Dipper shed a tear or two, but he couldn’t help but cover his eyes with a hand.
Pacifica hesitated, and then patted his shoulder. “I’m… I’m so sorry, Dipper.” She croaked and glanced back at the broken family. “There’s… some things you just can’t change.”
Scowling and determined with fire in his eyes, Dipper lifted his head and dropped his hand from his eyes. “Yes I can.” And he and Pacifica were gone before Ford or Mabel could realize they were going and they were too busy to notice their disappearances.
~~~~~~~~~~
“WE WERE SO CLOOOOOSE!”
Bill was on a rampage. Now completely alone with no allies and only a sad underworld for his lair, he released his fury by blasting everything in sight with fire. Gideon was well hidden and letting his boss let his anger out, getting fed up of being under the triangle’s thumb and looking for a way out of this; If Pacifica can get her freedom, maybe he can, too.
Bill floated to a window overlooking the underworld, cooling down, but still furious. “We were so close, we tripped at the finish line, WHY?! All cuz that worthless conartist had to teach that twerp a thing or t-...”
The doors crumbled at the punch of the young hero, accompanied by his little tour-guide, Pacifica, who scowled at the demon with a gleam in her eye. “Where’s Stan?” Dipper growled.
Bill smiled at his visitors. “Ah, Pinetree and Llama, underworld’s a great place for a date, isn’t it?”
“Let him go.” Dipper demanded, charging at the demon and grabbing him by his stupid black toga.
Bill rolled his eye and plucked the human’s hands off him. “Get a grip, kid. Here, lemme show you around. C’mon.” And he had a hand on Dipper’s shoulder and walked with him out of Bill’s study, with Pacifica and Gideon curiously following them.
Bill took Dipper to a river of green death, with hundreds of thousands of souls swimming around. Towards the top, was Stan. Peacefully sleeping in his armor and cape, his soul torn and war-worn, but there he was.
“Stan!” Dipper called and reached for him, but the green liquid made his hands burn and age.
“Ah ah, you can look but you can’t touch.” Bill laughed. “You see, Stan’s got a new place here. He’s gonna be in this river, floating for eternity.”
Dipper did some quick thinking, watching Stan float farther away, and an idea came to him and he glared at Bill. “You like making deals. Take me in Stan’s place.”
“Hm.” Bill poked his face as he mockingly gave it some thought. “The great-nephew of my hated rival trapped forever in a river of death.”
“Going once…”
“In exchange for an old man who’ll probably die again next week.”
“Going twice…”
“Okay!” Bill interrupted. “Okay, okay, okay. If you can get him out, he can go, but you have to stay. Good luck, hero.”
Dipper looked back at the river he could easily step into. Stan was farther away now, almost around a riverbend, so the brave young man took in a deep breath and cannon-balled into the River of Death and swam for his uncle’s soul.
“Oh, you know what slipped my mind, you’ll be dead before you can get to him.” Bill called after him. “That’s not a problem, is it?” He cackled.
Dipper knew Stan was right, but if this would give Ford and Mabel a chance to be with him, if only for a short amount of time, so be it. Twins shouldn’t be separated forever.
The instant he jumped in, Dipper began dying rapidly. Not even aging, having a moment’s peace of being in his thirties, forties and fifties. His body seemed to instantly jump to his sixties and then slowly crawl upward. Stan was still so far away, but Dipper kept pushing, thinking of his family crying over Stan’s body. He had to do this. This had to work. Now aged to a hundred-year-old man, frail and at the brink of death, he reached for his uncle’s hand, just as they turned a corner on the river, hidden by a cavern.
Bill grinned at his victory, but his joy was short lived. Bright golden light shined. Bill’s eye was wide with horror and he watched as a true hero walked on the River of Death, carrying his trainer in his arms. “This… This is impossible! You can’t be alive, you’d have to be…”
“A god?” Pacifica and Gideon asked.
Bill roared in fury as he turned red, small and child-like as he kicked and screamed in the air.
Dipper’s skin now glowed golden, like his great-uncle and twin sister. He was sure and determined, clever, and healthy and youthful. And though he was grateful to have his godhood restored, he was still focused on getting his family together.
“Dipper, stop! You can’t do this, you can’t…” And Dipper punched Bill so hard in the face that his eye fell inward into his triangle body.
Bill recovered shortly, popping his eye back into place and chuckling nervously as Dipper walked away. “Okay, I deserved that. Pinetree, can we talk? Your uncle, Sixer, he’s a fun guy! Y’know, m-maybe you can put in a good word with him and we can just blow this whole thing off, huh?” Not seeing any reassurance, Bill went for his last desperate attempt to save his bricks. “Eh, Stan. Stanie, c’mon, talk to your kid.” And he cupped the soul’s cheeks.
At that, Dipper lost his patience and punched him so hard that Bill flew right into the river. Souls instantly latched onto him, and at his annoyance, he was dragged into the depths of death.
“Oh, he’s not gonna be happy when he gets outta there.” Gideon fretted at the edge of the river.
“You mean,” Pacifica gently elbowed her old working buddy and asked slyly, “If he gets out of there.”
Gideon lit up and grinned. “If… If is good.”
“You know,” Dipper said coolly, and the two looked at him. “I think this place is gonna need a new ruler of the underworld. But I think it should be someone who knows just how important life is, so death becomes more comforting.”
Gideon gasped and had an idea, so excited about it he swatted Pacifica’s arm and yelled, “OH! Oh oh oh oh OH! C’mon, c’mon!” And he dragged Pacifica to a special section of the underworld.
Dipper followed behind with Stan still in his arms and Gideon took them to the throne room. Years ago, Gideon watched Bill press a stone on the left side of the door to reveal where he kept a small amount of poison to turn gods mortal. Today, Gideon felt around for a stone on the right side of the door that could be pressed. After a few seconds, he found it, pressed, and a door opened to reveal a cave much like the last, except for oozing purple poison, a bottle of golden elixir awaited them.
“I knew it!” Gideon grabbed the bottle and held it out to Pacifica. “Here! Take it! Be the new god of the underworld!”
“What?!” Pacifica pushed the outstretched bottle back. “No, not me…”
“I think you should.” Dipper reassured. “You helped save my family twice today. You helped those kids. You clearly value life the way you should. I think you’d make a great goddess.”
“And I’ll be there to help you!” Gideon volunteered. “I know a lot about this place, I just… erm, let’s just say I’ve proven to be an awful boss in the past, k’?”
Pacifica played with her hair nervously, still unsure, but the smile from her friends was just enough, and so she snatched the bottle and took a swing before she could change her mind.
~~~~~~~~~~
Dipper carefully walked back to Thebes with Stan’s soul in his arms. He was reminded of so many times when Stan would pick him up from the dining table full of work and take him to bed. Stan had been his family for so long, that to know they were blood was actually very exciting. On top of which, if Dipper understood the rumors correctly, Stan was once a god, ubt lost his godhood, too. If Dipper can get his back, there must be a way to get Stan’s back. Even if he was a god now, Dipper was determined not to leave Stan’s side until he also earned his godhood. Family sticks together.
Mabel and Ford were still holding onto Stan, just as Dipper left them. Mabel was the first to notice the footsteps, to look up, and to gasp at not only Stan’s soul, but the fact that Dipper glowed like gold, like she and Ford did. She squeezed Ford’s shoulder and he finally took notice, gasping at his nephew.
Mabel scooted back a little bit to give Dipper some space, but Ford refused to let Stan go. He merely loosened his hold so Dipper could gently place the soul down onto the body, and then they waited with Dipper on one knee and Mabel scooting closer again.
It only took a moment. Stan took in a deep breath and let it out far easier than he had in years, and his color returned far brighter than before. Dipper gasped at how he sparkled and shined, and Ford and Mabel grinned to know their hope was proven correct.
Stan blinked once or twice, confused, but beyond amazed to see his entire family surrounding him. He quickly noticed the tears and sat up a bit, concerned, “Whoa, hey, is this an audience or a mosaic?”
“STANLEY!” Ford cried out and threw himself into his brother so hard they both fell into the ground, but neither cared. Stan chuckled nervously and tightly hugged his twin while Ford began to cry again. “St-Stanley! I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry! I should’ve…”
“Aw, c’mon, Sixer,” Stan rubbed his shaking back. “It’s okay, it all worked out.”
“I almost lost you…”
“Well, you didn’t.” Stan loosened his grasp to better look at his nephew, and Ford turned to grin proudly at him as well. “Thanks to that knucklehead. HEY! Wait a minute! You jumped into the River of Death?! That was stupid, don’t you dare lemme catch you risking your life for mine, kid! I’m old! I go first!”
Dipper laughed and gestured to Stan. “That’s never gonna happen.”
Stan looked down at himself and flexed his arms and hands, his eyes wide. “Whoa hey! Kid, you did it!” He looked back up at Dipper, finally noticing that he was also glowing, and he jumped to his feet and cheered. “YOU DID IT! You’re a true hero! I trained a true hero! We’re gods again!”
Mabel jumped into Dipper’s arms and hugged him. “I’m so proud of you guys! I KNEW you could do it!”
Ford chuckled warmly and helped his twin up to his feet. “Come, let us go home.”
Mabel whistled and Gompers lowered himself so the family of gods could ride the giant goat back to Olympus.
At the mountain top, just inside the newly repaired gates, the gods and goddess awaited to congratulate the newcomers. Fiddleford blew his trumpet loudly with joy; Hazel, the goddess of spring, tossed flowers every which way; Jackie, the goddess of Summer and Romance, winked at Stan, who ran a hand over his gray hair and threw her a sly smile; Pacifica and Gideon were there, too, Pacifica glowing a peaceful light-blue color to go with her white tiara and baby-blue dress with white sash. Dipper couldn’t help but smile at Pacifica; maybe someday she could earn his trust.
The gods entered their new home and Mabel caught something happening to the night sky. She gently elbowed her brother and pointed up to the sky, and their uncles also looked upward. The Faiths had manipulated the cosmos to tell the new story, and they all watched as the stars formed into the shape of a dipper, the exact same shape on Dipper’s forehead. Beside the new constellation, a shooting star graced the dark inky sky.
“Hey, that’s Stan’s boy!” Hephzie, the goddess of autumn and harvest pointed out.
Stan blinked his eyes dry and let Mabel hug him around the neck from behind, patting her hands. Ford put a hand on his left shoulder, and Stan pulled Dipper into a soft noogie. Together, the loving family watched the beautiful sky.
Just remember, in the darkest hour,
Within your heart's the power
For making you
A hero too!
So don't lose hope when you're forlorn!
Just keep your eyes upon the skies!
Ev'ry night a star is,
Right in sight a star is,
Burning bright a star is born!
#GF#gravity falls au#fanfiction#hercules#dipper pines#mabel pines#grunkle ford#grunkle stan#death#just kidding#stangst#happy ending#gift#Thanks for reading!#seriously thank you all!!!#I hope you liked it!
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Which Kind Do You Want to Be?
Chapter 4: Wanting
Either you're in completely over your head, or you're exactly where you need to be.
Summary: This is a story about trust and kindness, loneliness and loss, belief and transgression. And two people crossing paths just long enough to find each other.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Read on AO3
Relationships and characters: Din/female reader (both similar age to Din in canon), Grogu, and a cameo from Peli.
Rating: Mature? Explicit? Anyhow, grown-up sexy stuff in later chapters. Please be old enough to be reading this kind of thing.
Tags and warnings: Moments of angst, domesticity, kindness, explicit consent, and Din doing his best to be a conscientious parent in the midst of everything. Heads up for descriptions of canon-typical violence, mention of past dubious consent, and a moment of (unintentional) violence between our protagonists. Ending is bittersweet.
You finish the food in your ration tray while he carries the child to his sleeping quarters. You can hear him responding patiently to the child's babbles.
"We can play after your nap."
"Yes I know I promised. Sleep first."
And finally, "See, I knew you were tired." He pats the child's head and tucks the blanket in around him.
The door to the sleeping compartment slides closed.
"He'll be ok alone in there?" you ask.
"He knows how to open the door."
“I didn’t realize how deep that all went," you say as he sits back down across from you. "I never knew the history."
He's sitting with elbows and forearms resting on the table, and it would look casual if you hadn't started to notice how straight he sits when he's uncomfortable. You wonder if he’s practiced this pose, for negotiations maybe. Look like you're off your guard, even when you're not.
“It’s not your responsibility to know," he says. "It's my responsibility to remember.”
“It’s a little like the people from Alderaan, isn’t it?" You're trying to show him you want to understand. "Not very many of them, now. Only the ones who were off-planet."
There's an edge in his voice when he replies. “Alderaan was a place, not a way of life.”
"I guess that's true. And they live out in the open,” you add, acknowledging the difference.
“People don’t hunt Alderaanians for sport." The last word comes out sharp, sounding bitter.
Now you’re not sure what to say.
He shakes his head, looking down now at his gloveless hands. "It's not the same."
You could remind him, A lot of people have lost a lot. You could say, I have, too. You could say, You're lucky. You still have people who would know you. You can tell an old story and they'll recognize the words.
This is not a contest, though. He doesn't need to carry your history along with his.
"Everyone calls you ‘Mando.’ Do you mind that?”
“Names would let them count us. Find us," he says, still looking at his hands. "It's better this way.” He reaches across the table to stack your empty ration tray on top of the child's and then both of them atop his own. "I'll get these cleaned up."
He carries the trays to the little galley, flipping open the panel that hides the narrow counter and small sink.
Even through his shirt, you can see how the muscles in his back move as he turns on a trickle of water to wet a cloth, then begins cleaning the trays by hand.
You could get up and go over there, rest your head against the back of his neck and put your arms around him. He's used to having his hands covered in cloth and leather, but your hands were trained to give comfort. Learning to fight was a necessity, never a matter of pride. Except… over the years it has been. Being good at your job has been something to hold onto, when there wasn’t anything left.
You could stay where you are. You can smash down desire. Consent is sacred: You learned how to respect that even before you understood what those feelings were about. You could get through the next couple days of ship’s time, walk down the ramp at Pavotha, and leave this whole thing behind. Leave behind his complicated story and your part in it.
You’ve gone a while without having anyone to get naked with. You can go a little longer.
That would be the simple choice.
It’s harder to ignore how much you miss just trusting someone. Or how much that’s tied up, in your head, with everything else you’ve been through.
You can let him lead, here, but that only works if he’s telling you where to follow. "I need to know what you want."
He turns to look at you, moving his head and shoulders as if he still had a helmet on and was looking through the visor.
"I need to find the child's people," he says before turning to face the little sink again, and that's not what you meant at all.
"I need to know what you want from me."
"I don't…" He doesn't finish the sentence.
"I'm not expecting you to go through with anything," you say to his back. "I just want to know if you'd rather I keep my distance."
He finishes rinsing the trays and sets them on the narrow counter. "You don't have to."
"Do you want me to?"
He closes the panel and leans against the wall beside it, instead of coming back to sit. "No."
"Can I ask you a question?"
He laughs that short laugh. "You're doing fine so far."
Are you, though? Or are you wading again into depths you don't understand? Your culture’s directness doesn’t always fly in other parts of the galaxy, and you’ve learned to tone it down. But so far it’s gone over fine with him. "What does your Creed say about sex?"
He answers you just as directly. "Be respectful,” he says. “Don't make a child you can't care for."
"But as long as you’re careful, it’s not forbidden?"
He looks puzzled. "No."
"So, you have been with someone. People. Before."
"Yes."
“A lot?”
“Why does this matter?”
“We said, trust,” you remind him, suddenly nervous about whether or not he’ll answer.
He sighs. “If you put a bunch of teenagers together, things are going to happen.”
You’re still guessing you’re around the same age, or he’s maybe a little older. You haven’t been a teenager in over 20 years. “When you were in training?”
He nods, a brief movement. “The fighting corps lived together and fought together. Sometimes people would--” He finishes that with a shrug.
“And what was that like?”
That laugh again. It’s hard to tell if he’s actually amused, or just looking to diffuse the moment. “Mostly it was fast.”
When you were in your teens, you were surrounded by adults who taught you about respect and consent and contraception, and then left you space to be alone with yourself or anyone you invited to join you. You had plenty of partners to learn alongside you, and plenty of time.
“Didn’t they give you any privacy? Couldn’t you spend time with someone if you wanted to?”
“Yes. There was time. They were kind to us.” He seems to think about that. “Some people did.”
Your memories of learning about sex are sweet. Memories of clumsiness and laughter, of first touches and physical highs you’ve never quite recaptured, even in all these years. “Fast,” you say back to him. “Do you want to try something slow?”
The look on his face is hard to read. It’s been interesting to see how sometimes you’re looking at unguarded emotion and sometimes he may as well still have the helmet on.
Eventually he nods.
“Is that yes?” you ask, to be sure.
“Yes.”
He doesn’t make a move toward you, though, so instead you get up and go to him. He’s still leaning against the wall as you step up close. You stand there waiting to see if he’ll stop you. He doesn’t move, just watches you. But when you go to slide a hand slowly down the side of his face, he moves his head away.
“Can we not do this here?”
Here, in the hold? In this spot? On this ship?
“Not like this,” he says. He sidesteps you to move away from the wall. “Anywhere else.”
It’s his ship, his space, but it seems he’s going to wait for you to decide. There aren't a lot of choices. There's the little room where he sleeps, but the child's tucked up in there and you're not going to bother him. You've rolled up your makeshift bed, and anyway although it's been comfortable enough it's not exactly cozy.
Making out in the carbon freeze unit would certainly be kinky, but hell no.
“What was wrong with--” you nod toward the wall where he’d been standing.
He reaches for your hand, pausing just before he touches you to wait until reach back. Then he leads you away from the table, over to the space where the two of you sat last night, leaning against the cupboards with drinks in your hands. “Sit with me?”
You do, and he carefully takes your hand again, his palm against yours and fingers intertwined. “I never had much say in it.” He shrugs. “When you’re seventeen and someone gets you up against a wall and reaches for you. I never knew how to say no.”
That’s... “Is that what you meant by fast?”
He sighs. “There wasn’t anything wrong about it. People needed to work off their energy after a fight. I could have said no. I never did.”
“So the other day when I asked you to--” Stars. “I’m surprised you didn’t throw me off your ship.”
“I’m a little older now. I know how to say what I want.”
“Do you?”
“I know how to say no.” He leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes. “I know how to provide for a covert. I know I need to protect the child. Besides that? I have no idea what I actually want.” A few seconds later he adds, “How do you know what choices are right, if you don’t have rules to follow?”
You open your mouth to answer and then stop. You haven’t had rules to follow since the early days of the Empire, when your village refused to tithe. Since your people learned to fire blasters, to fight hand-to-hand, to hurt instead of comfort. Since you’d all set aside everything you believed in, to be ready to say no to troops who would come to take your crops, your young people, all that you had.
The Empire had simply flattened your village from the air.
You’d been off-world on a supply run, gathering the few things your people couldn’t grow or make. You came home to ashes and bones.
You separate your hand from his and hold it up between you. Pre-Empire, you’d never even seen bruises like that. “My people would be horrified if they knew. That I make a living with my fists.”
“Your people sound kind,” he says. “Can’t you go back?”
Why haven’t you told him yet? I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to talk about it. I want to think that they’re still there. “There’s nothing to go back to.”
“Ah,” he says, and it’s the softest sound.
“I know what I want,” you say. “I just don’t get to have it.”
“What,” he says, echoing your own question from earlier, “do you want from me?”
What you want is to spend a few hours back in a time when your muscles would hurt from digging up ground-fruit, not from hand-to-hand combat and dodging blaster fire. When you could catch a man’s eye, share a smile, share a few hours in bed together and know you would part again as friends. When trust was as natural as breathing.
What I want is to pretend that I am home.
“I still want what I offered,” you tell him. “Which was to get naked with an attractive man and celebrate the fact that we’re alive. That was you,” you add, “in case you had any doubt. But what I also want is for you to want it. If you don’t then… It wouldn’t be any fun.”
“You said slow,” he says.
You find yourself smiling at him, and when his eyes meet yours he’s smiling back. “The word for stop is still stop?” you say.
“I’ll remember.”
But then, you’re not sure what to do next. If all he’s known is what he’s told you--You’re picturing him at seventeen, letting someone touch him and not even being sure he wants what’s happening. “Who goes first?”
“Show me.” he says.
You shift up onto your knees to face him, so that you’re kneeling beside him with your own thigh touching his. The first thing you do is brush those curls back from his forehead. He’s watching you as you slide your fingers through his hair, over the back of his head and down, around to his collarbone, then out to his shoulders. You lean in to kiss the side of his neck where your fingers just traced, and the sound he makes is going to make slow a bit of a challenge.
When you sit back, he’s already reaching toward you to echo your movements. For someone with so little experience, his hands are sure as he traces over your scalp and along your neck. But then he pauses. “I don’t know how,” he says, and you remember what he told you before this all started.
You take his hand and lift it to your mouth. “Like this.” The first kiss you place against his knuckles is feather-light. You follow it with lips just slightly parted, just the slightest bit of suction against his skin. He makes that sound again and you set his hand down quickly, before the thinking part of your brain cedes control.
He drags his fingers along your neck again, from the soft place behind your ear down to your collarbone, then uses his other hand on the back of your neck to draw you toward him as he leans forward. His mouth against your skin is clumsy, the feel of it bringing you back to your own first tries, so many years ago.
It makes your nerves light up anyway, a line of warmth running down your whole right side. You find yourself tilting your head to the side so it’s easier for him to kiss you there again.
But he’s already pulling back. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“I’m going to ask you a favor,” you say. “I’m going to ask you to stop worrying about that.”
"I’m taking advantage of your kindness.”
At first you’re not even sure what to say. You’re here with him like this because you want to be. You can’t help noticing that he’s gorgeous, but even more than that-- He’s been kind to you.
You’ve seen how precise he is with a blaster, and how quick to use it. Your people would be worried, to see you with a man like this. To see you here.
The tears start before you even realize you’re about to cry.
“Oh. No, no…” He sounds stricken, but his arms go around you without hesitation, pulling you onto his lap and holding you close. He’s resting his head against yours, murmuring against your hair. “No,” he says again, and then words you don’t understand, but they sound so gentle. “Burc'ya… ner burc'ya… ne naari trikar'la...”
You turn your face in against his shoulder, letting the warmth of his body sink into your own.
For a long while, his hands simply rest against your back, palms flat and fingers splayed, and you’re surprised how safe it makes you feel. Like his arms are your own armor, and nothing bad could happen to you here. Eventually though he’s shifting his hands down to tug at your shirt where it’s tucked into your trousers, and you find your body tensing up. It’s not that you don’t still want to feel his skin against yours, to get him out of his own shirt and find out what happens when you drag your teeth over his ribs. But in these recent years… It wouldn’t be the first time a man took what he wanted when you were feeling vulnerable. When a man suddenly seemed to forget the word for stop.
But this man, he just draws his hands up along your back again, palms against your bare skin now, and settles you back against him. All this time, he’s stayed away from the burn on your shoulder blade, as if he’s never forgotten it’s there.
Between the warmth of being so close to him and the soft rumble of the ship's engines, there's a deep tiredness stealing in on you. You're trying to muster the energy to move again, maybe to slip your own hands beneath his shirt, when he speaks above your head. "I should take care of the armor." The sound is a vibration through his chest.
"Right now?"
His hands move down to your hips, and then strong arms are moving your body so you're no longer tightly pressed together. But it's only so he can kiss the place between your shoulder and your neck, much more confident this time. "It can wait."
You're contemplating trying to get his shirt over his head when there's a sound from the sleeping compartment and then a little face with big, dark eyes looking curiously at the two of you.
You immediately drop your hands. "Hi, little one."
He's already moving your body from his lap, but it's careful, not a shove. "Did you have a good nap?"
The little creature tilts his head at the both of you, and then turns and scurries away.
"Did we scare him?"
But the man is smiling, looking where the child went. "He wants to play chase." He turns to you and you smile helplessly back, already smoothing down your clothes and getting ready to stand
He raises his voice a bit, for the child's benefit. "I don't know if I can catch him."
"Go on," you say. "I'll catch up." It's a completely silly thing to say in this cramped ship's hold, but it seems to make sense in the moment.
He nods at you and climbs to his feet, a brief groan betraying how stiff his muscles must be after all this time sitting on the floor. He's off after the child in a slow-motion run, giving him plenty of time to stay ahead.
You spend a little while watching them, the child dodging behind crates, the man pretending not to know where he's gone.
Then, you go join in the fun.
Translation (pardon my awful Mando’a): Burc'ya… ner burc'ya… ne naari trikar'la. Friend... my friend... Don't be sad.
#the mandalorian#fanfic#din djarin x reader#touch-starved din djarin#din djarin needs a hug#reader character also needs a hug
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Once I'm gone
Rating: M(ature)
Warnings: major character death
Category: F/M (main couple), Multi (side characters)
Fandom: Attack on Titan / Shingeki no Kyojin
Relationship: Mikasa Ackermann / Eren Jaeger | various side couples
Characters: Eren Jaeger, Mikasa Ackermann, Armin Arlelt, Zeke Jaeger, Hange Zoe, Floch Forster, Ymir, Reiner Braun, Pieck Finger, Historia Reiss, several others will make a cameo
Additional Tags: Modern AU | established relationship | toxic behaviour | Eren suffers from Huntington’s disease and tries to settle his matters before he dies | suicial blockhead Eren | aged up characters (by ten years) | suicide tw | depression tw | mental diseases tw | deathly diseases tw | this is clearly not write what you know, but I’m giving my very best to representate the topics as good as I can | this all basically came to me as a fever dream | you remember Thirteen from House, M.D.? I still have a huge crush on her so this version of Eren is greatly inspired by her <3
Language: English (not native, I’m trying my best you guys)
Stats: ongoing - Chapter 2/15 - Part 3/3 - 1094 of 2811 words
Summary: Eren Jaeger knew for years that he inherited Huntington’s disease from his late mother. When he first notices symptoms on him, his long protected plan, to end his life before reaching the critical state of his illness, awakes. But there is still Mikasa, his girlfriend and the only person in the world he cares about more than about himself, and he can’t leave her alone and grieving. It’s time to find a substitute for when Eren is gone. With the help of a new friend Eren tries to scare away Mikasa while driving her into the arms of someone new.
__________________________________________________
His brother, the psychologist - Part 3/3
<<previous
Eren’s mouth flipped open during Armins story. What a chatterbox. “I still don’t get why”, the threw in when Armin had ended. “You are perfectly healthy. Everyone here has got something, that’s really fucked up but someone just thought you were a girl. That’s nothing to commit suicide for.”
Eren heard his brother clucking in protest. “We are not in the position to judge someone! Armin is fighting for every day, just like the others in this room. If you want to be part of this group, you’ll have to learn to open up and accept the stories of everyone neutrally!”
Eren quickly blinked over to his brother then he looked at Armin who finally had his face turned away from the wall and returned his glance. His big blue eyes were watery but other than Reiner he was able to hold back the tears.
“Then let's hear your problem”, Armin muttered between clenched teeth.
Eren sighed. Technically he really wasn’t in the mood for this. It had got nothing to do with anyone what was happening in his head. But the stubborn look on that sissy's guy next to him didn’t let go of him and he knew he wouldn’t shut up until he knew what he wanted to.
“I told my doctor that I’ll kill myself before the illness I’ve got get’s so worse I can’t do it on my own anymore. I can be a chatterbox at times, i should probably have shut my mouth once in my life. Now they’ve sent me here, hoping my great big brother will bring some sense back into me. I don’t think it’s gonna work but who knows?” With a smug grin he crossed his arms in front of his chest and gave Armin’s staunch glance right back to him.
Finally it was the blond that ended the staring and looked back between his feet.
“What you’ve got?”, Pieck asked when Eren looked around the circle with no less smug look on his face.
“Huntington”, he said toneless.
Most of them didn’t give him a reaction. He knew what their first query on their smartphones upon leaving this room would be. But Pieck smiled at him pityingly - disgusting.
For a Moment complete silence fell over the room, only the scratching of Zeke's pen on paper was to be heard.
“Good”, he finally said. “Armin was talking to us about his new habit of taking an one hour long walk every day, when we were interrupted. Please, continue telling us. Got some recommendations for nice routes?”
Armin didn’t look up. His voice cracked as he started to speak. “I’m always going after university. Usually the same way every time. It totally doesn’t matter where to go, the main point is to move. Listening to music is immensely helpful. I’ve got a playlist for every mood.”
“Oh, your back to university!”, Pieck noted with a huge smile. Eren already had a pretty good image of the person she was, she probably acted as the mom-friend in the group.
Armin nodded and finally looked at her. “Yeah, the summer term started last week.”
Pieck smiled warmly and even Zeke looked pleased. “What Armin said, moving really is the Alpha and Omega. Being active definitely helps pushing away somber thoughts and fresh air helps getting the head empty. Follow Armin’s example, everyone.”
The circle applauded, what Eren thought was absolutely ridiculous and boycotted.
Finally Zeke took a look at his watch and did some other notes on his pad. “Well, time sure flew by today. We weren’t even able to talk about everything I wanted to. But we’ve got a new member around us, what I’m really glad about. I’ll see you all next week, same time, same place.” He placed the clipboard on his thighs and while the other four took their stuff he looked firmly and with contracted eyebrows at Eren. “And please be punctual next time.”
Eren rolled his eyes then he stood up. His glance met Armin who was the first one to leave the room, one hand placed over the lover half of his face. Eren grinned wonky. What a wimp. He still found himself hurrying up, to keep up with him. On the second floor he finally caught up with him. “Hey Armin! Wait a sec’!”
But Armin didn’t slow down and didn’t even look at him. “I have to catch my bus.”
Eren ran after him. “You said it was your third attempt at suicide. Explain it to me, I still don’t get it, you're not lacking anything.”
Armin finally looked at him. His watery eyes were pulled together. “Maybe not physically. But it’s called depression, you insensitive ass.”
Eren was surprised by his fighting back. He continued following Armin as he left the building. “My neurologist always tells me, I also got some. But I don’t believe that. I just wanna kill me before I lose control of my body. Is that so unusual?”
Armin looked at his bottomless. “Pieck could say the same, but she wants to make the best out of her life. Ymir is only still alive because of her girlfriend. Everyone’s dealing differently with a deadly disease.”
“Why did you try it in the first place?”, Eren asked when Armin sat down at the bus stop.
“You’re pretty cligly, aren’t ya?” He laughed with a huff. “When I was eight, I thought about what being dead must be like. My budgie had just died and my mom told me that he had gone to heaven. When I was twelve, the thought about dying still hadn’t left me alone. I took my mom’s lady’s shaver at the tub and cut my wrists. Way not deep enough and the wrong way round, like you can sometimes see it in the movies. When I realized I wouldn’t die from it, I just was full of panic how to explain all the blood to my parents. They sent me to a child psychologist. Since then I didn’t spend a full year without therapy.”
Eren whistled through his teeth. “You’re really quite the gloomy brat, aren’t ya?”
Armin looked at him through narrowed eyes and the tip of his nose had turned red. “You’re feeling really cool, aren’t you?”
Eren grinned back and shrugged.
“There’s my bus. See you next week, Eren Jäger.” Armin stood up and got onto the bus. While walking past the windows, he gave Eren a last bottomless glance, his face in deep reds under his eyes.
Eren scoffed. What a whiny brat. But he liked him.
>>next
__________________________________________________
Author’s Note: Yeah, Eren is very much a dork. I hope I got Pieck's character alright, I know she's got some fierce fans but I really struggled getting behind who she really was though out the series. I love some at the brink of tears - Armin. The next chapters will be more EreMika, I promise xD
#attack on titan fanfiction#aot ff#eremika#eren jaeger#armin arlelt#pieck finger#zeke jaeger#ymir aot#once i'm gone#once i'm gone chap 2#once i'm gone chap 2 part 3#eren jaeger x mikasa ackermann#writers on tumblr#fanfiction on tumblr#fanfiction#fanfic#writing#mentions of suicide tw#depressions tw
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Tryst-Chapter 10
I did it! I finally edited this thing. Still not completely happy, but they are, so 🤷♀️s! If you enjoy let me know. I love a like, reblogs are love, and anons are lifeblood! 😘!!
Tam
Inglewood
There seems to be an equilibrium they have reached, Helene decided one balmy afternoon home alone of her tiny apartment patio. She pictured it like a piece of a Johnny Cash song, them walking the golden line in the middle of U.S. streets. If they were to veer either way the emotional equivalent of oncoming traffic would flatten them.
Though she supposed that line felt pretty roomy, like an estate broker's favorite word, spacious.
Maybe it's a tightrope, and any imbalance means they smash upon the hard, unforgiving ground.
Helene had convinced herself that this was her own conception, that her lover, her boss, her Harry, didn't feel it as well.
Until she heard the album.
She'd been at the Paris listening parties, so she'd heard snippets, and she'd been in the studio a time or two, so she had heard rough stones being polished to diamonds, chord progressions and roughed out lyrics and melodies. That was all up until this point.
Helene was offered a choice, the whole of staff was, to hear the album early or with everyone else.
She had declined. Because she had a very clear picture of what it was about, who it was about. It stung. Not because she was unaware of his sorrow, or how he missed her, the other French girl, the one worthy of homage, but because, she had been there too- with him too. Every step of the way and through Paris and Rome, and Japan and Australia too.
It hurt.
As much as her eyes were open, muscle memory of the drill, the words cemented on her brain to console herself. He was in an open relationship, Helene was not in that relationship, she was simply a reason for the unbolted window. Always making cameos, never the headliner.
So, the album, as great as she kept hearing it was, would be confirmation of her role, or lack thereof. She wasn't ready for that truth.
She'd better get ready. Helene would be hearing it soon no matter what, and seeing him. It had been a little bit since Cancun, but the show was going on, and she was involved, expected. It wouldn't do to cry over her lack of lyrical odes in front of the fans, they all knew her name and face, and she wasn't so good a liar they'd believe a disclaimer of happy tears.
Before the first show went on, her own show needed to get on the road. It was time for her to break a leg, or her heart as it were. Her set up was optimal for a breakdown.
Empty hotel room, qui
Tissues on the toilet seat, qui
Full hot bath, qui
Goblet of red wine, tout a fait.
Helene was as ready for heartbreak, or it's residue if that's where she was now, as ready as one can be.
Her clothes are easy to quit, sweats and a TPWK tank exclusive to crew. The water is hot, her skin will redden to match her tear streaked face.
The level of melodrama she's reaching for this is impressive to even herself.
"Allons-y" she mutters and presses play.
And Clairemeant, she loves it. From first cord, she can imagine being in his stupid convertible driving to Shanghri la. Helene wishes he had played this when they went, a moment of California dreamin. She knows the next couple, as everyone does, in his world at least. Soon the whole world probably. They were radio besties, not just friendly.
It's the next few tracks where her preparations pay off. The tears come. For him, for her, and for Helene herself. The worst part isn't even her own pain; the waterworks are for Harry. She can hear his broken heart and bad decisions.
God, she hopes he does not count her among those.
But She, She is a new place to be. It's exactly what she would expect him to make and miles beyond expectation.
Then Sunflower, god, is it ridiculous to feel like there are glimmers of them? If kraft services counted as kitchens. It's the toothpaste. It's the fact that on their first go, they didn't know each other. Not really. She was his employee. She knew him, intimately, from all the watching, much less creepy than it sounds when it was her job. But she was somewhere between an insider and an outsider. Always an observer, never a participant was the lot of a photographer.
Except when Harry pulled her into the shenanigans, onto his lap, or some other harmless flirty gesture she couldn't forget.
Helene never lived in a canyon, though all of Paris seemed to rise around her some days. That one was nothing to do with her, and after a couple songs reprieve her heart seized all over again.
Helene loved that he'd made a song for his motto. It had all the silly he made cool. Even if he broke her heart sometimes, she loved how her kindness grew watching him cultivate and sow his own. The harvest was in the venues, and her heart.
After that happy high, she's not ready for the closer. Though she suspects she may never have been, no matter practice or preparation.
Fine Line throws her, thrills her, and makes her think.
Is it her? Is it them? Is it like most of the rest, Camille?
Helene is aware she is simplifying. Music isn't exactly clear in its inspiration or intention. There may be shades of her throughout.
In this last song, she feels more than shades.
Had they ever been anything besides a fine line? Somewhere between one thing and the next.
She hesitates to think something more, that denigrates their friendship. Romance isn't necessarily superior, that's a bought and sold fairy tale she has tried to unlearn.
But, if she is honest, being together would have felt like more, better. Because she wanted him, wanted him to want her.
Some of the lyrics trouble her.
She didn't think she was unknowable though. Maybe at the end, when she let him open her completely everywhere, and then promptly hopped over into one territory and only tread their old familiar line accidentally once.
Could she ask him? Would she? Tomorrow?
Non, that's not like her. Helene's direct in desire, but not in definition. Probably why they got stuck walking the line.
But they were alright. What a comfort that was.
Whatever the truth, the inspiration, when she heard it live, tomorrow, she would pretend or hyperextend. Believe. She'd believe it was about her.
———————————————————————————
Helene always forgets what it's like to see his face in person, be in a room with him. On paper and in her mind when she is away, she can rationalize. 'He's handsome. But not extraordinary. You know better looking men, have shared more time with some.'
And then he is nearby, and her entire body is aware of him.
Moreover, so is everyone elses. That is his power, super prowess. He has this energy that galvanizes every libido in range. The hell of it, it turns on a dime and you want to ruffle his hair just after riding his face. He's so sexy and frustratingly endearing.
His gap between adorable and sexy is so small, and bowtied to perfection.
"What's new pussycat?" He whispers near her left shoulder before she can even fully take him in.
"Enfin!" She could see the rear of her brain case.
Harry turned her body into his hug and was responding to her exaggerated exclamation.
"See Jeffrey, I told you she had the best eye roll!" He giggles a bit and holds her long, in that way anybody else probably couldn't get away with. Someone might rightly think they'd tasted every part of one another if he didn't hold everybody like this.
Helene takes the opportunity to smell him. He always smells good to her, even his stink. Sweat drenched and ball's empty or dandied up and stage worthy, he tasted like her first meal out when she returns home to Paris.
" I cannot believe you remember that conversation." She said into his neck.
It quelled his laughter.
"How could I forget the look of disgust on you and Sarah's faces. Too good to not use!"
"You gonna use it on Sarah too? Or would Mitch put your nose between your pretty eyebrows?"
"Don't mock my eyebrows!" He pulls back, but she's still within the walls of his body, bracketed by his arms. "They just grow like this."
"Qui," she snorted. "Don't forever I've photographed you being groomed, ma belle."
"She's just cleaning them up! I swear."
"She just took your man card Harry." Jeff 's snickering.
"He didn't have a man card since long ago." She and Jeff laugh together.
"Heeeey!" His offended face goes soft around his smiling eyes. He tilts her body away from the small backstage crowd and she wonders where they are going. She's still going; her toes have all but left the ground while he leads her with his whole body.
She follows her heart.
Helene always feels small, but he makes her feel deliciously tiny. He leads her down a corridor, past people he waves to and she would have stopped to hug in other circumstances. She'd missed this circus family. Finally, she just has to ask, "Harry, where are we going? I don't have my equipment." If he wanted her to capture the moment, she needed a camera. He did this sometimes, this drag to a piece of personal history or set up he saw well in his mind's eye. His enthusiasm always contagious.
He didn't exactly have that energy going on now, he seemed nervous rather than excited.
"That's a bit unfortunate. S'ok though I only want a mental picture of your face. When you tell me." He pulls her through a door, a different dressing room from last time, which she realizes upon entry is actually an office.
"Where are we?" Helene asks as he positions himself between her and the door like she might make a break for it.
"Irving's office." He explains off hand. "Now tell me, what' d you think?"
"Quoi?" She can feel the screw of her face to the left. She has no idea what he could mean, she'd been so busy keeping up with his footsteps, she had no idea what he was on mentally. They didn't always connect easily, he wasn't always an open book, but she'd figured out how to crack him a time or two. It was easier with a camera at her eye, or both of them naked.
"Of the album, my album." He pinches his bottom lip and wrings his hands a tad.
"The album?" Her brain's slow. Why were they talking about this?
"You' re the only one who hasn't text me, or responded. That's included I mean."
"Included?" What?
"Please stop repeating me in one word questions, Helene!" He looks up and blows out a breath. "Did you like it? Are you upset?"
"Upset?"
"Helene!"
"Harry, lower your voice."
"Apologies." He takes her hand. "Now, did you like it?"
Ah, it was easy to forget how praise was like water on a neglected plant to him. He just wanted assurance that her love of his work would fill her photos again.
"Qui, clairement, it's gorgeous."
"And?" He looks, she couldn't quite place it, Like a puppy trying to sneak into your bed. Hopeful but preemptively scolded.
"And?" She opens her palms to him, subconsciously trying to release his nerves about whatever he's asking her opinion of.
"Did you hear it? At all." He rolls his eyes, but it was so clearly at himself that Helene takes no offense. "Hear us I mean?"
"I didn't want to presume." She starts after a pregnant pause.
"Presume, tournesol, presume." He leans close and she can really smell him. Not pungent like Mexico after hours of sun, or after a night on stage. But, days lazing or loitering in Italy under warm skies.
She shakes her head at him. She felt a spark of recognition that she'd classified as hope during that song, but, "that one is not all me."
"No, not entirely. It is an idea, a feeling fleshed out, but an ode none the less." He assures her, all eye contact and vulnerability.
He's closer now, enough to touch. And she could have? Would, but she had a more important question, a deeper song to address. Though she had to admit, most days Sunflower was her favorite. "Am I in any others?"
"Glimpses. Though one is mostly you." He gives her an encouraging smile, mischief around its edges.
She sucks in a breath. She really wants to know, she's become so much more that she was since she met him. Braver, kinder, richer in many ways. Could she be direct as well? What would Dominique, her most forward friend, do? "And the ending. That feels like a beginning?"
"Fine line?" His dimple's out. Helene might feel upset that he's a cat and she's the mouse if he wasn't a Tom to her Jerry.
"Qui, fine line?" If she just lifts her hand, his jaw will fit just so, always has., or the beautiful curve of his shoulder.
"That one," he's smiling like the time he presented her cake on her birthday. "I realized in Mexico is you!"
"Not until Mexico?" Now she didn't want to touch him, not even his fine shoulder.
"I knew while writing, the glimpses of you, but only one part was, her, was" he swallowed. She hoped it wasn't still pain slicing his throat as he forced the feeling down. She'd even take regret. "Camille" he took her hand. More friendly than the conversation. "The rest, the hope, is you." The nerves were foreign to him when he was with her, he didn't wear them well, his only awkward fit.
Helene let's her eyes fall closed while his breath wafts over her face. That was more Harry. The taste of caffeinated mint. The familiarity messes with her head, it's a bit false but never forced.
She wants to accept his compliment, even though he's undercut it with an inconvenient truth.
Their relationship was not one. They were friends, they slept together sometimes, he was her boss and her muse. But they were never together, and "that's nice, Harry, but, forgive me if it seems, well convenient."
"Convenient?" Oh, his brows are as tangled as his growing curls. Damn him.
"Me belle, it's hard not to notice who is not here, but everywhere on the album." He narrows his eyes in response to her observation. "And I also have someone else to call baby."
"You're with someone?" His pretty brows nearly touch above his nose.
"Qui." It was a bit of a stretch, really. A man she is dating, fucks occasionally. They're not exclusive, and she likes him, Rene, but no more has developed With anybody else, since she gave Harry Carte Blanche with her body. She had liked him, them, a few of them, thought they had potential. She supposed they still did, it just hadn't developed. Helene has never pushed them down the hill.
It hadn't stopped her from being with Harry in Mexico.
Helene talks about him now, hoping it will slow down the ball rolling from the top of the hill in Harry's mind. If he'a just realized he wrote about her and still believed sharing that notion just after she spent several hours marveling, begrudgingly, over his words to another woman, her clothes would fall off over one song for herself, well, he might be right. But she needed some kind of defense mechanism.
She's lacking a chastity belt, Rene's specter would have to do.
"How long?" He asks quietly.
"A bit." She wasn't going to give him details. That was showing him the chinks in her honor.
"Oh, ok, well, that's good." He clears his throat, looks at her with murky eyes. "I'm happy for you."
"I'm happy for you, as well." She hugs him, to touch him and reassure him. "This album, tour, will be a great success."
"Yeah, yeah." He says trying to believe it. "Now that it's out there, I hope so. But we are going to make it fun. You up for some fun, Helene? This time out?"
She's confused, last time was fun, but she supposed her life was changing so fast, she had no grand expectations to carry on her shoulders and no one broke her heart during tour.
That came after. He must be going into this round with a different attitude.
"Yeah, fun sounds good." He high fives her and she can't help but laugh at him. It turns into another hug, and all the distancing she'd done during this conversation ceased when he kissed her flaxen hair.
"Break, break a leg, Harry." He smiles, the nerves making it quiver just a bit as they go their separate ways.
——————————————————————————
The album closer is approaching and Helene is suddenly nervous. Sunflower kinda made her shake, luckily it's such a damn happy jam, her feelings didn't sweep her away. It's already been a magical night, and she knows the magic doesn't end with the album. Harry has some amazement up his pink sleeve.
His outfit had been distracting, not like Paris or Madrid, but it's so pretty and such a cute silhouette. Helene realizes while she is snapping away. It was distracting because she wanted it herself. It might overwhelm her small frame, but that pink would look good on anyone. He might loan it to her, Sarah and Mitch wore his clothes sometimes.
She's at least as close.
Closer.
He says something before he begins, and it's loud so Helene has to translate it twice, figure out his words and then think them in French. The song's started before she realizes he's said its a difficult song to perform for the first time.
She can't put her finger on why, but she feels for him, for herself. Her brow is knit up like that time she tried to make a Christmas scarf and the little piece of her heart she took back from him breaks free from its stitches and goes to him, right where he stands on his big stage.
The music starts and it's the build that gets her. Just like the first time. She admits she listened to this one repeatedly, Listen one- physical experience, listen two- listening for the glimpses she thought she had caught of herself. Listen three- cry time.
Helene does not want to weep, but it seems she might be in good company. Harry's doing his closed eyes thing. She teased him about that onetime.
"Is it easier to hear how good you are if you close your eyes?" She'd asked this from the head of the bed while he lay across the bottom rubbing her feet.
"What?"
She supposed it was a nonsequiter. "When you sing and when you fuck, you close your eyes sometimes. Is it so you can focus on the screaming?" She pushed him with her foot and gave him a flirtatious smile.
"I don't need to hear the screams to know I'm good." He'd smirked at her and she would have kicked him off the expensive high hotel bed, but he continued too quickly, "To be honest," oh he was serious now, "It's when I get emotional. Or I need to focus."
"Like to hit a note?" She likes his explanation. He keeps his eyes closed sometimes when he's inside her. She hopes that, she, makes him feel; she's too afraid to ask him about that though.
"Or to make you hit a note!" He'd dropped his emotional temperature quickly, grinned and tackled her. "Let's see if we can get you to a G7!"
She did not hit any whistle notes, her orgasm had actually been pretty silent, but the build up had been harmonious.
The conversation came back to her now. His eyes were definitely closed, as they had been during Falling, and a few other times. But, he'd said this was hers, theirs, and he seemed to be feeling, if her memory served, and she remembered so much about Harry, she trusted it.
And then, as her eyes are unquestionably about to spill over to wet the forum floor with her fellow Harry fans, his open. They find her like he's been tracking her all night, and that may be true, though that is more her job, to always be aware of him and his location. But she's rooted there now. She may never leave this spot, Because there is emotion in his eyes, it's not humid like hers, but it's intense.
He eventually shifts to connect with a paying customer, but Helene is a mess. She has to go back stage to collect herself.
She almost misses Stevie, and even if he wrote songs about her, Helene is fairly certain she would get fired for that. The rest of the show is a blur. She snaps it by muscle memory.
Helene also doesn't stay for the after party, it's all to much. It's a departure from her normal behavior, she would almost always stay, with her camera, and to be with everybody. Tonight she's planned to. She missed them dearly, she just couldn't after that moment.
Harry doesn't have that luxury, it's his party, which is why he doesn't knock on her hotel room door until 3am.
She thought she'd got away with it.
Helene's still awake, barely, and when she answers the door, she knows she's mussed. He's seen her like this before, he's caused it. She's too tired to care much.
"Harry," she sighs. "It's late, Cherie."
"You left, and I needed to talk to you." He walks in like he owns the place. She supposes he did pay for it. He just turns to look at her, and if she didn't already feel exhausted beyond measure, those eyes on her may have sparked the fire he lit long ago in her belly.
"Go ahead." The sooner he unburdens himself the better, she looks longingly at her bed.
And then he just sighs and says, "are we?"
She's doubts the face she makes is attractive, "are we what?"
"Alright? Are we alright?"
God, that's a major question. What they are is a shadow of existence, some half way place between what they could have been, what they should be, and then what they are. It a very strange set of loops, like the comparison charts from school. They are colleagues, no doubt, friends, thankfully, and lovers, occasionally. Do any of those designations mean they are alright?
Because she doesn't want occasional lovers.
She's put distance between them because she wants more. Halfway is not alright to her.
"Helene?" Oh, she's just been biting her lip this entire time. She really wants to go to bed, but, they should get this done before tour. Does she tell him she wants to be the dead center of his life, or just leave it at they are alright and go to dreamland.
Either are scary in their own right and he's distracting.
He's wearing comfy clothes, the yellow shirt and large trousers she'd snapped him arriving at the forum in. The shirt hugs his body and it makes it difficult for her to pretend she doesn't want to be really open about her feelings. Sometimes isn't enough, not anymore, maybe not ever.
"Let's sit."
"Uh oh." Harry exhales.
"Uh oh?" She looks up at him.
"Is the next sentence 'we need to talk?'"
"Well, we do, or you wouldn't be here on the wrong side of the sun."
"Fair enough." He sighs and sits back, his head hits the back of the couch. He's stretched out, and her small frame would fit well between his hips and chin. She's tempted to do it, to straddle him. Then the talk won't happen, and all these things will be left up in the air. And she will be narrative adjacent, still.
But she's in his narrative, right? If the song is about her? Is that enough?
So she sits with him. "Harry," she takes his hand and he looks so hopeful. "What does it mean to be alright?" Helene is surprised by her own question. It's direct, perhaps not as direct as it could be. She's unsure what he's asking. Is he asking her for more of the same? Today's same, where they are flirty friends and colleagues. Or the alright of yesterday, where she's his friend and employee with benefit.
That's not alright.
Or does it mean something else, something more. Like the feeling after the build in the music, hopeful, open ended: a chance taken.
He finally yanks his eyes open, and Helene remembers he performed an entire concert and went to an after party. That he is center stage in many peoples life. Is she insane to want to be his locus?
Harry opens his mouth, then closes it.
"I guess, I don't know."
Helene nods. It's not a surprise, he just wants harmony and everybody happy. He may not have thought beyond them being ok on the surface. He's not ready for the conversation she thought he was asking about.
"We're fine Harry. You're tired, you should get to bed." She stands to show him to the door, is suddenly back to wholly exhausted herself.
He's shaking his head.
"Harry's it's 330. We need sleep."
"I didn't like that you left."
"You don't get to make me stay at a party. It's not part of my duties."
He's still shaking his head. "No, I'm not saying this right. It's not alright."
"What isn't?" God, she's frustrated, wants him to be clear.
"That you don't want to be around me. I miss you." Well that's obvious for him, and wrong.
She closes her eyes. "Did you ever consider, maybe it's that I want to be around you too much."
"What do you mean?" He looks puzzled but there is light around his eyes, blue skies and clouds.
She sighs. Someone has to be vulnerable,
Might as well be her. She knows how straightforward he just was must pain him. "I mean, I don't want to be with you at the party," he's cringing. "well, not just." She takes a fortifying breath. "I miss you too, but I miss what we could have been as well. And I can't," she could do this. "I can't just sleep with you when you are feeling lonely anymore. We are either friends or we are more. It's not fair to me. I can't walk the fine line anymore."
He's looking at their interlaced fingers. A drop hits her hand.
"Harry?"
"I'm sorry." He whispers
Her heart breaks. He doesn't want this. She tries to take her hand from his. Dammit, why did they have to do this in her room? She can't run away now.
"No, no." He looks up. Why's he sad when she's getting rejected? "I'm sorry I took you for granted, or made you feel like you were my second choice."
She'd not said that.
"I can read between your lines, Helene." He touches her cheek. "I had feelings for you, but I was already with Camille. And then, I was mourning. And it takes me bloody ages."
She wants to role her eyes. She supposes it's kinda true, but he was mourning his rejection.
"I've realized since then, my heart was bruised, but my ego was what got broken. And I wasn't in a place to offer you anything. Not until Mexico, but then things just got busy and we didn't talk."
"We never do." She purses her lips.
"We need to." He holds her chin in his hands. "So, I'm asking. Will you cross the line with me?"
God, her heart is swelling, and she's afraid to look at his face. Is he really asking what she is hearing? "Harry, amor, what does that mean? I can't speak in metaphors." She can, but it's trouble with him. He's a metaphor himself with his figurative edges and blurred meanings.
He sighs, chuckles to himself, and lets go of her hand. He cups her face and draws her eyes up to the tide pools of his. The tides in, he's teary. "I want to do it together, not have you cross the line hoping I follow, or me waiting on the side for you thinking you understood what I was asking for. But together."
She huffs, she stilll, always, doesn't know what the fuck he is talking about. "What line Harry?" She assumes when someone is holding your face gently you shouldn't be yelling in their face in return, but he is so frustrating. "I still don't know what you are saying."
He laughs at himself, or at her, or them. "I'm saying, we should do this, you and me. Like a real relationship. Not just when we are together on tour or meeting up for me to work. But you come home with me to London, or Malibu, or wherever. Or I go with you to Paris, and we don't leave."
"Are you suggesting we move in together?" She's smiling, finally. The edges of her lips would be at her earlobes if they could be. "You may want to ask me to be your girlfriend first."
"We've been moving at a glacial pace for years. But that's not really what I meant—"
"I know." She shakes her head fondly. "So?"
"So-" he takes a big breath. "Will you be my girlfriend, Helene?"
Oh god, this is what it feels like to look at the sun. To be the sun. "Yes!" It's a whisper, but full of emotion if not voice.
She's not sure why she is so overcome by it that she can't speak, but she can move, she's straddling his lap a moment later.
He laughs, "it's hard to kiss you when you are giggling." But he's vibrating along with her and his bunny teeth clack against hers just as much. His hand is in her hair and it's not until it slides down to cup her jaw that she can't laugh anymore.
Not when he is looking at her like that. His heart is in his eyes and her face is in his hands. Harry's eyes always sparkle, but the combination of mirth and awe shakes her like an earthquake.
The kiss goes better then, or it more closely resembles a kiss, in that their lips form to one another, going from right angle to straight line to acute in time. His tongue has always been devilish and she wonders if it's vocal training that renders it so.
She's more vocal than him, as always, and she's panting his name when his hand engulfs her throat before sliding her silk pajama top off her shoulder to kiss her neck, collarbones, the tops of her breasts. Her nipples stand high on her plum sized mounds and they always trill along the roof of his mouth deliciously. His other hand is around her hip and he's gripping it fiercely to move her over him.
She's halfway there on his question alone, but their venue seems a bit uncomfortable. Helene almost reconsiders her position on their positioning when Harry has that perfect mouth between her breasts and below and the back of the couch is perfect to hold onto while she arches back, back, back. She's bent in two when he pulls her up to his mouth.
This time she is getting his teeth. Why's he giggling again, this is serious business? If she could just concentrate, get him to focus for a moment, she can have her first orgasm of the night.
"Harry, Cherie." She tríes again, her tongue ready to slide over his lips and into that pattern that makes her shiver when his teeth block her again. "Please kiss me!" She's frustrated.
"I was going to ask you if you wanted to move to the bedroom, girlfriend, but you're very focused." He's still smiling and her ire melts at the appellation.
Does she want to go to the bedroom? She won't have the back of the couch to hold onto, but she will have Harry.
She stands and drops her loose shorts. As is usual, Harry has most of his clothes on and she's suited up for her birthday.
"Alright." He breathes and she's in his arms and he's finally giving her the tonguing she loves en route. Her in the altogether seems to have finally got him from mirth to girth, pressing against her and filling the void at the apex of her thighs the way only he has.
She's happy Harry seems to have been enjoying their bodily arrangement as much as she is, when he sits on the side of the bed and maneuvers to the middle with her still draped around his waist. He's said before he loves how maneuverable she is, and she is loving her tiny stature at the moment too.
Her hands are pulling his t shirt free and tossing it away. She loves the golden hue of his skin, he's always a little tan, even in winter. The milk and honey of their bodies against one another always delights her. She goes for the button on the jeans she'd like for herself. They won't fit her, but he always fits, snug at first and then just right.
He kicks them free and then she's back on top of him doing the wiggle to get his inside her, pressing over the largest part before the pressure keeps up and then everything slips into place, the audible pop of his tip still her favorite part.
They both exhale, and smile into each other's eyes. Helene touches the corner of his eyes and they twinkle back at her. "Hi boyfriend."
He chuckles and she moans over the tiny vibration it causes. "You're ready then?"
He already knows the answer to this question. Helene braces her hand behind her while she nods and then his hand is beneath her ass flexing her pelvis over his own.
He really is her prince of rock and roll. She rolls up over him and rocks over his dick until he's closing his eyes and drilling her hips. He's split her open, bottom up and it's intense.
"Give me a minute." He chokes after less time than she expected.
"Too much?" She likes that the shoe is on the other foot, usually she needs a break from his unrelenting physicality, Harry the athlete in the bedroom as well.
She supposed it takes emotion to force Harry to a quick release.
She's keeps flexing around him until he puts his head to her collarbone and then looks up to glare at her. "You're walking a fine line!" He says before he laughs at his own joke.
"I'm not waking anywhere. I'm loving you." She let's that sit there while her hips are quiet. That's all she's going to say about that. He stares at her intensely.
"Let me see you love me, then." She likes when he gives orders, even when their sex is closers to making love than fucking.
Helene obliges him, caves her belly back and starts the ride again, notches her head next to his, like the teeth of zipper, so she can watch with him.
It gets her there, but he's a little ahead of her. He's stilling her hips again. "Stop." It's a beg.
"Just come bebe." She whispers into his sweaty skin.
"You're not ready." He protests.
"We have all night, you can spread me open, all. night. and all day tomorrow, and after." She smiles at him. "All the time in the world to know me!"
"Yeah?" He's gleeful like a kid finding tooth fairy money.
She nods and starts moving, directs his gaze down. The edge of pleasure closer than she expects. Harry is rarely wrong about pleasure. Helene's happy her climb surprises them both.
She reaches the peak and plummets with him on the rollercoaster of emotions tonight's brought. Screams with the thrill.
It's more than fine, the white light explosion behind her eyelids. They've found the right side of the line.
They'll be alright.
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#Inglewood#fine line live#chapter 10#halene#tryst
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You Were Beautiful (KJM x reader)
Summary: You had been in love with your classmate Kim Junmyeon for the last year and a half. You finally find the guts to tell him the truth about how you feel, but at the wrong time. (PS: Chanyeol makes a cameo in this story and Junmyeon is an Art History major!)
Pairing: Junmyeon x Female Reader
Tags: College Student Junmyeon, Art Hoe Junmyeon, bittersweet stuff
Warnings: Mentions of suicide towards the end of the story (not in this chapter)
Word Count (in total): 8.5k
AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is my first ever story I wrote and published on here. Feel free to leave comments and I will try to publish each chapter weekly! This story is based off of a combination of dreams that I had which included people who weren’t Junmyeon and Junmyeon himself during the beginning of this whole COVID pandemic (AKA: when things began to fall apart). Like the world that I was living in at that time, this story/dream is just as (I hope to believe) chaotic. I also apologize if there are a ton of plot holes in the story because it was based on a dream and I could not think of any filler parts. Enjoy!- PS
PPS: This is the second to last part of the story and yes, I have written the entire thing already! Because of some personal stuff that I have related to work, I will not be publishing the last chapter until August 16th. I hope you all have enjoyed the work up to this point!
Read the previous parts here: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Chapter 3: Natural Delivery
Your alarm rang; it was D-day. You couldn’t believe you kissed him, the man of your dreams. You smiled even thinking about, but then a rush of sadness hit you because he was going to leave you all from today. It was 6:30 in the morning when you woke up and you could hear Junmyeon and his family starting to pack the stuff in the car and talk to one another in Korean.
Before leaving for the airport at 7 that morning, your sisters had groggily said goodbye to Junmyeon and he had given them $40 each to spend. He thanked your mother for being so kind and helpful; you and your father were in the car watching him say goodbye. You had a letter in your hand you wrote to Junmyeon before last night, explaining everything you had felt for him and gave him some pictures you two had taken at various photo booths throughout the city.
The ride was occasionally silent, except for when your father and the older Kim’s would engage in conversations about politics and asked Junmyeon about his flight details. Mr Kim played some music; “Me Gustas Tu” by GFriend blasted through the car speakers and you all (except your father, who didn’t know the song to begin with) began to sing along while you and Junmyeon did the chorus dance hand movements. It was ironic that on the day the person you liked was leaving, this was the song playing.
“Did you know our nephew was an SM trainee?” Mrs Kim asked you and your father. You both shook your heads. That explained why he was so good at dancing.
“Aunty, it was for a month,” he replied in Korean, then said: “Yeah, all I did was not get sleep and train all day for something I didn’t know if I actually wanted to do.”
You all chuckled then went silent, while watching the traffic. You sang along to the rest of the song alone, while Junmyeon looked out the window and then looked at you while you were singing.
“Y/N, you sing so good!” Mr Kim stated.
“No, I just like this song a lot, Mr Kim,” you gushed. Junmyeon smiled at you; you smiled back. Junmyeon was definitely a better singer and knowing that he was an SM trainee confirmed the reason why he was so good.
“Your pronunciation isn’t that bad, Y/N. You kinda sounded like Yuju when you sang at that moment,” Junmyeon said. You didn’t know the members' names, but you were honored.
After a few more songs and more stories from the Kims and your father, you had finally reached JFK airport. You helped Mrs Kim and your father take out the bigger luggages onto the trolley cart; Mr Kim hugged his nephew for one last time and told him he loved him and how much he was going to miss him. You watched Mr Kim sadly walk into his car and think briefly, knowing his nephew will have to go through the difficult training he went through himself, before entering the airport. While at the airport, you all decided to grab some breakfast.
Your father and Junmyeon fought on who would pay for breakfast; Junmyeon gave in and your father had paid for the quick breakfasts you all ate from the Dunkin stand.
“I’ll miss Dunkin Donuts,” he admitted as you all walked to the baggage check in stand.
“There aren’t any in Korea?” Your father asked.
“No,” Mrs. Kim and Junmyeon replied at the same time.
“There are Starbucks,” he disclosed. “They’re way better in Korea though.” You rolled your eyes, remembering the debate you two once had over this topic.
Once you reached the baggage check in, you all were no longer allowed to go with him past that. Junmyeon checked in his big bags and was given his boarding pass; the flight was at 10:30 and it was 8:00. Before walking into security, Junmyeon said his goodbyes to Mrs. Kim in Korean, thanking her for all she had done these three years. Then, he went to you.
“I will miss you a lot, probably the most out of everyone here. I said all my thank yous and I love yous last night, but I really love you and always have, I really do. Thank you for everything and I really hope to see you again. Think of me,” he said with a smile. You hugged him tightly; he was so comforting and from today, you would no longer feel that warmth. You were going to miss him deeply. Tears formed in his eyes and you all were about to cry.
“Stay safe, serve well and don’t forget to call and text us when you get there, Junmyeon.” Mrs Kim said. He walked to your father while you sipped your iced coffee and silently cried.
They both looked at one another in silence. You knew your father loved Junmyeon like his own son; they had an immediate bond. “Hey, buddy, I know we didn’t talk a lot, but I saw you make my daughter the happiest she had been in a long time. I haven't seen her smile and laugh with anyone for a while and I’m happy it was with you,” your father said. “Good luck with your service and if you ever need any help, you know where to call,” he addressed with a smile. He gave Junmyeon a big hug and they embraced briefly.
“Thank you for accepting me into your home whenever I needed help. I felt protected and welcomed by you all. And I will definitely call whenever I need your help,” Junmyeon replied to your father.
“That’s what fathers do, right?” he replied with a fatherly chuckle. You all laughed. They hugged again and he walked up to you.
“Stay safe, okay?” you said, holding his hand while thinking about last night. He assured you that he would stay safe and that he would call you as soon as he got to Korea. Both of your smiles disappeared from your faces when you let his hand go. You all looked at one another in silence.
“Hey, let’s take a picture,” you suggested. The rest of the clan agreed; you asked a young French woman to take the pictures on your dad’s cell phone. After a few pictures, Junmyeon hugged you all for one last time and walked towards security. You put his letter in your pocket and walked out of the airport alongside your father and Mrs Kim once he turned into a tiny figure in the entrance towards security.
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The ride home was overcast with sadness and silence; you cried most of the way home. You felt like you were Elio Perlman in Call Me By Your Name after Oliver had left; your father held your hand the whole way home while he looked out the window in silence. Mrs Kim tried to console you from her passenger seat as best as she could.
“That boy was like glue,” Mrs Kim said. “He brought two families together without realizing it. Thank you to the both of you and your other family members for making our nephew Junmyeon feel welcome, I really mean it. He talked about you all as passionately as he did about those art pieces he studied in school,” she continued.
“He was a special kid who made my daughter the happiest-” your father admitted. You had fallen asleep by then, while the elders continued to have a conversation about Junmyeon and based on Mr. Kim’s experiences, how his life will change after the military.
You were asleep for 30 minutes when you were awakened by a buzz coming from your pocket. It was a text message that had come from Junmyeon, but just as you were about to read it, your phone battery had run out.
“Junmyeon said he is on the plane and that he will miss us all.” Mrs Kim said; she was talking about the text she had received. You accepted that he would be gone for a long time and that you needed to live your life the same way you would if Junmyeon were there.
To pass time before you went home to live your life post-Junmyeon, you began to sing some songs in your head and one of the songs that popped up was “For Life” by EXO. You thought about the lines: “Never gonna let you go, giving you my heart and soul.” You initially heard the song in 2016, during a New Year’s Eve party your cousin Tiffany had invited you to and imagined some random celebrity as the love of your life you would pour your heart and soul for. Little did you think at that time you would ever find yourself giving up your heart and soul for someone in real life until you met him.
Another hour of traffic ensued and you fell asleep again, this time your father fell asleep as well. You could faintly hear Mrs Kim was talking to her sister in law (Junmyeon’s mother), wishing her a happy birthday, with Mr. Kim saying happy birthday as well before falling back asleep again.
By the time you woke up, Mr. Kim reached the neighborhood parking lot and after scurrying around the lot to find a spot, he parked his car next to your father’s. Just as you were all about to leave, your father’s cellphone began to ring; it was Angela. She never called your father unless it was an extreme emergency. Angela worked at the airport as a cashier at a duty free perfume shop on the weekends.
“Hello? Angela, what’s wrong?” Your father asked.
“Mr. Y/L/N, I tried calling Y/N’s phone, but she isn’t picking up and neither is Junmyeon.” you heard Angela explain through the phone.
Did he miss the flight? You thought. Your brain spiraled into a frenzy and thought of every possible situation. He spoke English very well, so he was able to understand the announcements and by now he should have flown out of New York; it was 11:00 AM and his flight left at 10:30, a half hour before. You all had left the airport at 8:30. You couldn’t hear the rest, but based on your father’s face, it was not good news.
“What happened?” Mr Kim asked your father. “Is everything okay? That Angela girl is crazy, but she would never call unless something bad really happens.”
“There’s been an accident.”
“An accident?” you asked.
Your father took a deep breath. “Angela called me to say that a plane crashed outside of JFK fifteen minutes after it went off the runway. The flight left earlier than it should have and everything was deemed as fine, but somewhere along the way, the plane’s engine started to act up and despite doing an emergency landing, the plane crashed and caught fire.” he explained
“It landed in some construction site and based on the severity of the damage and what she heard through word of mouth, it seems like no one survived the crash. She doesn’t know what flight it was yet, but she will call me and let me know.”
“Oh my god!” Mrs Kim exclaimed. “Let me call Junmyeon. Oh, I hope he is okay!” She tried calling him multiple times; it went to voicemail each time.
There was no report of bad weather today, you thought. But it did rain last night, so it might have been partially because of the weather. You felt like you were living a fever dream; you were on cloud nine twelve hours ago and now you felt the end of the world nearby.
“Honey, he already left. You can’t call him.” Mr Kim explained to his wife in Korean. Mrs Kim’s face turned pale in worry that her beloved nephew was dead the moment he was supposed to leave; Mr Kim was consoling her on the quick walk home. They both began to call everyone they knew, including your mother. You and your father were both too stunned to say anything.
Your mother and sisters had reached the Kim residence after hearing the news from Mrs Kim, and your father went to go use the bathroom. Your mother, and the Kims talked to one another frantically.
“What happened?” your youngest sister Molly had asked, sitting on the same bench where you and Junmyeon had confessed your love for one another less than 24 hours before.
“A plane crashed and we don’t know if it might have been Junmyeon’s flight,” you explained.
“Bro,” Natasha exclaimed. “You really believe Angela?”
“Angela may be strange at times, but she is not a liar,” you snapped. “This is serious, Natasha!”
They were just as stunned and by then your father had come back from the bathroom. You all prayed in silence that Junmyeon was okay and it wasn’t his flight that had gone through that tragedy.
A few moments later, the phone rang as soon as your father reached the house and you all sat on the porch in worry. It was Angela. You picked up the phone immediately, while everyone watched you in worry.
“Hello?” you uttered. She indicated that based on the information provided to her fellow employees and supervisors, the plane that had exploded was going to an Asian country, although which country and airline it was, she did not know yet. She also said that there were survivors, but did not know how many there were. After a minute’s silence, she got back on the phone and told you the flight number of the plane that had crashed.
“There is good news and bad news: There are about twenty survivors out of the 178 people on the airplane. They have, unfortunately, not found any more survivors and yes they are still looking. They are being taken to nearby hospitals as we speak and for now, all other flights have been delayed.”
Angela took a deep breath before she shared the news of the flight. She was a journalism major, so it was natural for her to deliver news, good or bad; despite her natural strangeness, she was able to successfully deliver bad news without crying and good news with a panned face. However, her voice changed, which meant it was definitely serious.
“It was Junmyeon’s flight to Seoul that crashed onto the construction site.”
Part 5 (and final part)
#exo x reader#exo imagines#exo fluff#exo smut#exo au#suho x reader#suho fanfic#suho#suho fluff#h2omyeon: suho#junmyeon x reader#junmyeon fanfiction#kpop fanfic#kpop romance#kpop au#kpop readings#fanfic#exo fanfic#exo#kpop#kim junmyeon#idol x reader#imagines
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