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lubdubsworld · 3 years

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Blackberry Winters.

Part 1

Namjoon Werewolf Au !

Alpha werewolf!

Heavy angst.! Pregnancy, unrequited love, hate to love, prejudice, mental health issues.

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There is a tide in the affairs of men, which , taken at the flood leads on to fortune. Opportunities had to be seized and made use of and you had to be bold and confident in order to lead your people to fortune.

Namjoon, as the head alpha of the Kim clan, knew this better than anyone else. Which was why he was here, in a meeting with alphas from the three neighbouring clans lining his boundary lines, hoping to get permission to access the seven or so aquifers that lay to the east of the packhouse.

The rains had been kind to them, the reservoirs were full but he wanted to make sure they had a backup plan just in case things went south in some way. His father had taught him that. Being prepared for the worst was second nature to him now. The land around the aquifers was rich and fertile and Jungkook had already let him plant tangerines and apples in the area for the little ones. The harvest was generally shared between the two clans and Namjoon was grateful for the easy camaraderie that the alpha of the land offered him.

The land belonged to alpha Jeon , a dear friend by all means and he knew that Jungkook would grant him permission as he always did . But still it was never a certainty. The council members had the final say and many of them held a grudge when he refused to marry Jungkook's sister last spring. That had been a no brainer for him. Junghee was beautiful but also like a sister to him, besides being incredibly intelligent. He didn't need a wife like that. And that was why he had picked, Jiah.

Sighing, Namjoon glanced back at the campsite where the women were gathered, sitting in small groups and laughing around a blazing fire while a few alphas hung about roasting meat and passing out moats of wine around . His eyes fell on his wife, timid and shy , sitting away from the rest and regret churned. He had been impulsive. She was ill suited to be his wife , and the last three months had been a bitter wake up call. Namjoon was well read, eloquent and bold. His wife was barely illiterate, with a stutter and shifty eyes that never met anyone's gaze head on.

He had chosen her because she had seemed docile and pliant and while she was definitely that, she was also ....at the risk of sounding rude and unkind, very very boring.

A simpleton. She seemed to know nothing about anything, content to disappear into the shadows, to hide and hang back and practically become one with the upholstery when he asked her to sit next to him.

It had been three months and they had barely spoken beyond a dozen words. It was awkward and stilted and just plain uncomfortable, sleeping with her. Sex was supposed to fun and passionate and filled with excitement and desire but with her , it was a chore he couldn't wait to cross off his list.

Leaning back against one of the poles holding up the makeshift tent, he watched her as she scooted away from one of the older omegas in the Jeon clan, the lady looking startled at the reaction. He shook his head in despair. He hadn't even wanted to bring her along but his mother had insisted. Something about her being young and innocent, too shy to stay behind with strangers for two whole weeks while he traveled to the Jeon's .

How was he supposed to explain that they were strangers as well ? That despite the label of mates, despite the fact that he had been the one to choose her, he felt nothing for her? Not even the idle curiosity one felt for strangers?

It was partly her demeanour, but mostly her appearance. She wasn't well groomed and it always made him frown. He had hoped that she would at least keep herself presentable, maybe hire the weavers to make her a few new tunics .

Something colorful and patterned like the ones the other omegas wore during festivities. The Kim clan had a lucrative fabric trade with the Min pack , and Yoongi and Hoseok always kept the most luxurious and vibrant silks and fabrics for him.

Jiah had shown a brief and fleeting interest in the luxurious threads, when his mother had brought her along to the tailor to get her wedding trousseau done....but the moment the young beta had asked her questions about her likes and dislikes, she had recoiled and went back into her shell. Namjoon had watched the whole scene, annoyance growing with every passing second. He wanted her to be pliant but also independent. Low maintenance . But apparently he would have to hold her hand through everything.

And that's when he'd begun to actively distance himself from his wife. He didn't have the time nor inclination to help her navigate her new life. He was busy, what with autumn coming to an end and the first chills of winter already beginning to permeate the air. The betas and alphas in the pack were already occupied with hunting enough meat to last them the winter, the women busy with curing the meat with spices and salt.....

He should have left her behind with them.

" A coin for your thoughts, Alpha Kim?"

Kim Jisoo came to stand by him, her scent of floral dust and vanilla cloyingly sweet on his senses. She had helped him with many a rut and he had always nurtured a sweet spot for the omega who was well versed in many languages. She was also one of the courtesans they had brought along for the evening entertainment. Jisoo slipped her hands through his arm and he smiled, letting her brush close to his torso.

His gaze went to his wife, who was staring at him, eyes blank and lips parted softly. She looked a little upset.

Which was understandable but still annoying. They weren't in love or anything and he wasn't cheating on her. Jisoo was a friend. He was allowed to have those. Jiah had no right to look at him with suspicion or with entitlement. He didn't owe her all her time. He wondered if she would react if he were to confront her now. As it is , he let himself stare right at her, half wishing that she would talk back to him.

But the moment their eyes met, Jiah looked away, entire body shifting as though in embarassment. He frowned , but lightly patted the soft fingers curled on his arm. He turned to Jisoo with a smile, taking in the pretty elfin features. The perfectly curled hair , threaded with gold and jeweler pins fell in soft ropes around her face, her lips tinted red and her cheeks brushed rose. She looked enchanting and unreal and he felt his blood stir in arousal, the need to feel her under him suddenly overwhelming.

He glanced back at Jiah and she looked a little green , her face ashen. His eyes narrowed when she shifted and looked around in a mild panic. Oh God, what was it now?

Irritable, he gently pulled away from the beautiful omega next to him.

" Excuse me, dear. I need to check on my wife." He said apologetically and she frowned staring at where he was looking.

"What's wrong?" Jisoo asked sharply but he ignored her, already moving to his mate.

Which was just as well, because the moment he reached her, her eyes rolled back and she toppled right into his arms.

She had fainted .

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" I'm sorry we had to cut this short but I hope your mate feels better soon, hyung." Jungkook's voice was laced with genuine concern and Namjoon nodded, hugging the younger alpha tight.

Junghee looked just as sympathetic, next to him.

" She'll be fine . I tried to get her to stay but she's been panicking a lot and refuses to let any of the healers here examine her. I think she'll be more comfortable with your pack healer. " She said gently.

Namjoon nodded, glancing back at Jiah who sat side-saddle on one of the smaller ponies, her eyes wide and face still ashen. He had tried to tell her it would be okay , but she had insisted on going home. The stark terror on her face had unsettled him deeply. He didn't know why she was so scared of the Jeon healer? Could it be because he was a man? Whatever the reason she hadn't let him examine her and because he couldn't ask her to just forget about the whole thing ( he was still head alpha , he still had to set an example as a caring mate. ) Namjoon had been forced to arrange for their return back home.

He had left Seokjin and Taehyung behind to carry the talks on his behalf, and Jisoo stood a few dozen feet away looking annoyed as he gave her

an apologetic smile.

The journey back to the Main village would be a couple of days and he had packed enough food for the both of them.

As he turned back to mount his stallion, he caught a glimpse of her face as she stared at him.

She looked lost , apologetic and clearly upset.

And he wondered if he would have to spend the rest of his life reading her face, trying to figure her out.

He has no interest in either.

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The journey became incredibly tiring, especially when the skies opened up on them. Rain Lashed the ground , intent on soaking the earth and Namjoon watched her shiver, trembling as they all huddled beneath the shade of some trees, blankets wrapped tight around her thin torso. Why was she so thin? Why did she look at food like it was poisoned?

They were only a mile from home but had to stop, the deluge was far too strong for the animals to see ahead of them.

Namjoon himself sat next to an omega from the clan. He recognised her as one of the maids his mother had given to Jiah.

" Is your mistress doing well?" He asked gruffly and the omega startled, bowing twice in respect before answering.

"I...she ... She doesn't say much, alpha." The girl blushed under his gaze, looking away nervously and he frowned, glancing back at Jiah.

So it wasn't just him, then. She didn't trust anyone. He stared at her till she felt the heat of his gaze and looked up, eyes wide like a startled bird, like one of the starlings that nested in the wooden beams of his hut. She looked surprised, then terrified, eyes darting away at once and he tried not to growl in sheer frustration.

He wondered if it was because of his face.

Namjoon had no large feelings about his looks but he knew he was far from beautiful. ( A/N : A whole lie , I know but please bear with me for the story :*) it was one of the reasons he had wanted a plain looking bride. But perhaps his own chosen mate had , had dreams of marrying a very handsome man? Perhaps she had been infatuated with someone like that , from the clan?

It wasn't a far fetched idea. But still, she had been free to refuse his proposal. When he had first met the clan's watchkeeper, old man Gong in the humble hut on the outer borders of the pack land, he had made it clear that it wasn't some kind of order. She was free to refuse.

But she hadn't.

She had merely bowed and agreed and promptly appeared with a satchel full of her things and followed him back to his own home.

So why did she continue to act like she was here against her will?

It irked him no end.

As the skies cleared, they began their trek again and Namjoon pushed thoughts of her out of his mind. He had to plan for the winter, make sure there was enough food and also make sure they had enough herbs and liniments and oils in the apothecary. Mind drifting off to the countless things he was responsible for, Namjoon forgot all about his awkward mate and the reason they were going back home in the first place.

Which is why, when they reached home and he took his bath, cleaning himself up and finally settling down to some delicious food from the kitchens , his mother's words made him drop the chopsticks in shock.

" She is with child."

Namjoon stared at his mother in complete shock.

Fuck.

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Authors Note : I had this idea and just had to write it. Hope you guys enjoyed it.

#werewolf namjoon drabbles

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doeilovr · 3 years

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Turn Back Time

-> Pairing: Lee Taeyong x femReader, special guest Kim Doyoung

-> Genre: Angst, Idol Taeyong au, Cheating au, break up au, a bit of smut (like 1 paragraph)

-> Warnings: cheating, cursing, suggestive themes, mention of sex, physical violence, self doubt

-> Summary: And it was moments like this you wished you could turn back time, to make him stop hurting you. Taeyong was your world and all you ever wished for was to be his too.

-> Words: 2.6 k

Disclaimer: this is not how Lee Taeyong is at all! This is merely fiction! Cheating is also not okay, just be kind, people and love truthfully!

You knew something had changed, when you heard Taeyong walk into your shared bedroom.

He was out late again, working on choreography and writing lyrics at the studio.

A month ago he would have cuddled up to you in bed, pecking you on the cheek, before he would fall asleep with his arms wrapped around your body.

But he had stopped doing that and just got into bed as silently as possible, trying not to wake you up. You were awake though. Thinking about what had changed between you two.

In the morning you would get up before him, staring at him sleeping peacefully in your bed, regretting whatever you did wrong.

You were making breakfast for the both of you when Taeyong joined you in the kitchen, his blonde hair messy and his eyes sleepy.

“Good morning”, you smiled at him, tempted to stroke his hair. Taeyong’s cold expression brought you back to reality. “Morning”, he mumbled, grabbing an apple from the counter.

You wanted to tell him you made breakfast for him, but he was faster. “I’m going to the studio. It’ll be late, no need to wait for me”, he announced, not waiting for an answer and disappearing back into the bedroom.

Your stomach twisted, you just couldn’t understand what you did wrong. You weren’t even hungry anymore, putting the freshly cooked food in the fridge for another time.

You were determined to win Taeyong back, even if you didn’t know why you had lost him on the first place. Maybe he got tired of you because you never surprised him. Maybe he wanted you to be more spontaneous. With these thoughts in mind you bought coffee and made your way to the studio.

You entered the recording studio, knowing Taeyong was alone, as it was late already. He stood in the recording booth, practicing some random verses. He looked good, wearing a white tee and ripped black jeans. His blonde hair was messy, as he was constantly running his fingers through it.

To be honest, he just looked tired.

Your breath hitched in your throat, when he locked eyes with you. Taeyong put down the headphones and stepped out of the booth.

“What are you doing here?” He walked past you, pressing some buttons on the computer.

“I brought you coffee”, you smiled, placing the Americano down next to him. Taeyong side eyed you, noticing your black coat. You felt his hot gaze on your body, making your cheeks flush.

“Yeah, actually I’m not just here for that.” Carefully you pushed Taeyong down on the leather chair behind him. He let you guide him, intently watching your every move.

You placed a kiss to his soft lips, before you grabbed his hand, guiding it to open up your coat. It had been a while since you last kissed and you had missed him. The feeling of his lips against yours. Taeyong watched you with intense eyes, opening the coat to reveal a set of white lingerie.

You had bought it just for him and felt nervous to show yourself like this, since it had been a while you two last had sex. Or just any other intimate interaction.

You sat down on his lap, your eyes never leaving his face. Taeyong gulped visibly, before you placed another kiss on his lips, this time using your tongue. His hands roamed around your body and his member twitched beneath you. Fuck, he felt so good.

Your hand traveled down his chest, all the way to the button of his jeans. You stroked him through the fabric, making him inhale sharply. “I want you, Taeyong”, you whispered, a sudden desperation in your voice.

There was a flicker in Taeyong’s dark eyes, his hand moving to yours and grabbing it quickly. Just when you thought you got through to him, he removed your hand from his crotch, pushing you off his lap.

You stepped back, watching him with sad eyes. Did he really not love you anymore?

Taeyong got up, cursing under his breath. “Don’t fucking do that”, he mumbled, his eyes moving quickly.

“Taeyong-“, you tried to reach out to him, but he moved past you and got back into the recording booth. You felt so vulnerable, closing the jacket and hugging yourself.

Was that it? Was that how you broke up with him? Why couldn’t he just explain himself or at least talk to you? You wiped away a tear that threatend to run down your cheek and left the room.

In a quick pace you moved down the long corridor, making your way to the exit, while trying to calm down. On your way around a corner you bumped into someone’s chest.

“Y/n?” Doyoung smiled down at you. You greeted him quickly and hoped he wouldn’t notice your glistening eyes.

“Are you here for Taeyong?” You started shaking your head vigorously, trying to smile back at him, but you looked rather awkward.

“I’m on my way out, actually.” Doyoung’s smile faded a bit. He just knew you too well, sensing that there was something wrong.

“Everything alright?” He furrowed his brows. “Yeah, don’t worry. I’m just tired”, you waved your hand around. “I’ll get going now, see you around.” Doyoung nodded, waving goodbye to you and watching you walk away.

Something for sure wasn’t right. You didn’t look happy at all. And Doyoung wondered why?

Back home you cried yourself to sleep. You loved Taeyong too much, how could he so easily turn away from you? That night he didn’t come home at all.

You just got out of the shower the next evening, when Taeyong texted you. You hadn’t heard from him the whole day and felt beyond disappointed. He could have so easily talked to you, but he chose to ignore you. “I’m out with the boys”, the text read. You didn’t reply and went on with getting ready for bed.

You were lying awake for way too long now, taking a glance at the clock to see it was not even midnight yet. Your phone suddenly rang, it was Doyoung.

“Hey y/n”, he greeted.

“Doyoung.” You often talked over the phone like this, but it had become less and less after Taeyong distanced himself from you. You felt weird being around his friends without him, which was stupid to be honest, as they all seemed to like you a lot.

“I didn’t wake you up, did I?” He gasped a little, probably just now realizing how late it was.

You chuckled. “No, don’t worry.” It felt good to talk to him again. “Are you also at the club?” You were curious. Honestly you just wanted to know if Taeyong had maybe talked to them about you. Who knows, maybe he was more talkative with them than with you.

“What do you mean? Who’s at the club”, he asked confused.

You chuckled nervously. “Taeyong told me he was out with you guys.”

Doyoung was quiet for a moment. “No. Taeyong did go out, but not with any of us. He went out with Jia, she’s collaborating with him, I don’t know.”

Your heart sank and you sat up in your bed, turning on the lamp. “What”, you mumbled. “Which club?”

“Pretty sure they went to Octagon. Is everything okay, y/n? You know you can tell me”, Doyoung reminded you softly.

You bit down on your lips, emotions washing over you. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m going back to sleep now”, you lied. Doyoung didn’t ask any further questions and said his goodbye before hanging up.

You sighed, dropping the phone on the bed. Taeyong lied to you. He had lied. But why? Did he cheat on you? Was he cheating on you right now?

He was. In the past week, while you were waiting at home, doubting yourself and everything you ever did wrong, he was with Jia. So he was now. In the club, dancing and making out with her, trying to get you out of his head.

That’s how you found yourself standing in front of the club the same hour. Dressed in a pair of jeans and a sweater. To your luck, Doyoung showed up too, knowing damn well something wasn’t right. He got you in the club and searched for Taeyong with you.

When you finally spotted him you didn’t feel shocked or mad. No. You were sad. Sad, disappointed and broken-hearted. You still loved this man after all, even if you saw him cheating right here and in front of your eyes.

“Y/n”, Doyoung mumbled, following your gaze to Taeyong. Despite the loud music you could hear him clearly. Doyoung couldn’t believe his eyes either. Taeyong was cheating with Jia. His best friend was cheating on his other best friend.

Fuck.

“You knew?” Doyoung stared at you wide eyed, feeling nothing but empathy.

You nodded, tears prickling in your eyes. Seeing him make out with her so easily made you feel sick. You never thought Taeyong was able to hurt you like this.

You always thought the best of him. He was so caring. You didn’t know where it went wrong, but suddenly he treated you like you were the worst person ever. He replaced you and seemed to not even feel bad about it.

Walking towards Taeyong your steps felt heavy. You couldn’t lie to yourself any longer, he didn’t love you anymore. He hurt you and you wanted him to know that.

Stopping in front of him you waited until Taeyong caught your figure next to him, immediately staring at you with wide eyes. He almost pushed Jia back, startling her, before she also noticed you standing there.

Unlike him, she didn’t look fazed at all. You wondered if she even knew you were his girlfriend. You barely held back your tears and your voice was shaky.

“Whatever I did to you, I’m honestly sorry. I hope you’re fucking happy now.” You stopped for a second, taking in Taeyong’s face one more time, his shocked expression.

Quickly you disappeared in the crowd, making your way to the exit, Doyoung running behind you. As you got out of the club, the fresh air hit your face. Hot tears fell down your cheeks, as you slowly walked down the alley.

Doyoung came up next to you. “Are you okay”, he mumbled, putting a hand on your shoulder. You didn’t look okay. And he hated seeing you this broken.

Another voice called your name and you both turned around to find Taeyong angrily walking up to you. “Y/n”, he shouted.

He looked so angry and for what reason. Doyoung quickly stepped between the two of you. “Taeyong, fucking leave her alone”, he shouted, but Taeyong only pushed him to the side.

“You fucking knew”, he shouted at you and you stepped back, scared. “What sick game are you playing”, he added.

Now you got angry too, poking his chest with your index finger angrily. “I defended you all this time. I made up stupid excuses for you and your behavior, when you didn’t even have the guts to talk to me. This is so fucking low Taeyong, even for you”, you shouted back.

“Please, you’re obsessed with me. You even show up in the same fucking club, knowing I’m with someone else. You’re a pathetic bitch.” You saw the change of expression in his eyes as soon as he said the last words.

“Y/n-“ his face softened and he tried to reach out for you, but you quickly interrupted him, slapping him across his face.

Out of reflex, Taeyong shoved you to the ground and you landed on your butt. You gasped, finding yourself sitting on the cold asphalt. Taeyong realized what he just did and wanted to help you up, but Doyoung had already rushed to you side.

“Y/n are you okay?” Doyoung grabbed your hand. You couldn’t help but burst out in tears, letting Doyoung help you up. “Please take me home”, you whispered and he quickly nodded.

Taeyong watched you two walk away, Doyoung sending him a death glare as you both turned around.

He couldn’t believe how far he had went. He hated himself so much for hurting you. He had hurt you with cheating and now he had even hurt you physically. Taeyong never wanted this to happen either. He had been tired for a long time, stopped giving you attention and touching you. But you did the same.

When Jia came to the studio, flirting non stop, he just let her. He would mindlessly fuck her until you would give him attention again. But when the time came around and you did, he had grown tired of you, too.

He hated himself and he had projected it onto you until he hated you too.

You thanked Doyoung at the entrance to your apartment, watching him drive off with the taxi, before you entered the building. Unlocking the door, you walked inside, immediately aiming for the bedroom, just wanting to go to sleep.

You were shocked seeing Taeyong in your room, examining a picture of you two together. He turned around, looking at you. For the first time in weeks he looked as sad as you. As hurt as you.

“Y/n can we talk, please”, he asked gently, moving towards you.

“It’s too late, Taeyong.”

“I love you so much”, a tear rolled down his cheek.

“No, you don’t. If you love someone you don’t ignore them, or hurt them or cheat on them. You hate me Taeyong. And I don’t even know why”, your voice cracked before you could finish your sentence.

“No, y/n. I don’t hate you.” He stepped closer again, taking a hold of your hand. “I hated myself so much. I was so sick and tired of everything. I let it all out on you. And I’m honestly so sorry. I love you so much, please.”

You cried more, your heart hurting in your chest. His fingers stroked over the back of your hand, a feeling you had been longing for for such a long time.

“You cheated on me, Taeyong”, you whispered.

He nodded, pressing his lips together, to hold back tears. “I don’t have any feelings for her. Please, y/n. Believe me, please.”

“It hurts, Taeyong. I gave you my heart and you threw it away just like that.”

Taeyong’s other hand moved to cup your face, wiping away the tear that had left your eye. “I didn’t. My heart belongs to you, you’re the love of my life.” He paused, breath shaky. “I have no excuse. Cheating on you was wrong in so many ways. I started because I thought I would find my love for you again. But fuck, I realized it was never gone in the first place. I never want to hurt you again, y/n.”

You cried out one more time, before stepping forward and hugging Taeyong tightly. He immediately pulled you closer, rubbing your back and kissing your head.

“I love you so much”, he whispered over and over again.

After a while, you pulled away from him again, sniffling and wiping your tears away.

Taeyong was all you had and wanted, but his actions scarred you deeply. You looked up at him, pecking his lips softly. It was lovely moments like this you wanted to last forever.

And it was moments like this you wished you could turn back time, to make him stop hurting you. Taeyong was your world and all you ever wished for was to be his too.

But sometimes it’s not meant to be. You would find someone else, someone that would love and appreciate you, even if times were tough.

And maybe one day you’d be someone’s world. And maybe Taeyong would be someone else’s.

a/n: I rewrote this so many times lol I hope you enjoy it. It was my first attempt on smut so please bear with me. I’d also appreciate any feedback <3

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five-rivers · 4 years

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Adoption (part 2)

A gift for @a-flower-lover! This wound up being more along the lines of vignettes... Little snapshots into Danny’s life after being adopted by Clockwork. I hope that’s ok! (PART 1)

Mr. Lancer had met Charles Worth before, albeit briefly. The man had fostered a number of Casper High students and with that responsibility came parent-teacher conferences. He had struck Mr. Lancer as being steady and reliable, if, perhaps, impersonal, despite his predilection for clocks and ominous announcements. A decent foster parent, if not... ideal.

Mr. Worth just didn't seem to connect with his fosters, although he certainly didn't neglect them. Then, too, were the persistent rumors that his home was haunted.

Alright. So, Mr. Lancer didn't think Charles Worth was really a children person. Oh, he was a good person! It took one to do well as a foster parent, but... yeah.

Which was why the scene in front of him surprised him so much. Not the who of it, but the what.

The who was Daniel Fenton and Charles Worth waiting outside the office. The what was smiling and having a conversation. True, Mr. Fenton's smile looked like it was pasted on over several layers of anxiety, but it was genuine.

"Mr. Worth, Mr. Fenton?" he said, tamping down his surprise. "Come on in."

"Hi," said Mr. Fenton, his voice hoarse.

Mr. Worth smiled and nodded, pushing him up with his cane.

But Mr. Fenton must have noticed the curious look Mr. Lancer was giving him. "I knew Cl- Uh. Mr. Worth before this." He winced and smiled widely to cover it up. "So, uh, make up work? Since I missed the past week?"

"Yes, well, circumstances being what they are," aka his parents trying to murder him in public, in broad daylight (and didn't that give Mr. Lancer a chill?), "your teachers have put together a few packets for you to look over this weekend. They should get you more or less up to speed with where your classes are. I'm also willing to stay after school, to help you with anything you've missed in my classes."

Jazz knocked on the door of the Worth house. She had been made aware, via various supernatural (she did not particularly appreciate writing suddenly appearing on her fogged-up bathroom mirror) and mundane (Danny did have her phone number) means, that the man known as Charles Worth was actually the ghost known as Clockwork.

How this had occurred was not entirely clear to her. She assumed ghost powers, specifically time travel, were involved somehow.

But, to be honest, that didn't really matter to her. It was secondary, less than.

What was important here was that she hadn't been legally allowed to see her little brother in over a month. To keep her parents from contacting him. To keep her from letting her parents near him. Because they were legally barred from seeing him.

Because they had tried to kill him.

Jazz planned on never seeing her parents again, as soon as she got all of her and Danny's things from their house.

But now that prohibition had been lifted, because Clockwork had forced through what had to be the speediest adoption in the history of adoptions, and Danny was now legally his son. In the eyes of both humans and ghosts. Which was... Well. Danny seemed to be excited about it, anyway. He'd looked up to Clockwork for a while, from what he told Jazz.

Internally, Jazz had more than a bit of trepidation. She didn't know what adoption meant to ghosts, didn't have any context for it. And ghosts, even the good ones, even Danny, tended to be... obsessive. Extreme. She wasn't sure how that would translate when it came to interpersonal relationships.

The door creaked open, ever so slowly, the squeak it made grating on her eardrums. At first, it appeared to have opened on its own, then a hand gripped the edge of the door, and Clockwork, in human guise, leaned out from behind it.

Jazz raised an eyebrow.

Clockwork raised one right back. "This house is haunted, you know," he said.

Okay, never mind. The only thing she had to worry about was the fact that her brother and his mentor both had terrible senses of humor.

"Hi, Jazz!"

Being used to having a half-ghost brother, Jazz only yelped a little bit at his unexpected appearance behind her. Then she sighed and ruffled his hair. He hugged her and then bounced over the lintel into the house.

"Come on! I want to show you my room! It's so cool!" His voice became fainter as he went farther into the house, until his last exclamation was an eerie whisper.

Jazz looked at Clockwork as she stepped inside. "Is he doing that on purpose?"

Clockwork smiled blandly. "I am very fond of the acoustics in this house."

She looked at her surroundings with a skeptical eye. "It seems... dark in here."

"We are ghosts," said Clockwork. "Daniel is very excited to show you his room, by the way."

"He's human, too, don't forget," said Jazz.

"I won't."

The house was creepy.

Really creepy.

This was coming from someone who had spent most of her life living under the same roof as two ghost-obsessed mad scientists.

But Danny seemed to enjoy it, and he was the one living here. It wasn't like there was anything wrong with the house. Or anything in the house. It was just... off.

Danny was half-ghost, however, so maybe this was something he needed. Perhaps not all of his peppiness could be attributed to being the heck away from his murderous former parents.

Even so. Jazz had a duty, both as a big sister and an aspiring psychologist.

"I already read it," said Clockwork, setting a cup of tea down in front of her.

"What?"

"The book you were about to give me. I've already read it. And a number of others. I am not the kind of person who goes into things unprepared."

Danny rolled into the kitchen on the ceiling. This was easy to ignore. After her life, an Exorcist reference made by her over-excited younger brother, was, well. Underwhelming.

(Okay, she was a little distracted, but only by his glee.)

"Well," she said. "That's good."

"I know this house is out of the way," said Clockwork, craning his neck to look up at his coworker, "but you are rather conspicuous."

"Hm. Am I?" asked Pandora, craning her neck down to look at her comparatively tiny colleague.

"Yes. At that size, humans with average eyesight will be able to see you from town."

Pandora looked out over the trees. "Interesting," she said, mildly. "Do you think the ghost hunters will come?"

"You've spoken to Daniel."

"Yes. He stopped by earlier today, on his way to visit Mattingly. Although, I suppose you knew that already."

"Indeed I did. May I ask, is it your intention to lure the ghost hunters here, fight them, defeat them, and then leave them just close enough to here to constitute a breach of their terms of bail and the restraining order against them?"

"I am not terribly well-versed in human law," said Pandora, "but, why, yes. That is exactly what I'm doing. Best to get it done while Daniel is visiting friends, isn't it?"

"Yes. If you had done this while he was here, I would be significantly more annoyed." Clockwork smiled the sanguine smile of a parental figure who would commit murder if their child was upset.

Pandora returned a matching grin, one that promised retribution against persons who had harmed said child in the past. "Please, Clockwork. You know me better than that. I wouldn't subject him to being in the presence of those fools."

"Good," said Clockwork, eyes glinting.

"Hey, Clockwork? Do you know why there were police cars driving down the- Oh. Hello?" He stopped at the sight of an unfamiliar woman sitting at the dinning room table, next to Clockwork. He blinked and tilted his head to the side. "Wait. Pandora?"

"Perceptive," said the superficially human olive-skinned woman. "You seemed so happy when you stopped by, earlier. I thought I would come check in on you."

"You didn't have to," said Danny, beaming.

"Pandora has been trying to convince me to set her up as one of my relatives," said Clockwork, rolling his eyes. "Would you care for a cup of tea, Daniel?"

"Umm," said Danny, dubiously. "I'll try one, I guess. Does that mean you'll be my aunt?"

Pandora smiled. "Why, yes, it does."

Clockwork groaned theatrically.

"Ah," said Mr. Lancer, at the next parent-teacher conference. "Are you Mr. Worth's wife?"

"No," said Pandora, grinning. "I'm his sister."

Mr. Lancer looked back and forth between the two very different-looking entities. "I... see."

"We're adopted," said Clockwork.

"Oh! Alright then. Now, about Daniel..."

It was a bit strange to see Danny with so much energy, Sam reflected. Strange, but good.

It just went to show how drained he had become over time, how much the constant ghost attacks and worry, all the lies and stress and impossible expectations had worn away at him over time. She hadn't seen her friend this happy since freshman year. If that.

On the other hand...

"Dude," said Tucker. "Your house is spooky. And this is coming from someone who's been inside a literal mad science lab."

Danny rolled his eyes. "Mad science labs are campy, not spooky. Besides, you knew coming in that this house was haunted." He draped himself over the back of the couch, rolling until he was 'sitting' upside-down. "Anyway, what kind of movie do you want to watch? We've got a bunch, because Clockwork apparently collects media from doomed timelines."

"He's got a hobby?" asked Sam.

"Yeah, three," said Danny. "Gardening- you should talk to him about that, by the way, I think he'd like it- baking, and alternate timeline movies. And some books, too, I think. He's got a huge library back in Long Now. I've read like. Two books from it."

Clockwork's voice floated in from the other room. "You've read significantly more than that, Daniel."

"I guess," said Danny, doubtfully. He flopped off the couch, picked himself up, and started prodding at a shelf of movies. "This is from a timeline where the Earth got beaned by a massive asteroid. It's, like, a romcom, but it was made when everyone knew the asteroid was coming. This one is, uh, this is actually a dramatization of real events, apparently, but their timeline split from ours in like the fifties, so the events are pretty wild." He waved the DVD at them. "It's surreal?"

"How'd they die?" asked Tucker.

"Wacky superscience. No, really. Irradiated the entire planet."

"How do you know?" asked Sam.

"Oh, Clockwork puts notes on the boxes. He thinks it's interesting. And there does seem to be some correlation between how cursed the movies are and how bad the timeline was. Which maybe shouldn't surprise me? I mean, if they were bad timelines..." He shrugged. "Oh, this is a CGI Lion King. I can tell you: very cursed. Absolutely soulless. And this is from a timeline where copyright laws weren't changed, so Mickey Mouse and a bunch of other stuff was in the public domain."

"Isn't that a good timeline?" joked Sam.

"You'd think so," agreed Danny. "But apartheid in South Africa apparently never stopped, and they got a nuclear bomb, and, well... World War Three."

"Is that like, a domino effect, or...?"

"I'm not sure... Anyway. Uh. Genre?" He clapped his hands together.

Tucker leaned forward. "I want the wildest version of the Matrix you have."

"Ooh, good choice. There are, like, six with Will Smith. I haven't watched them all yet, but I think the one where they've got another sequel and Zion is also a- Wait, I shouldn't spoil it."

"After that, can you see if there's a non-crappy version of Dracula?" asked Sam.

"Sure. I haven't seen one yet, but I will look."

"I have popcorn," said Clockwork, entering the room, "and various baked goods. No dairy."

"You're the best."

Clockwork selected a thick blanket from the chest, then teleported himself to the living room to drape it over the three teenagers passed out on the couch. Overall, he found pretending to be human oddly enjoyable, but it could be trying at times. Tedious. All the finicky little motions humans had to go through to do the simplest of things added up over the day.

So, Clockwork tended to ease off of them when no one was watching. It made life easier.

Heh. Life.

(He would say that Daniel's puns were rubbing off on him, but in truth Clockwork's sense of humor had been like that for, well. Eons.)

He put the kitchen in order with an absent wave of his hand, and double-checked the stove out of habit. It wasn't nearly as good as his actual oven, back in Long Now, but it was serviceable.

One of Daniel's friends mumbled in their sleep, and Clockwork looked in on them. Still peaceful. It was good for Daniel to have them here. Beneficial for both his human and ghost halves.

He hummed to himself and patted Daniel's head as he thought about their plans for the weekend. He had arranged for some truly aggravating evangelical missionaries to darken their doorstep. It would do Daniel good to inspire a touch of terror. In an entirely controlled and risk-free way, of course. No matter how unpleasant the people coming were, Clockwork had no intention of harming them, or suggesting anything of the sort.

But, well. They were ghosts. Being feared was soothing.

(Clockwork knew this wasn't what Jasmine meant when she suggested Clockwork engage in family bonding activities with Daniel. But what she didn't know...)

"I think my teeth are getting sharper," said Danny, pulling a face at the mirror. "Is that normal?" The last was shouted, to get Clockwork's attention. Intellectually, Danny knew he didn't need to do that, but a lifetime of habit was hard to shake.

"It is difficult to say what is normal for someone like you, but many ghosts do have fangs," said Clockwork. "Including myself."

"Hm," said Danny. "This isn't, like, a ghost puberty thing, is it? Because I already used up most of my evil puberty jokes."

"Oh, only most?" Clockwork slid behind him and started rubbing the tension out of his shoulders.

Danny shrugged. "Eh, give or take. But, seriously."

"No, it isn't a ghost puberty thing."

"Oh, good. Because dealing with one puberty is more than enough."

Clockwork was silent. Danny looked up and met troubled eyes in the mirror.

"Clockwork?"

"Daniel," started Clockwork, before giving Danny an uneasy smile. "Speaking of puberty..."

Danny blanched. "No."

"What?"

"No. Nope. Not doing the talk today, no sir. I got that at school."

"Daniel, as strange as Casper High may be at times, I highly doubt they taught you anything about immortality."

"What."

"It's why ghosts put so much forethought into relationships like this," explained Clockwork, careful not to look directly at Daniel's hiding place. "They might last forever. I certainly hope this one does."

"But I don't want to be a teenager forever!" wailed Danny. He had mastered the art of making his voice sound like it was coming from a completely different direction than it actually was.

Clockwork was older than human civilization and had been worshiped as a god by several civilizations. He did not wince at the heartbreak in his child's voice.

"Your shapeshifting abilities should come in after a few years," said Clockwork. "You'll be able to pass as older."

Daniel answered with a moan.

"I must confess, I'm not sure why you are so upset about this. I can see that you are, but could you explain why for me?"

"I don't knoooooowww..."

"I don't want everyone to die and leave me alone," admitted Danny, hunched over a carton of ice cream. "I don't want to see my- my people die." He sniffled.

"We don't have to stay in Amity Park if you don't want to," said Clockwork.

Danny shook his head. "No! That's worse," he said, hating how his voice tilted into a whine. "That's- I can't abandon them! I can't- can't miss their time. I just..." He let out a huff of air. "It's hard."

Clockwork wrapped an arm around Daniel's shoulders. "It may not help much," he said, "but people in Amity Park have a much higher chance of becoming ghosts. It's the ectoplasm in the air."

"Promise?" asked Danny.

"Promise. Although, who, exactly, becomes a ghost is outside of my control. All I can tell you is that the people here have a better chance."

Danny leaned against Clockwork. "Thanks," he mumbled. "Clockwork?"

"Yes?"

"You don't think I'm a freak, do you?"

"Of course not."

Mr. Lancer squinted down at Daniel Fenton's latest assignment with a mix of appreciation, disbelief, and shame. This was easily the best work he had ever received from Daniel. In fact, it rivaled papers he had received from Jasmine.

It made him wonder- How long had Daniel been suffering? What had Daniel been suffering? He was no expert when it came to abuse, but all teachers had some training, and he knew that abusers tended to escalate, starting with something relatively innocuous and ending with a travesty. For things to progress to attempted murder... What had it started as? When had it begun?

(Could Mr. Lancer have stopped it?)

(That question would haunt him more than any ghost.)

Well, there was a silver lining to this, Mr. Lancer supposed. He had rarely seen two people who got along as well as Daniel and Charles Worth. It was good, he thought, for the man to have someone in his life on a more permanent basis, rather than the revolving door of temporary foster children.

How rapidly the adoption went through was a little odd, but... Mr. Lancer shrugged. Undoubtedly, Mr. Worth had taken the time over his years as a foster parent to familiarize himself with the system, and with Daniel's former parents unfit to be anywhere near children...

He shrugged again and stamped Daniel's paper with an A+.

#danny phantom #gift #prize #winner #fic #phanfiction

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delimeful · 4 years

Text

taking the fall (1)

BTHB: Framed

decided to return to my borrower roots for this BTHB prompt! it was fun to work in a 'verse like this again.

warnings: snakes, injury, captivity, janus being a little bit of a prick, using 'it' for a person

Virgil should have known something was up from the moment Roman wasn’t there to greet him at their normal rendezvous point.

It was a little alcove between the roots of a sapling on the border between the oversized apartment building and the small forest Virgil called home. The perfect compromise for soft insiders that were terrified of local wildlife and outies like him that wouldn’t be caught dead in a human building.

He’d waited there for about two marks after their normal arranged meeting time, and when someone had finally arrived, he’d been on the brink of irritability. It hadn’t lasted long, not in the face of the other borrower’s clear panic and weariness.

“What’s going on?” he’d asked, and was then treated to a rambling, half-incoherent explanation about how Roman was desperately sick and hurt, and they couldn’t find any human medicine but they knew he had to have something up his sleeve, right?

He’d tried to ask for symptoms, make it clear that he would have to figure out exactly how sick Roman was before finding the necessary herbs to treat it, but the other borrower-- what was her name? Elli? Ari?-- was persistent and desperate, and hurried him into the apartment despite his protests. He’d even had to leave his spear behind to fit in the walls properly.

Despite his complaints, he wouldn’t leave a friend in need just because they were stuck in a bean’s walls. So he went, and he was so intent on mentally taking stock of his current medicine supply that he only barely noticed when the insider-- Mari? That sounded closer.-- led him to a crack in the wallpaper that led directly into one of the human’s homes.

He’d dug in his heels there, but only for as long as it took her to weave a story about Roman being stuck under a television stand and too weak to be towed back to the nearest exit. Like an idiot, he’d believed it, too consumed with worry to question her further. If Roman, master of putting up a facade of bravado, had admitted he didn’t think he could make it to an exit, things were worse than he thought.

He’d swallowed down his nerves about being so out of his comfort zone in the name of helping Roman and maybe even doing something that would make the insiders stop looking at him like something scraped off a human’s shoe. Relatively speaking, he’d felt pretty good about it even.

Then, as they sidestepped past the faucet in the kitchen, a pair of hands firmly shoved against his back, hard enough that he didn’t have a chance to recover.

And now he was here, in the bottom of a human’s shiny, slick-sided sink, leg throbbing, looking up at the insider who’d put him there.

“Sorry,” she had the gall to say, “but I don’t have any other choice.”

Virgil may have been gritting his teeth against the pain, but he always had time to snark. “Really? You hate me so much that you had to do all this?” Insiders. Couldn’t even get their own hands dirty.

“What? No.” The borrower’s expression was hard to make out from all the way up on the counter, but her tone was incredulous. “No, I just needed-- I was seen. You get it?”

“I get that you’re out of your mind,” he bit back. “Don’t you people have a rule for that? I thought you were supposed to move out, not push someone into a sink!”

“It’s hardly even spring, and we don’t have enough supplies to make it!” the backstabber protested. “We’re not outies, and if this human doesn’t get what he wants, he could call pest control on all of us, not just me. He threatened it, even.”

“So that makes it okay to offer me up like some sacrificial lamb?” Virgil rolled onto hands and knees, and then bit back a whimper as he hurriedly kept all pressure off his left leg. Standing was out of the question.

“It’s for the good of all of us. And if you ever cared about Roman even a little bit, you’ll follow our rules for once and keep your mouth shut when he finds you.”

Virgil went still. “Was he in on this? Roman?”

Mari’s voice turned sorrowful. “Roman’s already gone. He was the first one to vanish, probably to this very human and his wretched snakes.”

“Snakes?” Virgil asked, his voice pitching embarrassingly high. And then, as his heart dropped, “Roman’s gone?”

Mari continued on, half to herself. “If he were still here, though, he’d be on my side. I don't know what he was thinking, cavorting around with you, but he knows that I’m just doing what’s best for the colony. We have children to look after.”

She took a step forward as she spoke, and then another, and Virgil felt his heart jump into his throat. “Don’t leave!”

He bristled helplessly at the pity-filled look she gave him, not halting her slow progression back across the counter ledge. “Like I said, it’s for the best. You’re not getting out of this, and me staying here would just give you false hope. I’m sure the human will be home soon, so just… try and come to terms with things.”

“Come to terms with things?!” Virgil howled as she finally vanished from sight. “You’re literally leaving me here to certain death for your own selfish ends! I could… I could help you move. I know how to travel safely, find food, for thunder’s sake don’t just leave me here!”

There was no response to his pleas, not even the sound of her footsteps across the counter. Roman wore soft cloth coverings to muffle his footsteps, Virgil remembered somewhat hysterically. He couldn't remember how far the exit was. How reassuring that even if he managed to get out of the sink, he wouldn’t know the first thing about surviving in a human house.

He was so fucked.

---

Janus sighed as he shoved his apartment door up slightly, twisting the knob and pushing it open so that the hinges didn’t make a sound. His footsteps were immediately muffled by the rug he’d placed at the door.

Just a few of the… security measures he’d come up with.

Really, if the little thieves living in the walls had any brains at all, they should’ve long ago memorized his schedule. Seeing as they avoided his traps so effectively, he didn’t have much hope of randomly catching one unawares.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t try. If he was lucky, he would at least unsettle them with how stealthy he could be.

Four steps into the living room, he heard it. A tiny clink, just barely audible past the fan lazily rotating overhead. It was coming from the kitchen.

He set his bag down, a disbelieving smile flitting over his face. Were they really that stupid, to steal food from his apartment when there were safer targets in practically any of the other units?

All the better for him, he supposed.

Carefully, slowly, he approached the other room, pausing to listen in the doorway. He didn’t see any movement on the counters, but…

Miracle of miracles, the noise came again. Janus recognized it this time— the sound of glass on metal. It was a dish being moved in the sink. He wondered for a moment if maybe it was just a small animal that had snuck in. Why would one of them be in the sink, after all?

He crept closer, and peered over the edge of the counter. Despite his doubts, it was a tiny person, slowly pushing one of the crumb-covered dishes towards the other side of the sink, where a small tower of dishware was building up. Janus couldn’t see a hook. The little creature didn’t seem to have any supplies at all, actually.

“Stuck, are we?” he asked, finally breaking his silence.

The tiny person jumped like a startled cat, and in the next moment, they were already trying to scramble up the makeshift stairs to freedom. Janus reached out and grabbed one of the glasses in the sink, plonking it over the little creature. “Not so fast.”

He took a moment to lean against the counter and observe them closer as they backed up to the far edge of the cup. Clearly handmade clothing, dark hair and sun-tanned skin, a badly-hidden limp from some injury in their left leg.

“You're not the one from before,” he mused out loud. “I don’t think they’d be dumb enough to trap themselves like this.”

That tiny expression darkened for a moment, but still not a word. Janus sighed, and decided that this was going to require more preparation than a glass, unless he wanted to suffocate the tiny stranger. He straightened up and walked out of the kitchen without a word.

One closet-scouring later, he’d found his prize and set it up in his bedroom, with only a little extra decoration for mockery purposes.

When he returned, the tiny person was pretending not to have moved, though the glass had clearly been shifted perilously close to the edge of the plate. Janus wasted no time in picking up the plate, glass, and passenger.

The tiny stranger dropped to hands and knees to brace themself, and Janus did try to make sure his steps were smooth so as to not agitate their wound. He wasn’t a complete monster.

Once he reached his room, it was simple enough to transfer them from the glass to the old terrarium he’d prepared. They made a lunge for his sleeves, as though to latch on, but between their injured state and Janus’s experience with snakes, he was quick enough to avoid them.

He clicked his tongue, but the moment he’d removed himself from the terrarium, the tiny person had ceased to focus on him completely. They immediately hobbled to press their back against the glass, staring at the fake plastic plants inside as though… Hm.

Janus tapped the glass, eliciting a flinch-glare combination. “There’s nothing alive in there but you. Relax a little.”

If looks could kill, Janus would have been dead twice over. He ignored the glare. “I know you can talk, so let’s skip the part where you pretend to be mute, shall we? You’re a new face, but I’m assuming you know who I am.”

Still no response. Janus rolled his eyes. “I suppose I don’t need you to be talkative if I’m going to be using you as a hostage.”

—-

Virgil couldn’t help the harsh laugh that bubbled out of him, shaking his head sharply like that would reverse the sound. What a joke.

“Care to share?” That oil-slick voice again.

The human looming over him waited patiently for an explanation, and Virgil scowled. He couldn’t imagine that Roman had done well under such pressure. The guy loved the sound of his own voice.

The thought felt harsher, now that he knew Roman was… dead. He’d never hear him again.

He shuddered, glancing back over his shoulder at the fake greenery around him. If this wasn’t where the snakes were kept, then where were they?

It occurred to him that he could ask. What was stopping him? Loyalty to rules that had already been broken? To someone who had already been killed by this very human?

“The snakes,” he said, voice barely there. He tried again. “Where are the snakes?”

“Oh? You know about them,” the human seemed pleased, sickeningly enough. “How about this, you answer my question, and I’ll answer yours.”

Virgil hesitated, but it wasn’t like the answer was giving all that much away. “You found me in a sink. No gear. Injured. You think the ones who put me there are going to give you anything? I’m not some valuable hostage. Just let me go.”

"I see." The human’s face had shifted somewhat, but it only assessed him for a moment longer before turning to the large, glass boxes nearby. It reached into one.

“They outgrew that old terrarium years ago, now I’ve got a much fancier set for them over here.”

The sentence seemed like nonsense, until the human returned with a snake wrapped around its wrist. Virgil froze, staring at the vibrant green coils as they shifted.

“This is Jekyll,” the human said, as though Virgil cared to be introduced to those beady yellow eyes. Though, it didn’t look large enough to eat an entire borrower. Virgil had faced larger garden snakes. “He’s the timid sort, no claim to the doctor title unfortunately.”

He watched the human rummage around in the other terrarium, and come back out with a much larger snake. He felt the blood drain from his face as the pale, patterned snake was brought closer.

“And this,” the human said, carefully running a finger along it's spine, “is Hyde. She’s a little moodier, as boas tend to be.”

Virgil slowly shifted back, knowing logically that there was glass between him and the creature, but also that the human could change that at any time. Had changed it, in Roman’s case. It was only a matter of when.

The human tracked his motion, head tilted in an uncanny parody of his snakes.

“I don’t let them wander loose in the household,” it said, finally. “They won't hurt you, despite what your friends may have told you.”

I only had one friend, Virgil thought, not stopping until he’d found the back corner of the cage, and that’s exactly why I don’t believe you.

He drew his limbs up around himself, silent, and waited until the human finally left him alone to start tending his wounds.

The more advantages he had for his escape, the better.

#sanders sides #g/t #borrowers #ts virgil #ts janus #ttf #taking the fall #writing #my writing #bthb #injury tw #ask to tag #angst #i guess?#i spent like an hour looking up snakes for this one #snakes tw

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

Text

Hello, everyone! Can you believe this is the third time I've started the recap for this chapter? Between a dying computer and a mass edit during my monthly state of, "Oh my god get rid of everything we can't let people know that we wRITE!" this project is cursed. This is the version though, I can feel it. Be positive!

Now, where were we? It's been some months (RIP) since I last posted, so I wouldn't be surprised if everyone's forgotten what's going on in this insane novel. A quick recap before the recap then: new teams have formed, no one is happy about it, Sun and Velvet went off to a shady club run by The Crown and — shock shock, surprise surprise — got themselves into a heap of trouble. That's the long and the short of it. We have to wait a while to find out what happens to them though because this chapter is focused on Coco.

We learn that Professor Rumpole has sent Coco and her new team — Team ROSC — out into the desert to take care of the grimm around the city's borders. To say that Coco is disappointed in this assignment is an understatement. We learn that they've been at this for a week straight and have gone without showering or a change of clothes that entire time (no one packed a bag?), so for a second I was hugely sympathetic. You know this vine?

youtube

I feel this vine in my soul. Give me hot water and hot coco or give me death. Besides, work is work and dangerous, physical work without a break or basic comforts is incredibly taxing. Toss in the extreme heat of a desert and I'd be pissed at everything too, no matter how important my work was. That's human.

Yet instead of humanizing Coco like this, it turns out she doesn't care at all about the hardship involved. It's fighting grimm that she's annoyed by. She thinks that "Searching for the person or persons kidnapping innocent people for some unknown but dark purpose was way more useful than fighting Grimm far from the city" and I'm just like, Coco, honey...

Do you know what your career path is?

IT'S TO KILL GRIMM.

Okay, there's admittedly a justification here, but it's a stupid one. Coco goes on to say that "This area was called the Wastelands for a reason." She's snarky about it, saying that it wastes “her time, her talent, and her patience," but the real takeaway is that it's, you know, a wasteland. Deserted of grimm and of people. What's the point of defending an area that doesn't need defending? A huntress' job might normally be to fight grimm, but when those grimm aren't around and kidnappers are, that's a whole new set of priorities.

The problem with all this is that the Wastelands is definitely not deserted and it's definitely not as far from the city as Coco would like to imply. In just a few paragraphs an alarm is going to trip and Coco will find six grimm roaming in a pack. Then she finds a person. Then that person says she needs to get back to see someone in the city within half an hour. So there are grimm, there are people about, and this area is apparently close enough to the border that you can get back to the city proper, on foot, and then get wherever it is you’re going in a bustling metropolis... all within half an hour. By that logic these grimm aren't out in the boonies, they're right outside everyone's door.

Yet Coco isn't convinced, saying that "Post Beacon [killing grimm] had been for a noble cause, but this just felt like … busywork." I cannot possibly emphasize enough that this is the job she signed up for. Not to be a detective specializing in missing people, not a war hero always on the front lines of a battle, but one of many huntsmen who perform the daily, routine, very necessary task of protecting the people from grimm. With "protecting" covering both immediate threats and preparatory work that ensures more threats don't come about — like taking care of grimm outside before they become a larger threat. You know what would have happened if Beacon had a daily chore of students killing grimm within a few miles radius of the school? There would have been far less grimm charging a mass of unprotected students when negativity unexpectedly skyrocketed.

And, as always, I am aware that Rumpole is the likely villain here. From a writing perspective, this is very much presented as her getting Coco out of the way so that she can go about her nefarious deeds in peace... but that doesn't erase the fact that the task itself is a sound one. Rumpole's motivations don't matter here, only Coco's annoyance that she... has to do her job?

I mean yeah, everyone complains about their job to one extent or another, but can you imagine if you stumbled across a firefighter complaining about all the kitchen fires they've had to put out lately? "It's so boring! There are much better things I could be spending my time and talent on. I mean, that inferno that took out a city block last year? Putting that out was noble. But routine fires? House fires? Giving lectures on how to prevent fires in the future? Ugh, I can't believe the department expects me to do this grunt work." Meanwhile, you're sneaking off, hoping that this firefighter is never called to your house, nursing mild worries about how much they're romanticizing the recent tragedy that took so many lives...

Complaints about the job turn into complaints about the teams, which makes far more sense for Coco's character. Anyone's, really. Despite my insistence that it's a good thing they're learning to fight with people other than their three besties, that was absolutely a sudden and rather traumatizing change, just given how attached the teams already are. I'm not at all surprised that Coco is struggling to cope.

She says she misses her friends, obviously, but also "surprisingly, Coco missed being in charge."

...That's supposed to be surprising? Coco, you love being in charge! How is this in any way a revelation?

Apparently it is though, stemming from how bad Reese is as their leader. As with so many things in RWBY, I find myself disagreeing with a perspective that's presented as a fact: "She liked to lead by group vote, which wasn’t leading at all." Yes... it is? We could go down a rabbit hole of literal definitions — to lead is to direct, to direct is to regulate, to regulate is to direct again — but ultimately our understanding of a word does not adhere to the dictionary alone. It's a knowledge built on experience and I would hope that everyone's experience with the term "leader" includes that person considering multiple perspectives before making a decision. A leader doesn't impose their view on a group without due consideration of their preferences and needs — that's a dictator — a leader guides the group based on feedback and their personal knowledge. If that feedback and knowledge results in a standstill, or if their knowledge outweighs preferences, they are the deciding vote because the people have previously said, "We trust your decisions" through the act of making them leader in the first place.

Asking for a group vote isn't avoiding leadership, it's an act of leadership. Reese decided that these situations warranted a majority rule. She further decided that whatever they settled on was indeed an appropriate course of action. Leadership skills are required to assess a situation and determine whether it's appropriate to vote on in the first place. If I announce to a group that we're voting on whether we go to the movies or the museum, I've done the work to determine that both of these choices are of roughly equal value and roughly equal availability. I haven't hit on any snags like, "The only movies playing are mindless blockbusters and I want this to be an educational outing" or "The museum is too far away. We'll never make it to dinner on time." Figuring out that a group can vote is its own kind of work. This avenue is particularly useful when the group is of roughly equal standing. With a few exceptions (like Ruby and Jaune) huntsmen classmates are all the same age, underwent the same training, and have had the same combat experiences. This isn't a case of one elite huntsmen lending their knowledge to an otherwise green party, it's a school randomly pointing at a somewhat outgoing individual during orientation and saying, "You. You're leader material, I guess, even though you've done little differently than the person standing beside you." Someone has to lead and Vacuo's switcheroo proves that anyone can be the leader if they're just put in that position. Coco claims a group vote is just "passing the responsibility off to your team" and yes! You want to share the responsibility because you are a team. They are a group of four equals working together with one person to guide them, they are not a boss with three subordinates. Why wouldn't Reese utilize the skills and ideas of those teammates? When making a decision, why wouldn't she see if everyone believes it's a good idea to do Thing A as opposed to Thing B? Unless Reese is outright ignoring her own ideas, beliefs, or gut feelings to cater to the others — which there's no reference of — this is good leadership. She's assisting her team in making decisions as a whole, rather than arbitrarily imposing her view on three others of similar skill and experience.

Yet Coco acts like because Reese doesn't go, "We're doing Thing A! End of discussion!" it's not leadership. Which, frankly, says a lot about how the RWBY-verse sees leadership as a whole.

I realize I'm rambling a great deal, so let me quickly provide a different media example. I'm currently immersed in Star Trek: Voyager and in season two, episode 14 "Alliances," Captain Janeway is faced with a difficult choice: align herself with a violent and so far untrustworthy species, or risk traveling through this quadrant of space without any allies. At first she's entirely against the idea of an alliance, going so far as to say that this isn't a democracy. She's the captain, dammit, she makes the decisions! But her first officer begs her to reconsider. Then the crew express disappointment — even disgust — that she won't consider this alternative. Then her chief of security, being a Vulcan, provides a persuasively logical argument for why an alliance is worth the risk... Long story short, Janeway finds herself in the minority and changes her decision accordingly. She attempts to garner an alliance and the fact that she was right — the species wasn't trustworthy and the alliance fails — is entirely beside the point. She realized that the majority voice matters. As far as we know, Reese is already practicing what Janeway learned.

ANYWAY the point is none of it matters because these characterizations are a mess. Coco also throws out that Reese "dressed like she was a twelve-year-old hanging out at the mall" and supposedly acts like one too. We're not given any examples of what that behavior looks like and, sorry, but I'm not personally inclined to judge someone based on their fashion sense. It would be great if this story actually engaged with some of the flaws the characters demonstrated, rather than just throwing them out to exist in this unacknowledged void.

Not that Coco's fashion-focused personality is really that important. Truly, the best thing about all this is how contradictory Coco's own thoughts are. She also listens to her teammates... except when she doesn't. She know when to go with their ideas and when to dismiss them for her own... except when she gets it totally wrong. As with so much in RWBY, this doesn't feel like the author giving Coco deliberate flaws that the story will grapple with down the line, it just comes across as a nonsense philosophy about leadership we're not meant to examine too closely. Coco gets to make references to the fact that her own, supposedly superior leadership is filled with holes, but heaven forbid she engage with that.

She ends all this with the thought that no matter what she might decide, she trusted her team to "do what she demanded of them” and is now extending that courtesy to Reese. This I'm inclined to praise Coco for. No matter what she might be thinking, it doesn't appear as if she's tried to undermine Reese (well, not yet. More on that at the chapter’s end), and she doesn’t appear to be refusing to listen to that leadership, even if she doesn't like how it comes about. As we're about to see, Coco has her team's best interests at heart, no matter the challenges they're facing.

Her thoughts turn back to her old team and we get... this.

Velvet was with a team that didn’t recognize her awesome capabilities. Fox was withdrawing, having lost his family for the second time. Yatsuhashi was going mad with worry about Velvet and his teammates, knowing that he couldn’t be there to protect them, and worrying he would accidentally hurt someone on his new team.

This is so unnecessarily dramatic. First, how does Coco even know any of this? Because it's been heavily implied that the old teams are barely in contact with one another. See: Velvet refusing to loop anyone in about the club and Coco stuck in the desert for a week. Second, why aren't they in contact, at least those who aren't on away missions? The entire group is acting as if changing teams means they're no longer allowed to be friends — family, as Coco puts it — when the relationship between Team RWBY and Team JNPR creates the opposite expectation right at the start of the series. Clearly, people from different teams can be close. Yatsu's worry that he might stumble using his semblance with new people is the only conflict that holds up here. Everything else has fairly straightforward solutions. Velvet needs to prove herself to new people. Yatsu needs to text Velvet if he's that worried about her. And Fox "having lost his family for a second time" is a pretty ridiculous exaggeration. You're attending the same school! Your family is still living down the hall if Vacuo has dorms like Beacon! In what world are these students unable to interact largely as they did before? They're acting as if the school has outright barred them from hanging out, rather than doing what will no doubt occur the moment they graduate: force them to work with different people. Just catch up with Fox over dinner!

Honestly, this chapter is pretty short, I'm just continually bewildered by this story.

To get back to the actual plot, something trips a sensor the group has set up and Coco responds to the situation in what I think is both a smart and empathetic manner. Previous experience has taught her that it's likely just a lizard, so she doesn't want to wake up her team for no reason. Disagreements aside, she cares enough to let them rest — "They’d probably appreciate the extra sleep." However, if it's a "rare case of something she couldn’t handle alone" she'd immediately call for help. Great plan! It's not often in this novel that I feel like I enjoy the characters, but this little moment actually had me liking Coco. Which, yes, I realize is a complicated claim. Characters should test the reader to a certain degree, mirroring all the personalities we see in real life, including biased, mean, or contradictory people. It's often a good thing to write a character that your reader is frustrated with. That can be the point! The problem with Myers' writing is that it isn't the point. Coco, as the former leader of our heroes in this tale, should be someone we enjoy spending time with and her flaws should be the basis for growth, or an acknowledgement that she is an imperfect, but well-rounded person. As it stands, flaws in this novel just sort of... exist? They bop around in the RWBY universe with almost no acknowledgement from the narrative or other characters, leaving the reader with little to nothing to take away from the text. Is Coco correct in her judgement? Is this a bias she needs to work on? Is she putting on a facade and her natural instinct to care for her team is the real Coco hidden underneath? Who knows! She’s just frustrating to read about most of the time and nothing comes of that.

Regardless, she heads out into the desert, using the night vision glasses Velvet made her.

Now see, this would have been the perfect thing to introduce before Velvet was fixing relay towers after the expert was injured. Remember how I said the novel didn't do enough to establish Velvet's own expertise? Not that a pair of goggles is really comparable to fixing a communications issue, but it still would have gone some way towards convincing me that Velvet is this super impressive tech gal, capable of handling any and all situations that might come her way.

But no, we get this impressive display of skill after Velvet's knowledge was needed in a pinch.

The glasses help Coco navigate the terrain, allowing her to both see in the dark and zoom in on things in the distance. This allows her to spot the six jackalopes that tripped the sensor, as well as the woman currently fighting them: Carmine, a villain from After the Fall that I know nothing about. Ah well. Note though what I said at the start, that Coco's dismissal of this assignment is based entirely in its supposed uselessness. Yet now here we have a pack of dangerous grimm and an enemy to content with.

Also, this is where Coco moves from kindly teammate to overconfident fool. She said she'd call for backup if she needed it... and she clearly needs it! From what I can gather, all of Team CFVY lost to Carmine last time they met up. But now she wants to risk fighting Carmine alone? Go get the others!

She doesn't, of course. Carmine doesn't notice Coco at first. She's talking about how she has to get back into the city. "He’s going to kill me if I’m not back to the Mirage in thirty."

As said, this also implies that Coco isn't nearly as far out as she initially suggested. If Carmine can feasibly finish this fight, cross the desert, navigate who knows how much of the city, and meet up with the mysterious "he" all in under half an hour, then Coco is patrolling pretty much right at the walls. AKA, the area that absolutely needs to be grimm free.

Luckily for those of us who are reading the books out of order, Myers gives a quick recap of Carmine's significance. Last book she had kidnapped Gus and "held off the combined might of Team CFVY in the desert” (oh hey, I was right), presumably escaping afterwards. Now here she is again, likely up to some new, nefarious deed.

Our of curiosity, I googled to see what she looks like and...

WHAT IS THAT OUTFIT?

Coco watches as she works to keep on top of the six grimm, debating whether she should help or walk away, but when Carmine is taken unawares, Coco acts without thinking, throwing herself into the fray.

Sometimes decisions were like that—your body already knew what to do while your brain was still processing the situation. Only in this case, Coco’s body wasn’t necessarily the clearest judge of character. Her brain would have said that Carmine didn’t deserve her help.

Now see, this is a scene I can get behind. The entire RWBY-verse is based around a type of superheroism: people with unnatural abilities, fantasy weapons, and extensive training devote themselves to protecting the people from various threats. Yet too often RWBY fails to convince me that these people are actually heroic, taking the standard flaws of a character and unknowingly exacerbating them to the point where I think, "Is this meant to be a commentary on the anti-hero? Or a critical look at these fantasy formulas? Because we've got the elements of that here, but no indication that the authors realize they're writing something other than that standard story." But this? This works for me. Coco, as a huntress, is so conditioned to help others that her body responds instinctively to someone being in danger, regardless of who that someone is. She outright admits that if she'd had the chance to think about it she would have decided against helping Carmine. The fact that she recognizes this and move anyway says a lot of good about her. Well done, Coco!

We see later that Carmine probably didn't need the help, but between the two of them the grimm really don't stand a chance. What's interesting though is how chummy the two are while defending themselves. Coco comments on Carmine's tendency to talk to grimm (like she does) and Carmine freely offers information about her movements, the fact that she lost her other sword, and that her partner, Bertilak, needs to "recharge a little" before getting back in the game. Carmine asks Coco if she'd like to team up with her instead (she does not) and the two have a number of flirty exchanges to top things off:

“I’ve been dreaming of a rematch with you,” Coco said.

“You’ve been dreaming about me? I’m flattered.” Carmine winked.

***

“Hot date with the Crown?” Coco asked.

“Don’t be jealous, darling.”

I bring all this up not as a criticism of the buddy-enemy dynamic (it's a favorite of mine), but simply because of something that happens next. Before we get to that though, I admit that I am on the fence about the flirting. Given that I haven't read After the Fall (assuming this characterization exists there), I know that Coco is a lesbian mostly via RWBY cultural osmosis, rather than through the text. This is one of the few (the only?) times that I've gotten a hint at her sexuality, yet it's associated with predatory behavior. Carmine, her enemy, is the one who turns an angry dream into a flattering one, the hot date with the bad guy into something to be jealous of. I'm honestly struggling to remember what, if anything, Coco has had to say about women in this book — this is what comes of such slow recapping and I acknowledge that this is entirely my fault — but I'm nevertheless discomforted by knowing Coco's canonical status, knowing RWBY's struggles with queer rep, and then reading a scene where the most overt representation thus far is the bad guy twisting Coco's words into something sexual.

I'm no purist. Give me a good enemies-to-lovers fic any day of the week, but that doesn't mean that kind of dynamic is the best to pull from in a franchise already facing heavy criticism for its queer rep.

Especially since the moment the grimm are gone Carmine turns her sai on Coco.

This is the "something that happens next" that I referenced above. It's weird to have them attacking one another after a whole scene of pretty genuine companionship. Coco doesn't help Carmine as a consequence of defending herself, she willingly gets involved. They tease one another. Carmine appears to answer her questions honestly. There's both implied and overt references to how well they work as a team. Then, suddenly, Carmine is outright trying to kill Coco, not just with her sai but by burying her alive. It's not the sort of banter that Ruby and Roman used to engage in, trading fake compliments and, in Roman's case before his death, legitimate feelings while attacking one another. Nor is Coco prepared for an attack the moment the grimm are gone, and she's not surprised by it. It’s just this sudden change that feels rather jarring.

Though it's far from the first time BTD has failed to convey the emotion of a scene. Here's another example rnow. As said, Carmine is attempting to bury Coco alive by moving the sand with her semblance. That's horrifying enough on its own, but remember that Coco is claustrophobic. Yet none of that panic shines through here. She comes across as indifferent throughout the attack, thinking back to summers when her brother tried to bury her while she sunbathed, amazed that she could ever consider this fun. You know who Coco sounds like in this scene?

At no point during this attack did I get the sense that Coco believes she’s in serious danger, let alone that she's struggling against a long-term phobia. The only time I even remembered that claustrophobia is meant to be a challenge for her is when she throws out the oh-so casual line, "One of her worst nightmares was being buried alive." Oh really? Because it doesn't seem like it! Coco is calm enough to remember that she used to be able to hold her breath for exactly three minutes and forty-two seconds. That doesn't feel like a character fighting against her worst nightmare.

So this scene isn't exactly compelling. Which is too bad because, as said, Coco as some other nice moments in this chapter.

However, during all this we do learn a little more about Carmine. Prior to getting trapped in the sand, Coco comments on how shockingly strong she is. "Carmine should have been at least a little bit worn down from fighting Grimm," but she's not, "She seemed nearly unstoppable now." Coco hits her full in the face, but she doesn't seem fazed. Earlier in the chapter there was that comment about how she previously took on Team CFVY alone and at the end of the battle Coco observes that Carmine "still seemed as fresh as she had at the beginning of the fight. How was she even doing that?" My basic reading comprehension skills tell me that this is setup for something, likely some change enacted by the Crown. Surely the text wouldn't put so much emphasis on Carmine's strength — have Coco questioning it to this extent, framing it as unnatural — unless we were going to get an answer, right?

But this is RWBY, so I'm not inclined to count my chickens before they hatch.

The rest of Coco's team arrives and it's then that she decides to pull the super dangerous stunt to free herself. Yeah, yeah, I get that she's suffocating and needs to do something now, can't wait to be dug out I suppose, but the timing is pretty ridiculous. The cavalry has arrived, yay! Time to blow myself up.

Seriously. She blows herself up. Using her own semblance, Coco focuses on one of her gravity dust bullets and detonates it, causing all the others in her arsenal to detonate too. It gets her out of the hole and "knocked her Aura down to a dangerously low level."

So... let’s see. Coco can literally detonate a bunch of explosives on her person, after suffocating under stand, after fighting Carmine, after fighting grimm, after a week long mission, and her aura doesn't break... but Yang's does from a single Neo slash?

Okay, RWBY.

Reese and Olive try to attack Carmine together, but end up eliminating one another's attacks. I like that a team actually has some realistic difficulties for once. Coco, however, is internally an asshole, calling them "idiots" and saying that they need to learn to coordinate their attacks. Thing is, she apparently hasn't done anything over the last week to help with that. She's been too busy complaining about Reese's clothes.

Carmine runs off as more grimm show up, drawn by Coco's non-existent panic. To her credit she does thank the others for saving her... but then immediately tries to downplay that. “It wasn’t a fair fight,” Coco spat when Reese (correctly) points out that she's the one who was ambushed. She also starts giving orders and when Reese (again, correctly!) goes to point out that she's the leader, Coco talks over her, saying they can't waste any more time out here because she has reason to believe that Shade has been compromised. She needs them only because she's out of bullets and low on aura, but they definitely need her because "let’s face it, I’m the best strategist around for miles."

Coco's a strategist?

And why does she sound like a villain trying to convince the heroes to work with her? She’s already part of the team!

Putting all that aside for the moment, we're back to this prideful characterization. I liked the well-rounded Coco from a few pages ago who balanced caring for her team with the likelihood of needing backup. Now she's flinching from the idea that she'd ever need help (hello, Sun characterization too) and snatching Reese's role the moment she's given the chance. So much for respecting her position. If the book wants me to believe that Reese is unfit to be leader and this is a golden opportunity for Coco to right a wrong... how about we actually show Reese being a bad leader?

Regardless, yay working together? The chapter ends with them presumably taking out the grimm before heading back to Shade, along with an important revelation. Prior to leaving, Carmine asked Coco why Yatsuhashi and Fox weren't rushing to her aid. It's only now that Coco realizes she didn't mention Velvet. Why? Perhaps because Carmine already knows where Velvet is, which obviously doesn't imply anything good.

And that's the end of Chapter Ten! Can you tell I never know how to finish these recaps? Describing cliffhangers doesn't have quite the same punch as, you know, actual cliffhangers. You all just have to suffer through my mediocre endings with me.

But would you look at that! Turns out the third attempt at writing this was the charm! :D

See you for Chapter Eleven! 💜

#rwby #BTD #Before the Dawn #BTD Recaps #mymetas

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ezrasarm · 4 years

Note

For the requests 23. “Shh, it was just a bad dream. Just a dream, okay? None of it was real.” From the prompt list? Doesn't have to be the exact quote I just like the concept. Any character you want!

The Weight Of It All

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

Word count: 2.3K

Warnings: Angst (oops 🤭), mentions of violence and death, my failed attempt at redeeming it with fluff, severe lack of proofreading because I’m lazy

A/N: This was meant to be mindless fluff and cuddles and then whatever this is happened and I wound up accidentally incorporating @wille-zarr’s request too (I don’t know how this keeps happening). A huge thank you to @chaotic-noceur for beta reading most of this bad boy and of course for providing moral support, ideas and probably my favourite line in the whole damn thing and to @din-damn-djarin not only for providing the prompt (or at least one of them) but also for providing ideas for her own request cause I know that kinda takes the magic out of it.

gif by @lucy-sky

Din noticed something had shifted recently. You had been distant. More withdrawn. You thought you were being discrete but he had heard you rattling around the old ship in the early hours of the morning to quell your busy mind. You had been losing sleep, there was no question of that. But over what was still a mystery to him. He kept his inquiries to himself for the most part. Opting to observe your new habits and see what he could extrapolate on his own. He didn’t want to hit a nerve by asking you the wrong question.

Travelling alone for so long before he met you meant he wasn’t well versed in this kind of interaction. The kind that involved prying into another’s mind and picking apart their thought processes to try and understand their emotions. It all seemed too complicated. He knew how uncomfortable it could be when others tried to do it to him. Yet when you asked, it came so naturally. Like you could sense just when he was ready to broach those heavy topics that had been weighing on his mind for too long.

As little as he expressed it, it always made him feel better once he got it out in the open. It was small things. A simple “You alright?” Or “What’s on your mind?”. Just a reminder that someone- you- were there. He wished he could do the same for you. Say a few words and make all your worries and problems disappear but he didn’t know how. The words never sounded right coming out of his mouth. And the longer he danced around the subject trying to figure it out, the longer you suffered on your own.

It was sudden when a jolt ran through the ship. Din had only excused himself for a few moments to go and check on the kid, leaving you at the controls. Lately, it was like the little green creature could sense your weariness and it was making him restless too. He kept acting up when you tried to put him to bed. Wailing when either of you left the room for more than ten seconds. It was as though he thought you were never going to come back. When a second jolt shuddered through the hull causing the entire ship to begin quaking violently Din was sure you were under siege or had entered some kind of asteroid field. He came scrambling up the ladder and into the cockpit as fast as he could but when he got there he found no such thing.

It was like muscle memory had taken over entirely as he flicked switches and pressed buttons frantically to get the craft back under control. His heart was pounding in his ears from the sudden kick of adrenaline when he turned to ask what the hell had just happened. There was actually a hint of anger that had swirled amongst his panic. He couldn’t believe you would be so irresponsible as to put all of you at risk- the child at risk- yourself at risk. But when his gaze fell on you, out cold in the captain’s seat, all those thoughts sublimated. There was a brief moment that he thought you had hurt yourself. That you’d hit your head in all the commotion and got a concussion. But when he was finally able to turn his full attention to you, he quickly came to the realization that that was not the case at all. You were asleep. For what he was sure was the first time in a long time. It suddenly dawned on him just how deprived you had to have been.

As mesmerizing as the view was, the Razor Crest’s cockpit was not a quiet place. He himself had troubles nodding off there if he willed it upon himself. He thought about how overwhelming the exhaustion must have been for you to fall asleep in the middle of all that and now all he could do was curse himself for not knowing what it was that kept you up at night. He considered moving you to his own bed where it was warmer and quiet and you could rest more comfortably but he also knew he couldn’t live with himself if he were the one to disturb your much-needed repose. Instead, he opted for tucking a spare blanket over your crumpled form and sitting himself down in the copilot’s seat to avoid a repeat offence of the crest’s most recent blunders.

Rolling his head against the headrest Din had just flicked the ship into autopilot and leaned back to try and get a moment of shut-eye for himself. He let his half-lidded gaze fall on your peaceful features, the soft curve of the junction between your neck and shoulder and the slight parting of your lips as your jaw hung open lazily. He focused on the subtle rise and fall to your chest as you breathed in and out each breath. He thought he was just on the edge of sleep when you shot upright. A sudden gasp escaped you as your eyes flung wide open. It was like your head had been held underwater for far too long by some invisible force and this was your first fighting breath for air. “Din,” you sputtered out in your terror, blinded by the sting of tears in your eyes. He didn’t have time to notice it was his name that slipped off your tongue subconsciously as you grasped for any semblance of safety you could get before he was kneeled in front of you, gloved hands gripping either side of your face, brushing the hair out of your line of sight so the only place your gaze could land was on him.

“Shh, it was just a bad dream.” He hushes in an attempt to soothe you despite his heart hammering against his ribcage. “Just a dream, okay? I’m right here.” He repeats quietly, raking his gloved fingers through your hair in an action that he wasn’t sure was more comforting to you or himself. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” He hummed through the static of his modulator when your stuttering breaths finally began to settle, resting the cool beskar of his helmet against your worried brow in what he hoped was an act of reassurance. He was just getting ready to open his mouth and ask what was troubling you when you beat him to it.

“I can’t make it stop.” You whispered through a shuddering breath, still clutched to the fabric that was peeking out from beneath his beskar for dear life when he pulled back to study your face. It suddenly dawned on him that it wasn’t that you couldn’t sleep. It’s that you were avoiding it. “Every time I close my eyes I see him and I-” Another sob cuts you off but Din’s mind is already racing with the possibilities. Questions of who this man was- what he had done to you- when he had even gotten the chance, were all swirling around his head twisting into a blind rage he didn’t know how to exert.

“Who?” He asks, disliking the way the urgency in his voice made you flinch slightly as a glint of a tear breached your waterline.

“The man on Jakku.” His heart dropped at that. He hadn’t even considered it. Last month the two of you had been on the desert planet for what was meant to be a simple job. Things went south and before you knew it a man was dead at your feet, a blaster trembling in your hand. Din had admired you for it. He had sung you praise over the way you handled it with such composure. But that didn’t help the fact that every time you let your eyes slip shut you were met with the cold dead gaze of your victim staring back at you. It hadn’t even occurred to him the kind mental toll it would take on you.

“You did what you had to-”

“I’m a killer, Din.” He didn’t miss the disdain laced in your voice at the mention of the word and he couldn’t help but wonder if you held that same contempt for him given the way he made his living.

“He didn’t give you any options, cyare.” He tries to reason with you but you’re too caught up in your own flurry of emotions for his words to reach you.

“He could have had a life- a wife to go home to- a family who depended on him-”

“And he was trying to kill yours!” He pleaded. It was the loudest you had ever heard him raise his voice before. He had regretted it the moment the words passed his lips but he needed you to hear him, to listen, to understand you weren’t in the wrong.

“I know, Din!” You cried back, your volume matching his own before he can even stammer out an apology. “I know.” You whispered once again. “But I’m not… like you.” There were so many things you admired about the man you loved and the way his dedication to his religion had shaped him. You adored his selflessness to do what was right for his people and to carry their name with honor and dignity. You cherished his devotion to provide for you and protect you by any means necessary with a reverence you weren’t sure he truly grasped and you understood that killing was a part of that. You would never ask him to stop but you knew you could never justify ending someone’s life in the way he did with such ease. “I wasn’t taught how to take a life and treat it like it means nothing.” The words held no malice and rationally he knew you meant no offence in saying them but they stung him just the same.

“Is that how little you think of me?” A soft croak to his voice that contradicted the empty visor gazing up at you unshakably.

“Din, that’s not what I meant.” You sighed. You could see the hint of a nod in understanding but it did nothing to quell the guilt swirling in your stomach. “I just… how do you make it go away?” You ask after a few more moments of deafening silence, your words weak and tired as you looked as they left your mouth. At that he lets out a heavy breath, rolls back on his heels and pushes himself into a standing position. For a heartbeat you think he might leave you here, alone to the thoughts you’d been so frantically trying to avoid but instead he takes your hands in his and pulls you up before turning the two of you around and dragging you down by the hips to sit on his lap. You don’t say anything for a while, too scared you’ll screw up like you did just a minute ago.

“After my first kill, I threw up.” He speaks eventually, securing his arms a little tighter around your waist. He had never told anyone that before. While he had been embarrassed by it for so long and feared what it implied about him as a member of his faith now he looked back on it with a kind of pride he hadn’t taken the time to fully consider before. “It was a rabbit. I had to snap its neck.” He explained, his voice now even but not empty of emotion. “I can still hear the bones cracking to this day.” He says. “These things don’t just go away, cyare. They stay with us. They keep us grounded.” Din explains just as his buir had when he had asked a very similar question as a child. He hated that he didn’t know how to protect you from this. From your own mind. He wished he could have shielded you from the whole ordeal in the first place but he couldn’t deny how much mandokar he saw in you now despite it. Your worries now only proved as more evidence of that. “I wish I could tell you it gets easier.” He says, brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face. “But I don’t think you would like the person you had become if it did.” He says with a hint of certitude to his voice that manages to assuage your grief more than you had been able to in the months since the incident had occurred. If nothing else now you were sure you weren’t alone. That the very feeling you thought set you apart most from your mandalorian turned out to be the one that coalesced you the most.

“Din?” You murmur wrapping an arm over his shoulder as you nuzzle your face into his neck and inhale a heavy breath of a scent you can only define as him.

“Mhmm?” He hums in return, his fingertips running up and down your spine gently when he tilts his head down to look at you.

With the way you were being crushed under the weight of your own guilt you couldn’t believe the amount of strength it took for him to carry not only his own burden but some of yours too. You don’t even know how to begin thanking him. So that’s where you start. With a quiet whisper of a ‘thank you’ and a kiss pressed to his shoulder. “I don’t know how you live with this everyday.” You mumble against the thick fabric, your voice still fragile as your eyes slip shut and you grip onto him just a little bit tighter.

“It helps having you here with me.” He goes to say, dipping his forehead to press against yours only to realize your breaths had evened out to a gentle snore and you had finally drifted off to what he hoped was a restful sleep.

•••

Cyare - my love

Buir - parental figure

Mandokar - the *right stuff*, the epitome of Mando virtue - a blend of aggression, tenacity, loyalty and a lust for life

Masterlist

Taglist: @agirllovespasta @chaoticspaceidiot @engineeredfiction @pedropascalito @dreamgirl-67 @wickedfrsgrl @hillarymurray4 @din-damn-djarin @yespolkadotkitty @wille-zarr @chaotic-noceur @oloreaa @this-cat-is-dea @marydjarin @roxypeanut @opheliaelysia @cryptkeepersoul

#din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #oneshot #and once again i apologize for the authors note from hell

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i-will-physically-fight-you · 4 years

Text

Till The Sun Is in the Sky Fanfic

Title: Till The Sun is in the Sky Fanfic

Summary: Roman is a genie who has granted wishes for over a millennia. The only reason he’d be eager to serve his next master is for a chance to briefly escape the lamp’s darkness. Not for a chance at freedom--for that’s just wishful thinking and he knows what that all entails.

Or at least that’s his assumption until he meets Patton, the newest master of his lamp.

Pairing: platonic royality

Word-Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Crying, Fear, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending

This set in the same ‘verse as When the Blazing Sun Is Gone but you don’t need to read that fic to understand this one. @delimeful requested seeing Roman’s/Logan’s role in the AU as part of my follower milestone celebration and so I went with Roman. Also huge thanks to @stillebesat who beta-read two different drafts of this fic and offered valuable input, I appreciate it! <3

He didn't know how long it had been since his last Master had thrown the lamp into the sea. It didn't matter really. Minutes, years, centuries...it didn't. Because he knew his next master would be the same as the last six hundred. Selfish, full of empty promises of freedom that never came to pass.

No, the only reason why he would ever be eager to come out of the lamp to serve his six hundredth and one master would be for those precious moments to get out of the darkness.

Some of his more inquisitive masters would ask him what it felt like to have one’s soul crammed into a lamp.

He always laughed it off and made a joke about how it made for a great napping place.

But the truth was far from it. He knew it was silly, but he feared the darkness. He feared its loneliness, feared no one would ever find his lamp again and he’d be stuck there forever.

He never told them how many times he uselessly fought against the magic barriers, hoping beyond hope to find a defect in the spell that bound him there. He didn’t tell them how much he feared them being the last master he ever had—not because they freed him but because his lamp never found another master to serve. Worse yet, his lamp shattering.

His soul was bound to the lamp and if it broke--then his soul would split into a thousand pieces along with it. Suffice to say, it was not a happy fate and not something happy to dwell on.

So he sang instead. His voice filling up the lamp, bouncing all around him. He could pretend someone was with him, that way, singing alongside him. He sang the few songs he knew and then some. He made up songs, even, about anything his mind could dwell on. He was halfway through singing about a gallant knight when a pair of hands made contact with the lamp.

A new master; both relief and trepidation hit him at once. Relief that he’d be free from the darkness once more. Trepidation in knowing that it was only a fleeting temporary respite from it.

That was quite alright. After all, his new master was probably someone in great need of his assistance—they always were. The lamp magic sought out those who were plagued by horrible life circumstances. He would be the knight in shining armor to them, like he’d been to many others before.

For that was his true purpose in life and not freedom. That was just wishful thinking—and he knew all of what that entailed.

With a shroud of red mist, he rose up in front of his new master. All of which was entirely for the sheer dramatics of it. He enjoyed putting on a good show and the adrenaline that came along with it.

“Greetings!” He boomed, waving his arms around in a grand gesture, “I am a great and powerful genie—and I am here to make all your dreams come true!”

The human gawked at him, slack-jawed. His brown eyes bulged from behind his glasses, much like a cartoon character. There was a crack in one of the glasses’ lenses and upon closer look, the glasses appeared to be practically held together by tape.

The man’s clothing appeared to be in a similar disheveled state—unraveling hems, holes in his shoes, scuff marks. The cardigan tied around his neck looked hardly wearable. Lying at the man’s feet was a blue backpack that the genie wouldn’t doubt contained all of his worldly belongings.

The lamp sought out the unfortunate and if there was one constant in any century, it was poverty.

“You’re…really a genie?” The human asked, pressing his eyebrows together.

“In the flesh.” The Genie winked.

He was well aware of what a fine specimen he was to behold. Flowing locks of russet hair, eyes that glimmered like emeralds, a voluptuous figure. Clothed in only the finest cloth that the eleventh century had to offer. Centuries of existence in the lamp had not diminished his beauty in the slightest.

If there was one thing he could take pleasure in, it was the awe humans gave him before they decided demanding for wishes. It usually lasted for only about five seconds. But during those five seconds, he could pretend that they were actually ecstatic to see him.

“What’s your name?”

He startled at those words.

“Pardon?” He asked, tilting his head backwards.

The last thing the Genie had been expecting, was those words to come out of his mouth. No one ever bothered to ask for his name. It was as though they assumed their wish-granting cosmic vending machine had no name. Or was indeed a living being with thoughts and feelings for that matter. They always started demanding rules and stipulations for their wishes as fast as they could.

“I’m sorry!” The human cried, wringing his hands together, “that was rude of me to ask without introducing myself first.”

He held out a hand, beaming, “I’m Patton! What’s your name?”

“I…” He stared down at the man’s hand, “My name?”

“Oh,” Patton’s eyes widened, “do you not have a name?”

The Genie looked away. He did once have a name, long ago before he inhabited the lamp. He couldn’t remember it. A strained, lilted laugh broke from his lips, not assuaging Patton’s concerns in the slightest.

How could he forget his own name? Names were important—special. Names had power. Names were a person’s identity. How could he let that damn lamp take something so precious away from him? It’d already taken everything else away—what more could it take?

“I can’t seem to recall it,” He shook his head, before desperately trying to change the subject, “But enough about my fabulous self! I’m here to grant you not one, not two, but three! Three wishes of immeasurable power! Say the magic word, and I’ll spin your dreams into reality.”

He expected Patton to forget the name nonsense entirely at the mention of wishes. Surely, the man had unfulfilled desires—everyone always possessed those. Instead, the man slowly shook his head.

“I can help you find a new name, if you’d like.” He offered, a smile softly framing his face.

The Genie blinked, “You wish to give me a new name?”

He could not make heads nor tails of this strange human. He scarcely knew Patton for a single minute, but his aura oozed nothing but positivity. Still, it was an odd waste of a wish, if you asked him. He’d hate to see someone so good and in need of his cosmic help squander a wish like that.

“No,” Patton said, laughing, “I want to help you find a new name.”

Patton sat down on the beach, the lamp by his side. The human looked up at him and patted the space next to him. Reluctantly, the Genie joined him.

“How does the name Daniel sound to you?” Patton asked.

Daniel. One of his more unpleasant masters went by that name. The genie made a face before shaking his head.

“That’s okay! What about Philip then?”

“Phiiiilip…” He drew out the consonants, testing how they felt against the roof of his mouth, “What do you think, dear Patton? Do I look like a Philip to you?”

“Well, you’re very princely-looking, and I’d say Philip is a very princely name!” The man giggled, “but as long as you love it—I’ll love it as well!”

The Genie hesitated. As much as he liked the name—it didn’t quite scream him. It didn’t encompass his whole being. Philip felt as tight and constraining as his lamp. The genie could lie and tell Patton he liked it just to move on from this whole naming business. His purpose here was supposed to be focused on the wish-bearer and not him, the wish-granter.

However, as he looked upon Patton’s earnest gaze he found himself unable to lie to him.

“I am afraid that I’m not entirely in love with the idea of Philip.” He admittedly with a great sigh.

“That’s alright! We just gotta keep trying then!” Patton declared, undeterred.

He continued listing off names, but none of them seemed to satisfy the Genie. The latter of whom grew despondent that they’d never find the perfect name. There were millions of names in the world, yet none of them appealed to him. He voiced this to Patton, who refused to give up hope that easily and urged him to keep trying.

“Hmm…oh! What about Roman?” Patton asked, “I knew a guy back in high school named Roman. He did theatre.”

Something sparked within the hollow cavity of the Genie’s chest.

“Theatre? As in acting out a story in front of an audience?” The Genie asked, his eyes lit bright with wonder.

He’d never seen a play before. His masters never bothered taking him to events like that. Instead he’d remain in their household, his lamp sitting on a shelf or hidden in a cabinet. Like a jar of quarters to use on a rainy day. He could only manifest within twenty-five yards around his lamp, leaving him unable to sneak off and enjoy something like a theatre show.

But what little he heard of them reminded him greatly of the bards of his time. They used to travel all over, singing sweetly in poetic verse of great heroes and terrifying monsters. He’d always loved watching a bard perform. He almost ran off and became a bard himself before he ended up stuck inside the lamp.

“Yup! He played Lumiere in our production of Beauty and the Beast.”

The names of the character and story were unfamiliar to him. But the Genie could tell by Patton’s phrasing that it had been an important role.

“Roo-man,” He tried, liking how it sounded on his lips, “Roman, Roman, Romaaaaaaaaaaan!”

Patton giggled as the Genie held out the name for as long as he could.

Roman. It was bold, it was brash, it was perfect. Not too snug, not too loose—it fit him just right.

“Well then,” He said, clearing his throat, “I’d be honored to go by the name of such a great bard!”

“I’m happy to hear that!” Patton beamed, “We should go celebrate!”

The human stood up, stuffing the lamp into his backpack in the process. He offered a hand towards the Genie—or rather Roman.

“Celebrate?” Roman questioned, as he accepted Patton’s hand, “Don’t you want your three wishes—"

“That can wait for later,” Patton said as he pulled Roman onto his feet with ease, “what’s important right now is celebrating your new name—with ice cream! I know just the place!”

“Forgive me for asking, but what is ice cream?”

“You don’t know what ice cream is?” Patton gasped, a determined look settling onto his features, “we’ll definitely have to fix that!”

He took hold of Roman’s hand—and marched towards the direction of the ice cream stand. Roman, bemused by the human, laughed as he allowed himself to be tugged along by Patton. He didn’t know why Patton was so concerned about his wellbeing but he found it a nice change from the norm.

Patton chattered along the way, mainly about ice cream and puns relating to the icy dessert and to other things.

“What did the popsicle say to his sonsicle in a crowd?” Patton asked, already snickering at his own joke.

“What?”

“He said, stick with me kid!” Patton burst into a fit of giggles, and Roman followed suit. Admittedly a lot of the contextual humor of Patton’s puns were lost on him but there was something contagious about Patton’s cheery disposition. You couldn’t help but want to laugh along and feel about a bit of that happiness glow in your lungs.

For those brief seconds of laughter, Roman felt human again. He’d have to treasure this feeling--coveting it once he inevitably ended up in the darkness of the lamp once more.

The sun set in the horizon as they reached their destination; a brilliant splash of crimson red with streaks of golden orange and lilac purple. There were a few customers already in line at the ice cream stand. Cheery music blared. Where, Roman had no clue. He could not see a band nearby. Perhaps it was magic?

“Hey um,” Patton said, ducking his head a bit, “mind if we split a bowl? I’ll let you pick out the flavor. You should go with vanilla—it’s a classic! But, uh you can get whatever you’d like!”

“Patton…” Roman frowned, “I could wish into existence a whole ice cream shop of your own if you truly wanted it. You don’t have to waste money on me.”

“No, I don’t have to,” Patton said with a determined glint in his eyes, “But I want to.”

Roman gawked at him, stunned. What was this human? People normally expected genies to do things for them, not the other way around! When it came time to order, Roman merely pointed to the vanilla as Patton had suggested.

There were tables set up next to the ice cream stand where customers could consume their ice cream. But Patton shook his head, telling Roman he knew a much better place.

“It’s a place my friend Virgil and I like to visit,” Patton said, “It’s nice and quiet, unlike most of the city. The noise can be too much sometimes, y’know?”

This peaceful location happened to be a bench in the middle of a park. Trees gracefully arched over it, dressed in the beginnings of autumn colors. Orange, yellow, red. A warm glowing yellow light emanated from the lamppost beside the bench.

“You can have the first taste of the ice cream,” Patton told him as they settled onto the bench. Roman obliged him, dipping his spoon a little in the white substance and bringing it to his mouth. He blinked. It was colder than he expected. But not unpleasantly so. It was a smooth, sweet texture.

“What do you think?” Patton asked, practically bouncing in his seat.

“It’s--it’s absolutely divine!” Roman exclaimed, his eyes flickered down to the ice cream, “May I…?”

“Of course!” Patton grinned. Roman took another spoonful, savoring the taste longer this time. They took turns finishing it off as they continued to converse.

Roman wasn’t used to talking. Sure, he talked plenty over the centuries, but his conversations with his masters revolved strictly around wish-granting. Mundane conversations about the weather were anything but mundane to the genie.

“What’s your favorite animal?” Patton asked, swinging his legs back and forth in a careless manner.

“Dogs—they are lovable, loyal creatures and mankind is undeserving of their affections.” Roman declared.

“Dogs are my favorite too!” Patton giggled, “Oh! And so are cats, horses, lizards, lions and tigers and bears—oh my! Elephants, giraffes, hippos—”

“So all of them are your favorite, I take it?”

“I guess you could say that,” Patton sheepishly grinned, “I wanted to be a veterinarian be—before—”

The human inhaled shakily, the smile slipping off his face. Instead of continuing, he stared down into the mostly empty plastic ice cream bowl. Something obviously happened in Patton’s past that upset him. It wasn’t Roman’s place to pry—but it didn’t mean he couldn’t help in the only way he knew best; magic. In all his centuries as a genie, he’s never met anyone deserving of it than Patton.

The man had been the first in a long while to treat Roman like his thoughts and feelings actually mattered. Like the genie was actually...human.

“You could still be a veterinarian, if you so badly wished,” Roman spoke softly, “Your every wish is my command.”

Patton flinched, looking more distressed than comforted by Roman’s words.

“Roman please, I can’t do that—”

“Why not?” Roman said, “you are my master—you can make any wish you’ve ever desired.”

“Roman, I’m not your master.” Patton choked.

“Of course you are,” Roman tilted his head, “you are the keeper of my lamp. What else would you be?”

“A friend?” Patton suggested, “Roman, please I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“This is different,” Roman said fervently, grasping hold of Patton’s hands, “this I offer to you freely for you are the most worthy keeper of my lamp. You must have unfulfilled desires, something, anything I can grant.”

Patton stared at Roman, his face void of expression. Several times he opened his mouth before abruptly closing it. As if thinking better of what he was about to say.

“Please.” Roman pressed further.

His heart rattled against his chest, wanting badly to escape its cage as he did with his lamp. Like the latter, it was a pointless venture. As long as his lamp remained intact so would his soul. Unless of course it shattered, and with it his soul into a thousand pieces. His psyche splintered and fractured, too broken to put back together again. Like Humpty Dumpty except worse for it was a living death, one inescapable. Yet it was a fate that was inevitable and also something he shouldn’t be dwelling on at the moment.

“There is…” Patton hesitated, “one desire I have.”

“Say it,” Roman said as he bowed his head, not daring to look at the human, “Speak it into existence and it shall be yours.”

It was going to hurt, he knew this. The genie wasn’t the true wish-granter, all the magic they possessed came from the lamp itself. The magic only used his form as a mere conduit. Because that was all a genie was—a damn puppet to his masters’ wills.

Roman brought this curse upon himself—he wanted immeasurable power and he attained it. Except, it was never his will to wield such power. Nay, only his masters possessed it. Only their wishes and not his would be granted. It’d be this way forever and ever, because everyone always cared about their happy endings and not his own.

Even Patton, once he saw the immeasurable power that surged forth from even the simplest of wishes. Roman wouldn’t blame him for it. The human has already given him more than what he’s ever deserved.

Patton squeezed Roman’s hands. It took every ounce of Roman’s willpower not to sneak a glance up at him. He had to remain strong for whatever wish Patton threw at him. In the short time he’d spent with Patton, he didn’t get off the vibe of a frivolous wisher. He dealt with plenty of those over the years. Ones who used the wishes in willy-nilly ways, without any forethought behind them.

No, he’d probably be practical. He’d wish for money, or perhaps a mistake in the past to be reversed. Those were always tricky ones. They didn’t always end in the way humans believed they would.

“Roman,” Patton began, “I wish to free you, the genie, from your lamp.”

The genie leapt off the bench as if electrocuted, hands clumsily detangling themselves from Patton’s own. The lamp’s magic roared in his ears, swelling inside him like a great storm. He gaped at the human, his heart bursting out of his chest and into his throat.

“P-patton, mind repeating that?” He gasped.

“I wish to free you the genie from your lamp.” Patton said once more, his voice firm and unbreaking.

This time he couldn’t hold off the wish. A bright red light enveloped him like a supernova explosion. Magic consumed him, rippling through every fiber of his being. A warmth fell across him, one that he hadn’t felt in a long, long while. A great shattering noise occurred. The light died down as he looked to see the lamp had spilled out of Patton’s pack, glittering underneath the lamppost, in pieces.

Breath heaving, he fell to his knees, touching the pieces. The lamp had broken and he was still here, whole and complete and free.

“Why?” He stared down at the broken lamp, quivering, “I--I don’t understand. You had three wishes. You could’ve had so much—all the wealth and fame you could ever desire!”

“But I didn’t want that,” Patton protested, resting a hand on Roman’s shoulder, “not if it came from a wish you were involuntarily bound to serve no matter what. That isn’t fair. Everyone deserves the freedom of choice. Including you.”

Roman laughed. Except it wasn’t quite a laugh. More of a strangled, gargled croak than anything else. He pressed his hands into his face, shutting his eyes as he tried to block out the dizzying nausea sweeping through him.

After six-hundred masters and a millennia inside the lamp, Roman knew a lot about the freedom of choice. His masters employed it with how they chose to use his wishes. Flaunting it so arrogantly in his face. The wishes were self-serving for most. Sometimes they used it to better others’ situations. But never his own, despite many promising to free him. Because at the end of that third wish, they’d walk away while he’d once more get trapped inside the lamp.

Over and over again, they chose to not free him. Except Patton. He chose to free Roman on his very first wish. For as long as he’d dreamt of this moment, of being free from the lamp, he never expected it to actually happen. It was just a foolish fantasy, too abstract to become reality. Not to mention in this manner. He had imagined a master would free him after he’d proven himself worthy with a great feat of magic. How could Patton think he was deserving of this gift?

He laughed weirdly again. This time it hurt his vocal chords.

“Roman?” Patton asked.

He responded with a noise, halfway resembling a hiccup and a shriek. A gentle set of arms enveloped him, pulling him closer until his forehead rested against a warm chest. A hug? Was Patton hugging him?

“It’s okay, kiddo,” Patton murmured, ruffling a hand through his hair, “let it all out.”

Kiddo. Roman wanted to snort. He was a millennia older than Patton, he wasn’t exactly a child. Except at those words, he bawled like one as he realized that those were sobs from before. Not laughter. Roman couldn’t remember the last time he cried. Just like he couldn’t remember a time before being a genie.

Who was he, without the lamp? For as much as he hated it, it’d been a part of him. It defined him and the purpose of his existence. Now he was free of it, free to be his own person, with his own wishes and desires. But he didn’t know the first step of what that looked like.

It was like he was thrown into a raging ocean of confusion and turmoil. Treading aimlessly, desperately hoping for a piece of driftwood to grab a hold on. Something that could anchor him, keep him afloat.

“P-patton--” He whispers, voice hoarse from crying, “can I--can I choose to be your friend?”

The human had suggested it earlier. Surely, he meant it still? It was quiet for a few seconds. Enough to cause Roman to doubt himself. But then the man who unbelievably granted him his freedom hugged him tighter.

“Of course, Roman,” Patton told him, “I’d be honored.”

With a sniffle, Roman’s hands fell from his face as he threw his arms around Patton to fiercely return the embrace. A few more ugly sobs wracked his throat. How was it that Patton was the one honored to be his friend when it was the opposite?

Roman hardly knew what being free looked like. But he did know he’d do anything to protect Patton, to preserve this kind, selfless spark that rested in the human’s soul.

As he dwelt encircled by Patton’s loving arms, the last slivers of the sun’s glow faded at last, dousing them in darkness. But for once, he didn’t find himself afraid of it.

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #patton sanders #roman sanders #kat writes #i tried to get virgil in this fic #but pls dont imagine vampire virge getting both jealous and concerned that patton is replacing him #or that roman (not wanting to lose his new friend) accuses him being a monster and sees him as a threat to patton #and poor patton being in the middle of it #:))))

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secretpeachtea · 4 years

Text

Onigiri Miya Tidbits Ch 5

Title: the graduation celebration

Genre: gen fic, reader insert

Word Count: 5.9k

Summary: Onigiri Miya is now hiring and you just happen to be the right person for the job. The business has been gaining popularity since its grand opening, and many customers travel from different cities just to have a bite of Miya Osamu’s delicious recipes. You did expect some craziness from working in food services, but what you didn’t expect was to be bombarded with frequent tomfoolery from a bunch of attractive volleyball players during your shifts.

disclaimer: manga spoilers

A/N: IM BACK. this literally took me a whole month to write and i hope there aren’t too many mistakes. if there are mistakes, feel free to point them out to me! other than that, hope you enjoy!

Previous///Next

Your back was aching from standing at the register for such a long time, so you decided to take a seat on one of the two chairs set up behind the counter for times like this. There was only a little over an hour left before closing, and there weren’t any customers at the moment, so taking a quick break wouldn’t hurt. It seems like Osamu was thinking the same thing as he plopped himself next to you languidly.

Your boss rests an arm on the back of your chair. “You tired?”

“A little bit, but it’s nothing I can’t handle,” you reply back with a sigh. “How about you?”

Osamu takes off his cap and runs a hand through his hair before placing it back on his head. “Nah, I’m good. Just feeling a bit dazed. It’s been a pretty slow week, so I guess I’m just lacking some energy boost.”

“Yeah, I guess. We haven’t had any interesting customers come in for a while, huh.” You think back to the time when you had to babysit a certain volleyball team and when you interacted with a specific gamer during work. “Although, I can’t really tell whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

Your conversation was interrupted when you both heard the entrance slide open indicating the arrival of a customer. Or, rather, customers. A group of young men walked into the shop while also engaged in their own chatter.

“We meet up after such a long time and you decide to come here?” A man with light brown, uneven bangs shoved his hands into his coat while sporting a blank expression. “Although, I can’t really say I’m surprised, Goshiki.”

The one addressed as Goshiki scowled in slight frustration. “I don’t trust any of the other options you all pitched in! I didn’t want to eat spicy ramen from the convenience store when we haven’t met up all together like this in so long! I won rock paper scissors too so it’s my choice, Shirabu-san!”

Another man with a crimson-tinted buzzcut chipped in with a lighthearted tone, “Are you sure you didn’t want to just come here ‘cause you heard about the cute register girl?”

“N-no! That’s not true, Tendou-san!” (yes)

“You’re so easy to read, Tsutomu! Isn’t that right, Wakatoshi-kun?”

Broad shoulders on a tall figure turned towards the redhead. “I suppose it is easy to understand Goshiki as if I were reading the gardening section of the newspaper.”

The fourth person of the group had a guitar strapped to his back with an...interesting outfit that you would not normally see someone wear voluntarily. “You guys sure haven’t changed at all. I can’t really say I expected to come here either.”

The last two people to enter the shop chuckled as they listened to their peers. One had a spiky undercut and slanted eyebrows, while the other had large, defined lips and tan skin. The latter spoke up, “Well, it’s not too bad, Semi. Plus, we’re here to celebrate Shirabu’s graduation and acceptance into medical school.”

You and Osamu are now standing behind the counter but the group of seven had yet to notice you both. You do a double take when you glance at the one who just spoke. Covering your mouth with one hand, you whisper to your boss, “Okay. I see what you meant by Benkei.”

Osamu just quietly chuckles.

It didn’t take long for one specific person to direct his attention at you as he walked to the counter. “Ah, (Surname)-san. How have you been?”

At the sudden greeting, the rest of the group ceased their conversation.

You just gave the familiar face a small smile. “I’ve been doing well, Shirabu-san.”

“SHIRABU-SAN KNOWS THE PRETTY REGISTER GIRL?!”

You’re a bit taken aback by the loud exclamation by Goshiki, so you just stare at him with wide eyes. A couple people burst out laughing, mainly Tendou, Yamagata, and Semi. The poor boy’s entire body flushes red as he tries to get the guys to stop laughing. Shirabu just lets out a sigh and turns his attention back to you. It seems like the other two who weren’t part of the boisterous bunch also turned their focus to where you were.

“Sorry about that. I told you I would visit soon, but I didn’t expect to come with my former teammates,” Shirabu apologized.

“No, that’s okay. If that’s the case, then these guys must be the Shiratorizawa alumni you mentioned before.” You shook your head in understanding. You turned towards the others. “Nice to meet you guys. I’m (Surname) (Name), Shirabu’s college classmate.”

“Hellooo~ (Name)-chan!” Tendou joyfully greeted after listening in on the conversation. Goshiki was now hidden behind Ushijima’s large stature to avoid any awkward encounters. Yamagata and Semi rejoined since they were also curious as to how you knew their former setter. After some brief introductions, you had learned all of their names before going into detail of your relationship with Shirabu.

“(Surname)-san and I went to the same university and had a couple classes together since our majors were similar. We were both fairly diligent in our studies, so we often grouped up to do assignments.”

“Oh? What did you major in, (Surname)-san?” Ohira asks.

“I majored in Anatomy and Physiology. I plan on going to grad school for Sports medicine.”

You hear a small gasp behind Ushijima and a quiet, subtle statement of “She’s pretty and smart!”, but you pretend like you didn’t hear anything in hopes to spare Goshiki from any more embarrassment. Osamu seems a bit intrigued since he’s never really heard you speak about school but stays silent off to the side.

“Have you decided on where you want to go? I know you once told me you applied to a special Sports medicine program.” Shirabu asks.

You feel a wave of negative emotions at the question but try your best to control your facial expression. “I...um...was waitlisted from the program and was rejected from all the grad schools that I applied to…”

Your former classmate’s eyes widened a bit in surprise and lifted his hand to his chin in thought. “I see.”

You try to brush off any unnecessary thoughts by waving your hands in front of you. “There must have been a reason for that. My resume wasn’t all that great and they probably thought I was lacking in a lot of ways.”

“Nonsense. From the couple of times we’ve worked together, I know that you’re a very well versed and competent person.” Shirabu crosses his arms and looks straight into your eyes. “I’m sure you’ll be able to come across a good opportunity with your capabilities.”

You were quite touched by Shirabu’s firm words and he’s managed to slightly lift up the corners of your lips despite the heavy weight in your heart. He’s fairly blunt and doesn’t like to sugarcoat words, so you know his words are genuine.

“Oh? How romantic~” Tendou commented. Shirabu just glares at the tall redhead and remains silent.

A sudden low rumble echoes into the air from Semi’s stomach. “Oh, sorry guys. I’ve been composing all day, so I haven’t gotten around to eating yet.”

“We should order now,” Ushijima advises. The rest nod their heads in agreement. As the Shiratorizawa crew puts in their orders, Osamu sets up his workstation to accommodate. The entire order came out to be quite a lot since most of the guys were heavy eaters and some ordered additional side dishes.

“Will this be all in one order or is everyone paying separately?” You ask.

Shirabu opens his mouth to answer but is interrupted by Tendou. “Since we’re here for a celebration, we can’t let the man of the hour pay for anything!”

“Are you suggesting that we split the cost of Shirabu’s meal or have one person pay for it?” Yamagata looked up thoughtfully.

Tendou raised a finger into the air and wiggled it in denial. “Just one person will pay for all of the food!”

“It’s fine, Tendou-san. Onigiris do not cost that mu-”

“Nuh uh~ That’s not an option!”

“Alright. Then, how would we determine who pays?” Semi looked a bit weary at the suggestion.

Tendou clapped his hands together. “We’ll play some games to determine who the ultimate loser is! The winners from each round will be exempt from the next one! There will be three games in total. Whoever loses every single game and remains as the last person will be the one to pay for all of us!”

“Seems simple enough,” Yamagata comments. The other guys nod their heads in agreement.

“This is a great idea!” Goshiki in particular seems fired up. “I will defeat you, Ushijima-san!”

“I look forward to your efforts, Goshiki.”

As if there was some kind of telepathic signal between the guys, everyone but Ushijima, Shirabu, and Goshiki look at one another. Sly smiles and pitiful expressions begin to form as they take a quick glance at where Goshiki and Ushijima were standing before turning back to each other in mutual understanding. It seems like the majority has come to the conclusion that one specific person will be walking home with a lighter wallet.

Shirabu, who’s already used to his former team’s antics, doesn’t even try to stop them. Once they start, it’s difficult to halt their chaos unless he wants to hear them complain about it for the next couple weeks. Although, he does make the effort to face you and Osamu. “I know they’re getting ahead of themselves, but is all this okay? I know you haven’t closed yet, so I wouldn’t want to disturb your business.”

Your boss just waves his hand to brush off the concern. “Nah, you’re good. It’s been a slow day and I was planning on closing a bit early anyways. Feel free to hang out and have fun as long as you clean up after yourselves. I’ll be preparing the food in the meantime.”

“Yeah, as long as I’m not mopping up someone’s vomit off the floor, I don’t have any problems with it either,” You reply.

With the final yes from the owner of Onigiri Miya, Tendou sports a wide grin and faces his peers. “I already have some game ideas, so all we need to do is set up everything like I ask!”

You’re just about to return to your previous seat behind the counter before the Shiratorizawa boys entered, but Tendou waved at you to get your attention. “(Name)-chan! Would you mind being the referee for the games?”

Bewilderment is evident on your face as you try to decipher the redhead’s intentions. You’re a bit cautious since the group is so unpredictable. “Oh, um, wouldn’t it be better if Shirabu-san watched over you guys? I think I prefer watching you all have fun from afar.”

“Aw~ That’s a shame.” Tendou pulls out a small box wrapped in a bright blue ribbon from the bag slung over his shoulders. “I was planning on sharing these gourmet chocolates with the person who volunteered to be a referee.”

“Huh?” There was a small glint in your eyes.

The lanky man gently pulled off the ribbon and opened the lid. Inside the box were 5 pieces of chocolate all laid out on top of a plastic mold. Each of the chocolates had intricate designs that hinted at the work of delicate hands and showed the amount of care that went into making them. The surfaces of each piece shined under the fluorescent lights and the delectable, mouthwatering aroma permeated the air. “I gifted some chocolates for our lovely graduating friend but had a couple chocolates leftover, so I made an extra box. It’s too bad that it’ll go to waste since no one will claim them.”

“...”

You stay frozen for a moment as you eye the exquisite sweets in front of you. “...What do you need me to do?”

Tendou lets out a small shout of happiness at your response, and you took one of the chocolates out of the box. You plopped it into your mouth and immediately tasted a burst of flavor. A soft, content sigh leaves your lips as you savor the dessert. There was a soft chuckle next to you and you assumed it was Osamu but decided that you were just going to savor the moment. After gushing over two more pieces, you decide to save the rest for later and make your way around the counter to where the rest were waiting.

Tendou briefs you on some of the games and you can’t help but sweatdrop at what he has planned. As you look to the side, you see Shirabu sitting on his own since he’s the only one exempt from participating in the competition. The other guys just seem to be waiting for Tendou to fill them in as well.

Goshiki notices your presence and starts to make his way over to you. “(Surname)-san! W-what are you doing over here?”

“Tendou-san asked me to be a referee for your games, so I’ll be watching over all of you from here,” you reply nonchalantly.

“What?!”

Tendou snickers beside you and places his hands on the younger boy’s shoulder. “Now, now! Let’s get ready for the game, Tsutomu!”

Since all you really had to do was monitor and keep track of the losers of each game, you take a seat next to Shirabu who just has a bored expression on his face and acknowledges you with a short nod. Tendou has now gathered everyone else into one big group and begins to gesture his arms wildly. “The first game is called ‘Pass the Napkin’! There will be two teams of three people, and it’ll be a competition to see which team passes more napkins in one minute.”

The guys just looked at one another with contemplative faces. This game seemed simple enough...or so they thought.

“There’s one special rule!” Tendou’s eyes glinted under the lights. “You can only pass the napkin with your mouths! No hands! No other body parts!”

Many faces grew pale at the “special” rule. Yamagata brings a hand up to his forehead regretfully. “I knew this wouldn’t be easy.”

Ignoring his former teammate’s exasperation, Tendou continues his explanation. “Each team will have two baskets: one full of napkins and one that is empty so that you can place the ones you’ve successfully passed. Team A is gonna be Wakatoshi-kun, Tsutomu, and Reon! The other two including me will be on Team B! Perfect even teams with 6 people!”

Ohira takes a brief moment to think. “Now that you mention it, Kawanishi isn't here.”

“He said he had a date, so he couldn’t make it today,” Semi answers. Although, Kawanishi’s absence seems to be in his favor at the moment.

“Let’s get started!” Tendou passes you his phone with the timer app opened as all of the teams make their way towards their respective napkin baskets. “Please count us off, (Name)-chan!”

All of the guys are staring at you as they wait for your signal, and you let out an inaudible sigh. “3...2...1...Start!”

Ohira and Tendou, who are the first people in their respective teams, begin inhaling a napkin with their mouths. The game has begun.

In Team B, Semi looks mildly uncomfortable, but Tendou spares no time and immediately passes the napkin to the former’s mouth. The redhead doesn’t even give Semi any time to comprehend anything as he goes for another napkin swiftly. As Semi turns to the last person in the group, Yamagata just shrugs his shoulders and takes the napkin quickly before blowing it away into the other basket. The three seem to realize that passing the napkins in rapid succession shortens the time of contact between each other and increase their pace with each napkin.

Team A doesn’t seem to be going as smoothly. Goshiki is the middleman and hesitantly receives each napkin from Ohira with flushed cheeks that only seem to be getting darker as time passes. There is an evident pause every time the youngest team member needs to pass the napkin to Ushijima. For some reason, Goshiki also seems to make frequent eye contact with you as he’s passing the napkin to the older pro athlete before quickly averting his eyes with an even deeper blush. As a result, Goshiki drops the napkins several times.

“S-s-sorry, Ushijima-san! I’ll get the next one!”

Both teams continue transferring napkins from one basket to another for a couple more seconds. Glancing at the timer, you see that there are about 10 seconds left. You open your mouth to start counting down the remaining seconds but a sharp, horrified gasp stops you. As you direct your attention towards the source of the noise, Goshiki’s posture is tense and he’s making a strange face at the opposing team. Shifting your gaze to his line of sight, you understand what had caused the poor boy to be in such a state of shock.

A lone napkin flutters onto the floor as silence creeps through the air. Yamagata is leaning forward in Semi’s direction while the latter has his hands anchored onto his teammate’s shoulders. Their lips are connected with nothing to separate the physical contact, but both males are too shocked to make any motion. Mortified expressions from Yamagata and Semi tell you that this predicament was not intentional.

“Oya?~”

Tendou’s sudden disturbance seems to break everyone out of the trance. The timer goes off at this moment as well and a cacophony of noises fill the room. Semi and Yamagata jump away from each other aggressively. The grey-haired male sprints to the bathroom to scrub down his mouth as Yamagata vigorously rubs a handful of napkins onto his lips. Tendou begins to cackle rather loudly while Ohira just lets out an amused chuckle. Goshiki becomes a sputtering mess, red spreading across his whole body. Ushijima blinks absentmindedly.

You watch the chaos unfold and notice Shirabu closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose in disappointment. It takes a minute for everyone to get their bearings and Semi returns from the bathroom bashfully. He glances at Yamagata briefly. “That never happened?”

“That never happened,” Yamagata firmly agrees.

Tendou seems to have calmed down a bit because, before you know it, he already has both napkin baskets in his arms, one obviously more full than the other. “Team B is the winner!”

Ushijima is the only one to start clapping while everyone else just sweatdrops at the redhead. Tendou puts away the baskets and turns towards the group once again. “All of Team A will be moving onto the next game since they lost! Team B is exempt from paying!”

You watch as the lanky man saunters over to the counter and Osamu hands him a tray with three small rice balls. You make eye contact with your boss and he just gives you a smirk.

Tendou proceeds to explain the next game. “For the next round, there is one rice ball filled with delicious seasoned meat while the other two are filled with wasabi! The three participants must pick one of the rice balls to eat. Whoever chooses the tasty rice ball will be exempt from paying and the other two people will move on to the final game! (Name)-chan will pick a random name from this conveniently premade bag of names to see who will choose a rice ball first! Everyone will eat the rice balls at the same time though for fun!”

Yamagata gestures you to put your hand inside of a small black bag filled with what you assumed were the three names from the losing team written down on pieces of paper. You reach in and grab one of the papers and take it out of the bag before reading out the name. “Ohira Reon.”

Ohira makes his way over to where the tray was and picks up the rice ball in the middle without hesitation. He seemed pretty confident in his decision, but you didn’t really get the chance to question it as Tendou grabs your attention once again. “Please pick the next name!”

You turn back to Yamagata and reach out to grab another name out of the bag. Your hand stops right as your fingers graze the hem. You blink once and realize that the bag looked a bit different from before; it now seemed to be a more navy blue color. Wasn’t the bag black before?

Noticing your reluctance, Yamagata shoves the rest of your hand into the bag and gives you a suspicious yet pleading look. You inwardly sigh and proceed to pick out a name. “Ushijima Wakatoshi.”

The tall volleyball player chooses the rice ball to the far left leaving Goshiki to take the last one left without a choice. Tendou placed the tray down with a satisfied smile. “Now that everyone has a rice ball, it’s time to eat!”

Ushijima, Goshiki, and Ohira all consumed their rice balls in one bite. There were only chewing noises as everyone waited for any reactions. All of a sudden, Goshiki doubled over and threw a hand over his mouth.

You panicked. “Woah! I wasn’t joking about the vomit! You better not throw up on this floor!”

Terrified by your warning, Goshiki immediately ran towards the nearest trash can and practically stuck half of his head into it. Although he was able to control himself enough to avoid regurgitating everything in his stomach, he desperately spit out the entire rice ball with wasabi and tried his best to get rid of as much residue as he could.

You turned your attention back to the other two people who had eaten a rice ball, curious to see the other victim. Ohira wiped his hands on his pants with a content smile as he continued to savor his delicious snack. Ushijima, on the other hand, stood in his usual stoic stance.

“That was quite spicy.”

It truly is a wonder how someone could remain so composed in situations like this.

“The losers are Wakatoshi-kun and Tsutomu! Get ready for the last game to see who will pay for all of the food!” Tendou exclaims excitedly, completely ignoring the younger boy that’s now leaning over the counter in despair. “The final round is called ‘Find the Volleyball’! The two players will both be blindfolded and they will need to search for the volleyball that we will hide in this room. Whoever finds the volleyball first wins the game and the ultimate loser will be the one to pay for everything!”

Tendou takes out two sports towels and a volleyball from Ushijima’s duffel bag. He passes the towels to Ushijima and Goshiki so that they could begin blindfolding themselves. The others are just lounging around and waiting for the next game to begin. You notice that Ushijima is having some trouble keeping the towel over his eyes as he tries to tie it behind his head. Without thinking too much, you walk over to where he’s standing. “Ushijima-san, do you want some help?”

“Ah, yes. I’m having some trouble keeping this in place. Do you mind holding the towel over my eyes?”

“Yeah, sure!” For a moment, you take in his tall stature and smile sheepishly. “But, you might have to bend down a bit for me. You’re quite tall.”

Ushijima complies to your request and slightly bends his back as he places the towel over his eyes once again. You bring up your hands to his face and your fingers gently brush against his as you replace his hands with your own over the towel. The blindfold starts to fall a bit so your hold on the male’s face reflexively tightens a bit, your hands practically cupping Ushijima’s face. You start to lean forward to get a good look at the blindfold to make sure there are no gaps, not realizing how close you truly were to the volleyball player.

On the other side of the room, Goshiki’s eyes widen at the suggestive position you and Ushijima are standing in. He was just about to wear his own blindfold, but was struck by a great idea. “(Surname)-san, can you-”

“Tsutomu! You look like you need some help!” Tendou swiped the towel from Goshiki’s hands and immediately covered his eyes forcefully. “I can help you!”

Goshiki gasped in discomfort. “Ah! Tendou-san, you almost poked my eyes!”

Ushijima was finally able to successfully tie the towel around his head and you took this as your cue to pull away. He straightened his back and nodded his head in your direction. “Thank you, (Surname)-san.”

“No problem,” you reply with a grin.

Since both males were properly blindfolded, the game was ready to commence. However, instead of hiding the volleyball, Semi held onto it. You were a bit confused since you remember that the rule was to find the hidden volleyball, but at this point, you don’t even want to question these guys anymore. Tendou stood off to the side and projected his voice loud and clear, “The game starts…Now!”

Semi immediately passed the ball to Ohira and some of the guys who weren’t participating began to pass the ball amongst each other silently. Ushijima and Goshiki both reach out their arms in front of them cautiously to protect themselves from running into things. Although, their efforts were in vain as Goshiki stubs his foot on one of the chairs with a yelp and crouches to the ground in distress. Ushijima manages to knock over a bottle of soy sauce from the counter, but he doesn’t seem to realize what happened as he turns around and continues his search. Fortunately, the bottle didn’t shatter, but there is now a puddle of soy sauce coating the floor. You sigh as you grab a handful of napkins and make your way towards the mess.

Goshiki seems to have changed strategies and is now crawling along the floor with one arm in front of him. He bumps into another chair and lifts his arm higher to steady himself. Suddenly, his hand came in contact with a round object that felt firm like a volleyball. “Yes! I found it!”

At his exclamation, everyone in the room shot their gaze to where Goshiki was and paled. Ushijima raised the towel obscuring his vision to see what was going on. Even Shirabu’s jaw dropped substantially. At this moment, Yamagata was in possession of the volleyball that was definitely not anywhere near the younger boy.

In broad daylight, Goshiki’s right hand was placed on your butt. You felt every one of your nerves kicking into overdrive as soon as your body overcame the initial shock. Spinning around abruptly, you deliver somewhat of a roundhouse kick to the poor, blindfolded boy’s body and he ends up tumbling backwards dramatically. His pained groans snap you out of your exasperation and immediately kneel down to check on him. “Oh, sh-! Are you okay, Goshiki-san?”

With your help, Goshiki is able to take off his blindfold and sit upright. “W-what happened? Where’s the volleyball? Did I beat Ushijima-san?!”

“N-not exactly…” You play with strands of your hair unconsciously out of embarrassment. “Sorry about kicking you so hard.”

“But, I thought I felt the ball just now? Why does Yamagata-san have it? What else could I have been touching? And, why did you kick me? Unless…” Goshiki’s expression suddenly shifts from confusion to absolute horror as he starts to connect all the dots. He begins to shriek at the realization and he almost slams his head onto the floor in order to bow in apology. “I’M SO SORRY, (SURNAME)-SAN! IT WAS A COMPLETE ACCIDENT!”

You try to reassure Goshiki that you’re not angry at him. “I-it’s okay. I know it wasn’t on purpose!”

“Nice kick, (Surname)-san.”

“10/10.”

“Would pay to see that again.”

As voices fill the air, that’s when you realize that you were still in a room full of other people and your cheeks flush pink once again. The rest of the guys were observing the whole interaction between the two of you in amusement.

Tendou gave you an apologetic smile but still seemed satisfied with how this ‘competition’ went. He cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention. “Alright! Congratulations to Tsutomu for winning the game!”

“Huh? I thought neither of them found the volleyball in the end,” Semi commented.

“Well, Wakatoshi-kun took off his blindfold first before anyone found the volleyball, so he automatically forfeited.” Tendou faced his best friend. “It’s for the best. You make the most money out of all of us, Wakatoshi-kun!”

Ushijima nodded his head in acceptance and proceeded to take out his wallet. “I cannot deny that.”

“WAIT A MINUTE!” Suddenly, Goshiki jumped up from his position and pointed at his peers. “WERE YOU TRYING TO MAKE USHIJIMA-SAN PAY THIS WHOLE TIME?!”

“Yup.” Four males voices all answered at once.

“THEN, WHY DID WE PLAY THE GAMES?!”

“‘Cause it’s fun.”

The four males continue to tease their youngest friend and you sigh for the umpteenth time today. Ushijima walks over to stand next to you and hands you the total payment for the food. “I believe this is enough to cover everyone.”

You spend a couple seconds counting the money before looking back up to the broad shouldered man beside you. “Yup, looks right to me. Thanks.”

Before you could make your way to the register, you feel a light tap on your shoulder. Turning your head, you see Ushijima’s hand inches away from where you felt the sensation and you’re surprised by what he says next. “Are you okay?”

“What do you mean?” You blink in confusion.

“You looked very uncomfortable before.”

It doesn’t take you long to realize that he’s talking about what had conspired during the last game. “Oh, yeah. I’m okay. Thank you for asking, Ushijima-san. You don’t have to worry about it too much. I wouldn’t mind if you or your other friends came by again after today either. I had a good time overall.”

“Ah. Then, I will take your word for it.” Ushijima gives you a small smile and then turns to walk back to his group of friends. The volleyball player doesn’t seem like the type of person to show much concern for other people due to his naturally stoic and aloof demeanor, but you were pleasantly surprised by his caring nature.

“Order’s ready, guys!” Osamu places multiple bags of food onto the counter. “I don’t mean to mess with your outing, but we are about to close, so you won’t be able to stay for too long.”

“No worries. I think we’ve extended our stay here long enough.” Shirabu assured your boss after being quiet for quite some time. “We’ll probably head over to Goshiki’s apartment anyways.”

“What?!”

Everyone ignored the boy’s outburst and started to grab all their food. As the Shiratorizawa alumni started walking out of the door the night air was filled with shouts of byes and thank yous. Shirabu turned to you one last time before following his friends. “We should keep in contact, (Surname)-san. You still have my number, right? I can also let you know if I hear about any other programs for graduate schools during my internships.”

“I do! I really appreciate it. I’ll see you again sometime, Shirabu-san!” You give him a final wave and he leaves through the exit lifting up a hand behind his shoulder in acknowledgement.

Today was definitely not what you expected from what started out as a slow, normal week.

“Still tired?” Your boss questioned you once again.

You smile as you remember him asking the same question a few hours back. “Exhausted, but strangely refreshed. Is that weird?”

“Definitely a contradiction.” He laughed at your answer. “You got yourself roped into an interesting group of people today. Didn’t know you had a sweet tooth though.”

A mild blush spread across your face as you start to stutter. “I-I normally don’t, but…”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Your boss gives you a thoughtful look and subtly smirks at your reaction.

Recovering from your flushed appearance, you gesture a hand towards a certain box on top of the counter. “Did you want to try one of the chocolates? You’ll understand once you get a taste of it.”

“Why not?”

After quickly washing your hands in the sink, you slide over the box Tendou had given you and open it on the counter space next to Osamu. Your fingers snatch up a star-shaped chocolate and casually bring it up to his mouth. The taller male doesn’t think much of your actions and allows you to feed him as if it was the most natural thing in the world. After everything that happened today, your mind can only briefly sense that your fingers made contact with your boss’ lips. Although, your heart does linger on the fact that Osamu’s lips are much softer than what you expected.

Once the chocolate is fully consumed, Osamu lets out a satisfied hum. “Those Shiratorizawa folks sure know what they’re doing despite the craziness that follows them. Actually, there’s something else I want to ask you. You said you went to the same university as Shirabu-san, right?”

“Yup!”

“When did you graduate?”

You look up to the ceiling as you think. “Um...Maybe around a week ago?”

There’s a slight pause as Osamu takes in what you had just told him. “What?! I had no idea! Did you celebrate with your friends too?”

You shook your head. “Nah, I never really had a lot of friends since I was working so much in college and the ones that I’m close with are all overseas already.”

Osamu nodded his head in understanding. “Well, I got nothing against spending some relaxing alone time, but did you at least treat yourself with a cake or something?”

“I’m not really used to buying things for myself. It’s fine, though. I’m pretty used to pushing aside stuff like this.” You shrug your shoulders to emphasize your carefree attitude. Although, your eyes held a hint of sadness that Osamu would’ve missed if he didn’t have his full attention on you. “Plus, I didn’t even get accepted into grad school, so there’s not much to celebrate there.”

“How come it never came up in any of our conversations?”

“Oh, uh, I didn’t think anyone else cared.”

“...” Osamu stays silent and a slight somber atmosphere permeates the air. He contemplates about something for a moment before suddenly snapping his fingers. You look at him curiously and he just gives you his signature grin without telling you what he just thought of. Instead, he places a hand on your head and begins to pat it gently. “I don’t know how much it means coming from me, but you did well. I’m sure you’ve worked hard, (Name)-san.”

You felt a slight sting in your eyes and lowered your head so that your boss couldn’t see how much of an effect he had on you. “Thanks, Osamu-san.”

A/N: make way for ushiwaka everyone. and yes, osamu loves to just sit back and watch all the chaos unfold

taglist: @dinablossom

#onigiri miya #onigiri miya tidbits #secretpeachtea #shiratorizawa #ushijima #tendou #semi #shirabu #goshiki #ohira #yamagata

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jeongyunhoed · 3 years

Photo

You’re traveling to another dimension It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity It is the middle ground between light and shadow, Between science and superstition It ties between the pit of man’s fears and the summit of his knowledge This is the dimension of imagination

An ATEEZ Twilight Zone!AU (masterlist here)

A/N: In time for Yuyu’s birthday. I actually kept putting this off because the episode this is based on creeped me out so much even the song in the episode creeped me out.

Happy birthday to the tall care bear also known as the love of my life, Jeong Yunho!!!

Listen to this song for the full effect. It’s the song from the episode. Trust me. It adds to the effect.

T/W: Death. Enough said.

XV. Come Wander with Me (Yunho)

Noon.

With a backpack and his recording device in hand, Jeong Yunho was walking through the forest. It was part of his so-called “soul-searching” trip before he had to get back to work. Yunho was a singer under an independent label, busking every now and then while landing televised gigs and online concerts. He was stuck in a rut, a songwriting rut, having been in creativity limbo for the past several months. Not a word, not a tune came into his head that he saw was good enough. He recalled the advice given to him by a nearby resident, which was to look for a man who owns a shop in the very forest he was traveling to, there would be his inspiration.

Yunho was focused on getting an original song, in the hopes of coming back to the scene with a viral hit that would get him onto the more popular shows. It was always good to strive for more. He approached a clearing, finding a small shop. “Hongjoong’s Curio,” said the sign. It was an odd shop to look for a song in, but Yunho figured he’d take his chances. He had enough money to buy the rights. It looked like it hadn’t been renovated since the 1970s. Then again, Yunho knew better than to judge. Maybe the owner intended the shop to look that way.

He stepped inside, the door ringing the bell above his head. Yunho saw that there was more to the shop than he thought. There were trinkets sold hanging from a papier-mache tree in one corner of the shop, vintage objects in another. “How may I help you?” A man with bright red hair stepped out from the backroom, his coveralls covered in small streaks of orange and white paint.

Yunho blinked a few times as if to snap himself out of staring at his surroundings. “Oh, hi, I was told you sell a lot of things here, including songs?” He asked.

“I do sell a lot of things here. Things that remind people of the past, things that say a lot about the present,” Hongjoong fiddled with the paintbrush in his hand. “...Things that could foretell the future…”

“...Including songs, right?”

“Oh yes, including songs,” Hongjoong nodded.

“What kind of songs do you have?”

“It depends on what you got in exchange.”

Yunho took out a wad of bills from his pocket and set it down. “You can name your price, I’m sure I can pay for it.”

Hongjoong stared at the bills and then at him, slowly shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I can’t take your money.”

“...Excuse me?”

“I said I can’t take your money. You’ll have to look somewhere else. That’s all I can say,” He said, sliding the bills back to him.

“But I’m offering you this much money for a song,” Yunho argued.

“You can take your money elsewhere, as long as you’re here in my store, I can’t accept that. You’ve just wasted your time, I’m sorry,” Hongjoong said dismissively, returning to the backroom and closing the door.

Yunho padded back outside, a slight gust of wind making him shiver. He turned on his heel to go back in the same direction he came from when he suddenly heard a humming. Yunho paused to listen, the humming became clearer until he realized it was someone singing from a distance, accompanied by a soft strumming of a guitar. He went in the other direction to find the voice, passing by a slab of rock close to the path in the woods, unaware that the slab of rock he passed by was a tombstone.

Jeong Yunho, the Wandering Man.

Yunho wandered through the forest, the voice becoming louder and clearer the more he traveled through. The voice was sweet-sounding, the song, a haunting masterpiece. If he managed to get the rights of the song, Yunho knew it would become a hit.

“He said, come wander with me, love, come wander with me, away from this sad world, come wander with me,” the voice sang.

Yunho nearly broke into a run as he looked for the singer, skidding to a halt when he approached the lake. He heard the same words again but this time, it was close by until he found who the voice belonged to. It was a young woman, sitting under a tree and playing the guitar, humming the same words as what he heard earlier. He carefully approached her. “Hello,” He said.

The young woman looked up. She seemed to stare at him in familiarity until a small smile played across her features. “Hi,” she said quietly.

“I could hear you singing from far away, that’s a beautiful voice you have,” Yunho said, taking another step forward.

“Thank you,” She looked down at her guitar again.

“It’s a beautiful song too.”

The woman’s smile faded slightly. “...Thank you.”

“Do you mind if I hear it again?” Yunho bent down.

“...Okay,” She said, softly strumming the guitar. “He said, come wander with me, love, come wander with me, away from this sad world, come wander with me,” She sang. “He came from the sunset, he came from the sea, he came from my sorrow, and can love only me…”

Yunho smiled as he listened to her sing and play. By the time she finished, she looked at him with that same look of familiarity again. “...Can-can I buy that song from you?” He said. “It’s a very beautiful song, everyone should hear it.”

The woman shook her head. “The song isn’t for sale, I’m sorry,” She said.

Yunho leaned over, tilting her chin up. “Are you sure it isn’t for sale?” He said, his tone honeyed.

“Yes it’s not for sale,” She said softly. “It’s a song that needs to be earned,” She added, in an attempt to joke.

He chuckled. “How can I earn it?”

“You’ll have to love me,” She replied. He was quick to stifle his surprise. “Can you do that?”

“I can, and you’ll have to love me too, can you do that?” Yunho nodded, and she did the same. “My name is Yunho, Jeong Yunho.”

“Juhyun,” She replied, her cheeks heating up when he pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

“What if you record just one part of the song for me?” He murmured against her lips. “So I can listen to it all the time if we’re apart? What do you think?”

Juhyun smiled. “Okay,” She said. Yunho took out his recording device, keeping it close to her. “He said come wander with me, love, come wander with me, away from this sad world, come wander with me,” She sang.

“He came from the sunset, he came from the sea, he came from my sorrow, and can love only me,” She continued. As Yunho sat beside her, recording the same lines and verses she sang, a woman in black was watching from the distance, having watched them all this time.

“He sang of a sweet love, of dreams that would be, but I was sworn to another, and could never be free...”

“The Choi men were brothers, four men strong and bold,” Juhyun hummed later that afternoon, Yunho resting his head on her lap. “And for one I was chosen, with my love still untold, they heard of the wanderer, they heard he loved me, they heard of…”

“You really have a very beautiful voice,” He said, making her smile.

“Hey!”

Juhyun and Yunho looked up, a man appearing from the woods. Yunho noticed he was holding a rifle. “...San,” She said, looking petrified.

“Word around here travels fast, this outsider is coming for my wife-to-be,” He said. “Wait ‘til my brothers hear about this.”

Yunho got up. “Listen-”

“Don’t you tell me to listen, you’re coming with me, my brothers will teach you a lesson-” The man pointed his rifle at him.

“San! Please!” Juhyun cried out as Yunho resisted, the two men getting into a tussle, wrestling to get rid of the rifle until Yunho outmaneuvered him, sending the man known as San into the tree headfirst.

San fell to the ground, and Juhyun bent down to check on him, staring in horror when she realized that he was dead. Yunho threw the rifle aside in horror, accidentally playing his recording device. “You killed Choi San, betrothed unto me, struck him down in his anger, under an old willow tree,” Juhyun’s voice could be heard, making the two of them exchange looks. The young woman looked shaken. “By the lake where our love dwelt, under the willow tree, you killed Choi San, under the old willow tree…”

“What the-” Yunho stopped the recording, dropping the device. “Come on!” He took her hand, leading her out of the woods.

“Yunho, please don’t leave! Please stay with me,” She said, almost pleading.

“I can’t,” He stressed. “That guy is dead, it was an accident, I only meant to get rid of the rifle, he was going to shoot me, Juhyun…”

“Still, please, please stay with me,” Juhyun pleaded.

“I’m sorry Juhyun, I don’t think I can.”

“They sought out their brother, and found him alone, they wept by the lakeside, for a boy hardly grown,” She broke into song, making him stare at her. “They wept by the lakeside, and vowed he must die, the wandering stranger…”

Yunho broke away from her. “I have to leave. You can keep your song.”

“Yunho, please don’t leave me!” Juhyun held onto him. “Things will be different this time, I know it, just please don’t leave me.”

“This time? You mean this has happened to you before? You’ve lured other men with that song of yours, haven’t you?”

“No!” She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. “It’s always been you, Yunho, it has always been you.”

“...No!” Yunho broke away from her, sprinting away. He needed to get away, he didn’t care about the song anymore. As he looked back, he nearly tripped and fell when he saw that Juhyun had changed. She was dressed in black, a black shawl over her head, face weathered and in tears.

“Yunho! Yunho!” She cried out from the distance. “Yunho, it’s always been you!”

Yunho kept going further back in the direction he remembered coming from. He could already hear the voices of San’s brothers from the distance as well. He stopped when he saw the shop once again and stepped inside. He needed to hide until they had gone. “I said your money’s not welcome here,” Hongjoong tried to send him back out.

“No, no I’m not looking for a song, I just need to hide from the guys that were chasing me-”

“You can’t hide here, get out!” Hongjoong tried to push him out of the store, only for Yunho to bash his head with the nearby saxophone. The shorter male fell to the floor, unconscious.

The voices grew louder and Yunho squeezed through the array of musical instruments, hiding behind the drum set. His heart was pounding as he looked out at the entrance. They would be coming at any minute.

Yunho tried to move but accidentally bumped a music box, making it play. The more he moved, it sent the other music boxes open and playing, the various tunes filling the shop. Yunho got up, stepping over the boxes in an attempt to move away, and before he knew it, three men that he knew were San’s brothers had arrived, all of them holding rifles. A gunshot later and Yunho fell to the floor.

#kdiner #ateez #ateez au #ateez scenarios #ateez timestamps #yunho #jeong yunho #ateez yunho #happy yuyu day

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years

Text

“Just a Few Days”

Summary- Bucky x Y/N. Bucky hadnt been home for long, but is sent back out on a mission. You and him decide on how to spend his time home once he gets back. Written for @the--sad--hatter The Weird and The Wonderful- writing challenge. Congrats babes on your milestone! Prompt is written in bold. Smut. Written in the same verse as Changes

Word Count- 3.1k

“You really think you can pin me Barnes?” You taunted the super soldier while the two of you circled the mat, giving him a taunting grin. His movements were almost cat like, slinking along on pads of his bare feet, his hands flexed in a relaxed manner at his side. He knew, you werent easy to catch. Flexible and quick as you were, this morning in the early hours of dawn you managed to pin him easily in the bed. Kisses raining down from your sweet lips to travel down his body as you wrapped your hands around his erection. You had smirked at him then in a similar way you were now.

His sweat pants hid the tensing of muscles, preparing his move. “As long as I stay away from that pretty mouth of yours I can.” You smirk, recalling the blow job you given this morning. Bucky could see you were distracted at his words and he reached for a grasp. Your hand coming up to block his hold and jab out with one of your own, twisting around to his back, you scramble onto his shoulders, a move Nat so nicely shared with you, his head clasped between your thighs, you throw your weight forward, the two of you falling forward. You promptly slap the ground with your arms, and move into a roll. Bucky, prepared for it rolled as well and landed back on his feet to your back.

“You had no problem with my mouth this morning” You huff out and still in the midst of sparring, he wraps his arm around your neck and slams you back to his chest, chuckling near your ear. “I would say my biggest weakness Doll. And check” Hes taunting you again, knowing you always hesitated attacking him. This is your chance to escape or relent the match to him, and you fall back to the age old tried and true. Your foot slamming down in the instep of his leg, and elbow sharply jarring back into his abdomen.

An oof backed him up, and you spun around to see Bucky grinning at you and rubbing where your elbow clipped him. “Damn good Y/N, I was hoping you would break loose.” You blush at the compliment, and move over to him, placing your hand where you got him. “Im sorry, I know you say to attack fully, but I still feel guilty about it.Doesnt hurt right?” Silly question you know, but still....

“I know you do Doll, and no. More of a surprise then anything, ive had worst.” His arm slung over your shoulder and he kissed your forehead just as Sam entered the ring, carrying a tablet with him. You get a sinking feeling, you know what it means.

“You two call that foreplay? take it to your room.” Sam joked and Bucky muttered a “shut up Wilson, what you got?”

“Listen I know you just got back, but this is an in and out case, and Steve figured you would want in on this one.” You glance over the details, a hydra base, an old one. From the notes it claimed Bucky might have been associated with its operation back in the day and might still be in semi activity now. Your hand rubs against his back when you feel him stiffen at your side, knowing he just saw the same information you had. “How long will we be gone?” you noted a hint of weariness in his voice, hesitation.

“Couple days, few at best. Were gonna be headed out in an hour.”

Of course they were.

Little later, you and Bucky are getting ready for your goodbyes, so soon, you hated it since he had just gotten back. “Hey Doll, just a couple days. When I get back, Im taking a few weeks, screw ‘em all. Me and you will get out of here. Wherever we want to go.” Bucky did his best to bring a smile back to your face.

You brighten much to his relief at the suggestion, nodding” I would really like that.” a mischievous glint shines in your eyes and you lower your voice in a tease as you glance over his shoulder to where Steve is getting on the jet. “Can we just go on the road without telling anyone and call Steve to tell him were MIA for a while?”

Bucky laughs and nods, tilting your chin up to place a teasing deep kiss goodbye on it. “We can although Steve rather likes rebellion. You might get a better reaction out of Tony. I will see you in a few days doll, I love you.”

“Love you to Sargent, I will see you when you come home.”

He turned to walk away, a glance over his shoulder showed you flashing him a smile and a little wave, the lights behind you shimmering around your form in a silhouette. It would be one of the moments he would think back on later. Sam said its just a couple days.

Turns out Sam is a god damn liar.

What was one base turned into following leads to others still functioning. Flushing them out, chasing another lead, it had been weeks at this point, and to say Bucky wasnt kicking himself for jumping back into it all so soon would be an understatement. At about the third week mark, he had enough of being around the rest of the team on the jet, and set out to camp in the run down base. Setting up his site, he was soon joined by Steve and Sam.

“I dont remember giving yall permission to take up in my space.” Bucky growled, kicking open his sleeping mat, and wishing sorely that it was your bed, with your soft words filling his mind and warm body wrapped around his. Not these two fuckers who thought that this was home as they made themselves all cozy as fuck. Yea, he was in a bad mood. “And you said this was just gonna be for a couple days.” he growled slightly at Sam, who was unaffected by Buckys mood.

“You know how these things go Buck.” Steve said from where he was patching his suit, his large fingers nimble as he threaded the needle and dragged his suit in his lap. “But it will just be a few more days I think. Have you called Y/N today?” HIs friend never looked up from his mending and Bucky went from pissed off to resigned, digging into his gear to find the stark phone Tony gave all of you. “No... but I am.”

Leaving the two of them behind, he stepped out into the night, glancing at the time. It would be mid afternoon for you, you would be busy training recruits with Barton and Romanoff, or in the field, unlike him though, closer to home. How he wished he was there now, he missed you terribly. Regardless, he would leave you a voice message, knowing that it would cheer you up.

“Hey Doll, I miss you like fucking crazy babygirl. I hope things are better at home then here. I cant go into much details, but they basically just have us chasing leads. Steve did say just a few more days...” He snorted a bit, and brushed his hand through his hair in frustration. “Anyways, be sure to have your bag packed, cause the minute I land, were leaving. Well, maybe two. I mean a man has needs after all, and I have missed your sweet lips of yours. Those killer thighs wrapped around me to. Okay... Love you always Beautiful.” Hanging up, he sighed and tilted his head up to look at the full silver moon, making him think of you once more. You loved those aesthetic pictures, the way the stars shimmered around the giant orb, it made him recall looking back at you waving goodbye. Your braid laying over your shoulder and you kept that upbeat look on your face, the lights, they shimmered around you and it made his chest ache for you all over again. Lifting his phone, he snapped a picture.

Over the next week, his message and the picture was what you fell back to, making you smile when you found yourself missing him. Often during the busy meetings where you were busy helping set up recruit schedules, moments training when you wondered what move would he be using on the person in the ring, to lonely nights fading into mornings, where you laid there, trying to find sleep and missing his heavy body enveloping yours in that protective hold of his. This particular night, you were laying in a half slumber when you heard it. The front door click, and then Buckys rough voice remarking on the softer side in case you were sleeping.

“Son of a bitch keys and this dumb ass lock always sticking.”

You hear his voice and grab his henley you discarded on the floor to yank on and race down the hallway to your front room, he dropped his bag on the floor and held open his arms to you that left you giving a squeal of excitement, jumping into his arms. “You bastard I missed you!” you rush your words, wrapping your arm around his neck and kissing him fiercely.

“I couldnt tell” He growled as his hands slid along your bare ass, and squeezed firmly, arching his brows at your naked behind. You grin and nip at his lips, rolling your hips against him in a tease. “I knew you were coming home.”

“Uh huh, sure you did. Its hot your just wearing my shirt. But I want that off in two fucking seconds while you get that cute little ass of yours back to the bedroom.” Releasing you, you fall to the balls of your feet, sprinting back towards the bedroom while discarding the henley, hopping on the bed. Bucky sauntered to the room, shedding clothing as he went along,kicking off boots, yanking off a shirt, ripping pants off his legs. When he entered the bedroom, there you were, kneeling so pretty in the center of the bed, biting the tip of your finger as you watched him, while palming your breasts, teasing yourself just for him. He lastly yanked off his boxers and sure enough, he was aching to have you pinned underneath him, you could tell from the way his erection throbbed.

You beckoned him forward, not that he needed any encouraging as he hovered over you and pushed you back, hard kisses swelling your lips, tongue claiming your mouth and moans he ripped from you. Oh yes, this is what you been missing, his hand tight at your waist as it slid you back to stretch beneath him. Your hands wrapped around his sides to dig into his back and legs bending to grasp his waist between your knees. “You miss me sweet girl?” He asked between nips and kisses down your neck, slipping his hand between your thighs to slip through your slick, and find that sweet little trigger that as soon as he circled around it had you wriggling. It made you want more, and to chase a rush.

“As much as you missed me Sargent” You whine out, rolling your hips up to press into his erection, rocking back and forth against him. His eyes glowered almost dangerously at you, his pupils blown in his arousal, and then his fingers turned a little harder, a little quicker, just to make you tense and wriggle underneath him all pretty like you were. “Your right Doll I have missed you, missed feeling you clutch around me because your so fucking needy for my cock.” He fingers stretched your wet channel, and you cried out his name in a breathless moan, nodding in agreement. “Yes Bucky, fuck yes please. Fuck me... “

He bit on her shoulder in a bruising kiss, and shifted himself to better line up to you.”Since your looking pretty here asking me...” Grasping himself, he slicked his cock between your folds, pressing against your entrance to feel you stretch around him, both of you moaning at the sensation, mouths opened against one another, not in a kiss, but gasps shared. Your nails are driving Bucky wild as they dig almost painfully into his back just to feel you holding on. Shifting your legs to fold over him, you tighten him to sink in further, bottom himself fully in you. “Fuck Doll... this is a perfect home coming.”

You hum underneath him in agreement, pressing your face now into his shoulder and his first thrust to claim you made you whimper his name in that needy way, that urged him to continue, rolling hips to touch you everywhere and you rolled back to meet him. Bucky pulled away enough to ease you away from his shoulder and chained kisses down your collarbone and plumped a breast so that he could claim a nipple that was a tight little bud, the warmth moisture of his mouth making you arch into his mouth, sucking in more and pulling the sensitive skin from his mouth. He was marking you across your breasts, and you were sure at your neck when he claimed that flesh again, tipping your head back into the pillow to give him more room.

“Make sure everyone can see Im yours Sargent.” You pant out, knowing that everyone would see his kisses all over your skin, and what kind of homecoming it was. Shameless you were, letting everyone know that Bucky owned you. His growl vibrated through you, making you giggle softly and then gasp when his next thrust hit you just right, and he lifted his head, eyes shining bright to see your ruined face, jaw popped open, your eyes squeezed shut and crying out when he did it again. Once he felt you start to unravel, he never slowed aiming for that spot, that sweetness that left you crying his name over and over, clutching him as if there was nothing else you were capable of. Just ride it all out.

Bucky grasped your jaw and gave a light shake,to make you look at him. “Your eyes open, I want to see you cum for me.” Your lids flutter open further to try and follow his request, eyes rolling up as you start flexing harder around him. “Thats right Doll, dont keep holding back.” He groaned, licking over your lips, sucking your bottom lip and tangle his tongue around yours. Pining your hips in place to give hard quick thrusts, chasing the start of your orgasm with his own, and your bodies slammed together to rock, you were soft, and he was hard, the two of them folding together in a tangle of limbs. Bucky rolled you two over so you clutched to his chest, milking his cock for everything, and hiding your face in his shoulder, shaking. He jerked a few more slow pumps into you while riding out his own and his hands loosened there hold on your hips, sliding up your side with one hand and down to cup your ass, and keep you pressed in close.

His touch was soothing for you, and you hummed against his shoulder, lifting away enough to look down at him, kissing his lips softly with a grin. “Ahhh, well that was nice. So when you headed out on your next mission?” You teased and he growled, flipping the two of you back over, his kiss less urgent and fierce, this time it was teasing while he dragged down your body. “Your my next mission.”

You were his next mission, several more times that night until early morning.

You happened to waken first, and lifted your head to see his head tipped back and soft snores showed just how tired he was, so you were gentle to shift to the edge of the bed, preparing to get up and make coffee when his arm snaked out, catching you around your hips, sliding you back. Bucky had shifted down enough in bed to nuzzle his head in the softness of your chest, your fingers easing to brush through his hair, and watch him. “Im just going to make us some coffee Sarge.” and he inhaled deeply against your skin, finally lifting his head. “Just a few more minutes here, then I will let you go.”

You werent going to say no to that, and you remained where you were, gentle still as your fingers kept sliding through his hair, spiking it further from the bed head he already had. Finally he shifted into a sit, and went to the bathroom, groaning as he rubbed his face on the way there. Taking that as your cue, you rolled up out of bed to go make that coffee, putting on his shirt once more and a pair of sleep bottoms. Picking up the clothing he had lost through the front room and hallway on your way to the kitchen.You then ditch the pile on the couch, making your way towards the coffee pot, humming happily to yourself.

He finished and put on clean boxers before going to find his clothes from the night before, digging out his phone to check messages. “Hey you are all set to head out later right Doll?” He called as he wandered towards the kitchen where you were nowhere to be found. Looking around, he saw that the back door was halpf open, figuring you went for the fresh air, he stepped out to see you leaning against the railing, watching the sun ease up through the line of pine trees that edged the compound. Bucky went up behind you, and wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin against your shoulder watching as well.

“The world seemed to shimmer at the edges.” You lean back into his chest lightly. “Just as the sun came up, its been a while since ive seen that.” Your head tips up and kisses the side of Buckys face, and his hands rub along your hips, tipping to return the gesture, rubbing his chin against your neck and shoulder. It had been a while, but you were his world, and for him, you were always that shimmering outline waving him back home.

“You said something about heading out Buck?”

“Yea Doll.” He smiled happily “Later today, were sneaking out and hitting the road.”

“Lets just go get that coffee, shower, and Im all set to go.”

Sure enough later that day, your leaning against Buckys shoulder and holding up your phone, snapping a picture of you and Bucky, your hair hair whipping around from the open windows, both of you wearing sunglassws with open road showing in the in the background. You sent it to Steve who responded back with a simple text. ‘Dont do anything I wouldnt do you two.’

Telling Bucky, he grinned and put his foot down harder on the gas pedal, putting miles between them and responsibilities.

@p8tn0lish @what-is-your-plan-today @official-and-unstable-satan @that-damn-girl @jtargaryen18 @stardancerluv

#fluffybucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #marvel #soft and fluffy #writing challenge #ambers writing #sweater writes #sebastian stan #sam wilson #steve rogers #smut #bucky smut #soft smut

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crowleyellestair · 4 years

Text

More Than Ok- Jaskier Imagine (The Witcher)

My first shot at writing for this lot. I love this silly bard, so I thought I’d try!

If you like it and would want more (because I know there aren’t too many fics for him) please let me know.

Masterlist

Pain was all she had felt. The cut she had was just under her ribs and every heavy breath in was white hot fire. Her vision had been blurry, but not because of tears. She had travelled with Geralt enough to know the feeling of pain. It wasn’t even Geralt that had her coming along, it was his bard. She had felt a draw to him, so she had to come along. Unlike the bard, however, she could fight, and well. So anytime they had taken a job, Y/n was in the thick of it. Just like now, but it wasn’t a job that put her in this mess, nor was she near her boys.

But the draw she felt towards Jaskier was guiding her back to the camp they had set up the night prior. Her feet could barely keep up with the pace she set, and her legs wobbled more than the bard’s confidence. The dense forest wasn’t helping her get to her destination any faster, and since she was dragged so far, she started to wheeze. Y/n started to see the familiar tree pattern, and the hope filling her chest broke her strength.

Y/n fell through the brush, right into the opening of their camp. The two men had been fighting and left a couple hours from now, Jaskier following the brooding man to try and talk it out. Luckily for the gal, they had come back moments before, on edge seeing an empty camp. As she fell, Geralt quickly drew his sword, but upon seeing his injured friend faced down on the ground, he sheathed the weapon. Jaskier was quick to throw himself down by her side. He had grown very fond of the girl in front of him. Like her, he felt a draw. Y/n was like Geralt, but Jaskier believed whole heartedly in destiny. He didn’t want to chalk it up to that, but there was no explaining the raw electricity between them since the first time they met.

“Ugh. I mean, come on.” Jaskier stopped his jingle as he heard the hushed comment. The bard sat in front of the woman at the bar. He noticed her when he first walked in but never caught her face. Her figure never turned to meet anyone at the bar, but she was still pretty judgmental.

“This is the third comment you’ve made. You did think I’d notice, but I did.” The woman in front of him pulled down her hood to show him her shining eyes. A playful smile was evident, and it made his heart jump.

“A major fifth? You’ve been repeating the same four chords in the same major key for the past three minutes. All you’ve done is change the order in which you shift. Surely, you’re more talented than what you’ve shown. If not, and I were the Witcher, I would have dumped you ages ago.” Her smirk never left, even as she brought her pint of ale to her lips. She reveled in the shocked face that graced his beautiful features.

“Y-you know I’m with Geralt? You’ve heard of me?” She let our soft laugh.

“Well, there is only one bard that sings of the man, isn’t there?” Jaskier tried to recover from his starry-eyed gaze. He was quick to clear his throat and ask,

“Would I know you? I’ve heard tales of women with as much beauty as you before, but I have a feeling you’re special.” He smiled when she let out a hearty laugh.

“I doubt it, but I wouldn’t be opposed to you discovering something.” Her tone was joking, but something inside had ached to have him know her.

“Geralt. Geralt!?” He didn’t know what else to say. He started jostling her onto his lap, and looking up to the white-haired man. He felt a rush of water behind his eyes. He kept repeating the name, as it was one he usually yelled in times of trouble. The man in question walked over, looking down to the woman. Her face had blood coursing from her nose and mouth. An eye was swelling shut and her shirt was stained red. He could see the tare where a dagger must have cut through.

“Fuck.”

“W-what do we do? Geralt? Geralt, what do we-?” Geralt placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. Jaskier looked up to meet his eyes, a tear leaving him. He has never been an outstandingly brave man, but this is the first time Geralt had seen him cry. And though he can’t ‘feel emotions’, seeing his best friend like this struck a chord. And he was fairly fond of Y/n.

“I’ve got it.” He hastily walked to Roach, grabbing his bag. He knew that he couldn’t do much, but he could mend enough until they made it to the next town and find a real healer.

‘Hum’s and Ah’s’ start to fall exclusively from the bard. He wouldn’t be able to recall when, but he started to slowly remove the sweat soaked hair from her forehead. At some point, you wouldn’t be able to distinguish sweat from tears as he held her head to his chest.

“Stay. Please stay with me, Y/n.” Geralt had come back with his kit. Geralt silently ask for permission to remove the woman from Jaskier’s arms. He gently turned her so he could get at the wound.

After cleaning it, Geralt left to quickly pack the camp. Jaskier used all of his strength to bring the girl to their shared horse and hoist her up. It’s not that he wasn’t strong, but the adrenaline and fear pushed him to the max, allowing him to do it. He hoped up behind her as they almost always did, and asked,

“Which way?” Geralt pointed in the direction of the closest town.

“I’ll meet you.” A quick nod came from him and he willed the horse forward.

“It’ll be okay. It will, I promise.” Just like usual, he couldn’t stop speaking his mind. “You know, I wrote you a song. You have to stick around to hear it. It’s funny- I wrote it right under your nose.” And he had.

Every day he had his pad out, writing everything that came to mind. Usually, tunes would come to him, but he never forgot what she said to him upon first meeting. He would write down notes and chords over words, scribbling them out and replacing them. It was going to be his masterpiece. ‘Toss A Coin’ was a hit, but this wasn’t for the masses. This was for Y/n, the woman that had his heart completely. They would share her horse every day. Y/n would sit in front most of the time, and Jaskier would use her back as a writing place. They would usually switch come nightfall, Y/n resting against him and using him as a pillow.

Jaskier and Geralt had sat silently for a couple minutes now. They were trying to hypothesize what had happened in the hours they were gone. All they had known was that before they left, Y/n was trying to sleep, and they had cleared the perimeter before that. Geralt had tracked her path back to a body. Someone he recognized from a client a few jobs back. The large, gruff man had made passes at Y/n which she quickly shot down much to his displeasure. He was the client’s bodyguard. Was being emphasized seeing as the man lay dead in the forest now. His head was almost clean off. Almost.

Y/n woke up softly in the cot she had been in for an hour or so. She didn’t recognize her surroundings, but she knew she was safe. It was reassured when she looked down to find Jaskier’s jacket laying over her. It was her favorite one. The light blue color had always reminded her of his eyes. It had only been once or twice, but she had stolen it in the night, claiming it was to help keep her warm. Jaskier had stopped completely when it came to flirting with others when Y/n came into his life. He of course kept his loving nature towards others, and she had always seen that as flirting. She hadn’t known better. Because of this, she had never thought that he would reciprocate her feelings. So, she would make up tales to steal his jacket or hear one more verse.

A ghost of a smile came to her, but fell when she sat up. She lifted the jacket to find her shirt folded upwards, a green herbal treatment spilling out from bandages that wrapped around her torso. She stood, and tried to fold her shirt down, but found that it wasn’t folded, but cut all the way around. She huffed and decided to push her arm through the sleeves and pull the doublet closed. Walking out of the tent, she didn’t have time to look for the men before familiar arms wrapped around her gently. Jaskier’s face found a place in the crook of her neck for a moment before pulling back and looking at her.

“Y/n! My dearest, Y/n! I thought… How do you feel? Do you need some water? Maybe you should lay back down-.” Her hand quickly went to his chest and paused him.

“I’m ok, Jaskier. Thank you.” His eyes found hers quickly. She got lost in them quickly, somewhat forgetting the ache in her ribs.

“Are you sure?” A small smile came to her along with a nod. A hesitant hand cupped her cheek, and Jaskier’s lip got caught between his teeth for a moment. “I was worried.” She absent-mindedly leaned into the hand while saying,

“Well, I guess I had an obligation.” It was evident that Jaskier was confused. “I heard that I had a song to hear.” Y/n could see the blush quickly form and he casted his gaze to his feet.

“I didn’t think you could hear me.”

“I always hear you.” His eyes found hers again. Those blue eyes she so loved that matched the color of his jacket she wore. The eyes that seem to carry her pain away.

“Always? I think that may be impossible. Even if you did try, which, I don’t know why you would.” Her smile grew as she leaned in and placed a kiss on his lips.

“Dandi, I think you know why.” The two turned to Geralt, who chuckled at the name. He noticed the two looking at him.

“What?” A playful smile placed itself on Y/n.

“Did you not know his name is Dandelion?”

“No.” He looked to Jaskier, smiling. Jaskier’s mouth dropped wide open and looked between the two. He let go of Y/n to point at her.

“You little scamp. It is true, but- Geralt, don’t look at me like that. It’s not funny. Y/n, why would you do this?” She took a step back. The pain in her side became evident again and she threw a smile up before turning and going back into the tent.

Y/n could hear Jaskier spout to Geralt before clamoring into the tent. He turned to her and silently but quickly swaggered towards her. She turned in time to meet his lips. He pulled back and smiled.

“I assume that your kiss from before meant that you like me. The feeling is mutual. Though, I was planning on telling you through song, and not when you had your blood everywhere. That was, definitely not apart of that plan.” Her eyebrows rose.

“It’s not the first time I’ve been cut. You had a plan?” He laughed, spun and fell back on the cot.

“Of course I had a plan.” She looked at him stare at the tent ceiling. Y/n let go of the jacket, looking down to her bindings, and let the jacket fall from her shoulders. She started to make quick work of undoing them as she saw red. “It was filled with flowers and stars and music… and… magic. It was going to be perfect.” Y/n wiped of the herbs and picked up the fresh bandages she noticed lying on the table.

Y/n turned, about to ask for help but he was already standing in front of her. He grabbed them from her hand and started unfolding them.

“I thought it was ok, all things considered.”

“But you deserve better than ok.” She chuckled and looked down at his bent form that was binding her up again.

“You are better than ok.”

#jaskier imagine #jaskier x reader #witcher imagine #jaskier #geralt #geralt imagine

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tsuki-chibi · 4 years

Text

Blueberry Peach (Adrien AUGreste) Part 30: Beach

Or read it on AO3: Blueberry Peach

Also find the other parts of the series AO3: Fruitful verse

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The next morning, Adrien awoke to rain. The sound of it against his windows was actually what woke him; he rubbed his eyes as he crawled out of bed and fumbled his way over to the window. Cracking the curtains a bit revealed that Paris was swamped in dark clouds. Even as he watched, a particularly harsh gust of wind rattled the glass and he flinched back.

It was certainly no day for the beach. Not even a day for anyone to be out and about. He immediately started to worry about Marinette and her parents - they were supposed to be at the mansion in less than an hour. His concern woke Marinette, who gave a sleepy mumble. It only took her a moment to figure out where it was coming from, and then she sighed.

'Ah, Chaton, relax. We're not made of pastry. We won't melt,' she thought, stretching.

'I know. I just hate to see you get wet because of me,' Adrien thought.

'I won't get wet. This cute guy I know gave me an umbrella once, and I still have it,' Marinette thought.

Adrien smiled in spite of himself, remembering that day. It had been just after their first fight as Ladybug and Chat Noir, before Tikki and Plagg even knew that they were soulmates. That was the first time he'd told Marinette that he liked her as more than just a friend or soulmate, and she had reciprocated his feelings. It seemed so long ago, even though in reality it had been just a couple of months ago. They'd gone through so much since then.

'And we'll get through this too,' Marinette thought, pushing love and tender affection through the bond. 'So stop worrying, okay?'

'I'll try,' Adrien thought. He closed the curtains and got up, deciding that he should shower and get dressed before Marinette and her parents arrived. He grabbed a change of clothes and disappeared into the bathroom for a long, hot shower.

"Good luck, kid," Plagg said as Adrien emerged from the bathroom several minutes later.

"Thanks Plagg," Adrien said, fishing half a package of Camembert out of the fridge. He gave it to his kwami and smiled again as Plagg pounced on it.

'We're here,' Marinette thought.

'Okay, we're coming down,' Adrien thought, picking up his now sleepy kwami. He tucked Plagg into his pocket and left his room, reaching the stairs just as Amélie was opening the door.

"Good morning," Amélie said. "You must be Marinette. Adrien's mentioned you."

"Hi," Marinette said with a shy smile. She looked beautiful in a blue sundress that perfectly matched her eyes and, sure enough, she was holding the umbrella Adrien had given her back then. Their eyes met, and Marinette winked at him.

"And you are?" Amélie looked curiously at Tom and Sabine.

"We're Marinette's parents. I'm Tom Dupain and this is my wife, Sabine Cheng," Tom said. "Adrien asked us if we could drop by."

"Oh." Amélie seemed a bit confused, but she readily stepped back to allow the Dupain-Chengs in. That in itself was a vast difference to Gabriel, who wouldn't have even allowed the family across the threshold.

"I needed to tell you something and I wanted Marinette and her parents to be here," Adrien explained as he came down the stairs.

Amélie raised an eyebrow. "Okay... Why don't we go sit at the kitchen table? I think the chef was just setting breakfast out."

Félix was already in there, sitting at his place. He too raised an eyebrow when he saw them, which made him look uncannily like his mother. Adrien ignored him as he escorted Marinette to a seat and then sat beside her. Amélie took a seat beside her son, and then Tom and Sabine sat to Marinette's and Adrien's left. There was an abundance of food on the table - Adrien may or may not have mentioned to the chef last night that they would have guests for breakfast this morning - and one of the maids quickly scurried in with three more place settings. When she was gone, a heavy silence descended.

'Go ahead,' Marinette thought, looking at Adrien.

Adrien took a deep breath. "Aunt Amélie, I don't want to move to London. I want to stay here with Marinette. She's my soulmate."

Amélie's eyes widened. "Your... what? Your father didn't mention that," she said, looking between them incredulously.

"I didn't tell him," Adrien confessed. "I wasn't sure how he would react."

Félix snorted. "I think we all know how he would've reacted," he muttered.

"Félix," Amélie said, never looking away from Marinette and Adrien. "Please."

"I know this comes as a surprise," Sabine said to Amélie. "Marinette only told us last night, and we were shocked too."

"It's not what I expected," Amélie admitted. "I - this does complicate things a little. I knew you would find it a bit of a struggle to move to London, Adrien, but... I hope you can understand that I can't move here. My whole life is in London... my job, Félix's school, everything."

"I know," Adrien said, shoulders slumping. It wasn't fair for him to want his cousin and aunt to move to Paris. He knew that. And yet...

He exchanged miserable looks with Marinette.

"And Madame Sancoeur has made it clear her time with your family is limited," Amélie continued. "She's willing to continue working for your father's company, should it survive, but she wants to step away in a personal capacity. So I'm just not sure..." She trailed off, frowning.

"If I may," Tom said, glancing at his wife. Sabine nodded at him, and Tom continued. "Adrien is a wonderful young man. Sabine and I would be happy to have him live with us."

"What?" Adrien said, shocked.

"What?!" Marinette gasped. "Oh, Papa! Maman!"

Amélie looked very surprised by the offer. "I couldn't ask you to do that. Adrien is my responsibility now."

"You're not asking, we're offering," Sabine told her with a smile. "We live just down the road from the children's school, and we have an empty guest room."

"It wouldn't be a big deal at all," Tom added. "I could even teach him how to make bread." He grinned over at Adrien, who was too filled with painful hope to respond even though he loved the idea of learning to bake.

Amélie didn't say anything for a moment, looking thoughtful. Then she said, "Adrien, is that something you would like?"

"Yes!" Adrien exclaimed.

"We'd have to work out the financial aspect," Amélie said to Tom and Sabine. "I couldn't allow you two to pay for him. A child is expensive, especially a growing boy." She shot Félix a small smile. Félix rolled his eyes and shoved a piece of buttered toast in his mouth.

"We can talk about that later," Tom said with a wave of his hand. "We just wanted to put this on the table for now."

"Well, I'll have to think about it. But I appreciate your offer, and I'm sure Adrien does too," Amélie said. "I just don't know if I'd feel comfortable with Adrien being here all the time..." She laced her fingers together.

"Adrien could travel!" Marinette piped up. "It's less than three hours to London by train."

Adrien nodded quickly. "I could! I totally could!"

"You'd have to come every second weekend," Amélie said. "One weekend a month, Marinette could come with you if she wanted to."

Marinette looked delighted by that. "Really?"

Amélie smiled. "Of course. I'd like to get to know my future niece-in-law," she said. "And for holidays, I'd like it if you spent the majority of them with us... but I wouldn't be opposed to the occasional holiday here. Plus you'd have to come stay with Félix and me for at least half of your summer vacation."

"Sure," Adrien said. He was willing to agree to anything if she would only give her permission.

Under the table, Marinette's hand slipped into his and he gripped her hand tightly.

"Of course, those terms would have to be okay with you too," Amélie went on, turning to Sabine and Tom.

"We'd have to talk about it, but I'm sure that would be fine," Sabine said.

"Then I'm okay with it," Amélie said.

Adrien stared at her. "You mean... I can stay?"

Amélie looked at him, and her eyes suddenly got a bit teary. "Oh, Adrien. You're the only thing I have left of my sister. I would love it if you wanted to live with me and Félix all the time; I've hated the time that your father kept us from seeing you. But I also understand that you have your own life, and that you wouldn't be happy if I made you move. I don't want that. You're my only nephew; I want you to be happy." She started to reach out, then paused - hand hovering in the air uncertainly, like she wasn't sure if Adrien would be okay with it.

Marinette gave him a gentle, mental nudge. When he glanced at Tom and Sabine, they were both smiling at him. Even Félix was giving him an expectant look. And through the fabric of his shirt, he could feel Plagg pointedly poking him in the chest.

So slowly, Adrien reached out and took his aunt’s hand. It was a strange feeling, especially when she tightened her fingers around his hand and gave him a tearful smile.

Was this what it was like to have a family member who actually cared about you and your happiness?

“Thank you,” he said quietly, not knowing what else to say. “This plan… that would make me happy.”

“Then okay,” Amélie said, wrapping her free arm around Félix’s shoulders, still holding tightly to Adrien’s hand. “That’s what we’ll do.”

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #amelie graham de vanily #adrienaugreste #felix graham de vanily #tom dupain #sabine cheng #blueberry peach

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