#I'm positive its coming up to two years since I last updated it SIGH | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

genericpuff · 1 year

Text

my thoughts on tears of the kingdom (on a non-zelda blog)

so here's the thing, I love Zelda.

I've been playing the series since I was a child, practically raised on it by my oldest brother whom I have a 10 year age gap with. One of my most cherished childhood memories was when he got me Wind Waker on the Gamecube as a birthday present, I would have been around 7 years old and he would have been 17. Zelda was and still is a huge part of our lives.

So skip to today, we both got Tears of the Kingdom on launch day. We're both busy adults now who live far away from each other so we've just been updating each other on our progress and sending memes.

But I've got a lot of thoughts about the game that I really want to get out, as someone who's been with this series for two decades. My brother started with games like A Link to the Past and that was practically my first exposure to the series as well as it's what I would watch him play, alongside Ocarina of Time and Majora's Mask.

There will be mild SPOILERS ahead concerning the gameplay and story, so don't click the jump unless you've already played the game or don't mind getting spoiled!!! LONG POST AHEAD!

So I guess let's just get on with this, yeah? I'm not gonna separate it into "good" vs. "bad" because I find everything in this game has good shit that comes packaged with bad shit. It's a lot of pros with cons attached, so trying to separate it cleanly between "good" and "bad" isn't going to be a very productive approach.

I've seen TOTK described as "DLC" for Breath of the Wild (derogatory) while on the opposite end, Breath of the Wild has been described as the "tech demo" for Tears of the Kingdom (positive). Frankly, I can see where both sides are coming from. There are lots of elements in TOTK that feel like they could have been in BOTW, whereas other elements can confidently stand on their own separate from that of BOTW.

One such example is the new Sheikah Slate, aka the Purah Pad. While there are some features from BOTW that are surely missed (Cryonis, sigh) others have been replaced with far more beneficial features such as Ultrahand and Fuse (the bread and butter of this game) and Recall, which - controversial I'm sure - is far more functional and has way more opportunities to be useful than BOTW's Stasis ability. The Ultrahand ability alone is a massive upgrade, allowing you to go wild with the game's physics engine. The shrine puzzles are a lot stronger in this respect, having more to work with by combining the Ultrahand ability with thematic Zonai devices, often times taking you through a gauntlet of rooms with similar puzzle-solving, each more challenging than the last. There's nothing more satisfying - and doubly frustrating - than seeing the solution to a shrine you've already spent three days on and going "Wait, I could have done that???" It just goes to show that the inventive creativity necessary to solving these puzzles from BOTW has carried over twofold into TOTK.

However, I feel like these new features are less rewarding as the game goes on. While mechanics like Cryonis and remote bombs made exploring feel unique and accessible in BOTW, the lack of these features in TOTK have made exploring feel far more difficult than it should be. What used to be an easy - albeit slow - endeavor such as crossing a river by creating ice block bridges with Cryonis has now turned into an exercise in futility and physics knowledge. You can't just cross a river, you have to build a boat out of whatever resources you can find or use to cross said river. And while this is a very inventive feature that has really stretched the creative bones of its players, it's a feature that becomes draining. Sometimes you really do just want to cross a river without having to build a spaceship or a ferry. Sometimes you do just want to be able to get up to the top of a cliff without needing to build a hot air balloon. Even with the Autobuild ability, these new mechanics do really start to feel grating after a while, especially for someone such as myself who struggles with executive dysfunction and doesn't want to build yet another boat or flying car just to travel 10 feet.

Regarding that last statement, I think the inclusion of the Ascend ability helps to combat tiresome climbing, but it never seems to be an option quite as often as it could be. I've seen people praise the ability stating that it helps them avoid climbing cliffs entirely, but more often than not, I've found the ability is only usable for a third of a rocky mountain where it happens to have a platform jutting out that's close enough for Ascend to reach - with the rest of it encouraging you to just climb up naturally, or, you guessed it, use the Ultrahand ability to build your way up. The Ascend ability - like Statis from the game's predecessor - is very specific and not accessible enough in the world's design to make it actually helpful. You know exactly when and where you're supposed to use it, and trying to use it outside of those instances won't get you anywhere. Of course, I'm not going to judge this ability too hard because it's still more than what we had in BOTW, but I find its application isn't quite as useful as it could be.

And boy, there are a lot of things in TOTK that don't have as strong an application as they could. I think there's no truer place this could be said than the expansion of the game's map, through The Sky and The Depths.

Disappointingly enough, just like in Skyward Sword, which suffered for having a strong premise but weak delivery with an open sky that had nothing to do in it, Tears of the Kingdom has barely fleshed out its Sky and Depths areas enough to make them feel memorable or worth going out of your way to explore. Once you've explored 10% of either, you've experienced all of it. While the Sky and the Depths each have their own dungeon, neither of them really feel justified enough to explain why they had to be there. The Depths don't add anything to the nature of the Fire Temple - by the time you're finished with it, you'll forget you're even in the Depths - and while the Water Temple does have the addition of lowered gravity up in the Sky, no other islands have this, so it feels like a random addition in the way of a gimmick that doesn't actually play much of a role in the dungeon's puzzle-solving.

As for the Depths, I do have to say that the game introduced it in the best way possible. No one spoke of them, outside of an NPC in Lookout Landing sending you on a quest to find a nearby one, but they still don't describe to you what you're about to come upon. It wasn't in any of the gameplay trailers. You see a big hole in the ground with gloom coming out of it, you know you can jump down into it, but it's not until you actually do that you realize you're diving down into the belly of a completely different beast. Link keeps falling and you're realizing how dark it's getting and hoping you can pull out your paraglider in time to hit a ground that you realize you cannot see - when the music shifts and the horns blare and your stomach sinks realizing just how dark and vast this place is.

The Depths are what I truly fell in love with in this game. I was struck with that primal fear in my gut that I hadn't felt since playing Majora's Mask as a child. For the first time in forever, I felt like the smaller species, like a speck of dust in unfamiliar territory. It was a welcome feature for a game that - if you had preceded it with Breath of the Wild - needed something to shake things up.

But, unfortunately, that initial thrill wears off eventually. The Depths become just that - a vast expanse with nothing in it. Aside from the odd treasure chest containing a piece of gear, the Bargainer's Statues, and a couple main story quests that take you down there, the Depths have nothing. Mapping them out is a feat in and of itself, even more daunting than mapping out the above ground with its tens of lightroots, but once you get at least 50% through the map, you realize that there's really nothing else to it. In fact, the map of the Depths exactly mirrors that of the map above you, with even less to do due to its lack of notable landmarks (outside of a central mining area, the Korok Grove, and the aforementioned Fire Temple), lack of biome distinction between areas (aside from the Eldin area created specifically for the Fire Temple), and lack of shrines. Once you figure that out, mapping out the rest of it is an unfortunately boring cakewalk.

I think both of these new inclusions in the game are unfortunately half-baked, making TOTK in and of itself feel like a tech demo for something that could have been more expanded upon. That said, it's a tall order, to ask for the game to run an in-depth open world map on three separate levels - the hardware itself already often struggles to load the Depths if you dive down into them too quickly, as the fall itself is its own cleverly hidden loading screen - but it's a shame to see it essentially repeat the mistakes of Skyward Sword, and it's where I feel that "this could have been DLC" complaint comes from.

There are features that feel like mild downgrades from BOTW, such as its new Fuse ability to fuse together weapons. While it seems inventive at first, the amount of inventory being carried over from BOTW makes the gameplay grind to a halt as you scroll through your pop-up inventory list to find the right thing to attach to your arrows or weapons, often times mid combat. While you can sort your menu into different sections - such as 'most used' and 'most powerful' - such a thing could have been fixed by allowing the player to create their own custom lists of items or just reducing what is and isn't capable of being fused. It feels like an unnecessary extra step thrown in to BOTW's weapon degradation mechanic just to make it feel more unique.

Moving on, this is where I want to talk about the game's story. Like the last game, it asks Link to piece together the memories of companions already gone. The story woven within these memories is a tragic one, with an emotional depth to it that I found myself relating far more to than in BOTW, which asked us to sympathize with characters who we had never met and were already gone. On the flipside, TOTK manages to tell a similar story with a lot more emotional depth, now using Princess Zelda as the tether between the present and the past, in a way that I feel works much better than in BOTW. Its climactic twist felt like something you would find in Spirited Away, and its one that I felt was appropriate for the game's setting and themes. That said, I still do not find myself compelled by this game's version of the Champions, similarly to what I experienced in BOTW. At the very least, it brings back cast members from BOTW for us to connect through, such as Purah and Lady Impa, who I was happy to see return.

And then there are the Sages.

I have a lot to say about the Sages.

The Sages have to be the single worst inclusion of this game. And that's not to say they ruin the game, but in a game full of wonderful moments and amazing gameplay, they definitely feel like a tarnishing C- on an otherwise perfect report card. Just like in Breath of the Wild, the game's main story gameplay is the weakest part of Tears of the Kingdom. While BOTW had Link conquering the out-of-control Divine Beasts, TOTK asks Link to unearth ancient temples and awaken the spirits of sages long gone for their powers to be reborn through their descendants, three of which happen to be the successors of BOTW's Champions: Riju, Sidon, and Yunobo. While the development team and press surrounding this game called these temples "traditional dungeons", they are fundamentally the exact same as the Divine Beasts, following the same 4-beat structure in which you have to activate 4 'locks' (themed around the dungeon's setting) to unlock the dungeon's boss. I found these dungeons were often even easier than the Divine Beasts of BOTW, essentially asking Link to solve four separate shrine puzzles to get to a boss that follows a simple mechanic loop. While the bosses are far less repetitive than the Blights of BOTW, they are also far less intimidating or punishing, barely requiring any extensive thought to figure out how to overcome them. The hardest boss in the game - the Gibdo Queen - ironically had one of the easiest dungeons out of the four.

But here's the thing - Tears of the Kingdom is built the exact same way as Breath of the Wild, giving the player freedom to choose the order in which they complete dungeons, if they even choose to complete them at all... but unlike past Zelda games which offered this freedom, TOTK fails in how it delivers these dungeons and the narrative surrounding them. I was miffed upon completing my second dungeon - the Fire Temple - and realizing that the cutscenes it presented were the exact same as the first one I did - the Wind Temple - and sure enough, that same cutscene played out from its respective sage for the following Water Temple and Lightning Temple. They are all the same. While one could argue this was their way of navigating around the freedom of choice - to allow the player to experience neutral cutscenes that won't be out of order or out of context - the memories themselves are also out of order and out of context so having the dungeon cutscenes be varied should be a feature, not a bug to patch out. Currently, with its repetitive cutscenes and what you gain from completing a dungeon, it makes them far less enjoyable to do, knowing you're essentially just doing one big shrine with a giant enemy (one you can find in the Depths for farming, which makes them feel far less unique or imposing) with the reward of a heart in the end.

Of course, I'm forgetting to mention the other reward you get after completing a dungeon. Sage abilities. The biggest downgrade from BOTW by far.

In BOTW, upon completing a Divine Beast, you would be granted with an ability from its respective Champion, typically a passive one - meaning, if you had the ability enabled, it would activate on its own or you could trigger it a specific way, such as Mipha's Grace which would automatically revive you once in between cooldowns (basically a fairy you didn't have to catch) and, the fan favorite, Revali's Gale, which could be triggered by holding down the jump button and would grant you so much more ease of exploring.

Tears of the Kingdom, instead, asks "What if we made all of the Champions their own characters who could run around you, get in your way, and offer even less useful abilities?"

The present Sages - Yunobo, Tulin, Riju, Sidon, and Mineru - are akin to a teenager taking way more dogs than they could handle out for a walk. They are five nuisances who will run away from you when you need them, and run around you when you're just trying to pick up an item, causing you to accidentally trigger their abilities which are simply mapped to the A button. Too many times I've had them trigger a fight with enemies I was trying to avoid, blow away loot I was trying to grab, or blow up explosives that I wasn't aiming at, killing me outright. While they can be turned off, I feel like it could have been far easier to implement them in a way that wasn't so distracting and obtrusive - currently, the way they're implemented basically demands you keep them turned off until you absolutely need them. Considering a map of the Switch controller buttons comes up with the A button highlighted, it begs the question, why even have the other three buttons visible onscreen if they can never be mapped? Why not make use of different buttons for different companions? Or make them passive abilities similar to that of the Champions from BOTW? Overall, their inclusion feels clunky and not well thought out, and their abilities aren't near beneficial or useful enough to justify this much headache. At most, Yunobo is helpful in blowing up rock walls when you don't have Bomb Flowers, and Tulin is helpful in gusting you towards a landing spot while gliding through the sky, but that's about where their usefulness ends. Unlike in BOTW, the efforts required to gain their abilities barely feels like a reward, but more of an obligatory chore, making the dungeons feel even less rewarding to do.

With all that said, unlike in BOTW, Tears of the Kingdom never becomes a smoother experience to explore. The effort you put into completing the dungeons and gaining better weapons and gear never feels rewarded with anything substantial or worth working for. The Sage abilities are a burden and give very little benefit to exploring or combat the same way BOTW's Champion abilities did, the dungeons themselves aren't experiences worth writing home about, and the story is so milquetoast and repetitive that once you beat one dungeon, you've experienced all of them.

That said, while I've done a lot of complaining, there are a lot of things about the game I'm enjoying compared to Breath of the Wild. One such thing are the sidequests - there are a LOT more of them in this game, and many of them feel far more engaging and rewarding than Breath of the Wild. Accessing the Great Fairies requires an actual sequence of quests now, in which you bring a travelling band back together, and from that point forward, you can always hear them playing their music at the stables scattered throughout Hyrule. Hateno has its own questline that rewards you with what's possibly Link's greatest piece of fashion ever, Cece's Hat. Even the small quests feel more rewarding to do because TOTK feels far busier than BOTW did. There are far more NPC's, and the world itself just feels more lively; I wouldn't expect any less in the sequel to BOTW which experienced a cataclysmic event that wiped out the population of the kingdom. It's nice to see the difference in how the towns operate in TOTK because you can feel it through its sidequests. There are still Yiga Clan members in disguise on the surface, but it's far less now compared to BOTW where you couldn't talk to an NPC on the road without getting shanked.

Of course, it wouldn't be a BOTW sequel without one of its most daunting sidequests of all - the Korok Seed quest. This time, there are 1000 Korok Seeds to find, with new puzzles to find them, most notably the escort quests, which require you to build whatever godforsaken Roman-era torture device you need to build to get wandering Koroks from Point A to Point B.

That said, the unfortunate news I have to break to you after finally seeing someone complete the quest themselves - all that awaits you in the end, once again, is "Hestu's Gift" which I have to say, isn't as quite as funny the second time around. While in BOTW it felt like a funny nudge at completionists, in the vein of "Haha, look at you! You worked so hard to get all those seeds and all that awaited you was a pile of poop! It's all in good fun! The real prize was the adventuring you did along the way!" but having that be the end prize again in TOTK where we're exploring regions we've already explored before feels far more passive-aggressive, like it's making fun of you for really doing what the devs expected you to do a second time, with a snarky, "Seriously? You're that stupid? You really thought there'd be something new this time?" Especially considering the Koroks exclusively populate the Sky and the Surface - giving players even less incentive to want to explore the Depths, further robbing this new expansive area of less identity. Ironic that the Depths, an area so big that it requires its own hidden loading screen, would end up having even less to do than the Sky itself, which barely covers any surface area in the game's overall map by comparison. It's a damn shame the devs couldn't be bothered to think of something to reward the player with for all their work. At least in BOTW it could be said the reward was the exploration, as so much of BOTW's map goes untouched by its main story and its world was brand new to us back then - it's not brand new now, though, and the areas that are new are going completely unused.

I realize this review is getting quite long, but I want to close it with one final point - Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom's place in the Zelda franchise.

There's a startling lack of one specific thing that makes a Zelda game truly Zelda, despite the dev's best efforts to return its old school elements such as traditional "dungeons" and its nods to previous games in the title through its referential gear sets implemented right into the game (vs. exclusively as DLC in BOTW) - and that's the Triforce.

It's said that a true Zelda game can't contain its core triad of characters - Link, Zelda, and Ganondorf - without containing the Triforce in the center of all of it, and yet Tears of the Kingdom did this, and frankly, it just proves that point.

Anyone who knows me knows I'm not good at singling out a 'favorite'. Whenever people ask me what my favorite Zelda game is, my mind races through all the titles I played as a child - Ocarina of Time, Majora's Mask, Wind Waker, Twilight Princess - and yet I rarely think of Breath of the Wild and likely won't think of Tears of the Kingdom either. It's not for lack of trying or consideration, I do think both Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom are respectable games, both inclusive and exclusive of one another, but rarely does my mind go to them because to me, they don't feel like true Zelda games. And I didn't realize why until I recalled that the last game we had featuring Link, Zelda, Ganondorf, and the Triforce as core setpieces... was Twilight Princess. A game that will be turning seventeen this year, and will likely be twenty by the time the next mainline Zelda game releases. And one could argue even Twilight Princess doesn't count because Ganondorf was a last second addition - if we want to be really obtuse about it, technically we haven't gotten a game featuring Link, Zelda and Ganondorf as our main characters since Wind Waker, a game that turned twenty years old last year!

I felt its absence especially in Tears of the Kingdom, seeing Ganondorf manipulate his way into stealing the sigh 'secret stones' (I'm sorry but that name is so fucking cringe, please just call them "sacred stones" or "mystic stones" or SOMETHING more interesting than "secret stones", we don't even get any sort of lore or hinting towards where they came from, they're just magical McGuffin's with a stupid name) but not once mention his true motivations prior to finding out about the stone's existence. There was no emotional motivation such as what can be seen in The Wind Waker through a Ganondorf scorned by his lost culture and the kingdom that he just wanted to see wiped out to make things even; or Ocarina of Time Ganondorf who sought to access the Sacred Realm and take the Triforce and all its power for himself. Shit, there wasn't even a mention of Demise, the massive plot-twister of Skyward Sword, which Nintendo attempted to make the ultimate explanation as to why the games and their stories experience the same warring cycle from generation to generation; an explanation that could have worked, if they had actually followed up on it through BOTW and TOTK - yet, despite having the opportunity to do so, seem to just be whistling around the issue, pretending like it's not there. Despite having an Ouroboros in its title art, this cycle of death and rebirth is noticeably gone in Tears of the Kingdom.

Look, I get it. The developers have already stated that they're intent on moving forward with its open world format in future Zelda games. It's making them a lot of money. It's refreshing. It's bringing new fans into the franchise. And it's bridging the gap between generations by re-introducing classic exploration elements of retro Zelda while trying to also balance the narrative elements that modern post-N64 Zelda fans have come to expect.

But when you tear apart all the original components of a franchise, of its themes, its characters, its stories, and replace them with new components only slightly reminiscent of the old... can that franchise really be called the same thing anymore? When people ask me what my favorite Zelda game is, I don't think of Breath of the Wild or Tears of the Kingdom because to me, they're just not Zelda games. They're just what they are - Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom. Nintendo had a huge opportunity to make Tears of the Kingdom into a game that could tie its predecessors together with a neat little bow, and yet it still took the half-baked way out, layering it instead with its own story that doesn't even really work or take advantage of the foundation it's standing upon. They're their own games, and that's okay, but I can't help but feel that the further we go down this road, the less it'll encompass what made Zelda what it was to begin with.

And yeah, I'm sure I'm just being a typical 'old Zelda fan' who's complaining about the exact same thing that people complained about in games like Wind Waker and Twilight Princess. But when your Zelda game featuring Link, Zelda, and Ganondorf does not mention a word of the Triforce, I think both retro and modern Zelda fans can agree to even a slight extent that you can't have Legend of Zelda without the Triforce. That would be like having Super Mario without Power Stars (or some equivalent of them) or Kirby without its existential nihilism or Sonic without Chaos Emeralds. Sure, you can have games in their franchises without their respective trademarks, but do it enough times and people will start to notice something's seriously off. I think we can all agree that while Twilight Princess and Wind Waker may be, aesthetically and thematically, completely different games, you can't deny they're Zelda games at their core because they still have that signature cast fighting over those pesky golden Doritos.

In this respect, Tears of the Kingdom feels like it's suffering from the same problem Star Wars is suffering from - it exists to spite the titles that came before it, but knows it won't succeed without the fans of those titles so it makes as many cheeky references to those titles as it can without paying actual respect to them. It even opens the game with references to things that retro gamers will recognize - Rauru, Ganondorf recognizing Link's name, etc. - but then all those elements are later revealed to be unique to TOTK, such as Rauru being the first King of a Hyrule that's exclusive to the BOTW timeline, or Ganondorf only recognizing Link's name because a time-travelling Zelda told him his name, not because it's the same Ganondorf of titles' past. It feels incredibly disappointing to have all this setup and so little payoff especially for these games that are claiming to be the 'next step' for the franchise. It feels less like a 'next step' and more like a complete reboot for a different audience. These games are not reminiscent of what pulled me and my brother into the franchise way back in the day.

But I dunno, maybe it's a weird hill to die on. I don't want to be one of those "not my Zelda" puritans but when the games don't even contain elements of what made them distinctly Zelda back in the day, down to its trademark features, it makes me wonder what exactly where the series is headed.

Anyways. That was a lot. I do want to make it clear that I am enjoying this game, very much so, but like many games that top the charts with solid 10/10's on release, I feel like there are definitely still places the game could have been further refined, despite the extra year it took to polish it. From the inconvenient gameplay halters like the inventory fusing, to the obtrusive butchering of the Sage abilities, so many things could have been tightened up just a bit more to further improve on what Breath of the Wild started, rather than trade out what BOTW did for weaker alternatives. It's a game of gimmicks, rather than one of substance. While Breath of the Wild lacked substance itself in many regards, it at least had the benefit of being a brand new format, with a vast world one could spend hours exploring - with that same world returning in Tears of the Kingdom, with very little done to flesh out the attempts to expand it, it very much feels like it's simply riding off the coattails of Breath of the Wild, and in that regard, I can agree to an extent with the "DLC" arguments, while also agreeing that there are things in TOTK that very much improve on BOTW and make it look like a tech demo.

One thing I will recommend in the end to those of you who might be reading this - do not play Breath of the Wild right before Tears of the Kingdom. Whether it's your first time playing BOTW or you're wanting to revisit it, don't do it. I was fortunate enough that my last time playing BOTW was several months ago, but I've seen loads of people not enjoying TOTK because they replayed BOTW in the days before its release, and let me tell you, this game is far less of a unique or fun experience if you play BOTW right before playing TOTK due to the world design. If you play them one after the other, you'll burn yourself out on it and not get to appreciate what TOTK adds to BOTW's world as much as if you had gone in partially or mostly blind.

And that's all I'm gonna say on that. Tears of the Kingdom gets a 8.5/10 from me. I am excited to see where the franchise goes next in terms of its open world concept, I hope Nintendo can at least stray away from this version of Hyrule so we can get something new like we did in BOTW. Tears of the Kingdom was by no means a negative experience for me, and I'm planning on getting back into it tonight and tackling more of its sidequests, which are probably one of my favorite parts of the game. I could very well be way too hard on it, so this opinion could change over time as I spend more time in its world, but these are my general experiences that have come up in the back of my mind over the past couple weeks since its release.

Thanks for reading!

#tears of the kingdom #tears of the kingdom review #long post #tears of the kingdom criticism #legend of zelda #TOTK #zelda #breath of the wild #BOTW #review #game review

75 notes · View notes

fullconstellationalt · 3 years

Text

You Weren’t My Mission: Ch. 1

Chapter One – A Second Encounter

TW: alcohol, implied violence

Note: Hello! All chapters will have warnings at the beginning of their content and possible triggers. If you find that I miss any triggers, please let me know and I will add them to the chapter warnings as soon as possible. Thank you! <3

Series masterpost

Also available on Wattpad and AO3

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

His eyes were fixed on yours, gaze intense despite the physical distance between you. If the sight of his metal hand hadn’t confirmed that it was him, then his face solidified it. You’d seen this exact glare in your nightmares for years now. Although nearly a decade had passed since the last time you saw him, you had never been able to shake the memory. It was him, and you were sure of it. ･:*:･ﾟ☆

Your thumb swept around the surface your glass, collecting the droplets of condensation that had begun building up. With one final swig you downed the remainder of your gin and tonic, eyeing the entryway on the lookout for any newcomers.

“You all done for the night, y/n?” Vincent wandered over, dish towel in hand, to collect your glass that was now only filled with ice and a slice of lime. He knew your routine by now — you only ever came by for a single drink after work, people-watching as you unwound before heading home to your quiet apartment. While you hadn’t ever told him that last part, he figured that if you had somewhere urgent to be that you wouldn’t be here every night, although he’d never ask.

“I’ll have another, actually,” you declared, voice unsteady as you weren’t sure in your choice. Typically you’d have one drink and leave, occasionally staying around a bit longer to sip on some water if you really didn’t want to go home that night. But the week had been long and it was only Wednesday; you wanted — no, needed that second drink.

“Sure ‘bout that?”

“Yea, I’m gonna hang around a bit longer tonight.” Vincent’s eyebrows raised as he did a slight nod, reaching below the counter for a new glass, to which you let out a playful scoff. “Don’t act so surprised,” you teased, “I mix it up sometimes.” While you rarely talked, you and Vincent had become more comfortable with your banter over the past year or so. Even the most guarded of patrons like you couldn’t avoid small talk with the bartender — especially not if you were a regular.

As you waited for your drink you scanned your surroundings, looking to see if anybody new had come in for a drink. Weeknights tended to be slower, but there were a few couples and groups of friends scattered throughout the room. You and a man no younger than 50 were the only ones seated at the bar, him closer to the entrance while you sat furthest away at the seat you knew had the best view of the place. Almost every night you were in this exact spot, sipping slowly on whatever drink you’d ordered, checking your phone for the occasional text message or work email, and people-watching. It was pretty rare for you to spend more than an hour there in one evening, but tonight it had been nearly an hour and here you were ordering a second drink.

You jumped when Vincent placed the new glass in front of you, your mind focused on the other people scattered throughout the room. He let out a light chuckle as he turned around, walking towards the other side of the bar; he was pretty used to your skittishness by now. Hand wrapped around your new drink, you brought your focus back to your surroundings. A couple seated at a small table to your right engaged in small talk, exchanging pleasantries in-between awkward sips of their drinks. Definitely a first date, you thought. A burst of laughter from a booth further away caught your attention, where a group of men in suits sat meeting for a drink after work. Aside from that, there was little commotion in the bar tonight. While commotion made for fun people-watching, you preferred the gentle hum of casual conversations on slower nights, the occasional clinking of glasses from Vincent’s cleaning or a new table being served.

Realizing a few minutes had passed, you grabbed for your drink and took a sip, eyes skirting over the rim of the glass as you spotted movement in the entryway.

Suddenly, you wished you hadn’t ordered that second drink.

A tall figure entered the bar, shoulders swaying with each step. When he came to a stop you finally took him in, eyes scanning over the black leather jacket that spanned his broad frame and running down to his hands. Dressed in all black, the flesh tone of his hand stood out. Which made the metallic black of his left hand all the more apparent, confirming what you had hoped was just another instance of unnecessary panic.

The brooding figure wasn’t foreign to you.

Your eyes glossed over as you remembered the last time you’d seen him all those years ago. While the nightmares weren’t as frequent and you were able to go days at a time without thinking about it, you were still able to vividly remember the moment. The way his eyes had met yours, menacing and unforgiving as you held back a wail of pain from the pressure of debris pressing on, or into, your torso. The fear that ripped through you when you registered the M4A1 in his tight grip, barrel pointed in your direction. The way you laid there, shaking and ears ringing, wishing that he, whoever he was, would keep moving past you, that he would leave you be. He had done just that, only pausing for a moment to assess your helpless position before lowering the barrel of his gun and trudging onward in his search for his true target.

So many times since then you thought you’d seen him again, only to sigh with relief when you saw the two flesh hands of whoever had startled you.

But this wasn’t one of those moments, and the sight of his metal hand confirmed it. It wasn’t silver like the one in your memory, but there were only so many guys out there with bionic left arms.

You came out of your trance to find that his eyes were fixed on yours, gaze intense despite the physical distance between you. If the sight of his metal hand hadn’t confirmed that it was him, then his face solidified it. You’d seen this exact glare in your nightmares for years now. Although nearly a decade had passed since the last time you saw him, you had never been able to shake the memory. It was him, and you were sure of it.

With a slight roll of his shoulders and a subtle nod, he dropped his gaze to the floor and began his slow descent towards the bar.

The sip of gin and tonic you had taken still sat on your tongue as you finally lowered the glass, letting the liquid slide down your throat and feeling the tingling sensation travel down to your chest. Your breath was shallow as your hands started to shake, to which you began fidgeting with the closest thing in front of you — the paper napkin that had been under your glass. As you ran your fingers along its corners and kept your eyes glued to the bar top, you felt his presence near yours, confirmed by the sound of heavy footsteps that approached.

The scent of fresh balsam and a bit of mint flooded your senses as you noticed him standing to your side, giving you a moment to take in his presence before sliding into the seat to your right. Having kept your eyes trained on the napkin at your fingertips, you subtly glanced over, noting the metal arm that was closest to you. It’s really him, you confirmed. Instead of a reflective silver like the arm you remembered, this one was much darker, a black metal with hints of gold in between the plates. You couldn’t see further up than his wrist, the rest of his arm concealed by the jacket.

It took everything in you to refrain from bouncing your leg against your barstool. Maybe if I stay as still as possible, you thought to yourself, I’ll make it out of here alive. You had no clue what he wanted and it terrified you.

The desire to fidget became all the more intense as you felt him shifting his upper body to face you while in his seat. Your breath hitched when his flesh hand came into view, extended for a greeting in your direction. He let out a low sigh as you shifted your gaze slightly, glancing at his hand before sheepishly making eye contact with the man who had once both threatened and spared your life. You watched as he slightly parted his lips, allowing for a gentle smile to form at the corner of his lips.

“Long time, no see, Miss y/n. I’m James ‘Bucky’ Barnes, and you’re a part of my efforts to make amends.”

Next Chapter (Chapter 2 – Making Amends)

A/N: Thank you for reading the first chapter of this story! I'm currently drafting up what will come next, but am in the end of a semester so it may be a few days until I have something ready to publish. This is my first longer work and I'm looking forward to the journey. Stay tuned for updates, and please let me know if you have any comments or questions!

#Bucky Barnes #James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #Winter Soldier #winter soldier fanfic #marvel fanfiction #Sebastian Stan #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #angst #bucky makes amends #you weren't my mission #bucky fanfic

103 notes · View notes

hazel-writes · 3 years

Text

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female OC

Summary: Aristeia, an ambitious and self-reliant journalist on Tatooine, crosses paths with a Mandalorian after a harrowing encounter with Imperial remnants.

Word Count: 5,000

Warnings: canon-typical violence, death

A/N: Oh my gosh, I finally did it. After months of reading some absolutely incredible Mando fanfics, I took the plunge and started writing my own. I'm so excited to share this with all of you!

This fic starts during episode 1x5 and will loosely follow the show's timeline (I will be taking many creative liberties). The first chapter is from Aristeia's point of view, but I'll be going back and forth between her POV and Din's afterwards. I jump straight into the action in this fic, so if things seem a little crazy at first, don't worry, all will be explained soon :)

This is my first time writing for our favorite space cowboy, so any and all feedback is welcomed! If you want to keep updated on this fic between updates, check my bio for other places you can find me. Also, a Spotify playlist to accompany this fic is coming soon!

Without further ado, please enjoy this chaotic mess of a chapter! ♥︎

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Aristeia sighed as she weaved her way through the busy streets of Mos Eisley, Tatooine. It was almost sunset and most people were heading home after long days at work. A layer of dust rose around the feet of those attending to last-minute errands. She watched as a woman bought a large red fruit from one of the street-side vendors. A soot-covered teenaged boy stood by the neighboring building, stocking up on mechanical supplies. Near his feet, two sunburnt children fought over a small toy. The scene was normal to her: ever since settling on Tatooine years ago, Aristeia had slowly grown accustomed to the slow and gritty flow of the planet.

As she continued walking, she kept her head down, eyes always focused a few steps ahead of her feet. However, whenever someone neared, she would look up briefly to offer them a small smile. Most of the time they ignored her, scowled, or rolled their eyes, but every now and then, someone would return her gesture. Those moments made the effort worth it.

Unlike the people who meandered around her, Aristeia was just starting her work for the day. She kicked up clouds of dirt as she made her way to the recently-abandoned mechanic’s shop. She used to frequent it back when she had a speeder, but after the owners passed away, it had unfortunately turned into a popular site of criminal activity. A few days back, she had intercepted a transmission that mentioned a meeting at the location, and as a journalist, she had to be there to see what was going on. Armed with a small notebook and stylus, she was prepared to document the whole thing.

Turning the corner of a dusty alley, which was littered with miscellaneous tools and sheets of scrap metal, the old mechanic’s place finally came into view. Its exterior architecture was similar to that of the rest of Tatooine, however its dark and doorless entrance led to an underground network of small rooms. With every step Aristeia took towards the building, her anxiety grew. Unlike her other investigative stakeouts, she was going into the mechanic’s blind. The transmission didn’t reveal a whole lot about the nature of the meeting, which she knew meant it was of special importance. These were the kind of meetings that could provide her with a groundbreaking story. They were also the kind of meetings where someone could get hurt.

Aristeia had never been good at fighting – physically, at least – but she did give herself credit for not having died so far, especially in her line of work. Put a blaster in her hand and she’d probably shoot her own foot off. However, put a pen in her hand, and she was a force to be reckoned with.

Aristeia had been writing ever since she was young. It started with little stories: she would go into a crowd of people, find a quiet place to sit, and observe each person that passed by. She would notice what they were wearing, how they carried themselves, who they were with, where they were going, and then she would make up the ‘why’: Why were they dressed like that? Why did they walk like that? Why were they with this person or that person? Her imagination would stitch together the missing pieces of their backstories, creating life narratives of people she had never even met. She did the same thing now from time to time. In fact, people watching was imperative to her role as a journalist.

As Aristeia grew older, she and a few friends decided to start a local newsletter that got sent out to residents of Mos Eisley every month. It was by no means a ‘professional’ establishment. The writers were all residents, many of them barely adults, who wanted to keep their friends and family informed about any activity that could threaten the freedom they had fought so hard to gain after the fall of the Empire.

A group of giggling children ran around the corner, pulling Aristeia out of her thoughts. She watched as they kicked around a near-deflated ball with bare, dust-covered feet. Sighing, she turned back around to peer down the steps of the abandoned mechanic’s. It was just beginning to get dark and the suns had nearly reached the edge of the horizon, casting eerie shadows on the stairwell walls. She looked for any sign of movement in the space below and when nothing seemed to be stirring, she made her way down the packed-dirt stairs and entered into the main room.

The area was small with not very many places to hide, immediately making her anxious. She had never been a fan of tiny spaces. But this was too important of a mission for her to give up now. She looked to her left and spotted a large plant, which obviously hadn’t seen any light or water for quite some time. However, its pot and leaves could be big enough to hide her if she was able to fit behind it. It’s not like she had very many options to choose from.

A noise from above forced her into action. She darted behind the plant as fast as she could, curling herself up against the corner of the wall. The sounds of heavy footfalls met her ears. There were at least five people making their way into the room she was in. From between the leaves of the plant, she could make out the forms of two stormtroopers and a tall, lanky man in a gray uniform. Imperials.

After the fall of the Empire, most people on Tatooine had celebrated immensely. They believed they had finally achieved freedom. It was hard for Aristeia to share their excitement, knowing how many lives had been lost on both sides. She also had always been a realist, never letting herself get too comfortable when everything seemed to be coming up roses. She had been tracking the movements of rogue troopers around the city for a while, trying to figure out who they took orders from and where they were located. In recent weeks, she had intercepted a few transmissions referencing what the Imps called ‘the asset’. Just one day before, she had caught word of a meeting scheduled to take place in the room where she was now hiding. She knew she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get more intel. Once she had enough information, she planned on writing a massive expose, informing all of Mos Eisley to her discoveries.

A raspy voice broke her train of thought: “Have you found the asset?” Peering around the plant’s leaves, she saw that it was the man in gray who had spoken.

“No, not yet,” a Klatoonian replied gruffly. “We tracked the ship to this city. As far as we know, the Mandalorian still has it.”

A Mandalorian… Aristeia shuddered. There wasn’t much in the galaxy that she was terrified of anymore. Sure, she often felt scared. In fact, she was scared most of the time; it’s part of what kept her alive for so long. But there was very little that truly terrified her. Mandalorians were one of those things.

She shook her head, forcing herself out of her spiraling panic. Focus on the facts, she thought – it was a phrase she repeated often when overwhelmed with her work. Focus on the Facts. The Imperial man’s mention of the Mandalorian was new info to her. All she knew from previous transmissions was that the Imps needed the asset for some sort of experiment. She didn’t understand it too much – she was never very good at science.

Aristeia reached into her bag, pulling out her notebook and stylus so she could document her new discovery. As quietly as she could, she opened the front cover of the journal, flipping to the next blank page.

As she did so, her finger caught on one of the pages, slicing a thin cut across the pad of her pointer finger. Kriff, she whispered, accidentally dropping her stylus as she moved to nurse her injured finger. She realized her fatal mistake too late.

“What do we have here?” she heard a voice drawl from above her. The Klatooinian, who had taken a few steps toward Aristeia, peered around the edge of the plant before looking back at the Rodian. “Is this one yours?”

Aristeia scowled at the suggestion. “No, I most certainly am not.”

The two men chuckled, infuriating her even more. “Why don’t you come out so we can take a better look at you?” the Rodian suggested with a devilish smirk.

“Yeah, cause that sounds like it would end well for me…” she mumbled, trying to think of a way to escape the predicament she had gotten herself into.

The uniformed man and his two stormtroopers stayed quiet throughout the ordeal, seemingly bored by the other mens’ interaction.

“She must be terminated. She has heard too much,” the man in gray finally chimed in.

At this, Aristeia started to panic. She was in deep bantha munk this time. Sure, she had been in tricky positions before – it was kind of a requirement of living on Tatooine – but this was bad.

“I didn’t hear anything, I swear! I was just…” She stood up slowly and looked around the room, trying to find an alibi. “...admiring the plants?”

She mentally facepalmed at her attempt of a lie, something she was never very good at. It helped her in a journalistic sense, as she always did her best to remain objective in her articles. She recognised the power that came with telling the truth, especially now, in the wake of an empire founded largely on lies. However, in this case, she could’ve used a good fib. Admiring the plants, really? she scolded herself. After a moment of silence, the uniformed man directed a curt nod at the stormtroopers, who then advanced on her quickly.

Springing into action, she attempted to kick the chestplate of the trooper closest to her, but missed, only managing to clip his knee. Nonetheless, it threw him off-balance, sending him stumbling into his fellow trooper. She took the brief opening to run as fast as she could towards the stairs that led back up to the main street. She got halfway up, mere feet away from freedom, before a large hand yanked her back down the steps harshly. She fell backwards, scraping her elbows and knees on the hard dirt before hitting her head on the floor, hard.

She couldn’t see anything but blurry spots of white and orange as strong and grimy hands pulled her across the floor, back to the troopers. The one she kicked earlier returned the favor, sending sparks of pain through her abdomen. Footsteps approached and a heavy boot landed between her shoulder blades, forcing her against the floor. Another second passed before she heard the charging up of a blaster from above her head.

Aristeia closed her eyes, cheek pressed to the dirt, accepting her fate. She forced warm memories into her mind, not wanting her last thoughts to be of the man whose heavy boot currently pinned her to the ground. Her mind danced from memory to memory, finding it hard to focus on any one image for too long: a familiar, tender hand ran its fingers along the curves of her face; trees towered over her like arrows aimed for the stars; a single candle cast a warm glow over pieces of parchment; a sweet smile, one she probably would never see again, beamed through the darkness...

A burst of blaster fire sounded from above her head. As if shooting her once wasn’t enough, she thought, before realizing that it wasn’t possible for her to make sarcastic quips if she was dead. She opened one eye, then the other, only to stare right into the lifeless face of the man in the gray uniform. It was a sight she was sure would stay with her forever.

“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.”

She finally looked up, not recognising the deep modulated voice that sounded from above her.

A shining wall of silver met her eyes, his blaster pointed at the Klatoonian. A Mandalorian, she thought. Waves of terror flooded Aristeia’s body. It was almost as if the universe had plucked him straight out of one of her nightmares and dumped him deliberately at her feet. She was familiar with the Mandalorians, more than most, but seeing one after so many years still managed to send shivers down her spine.

Focus on the facts. Focus on the facts. she repeated to herself.

Something about the way the armored man carried himself made her realize that this wasn’t just any Mandalorian: this was the Mandalorian, the one her attackers had been discussing moments earlier.

His presence seemed to fill the whole room. She found her eyes involuntarily moving up his figure, taking in the pure power that emanated from his armored form. Her gaze landed on his face, or where his face should’ve been. Instead, all she could see was her own terrified reflection in his dark, deadly visor.

When the Klatoonian didn’t make any effort to move, the shiny man looked down and gave her a barely perceptible nod to the side. She knew exactly what he was telling her to do.

As fast as she could, she rolled to her right, hearing blaster shots fire above her as she did so. She scrambled back towards the plant she was hiding behind earlier and watched as the armored man fought the others. While the Mandalorian was distracted with the Rodian, the Klatoonian aimed his blaster towards his silver chestplate. Aristeia considered shouting to the metal-clad man in warning, but didn’t want to draw any more attention to herself. To her horror, she watched as the Klatoonian pulled the trigger.

The Mandalorian, however, sensed what was coming and ducked. The blaster beam rebounded off of a large metal sheet that stood propped up against the wall behind him and hit the Klatoonian square in the chest. He fell to the floor, lifeless. To Aristeia’s surprise, she heard the Mandalorian curse, seemingly frustrated by the death of his attacker. The stormtroopers took his moment of annoyed distraction as a sign to run, bolting back up the stairs before the Mandalorian could stop them.

Aristeia’s senses slowly started to come back to her, as did the pain in her stomach, hands and knees. Unsure of the Mandalorian’s intentions, she scrambled on the packed dirt, trying to find the notebook she had brought with her. She finally found it tucked between the wall and the nearby plant pot.

She turned to see the armored man, having knocked the Rodian unconscious, finally focus his attention on her. She grabbed the stylus that she always kept clipped to the side of her notebook, the one that had caused all this trouble to begin with, and held it out in front of her as threateningly as possible.

The Mandalorian casually put a hand on his hip and popped one of his legs out slightly. His helmet tilted to the side incredulously. If she wasn’t so scared, she might have laughed at his almost-lazy posture.

“Hey, they say the pen is mightier than the sword, right?” Aristeia shrugged nervously, still directing the stylus towards the silver mass in front of her.

He ignored her comment and dipped his helmet towards the bodies on the floor. “What were you doing with them?”

She debated whether or not to tell him. His low, warning tone made it seem like she didn’t have much of a choice. So far, he hadn’t made any move to hurt her, despite the fact that he had every opportunity to. Even now he kept his distance, almost like he was trying not to startle her any further. That, or the stylus really had scared him.

“I’m a journalist,” Aristeia responded. “I was trying to get some information for my next story when they found me.”

She shifted on her feet when he didn’t respond right away.

“Story?” he finally repeated, almost like he was skeptical of the word.

“Yeah.”

She knew it must sound silly. Her stories, and journalism as a whole, probably weren’t on this man’s radar. A lot of people thought that her profession was impractical and meddling, but obviously the work she did was important enough to gain the attention of the Imps.

Whatever the Mandalorian was thinking prompted him to mumble something, turn on his heel, and start back up the stairs. Aristeia was left speechless, her hair settling back into place after being disheveled by the sudden billowing of the Mandalorian’s cape.

She looked around the room at the bodies littering the floor, remembering briefly that the troopers had escaped. That alone almost ensured her certain death. They had seen her face – it was only a matter of time before they would find her. Already regretting her decision, she heard herself calling out to the Mandalorian who had reached the top of the stairs: “Wait!”

He stopped his movement, pausing briefly before slowly turning to face Aristeia, who now stood at the bottom of the stairs. She looked up at his figure, which from her angle looked more commanding than ever, his silver armor backlit by the setting suns.

Finally finding her words, she spoke. “Please, I… I need to get off this planet. You have a ship, right? The troopers who ran, they’ll tell the others, they’ll come after me.”

She hated how desperate she sounded, but she didn’t know what else to do. Her friends barely had enough money for speeders. Most of them had never even been off the planet. All she knew was that she needed to leave, and soon.

“Why would they waste your time on you?” the Mandalorian asked, probably unsure how a girl armed with a stylus could possibly pose a threat to the Imps.

She ignored his underestimating tone before replying. “Because I overheard what they were talking about. Once they find out who I am, they’ll kill me.”

“And who exactly are you?”

Kriff, she thought. If the Mandalorian found out just how invested she was in her recent investigations, he could use that against her. “Well… I’m Aristeia.”

The Mandalorian voiced a frustrated sigh. “And?”

“And…”

She was about to answer when she spotted a blinking red light out of the corner of her eye. Upon further inspection, she found its source: a tracking fob held in the Mandalorian’s left hand. Of course, she thought. He’s a bounty hunter. The Klatoonian must have been his bounty – that’s why he was upset when he was accidentally killed in the crossfire.

Aristeia felt her heart rate spike as she devised the best way to backtrack on her previous request for help.

She slowly made her way towards the Mandalorian, subtly attempting to get back up to street level. “...and I really should be getting back to work, so if you don’t mind, I think I’ll just head back up those stairs now.”

The Mandalorian, unfortunately, noticed the unusual change in her disposition.

“What’s the sudden rush?” he asked as the arm carrying the fob shot out to stop her escape.

“No, no, it’s nothing! I really should go. My… husband is waiting for me,” Aristeia lied. The Mandalorian just stared, his arm remaining in place. “He gets upset when I’m late.” She offered with a fake smile, trying desperately to alleviate the tension. When he still didn’t move, she continued. “He’s very big. And uhh… He’s a sheriff!” she added, for good measure. The Mandalorian cocked his head slightly to the left in response, as if seeing how far she would take her lie. “And he has lots and lots of weapons. A whole armory with guns and knives and other… spiky things.”

“Spiky things?” he asked, almost amused.

“Well, yeah.” she replied, but it came out as more of a question.

“Well, you know what I think?” he said, taking a few sauntering steps forward. His posture oozed confidence – one hand was hooked on his belt, just in front of his blaster, while the other hung casually at his side.

Aristeia took a small step backwards. “W-what?”

“I think you have a bounty on your head.”

Kriff, she thought. He’s good.

Aristeia took another step back, but the Mandalorian closed the distance quickly. She held up her hands placatedly.

“Look, I don’t… know if there’s a price on my head. I’ve always just assumed . Over the past few years, my friends, the other journalists here, they’ve been going missing. It was pretty obvious that the Imps didn’t want us sharing their activities with the whole planet. Recently, things had been pretty quiet, at least until they started freaking out about this whole ‘asset’ thing.”

The Mandalorian’s posture straightened and his towering body leaned towards hers menacingly. When he spoke, his voice lacked all the nonchalance it had earlier and instead radiated a seriousness that chilled her to the core. “What do you know about the ki- the asset?”

Aristeia, regarding his sudden change in demeanor, stuttered in response: “N-nothing really – Shouldn’t you know?”

“Nothing really?” he repeated, completely ignoring her question.

“Just what I’ve heard over the coms.” Shoot, she thought. Shouldn’t have said that.

“You have access to their coms?” he asked, a sliver of surprise peeking through his gruffness.

She did. It was one of her biggest accomplishments since arriving on Tatooine. One evening, she had been at her desk, listening to random transmissions on an old faulty comlink her mother gave her years ago. She would do this every night, never once picking up on the voice she was desperately waiting to hear. Instead, she usually caught onto feeds from people nearby: small business dealings, calls to family working out in the dunes, even the occasional secret teenage correspondence. Aristeia enjoyed listening to the small snippets of the others’ lives; it gave her hope in a world that she seemed more and more disconnected to with each new day.

But on this night, she had intercepted a transmission that was far more concerning than her typical listening content. Two voices, one that she now knew was the man in the gray suit and another who she assumed was a stormtrooper, crackled over the comlink. Within a few minutes, she not only knew that the Empire wasn’t dead, but that they were also situated right on her doorstep . After making this discovery, she made sure to keep her com set to that specific feed, which is how she ended up finding out about the meeting that led to her current encounter with the Mandalorian.

“Sometimes I have access,” she responded to the Mandalorian’s question with a nonchalant shrug. She basked in the power that this information seemed to give her over him. “It depends on how close they are, the wind levels, and if my tech is even working that day-”

“Where do you live?” he interrupted hurriedly.

Aristeia suppressed a laugh. “Excuse me?”

“Where do you live?” he repeated slowly, though this time it came out as a more of a modulated growl.

She laughed nervously. “No way, you seriously think I’d tell a bounty hunter where I lived? That’s like breaking every single rule of common sense. I mean, come on, think of this from my perspective.”

His posture relaxed minutely and he released another sigh, this one less frustrated than the previous. “If I wanted to hurt you, I would’ve done it by now.”

She recognised the truth in his statement, but that didn’t mean she was willing to go out of her way to help him. For all she knew, he could take the coms and turn her in afterwards. Aristeia tried to get a better read of him, but unlike most people she met, she couldn’t. She didn’t have any guesses as to who he was, what his intentions were, or why the ‘asset’ was so important to him. In a universe of starry galaxies, he was a black hole.

“What do I get out of it?” she asked, trying her best to sound confident. She countered the slight relaxation of his own stance with the newfound boldness of her own. “Helping you, I mean.”

The Mandalorian scoffed beneath his helmet. “I saved your life, I think that’s qualifying enough.”

“You were just going after the Klatooinian.”

“And if I hadn’t, you’d be dead.”

“Wow, consider me comforted.”

He sighed, clearly agitated by her retorts. “If you show me the coms, then I won’t tell the Guild about the little notebook operation you’ve got going on down here,” he said, waving a gloved hand towards the bag that carried her journal.

“And now I’m being blackmailed. Fantastic.” she muttered, running a hand through her hair.

Aristeia stilled, evaluating her options. She could either ignore the Mandalorian and risk having him reveal her, and her work, to the Guild, or help him and hope he returned the favor. Neither option was ideal.

“Fine ,” she relented. “Just give me a second.”

Aristeia took the Mandalorian’s lack of response as a signal to go ahead, and made her way back into the darkness of the room that now reeked of death. She tried to think back to the days when she would come to the mechanic’s to repair the many malfunctions her speeder frequently sustained. She always enjoyed the loud and hectic bustle of the establishment. Its owners were kind and would always let the neighborhood kids hang out and watch them work on one project or another, occasionally even letting them help out. Those times seemed distant as Aristeia approached the body of the fallen Imp.

“Hey, you wanna hurry it up down there?” a gruff voice sounded from above.

“Really?” Aristeia replied, astonished at the Mandalorian’s near-childlike impatience.

“I thought you had some husband with a large collection of spiky things who doesn’t like it when you’re late?”

Hearing him repeat her previous lie out loud made it seem even more ridiculous, but she ignored him and continued to move towards the gray-suited man.

“What are you doing?” he called from above, seemingly untrusting of her retreat back to the main room.

Oh my stars, she thought, surprised by her own annoyance at the Mandalorian. Her initial fear had evolved into irritation at his constant attempts at intimidation and control. She couldn’t let her guard down though – she could lose her leverage at any moment and then who knows what he’d do with her.

Aristeia reigned in the sarcastic comment she was about to make and instead answered his question with a restrained sigh. “Seeing if they have any information.”

“In case you didn’t notice, they’re dead. They can’t help you.”

Obviously, she thought with a roll of her eyes, but didn’t say so out loud.

“Yeah, but their pockets can.”

Aristeia stared at the man in gray. Even though the blaster bolt to his chest all but guaranteed his death, she still approached his body warily, as if it could come back to life at any moment. Avoiding his hollow gaze, she dug through his pockets, searching for any more information that could prove useful to her future articles. All she found was a handwritten note containing some sort of coded language she didn’t recognise. She folded it carefully and put it in her own pocket for safekeeping before heading back towards the Mandalorian.

By the time she joined him at street level, the suns had already set. He took a few steps forward but paused when he felt her hesitate behind him. She felt weird leaving behind the mangled bodies of the men in the darkness below.

“We should move the bodies,” she said cautiously, her eyebrows furrowed in confliction.

“No time,” the Mandalorian replied simply, turning back towards the street.

“Please,” she pleaded, looking to her left where a group of children played in the distance. “I- I don’t want any kids finding that.”

He silently followed her gaze and stood completely still for a moment, as if debating his own response. Aristeia tried, and once again failed, to get a good read of what was going through his head.

“Fine,” he finally said. “I’ll get them in the morning.”

She would’ve liked them taken care of sooner, but it seemed that there was no room for negotiation. To be honest, she was surprised he agreed to her request at all. Something was different about this Mandalorian, and she couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing.

“Which way?” he asked, referencing her house. The one she stupidly agreed to take him to, Aristeia thought.

“Uh…” She paused briefly, but it was a moment too long for the Mandalorian’s liking. “This way,” she finished, pointing down an alley to her left. She hiked the bag she carried higher up on her shoulder and took a few steps forward before feeling a hard tug on her arm.

“Hey, I wouldn’t recommend trying anything. It wouldn’t end well for you,” the Mandalorian said threateningly. His visor stared down at her coldly and she suddenly grew extremely frustrated by the fact that she couldn’t see his eyes. She felt vulnerable under his gaze and didn’t like it one bit.

“Let go of my arm,” Aristeia replied, her voice low and serious. His grip remained strong. She stared daggers up at his helmet and it was the first time since meeting him that she was truly angry. “I said, let go.”

To her surprise, she felt his grip loosen and she promptly tugged her arm away from him. Her posture radiated confidence, but the fear in her eyes betrayed her. Without a word, she spun around and continued heading in the direction of her small house, not sparing another look behind her to see if the Mandalorian was following.

He was.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Masterlist || Next (coming soon!)

#supernova fic #hazel writes #hazel's fanfic #the mandalorian #mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin fanfic #din djarin #grogu #din djarin x female oc #star wars fanfic #star wars #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #quotev

10 notes · View notes

rwbyremnants · 3 years

Link

Think of this as kind of a bonus apology for taking a couple weeks off; I thought I could post two updates right in a row (even if for two different fics). Sorry this chapter was so plot-heavy but I hope ya like it!

=Chapter 30

When Kali returned with Mrs. Schnee, Blake still wasn't back yet, but they had barely started to ladle out the stew when she breezed in the door. At least she hadn't lost so much sense of decency that she would make both their mothers feel out of sorts by refusing to show up in time for dinner.

After they ate, Blake caught Weiss alone and apologised for losing her temper. She forgave her and they went their separate ways for the night… though she couldn’t help feeling the matter wasn’t entirely settled. Blake would have to work through her feelings more completely or it would just happen again, which neither of them seemed to want.

“She’ll get over it,” Yang said in a calm tone as she held her hand in the backseat. “But yeah, that was pretty scary. She really thinks you’re… doing that?”

Weiss knew Yang was being careful not to drag Kali into the conversation, since she was the one driving them. They had already dropped Willow off, but Weiss decided to remain behind a little longer to spend more time with her girlfriend; her mother had looked unenthusiastic, but tried her best to hide it behind a diplomatic smile. Scooting a little closer, she laid her head on Yang’s shoulder, both for the creature comfort and to enable them to keep their voices down.

“She does. But I’m not! I mean… I did ask about it once, but I asked. That’s it, I swear!”

“I believe you, Schnee. But why does she act like it’s a fate worse than death?”

“Are we going to openly acknowledge that you’re talking about myself and your mother, Weiss? Or not?”

Cringing, Weiss sat up straighter and looked into the front seat at their chauffeur. “Sorry! But I didn’t want to betray Blake’s trust!”

“It’s alright,” Kali chuckled as she turned the wheel, bringing them past the diner. “She’s been making a few snide comments about how much time I’m spending with Willow. Even though I assure her that it’s strictly platonic, Dragons business… well, I’ve had a few relationships go awry in the past. She’s more protective than she ought to have to be.”

Weiss frowned, staring down at her knees. “It would be nice if she didn't behave as if my mother is some kind of, of… leper! Why shouldn't she be good enough for you?”

“Sweetheart, it isn't about tha-”

“You know, it really starts to wear on a girl's confidence when nobody seems to want her or her family around. I'm a good person! I try my best to treat my friends fairly, to look out for my mother and my girlfriend, and everybody seems to hate me for it! What more do I have to do?”

When Kali had no immediate reply, Yang sighed. “Aaaaaaand now we're talking about my mom. Great.”

“I never said that,” she hedged.

“Didn't have to. But I want you around, okay?” She leaned over to press her lips into Weiss's cheek. “And I'm planning on it for a long time.”

That went a long way toward soothing her nerves. A lilting “awwwwww” came from the driver's seat, but both girls ignored it completely. They were too busy snuggling and comforting each other.

It was highly tempting for Weiss to simply drop Yang off at her home and leave it at that; they had a fairly good evening together, all things considered, surprising as it was given that they had just watched one of their own be brutally whipped. But it was that last reason that impelled her to stay. Even though Yang had never explicitly stated it, she had a gut feeling that having to watch that affected her girlfriend more than she was letting on.

This time, Raven made no comment whatsoever when she saw the other two women entering her home. She and Kali shared a brief nod before they passed by the living room and into Yang's bedroom.

“Do you think we'll always have to sit around in here instead of being able to use the actual living room?” Weiss asked as they settled on the bed.

“Who knows?” the blonde answered gruffly. “You ask that like I really understand how my mom thinks anymore.”

Kali sighed from her spot on the corner. Privately, Weiss thought it might be worth investing in one of those church folding chairs Kali kept in her house for future visits. “I do. Trust me, understanding her won't make dealing with her any easier. More importantly, are you okay?”

“What?”

“You had to bear witness when Neo got flogged today. That takes a toll on a person even if they don't want to admit it.”

The light in Yang's eyes seemed to go out at being reminded of the ordeal. “I'm fine.”

“Are you?”

“There's not really any point in being anything other than fine. Right? What's it going to change if I'm not?” Neither of them responded right away. Frustrated, the brute moved forward out of Weiss's arms and began to pace. “I know you guys are just checking up on me, and I appreciate it, but buzz off, okay? I'm gonna be fine.”

“Yang-”

“No, Weiss! I'm…” Clenching her teeth, she turned and folded her arms over her chest while staring at the curtain over her window. “It had to happen. She hurt you. Even if she didn't do it herself, she helped make the woman I love come closer to death than she ever has in her whole life, and I can't… I won't ever forgive her for that. Even if Salem will, I can't do it!”

“You forgave me.”

All eyes went to the doorway where Raven was standing, leaning against the jamb with her arms folded as tightly over her own chest as her daughter's were. Her gaze was as empty and dead as it had ever been, but at least her entire focus was upon Yang.

“Mom… that's different. We both know you were never going to hurt Weiss unless she gave you a real reason to - and a cream puff like her couldn't do that.”

“Hey!” Weiss protested - but Raven was already chuckling harshly under her breath.

“All right, all right, so you've got me pegged. Maybe you ought to fill me in on what happened to you today.”

The three current Dragons spent the next few minutes filling Yang's mother in on the events of the day and what had led up to them. She listened impassively, neither expressing outrage nor disdain for either side. Once she had the full scope of the situation, Raven spent another minute mulling it over.

“And none of you know the name this mute girl wrote down?” When Kali shook her head, her old friend sighed. “Figures. Salem always plays things close to the chest. Always found that irritating.”

“You won't hear me disagreeing," Kali said. "But I also understand her position; we already had one traitor, and she doesn't want to hand off information so easily to any other potential turncoats.”

Shaking her head, Raven stared down toward her work boots. “She's really giving the girl a second chance? I wouldn't.”

“I know you wouldn't,” Kali whispered. There was a flicker of recognition in Raven's eyes, but she didn't comment aloud. Then she raised her voice to continue, “Yang had to watch Neo be chastised. She's had to help Weiss heal from her branding, her arm got wrenched out of its socket… and got an eyeful of what happened to Cinder, which I promise is not for the faint of heart. Don't you have anything to say to your daughter?”

“Like what? That she's tough? I knew that already. Glad she's proving me right.”

Even while a small, fierce smile was coming to Yang's lips, Kali sighed in irritation. “That's all?”

“Great,” she chuckled harshly, shaking her head again. “Here it comes - a lesson from the moral high ground, delivered by Reverend Belladonna. All right, let me have it; I'd like to get this over with so I can get back to watching TV.”

Kali didn't respond. She merely stared at her former friend for a long moment, as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. Weiss had rarely seen her looking so out of sorts, even if she had definitely seen her that angry before.

“What?” Raven prompted.

“Doesn't matter.” Much to their surprise, Kali stood and walked to the door, waiting for Raven to move out of her way. “Weiss, I'll be in the car. I have a crossword puzzle to do.” Raven certainly didn't stop her, and the woman stormed out of her house.

“Mom…”

“Don't you start, Yang.” When neither of the girls spoke up again, she threw up both hands and snapped, “I don't like being told how to live my life, all right? Kali was always good at that. Just not something I care to listen to anymore.”

“Maybe she's wrong about… whatever point she was trying to make,” Yang told her earnestly, though her voice was trembling with mild anxiety. “But you probably oughtta stop acting like she's only saying this stuff to make you mad.”

Scoffing, her mother finally dropped her hands to rest on her hips. “What other reason is there? She made all the right choices, I made all the wrong ones. All that's left is for her to rub it in my face.”

“You really don't know her at all,” Weiss mumbled.

“No, I don't know you at all. Kali is someone I know extremely well - she hasn't changed much in the past twenty years.”

“That woman has been more of a mother to me than my own mother has these past years - and I'm nobody to her! Even if you two have some kind of past… that doesn't represent everything she's ever been or ever will be! Can't you try to get to know the woman she is now before you dismiss her completely?”

Finally, Raven strode into the room, hands flexing as if she were going to launch herself at her daughter’s girlfriend. A glance at said daughter seemed to change her mind, and she stopped a foot away. “You have no idea,” she snapped down at her, those hypnotic eyes sending doom and gloom at the young cheerleader. “I would have given her everything - and that big lummox, Ghira? He may not have been as flighty as my Taiyang, but he's still gone, isn't he? So where are we both now? Alone. Alone, thanks to her being too chicken to- forget it. Not that there's any reason for me to tell you any of this, you, you… rich little cockroach!”

Yang rose from the bed, a hand reaching out for Raven’s shoulder. “Mom-”

“Save your breath. Neither of you understand anything. Kali didn't, Tai didn't… and this little arm candy of yours understands even less. In a week, she'll let you down, too - and then you'll see. Can't trust anybody but yourself. That's all I've ever tried to teach you to get you through this miserable life.”

Though Yang looked stricken as her mother turned on her heel and stomped off toward her bedroom, slamming the door like a child throwing a tantrum, Weiss was smiling. It took Yang a few seconds to notice, and a few more to formulate a response.

“What? What's so funny?”

“Nothing's funny. Don't you see?” When Yang only looked at her dumbly, she paced over and grabbed her hand, whispering, “She's opening up! Sure, she still doesn't trust me and hates my guts, and that's irritating, but she's starting to reveal why! This is a positive thing!”

Shaking her head with a weak little chuckle, Yang glanced at her door. “You are really a 'glass half full’ kind of chickadee, ain’t you?”

“Not particularly. But in this case, I'll take what I can get; she's your mother. Whether or not either of us wants to admit it, her opinion is really important. If there's any sliver of a chance I can maybe show her I'm not so bad, or that Kali's not so bad… isn't it worth it to try?”

Instead of answering with words, she wrapped her hands around Weiss's waist and pulled her in for a deep kiss. The two of them let it go on for longer than they probably should have, given that her mother was in the next room, but they couldn't be bothered to care at that instant; they just needed the intimacy, the closeness. Physical reassurance that their love was worth fighting for.

Some five minutes later, they broke apart when they heard the bedroom door bursting open. Though she didn't look at them directly, Raven grumbled, “Shouldn't keep Kali waiting like that. Go home, little Schnee. Yang will still be here to neck with tomorrow.”

And then she left again. As Weiss got up from the bed and brushed down the front of her dress, Weiss favored Yang with a sweet little smile. “See?”

“See what?” Yang laughed, face still flushed from their indiscreet moment.

“She still cares about Kali. And she didn't try to tell me I'm not allowed to ‘neck’ with you in her house again.”

Rolling her eyes, the brute stood and gave Weiss another little peck on the cheek to send her on her way. “That's not exactly picking out China patterns for us.”

“True,” she sighed airily as she began to pace toward the door. “But progress is progress.”

----------------------------------------------------

It was the middle of the night when Weiss was jarred from a sound sleep by the blaring of a car horn. She was so startled that she fell out of the bed in her haste to try and stand up as quickly as possible. Going to the window showed Kali's car, Yang already sitting on the passenger windowsill to get her attention. The waving arms weren't all that necessary, but they did help encourage her to move a bit faster.

“What's going on?” Whitley yawned as she passed him in the hallway, still dressed in his pajamas while she had already changed into jeans and a peach-hued blouse.

“None of your concern! Just… just go back to sleep!”

“Is this somehow because of you and those hoodlums?”

Through clenched teeth, she told him, “Back… to your room… and mind your own beeswax, alright?” He did not persist.

Yang's and Kali's faces were both masks of grim seriousness as she approached the car. She tried to ask what the matter might be, but neither of them responded - they merely waited for her to get in the car, and then they were off into the night.

“So,” she began in a quiet, nervous voice. “Anyone care to tell me what this is all about?”

Yang didn't speak at all. It took Kali a moment to glance at her in the rearview mirror and say, “Our biggest lead has gone cold.”

“Oh. So Neo's information turned out to be wrong? Or was she lying?”

“Not exactly.”

Weiss continued to try to wheedle information out of both of them for the rest of the trip, but they remained tight-lipped. They both seemed as groggy and irritable as she felt, which she could understand; they were all supposed to be sleeping, obviously.

In some surprise, Weiss noticed they were heading toward the same flat where Watts had patched up Yang as best he could. What were they doing in Huntsmen territory? She half-expected one of their number to come out of the woodwork, driving them back to their own stomping grounds. But no such event ever came to pass. They found an out-of-the-way spot to park a block over and Kali claimed it as silently as the rest of their trip had been.

“Hey,” Sun greeted them with a nod as they approached the door. Blake was already standing nearby and chatting with him, likely waiting for them to arrive. “You can go right up. We’re just waiting for Salem.”

As they entered and climbed the stairs, Weiss pressed in close to Blake and whispered, “What's going on? Nobody will tell me anything!”

“Thought you already had everything figured out,” she snapped. When Weiss only scowled at her, she sighed. “All right, I'm sorry. I think it's my time of the month or something.”

“I'm not really angry. I just want to know what's going-”

By that point, they were entering the waiting room where she had spent so much time fretting over Yang's fate. There were quite a few more Huntsmen in there this time, including the huge, burly one that was to be Yang's opponent before she convinced them to race. Watts himself was dressed in scrubs, though he had apparently concluded whatever examination had prompted him to don them in the first place.

Weiss relegated herself to one of the corners, trying to seem unimportant. Lately, she'd had enough of everyone assuming she was partially to blame for everything that went wrong. They weren't going to do that to her again - or at least, she wasn't going to paint a target on her chest for them this time.

“We are just waiting on Salem and Sienna now,” said Watts when he noticed Kali there. He didn't seem to have any concern for Yang or Weiss at all, and even less for Blake.

“Very good,” Kali answered him. “Would you mind if young Wukong accompanied me in there to examine the body?”

“By all means.”

That did catch Weiss by surprise. Body? But she didn't dare speak out, simply watching as the blond boy escorted Blake's mother into the examination room. Everyone else remained somber and silent.

“Who died?” she finally asked Yang some five minutes later, trying to keep her voice down to the quietest whisper possible.

“Nobody you knew. Don't worry. But… it's still not great news.”

The next time Kali emerged, she was dragging Neo out by the waist. The girl was making the most horrible noises of distress, gripping the doorframe and fighting with all her might to stay in there.

“Come on!” she was grunting. “Don't… any of you know sign language? Tell this girl there's nothing she can do!”

“Leave her be.” That was the way Salem chose to announce her arrival. Instantly, Kali let Neo go and turned to face her leader. “I presume that the examination has finished?”

“It has,” Watts told her with a weary sigh.

“You're going to get it now,” growled a man with a missing tooth. “We knew your truce was fake, and now we have proof!”

“Shay, relax.” Straightening his tie, he continued to address Salem directly and ignore all others in the room. “You're either angling for even more power than I previously thought… or…”

“Or?” she prompted.

“Or this is not your doing. The slug is obviously from a police-issue pistol. You Dragons don't even touch guns unless it's absolutely necessary, so either this was intended as a message to us from you… or from them.”

Salem contemplated that for a long moment, tapping her chin where it lay in the shadows beneath her hood. “We wouldn't be above it if we had exhausted all other avenues. But in this case, you're right; this had nothing to do with the Dragons. Well…”

After the pause became quite pregnant, Watts prompted, “Well?”

“Well, it may have something to do with one Dragon.”

Every eye in the room turned to look at Weiss. She tried for a moment or two to pretend she didn't notice, but it was an exercise in futility. Shrugging her leather-jacketed shoulders, she said, “What?”

“This is your fault, isn't it?” Sienna said in a flat tone. “Can't resist poking the bear.”

“How dare you accuse me of such a thing! I don't even know who that is in that room - what possible reason would I have for killing them?!”

The High Dragon herself turned to face Weiss directly. “His name was Roman Torchwick. A relatively sleazy character, but also relatively harmless; selling his services to the highest bidder. Though burning down our safe haven is a new low for him.”

“Your Neo was smitten with him,” Watts explained dispassionately, finally peeling off his rubber gloves and shoving them into the pocket of his scrubs. “Whether or not it was Roman in disguise, or her, they probably conspired together to set the blaze.”

“And to drug Emerald,” Blake put in, just to connect the dots faster.

“Hey, you guys can lay off anytime,” Yang snapped angrily - and Weiss found herself falling in love with her all over again for coming to her defense. “Why would she pay somebody to stab herself? That's crazy!”

“Didn't say she did,” Blake protested with a weary sigh. “I'm only making sure we remember that they did both of those things. Doesn't that clear Weiss?”

“Yes, but not her family,” Salem answered immediately. “And I think we all know which member I'm thinking of at this moment.”

Throwing up both hands in resignation, Weiss half-squeaked, “What am I supposed to do about it? He already more or less admitted to setting the fire, and he didn't care! The man has no remorse whatsoever! I… I can't even see him as my father anymore!”

“Control yourself,” Kali said gently, but firmly. “Our next step needs to be determining how he's arranging for these ‘accidents’ from inside the jailhouse. Not throwing around blame amongst ourselves.”

“It’s obviously someone on the police force,” said Watts as if it were an understood fact. When he was greeted by blinks from the others, a single eyebrow hiked. “Really? You’re skeptical? There can be no other manner of his manipulation.”

“It is likely,” Salem admitted. “But Ironwood runs a tight ship.”

“Even a tight ship can spring a leak.”

“Alright,” Yang sighed, running her fingers through her hair. “Let’s say it’s the cops. What do we do about it? I mean… call me a looney, but I think we gotta stop this now! He’s just gonna keep doing it. Maybe he would have stopped if Weiss quit the Dragons before, but now…”

Kali finished the thought for her. “Now, he wants revenge.”

From there, the conversation devolved into a discussion of potential methods of catching the mole in the police department. Weiss got a little lost; after all, she was no expert in such espionage. Besides, even if he had completely turned against the rest of the family… he was still her father. Her love couldn’t so easily be erased, even if it was slowly boiling down into hatred.

After a while, Weiss excused herself quietly and slipped into the examination room. Neo was crouched by the table, clutching the hand dangling from under the sheet and rocking back and forth. She started to call out to her — before remembering that would do no good. Instead, she crouched down by her side and touched her shoulder.

“Hey.” Neo didn’t catch that. She blinked up at her as if confused by her presence. “Can you read my lips?” She nodded, numb and distant. “I’m sorry. He was your friend?”

That started a fresh wave of crying that made Neo push her face into the corpse’s hand. Yet another situation in which Weiss felt more conflicted than she felt possible. This girl had caused her to suffer through the most horrendous injury of her entire life… but she was a human being, and in mourning for her accomplice. If Salem had forgiven her following the severe punishment…

Her hand began to pet up and down her back as she whispered “I’m sorry,” even knowing it would not be heard. To her surprise, the words were repeated — when Neo said them, they were more difficult to understand, but Weiss didn’t need her to repeat it again at all.

Once she looked up again for a response, Weiss said, “I’m sorry, too.” Neo made a fist in the center of her chest and moved it in a circle a couple of times. “Does that mean ‘sorry’?” When she nodded, Weiss repeated the action, and Neo pushed her small face into her shoulder, sobbing freely now.

“Great,” she sighed, embracing her tightly and beginning to rock. “Always wanted to make friends with an accomplice to my attempted murder.”

#princess and the dragons #freezerburn fanfic #rwby fanfiction #rwbyremnants #death tw

3 notes · View notes

shoutosun · 3 years

Text

Glue Sticks & Super-Moves

Chapter 2: Tea Time and Muffins

Pairing: Kirishima/Midoriya

WC: 2175

Genre: Fluff, Slow Burn, Quirkless Midoriya Izuku, Pro-Hero Kirishima Eijirou, Post-Canon

How kindergarten-teacher Midoriya Izuku and pro-hero Kirishima Eijirou fall in love.

Originally posted on AO3

It always felt a little strange coming back to UA.

None of it felt smaller; the halls were still grand, and the doors still loomed over his frame, but it certainly felt odd, walking the halls as an adult.

Izuku had visited UA many times before, though he mostly kept to the teacher’s dorms. He usually came to see Hitoshi or Eri, and by extension, Shouta and Hizashi.

The only other person he ever visited was Principal Nedzu.

“Ah, Izuku! Welcome!” Nedzu said, flashing him a bright smile. “It is always a pleasure to meet with my former students, and this is no exception! It has been far too long since we last had the chance to chat!”

Izuku gave his former principal a polite bow. “Good to see you again, Nedzu. Sorry I couldn’t come by sooner.”

He walked into the office, taking it all in. Not much had changed in the last three years—the walls were still white, there was a plant in the back corner, and a large bookshelf to his left—though a few more pictures were on the wall than he last remembered. One was of All Might and Lemillion two years ago, both of them beaming for the camera. Izuku tried not to let his eyes linger for too long.

(While he was more than happy with his chosen career path, occasionally, the heartbreak he felt on the rooftop all those years ago would flit through him. His heart would clench uncomfortably in his chest, the pain only soothed by the memories of glitter, sock puppets, and laughter.)

“Would you like some tea?”

Izuku tore his gaze from the photo and sat in the chair across from the principal’s desk.

“Yes, please,” He said, taking the offered cup. It was his favorite kind.

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, relishing in the sweet warmth of their tea. While he sipped his drink, Izuku spotted a miniature snowglobe on the desk. It was one he was very familiar with, having bought it for Nedzu on his first (and only) trip to see his dad in the United States. He had spent almost an hour debating the pros and cons of various souvenirs before his mother finally forced him to settle on the small trinket. Seeing it displayed so proudly brought a soft smile to his face.

Izuku took one more sip of his tea before placing it down and asking, “So, Principal, what would you like to discuss with me? I assume you’d like a copy of my lesson plans for Eri’s internship?” He pulled out a few folders from his bag.

“That would be wonderful,” Nedzu said. “I do appreciate how you are always so prepared!” He took the folders from Izuku and started to flip through them, occasionally taking a drink. “Have you considered whether you will be taking Eri for a work-study? I understand it’s a bit early, but I thought you might have some thoughts,” He said, not looking away from the notes.

Izuku hummed in thought. He had considered it, but he wasn’t sure if it was the best move. Eri hadn’t yet decided what branch of education she wanted to go into, so it might be best for her to be a bit more well-rounded. He could always advise her on his personal time.

He said as much to Nedzu, who nodded in understanding.

“I see,” Nedzu said, placing his teacup down and looking at Izuku. “I quite enjoyed my time teaching you in your high school years; do you think Eri might benefit from something like that? I am aware that she does not possess the same… analytical mindset that you do, but perhaps a shift in perspective would be good for her?”

“Hmm, I’m not so sure.” Izuku looked out the window behind Nedzu. “You and I both know that Eri adores you, sir, but I think it might be better for her to get more experience outside of UA.”

“Oh?”

Izuku nods, continuing, “I'm sure you know this already, but Eri had a very... well, a very sheltered childhood. After she was rescued from the Shie Hassaikai, she had to reintegrate into society slowly. Even now, she sometimes struggles with reaching out to her peers.” He sighs. “She does just fine at home; she loves her family to bits—including most of Class 1-A, as well as Togata. But if we want Eri to continue progressing, then we should help her out of her comfort zone—which has undoubtedly become the halls of UA.”

Nedzu temples his paws. “Very astute, Izuku!” He makes a note before continuing, “Glad to see we are on the same page. You never cease to impress me with your observations!”

“Thank you, sir!” Izuku chuckled.

Nedzu pulled a board out from his desk. “Well then, with business out of the way, how about a game of chess?”

“Only if you’re prepared to lose!”

Nedzu flashed him a feral grin. “Oh, we’ll see about that.”

“Okay, Eri, that’s the last of the basic classroom procedures,” Izuku said, clasping his hands in front of him. “Any questions?”

Eri shook her head. “Nope! I wrote it all down in my notebook; I’ll be just fine, Uncle Deku!”

“It’s Midoriya-sensei when we’re at school,” Izuku said, raising an eyebrow at the girl, “but I’m glad you’ve got it all down.”

Today was the beginning of Eri’s internship with him, and Izuku felt great. Eri was super enthusiastic about everything—even the most tedious and nitpicky policies—which made his life a whole lot easier. He was worried that she might be a bit bored at first, but she powered through, and now they got to focus on the fun part.

“All right, Eri, the kids should start arriving in a bit, so why don't you help me finish setting up the classroom, and then you can wait outside the door to greet the kids?” Izuku grabbed a few worksheets and handed them to Eri, nodding towards the tables. “Hara-sensei should be here in a few minutes as well. She texted me to say she was running behind.” Izuku stifled a laugh and dramatically whispered, “Don’t let her fool you; she’ll probably stroll in holding coffee and a cinnamon roll; it’s just how she is.”

Eri giggled. “ Does she ever bring you any, Uncle—I mean, Midoriya-sensei?”

Izuku rolled his eyes playfully. “Me? Only sometimes. She’s nice though and good at her job, so it’s not a big deal.” He shrugs, diverting his attention to the whiteboard, updating a few things.

Hara-sensei, or as Izuku knew her, Emiko, was a pleasant woman. She got along well with the kids; they loved to goof off with her at recess. (Sometimes, Izuku wondered if she wasn't actually a five-year-old herself.) She had been Izuku’s assistant teacher since he started working at Mimba Private Elementary School, and her help had been invaluable. She was actually only a few months younger than Izuku, but she preferred the assistant position. He had tried to get her to apply for promotion once, only to be met with a firm rejection, and glitter flicked in his face. ("Are you trying to get rid of me?") He hasn't suggested it since.

“I’m going to wait by the door now!” Eri called over her shoulder.

Izuku turned, replying with a quick, “Alrighty!”

Emiko strolled in about two minutes later, holding an iced coffee and—to Izuku’s surprise—three chocolate chip muffins.

“Well, would you look at that! My assistant actually brought me a treat?” Izuku teased.

Emiko laughed, setting her things down on her desk. She had long blue hair tied in two braids and was wearing a long-sleeved yellow button-up under a pair of overalls. (Mimba Elementary was famous for its lax dress code, students and teachers alike.)

“I even brought one for your intern!” Emiko chirped. “I hope she likes chocolate. They ran out of blueberry before I got there.” She picked off a piece of the muffin, popping it in her mouth.

Izuku grabbed one, peeling off the wrapper before taking a big bite. He hummed in delight.

“Are those from Sato’s?” Eri asked, peeking her head in the door.

Emiko grinned proudly, holding one out to the other girl, who raced over to grab it. “You betcha! My cousin works there, so I get a family discount!” She said, shooting a wink at Eri.

“Better eat that quick; the students will be here any minute now!” Izuku poked at Eri’s stuffed cheek.

Eri gobbled up the rest of her muffin in record time before sprinting back to the door.

Emiko turned to Izuku. “Do you want to stand outside with Eri today, or should I? She doesn’t really know me yet, so I wasn’t sure if she’d be more comfortable sticking with you for now.” She finished picking at her muffin, throwing the wrapper in the garbage.

“I’ll stay with her for today, but she can go with you tomorrow. I want to push her out of her comfort zone as much as I can while she’s here.” His lips upturned into a playful smile. “Plus, if you keep buttering her up with food, I’m sure you’ll be besties by the end of the week.” He chuckled, popping another bit of muffin in his mouth.

A teasing grin quickly overtook his assistant's face. “By the way,” Emiko whispered, “have you asked you-know-who out yet?”

Izuku felt his face flush red. “What?!” He squeaked. “Absolutely not! We both know I can’t do that!” He waved his hands in front of his face frantically.

Emiko raised an eyebrow at her co-worker. “Do I know that? Because I can’t come up with a single reason why it would be a bad idea.” She leveled him with an unimpressed stare.

“Um, how about the fact that he’s a literal pro-hero and I’m a kindergarten teacher?” Izuku suggested, bewildered at his assistant’s lack of understanding. “He’s way out of my league! There’s no way he would be interested in me!”

“I just don’t see the harm in asking!” Emiko exclaimed. “You never know until you try, Izuku! If he turns you down, then so what? You move on with your life, and nothing bad happens! It’s really not that complicated!” She huffed, crossing her arms.

Izuku sighed, running a hand down his face. “Look, Emiko. I appreciate the sentiment but, we have quite a few mutual friends, actually. So I don’t want to make it weird for anyone if they find out.”

Emiko looked confused. “Wait, you two know each other? I mean, everyone knows Red Riot, obviously, but he knows you too?

“Well, not exactly. I know a handful of his old classmates from UA, and my best friend’s boyfriend is his best friend, or well, one of them anyway. I’ve never actually met Red Riot before, but we have similar social circles. Not that I’ve been, like, avoiding him or anything! I would never do that! And we both see him here at school anyway so—”

“Izuku. Chill,” Emiko laughed.

His mouth clicked shut, blushing again. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, just calm down, okay? I get it might make things a little bit weird if he turns you down, but you honestly don’t have a whole lot to lose in this situation. Plus, his kid isn't even in your class! That makes it like, a million times easier to avoid him if it doesn't go well. So just go for it!” Emiko punched his arm before shaking out her hand. “I always forget you’re more muscular than you look.” She pouted.

Izuku breathed out a small laugh. “Thanks, Emiko. I’ll—I’ll think about it, I guess.”

“That’s all I can really ask of you." She gave him a bright smile. "Now go help Eri! She’s gonna be drowning in kids if you don’t!”

“Alright, alright! I’m going!” He waved Emiko off, walking over to Eri.

Little did Izuku know, his new intern had heard every word of his conversation.

And though she may not be a hero student, she was determined to save Izuku from his rapidly failing love life. And she knew just who to ask for help.

“Midoriya-sensei, is it alright if I text my dad real quick? It’ll be just a second!” She plastered on her sweetest smile, one that always got Uncle Deku to agree to whatever she had planned.

“Sure, but make it fast, okay? I’m gonna need your help getting the kids seated and ready for the day,” He said, quickly turning his attention back to the steady stream of kids arriving.

“Thank you!”

Eri pulled out her phone, scrolling through her contacts until she found who she was looking for. She drafted a text as fast as she could before sending it and stuffing her phone back in her dress pocket.

“All done, Midoriya-sensei!” The girl chimed. “What do you need me to do next?”

In his office, Principal Nedzu received a very intriguing message.

“Why, yes, Eri. I do believe that can be arranged!” Nedzu smiled to himself.

#kirideku #midoriya x kirishima #kirishima x midoriya #kirishima eijirou x midoriya izuku #eijirou kirishima #kirishima eijirou #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #my hero academia fanfiction #.glue sticks

1 note · View note

bigtiddycommity · 4 years

Text

Clé: Miroh (4)

Pairing: Bang Chan x reader ft. Stray kids & Got7

Warnings: Slight profanity

Summary: An up and coming singer is introduced to the rough and unfair world of the music industry when she is tricked into a fake relationship with a popular idol. Her entire world has been turned upside down and now not only is she hated by millions of fans around the world but she is now despised by her...boyfriend?

Word count: 3k

________________________________

“Gogi.” Jisung said slowly as he sat criss crossed on the fuzzy black carpet in Auriellas bedroom.

“Meat..?” She said in return, hesitantly.

“Great job, noona!” Jisung high fived the girl.

Over the past few weeks, the boys have made an effort to get to know Auriella and so far, things were going relatively well considering the circumstances. They had been helping her learn Korean and she was doing great. She still struggled with writing but she was a fast learner and can mostly understand basic conversation now.

Though Chan and Auriella barely spoke, the living arrangements weren't all that bad. Everyone had their own room and space to do as they pleased away from the public eye. The boys also had freedom in their new home without JYP staff breathing down their throats. Since Auriella owned the home, JYP and its staff had no authority on her property, which meant the boys had full privacy and freedom when they weren't at work.

While living with the boys, Auriella had gotten used to each boy's habits, likes and dislikes. Since she was such a small girl, she was often overlooked and that fact gave her more time to observe her surroundings. She now knew each boy inside and out. Their different styles, tics and habits. The boys of Stray Kids were growing on Auriella and she had to admit, she liked it.

“Noona,” Jisung laughed, poking the tummy of the stuffed panda on the girls floor. “What's with you and pandas?” Auriella’s room had a multitude of small to medium sized stuffed animals but majority were pandas or stuffed peach shaped characters.

“Hey, those are my babies.” She pouted, teasing. She loved pandas, they were her favorite animals. She found them cute and fluffy.

A dramatic gasp sounded from Auriella’s bedroom door. The two people in the room turned to the sound to find Jeongin standing there, his mouth agape and one hand on his chest, over his heart.

“Noona, how could you? I thought I was your baby.” He dramatized.

“Face it, kid, you've been replaced.” Jisung added with a smirk.

“Oh, you break my heart. Here I was, coming to share my food with you and this is how I'm treated? Rude.” He sassed, wiping a foux tear from his cheek.

“You are my baby! Come here, honey.” She held her arms out, remaining seated on the carpeted floor.

The younger boy beamed and tackled her in a hug with an adorable yell of happiness. Jisung took their affection as an opportunity to grab for the bag of food the younger boy had brought in.

“Oh, ramen!” He exclaimed.

Jeongin flushed, getting off of Auriella after she kissed his forehead in thanks.

“I got you that shrimp tempura you liked, too, Noona.” The maknae said, pulling out the dishes in the bag before handing her the wrapped container.

The girl squealed in happiness. “Yum!”

Across the hall, the leader of Stary Kids sat in his room, in the same position he had been in for hours prior, working on music. It wasn't odd for Chan to lock himself away while producing. He would get into a sort of trance once inspiration hit and after a while, his members knew to leave him alone when he did get into that sort of funk. He would refuse food and all forms of communication all in the name of music. It was unhealthy, but the members stopped trying to pry him away from his computer years ago. It was no use.

Usually, nothing and no one could pull Bang Chan from his work but the boy couldn't help but pause when he heard an odd noise through his headphones, causing him to remove them from his ears. It was then that he heard a loud choking wheeze coming from down the hall. He took a moment to listen, in case it was one of the members messing around with each other but then he heard the panicked cries of his younger members yelling Auriella’s name.

In a split second, he jumped up from his chair and found himself bounding down the hall and into the girls room. Once he arrived, he was met with a panicked Jeongin and Jisung hovering over Auriella as she lay on her back, struggling to breathe. Noodles were scattered all over the floor around the three.

“What?! What happened?!” He questioned.

“I-i don't know, Hyung. One second she was eating and the next she said she couldn't breathe!” Jeongin responded, panicked. Was this his fault? He should have checked the food better.

“Call an ambulance.” Chan instructed. The younger boy didn't move. “Now!” Chan raised his voice, startling Jeongin from his shocked trance.

While the maknae ran off to do as he was instructed, Chan moved down onto the floor next to Aurella’s slowly stilling body.

“Auriella? Can you hear me?” He asked, getting closer to her face, trying to make eye contact. “Are you allergic to anything?” He asked once he met her orbes.

“I-i don't know..” She croaked, reaching for his arm.

Chan was beginning to respond when her eyes rolled back into her head and she began shaking violently. Moving all of the objects away from her body, Chan asked Jisung to grab a pillow for her head.

“Move her on her side, now!” He said. “Was anything in her mouth, do you know?” Chan wanted to make sure she didn't choke.

“I don't remember, hyung. Let me check-” He reached his hand towards Auriellas foaming mouth, only to be pushed away by his leader.

“No, don’t! She could hurt you.” Chan looked down at his watch to time her seizure.

After a few moments, she stopped shaking and Chan moved from her side to behind her, where he propped her up against his chest.

Stroking her head gently, he instructed Jisung. “Go in my room, in the top drawer of my desk you'll see a big needle. Bring it to me, quick.” Chan instructed, his eyes never leaving Auriellas face.

“Okay.” He ran out of the room and returned a moment later with the object he was sent for.

“Okay, give it to me and hold her thigh steady.”

“What are you gonna do, hyung?” The younger boy asked, confused and worried once he saw how big the tip of the needle was.

One look at his leader and he knew he wasn't going to get an answer so he followed instructions and held Auriella’s leg still. Chan steadied his hand and plunged the epipen into the girls’ thigh.

Auriella’s chest raised slightly as she took an unconscious breath of air. Her breathing still sounded labored but at least she was breathing, which is more than she was doing a moment prior.

Soon, Jeongin came into the room, two medics in his tow carrying a stretcher. She was carried off into the ambulance and taken to the nearest hospital as the members of Stray Kids prepared to follow the ambulance.

All nine members sat in the private waiting room of the hospital, anxious to hear an update on Auriella’s condition. Jeongin sat with his hands clenched, tears of guilt and worry running down the young boys face. Jeongin couldn't help but blame himself. In all the time he and Auriella spent together, the boy felt he should have known. He should have asked what she was allergic to and now she was in a hospital bed, barely breathing on her own, and it was his fault.

The boy let out a sob as he recalled the events hours prior. The heartbreaking sound caught the attention of Hyunjin, who sat next to him.

“Hey,” His voice was soft, yet firm. “This is not your fault. You had no way of knowing she would have a reaction like that.”

“B-but she stopped breathing, hyung. She'll never forgive me. I can't blame her, either.” He said, turning to look back at white tile beneath his sneakers.

“Yah, you know Auriella. She would never-” His sentence was cut off by a new, older voice

“Family of Auriella Duran?” A man with a clipboard in hand asked as his eyes moved around the room.

In perfect unison, all members of Stray Kids all stood up and looked at the mean expectedly.

“Oh, um,”He was flustered due to all of the eyes on him all at once. “Are you all here for her?” Only two visitors are allowed at a time for ICU patients. The doctor took one look at the tearful, worried eyes of a group of young men and sighed.

“Shes awake, so you can go in, but you'll need to be very quiet and careful. She's a bit weak.”

The group thanked the man and bowed in respect before following him down the hall and to Auriella’s room. Once inside the white room, the boys were able to see Auriellas small, pale body lying on a hospital bed, an oxygen mask sitting on her face, aiding her.

As soon as Jeongin’s eyes saw Auriella’s state, a loud, uncontrollable sob left the young boys throat. At the sound, Auriella turned her head from the window in the room, to her visitors. An automatic smile began to grow onto her face but it soon diminished as soon as she caught sight of the tears running down Jeongin’s face.

“Oh, baby.” She cooed, removing the mask from her face. “Come here,” She opens her arms weakly, wanting, needing to comfort her friend.

The maknae followed instructions, pushing his member out of the way as he tumbled the distance towards Auriella. The boy fell onto her small body, hugging her as quiet sobs left his shaking body.

Auriella ran her hand through his hair soothingly, attempting to calm him down. Looking up at the other people in the room, the girl smiled and ticked her head to the side, indicating that they could fully enter the room.

“I’m okay.” Her soft voice sounded.

“Noona, I-” He choked out a sob.

“Shh.” She shushed. The last she wanted was Jeongin blaming himself over an innocent mistake.

“How do you feel?” Jisung asked, walking closer to her hospital bed.

“I feel better. They gave me some medication for my throat, it's a little swollen.” She said, hoping to bring some peace to his worry as well as the worry of the boy in her lap. Jeongin had stopped crying now, simply finding comfort in Auriella’s arms.

“That was scary.” Felix said from across the room.

“Yeah..I’m sorry for worrying you. I know it must have been a bit of a surprise.” She said smiling down at Jeongin who had momentarily met her eyes.

“We are just glad you're okay.”Changbin spoke up unexpectedly.

Since Auriella had arrived, the boy seemed to avoid her at all costs. He wasn't rude or mean to her by any means but he definitely didn't go out of his way to have any extra contact with her either. He was always in the background, silently watching but never approaching. He would joke around and be his normal self when he was with his members but anytime Auriella would walk into the room, he went radio silent.

“Oh, um thank you, Changbin, for caring.” She meant it. Auriella was beginning to think he didn't like her.

“How did this even happen? What caused this?” Minho was the one to ask the question everyone was wondering. His face was monotone but his voice was curious.

“They said it was an allergic reaction to the batter used for the tampura.” She told the group.

“You should tell us these things, noona, so we can watch out for them.” Jisung said, nudging her gently.

“I didn't even know I was allergic to anything. It's a surprise to me, too.” She said, disbelief sounding her tone.

“Do you know when you'll be out of here?” Seugmin asked quietly.

“The doctor said he wants me to stay a couple days for observation, but if everything is okay, I can be discharged by the end of the week.”

“We’re lucky it wasn't more serious. If Chan- hyung hadn't-” Hyunjin’s words were cut off when the girl spoke.

“Chan?” He hasn't uttered a word since he walked into the room. He stood in the far corner of the room, his arms crossed across his chest, head down. Auriella turned to him. “You saved me?” She asked, confusion in her voice.

“I, uh, have a little allergic to certain chemicals so I had an epipen and.. Yeah.” He said, avoiding eye contact with the girl.

Bang Chan was the last person Auriella expected. It's not that she thought he was an evil person who would enjoy her suffering, but she hadn't been all that kind to him since the day they met. She was tolerant but she didn't go out of her way to speak with him. She was still upset over how he treated her and how he taunted her without giving her a chance.

“Thank you.” Her voice was tender, she was serious. He had saved her life and Auriella was more than grateful.

At her words, Bang Chan finally met her eyes, something he hadn't been able to do in weeks without feeling shame overtake him. Just by looking into her eyes, he could see how thankful she was. The two stared into each other's eyes for a few moments before Chan cleared his throat and raised a hand to rub his neck.

“You're uh, you're welcome, Auriella.” He said shifting in his spot.

Bang Chan wasn’t selfish or cruel. Auriella was wrong about him but now she knew. There was an entire other part to him that hid beneath the surface. A good side, a caring and dependable side.

Maybe things could be different now.

__________________________________

Weeks had passed since Auriella’s accident. Since then, she and chan had been better with their “friendship”. Still slightly stiff and awkward but better than it had been when they first met. After Auriella’s little scare, the members had tried harder to get to know her better.

“Woah Auriella, is that you?” Hyunjin asked, shocked as he watched an old music video of her old group Lunar.

The concept was dark and sexy, which was an image the members had not expected from tiny, bubbly Auriella.

The girl giggled, amused by his reaction. “Yeah, I actually choreographed that song.”

“Really? Noona, we should dance together!” Felix was excited. He already had a few ideas bouncing around his head.

“Yeah! It would be so fun.” Hyunjin encouraged

“What would?” A new voice made the three people in the room turn to see Minho coming in from the front door, taking off his shoes.

Auriella looked back down at the laptop screen, avoiding his eyes. Changbin had been polite yet distant to her but Lee know had just been distant. He hadn’t made any effort to get to know her at all. In fact, it was as if she didn’t exist at all. He looked and walked right past her.

“Hyung, we were thinking of doing some choreography with noona, have you seen her dance?!” Felix exclaimed to a stone-faced Lee know.

“Why?” His tone was harsh, blunt. As if Felix had just said the most idiotic thing he had ever heard.

Auriella wanted the floor to swallow her whole. She hated the sudden change in atmosphere at his question. Minho had an intimidating edge and she wasn't sure what his issue was with her.

“I just-.” Felix stammered, not expecting such a sharp reply from the elder boy.

“She's here to sit pretty and get paid. That's it. She's not here to be your little friend, felix. This is all fake, a plan JYP set up, so don't get attached. She won't be here long.” With that, he threw his keys into the bowl by the front door and walked off towards his room.

The room stunned into silence was broken by Hyunjin. “Is that true? Is Jyp paying you to be here? To date hyung?”

“No. I'm not getting payed. Just like I told you, I was tricked into signing that contract and forced to uproot my life here in Korea. As much as I like you guys, i’m not exactly here by my own free will. I’m bound by JYP.”

“What about your career, noona? Are they making you stop?” Felixs’ voice was soft, childlike.

“According to the contract, I can still sing but i’ve been officially removed from my group, so if I really wanted, I would have to be solo.” She shook her head at her words. “But, I-i don’t know.”

“I’m sure it might be scary to do it alone after being in a group but you can’t let your talent go to waste.” Hyunjin replied. He couldn’t help but feel guilty. All this was happening to her because of himself and his group.

“I have a few demos I recorded that I saved for my group but they are still a little messy.” She shook her head, fiddling with her fingers nervously. “I was gonna ask JYP if I could have one of his producers help me with them, but I don’t know.”

“Changbin-hyung could help! He taught Han how to produce, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind helping you too.” Felix said, jumping slightly as the idea came to him.

“Changbin? I don’t know..he doesn’t seem..” Auriella trailed off, unsure.

“Hyung is just a little shy, but I promise you’ll like him once you get to know him.” Hyunjin encouraged. He really wanted to do this for her.

Auriella took a deep breath as she thought about it. Music was everything to her and she couldn’t see herself living happily without it. She wanted to make the best of the situation she had been thrown into. She had never been the type to give up and she didn’t want to start now.

“Okay, let’s do it.” The two boys turned to each other beaming.

This was going to be great.

28 notes · View notes

imperial-martian · 5 years

Text

The Secrets You Keep Hidden- Chapter One {Mycroft Holmes x Reader}

A/N: The house that I have described as Mycroft's manor is the actual house that he lives in throughout the BBC Sherlock show. (I have photos if you are interested in seeing it. Leave a comment if so!)

You weren't surprised when it suddenly wasn't raining on you anymore, even if there was still rain coming down around you. Without having to look over at the person who had caused the rain to be shielded from you, you knew who it was.

They hadn't said anything, letting you both stand in silence to grieve for the time being. You knew the silence wouldn't last, it never did, but for now, you let it settle over you like a soft blanket in the midst of winter.

That would have been rather nice right now, to sit on your settee, a blanket wrapped around you with a warm cup of tea in your hands as you watched some old movies. However, that wasn't what was happening, instead, you were standing in front of your best friends grave with raindrops- or maybe those were tears? -streaming down your cheeks.

A year and eight months still hadn't been enough time to stop grieving, and really you didn't know if any amount of time would be.

The silence was broken the next moment when a loud roar of thunder and lightning flashed through the air. It was a surprise to the man standing beside you that you were the first to speak.

He would have rather heard you make a comment as to how he knew you would be there, or that he should be at work, but what he got were all broken words.

"Do you ever think that if we had been there when he jumped that we could have persuaded him not to?" you asked, your words ending in a choked sob that you had covered up with your hand.

Mycroft, the man beside, made a slight rustling sound beside you as he reached into his breast pocket to pull out his pocket square. He held it out to you, bowing his head a little as if he were nodding at it and telling you to take it.

You made a small, soft chuckle between a choked sob and took the cloth from him, whispering a weak thank you before clenching the pocket square in your hand. It would do you no use to wipe your tears at the rate you were crying in, and Mycroft knew that.

He had not a single clue on how to comfort someone when grieving- actually, he had no idea how to comfort someone at all. You knew that he was trying his best and appreciated his efforts even if they weren't the most effective form of comfort. At least he was able to make you laugh, even if it was only in playful pity.

Another roar of lightning and thunder flashed, causing you to jump a bit at the un-expectancy of it. A rustling sound came from beside you before a trench coat was held out in front of you.

Knowing that Mycroft wanted you to take it from him, you looked at him, opening your mouth to protest only to close it again when he gave you a sharp look.

"You've already stood out here long enough to get a cold, I'm trying to lessen the chance of you getting the flu. I won't take any sort of protest." Just by the tone he had said it, you could tell he wasn't in the best of moods.

With a bit of reluctance, you took it from him, murmuring a small thank you yet again as you slipped your arms into the sleeves of the navy blue material. It was still warm from when Mycroft had worn it, the smell of his musky cologne and hints of earl grey tea, and the most prominent smell of cigarette smoke lingered on it.

You felt your heart clench a little at the realization that he was smoking again, even after he had stopped for the bit of time you forced him to. It was three years ago when you were visiting his office that you saw the ashtray that already had two cigarettes burnt out in it, and one in his hand. You threatened to never return back to the office if he continued to smoke, especially in his office.

With time, he began to limit the amount he smoked, but the clear smell on his trench coat was enough to let you know that he certainly had had more than one cigarette that day.

Even with the awful smell, you couldn't help but turn the collar up and find comfort in the warmth of the soft material that was loosely encased around you. The coat was clearly far too large for you, your hands barely making it out of the sleeves, and the bottom of the trench coat padding your knees.

It was larger than the one Sherlock used to wear- which even to this day you still wear it when you grieve at home -but it's much more comfortable than Sherlock's. Maybe it was because Sherlock's coat now only brought sadness and despair whenever you wore it when Mycroft's brought you comfort and hope.

Hope was the only thing that had seemed to be missing from your life now, and it had since the fall, so the sudden surge of it caused a shiver to run down your spine. Mycroft has mistaken it, thinking that you had gotten cold and made a suggestion that you should both head home.

You didn't protest, knowing that it was getting late and you should be heading home, but the thought of going homemade you feel uneasy, uncomfortable knowing that you'd be alone. You froze where you stood for a moment, feeling a tremor rush through you before, as the rain began to pelt down on you as Mycroft continued to walk a few more steps before realizing you weren't beside him.

He stopped himself, turning his head to look back at you before noticing the way your e/c eyes looked almost hollow with no emotion. Mycroft was quick to tell what was wrong, and as he moved towards you he offered his hand in a rare moment of outward affection.

Looking down at his hand, you took it in yours instantly feeling a sudden tightness in your throat as if you were going to cry again. He carefully brought you closer to him so that you weren't standing out in the rain anymore.

"How about we go to my house?" Mycroft suggested although he didn't give you enough time to respond. "I'll have somebody grab your clothes for 221C if you're comfortable with that, or we can go get them together, so you can stay the night in one of my guest rooms."

You couldn't even form words to argue with Mycroft as to why you shouldn't stay at his house, nor did you want to. You just gave a nod of acceptance and let him lead you to the town car that had driven him here.

"I'd prefer if we stopped at Baker Street together before heading to your house if that's alright," you mumbled after getting yourself situated besides Mycroft in the back of the car.

He all but made a sound of acknowledgment before telling his chauffeur where to go. He seemed to Shevardnadze no patience in his tone, and you suddenly felt bad for making him come out in the rain to ensure you wouldn't get sick.

Knowing that it was best to apologize for it, you looked over at him and spoke in a soft voice. "I'm sorry for making you come out in the rain," you started, your words being a filled with guilt. "It wasn't my best choice to visit Sherlock's grave at this time," you concluded.

Feeling a sudden pain in his head before a headache settled in, he groaned before replying in an almost hoarse voice. "Yes, it probably wasn't your best decision." Although he hadn't said it in a harsh way, it still made your stomach turn in an uncomfortable manner before all you did was a nod and look out the window.

Tears once again threatened to spill from your eyes. You hated disappointing Mycroft, but that's all you seemed to be doing after the passing of Sherlock. Nothing was the same, and although you never expected it to be after such an event, you wish it hadn't changed in the way it did.

Everything was different now. Mycroft was even more closed off than he was when you first met. To you, he no longer felt like a friend and more like a babysitter that was constantly watching you. You not only felt his disappointment, but you felt your own which only made the tears harder to keep back before you couldn't anymore.

You couldn't have been more thankful when the car arrived at Baker Street in the next moment. Mentally letting out a sigh of relief, you removed the seatbelt from its position around your shoulder and torso before opening the door.

"I shouldn't be more than five minutes," you informed Mycroft, not looking back at him as you spoke, trying to keep your voice as level as you could.

You heard Mycroft let out a 'hmph' as if to let you know that he heard you before you exited the car and walked into the rain again. Pulling out your key, you unlocked the door and made your way upstairs to 221C where you quickly scouted to find a bag to put all the clothes and other essentials you would need in.

Grabbing some comfortable clothes for the night and the following day, as well as your bathroom needs, you made your way towards the exit of your flat, locking it and walking past 221B. The sight of the closed door and the silence that filled the stairwell made you feel unsettled, and as you wiped the tears from your eyes, you walked back down the steps to enter the car again.

Mycroft has taken the time that you were gathering your things to think to himself. He hadn't seemed to be able to catch a break in a long while, between government cases and his brother's updates, he was constantly focusing on different things. This only added to it.

He wished that you only knew that the suicide was planned. That Sherlock wasn't dead. Boy wouldn't it make his life a whole lot easier.

It was sad to think that he'd only wished that you'd known to make it easier on himself, and had he actually allowed himself to realize how much he truly cared for you he'd see how awful he was thinking what he just did. But he couldn't help it. Caring would always be just a disadvantage to him. It would always be a useless emotional reaction that he wouldn't allow himself to feel.

The sound of a car door opening only to close a few seconds later caused his focus to shift from his thoughts to you. He glanced over at you as you put on the seatbelt again, struggling when you accidentally got it caught on inside of his coat while you weren't paying attention.

"Do you need to make another stop or are we ready to resume our ride to my house?" Mycroft asked, looking at you with his blue eyes that even in the cloudiest of days, reflected some sort of light back to you.

After holding his gaze for a moment, you blinked and nodded, swallowing the embarrassment you began to feel down. "I am," you announced softly, looking down at the coat and fiddling with the bottom of it as if you were smoothing our a wrinkle to distract yourself from the man beside you.

He nodded, one which you didn't see but knew that he had, looking at his driver through the rearview mirror. It didn't take more than a second before the car was going down the road again.

The ride was spent in silence, as you two focused on other things. Mycroft answering a few emails on his laptop which he had pulled out knowing that the ride would be longer than usual due to both the rain and the time of day. You, on the other hand, were focused on the view outside the window.

Mycroft lived outside of London, and although you had been to his house on more than one occasion, it wasn't enough for you to actually take in the sight of the area he lived in. It was just as you had expected it'd be, even if you didn't already know what it looked like.

Houses seemed to be miles apart from one another, each one designed to look like a Victorian house with the architecture being made mostly out of the local bricks that seemed to be around when these houses were made. Each house had a different design, but all together looked as though they were built back in the eighteenth century, even if some had a more modern feel to it.

It wasn't until the car turned into a driveway that you realized you had arrived at Mycroft's house- manor being a better term to use for it. The outside of the manor was made of the same white stones that were smoothed down against each surface. A few stairs with curved stone railings on each side led up to the front door. Flowers were placed on either side of the staircase with a bush located on the right side of the front of the manor that wrapped around it to the other sidewall.

Twenty sets of windows were located at the front of the house, each window having the curtains draped across the top corners off to the side. The lawn was perfectly cut and flower bushes rested near the front of the lawn, towards the street.

To describe the manor in simple terms, it was fit for royalty, and most certainly not for somebody who lived alone.

Entering the house, you walked into the house you were met with another staircase, this one made of wood with a red carpet leading up to the second floor. The ceilings were beautifully designed, the cream color complimenting the wood that was around the entire room. Paintings and sculptures were filled around the room, and most definitely scattered around the house.

To describe everything this manor offered would take hours, and to visit explain every detail inside and out would certainly take up a whole day, if not more.

Even after visiting Mycroft's manor numerous times, you couldn't help to gape at it even now.

The slight chuckle that came from around the opposite side of the room was a welcomed sound to your ears, and as you let it warm your heart for a moment, you looked at who the sound came from.

Mycroft, who was looking back at you with an almost amused smile upon his face, nodding towards the stairs.

"Why don't you go and pick out which room you'd like to sleep in tonight. Neither of us have eaten dinner yet, I'll prepare something for the both of us," he stated, giving you one last glance before he turned his back towards you and walked towards another room. "If you get lost just give me a shout," he added.

Your cheeks flushed a little in color before you did as Mycroft had suggested and made your way upstairs. While you spent the time searching for a room to stay in at for the night- getting a bit distracted while admiring all the paintings -Mycroft was in the kitchen.

He opened a drawer, grabbing out some medicine that he knew would help rid him of the headache he had gained earlier in the car. Mycroft poured himself a glass of water before taking down the pill and closing the drawer again.

Hearing the creek of the floorboards as you moved around upstairs, Mycroft began to gather some ingredients to make a dinner in which he knew that you would both enjoy.

It didn't take long for you to join him either, wrapped up in a warm sweater that you had brought to change into so that you could get out of the wet clothes. You brought down his trench coat, hanging it on the coat rack you had noticed on the way inside the manor.

"Thank you for letting me borrow your coat, I've left it on the coat rack to dry a bit," you informed, cautiously, in case he didn't want you to, taking a seat at the island table.

Mycroft's back was turned to you as he stood by the stove, prepping and cooking whatever food he planned to serve you.

"No need to thank me," he replied. "I should let you know that there is some cough medicine in the bathroom down the hall upstairs should you need it at any point. It's in one of the drawers in the cabinet underneath the sink."

With a bit of a rueful smile, you gave him a small hum. "Thank you, remind me to buy you some more if I need to use it, would you?" you asked, the question clearly rhetorical and in a playful manner.

Mycroft only smiled at you in reply as he set a plate down in front of you before grabbing his own. Placing to glasses down at the table, he filled them with wine that you knew was far too expensive for you to ever afford, before placing them down in front of you both and sitting across from you.

Sitting in comfortable silence with the occasional topic of work or something else thrown in the mix of things, you enjoyed your dinner. Offering to do the dishes after such a delicious meal, you watched as Mycroft places everything away in their designated spots before walking with one another upstairs. Saying a quick goodnight, you both parted and made your way to separate rooms, getting ready for the first good night's rest that you've had in a long while.

#bbc sherlock #bbc mycroft #mycroft holmes #mycroft holmes x reader #x reader #mycroft x reader #mycroft #holmes #bbc mycroft x reader #fluff #angst #mentions of suicide #death #the reichenbach fall #hurt #comfort #emotional distress #betrayel

73 notes · View notes

queen-rogah · 5 years

Text

One of us (Roger Taylor!Ben Hardy x F! Reader)

Summary: Y/N went to Roger's flat to surprise him, but she was surprised by a huge nightmare

Warnings: Angst and Foul Languages

Writer's Note: Hi there! This is actually my very first time to write a fic and I hope you guys will like it! This fic is based from the song ONE OF US by Abba

They passed me by, all of those great romances

You were, I felt, robbing me of my rightful chances

From the time you arrived in London again and feel the cold breeze nipping your skin made you feel so much excited to see the love of your life, Roger. You came home from a family vacation and stayed in the family house for almost a month. You have survived just calling Roger through the phone and writing letters to him even though he can't write you back due to his tour with the band. In the last few weeks, Roger didn't contact you that much so if you call him on the phone, Freddie would be the first one to answer and say that Roger is busy or gone in his flat. You understand his life as a well known rock star and through those endless gigs and parties that Freddie would throw, you sometimes think if Roger have eyes on someone.

My picture clear, everything seemed so easy

And so I dealt you the blow

And now you're back and giddy to see him, probably plant a lot of kisses all over his face by the time he'll open his door of his flat.

You took the taxi with much excitement again and said the address to the driver as he accelerated his way out of the street. You stared at the view of London again, feeling the atmosphere and imagining the reaction that Roger would make to see you home earlier that you have told him. Deep down still have that doubt, but you tried to slip that away and smile to yourself. Remembering that Roger said to you that he'll never break you heart, since you're also the love of his life.

When the vehicle finally stopped in front of the building where Roger's flat is, you gave him the fare and thanked him as you stepped out and stood there. You sighed deeply and quickly went in front of door, you rummaged through your wallet if you have his spare key with you and see there together with your own apartment key. You silently inserted the key and unlocked the door open, tiptoeing inside and closing it softly. You look around the place where all of your memories of him we're made and smiled at the pictures framed on his coffee table. The telly was open, so he's home.

You took off your scarf and set your things aside to look around to find him. No one is in the living room, the kitchen, his another room where his drumkit is, so you look over his room with his door closed. You smiled and made your way towards the door and happily opened it with your excitement

"Love! I'm back!--"

You stopped on your tracks and look clearly to what you're seeing.

It's Roger, sharing a bed with Sherry, the groupie you knew of the band. Your blood run cold and suddenly began to boil. You look over at them, sheets covering their naked bodies and their clothes scattered around the bed. That's the same bed you first had sex with Roger, the bed where you used to lay with him and talk about some things and now, you're seeing another woman in that bed full of damn memories.

"Roger...How fucking dare you--" Tears streaming down your face

"Y/N! I can explain this!." He said as he put on some clothes and tries to hold you, but you kept on stepping back from him until you both are already outside his room.

"Explain Roger?! You have to explain what you did? Oh no, I don't fucking care what kind of explanation you have to say about this. All that I have to say is that you're a cold hearted person and you don't care that you have me, your girlfriend that loves you so much, that needs you so much, that wants to see you much. And then I came home to see this? Fucking your own groupie?! You're fucking disgusting Roger." You sob as your voice became hoarse and rough with the anger and sadness coming over you.

Roger can't talk right now, he's just facing the floor since the words you've said stabbed his heart. What he did to you just didn't stabbed your heart, it broke your heart and shattered it into a million pieces.

"Y/N, please...I can make it up to you, I promise I'll change, I'll change for you." He pleads as he went down his knees, his hands gripping your hands.

"You've hurt me Roger and I can't forgive you. I guess I'm right..." You mumbled and pushed him away from you, walking away towards the living room.

"What do you mean Y/N?."

"I'm right about what I'm thinking about you! These past few weeks, you never call me, so if I tried to call you, Freddie would be the one that will talk to me through your phone. Little did I know you're already fucking that skank of yours and she never thinks that you have me." You smugly said and sarcastically laughs at him. He's so ridiculous.

"Please Y/N, I beg you to forgive me. I swear in my life, I will change..." He said but you didn't listen. You just took your scarf again and took your things.

One of us had to know

Now it's different, I want you to know

"Goodbye Roger Taylor." You said and walk out of his flat with tears still falling down your face. Feeling the broken heart that the person you loved the most gave you. You imagine him crying over you and throwing different things in his flat right now, even kicking out that bitch he have in his bed.

This is the first time you didn't kissed him by the time you came to visit him in his flat.

...

3 YEARS LATER

You laughed with your friends here in this restaurant since its your birthday. The feeling of three years without any partner in your life is the best thing that happened to you. You only surround yourself with positivity in the last years, even though you have gone through the biggest heartbreak that he did, but you did good in the end.

As your friends said that you'll make a wish, you closed your eyes as you wished for endless positivity in the next few years with your family and friends, and to someone that will make your heart flutter. By the time you blow your candles and opened your eyes, your happy expression turns into sadness. Your eyes looked at them, their hands tied together and she, she's so beautiful in that dress she have, her brunette hair perfectly cascades down her back. It's been three years, you promised yourself that you won't be heartbroken if you'll see him because you've move on. Turns out, you haven't.

One of us is crying

One of us is lying

In her lonely bed

Your hands gripped around the metal handle of your luggage. You ran away, away from him. You quickly went to Freddie's flat and pound loudly on his doors, causing some neighbors outside their doors to look at you in annoyance. Freddie has been the friend you have in the group, the friend that gives you advices to your relationship with Roger if anything goes wrong and he's like the peacemaker for the two of you. But now, you don't think he will be the peacemaker after what Roger did to you.

The door opened to see Mary, his girlfriend and you waste no time but to drop your things and hugged her tightly, the tears continuously streamed down your face.

"Y/N? What happened?." She asked as she hugged you back. You both pulled away as she cupped your face, asking what's wrong again, but you can't respond because your tongue is tied and your heart is severely broken.

Then you saw Freddie came in with a shocked look on his face when he see you drowning in your own tears in front of Mary. He quickly approaches you and gave you the biggest and the warmest hug you've ever felt in weeks.

"What happened darling? What's wrong huh?." He asked in his soothing voice as he cupped my face just like Mary did.

"Roger...he..."

"What did he do to you? Did he hurt you?." He asked.

"He's sleeping with Sherry Freddie, the fucking groupie! She's in our bed! I...I came to him from home and that sight of her and Roger broke my heart. Did you know that he and Sherry are already hooking up?." You asked with your voice cracking up.

"No...I do not know about them, but that fucking bastard. He don't control himself and he don't think that you have him! I'm this close to punching that wanker after what he did to you."

"No Freddie, leave him be. Make him suffer with the mess he made. I need to get away from here and find the place I want to spend my lifelong happiness. Just away from him." You said as you calm down.

"Y/N, are you sure about this?." Freddie asked, with Mary who is staring up at you with a questioning look too.

"Yes, I'm very sure. Only you guys will know where I'll be, don't let him find me because I never ever want to see his face in my life anymore."

Staring at the ceiling

Wishing she was somewhere else instead

Weeks later, Freddie found you a place where you can stay in Brighton. Where you can see the view of the ocean and you're only streets away from the pier. The place was peaceful and amazing. It feels like you're isolated from all of the problems you've had. You have contacted your family that you moved out from London, only your family, Freddie and Mary knows where you are. Nobody talks about Roger finding you, but all that you think about is, you will never gone to this biggest heartbreak if you don't fell in love with him. But he's the loveliest man you knew and he had treat you so much like a queen in his life, but what happened?

You stared at the ceiling with your thoughts running around your head. You decided that you will never leave Brighton, you will never go to London and you will never see Roger Taylor anymore. But she's wishing that she was somewhere else, the heartbreak is still there, even though she don't see him anymore, but her heart is still breaking.

One of us is lonely

One of us is only

Waiting for a call

You heared that Roger is finally searching for you. Freddie non-stop calling and updating you about him. You even panicked when you tried to call Freddie on the phone and Roger is gonna be the one that will answer, so you'll just quickly end the call and stare at the dead line.

After all of this, he's now searching for you. So, he's done with Sherry so he needs you again? He's been asking the others where you are but they are keeping their mouths shut and be bombarded with lies. They are trying to protect me and they are trying to avoid me from Roger and I'm thanful for that.

But the part of you wants to call Roger, hear his voice and tell him that you still love him even though it hurts. Stubborn, as they say. Your hand itch with eager whenever you see the telephone, but Freddie's words swim around your mind. Roger isn't worthy, he doesn't deserve your love anymore after what he did.

Those memories in your mind still haunts you after years have passed. Now, your eyes are just looking at them, especially him. When they are looking for their table, you tried to hide yourself with your friends. They noticed that he's around so they act it out. The tears are ready to fall again but when you saw that they are finally sitting down, you turn your look to them again.

Then you heard from the waiter, "What can I get for you Mr. and Mrs. Taylor?." The waiter happily asked.

Your movements stopped as you realized she's his wife. The woman he promised a lifetime of happiness and the woman that he will have his children with. You remembered before that he promised you that you're just the one woman he will marry, but it turns out to be somebody even better than you, and that broke your heart again.

Sorry for herself, feeling stupid feeling small

The feeling that you want to go back i time and fix to what you did. Roger loved you, you loved Roger, but you wasted it. Every seconds wasted, you never even found someone you will spend your whole life with, but he did and he is now married with her.

You wished that you didn't left, you wished that you have talked to him and you wished that you've changed. Three years have passed and now you're still here, regretting every single thing you did. You loved him, but you let him go. So he found someone else that will love him.

You, you're still drowning with sadness that is built in your heart.

Wishing she had never left at all

#roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor #one shot #queen #queen band

100 notes · View notes

rawrzimon · 6 years

Note

I'm sorry you're in a funk, love. *big hugs* Prompt for you! Athena, Leafy, and Kain go around Skyhold on a calm day and somehow, shenanigans ensue, preferably involving Cullen.

I blame you. Warning: I kind of got carried away listening to ABBA and this ended up silly.

They all were gathered in the War Room, save for the Commander.

The Spymaster paced on the opposite side of the table with her hands clasped behind her back, a wicked spark of mischief on her face. “Are you sure you are up for this? It could very well be the most difficult mission of your lives.”

Athena and Leafy looked to one another and nodded, crossing their arms over their chest in unison. The matron of the pair arched a brow and looked down to the war table. There weren’t any new markers on the board and they hadn’t shifted since the morning meeting. What could have changed? “Whenever you’re ready, Lady Leliana.”

“We have an important visitor coming in today, but it is important that we keep her from the Commander at all costs. At least not until the dinner at sunset that will be in tavern. She’s a surprise – and doesn’t want anyone spoiling it.” The former bard continued on, rearranging some of Cullen’s pieces in an obvious attempt to mess with him in the future. The Commander loved having his ducks in a row, and that especially included his pieces for the War Table, which had been used less and less since Corypheus’s defeat almost a year prior.

It was Leafy’s turn to talk. She put one hand on the table and leaned forward, expression suddenly turned into one of annoyance. “Who is this ‘important visitor’? If they’re so fancy, why are they getting a dinner at the tavern? Wouldn’t Ambassador Montilyet be putting something better together?”

Leliana, as if preparing for a dramatic reveal, turned towards the table and met the young elf’s eyes by slamming both of her hands on the table. Leafy didn’t flinch one bit. “Because the guest is the Commander’s sister - “

“Mia?!” Athena nearly screeched, eyes widening in happiness and shock.

“None other. She wants to surprise him for his name day – since he never takes a moment to breathe for himself. It is your job to keep him distracted and out of the tavern and main courtyard today. Athena, can the Inquisitor keep Kain today so you can keep track of their movements? It will give you some warning to when you are close to colliding.” She knew she was right. The connection between her and her wolf reminded her of a familiar like she used to read about in books or watch on shows. She knew that right now he was sleeping in a pile of the Commander’s clothes that he made a bed of most nights.

“That will work. How long do we have before she gets here?” Leliana looked outside to determine the sun’s height before pressing her lips together.

“Not long – she’s due to arrive at midday. I would be off. He’s probably on the training grounds or in his office.” Athena grabbed her daughter’s hand and took off through the Keep. Things had been just as busy since the fall of the Tevinter Magister, but in a different way. There were more nobility visits, but the troops were sent off on different peace-keeping missions. Not a day went by that Skyhold wasn’t bustling as it always had been.

Cullen ended up being in his office surrounded by a pile of papers. He was sitting with one head in one hand and the other writing feverishly on a piece of parchment. Athena didn’t even bother to knock; he knew better than to expect her to. The first time she burst in he had just thrown a lyrium vial at the door and it sliced her foot open. He looked up with a glance and raised fingers in greeting before drumming them against his head. “Morning.”

Leafy had a child-like grin on her face and strode over, instantly jumping on his desk to sit on its edge. “G’morning, Commander!”

Cullen blinked twice before looking up to the rebellious teen’s mother. Athena merely laughed, coming to kiss her on the top of the head. “Athena. Lev’adin. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Leafy opened her mouth to speak but Athena nudged her in the arm to shut her up, leaning on her daughter’s shoulder before looking down to the parchment that Cullen was writing on. They were updates on the Keep and different mission reports written by his lieutenants. “We are here to save you from a day of what looks to be incredibly boring paperwork. What do you say? Lunch over a game of chess?”

He rubbed the back of his neck and sat back in his chair, looking over the two women with an assessing gaze. “Why do I have the suspicion that ‘no’ is not an answer I can give?”

Athena gave him a playful wink. “Because you’re learning, Commander. Come on, we don’t want to waste any time.”

She reached forward to grab him by his overcoat but he pushed back in large, wooden chair until he was out of reach. “Allow me to at least finish this missive – it won’t take long. Kain’s been whining for attention anyway.”

Leafy looked to the black wolf who was pathetically wagging his tail while glancing up from his laying position on Cullen’s old clothes. He emitted a soft whine as the young elf narrowed her gaze at him. “He needs to hunt.” She walked over and sat down so that the wolf could rest his head in her lap. The wagging of his tail accelerated as she found his favorite spots behind his ears and underneath his chin.

By the time they got to their third game of chess, Kain was dutifully with the Inquisitor and the group was exploring the battlements since the Commander was absent from his usual post. Athena positioned him just right so he wouldn’t be able to see the walls of the Keep at all. Plus, he was just a competitive warrior his entire attention was on the board. During the course of the Inquisition, he, Dorian, Solas, and Bull would play her in chess. On Earth, she had maybe played once or twice a year, but now she was fluent in three different styles. Qunari was the most difficult but it was rigidly straight forward.

Leafy was napping on the stone bench next to them under the gazebo, her toe tapping in the air to an imaginary beat. Cullen made a hum of decision-making before moving his piece forward, taking one of her pawns. “How have things been, Athena?”

She moved her bishop to take the piece he had just moved nonchalantly, swapping them out with a quick gesture. “Great, actually. My people are getting settled in the Emerald Graves and I’m due for a trip to visit them. Supposedly the bears are getting restless with a dragon so close nearby.”

He huffed a chuckle under his breath. “Are you going to slay this one as well?”

She smiled, feeling a light ache in her dragon’s scar across her belly. “I don’t plan on it. Can you shoo away a dragon?”

Cullen couldn’t help but laugh at her, moving his last piece into position. “Not likely but I would love to see you try. Checkmate.”

Athena frowned before leaning back in her chair, checking in with Kain through their connection. I smell flowers! The wolf remarked with excitement, leading her to think they were coming to the part of the battlements that dropped down to the halls beside where they were sitting. She stood from the chair with a faux-expression of boredom. “All this defeat makes me crave wine, how about a glass, Cullen? Not you, Lev’adin. One glass will have you falling from my tower.” She shut down the teenager before she could even ask.

“I have enjoyed playing, but I should really get back to work, Athena.” He pled, standing with her while glancing around. She needed to keep his attention on her and Leafy so she wrapped her arm around his shoulder and led him towards the main hall.

“First - wine. I’ll help you with some of your letters and bring some of my own.” They breached the great hall and she pushed him towards the cellars. “Go pick your favorite and meet me back here.”

He looked to her with a miffed expression before succumbing to her demands, rolling his eyes with a half-smile. As he left ear-shot she leaned down to Leafy and whispered, “Remember that wind swirl spell I taught you?”

The young mage nodded enthusiastically with a wicked grin spreading on her lips. “Go cast it and fade-step back here like nothing happened. Open the window but then close the door on your way back.” She saluted to her mother and took off like a bullet towards Cullen’s office. He returned a few minutes later with a basket of sorts.

“I think I got everything, shall we go?” Athena nodded and took the basket from him, smiling while panicking on the inside that Leafy wouldn’t be back in time. But thankfully she appeared from a side-door like nothing was wrong even though her hair was slightly frizzier than before she left. The Commander didn’t seem to notice and they continued talking until they reached his office. He pushed open the door for them but then his jaw dropped at the utter destruction that was now his office. The papers were blown everywhere and the pile that was Kain’s bed was hanging from the ladder up to his loft.

It was like a literal tornado had torn through his office, and Athena couldn’t have been prouder.

There wasn’t a single piece of paper that was in place. The look of shock on Cullen’s face was priceless. Athena instantly gasped, putting her hand on his shoulder while looking around in feigned terror. “What happened? How could this of - “She then looked to the side. “Oh, Cullen, the window is open. You know how this season brings strong winds up into the mountain.”

“Strong winds? This was -!” He lost the words and put his hand to his forehead instead, taking in a deep controlled breath before letting it out in a sigh. “Let’s get to work then. The missives were dated so those should be easier to organize. The rest…will have to be done later.”

Hours. It took hours to put the office back together again and the entire time Leafy and Athena would exchange secret, knowing glances. Cullen almost enjoyed reorganizing his office, the detail maniac that he was. Things were tidier by the time they were done and the sun was beginning to set. The Commander finally sat down in his chair and looked at his desk with an expression that she could only describe as pride. It was something she understood, the feeling of a job well done.

Athena felt a sharp jolt in the back of her head and she knew it was Kain. She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed, closing her eyes to that she could see through the eyes of her wolf. Rathein and Mia were bending over her companion with smiles, scratching behind his ears while going, “Can she hear us boy?” Kain nodded and gave a small yelp. “Oh good! Hey Athena, we’re in the tavern now but we’re setting up. Just don’t let him come here but get him riled up okay?”

A rambunctious blonde woman leaned in, her curls coming over her shoulders as she smiled. “Sister’s orders!”

Kain then returned to receiving his affections and Athena faded back into her own consciousness. She didn’t know it but Cullen had stood up and walked over to her and put his hands on her shoulders, looking her up and down. “Athena, are you alright?”

“Headache.” She lied, giving him a smile before shrugging underneath his touch. Leafy cleared her throat to the side, tapping her foot impatiently. Just as she was about to speak the door burst open to the side, Kain running in at a full sprint. He ran circles around the Commander and Leafy then pushed himself in front of Athena before bending down into a play bow, his tail furiously wagging. This would have been typical behavior for him just before dinner time, save for the fact that he was wearing Cullen’s helm. “I think we found the source of your tornado, Commander.” Athena teased while silently praising her companion.

“Andraste help me – Kain, get back here!”

The chase began.

Lev’adin had been right, Kain was in desperate need of a hunt. Skyhold, for as large as it was, could be a prison for a natural born hunter. They raced down the battlements and through the courtyard, Leafy and Athena laughing the whole time. It was also the first she had really seen Cullen sprint in nearly full armor. At one point she thought he was enjoying the chase but then she caught a glance at his expression. It was pure competition at that point.

Athena gestured for Leafy to go ahead to the tavern and lead Kain there. They had played long enough. Kain made a sharp turn down the stairs out of sight towards the meeting place for the evening. Leafy was hot on his tail and they were all en route to get there in seconds. The door to the tavern opened and Rathein stuck her head out, mouthing ‘one more minute’ while allowing Kain and Leafy to enter before slamming the door shut just as Athena and Cullen came close.

She cursed under her breath and rubbed the back of her neck, thinking of a way to buy time before pointing to the side of the building. “I think he ran this way. He loves smelling what the kitchen is cooking.”

“I really think he came into the tavern – did you not hear that door slam?” Cullen asked between winded breaths. They both looked ragged and worn down but she wasn’t going to give up so easily.

“Hey - shapeshifter magic, remember? Come on this way. He’s probably lost energy like us and needs a place to sleep.” They went to the side and she led the ‘search’ in all of the nooks and crannies She heard a loud groan behind him and turned just in time to see him throw his hands in the air.

“What are you playing at?” Shit. “Ever since this morning, you and your daughter have just been odd. It was fun but I’ve lost an entire day of work and -” He itched the back of his head and allowed his hand to drop, trying to reign in the frustration on his face. “I’m going to cool myself down with a meal and return to my duties. You’re free to join, but no more nonsense.”

Not enough time. She panicked, which was silly considering the topic, but her body thought quicker than her mind. Soon she was gripping his shoulder and turning him to face her, his back nearly against the side of the tavern. “What?” He asked curtly even with some of the frustration falling from his voice.

She could only think of one thing that would pause him, or at least silence him for enough time. She bit her bottom lip before collecting her bravery, gripping him by the overcoat and pulling him towards her. He didn’t fight it, but as she pressed her lips against his she heard him gasp. It wasn’t entirely unexpected between them, but she had hoped for a better moment. It took a second, but he sighed, relaxed, and cupped her face between his hands and fully accepted the kiss. His entire presence shouted warm. It enveloped her and replaced the butterflies that represented panic with affection. His war-worn hands brushed over her skin and sent a shudder down her spine. She moved until his back was pressed against the tavern behind him and they broke apart at the sound of the door opening. “Kain! Where did you get this?” Rathein’s voice called out in amusement. “We need to return this to the Commander.” Cullen chuckled under his breath, eyes completely fixed on her mouth as he ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “I suppose we should make her search shorter. Can we talk about this later?” Athena could only manage a nod while pushing him towards the tavern door playfully. He looked over his shoulder back at her with a boyish smile on his lips, rubbing the back of his neck as he greeted the Rathein. “I see you have captured the thief, Inquisitor.” “Oh yes he is inside, can you help me pry your helm off of him?” She asked, opening the door as Athena rounded the corner to usher them both inside. The moment he cleared the door there was a loud, resounding scream. “Surprise!” “Maker help me - “ He cursed at the group of people, his eyes narrowing in on his sister. Athena saw him stiffen, he had admitted to being almost distant with his family since joining the Templars. But that rigidness faded away once Mia brought him in for a tight hug. Once she was done with him she moved to Athena, wrapping her arms around her and nearly lifting her from the ground. “Thank you, Athena! I knew you could do it!” Once she was firmly back on the ground she laughed, fighting the blush on her face and chest. Mia spun and went to grab food with the Inquisitor as Cullen walked over to her, a single brow raised as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I should’ve known my sister was involved. Only she can bring such chaos to a place. That wasn’t - er – idea was it?” He asked with his voice growing soft, eyes dropping to the ground between them before shyly meeting her gaze. Athena shook her head with a genuine smile, putting a hand on his shoulder to turn him towards the group. “Silly Lion, of course not.”

Like my writing? Buy a tired nurse a coffee.

#writing prompt #thank you friend #cullen #cullen rutherford #athena #athena wolfsbane #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #my writing #rawrwrites #woo night shift #pumping through prompts #lev'adin #leafy #kain the wolf #rathein #post-corypheus

11 notes · View notes

hollyhomburg · 7 years

Text

Don’t Care if it Hurts pt. 4

Dog hybrid! + Gaurd dog!Jimin x Reader) (ft.olderBrother! + Mafia boss!Namjoon)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Summary: After a rival gang makes an attempt on your life, Your older brother, the infamous leader of Seoul’s largest gang; Kim Namjoon gets you a guard hybrid; Park Jimin, The reigning champion of Seoul’s underground hybrid fighting ring.

Pairing: Jimin x Reader, mentions of Unrequited!Hoseok x Reader, unrequited!Taehyung x reader.

Warnings/tags: Past abuse, Blood, Mafia!reader, Mafia!Namjoon, Older brother!Namjoon, DogHybrid!Jimin, fighting, slow burn, general angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, Alcoholism, hurt/comfort

Wordcount: 6.2k

authors note: Hey guys! I'm so stunned by the positive responses I've gotten from everyone~ I'm so glad that everyone loves IDCIIH so much. Also- I'm nearing finals week, It’s unlikely that this story will be updated until after my finals are over.

wine mom Seokjin and Namjoon are my favorite fight me on this. also, Healthy Jimin is my kink.

Song to play during this chapter: press your number ~ taemin

It didn’t surprise you; what was waiting when your alarm went off. Jimin stretched, eyes tired from where he had taken up shop curled around your feet. “Master Namjoon left a note on your door when he left a little while ago.” He said. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and looking like he hadn’t slept a wink.

Before washing up and getting ready for your classes (which started in a few hours) you opened your door to get the note. It was one of your brother's little quirks, it made you a little happy, knowing you where the only one he’d rather talk too in person than text.

Something came up, Seokjin will cook on Friday night. Sorry. Going with Suga to Busan, Be back WEDS, Love you. – RM

You sighed rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and tucking the note into one of the drawers by your vanity.

“What was it?” Jimin asked.

“The family dinner’s going to be on Friday instead, and Namjoon’s away in Busan today with one of his men.”

“Why is he going all the way to Busan?” Jimin had been too Busan once, a very long time ago with his old master for a small fight- too see if it was worth his while to extend his spheres of influence and open up a fighting house there. But it hadn’t been worth it- the pool of fighters too small to draw in a significant crowd. He remembers the drive thought, how they passed through farmland and how he watched the sky turn from night to day the closer they got to the sea.

“Probably something to do with guns if he’s bringing Yoongi.” You answer flopping back down on your bed, “I wish I had 5 more hours to sleep.”

“You could always skip class?” he said, you shook your head.

“If I don’t go I won't leave my bed today.” He takes his suppressants with water from the tap while you tear apart your closet searching for something to accompany the spring chill and rain that’s rolled in since yesterday.

He’s not surprised that his body feels so sluggish. He’s barely gotten any sleep today, maybe he could convince you to take a nap with him later- though with Namjoon gone today- it's probably little less than safe for him to be asleep.

There’s a little extra time today- so you pour both yourself and him a bowl of cereal and eat here instead of buying street food on the way to class.“You’re really tired today?” you ask slowly. Usually, you wouldn’t comment on it but he’s leaning over his bowl looking like he wants to sleep in his cereal.

“Yeah.” He says slowly. His ears twitching in a way that lets you know that he’s uncomfortable. For the life of you-you can’t imagine why. You had thought it would have gotten better as last night he slept on the end of your bed- though you suppose your nightmare would have interrupted his sleep. You’re so wrapped in your thoughts you miss the first part of what he says. “-To be safe so I didn’t sleep…”

“What?” you ask, looking up from where you’ve been pouring yourself a coffee. Jimin’s cheeks are flushed, and he’s looking up at you through his eyelashes in the same way he does when he’s worried he’s doing something he’s not supposed too.

“Someone could come in and hurt you when you sleep- so I’ve been staying awake at night to make sure nothing happens.” He says, not meeting your eyes.

“Jimin.” You say, your heartbreaking.

“I just wanted to keep you safe- and I didn’t want to give you any reason-” any reason to make you send me back you know he was about to say.

“Jimin, I’m at my safest here- you don’t need to protect me in this house.” you touch his hand on the white marble table. “I just need you to take care of yourself, you cant go days without sleep- it’s not healthy for you.” The grandfather clock in your living room chimes the hour indicating that you only have a half an hour to make the 15-minute walk to campus.

You sigh. Jimin looks up at you. You are almost standing in-between his legs as your fingers trace a design on the back of his hand. “We have class to go to now but I’ll cancel your suit fitting so that we can come straight back today- then you are going to sleep.” Jimin nods slowly, looking at your worried face shyly.

By the time Namjoon arrives Wednesday at midnight; you have both settled into a quiet rhythm of cohabitation. You learn quickly that Jimin prefers spending the night curled around your legs as opposed to the settee or his own bedroom. He moves his clothes into your closet which has so much empty space that you hardly notice.

You start your search for your gala dress- and you have several brought up on your laptop and are waiting to order them. You postpone the fitting for Jimin’s suit with the tailors until Friday afternoon and get back just in time for the dinner- no one is there yet besides Namjoon. who’s getting ready himself when Jimin leaves to take a shower. he was surprisingly fidgety at the suit fitting today; shuffling back and forth from foot to foot while the tailor Namjoon uses measured him. And you knew without asking that he was nervous about the family dinner. You assured him best you could; attempting to dissolve his worries.

You busy yourself in putting more effort into your usual appearance. After all family dinners are a rare occurrence, and you know from past experiences that the boys usually go out afterward. Most of the time you decline Resolving to stay behind with your brother and usually Yoongi. Because of that- they are usually dressed to the nines, and you use the family dinner as an excuse to showcase the more expensive part of your wardrobe. 3 different dresses are hung up on the hooks on the bare wall that you put in for this purpose. All black, but different brands; Vercase, Prada, and Gucci. You save that choice for last and instead put on your fluffy robe.

A quiet knock comes at the door; you’re sitting at your vanity dusting a healthy amount of blush onto your cheeks. Its Jimin, looking partially undone with his white t-shirt unbuttoned, you chuckle and stand to help him with the last few buttons. He’s not wearing an undershirt underneath it- and you smile slightly. For all his knowledge and his input into your personal life- there are something’s that still remain foreign to him. The black slacks fit his toned legs nicely, and you notice that in the last week he’s put on a little bit of weight. He looks so much more healthy than when you first met. The years of stress and the black eye circles are just starting to disappear from his face. He cleans up so nicely, you do your best to not let your hands linger when you're done with his buttons, hoping that he doesn't notice your blush.

“Hoseok’s here to see you,” he says slowly. And you gulp and do your best not to look startled. You follow him into the main room to see Hoseok standing with his back against your doorway. It’s not his first time in your room but somehow it feels more like an invasion than you’re used too.

“I just wanted to talk too you” he looks fine- unchanged since the last time you’ve both talked, but his eyes flicker to Jimin and you wonder for a second if Hoseok suspects he was listening in the other day. Jimin’s eyes flicker up to yours.

“Are you alright or should I wait for you before I go down?” his eyes flicker to Hoseok who bristles angrily at what Jimin suggests. of course, you’d be fine with Hoseok.

“She’s safe with me- go too your master.” He snaps, Jimin turns steely for a second and you want to reach out to him- to ask him to stay before he turns and leaves your room.

“That wasn’t kind,” you say to Hoseok, turning and walking back into your closet, studiously ignoring him while you settle back into your vanity. Several drawers are pouring with Jimin’s clothing. Hoseok notices this and picks up a pair of his track pants, before throwing them in the bin angrily.

“You’re letting him stay in your room.”

“Yes, he felt like it would make it easier to protect me,” you say brazenly, eyes flickering to meet his in the mirror. His tone is a little too accusatory for your liking.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure protecting you is the only thing on his mind.”

“And last time I checked it’s got nothing to do with you.” Hoseok fiddles with your dresses on the wall, looking back at you. and you are more than a little surprised to see him so sad. He inhales a shaky breath. “This really is a mess isn't it?” he gestures in between the two of you.

and you nod, “We’re supposed to be friends, Hoseok, I can handle you being a little jealous, but what you said the other day was a little out of line.”

“I’m sorry- I should have respected your decision, what you do with him isn’t any of my concern.”

“It’s alright,” you say, brushing on some eyeliner with careful precision.

“I’m sorry for what I said the other day, it was out of line.” He says quietly, his long fingers have grabbed onto a strand of your neatly curled hair twining it around his fingers. “I’m still not used to seeing you with other people.”

“It’s been a long time Hoseok,” will you ever let it go? You want to ask, as you spin and meet him, he lets go of the strand of your hair, and you realize how close he’s standing.

“I just want things to go back to the way things were, I want to be your friend again- the way we were before anything between us happened.” You swallow back the lump in your through; Thinking back to your harsh words that were said so many months ago. It’s nearly been 2 years- and not once since that night have you broached the topic. If there was ever any flirty girlish part of you that wanted to be with Hoseok it’s gone, squelched out by the events of the last few months.

If there’s one thing that is so close to death so many times has taught you it’s what you need. And in that moment you are sure that Hoseok it’s it. And maybe Jimin isn’t- maybe no one is exactly what you need. But regardless, Hoseok has been hoping for something that will never come for far too long.

At this point, it was nearly cruelty.

“I want to be friends too.” You say slowly, and you sound as confident as you can. “I want to go back to the way we were before.” he embraces you quickly and quietly. And the hug is full of so many unshed emotions that his hands shake.

“I’m glad that we can finally talk about this.” He says against your hair.

“I am too” You look down at his feet. “I’ll see you down there,” you say as you wander over to your jewelry box. Intent on finally using some of the diamond studs that Namjoon gave you this Chrismas.

“You look beautiful, by the way,” Hoseok says doing his best to make his statement casual, but you can't help but think that he say’s it like it might be his last chance. Even so the complement which would usually make you feel nothing, makes you feel awkward.

“Thanks.” You say, and he smiles softly before leaving. The door too your suite closes and when it does you put your head in your hands and sigh. You flick through the rolls and rolls of rings, the isles of necklaces. Some of the jewelry is from your mother, others have been handed down but most are from your brother (who just loves to spoil you with his blood money.)

You look around and realize that none of this, none of the anxiety you get when your brother disappears for days at a time, is worth the pretty little things in your closet, or the jewels in the box. No amount of riches is worth the feeling you get when the people you love come back with cuts that turn into scars. You’d rather have a mediocre existence than live in this big lonely house and have more money than you know what to do with.

Downstairs, no one has arrived yet- its only Jimin and Namjoon, who teeters slowly. Namjoon is already cracking open a bottle of wine and pouring it into a glass. “I have whiskey somewhere but y/n and Jin love this stuff.” Jimin makes a noise in the back of his throat. It’s the first time he and Namjoon have been alone since the car ride and Jimin has to admit he looks more like a tired businessman than a mafia boss.

Jimin is glad that you took the time after his suit fitting to buy him a less expensive suit for him. Namjoon looks expensive. His light blue velvet suit coat contrasts blends perfectly with the white shirt and dark blue pants he wears. Next to him in colors of black and white, Jimin feels almost bland.

“I’ve never had wine before,” Jimin admits softly. Namjoon’s eyes are wide, but they slide off of Jimin in a way that lets him know he’s realizing why he’s never had alcohol.

“That’s fine- there’s more than enough to share.” Says a voice from the doorway. This man is different than the others. Where most of the gang members have looked almost playfully rugged, like Hoseok, this man has angelic features and wide shoulders.

The black button-down shirt and the colorfully embroidered jacket are at odds with his warm skin and hair. Jimin thinks in the moment before he stoops to grab the bags laden with food from him, that he looks more like a supermodel than a gangster.

“I’m Seokjin.” The man says with a smile as Jimin helps him unload the food on to the counter. Some of them are still warm while others look ready to be cooked. The smile he gives Jimin as he helps is easy and elastic. “I’ve heard a lot about you Jimin.”

Jimin isn’t sure if it’s the man’s angelic expression or his kindness that makes his cheekbones spark with blush. But luckily for the both of them the front door thunders open, and all Jimin knows that Taehyung howling in delight as Hoseok and Jungkook carry him in on his broken leg, his cast sticking out from under a pair of dress shorts. Seokjin laughs a windshield wiper laugh as Yoongi mimes shooting all of them with Taehyung’s leg as the gun. Jimin smiles, pressing the back of his hand against his mouth to hide it as they laugh.

They deposit Taehyung on the kitchen counter. Instantly chatter ensues, someone grabs a bottle of whiskey. “You got any mixers boss? Jungkook asks, Namjoon nods his head in the direction of the mini bar. And the youngster disappears with Hoseok.

“Hyung- when is the food going to be ready?” Taehyung wines as Yoongi signs his cast with a sharpie, (doodling something that looks kind of like a scratchy bird) Seokjin twines an apron around his waist.

“Some of the veggies still have to cook, you could help me you know- might make it go faster.”

Taehyung wines and slumps over the countertop. “But that would be workkkk” Jungkook produces 3 glasses of something that looks suspiciously like absinthe. Seokjin moves to slap him on the shoulder with the back of a spatula. “You could always help and make it go faster you ungrateful little shit- if the lot of you weren’t such a wreck I’d let you use my kitchen.”

“How can you hit an invalid? You’re so mean!”

“’Scuse me.” Namjoon says, smiling warily, “but I think you’re forgetting who owns this house.”

“Irrelevant” Seokjin replies, “This is still my kitchen.” The easy banter is a sound that Jimin appreciates, and the smiles that stretch across all of their faces is almost lulling. How could these men be dangerous? Appearances were deceiving- Jimin knew that much But the easy atmosphere was already easing his anxiety away. He starts to feel less And less like he was waiting for one of them to ask something of him- to order him around or away.

You had assured him earlier that he would be expected to eat with them and that if any of them tried to talk down to him that he should tell you. You had also added that you didn’t think they would. Despite their profession, Namjoon’s inner circle weren’t the type to judge or mistreat anyone without provocation you had told him. At first, he had been worried- but now he was starting to see why he had no reason to be.

“Ah where is y/n I need some help cutting up the broccoli- I trust none of you with the knives,” Seokjin complained.

Taehyung turns to Jimin, “yeah where is my girlfriend?” half of the boys snort at this interpretation. Though Hoseok is one of the few who remains stoic.

“I turned you down last week Taehyung- and the week before that, and that.” Everyone turns to look at where you’ve appeared in the doorway.

Jimin has to reign in his heart with the way that it's beating frantically against his chest. Because damn it- you look like you’ve been made for him. With your hair in loose waves, and your black lace dress- a mischievous and seductive patter that curls around the shoulders and top. Your outfit would be nearly demure if it wasn’t for the way that it curled around your hips and chest, highlighting the very best of your features. The diamonds that glitter against your ears are not half as dazzling as the grin you send their way. The only pop of color on you is your lips- painted red to match the bottoms of your shoes.

“dammmnnnnn” Taehyung lets out, and Jimin has to stop and realize that his tail is wagging Namjoon has noticed Jimin’s behavior. But you distract him. Walking in-between the two of them to snag a wine glass from your brother.

“Pick your jaw off of the floor you dog.” Yoongi snaps, slapping Tae across the chest, his gaze drifting to Jimin a second after Jimin flinches, “sorry Jimin- I meant Tae.” He says in a rush. The uncomfortable situation is remedied by Jungkook who raises his mixed drink.

“Don’t you want to try it y/n?” you snort, plucking an already uncorked expensive bottle from the table before filling your empty glass.

“The last time I had one of your concoctions- I woke up on the other side of the city and found I had accidentally joined a girl gang.”

“Did you really?” Jimin asks, amusement thudding at the corners of his mouth. Your ruby smile wraps around the ring of the wineglass

“Unfortunately for them, I’m a one-woman gang-“ Namjoon scratches the back of his neck at the memory, trying to hide his grin in his wineglass.

“That certainly was a debacle.” You go to stand by Seokjin as the conversation shifts.

“Tell me how I can help.” You ask, and Seokjin hands you a spoon and you sets you stirring a sauce that still needs to thickening. Jungkook drags Jimin into a game with Taehyung and Hoseok that seems to be about slapping the other without being slapped and their laughter ripples off the high ceilings. All of them are enamored with Jimin’s quick reflexes.

He grasps the concepts of it easily- and quickly beats all of them. You toss a grin over your shoulder and catch Hoseok’s eye by accident but your smile doesn’t falter. You know he see’s you looking at the hybrid but you can’t tear your eyes away from the group of them. He gives you a disapproving look and turns. Then He’s back to his smiling self and you watch as that sunshine filled grin spreads to Jimin- it’s infectious.

You’re glad that for once Hoseok is treating Jimin more as one of your family- he is becoming apart of your little unit you realize, with every day he gets more comfortable and more warmed up. You wonder if after a few months he’ll even flinch when someone raises an arm too fast. You want that for him you realize. You want him to be comfortable and to erase the tension and suspicion that’s been put on his shoulders from years of abuse.

Your hand stops stirring. Seokjin casts a glance at you, his eyes dawning with a realization that you can’t place. He glances to Namjoon- who’s chatting to Yoongi completely oblivious too whats going on in his own house. “Jimin-ah.” He calls as their game comes to a finish. “Can you help y/n set the table?”

Things are surprisingly easy over dinner, with everyone enjoying the expensive wine from Namjoon’s personal cellar and the food that is warm and absolutely delicious. Jimin complements and thanks, Seokjin more than once as he attempts to try every dish. You tease him lightly- asking him if he’d like a larger plate so that he can fit everything. You sit directly to his left. Under the table, your leg accidentally brushes his and you both flinch back. The tableware is laced with gold and the spoons are so shiny that Jimin is worried about scratching them.

“So I hear that you could put any of us on the floor in a few seconds.” Taehyung grins at Jimin, his tone playful. If there’s any darkness in it or hidden meaning behind his words they are lost on Jimin. Jimin shrugs and appraises the group with a shrug.

“Probably” his eyes flicker to the youngest member at the end of the table. “Though I’ve only really fought Jungkook.” Jungkook grimaces; remembering how it felt to have been put on the floor no doubt.

“Just remember I’m better than all you motherfuckers.” He sips his drink defiantly. The youngest points a finger at the other men.

“Ah you know that’s not fair all of us have our own strengths-“ Hoseok admonishes.

“Everyone’s got their job.” You say, and across the table, Hoseok grins at you. Biting his tongue in a way that lets you know he’s got a biting reply but is holding back.

“What is your job? What is it that all you do in the gang?” Namjoon at the head of the table looks taken aback by Jimin’s sudden question. But with a quick nod and a sweeping gesture too Seokjin at his right, the man puts down his glass of wine.

“I guess I’m the medic- I fix most problems that aren’t major, and I handle our books, and make sure no money goes where it shouldn’t.”

“I’d be lost without my human calculator,” Namjoon says.

“It’s not my job if you break every piece of electronics that you touch” Seokjin rolls his eyes. It’s only been one dinner- but Jimin can see why Seokjin is Namjoon’s second. There is something about the man that is almost steadying, and Jimin decides that he likes him.

“That’s a little bit different than what I trade in.” Jungkook groans, and slaps Tae’s shoulder.

“You’re so dramatic hyung.”

“What do you trade in?” Jimin asks.

“Don’t indulge him.” You tell him, but Tae leans across the table, appraising Jimin over the edge of his gold-rimmed glasses,

“Mostly drugs” Taehyung winks, “but I also trade in secrets.” His grin is cocky and mischievous before he goes back to his food.

Yoongi stretches his back lacing his fingers behind his head. “I’m the weapons expert- it doesn’t matter what it is; shotgun, desert eagle, bazooka. If I can get it in my hand's nothing stands a chance.” Jimin shivered at how proud he sounded, proud of being a killer.

“What’s your longest kill shot now?” You ask idly. You don’t seem to be bothered by his calloused approach toward murder. Yoongi smirks knocking back his drink.

“950 yards last week.”

“No way…” you grin appreciatively.

“We should hit the range sometime- I hope you haven’t been sloppy.”

“You know I haven’t picked up a gun since our last training session.”

“Everyone needs to know how to defend themselves.” Jimin interrupts. And there is a little uptick in his pulse as he interrupts your banter. But no one tells him to keep his mouth shut or that he should leave the talking to the humans. They only nod along- Namjoon especially.

“I agree,” Jungkook says, gesturing at the table with a waspish movement. “You already know what I do, but I’m also an enforcer with Hoseok.” His eyes flash to Hoseok as they share a glance, “we make sure people pay their debts.” Directly across from you, Hoseok leans back, crossing his arms.

“My profession is a little more explosive than theirs. When Namjoon needs a distraction I provide it, whether that’s a fire or a bomb is up too Namjoon. I’m also a getaway driver.”

Namjoon leans back, smiling at his friends. “And a damn good one.” You snort.

“A damn good one that spends half his spare time doing doughnuts in abandoned parking lots.” though it might seem vapid, your grin lets them all know that you’re just teasing.

“Do you forget who taught you how to drive?” You feel warm and fuzzy, the wine makes your bones relax- makes you brave enough to tease him and reestablish your friendship so soon after your conversation.

“Yes- and you almost killed me doing it.”

“Everyone should know how to weave in and out of traffic.”

“Commuting to college isn’t drag racing. Hoseok.”

“What about other skills- what else can you do besides shoot and drive?” Jungkook asks his smile equally as teasing as yours.

“Jeeze when you put it like that we don’t sound like much at all,” Yoongi comments sarcastically.

Namjoon grins- “I like it, we could all handle being chopped down- ya need to stay humble.” Jimin can tell by the flush covering his master’s cheeks that he’s beginning to feel more than a little tipsy.

“You could too you know- walking in with that dress acting like you’re innocent,” Hoseok says, his eyes on yours, his smile is lopsided as he crosses his arms.

Besides him, Taehyung makes a noise of ascent. “It’s so unfair- you sure you won't let us take you out?”

“You’re either being fake or real with me and I can’t decide which one pisses me off more.” Your eyes narrow, and you teeter on the edge between joking and flirting.

“Thanks for narrowing it down for me sweetheart.”

“Keep talking, the more you do, the more I want to put you in your place.” Jimin had never seen you like this. As you leaned forward holding your glass of wine- looking exactly like the little devil everyone thought you where. Hoseok leaned in across from you giving you the smirk that must have gotten him laid time and time again.

“Oh you know I’d love you see you try.”

“Guys.” Namjoon said, looking about as comfortable as butter in a knife factory, “stop flirting with my sister before I’m convinced I need to separate you from your favorite part of your body.”

“Sorry boss” Taehyung smirked, his bandaged leg propped up on the chair next to him. “You know how we love to tease.” No one brought attention to the fact that Taehyung hadn’t been the one doing most of the flirting with you. The shrill ring of Tae’s cellphone knocked everyone out of conversation, he answered it smoothly, not bothering to get up from the dinner table. Everyone went quiet. After a moment he passed it onto Namjoon. Taehyung ran a finger along his lips. Sighing looking down at his food. He looked up, shaking his head at Jungkook across the table.

“Yes.” He said into the phone, you and Jimin looked on ominously. Namjoon made a noise of agreement and ran his fingers through his hair, standing. He hung up the phone after a second.

“The shipment?” Yoongi asked Namjoon nodded. Yoongi puts his napkin beside his drink.

“Our informants think that the X’s are going to try to hit our shipment within the hour.” Jimin watched you as you swirl your wine silently, your eyes downcast. He wonders if you know your brother's plans. If he ever confides in you about what the gang is doing. He probably should and probably does. But with the way that they talk to you sometimes- Jimin wonders how much you know. It is no doubt in an effort to keep you safe, but recent events have probably thrown that out the window.

“Set a trap or divert the shipment?” Jungkook asked Namjoon’s eyes flickered once to Jimin and you before he turned to Hoseok. Jimin remembered what he had said before- that he specialized in arson and explosives.

“Do you have enough time for both?”

Hoseok nodded. “We need to move now though.”

“Then what are we still doing here,” Yoongi says standing up from the table. Everyone else followed, the food forgotten. You ran your fingers through your hair as you listen to them plan the attack that would likely end in a loss of life. So much for your family dinner. Namjoon leaned down, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Don’t wait up.” You twiddled your wine glass in your hand and made a noncommittal noise finally getting up to follow them- though you only want to watch them go you stand in the doorway as You watch your brother get into a sleek black car with Yoongi, as Hoseok and Seokjin get into Seokjin’s car only with Hoseok in the front seat. Taehyung is calling someone to take him back to the hospital while his leg is propped up on a garden bench.

Hoseok rolls down the window and tosses Jungkook the keys for the motorcycle propped close too the steps. “Hurt her and you’re dead.” He says, before starting rolling up the window.

The compound was buzzing with movement, and you watched as lights from the apartment building flickered on. You watch your family leave with a sour feeling in your stomach that had nothing to do with the fancy wine you’ve drank. Jimin is hovering behind you- just close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off of his body. You slipped off your Louis Vuitton’s and sighed as your aching arches touched the floor cold floor. You wrap your arms around yourself as the spring chill invades the doorway.

He doesn’t speak until Tae is gone too, he sends you a jerky wave as the black limo pulls up and some low-level members help him in.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly, you shook your head and downed the rest of your wine still looking into your driveway- watching it almost as if you thought Namjoon would pull back in and tell you that everyone else could handle it. “Come on.” He said grabbing your hand and tugging it gently to make you follow him. He stopped by the kitchen- grabbing the already uncorked bottles of wine that would go bad before heading up the stairs. He leads you not to your shared room but too the work out room and the deck. You looked out over the edge of the railing while he removed the cover of the hot tub. You don’t say anything until he starts to remove his suit jacket.

“Jimin.” You said, a note of warning in your voice, he ignores you and slips off his shoes and socks. Wordlessly, he holds out a hand for you, “the chlorine could ruin my dress.”

“Come on.”

“It's Vercarse.”

“You and I both know own 5 others exactly like it” You let him lead you into the knee-deep burbling water. The Jets making the hot water fizz as steam lifted off the surface. His white shirt gets soaked as he sinks into the warm water. It turns translucent as it clings to his toned chest and stomach. You hand him your empty wine glass and take the nearly full bottle from his grasp.

“I’m trusting you to make sure I don’t drown.” His grin is nearly feral with mischievousness, and you can tell he’s trying to lighten the mood, and his words are as sweet as ever.

“I’ll always keep your head above water.”

“I don’t know,” you grin, “you looked about ready to kill me after that suit fitting today.” He turns and sets the glass down on a stable surface.

“I’d never dream of it,” you make the move to sit close too him. There are no prying eyes here. No Namjoon to wonder why underneath the water you sling your legs over his; which are still clothed in soaking wet dress pants. No Hoseok to look at you with a questioning air when you take your hybrids hands in yours to run your fingers over his scarred knuckles that have finally healed.

The only light comes from the one beneath the pool, and in the darkness- it almost feels like he’s not be beholden to you at all. It almost feels like you’re just there- two ordinary people, enjoying company in sadness- with only the stars as witnesses.

Jimin tucks you into bed after drying off your dress and plugging in your phone- before he leaves you softly snoring. He disposes of the empty wine bottles in the trashcan in the kitchen. Someone’s been in to clear the table of the meal you barely shared. Jimin heard them earlier and recognized the scents enough to not be worried about who was in the house.

Outside the crickets chirp as the familiar hum of Namjoon’s car fills the driveway. He can hear The faint sound of the others arriving quietly too- at least they’re as quiet as they can be at nearly 3 in the morning- each going to their respective houses. Jimin hears him stumble against the doorframe. “Master Namjoon…” Jimin says, hovering in the doorway.

For the first time- Jimin understands why people call him Monster- he’s never met someone who had a knack for getting covered in quite that much blood. It’s everywhere, staining half his face and coloring his usually silver blond hair crimson, his white button down is torn in places and his fancy light blue velvet coat is matted and looks almost purple. Namjoon glances up at him. And Jimin sees his pupils are dilated- High? Drunk? Or bloodthirsty? Jimin doesn’t know.

“Is y/n…?” his eyes flicker back to the kitchen for a second. And Namjoon has the sense to look wary until Jimin shakes his head.

“She drank herself too sleep after you left.” Namjoon stumbles forward and Jimin catches him before he hits the ground.

“You’re not supposed to let her do that…” he slurs, Jimin starts to half carry half lead the older man up the stairs- recognizing the twinge of whiskey on his breath before he can check to see if any of the blood is his masters.

“I don’t think I could have stopped her if I tried.” His master’s room is heavily masculine- with modern minimalist edges except for a few old picture frames on a wall. Some of them are of a man and a woman that Jimin doesn’t recognize but more of them are of you. You looked adorable when you were young. He likes one photo especially- a picture of a child you holding a stuffed animal next to a teenage Namjoon- obviously won at a fair. His pause almost makes Namjoon fall face first onto the floor- Jimin narrowly avoids further staining the carpet with blood (though they’re already leaving footprints.

He leaves Namjoon under a stream of Luke warm water- not feeling vindictive enough to put him under cold before going to the house phone. He picks it up, listening to the dial tone for a moment before he realizes that he doesn’t know the number to call. He glances at his watch- and decides that its enough of an emergency- he presses the lowercase p and his watch rings once before a female voice answers.

“Hi um- this is Jimin calling from master Namjoon’s house,”

“I know sweaty.” The old woman drones annoyed- probably bothered that Jimin is calling so late.

“I-um, I don’t know the cleaners number and I was hoping you’d be able to tell me.”

“What’s the nature of the mess?” She asks, and he glances at the carpet- picking out a bit of what can only be brain matter that fell from Namjoon’s clothing.

“Master Kim spilled a whole bottle of wine.”

“Cleaning staff will be there within the hour.” The old lady says as Jimin returns to the bathroom to see Namjoon passed out against the wall. His hair is pinned too his face and Jimin can see his roots from here. Standing above him- feeling lost and more than a little overwhelmed.

“Thank you,” he says into the speaker on his smartwatch, but the blinking numbers tell him that they’ve already hung up.

The Dress:

3K notes · View notes