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#and completely ignore all three of her kids. she even ignores one of her kids deaths. she ignores the day every year
dullgecko · 3 days
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Been thinking about the sick Riz ordeal more (mainly due to your idea of Sklonda showing them Riz's baby pics - this is one of the first times they've seen a baby goblin and they all agree they are adorable
Also, my brain keeps telling me during this, Riz would have fever dreams and wants Baron to be the subject but I can't think of what he'd do. Riz knows his party is at this apartment so it does counter the "they'll leave you behind" thing a bit.
Fig and Fabian were still flipping through the Gukgak family album when the rest of their party returned with food. Gorgug and Adaine portioning out an absoloute mountain of takeaway into separate dishes to share out among the team and Sklonda.
The goblin woman disappeared into Riz's room to check on him and see if he was up for eating any food, Sklonda returning a moment later frowning and shutting the door completely behind her. They had pulled an extra bowl out for Riz's portion as well but his mom just shook her head when Gorgug held it up questioningly. The half orc putting it back away in the cupboard without saying a word.
"Still bad?" Kristen had to swallow around a mouthfull of food to talk, the cleric trying to read a small book over Fabians shoulder as the fighter flipped through it silently. His own food getting ignored as he was currently engrossed in an incredibly dry, but apparently accurate, goblin biology pamphlet that Sklonda had pulled out of a drawer for him.
"His fever is a little worse, we might have to wake him up to take extra meds if it doesn't go down soon." Sklonda took her portion of food from Gorgug, the goblin devouring it in about three seconds before moving to put her bowl in the sink. She had to smile a little bit when none of the kids even batted an eye, most Solesians found goblin eating habits weird and would stare but they hadn't even looked away from what they were doing.
"If it's that bad shouldn't we take him to the hospital?" Fig asked, picking at her portion to try and remove the onions. The vegetables getting deposited into Fabians bowl since he didn't seem to be paying attention.
"Tch no. They don't know what they're doing. The last time he was sick they recommended we take him to the vet." Sklonda scoffed, rinsing her bowl out in the sink and nearly dropping it when a loud bang followed by a thud issued from Riz's room.
Fabian was the fastest to react, dropping the pamphlet on the floor and opening the door within two seconds. The smell of a recently discharged arcubus still hanging in the air as he took in the scene inside. Riz was sitting on the floor beside his bed, arcubus in hand pointing at a spot about three feet above the matress, with a freshly smoking hole in the drywall from where he'd fired his weapon.
Riz was breathing as if he'd just run a marathon, the goblin turning his head to glance at the confused half elf as he quickly backpedalled away from the bed towards him and tried to stand. The goblin nearly tripping over his own feet in a panic as he attempted, and failed, to hide behind the fighters legs. From his party's point of view the effect was somewhat odd, Riz clearly trying to stealth repeatedly in his allies shadow and failing every time making him waver in their perception a bit.
"Oh fuck, Riz you okay?" Fig ditched her food along with the rest of her party, the archdevil just the fastest other than Fabian to respond to the noise as she crouched down in front of the hyperventilating rogue.
Riz just clutched his chest as if he was in pain, shaking his head by way of answer as he tried to calm down. Fabian still hadn't moved from his spot in front of the goblin, single eye scanning the room for anything odd before shutting the door to the bedroom again.
"The room is clear, nothing that I can see anyway." he crouched down, carefully prying the arcubus out of Riz's shaking hand and handing it off to Sklonda when she came close. "Hey. You're okay, there's nothing there."
"You didn't-" Riz gasped, flicking his eyes over to look at Fabian "-see that?"
"There was nothing there."
"Okay... okay." Riz squeezed his eyes shut, baring his teeth as he rubbed a hand over his chest again. Breathing only starting to calm down when Kristen stepped in close to press a hand against his forehead, the cleric pushing through some magic to help sooth whatever was making him hurt. "Thanks. I'm okay. Chest hurts. Got spooked."
"You shot a hole in the wall." Fabian lifted Riz up under the arms, stepping over Fig who was still crouched in his way and shifting their rogue to sit on the couch rather than the floor.
"I was trying to shoot a hole in Baron." Riz muttered, taking a glass from his mother when it was handed to him and sipping at the bitter medicine inside.
"You're having fever halucinations honey... i'm going to hold onto this until your temperature comes down a bit." Sklonda made sure the safety was engaged on Riz's weapon, the goblin woman ducking into her own room to put it away until later.
"Okay." Riz pulled a face, downing the rest of the medicine and muttering a quiet 'thanks' when Fabian took the glass off of him and took it away. The rogue skootching back on the couch to curl up in the corner rather than heading back into his room for the moment.
Adaine had moved over to check inside Riz's room when Fabian had gotten out of the way, Gorgug joining her to use mending to patch the hole he'd made above his bed though it didn't do anything to clear away the drywall dust that had gotten everywhere. Nothing was wrong as far as she could see. The closet was shut, Riz's breifcase was closed and under his desk and the window was locked.
Once she was sure there was nothing unseen lurking inside she came back out, Boggy getting placed gently in Riz's lap as she sat on the couch next to him. "You can look after him for me for a while. We'll clean up the mess in there but you should get some more rest." She pat Riz's leg near his ankle, the goblin nodding and rolling onto his side to curl up around the familiar and drop back to sleep for a while longer.
----------------------
Riz had only been partially roused from his slumber when his mom came to check on him, Sklonda touching his shoulder gently before pressing a hand to his forehead to check his temperature.
"You okay honey? Think you'd be up to eating anything?"
Riz groaned, shaking his head and rolling onto his back rather than staying curled on his side. One arm getting flopped across his eyes as he thought about the question before shaking his head to answer no.
"Alright. Let us know if you want anything later okay?" She gave the forearm flopped over his eyes a fond pat, Riz hearing her exit the room and shut the door completely when she left this time. Since his party arrived it had been open just a crack but now he was left in total darkness.
He let his arm slide off his face so it was draped around his head on the pillow instead. Eyes dropping shut again as he tried to fall back into a deeper sleep.
Riz wasn't sure how long he was lying there before he felt his matress dip slightly, panic welling up as a weight settled on his chest and made it harder for him to breathe.
"You are dying Riz Gukgak~" A familiar voice whispered close to his face, Riz's eyes shooting open to be greeted by cold empty sockets set in a pale white mask. Baron cocking his head to the side as he moved a hand to rest it on Riz's throat, the goblin strarting to hyperventilate slightly as he found it hard to move.
"You are in pain yes? Suffering? You wil die anyway from this but I could make it quick."
Riz bared his teeth, shaking his head minutely from side to side as he tried to will his arm to move. His arcubus was under his pillow, all he had to do was move and he could defend himself.
Baron tutted when Riz bared his teeth at him, moving his other hand to join the first and digging thumbs lightly into Riz's neck. The nightmare creature leaning in closer unti it was only a few inches in front of the rogues face as it started to squeeze, Riz's heart rate picking up further in pure panic until he felt like something had a grip on his chest as well.
It was at that point that he managed to will his arm to move, gripping the handle of his weapon and bringing it to bare against Barons ribcage and fireing. The bony white form jerking and letting him go which allowed him to scramble gracelessly off the bed into a heap on the floor as he tried to backpedal away. Arm keeping his weapon trained on Baron when it recovered from the attack and turned to face him again.
A sudden light from the doorway made Riz jump in surprise, Fabian staring directly at Baron but doing nothing as the goblin scrambled to get behind him. Not noticing that his breifcase was tipped over and open under his desk in his haste to get somewhere safe. He needed to hide. He needed to disappear so he could get advantage and attack again but his heart was beating so fast that he felt that everyone could surely hear it and it fucking hurt.
He heard Fig when she came over closer and asked if he was alright, not quite about to get words out with how hard he was breathing and simply shaking his head. Registering that Fabian had shut the door without doing anything and glancing up at him in a panic.
"The room is clear, nothing that I can see anyway."
The room was not clear. He'd been staring RIGHT AT Baron when he opened the door. Did he not see him? Even so he allowed the fighter to pry his weapon out of his hand, his joints creaking a bit because he'd been gripping it so hard.
"Hey. You're okay, there's nothing there."
"You didn't-" Riz tried very hard to take a deeper breath, desperatly hoping that Fabian was telling the truth but he had to check anyway. "-see that?"
"There was nothing there."
"Okay... okay." He pressed his hand harder against his chest, he felt like he was having a heart attack and his vision was starting to spot around the edges so he squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe Baron hadn't been lying. Maybe he should have accepted the quick option if dying would hurt this much.
His thoughts were interupted by Kristens hand against his forehead and a sudden wash of soothing magic across his frazzled nerves, heart rate finally starting to slow down after a few seconds and making him feel less like he was on the verge of heart failure. His chest was still sore but he could feel some of the last vestiges of his fear fading away as the magic suppressed it.
"Thanks. I'm okay. Chest hurts. Got spooked."
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whimsycore · 9 months
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I think what people don’t understand about having a narc parent is how isolated you are and how they make you feel on the daily. I had major oral surgery today and I woke up in a dark house tonight.
She literally raised me with the belief that she’s terrified of a completely dark house. And because of that I would make sure a light was turned on for her. Whether she was inside the house yet or not. This woman left one light on and it’s where she was today before she left.
The entitlement and inconsideration is part of daily living with her. But I’m supposed to stay with her because she’s scared to be alone. I’m supposed to not want anything for myself. I’m supposed to not DO for myself because she doesn’t. Imagine your entire life they make you a caretaker and they complain every minute of every day about you to someone so you can’t even trust other adults in your life. And you can’t count on your parent either because they let you down often but expect the world from you.
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icepopstar5105us · 4 months
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“Hey. Uh, Johnny?” Danny said awkwardly, “What does it mean when one of the older ghosts calls you their favored and why does it freak people out?”
Johnny 13 gave the halfa a bewildered look, “Dude. Didn’t you listen to Death? At all?”
“Death?” Danny scrunched his face, “What do you mean? I don’t…”
“Wait.” Johnny straightened, “You’ve talked with Death, right? She explained-?”
Danny shook his head, confused, “Was I supposed to?”
“When you first died, she’s supposed to appear. She gives a whole spiel and then transfers a bunch of information.” Johnny frowned, “She did it for Plasmius, so it’s not a halfa thing.”
“Oh.” Danny looked down, “What if… What if someone died and came back a few times very quickly? Would that… Would that cause any problems?”
Johnny stilled, horrified, “Ok. Look, do you want to talk about your death? Because I’m not asking if you don’t, but...”
“I guess…” Danny said, “So you know that my parents made the portal, right?”
“Yeah.” Johnny said.
“They’d been trying to do it for a long time. Plasmius actually worked with them for a while back when they were in college. It’s why all of their tech is similar in design.” Danny explained, “They built the thing, plugged it in, turned it on… and nothing.”
“But it works now.” Johnny frowned.
“Yeah. It does.” Danny nodded, “But remember my friends? Sam and Tucker?”
“The edgy emo and the computer geek?”
“As Sam’s friend, I am obligated to inform you that she is goth not emo… but yes, those two.” Danny smiled sadly, “My mom and dad were upset. They left the house and Jazz was working her shift at a library. The whole house was empty and I was… you know. A normal teenager home alone.”
Johnny snorted at that, “Ah yes. A completely normal teenager
“Yeah, yeah. The point is, the first thing I did after being left home alone was call my friends over.” Danny rolled his eyes, “Told them what happened and… It was Sam who suggested we go down there first — she’s always been into ghost and occult stuff — and look around. Tucker was down, because it was tech even if we didn’t think most of the tech would work. He wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to mess around with it. Jazz had given me some lectures on lab safety — my parents don’t usually follow it themselves — and I had a bad feeling so I put on the Hazmat suit.”
“That’s not a superhero costume you came up with?” Johnny asked, eyes widening.
“No, um. It’s a hazmat suit. The only way I changed my form was the insignia and even then that was Sam’s idea.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, but um….” Danny paused, “We wound up standing outside the portal. It wasn’t working or anything, but there was a big spooky metal hole in the wall. You know, the kind of thing you’d expect in sci-fi movies. Sam dared me to go in and I was nervous. That bad feeling just intensified, but again — fourteen. I wasn’t being smart about it. So… I went into it. I kept going and it was dark. I was turning back when I tripped and I flailed. Accidentally hit some button that was on the side and it turned on.”
Johnny took a sharp breath.
“And um. Did you know that the portal takes a lot of electricity to start up?” Danny joked weakly, “Took three blocks worth. Um, lots of ectoplasm, too — from both the zone and the artificial stuff my parents use.” He shuffled, “So um, turns out both those things can revive and kill people. So I just kind of — died and revived a lot until it turned on and basically spat me out into the lab.
“That’s - Kid…”
“So um, maybe since I was dying and reviving so much death didn’t have a chance to fill me in? Honestly, would have like the heads up.” Danny said sheepishly, “I didn’t even understand what had happened until ghosts started coming through the portal.”
“Seriously?”
Danny shrugged, “I mean, I kind of suspected. I was falling through floors. It was hard to ignore, but I didn’t know - My parents are good inventors, but not the best scientists and it made things hard to figure out.”
“What? You bought that whole non-sentient BS?”
“No.” Danny shook his head, “I just didn’t buy any of it — and I mean none of it. I wanted nothing to do with the whole thing. The whole town thought my parents were crazy, they were always in the lab working, and I only ever saw them briefly once or twice a day. Don’t get me wrong. They’re still my parents and I love them, but… they have two big priorities. Their work and their kids. Their work is just… a higher priority to them.”
“Oh.” Johnny cringed, “Oh. Kid…”
“So yeah. Life sucks. Death sucks… but I really need to know what to do and why Ember is freaking out over me being called ‘favored one’.”
“Uh, right.” Johnny paused, “Well, it’s like old ghost language. Um. Basically, it’s like being called a really, really close friend or adopted family. Kind of like… ‘hey, this is my person that I love and protect’. It’s platonic unless they specify otherwise.”
“Huh, okay.” Danny blinked, “That makes sense, but why would Ember freak out?”
“Well… who called you that?”
“Oh! Clockwork and Pandora call me that when I visit.”
Johnny blanched, “What?”
“And now you’re freaking out, too.”
“You’ve been just- Kid! Are you just casually talking to them?”
“Um, yeah? They said it was okay?”
“Do you know nothing about the hierarchy of the- Wait. No. You didn’t get to talk to Death. Of course you don’t-“ Johnny sighed — covering his eyes, “Okay, so do you know what the ancients are?”
“I thought that was just a saying.”
“No, it’s not-” Johnny pinched the bridge of his nose, “The Ancients are the most powerful spirits in the Zone. They’re ghosts, but they resemble ideals more than they do a person most of the time. Practically gods. The ancients are Undergrowth, Frostbite, Nocturne, Pandora, Clockwork, Vortex, and Pariah Dark. Thing is… where most ghosts plateau at a certain power level the ancients can just keep growing in power. Clockwork is one of the strongest — so strong, the Observants bound him to their will.”
“Yeah, I heard about that, but he’s really nice, you know.” Danny smiled, “And he makes really good cookies really fast.”
Johnny stared at Danny for a long moment, “Danny. Do you not hear yourself right now? He’s basically the god of time.”
“Yeah, but if he didn’t want me to visit, I wouldn’t be able to find him.” Danny shrugged, “So he told me if I can see the clocktower, I’m welcome to come in.”
“Kid…”
“Besides. I’m friends with half of those guys and they’re cool.”
“Wha- How many ancients do you know?”
“Um… All the ones you just listed? I’m friends with Frostbite, Pandora, and Clockwork. I fought Undergrowth, Vortex and Nocturne before, but Nocturne likes me now. Um, Undergrowth doesn’t like me, though. Loves Sam, though… Um, obviously I know who Pariah Dark is after the whole thing in Amity-“
Johnny stilled, “Wait a minute… Kid. I need you to answer me honestly here… Did Pariah ever mention a challenge when you fought him?”
“Well, um. I guess? He was all formal speak, though, so…”
“Kid.” Johnny said very slowly, “Did he ever issue a challenge or accept a challenge from you?”
“… Um. He did say that he accepted my challenge or something, but wasn’t that just fight-talk or…”
“I think I get it now.” Johnny sighed, facepalming, “Just… maybe don’t tell people about this and consider asking one of the ancients allies you have about what Pariah accepting your challenge means for you.”
“For me? What-“
“Just… give it some thought.” Johnny paused, “And- Well, I can talk to Ember for you, yeah?”
“Thanks.”
Danny curled up on a sofa as Pandora embraced him with three arms and ran her fourth hand through his hair.
“Pandora.” Danny said softly, “Some of my friends say you, Frostbite, and Clockwork are ancients.”
“They are correct.”
“I didn’t know what ancients were.”
“I noticed.” Pandora laughed a bit, “But you’re a sweet child. You helped me get my box back and did not demand my favor. Perhaps it was selfish not to tell you, but I didn’t want to distress you. You are a kind and humble soul. Is it such a surprise I wish to continue seeing you?”
“You thought I would stop if I did?” Danny asked, confused, “I mean, sure my other friends were shaken up by it, but they don’t know you. Why would I be afraid when you’re so nice?”
Pandora blinked and then smiled warmly — a little laugh pulling from her throat. Oh, the innocence of such a young spirit, “Why, indeed? I suppose I didn’t give you or myself enough credit, did I?”
Danny shrugged, “I don’t have room to judge people for being different anyway. I’m a halfa. Pretty sure that’s even rarer than being an Ancient, right?”
“I suppose that is true.” Pandora smiled, “There are only a few halfas and none are quite like you. There will only ever be one of you.”
“Does this have something to do with why I never got to meet death?” Danny asked, confused, “That’s the only thing I can find that seems all that different-“
“In a way… Yes, but there are many more differences. The main one is that you powers have grown beyond Vlad Masters and they continue to do so.” Pandora said, “You are what we call a ‘Juna Potenco’. Most realms will never have heard of such things, but us ancients do not forget and when faced with a gift like yourself… well, you’ll only see more of us with time.”
“What does that mean? Is it bad?”
“No, no. It is a gift, not a punishment.” Pandora promised, “You are an inspiring soul, favored one, and it seems the realms themselves have seen that.”
“That doesn’t sound right.” Danny pulled away and sat up as he shook his head, “I’m a halfa, but that’s what I am. It doesn’t say anything about who I am. There isn’t anything special about who I am.”
“Everyone else disagrees with that last statement.” Pandora shook her head, “But I will let you in on the secret.”
“Yeah?”
“These are not due to your half spirit nature, but something truly special.” Pandora cupped his cheek, “Danny, do you truly wish to know? As amazing as this is, I am not sure you will be ready for the truth just yet.”
“I’m - I’ve been debating what colleges to apply for, but… I don’t know if any of them will take me now with my grades. I still look fourteen — fifteen at the oldest… and I still feel fourteen.” Danny looked at Pandora with pleading eyes, “So if this would impact my future, I think I’d like to know. Before things get complicated.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Suddenly, everything froze.
Danny looked up to see Clockwork putting a medallion on Pandora while Frostbite gave him a smile.
“I presume you’re here to assist in informing him?” Pandora asked.
“Indeed.” Frostbite nodded.
“Informing me of what?” Danny asked, confused.
“When you went to face Pariah Dark, you stated your intention to fight him.” Clockwork said, “And he accepted your challenge. You fought in single combat, removed the Crown of Fire from his head, and then managed to get him into the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep.”
“Vlad-“
“Plasmius might have locked the Sarcophagus, but you have repeatedly bested him and even when he has gotten the best of you, it has not been in single combat. However, Plasmius at one point claimed your fight was a ‘fun challenge’. You agreed — officially accepting it as such. When you defeated him, he lost any fragile claim to the throne.”
“Claim to the- Wait. What are you saying?” Danny glanced between them, “What? No. No… you have to be kidding me. I’m just me. I was trying to help, not-“
“Child, your soul was always going to be tied to the zone one way or another.” Pandora said, “Mortality is already a fragile thing, but someone so surrounded by ectoplasm at a young age all while experiencing the struggles you did with your parents absence… it was inevitable that you would be a powerful ghost.”
“But, then, Great One.” Frostbite continued, “You stood fully emerged in the space between worlds and thought of protection and forgiveness — mercy. You did not even consider vengeance or desires of your own. Only the wellbeing of others. It is an act of great sacrifice and not one many can complete so fully.”
“To put it simply, Danny.” Pandora said, “You’re one of us, Juna Protenco. New and young power that will grow infinitely. Though you are far from ancient, you will be with time.”
“An ancient to be.” Danny said distantly.
“The Ancient of Protection, Space, Mercy, and Matter.” Clockwork turned into his newborn form, “The best candidate for king we’ve had in a long time. Though, perhaps I am a bit biased.”
“Does it have something to do with space-time?” Danny guessed, “Because Matter, Time, and Space…”
“Correct.” Clockwork smirked, “Matter tells spacetime how to curve, and curved spacetime tells matter how to move. I guide you and you make changes that I will use to guide you again.”
Dannu blinked, “Oh. I get it.”
“You do?” Pandora blinked.
“That’s domains for you.” Frostbite chuckled and then quickly explained when Danny gave him a confused look, “We all innately understand our domains and their meanings. My domain is progression, society, and advancement.”
“Mine is responsibility, hope, protection, and perseverance.” Pandora revealed.
“Indeed.” Clockwork transformed into the middle aged man again, “But now that you know of your future, we must prepare.” He put his hand on Danny’s shoulder, “Your coronation must happen by the time you turn eighteen. As Ghost King, you will need to learn some diplomatic skills. We will teach you while you finish your human schooling.” Clockwork promised, “You can tell your parents the truth or you can say you are simply leaving for college, but Maddie and Jack Fenton cannot move to the Zone with you. Your sister is welcome. Your friends are welcome, but unfortunately…”
“I understand.” Danny lowered his head, “I don’t think I’ll tell them just yet. Maybe I’ll leave a note or a video, but…”
Clockwork’s eyes glazed over briefly — clearly checking the timeline.
“That is a good idea.” Clockwork nodded.
“Okay.” Danny swallowed, “I can’t -”
“No.” Clockwork said, “Honored as these two would be, they have their duties and people. They cannot. I am both bound by the Observants and a little too prone to acts of selfishness. It is too much power for me. No. It must be you.”
“You’re not selfish. You helped me.” Danny tilted his head, confused.
Clockwork chuckled guiltily as Pandora made a face and Frostbite shifted awkwardly.
“There is a reason people fear me, Danny.” Clockwork seemed more amused than anything by the sudden awkwardness, “I appreciate your trust in me, but I was not so good or kind in life. I hold domain over regret and retribution as well as time. It is a position I earned after giving and getting both in equal measure. I am not a protective spirit by nature. I am one that seeks justice and sometimes revenge.”
“I don’t get it.” Danny frowned, confused.
“Soon, you will.” Clockwork said grimly, “But for now… Trust me when I say all is as it should be.”
“Okay.” Danny said, “I trust you.”
“Now, time in.” Clockwork said. When Danny tried to give him the medallion he shook his head, “No, hold onto it. I believe it goes without saying, but do not lose it.”
“I know. I won’t.” Danny promised.
“Good, now… I believe you have some friends to talk to?”
“Er, right!” Danny said and rushed off.
“He doesn’t know who you are?” Frostbite turned to Clockwork, “And you haven’t told him?”
“… He’ll learn during his studies.” Clockwork admitted begrudgingly, “And it’s best that he come to me after he processes the information than during.”
“Just remember, Kronos.” Pandora glared as she handed over her medallion, “One wrong move-“
“Yes, yes, I am very aware of your opinions of me, Keeper of Hope.” Clockwork held a hand to Frostbite, “Shall I take you back to your people?”
“Er, yes.”
“Good, then-“
“Hey! I was not finished-“
“TIME OUT!”
Pandora sighed as they disappeared, “Ugh. He is always such a petty menace. One of these days…”
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AU where Jason comes back to Gotham and begins his plan to confront Batman and all that. Except after only like a week the Joker gets hit by a bus and then shot by a little old lady with a shotgun and dies.
Jason’s plan is now in shambles because the dramatic climax of his plan is no longer possible. But that’s fine. He’ll think of some other suitable alternative. Granted, it’s not quite the same if he uses some other villain. Making Batman choose doesn’t mean nearly as much when it’s not about the person who killed him.
And really, is he going to try and get Batman to kill Black Mask or something? Scarecrow? Red Hood is competent; he could do it himself so why bother.
So Jason lays low continues to build his criminal empire with astounding speed and efficiency. If only he could think of a good way to announce his return. Nothing he can think of is dramatic enough.
Meanwhile, the Bats are freaking out because who is this guy that’s taken over half of the Gotham underworld in like a month? He’s obviously trained, but they just can’t seem to get any information on who he is or where he came from. It is beyond frustrating.
After a few months Jason is frustrated that he just can’t seem to find any dramatic good way of making Batman prove himself. It has to be something big! Something magnificent!
During his weekly chat with Talia he complains about his problems and she suggests he come back for a visit. He argues that he can’t just leave, but she says if he has competent enough lieutenants it’d be fine. He spends the next three weeks making sure that everything will be fine if he leaves for a week. He will not have all of his hard work falling apart and going to waste due to incompetence. Absolutely not.
So then once his lieutenants are sufficiently prepared (and the rest of Gotham’s criminal element sufficiently cowed), he heads to Nanda Parbat, only to find Ra’s on the phone with Bruce, who is demanding to know if the Red Hood has any affiliation with the league.
Oh. Oh. He can give them affiliation.
A new plan begins to form.
He’s going to be the most affiliated he can be. Jason immediately goes to Talia with his newest plan: Overthrow Ra’s and takeover the league. Talia whips out her forty step outline for overthrowing Ra’s and tells Jason she’s so proud of him.
Jason has a new goal now, so he gets to work. He checks on things in Gotham, but everything seems to be fine and there haven’t been any unplanned explosions so it should be fine if he stays here for a bit.
Taking over Gotham really was good practice, as it turns out. Thanks to Talia’s plans and previous foundational efforts the takeover happens in no time.
Meanwhile the bats are still freaking out. Red Hood hasn’t been seen in three weeks, he may or may not have league of assassins connections, and even in his absence his goons seem to be managing things competently.
Back in Nanda Parbat, Jason and Talia finish their takeover. And now, finally, he’s ready to confront Batman.
He arrives in Gotham as the new head of the league. His arrival is loud, elaborate, and dramatic enough to fulfill his inner theater kid’s dreams.
Batman is speechless. And not his usual grunts instead of words, but actual surprised speechless. Jason is alive?!?!?!?
Jason was not expecting all the tears. And hugs. And mother henning. Goodness gracious, this was not part of the plan.
Bruce is obviously struggling with Jason’s revelation that he took over the league, but the newest little birdie seems almost relieved at that(?) and Dick and Alfred both seem strangely proud. Whatever. Even Bruce seems to be at least mostly ignoring that for now.
Then someone asks him if he knows Red Hood. Jason blinks. Says that yeah, he knows Red Hood. Everyone seems to ease at that. One mystery solved. Jason quickly realizes that most of them have no idea he is Red Hood. Cass seems to be the only exception but also appears amused and willing enough to not mention it.
Dramatic appearance complete, Jason now has a new goal: see how long he can keep the bats (minus Cass and potentially Alfred) in the dark about his crime boss identity.
He will bribe Cass as much as it takes to keep her on board with the causing chaos plan, but she seems eager enough. Favorite sibling status definitely unlocked. (The whole killing thing is fought over at great length and a truce of sorts is eventually made)
David Cain is never heard from again.
Damian shows up at some point.
At least one league member has suddenly found themselves as an HR rep for Gotham criminals? They’re still not quite sure how that happened.
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the other five [ five hargreeves x reader ]
request: Hello! This is my first time desperately requesting a fic because the new season is SO bad 😭 Can you write a fic where the reader finds out about everything that happened between Five & Lila and then she gets taken away by one of the Fives at the deli and promising her that he’ll treat her better than OG Five (You can also add a part where OG Five finds out about this and lives to regret it)
a/n: AU where everything in that trash season was the same, except when five made the first jump in s1 he made it in his 32 yr old body bc i will not have y/n pull a zach justice (lmao)
even if lila did 😭😭
anyways basically everyone is the same age
i like to think of the five that comforts y/n as the five that explained everything to five in the last episode because that one literally felt like the five we were supposed to get, the five that was there all the first three seasons
sorry i cant stop trashing this season you guys 😭 i’m just so disappointed
summary: after breaking up with five, you make up with… well, five
part two
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“Leave me alone, Five!” You yelled in despair, pushing the man before you away, “Actually, first take me back home, you psycho! I have nothing to say to you!”
“Y/N, please, just hear me out!” Five tried to reason with you, as if anything he would say could make your heart glue itself back.
You were standing in the subway station after Five had blinked himself and you away from the family- or what was left of it, watching him at loss of words. You didn’t recognize the man before your eyes, as much as you tried. You didn’t even have time to gather all your thoughts since there was yet another impending apocalypse on its way, so your mind was completely all over the place.
Five Hargreeves was not the same Five Hargreeves you fell in love with all those years ago. He was not the same man who had stolen your heart and made you feel like you were the most precious person in the world. He wasn’t your partner anymore, he wasn’t your lover. Your boyfriend wasn’t there. You looked at this person and there was a stranger, acting as if he was the same who had hugged you, held your hand, kissed you all those many times. You were questioning everything about him now.
“Take me back!” You yelled again, ignoring his same pleas, curling your hand in a fist, “I’m this fucking close to making you ash!”
As your pure anger got the best of you, you were ready to let your powers take over for a second. Obviously you weren’t actually going to hurt him, no matter how much you wanted him to feel your pain, at least physically.
You met him six years ago, during the first time you tried to stop the apocalypse. You were also one of the extraordinary kids, but luckily enough, Reginald Hargreeves didn’t manage to adopt you- more so, purchase you. You only met Five not long after he managed to time travel back to his family in 2019 after spending all those decades by himself. Before you knew it, you were dragged into the Hargreeves family and your relationship soon after developed.
Your six year relationship that was so merry a few hours ago. Now it was crumbled, trashed.
What hurt was that it was six years only to you. Five managed to block himself seven years away from you, only in the presence of Lila.
“This is so fucking stupid,” You scoffed, fighting back the tears in your eyes, “It’s fucking over! Do you want me to spell it out for you?!”
“I want you to listen!” Five didn’t give up on arguing, “I thought I’d never see you again!”
“You didn’t want to see me again!” You screamed, wailing your hands in the air, “Fucking save it- It’s over! I don’t want to ever see you again if we survive this apocalypse! You ruined our relationship, you ruined your brother’s marriage, family! For fucking Lila!”
You hated him absolutely. The mere thought of his infidelity, of the nerve to act as if he still loved you, it was all despicable.
You grew to love all of your boyfriend’s siblings, and also your nieces and nephews, even if you and Five were not yet married. You planned to be a part of the family officially, but still wanted to focus on your careers, you wanted to adjust yourself to your old life, back to your origins.
“Y/N, please!” He tried to step, towards you, but you started stepping away.
Thoughtlessly, because of all your anger, you just walked towards the first train approaching you, fully intending to be away from him at whatever cost.
“If you don’t want to take me back, I’ll fucking find my own way!” You hopped onto the train, watching as he tried to catch up with you.
But he was too late.
In hindsight, maybe it was not the smartest idea, but you were just so devastated nothing made sense to you anymore. You spent the past six years thinking that you are set for the rest of your life, now that the world wasn’t ending anymore. You reconnected with your family, you built a career for yourself and were living happily with Five, you had literally just finished settling yourself in the new house you bought together. You couldn’t understand how he could do this to you.
You couldn’t understand how Lila could betray your friendship either, especially Diego and their kids.
You tried to make it make sense, be reasonable- it was only a few hours to you, but they were lost in this subway system for seven years.
But then again, Five was lost in the future 45 years by himself and he didn’t give up on trying to return to his family once.
Now he did, he gave up on trying to return to you.
That’s definitely another aspect that stung.
“Fucking piece of shit,” You mumbled, as the train approached its first station, “How do I fucking get out of here?”
You stumbled out of the sub, taking in your surroundings. It was yet another crumbled down station, but if you were to be at least a tiny bit fair, it was maybe a bit better kept. You looked around curiously, trying to figure out where to go from now on. Your fire-based superpowers were totally useless in this situation, so you hated to admit that you were in a bit of a pickle.
You rolled your eyes, as Five rounded the corner and stopped in his tracks, watching you with widened eyes.
“You again?” You sighed angrily, “Take me back or get out of my sight, Five.”
Five raised his brows, putting his hands in his pockets curiously. He didn’t say a word yet, as a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He slowly stepped towards you, not taking his eyes off you once. For a split second, you stopped as well, sending that something was up.
You took in his features, trying to make sense of what was going on, realizing that he didn’t have a coat on him. He was wearing the exact three piece suit an black tie, he was wearing the same silver watch on his left hand, but he didn’t have his coat on.
“Y/N,” He smiled, stopping in front of you, “I never thought I’d see you again, more so here.”
“What the fuck is going on?” You calmly asked, over-analyzing the man before you.
His smile didn’t drop. It was a genuine one, a smile you hadn’t seen in a while. Things between you and Five were okay a few hours ago, but he hadn’t watched you with this look since you first met. His eyes were sincere, taking in every single feature of yours, traveling all over your body.
“I take it your Five danced the devil’s tango with Lila,” He sighed deeply, raising a hand to gently brush away your tears.
When did you even start crying?
Your mind was scrambled all over the place, but at that exact moment you couldn’t say another word. You just melted into his touch, feeling warmth. It really hadn’t been that long since Five touched you, but this touch felt different. His hand rested on your cheek, as his thumb caressed you lightly. His touch was so intoxicatingly sweet, sending shivers down your spine.
“I’m so sorry I’m a literal shitface in some other timelines,” He lightly shook his head, “I’m so sorry.”
“What is going on?” You asked once again, calmer this time.
For whatever reason, you relaxed in an instant. You couldn’t tell if it was because of his gentle touch or simply his presence. Ironic, since just ten minutes ago you were ready to set him on fire.
“Come with me, my love,” Five said, grabbing your hand in his, “I’ll explain everything.”
You didn’t fight his touch, locking your fingers with his. None of you said a word, as you watched you hands fit so perfectly in one another. How could your relationship be over when you were so good together?
You followed Five through the subway station, rounding the same corner he appeared from. You watched as he turned his head to give you a reassuring smile, lightly squeezing your hand in comfort.
After a few more steps and going down a couple of stairs, you widened your eyes seeing a literal deli tucked away in this godforsaken out of order subway system. The headlights above the front entrance were lit up, writing Max’s Delicatessen. You saw inside a huddle of people as you entered, gathering everyone’s attention.
When they all turned to look at you, you literally couldn’t tell whether you or the huddle of people was more shocked.
They were all Fives.
There was music playing inside, as the deli was full of different versions of your boyfriend, whether they were customers sitting at the tables, drinking coffee or having a meal, reading the newspaper or having a chat. There were also other Fives working around, waiting tables or cooking in the back.
Nonetheless, they all stopped to look at you.
“Yeah, yeah, Y/N is here, carry on, you guys,” The Five that was holding your hand waved the others off with his free hand, “She needs a moment, stop being creeps.”
“I can’t tell if this is a dream come true or my worst nightmare,” You said, looking around the deli, as Five guided you towards an empty booth.
You sat down as the other picked up again whatever they were doing, still watching you with the corner of their eyes. Five took a seat in front of you, still holding onto your hand on top of the table, using his other hand to rub small circles on your skin.
“I am not the Five that dragged you here, in case you didn’t tell yet,” Five managed to say, “But I’m pretty sure that you did, since I know you’re smarter than he gives you credit for.”
“He did mention that this subway system is the knot to multiple timelines,” You sighed, as Waiter Five set down two cups of steaming coffee on the table.
You watched him curiously, as he looked yet again exactly like Five, wearing just a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, with a black tie, pantsuit pants and a server apron around the waist. He smiled at you warmly, setting down two small packs of sugar and a creamer.
“I’m sorry, my love, we don’t have any Irish Capuccinos around here, since you’re the first Y/N to set foot in here,” He apologetically smiled, “I can only get you a shot of whiskey, if you’d like.”
Of course they all knew your favorite coffee.
“Make it a bottle,” You said, cracking a smile for the first time, causing him to chuckle, before walking away to attend to your order.
“I can’t begin to explain how much I missed your smile, darling,” The Five before you said, as you turned back to him, “The Handler got to the Y/N in my timeline,” He added, as sadness took over his eyes, “I missed you so much.”
“I can’t understand how you’re the same Five that fell in love with Lila,” You said, before quickly adding, “I mean- technically, you’re not, but still.”
“Everyone around here is a different version of me, from a different timeline,” He said, “I’m one of the many that didn’t go down that road.”
“Thank you, I guess,” You laughed, making him smile again.
What a sweet smile it was.
“When I lost you, I was a total wreck,” He confessed, as you couldn’t help but place your other hand on top of his, “I love you so much, Y/N, I could never hurt you like that no matter what. This is all such a fucked up turn of events, but when I saw you coming out of that train, my mind froze.”
“I love you too, Five,” You said, “But I need to wrap my head around what is going on- Everything is insane, I mean I’m right now in the middle of yet another apocalypse, I just found out that you love Lila and there’s just so fucking many of you.”
“I know, my love, I know,” Five nodded, “I wouldn’t dare to ask you accept everything so fast, I know it’s a lot to take in.”
“Can you just… hold me?” You asked, watching as he didn’t waste another second and got up to slide ne t yo you in the booth.
Wrapping one arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest, he used his other one to caress your hair. You nuzzled your face into his shirt, taking in his scent, as you felt a wave of certitude wash over you. Five held you tightly into his arms, embracing you after years of your absence. He was grateful to have you in his arms once again.
And he was not about to let go anytime soon.
“I’ll always hold you, my love,” Five muttered, peppering small kisses in your hair.
The Five from your timeline watched from behind the window as you took comfort in his arms, but not exactly his arms.
This was only the beginning of his lifelong regret.
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eggyrocks · 7 months
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☆ on repeat ☆ t. kageyama smau
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⋆。°✩in which yn just got out of a bad breakup, and the only thing helping her is this one song on repeat ⋆。°✩
main masterlist
tags: tobio kageyama x f!reader, university au, strangers to friends to lovers
warnings: foul language, gross jokes, sexual jokes, conflict, violence, cringe; everyone probably will be out of character, please note warnings may change as story progresses, and to check each chapter for individual warnings
rules: blank blogs will be blocked !! minors dni
taglist: closed
[ignore all time stamps]
status: complete
pinterest board by @garden-of-bri
yn style guide
introductions: oh my god they were roommates | roommates to lovers
part one: is she hot part two: body shots [✐] part three: pathetic men part four: girl time part five: blood oath part six: breakfast part seven: bed bugs part eight: my bisexual prince part nine: linked up part ten: tsukkinoyahinyamyn [✐] part eleven: something shifted part twelve: a bet part thirteen: weird and serious part fourteen: antonios part fifteen: bothered. unmoisturized. anxious. part sixteen: toothpaste and iodine [✐] part seventeen: okay i love you part eighteen: mini epilogue
daily click for palestine 🇵🇸
moodboard/description for on repeat from @causenessus
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"the actual definition of domesticity. just pure love. definitely love languages are in this aesthetic. i'm getting a lot of gift giving vibes. BUT AGAIN DOMESTICITY!! just kageyama being in love and a sucker for y/n. he's behind her at every moment in case she needs anything, holding her bags for her and always there to be a scary guard dog to anyone looking despite being a sweetheart and melting the moment y/n is looking at him or asking something. the kind of people who would both come up to a grandma and help her cross the street or carry things for her <3 they're happy as long as they're together. they remind me of this one video i've had saved for years in my phones that goes along the lines of "when you're a kid you think your parents are soulmates. my kids are going to be right about that." (ik that isn't always applicabale to family dynamics like i would rather die than have kids but i personally think it's even more impactful thinking about it as "my parents were so messed up but i'm going to meet my soulmate. i'm going to be with someone that people see us together and think that we're soulmates. i'm going to find someone that loves me.") songs that come to mind are the cuco's wannabewithu and songs4u albums but also work song simply bc of how lovesick it is and loverboy"
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himbosandhardwear · 2 months
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Steddie I Different First Meeting I NSFW I Public Indecency I 2.8k words
He's planted. Call him The White Tree of Gondor, he's so planted. Nothing and no one could move him from this spot.
He's going to have perfect line of sight to center stage, as long as no one over 6’3” stands in front of him. He's got his good boots on, giving him a solid three inch lift.
Some people come and go, not as dedicated to keeping their spot. Not Eddie. He's planted.
“You think he moved back?” Some chick yells behind him.
“Doubt it,” her companion yells back, “the point was to get closer.”
“Well I don't know if I can deal with closer. It's only going to get worse when the band goes on, and I'm at my limit for men touching me today.”
“I'm pretty sure there's beer in my hair.”
“A fate worse than death,” she mocks him, making Eddie chuckle. “You wanna bail? He can come find us after.”
“I don't know, Rob, he's just a kid. What if he gets scared?”
“Oh my god, he's sixteen.”
“He's short!” The guy yells shrilly, practically in Eddie's ear. “No way he can see over top everyone's head.”
“Okay, then you stay, dingus. I'm going to go pay $12 for a bottle of water. Come find me after.”
“Rob! C'mon, don't- Rob! Ah shit.”
Eddie almost turns to give the guy some reassurance but he can't, making friends in the crowd is how you end up getting pulled into another direction. He can't chance it. He's planted.
Not to mention his friend was right, the more time that passes, the more packed in they become. Once or twice the guy behind him gets jostled into Eddie's back, mumbling apologies each time. Eddie doesn't bother to reply.
He's determined to ignore the guy until suddenly they're pressed front to back, shoulder to calf, the guys massive hands wrapping solidly around Eddie's waist so they don't fall down, and he's fucked. Suddenly the guy behind him is all he's thinking about.
Of course this turn of events sends the poor guy into apology overdrive, hands ripped back immediately as he stutters his excuses.
Eddie waves it off, still not turning away from the front, but the urge is strong. He kind of needs to see if the guy is as hot as that ten second press against him would suggest. Christ on a bike, he even smells good. At least Eddie is pretty sure that's him, the pine/sugar/sweat combo.
A glance at his watch tells him they've got maybe another ten minutes until the show starts. Five minutes ago that would've been all he would've cared about but now he's got Hot Boy Brain Rot and can't focus.
Which is why the next time they get pushed together, Eddie does absolutely nothing to help correct, he lets the guy pull him back and very nearly fall flat on their asses. The only reason they don't is because they fall into the people pressing forward.
“I swear to god, I'm not doing this on purpose,” the guy says with a chuckle that warms Eddie’s already sweaty skin. He hasn't let go yet, his enormous hands hold Eddie upright, skin on skin where his shirt has been cropped.
He's lost his mind completely, because he puts his own hands on the ones circling his waist and squeeze, a soft acceptance of their predicament. It could mean nothing if the guy is straight - maybe, probably, he's not good at judging that sort of thing - but if the hot guy standing behind him is in any way interested, he'll understand.
And praise Dale, raise hell, he does! Long fingers tighten, slide, tighten, before letting go again. He's pretty sure the guy just stuck his thumbs into the indents at the top of his ass too.
Which is when he realizes there's a not zero percent chance the guy thinks Eddie is a girl.
He forgot he's wearing a kilt, which idiots seem to think is a skirt 70% of the time he has it on. Combining that with his hair being down and the fact that he hasn't turned around at all… Fuck.
You're 6’2” right now. Maybe that's enough of a hint. Or your hairy legs? No, it's way too dark to see that far down, no way he-
Eddie squeaks as the guy runs a finger tip along the edge of the kilt. Luckily, it's too loud for the sound to travel, that would've been devastating.
The guy leans forward and whisper/yells, “Is this okay?” into his ear.
Eddie nods, takes a miniscule step back, bringing himself closer. He's gonna take this as far as he can before they either get kicked out for indecent acts or the guy realizes what he's doing and bashes Eddie for ‘tricking him.’ The smart thing to do would be to fucking turn around and confirm his stupid gender but… it's nice feeling wanted for a moment. Nice enough for whatever the consequences are.
An arm snakes around his middle, a fucking nice arm, all sinewy and freckled and brown, causing a surge of giddiness. They're pressed together again, this time on purpose. The guy seems to instinctively know Eddie has this spot picked out because he doesn't let anyone push them or get between. He does, however, laugh every time they get jostled closer together. It's infectious too, makes him smile along every time he hears that giggle. If the guy doesn't stop being adorable soon, Eddie is gonna fall in love.
Whoops. Too late. There's an enormous cock pressed up against his ass; any semblance of control or ability to play it cool goes right out the window.
He's never been more proud of himself for taking up street hockey with Jeff and his cousins than this moment. Some asshole had said to him, years ago now, ‘No one wants a bottom with a flat ass,’ and Eddie let that settle into a deep seated neurosis that pushed him into sports. Casual sports, that actually turned out to be pretty fun, but still…
Anyway, he's got an ass worth pushing against now, which is doing fantastic things for the whole ‘accidently luring a stranger into simulating sex acts at a concert' thing he's got going on.
Good god are they playing with fire right now. Yeah everyone is distracted by the drum tech setting up but it's not like they're invisible here. The guy to Eddie's left is just as close as the one rubbing off against his ass, if he glances down he's gonna see what they're doing. That thought only brings Eddie closer to finishing, untouched, in his underwear. His own erection is being held down by his boxer briefs, which are always a good choice when wearing a kilt. Shit happens in the pit, he's never been keen on flashing his bare ass to everyone if he takes a header.
He's snaking a hand down, trying to be subtle, but he needs to squeeze his dick or he's going to start crying.
His new friend must catch the movement because his right hand follows the trajectory, sliding right along with Eddie’s, until they're both stalled out, cuping his hip instead of his erection. Eddie thinks about passing out, he's so turned on and terrified. Either the guy knows he's about to touch a human penis or he's about to get an unwelcome surprise.
Before Eddie's heart can explode and kill him, three things happen rapid fire:
The lights go completely dark, signifying the start of the show, which makes the already packed stadium lose its collective shit.
Then there's a call from behind, the dreaded, “Heads up!” Eddie only just manages not to burst into tears as his one true love has to let go to support the weight of the asshole crowd surfing above them. He makes sure to pinch the fucker as he takes the weight of his stupid leg as it goes by.
Then, immediately after, there's another crowd surge as the first lick of Blackened rings out around them. Adrenaline pumps through Eddie like a lava flow, two desires waring within him making it impossible to choose. Does he turn to find the man of his dreams or does he stay the course and watch the greatest metal show of all time?
Considering this is the third time he's seen Metallica live, he turns around.
He's gone. The only people behind him now are two chicks with their tits painted white and gold and a middle aged biker.
Awesome.
He keeps looking but no one near fits the right description, not even close. Why the fuck didn't he turn around and just look at the guy? At least then he'd know who to look for after the show.
It's not like his night is completely ruined or anything. He jumps in the closest pit and takes his disappointment on the poor bastards unlucky enough to crash into him, and he has a splendid time with that. It wasn't his original plan, he wanted to stay center stage and actually watch the show this time, but he's too keyed up to stand still now, better to shove his fellow man and get elbowed for his troubles.
By the time James is wailing out the final insane notes of Battery, Eddie is thoroughly beat. It's a slog getting to the back of the stadium but he's determined to beat the crowd to the pissers. The night was fun and all but he's ready to go. Ready to stick his hand down his pants(kilt), relive the oddest and hottest encounter he's ever experienced, and then forget it ever happened.
He's made it as far as the merch line when a familiar voice yells his name. He looks back and sure enough, Dustin Henderson is waving at him like a semaphore code operator. Goofy ass kid, Eddie loves him to death.
“What the hell are you doing here?” He asks after giving him a back slapping hug.
“Surprise early birthday gift, I didn't know until yesterday or I would've told you.” His whole body is thrumming with excitement. It must be his first metal show. You wouldn't know it to look at him, he's got a whole mini-Eddie thing happening, which is adorable.
“That's awesome, dude. You didn't want to stay till the end?”
“I already saw their setlist and calculated the timing just right to get in line before the crowd let out.” Of course he did. “What about you? Taking off?”
“Yeah, I've had…a weird night. Good but weird.”
“You wanna ditch in line? Looks like they still have plenty of T-shirts available.”
He laughs. “Nah, thanks though. I'm just gonna head home. I'll see you Saturday?”
“Totally, wouldn't miss it-”
“There you are! Jesus, Henderson, I thought I lost you. Your mom would kill me if something-”
The guy finally stops bitching but only because he's staring at Eddie like he's seen a ghost.
“Uhh,” Eddie drawls, confused.
“Steve! This is Eddie! You know, from Hellfire, at Tech.”
It would be appropriate for them to shake hands, he thinks, but the guy is just staring at him, going more and more red as the seconds pass. It's a good thing he's pretty because his social skills could use some work.
“Hey dingus, did the beer in your hair finally soak into your brain.” The woman standing to Steve's left knocks on his forehead with a knuckle, making him flinch.
“You guys okay?”
Eddie is too busy being strapped into a roller coaster of emotion to respond to Henderson’s quiry. It can't be this easy, fate has never been this kind or cruel to Eddie, not at the same time. His dream man can't be Dustin's babysitter/big brother Steve. That guy drives a BMW and listens to Supertramp, which he only knows because he followed Dustin out to the parking lot one night. Except, Steve is gorgeous and fun and a good dude who worries about his kids, and is smoking hot.
He knows Steve knows he knows now, his own face has gone beet red, and they're just staring at each other, like some kind of gorgon in a bathroom mirror situation.
“What is this? Why are you being weird?” Steve's girlfriend - Rob? - asks. “Wait, oh my god, is Dustin’s other dad, your imagined arch nemesis, the Guy in the Crowd? Holy shit, he totally is, what are the fucking odds!” She cackles.
Wait. He told her about that? And he knew I'm a guy? And he thought we were nemesis? That's so hot.
Dustin is going on about Steve's apparent low self esteem and how Steve needn't worry about his loyalty and how he loves them both equally, which is sweet, but he and Steve are still just staring at each other.
“I know a good diner around here,” he blurts out when Dustin finally shuts up. “They have all you can eat pancakes.”
Steve's eyes do something devastating, adjacent to cows touching grass for the first time. “I like pancakes.”
“Let's get pancakes.”
“Okay.”
They start walking away, dazed, until Dustin reminds them of his presence, loudly and with much insult. “Steve! You drove us here!”
“Shit.” He turns back. “Right. Sorry. C'mon, we're getting pancakes.”
Dustin looks to Rob, as if to say, ‘What the fuck is going on?’ She replies back with a sort of ‘I don't get paid enough to explain this to children’ and ‘I know, he's hopeless but we love him’ both kinda look.
“What?” Steve asks.
“I'm still in line, dude. I want a T-shirt.”
“But-”
“No buts!” Dustin screeches. “Pancakes can wait!”
Eddie wishes they would figure it out soon, he still has to piss.
Rob, bless her, she's Eddie's new best friend, takes Dustin under her arm and asks Eddie, “Where's the diner?”
“25th and Dudley Ave. Called Roxy's.”
“Got it. Go on, I'll bring your son after he's got his stupid shirt.”
Dustin is the epitome of disbelief. “What! No! Guys, don't leave me with Robin!” He yells, to which Robin responds by putting him in a headlock.
“Go! Run before he figures out what's going on.”
Steve doesn't need to be told twice, apparently, he grabs Eddie's wrist and yanks him toward the exit doors. It’s exciting, running away with Steve, even though they’re only running from Dustin. Still, it leaves them both breathless by the time they get to the end of the block, both laughing about how ridiculous it all is.
“God. Haven't run like that since…well the last time the cops were after me.”
Steve just grins, hands on his knees, looking like a former athlete, all deep breaths and physical therapy style stretching. Fucking hot jocks, ugh.
Eddie wants to mount him.
Which brings them up to the awkward part: acknowledging what happened.
Steve braves it first. “Hey, I, uh, I don't want you to think I go around doing shit like that.”
Eddie, ever the opportunistic asshole, says, “Shit like what?” When Steve's face falls to horror, perfectly timed, and Eddie loses it. “I'm kidding, sorry, I'm just fucking with you. It was definitely me.”
“Dick,” Steve says but he's laughing.
“Yeah, that's me.” They sort of instinctively move away from the street, closer to the less busy side storefronts. “In the interest of honesty, I should tell you, I wasn't entirely sure you knew I wasn't a girl, that's why I sort of hesitated right there at the end, before we got separated.”
Steve looks baffled. “Huh?”
“You know.” He waves at himself. “From the back I could be a tall chick. Cause of the kilt and the hair and everything.”
He shakes his head. “Dude, I saw you from like four rows back. Why do you think I stopped where I did?”
Fuck. Okay. That's…awesome. He jams a whole fistful of hair against his face.
“Also, even if you had turned out to be a tall chick, not a deal breaker. You're fucking hot either way.”
“Okay, Romeo, cool it with the compliments before I make you finish what you started right here.”
Jesus tap-dancing Christ, that smirk should be illegal.
“Right here against the jewelry shop window? I'm not opposed.” Eddie very seriously considers the pros and cons of that but before he finishes, Steve laughs. “Better not. I was promised pancakes. And Lord have mercy if Rob and Henderson get there before we do.”
He's right. God dammit.
“Fine but for the record, which I feel goes without saying, I do put out on the first date.”
Steve laughs. “Never would've guessed.”
By the time they get to Roxy's, Steve has his arm around Eddie's waist, pinkie tucked deep into his kilt.
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literaila · 8 months
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three things
gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: a fun trip to the grocery store (how do you raise children?)
warnings: a bit of anxiety, a bit too much of gojo
last part | next part
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*
year one.
"no, satoru." 
how many times have you said that today? 
how many times has satoru pouted--like he's doing right now--and put back whatever he'd plucked off the shelf, grumbling something about how you hated him or you weren't his mom or how he was the one buying everything? 
oh, too many times to count. you stopped after five. 
megumi rolls his eyes with you, already familiar with this routine, looking at everything in the cart again with the same analytical eye he's had since you all walked into the store. you're pretty sure he's counting the total cost.
it might be cute--the way his frown deepens just a little bit after each new item is added--if it didn't worry you completely. 
because it's the first time you've taken the two of them to the store, and the first time you're trying to recall everything their eyes trail over, the things they want but neither of them will say.
you're trying to remember yourself as a kid--if you begged your parents for anything you could possibly want, or if you stood there and stared longingly. but your childhood has always been a dull memory you keep hidden in the attic of your mind. 
so you're not sure what to expect. 
because neither of them has asked for much, since the first night. tsumiki requested a notebook she could draw in, and megumi asked if you could get gojo to stop talking to him. 
the first which you did immediately, even letting gojo get her some expensive pencils to draw with, the second which you... tried. 
it hasn't been easy, the past few days. settling two kids into a dysfunctional house didn't exactly fit into your schedule for the week. 
"why not?" satoru demands, walking right along slide you, pushing the cart because you'd forced him to. "we need dessert." 
"there are seven different types of dessert already in there. i'm hiding at least three of those, by the way." 
"i'll find them," satoru grins mischievously, but waves a hand. "we've got two extra people in the house now. i'm not just shopping for me. do you want them to starve?" 
you roll your eyes, again. then pull on his hair, which he squeaks at. "you're only shopping for you. i've seen your pantries, you know. and i lived with you for three years. we all saw your grocery lists." 
satoru is about to say something, but tsumiki giggles. maybe at the stupid way his face looks. 
the way he's almost smiling, even in denial. how his eyes show from just behind his glasses, his brows moving like a separate entity on his face. 
you haven't really talked to him, the past couple of days. nothing beyond a question about megumi's technique, or where the two of them went to school. 
how long will it take before you finally ask him--
you look over to tsumiki, shaking your head at satoru and smiling back. 
"megumi doesn't like sweets much," she adds to you, easily.
you add it to the mental list of things you know about them.
you look at the little boy, and he nods, looking straight ahead. his shoes catch on the ground every couple of steps like they don't fit right. 
satoru gasps like this is an outrage. because not drinking straight sugar is offensive to him. 
"what?" he asks, stopping all three of you so he can grab megumi by the shoulders. "were you cursed?" he inspects the boy carefully, peering over the glasses on his face.
megumi seems to sink back with each glance of his eyes, his face turning red. 
"cursed to deal with you, maybe," you tell him, pushing him away from megumi. the boy fixes his hair--which had been pushed over his eyes--and glares at satoru.
"he doesn't like sweets?" the man repeats, mouth open, glancing at all three of you like he's not sure that any of you are sane.
"you say that as if you don't eat enough for all four of us." 
"i need the calories," satoru whines, fluttering his eyelashes at you. you ignore him--and the funny way you feel about the gesture.
you look at both of the kids, observing the two of you closely, and give them a look. a look as in, he's crazy. 
megumi swallows. "i like dango." 
"great!" you nudge satoru to keep walking. "we'll get some." 
"that's it?" satoru prods. "what about--" 
you pinch his hip and shake your head, glaring at him when he pouts at you again. 
you step on his heels as you walk through the aisles, still watching the kids with sharp eyes, trying to figure out anything they might want. 
tsumiki murmurs something to megumi every once and a while, but beyond that, they only walk alongside you and satoru, stepping out of the way of any other adults that pass by. 
honestly, you might as well have taken them to the park. they don't even glance at any of the shelves--except when satoru pushes one of them away to grab something. at least at the park, they'd be getting some fresh air. 
after you sigh in--what? frustration? disappointment?--for the fourth time, satoru gives you a look, raising his brows. you shake your head. 
he nudges you with his shoulder but doesn't say anything. whistling while he sneaks more sugar into the cart. 
after the fifteenth minute of this, megumi falls in stride beside you and you look down at him. his eyes evade yours, focusing on the necklace you're wearing instead.
"um, i have to use the restroom," he says to you, soft and embarrassed. 
"okay," you place a hand on his back, gently turning him around, "i think it's just over here," you say, listening as satoru follows along idly. 
"me too," tsumiki says, trailing on your other side. 
the store is almost completely empty, so you tell the two of them that you'll wait right outside the door, and lean against the wall, watching the both of them disappear. 
satoru is already looking at you. 
"what?" you groan, glaring at the doors. 
"what what?" 
you sigh. his voice is annoying. "why are you looking at me?" 
satoru is too close for comfort, his arm brushing against yours--uncomfortably of course because he is the worst--without a care in the world. "what's up?" 
"what do you mean?" 
"why are you acting weird?" 
"i'm not acting weird," you look at him, frowning. 
he's wiping his glasses on his shirt--like he can actually see out of them--and looking at you quizzically. "oh, so you staring at tsumiki and megumi like they're a science experiment isn't weird?" 
you ignore him and his stupid blue eyes. 
"if i was doing that you'd push me down a flight of stairs, but okay..." 
you sigh again, rolling your eyes. and then again. and then you relent because satoru's silence will inevitably break you. "they haven't asked for anything," you say, almost whining to him. "you told them they could pick out whatever they want." 
satoru shrugs. "so they don't want anything." 
"everyone wants something, satoru. especially kids." 
"everyone?" 
"yes. i'd expect you to know better than anyone," he laughs but you frown. "it's a human trait." 
he smirks, leaning down towards you. "what do you want, then?" 
you scoff, flicking his forehead. "i want them to feel comfortable. and i want you to stop bugging megumi." 
"but he makes it so easy," satoru says, pretending to be innocent.
"you're the adult, here," you say, even though you don't really believe it--nor should you. "act like it." 
"all the kid does is scowl," satoru complains. "i'm just trying to make him comfortable." 
"by invading his space?" 
"you stare from far away, i stare from up close." 
"you antagonize." 
satoru grins, crossing his arms, very pleased with himself. he's silent again. 
the past year has almost made you forget that satoru knows you like this. he's always known how to keep you talking, how to read your face and your hesitant glances. 
it's not like time could make him forget. it's not like you've forgotten anything about him. 
"you aren't worried?" you ask, after a second. 
"about the kids?" 
"yes," you say, obviously, "that we're already messing something up." 
he gives you a dubious look. "it's been four days." 
and he's right. you can't expect to understand either one of them after seventy-two hours of merely knowing about their existence. but you don't know how to treat kids like these, because any mistake you make--anything you say--will inevitably come back to haunt you. 
"it's--" you shake your head. satoru doesn't worry about anything, so you don't even know why you're bringing it up. "it's like when you play with someone else's kid and feel like you're breaking some unspoken rule. except this time we're the ones making the rules. there's no one to tell us if we mess up." 
"i think megumi would tell us," satoru answers, almost sarcastically. 
"he's the kid, idiot," you groan. "he doesn't know." 
"rude," satoru is still grinning. "what could you have messed up, at this point? all you've been doing is asking them questions. that's pretty straightforward." 
"maybe it's too much, too fast." 
satoru snorts, shaking his head at you. "grocery shopping?" 
"everything." 
satoru raises a brow at you, watching as you deflate. you feel like each move you make takes a little more air out of you, and who's to say when you'll finally run out? 
how many mistakes do you have to make to finally get it right? 
and you know--and you know that he knows--that it's not just about them, but about you. is this too fast? is this too much?
satoru rests a hand on your head. "you're too in your head about this." 
"well, i have to do it for the both of us." 
he ignores that. "if they need something, they'll ask," the words are soft, genuine. he's completely sure like he always is. "you made it clear that we're just here to help. it's been four days." 
you sigh, nodding reluctantly. 
"we'll figure it out," he says, simply. "you don't need to worry about anything. i mean, i'm here, so..." 
you push his hand away, glaring. "megumi doesn't even talk to you." 
"hey, yes he does." 
"to call you a freak, maybe. or tell you to shut up." 
"don't be jealous of my relationship with megumi. we're bonding." 
you roll your eyes but find a laugh making its way out of you. 
he's always been good at this, too. making everything seem easy. 
when tsumiki comes out of the bathroom door, she smiles at the sight of the two of you still there--both talking animatedly, with similar glares in your eyes. she settles in beside satoru, copying him as she leans against the wall. 
"you think i'm great, don't you tsumiki?" satoru asks her, goading. 
she nods immediately. 
you snort and look away while tsumiki giggles when satoru leans down to smack a kiss on her cheek. 
something inside of you warms, just briefly. 
and then megumi comes out, rubbing his hands together. unlike tsumiki, he glares at satoru and chooses to stand beside you. 
"okay," satoru clasps his hands together. "are you both ready to go?" 
"um," you turn to him. "satoru we haven't--" 
megumi nods immediately, looking a bit brighter at the prospect, and tsumiki furrows her brows, questioning. 
"great! both of you pick out three things that you want and then we'll leave." 
megumi glowers. 
"three things?" you clear your throat. "they need more--" 
"three things," satoru repeats, looking right at megumi while he says it. some words pass non-verbally between the two of them. you might have to tell satoru not to talk to megumi about anything without you. "we'll get everything else we need." 
tsumiki runs alongside megumi and grabs his arm, which he allows, though you watch his eyes roll. 
"go on," satoru shoos them away, smiling all proudly. when they're gone, he turns to you again. "there. now you don't have to worry about picking something they like." 
and he reaches his hand to grab yours, as a simple habit. 
satoru has never tip-toed around the line of physical contact. even with shoko, even when she would push him off.
something passes between the two of you. holding his hand is familiar; egged on by four years of standing alongside him. 
you try not to flinch away from the contact. 
and, sure, satoru probably just lost both of them in the store, and you don't actually have everything else you need, or know what those things are, but he's smiling at you. 
he's trying to be reassuring. 
so you smile back and let him hold your hand. 
"we'll figure it out," he whispers to you, and you push the cart this time while the two of you try to find the children he just lost.
*
later that night--after forcing satoru to put away the groceries with the rest of you--megumi lets you sneak into his room with a (third) bag of candy that satoru grabbed last second, acting like you wouldn't notice. 
"where's the best hiding spot for this?" you ask him, looking around.
it's pretty doubtful that satoru would risk going into megumi's room just to look for it. and, you're sure, that megumi probably wouldn't let satoru open the door, nonetheless go through his things.
the boy points at his dresser and moves some clothes so you can hide it at the bottom of one of the drawers. he doesn't even question your motivations.
as you back out of the room again, you make him promise not to tell, and, for a single second, megumi smiles back at you, crossing his heart. 
*
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sayoneee · 7 months
Text
☆ BACK TO THE OLD HOUSE
percy jackson is a nuisance. a nuisance you have always been fond of, some way, somehow. (5.6k)
contains: percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite! reader. post tlo (spoilers). kind of melancholy but it gets better (kind of). book percy.
kashaf’s note: guess whos alive!
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TO QUESTION, to ponder, to seek out the gods is sacrilegious. the gods preferred their divinity to be kept strictly within the confines of worship — whether by completing their ‘menial’ tasks or by committing sacrifices, they, in their infinite wisdom, are not allowed to be objected to. 
“so, my mom’s a god? of love?” 
you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, and mentally counted to three. opening your eyes, you make eye contact with the newest addition to camp, and your newest responsibility. bruised and scuffed, the poor kid blinks back at you confusedly as you mull your options. “yes, and no,” you decide.
“our mom’s a goddess, and love is just the most common of her jurisdictions.” 
the new camper looks around the cabin, taking it in, you follow their gaze, lingering on the painted swans on the wall behind you, and bouncing to the pearls adorning the vanity, littered with various seashell trays holding gold jewelry (the first time you had entered these very walls, your throat had tightened at the pure ostentatiousness of it all).
they glance back at you, confused. you sighed again, “yes, our mom is the goddess of love.”
“oh.”
the candles residing in conches flicker as if waiting to pass judgment, and silence blankets you and the new camper once more (this is potentially your fiftieth time attempting to explain the same concept, yet you’re no better at it than when you first started — shaking and solemn). 
needless to say, it’s more than just difficult to explain this tacit rule to new campers — after whatever tragic event transpired for them to realize that the greek gods of myth and legend indeed exist, they simply don’t have the mental capacity to learn the unspoken rules of the whole being a demigod thing.
you could be warmer, somehow, you suppose, with your mother being the goddess of love and all — in all honesty, you’re still not sure how you became the aphrodite cabin counselor, over selina (the entirety of camp half-blood’s favorite daughter of aphrodite) but the counselorship would have ended up in your hands anyway, after everything (the sight of her once-beautiful face as she coughed up blood in clarisse’s lap swims across your memories). 
you pinched the bridge of your nose again, sighing as the candles snuffed out all at once of their own accord (judgment has been passed), “take the empty bed in the corner, we get up at like the ass crack of dawn so you might wanna catch up on your sleep.”
you watched the kid sit on the bed (looking every bit out of place as you did when you first arrived amidst the sheer indulgence the cabin is), and you can’t help but feel a pang in your chest as the child (the entire camp is full of children, but the vast majority of you have never gotten the chance to be the children that you are) stared wide-eyed at posters of movie stars, like tristan mclean, adorning the walls.
with one last glance and forlorn smile at the kid, you walked out of your cabin, your expression hardening at the sight of other campers. the walk to the arena is a short yet bleak one, in the silence you can hear drew’s screaming ringing in your ear (drew is preferable to hearing your other half-siblings, ethan, or even luke; drew is alive).
in the middle of the sword-fighting lesson being taught, you slipped into the arena, undetected for the most part except for the pair of sea-green eyes trained on your figure as you came and stood next to him, clearly hanging back.
“this is usually your shit, jackson,” you say, ignoring how pitiful your racing heart is, and watching clarisse at the helm, steam blowing out of her ears as new campers fell over themselves trying to parry and block with wooden swords.
percy turns to look at you, and from the corner of your eye, you can sense the storm brewing across his face. “maybe i’m not the attention whore you think i am,” he snorts, and there is a small trace of bile in his voice, but you don’t focus on that.
instead, your face burns at the memory of your last argument after you dove in front of ethan’s knife (you still wince when you remember the way his visible eye widened when he realized it was you who caught the blow), and percy’s bitterness as will patched you up, what the fuck is wrong with you, you could’ve gotten yourself killed.
and your weak but indignant reply, i literally saved your life, asshole. are you that much of an attention-whore that you need to be the one on their deathbed right now?
“i’d say you kind of are,” you say, turning to meet his gaze (for a brief, stupid, second you wonder if somehow he was a son of zeus because of how the air suddenly became charged with electricity), arms folding across your chest. “the whole making the gods pay child support is a bit attention-whore-esque.”
percy laughed, a sound you and the other campers haven’t heard in a while (it’s different from before but it is still a sound that in your weaker moments, you admit to craving to hear). “someone had to do it,” he says, sobering up immediately.
“luke tried,” you whispered (the name is still taboo around camp), shivering as you felt percy stiffen beside you. a beat passes and the resulting silence is suffocating.
percy offers you a sad, tight smile before walking out of the arena. you watch him go with a strange pain in your chest and a longing for the before, the laughter leaping across the sun-drenched strawberry fields, the joking i told you so’s during meals, and the softness of the campfire sing-a-longs.
it’s hard not to blame the gods, for that is blasphemy, but on most nights, you find yourself uttering your mother’s name with a tangible acidity, and you find that you’re not alone in this sentiment. the once-reverent echoes of aphrodite, promise me true love, promise me victory, promise me beauty, have now faded to lifeless whispers — formalities instead of prayers. 
even your own prayers are different now, you pray for the sea — if your mother is allowed to be ambiguous with her gifts (curses) then she must expect the same ambiguity in your prayers in return. when you’re done half-heartedly muttering your prayers and sacrificing your food, your gaze meets a familiar pair of sea-green eyes across the campfire, glowing like a beacon in the dark. 
standing up, you find drew, looking every bit as perfect as ever. you lean down to whisper, “lights out at eleven, i’ll be back.” 
drew nods, squeezing your hand before she begins herding the rest of your half-siblings back to your cabin, solemn and toneless (an empty shell compared to the once vibrant and snarky drew from before).
the walk to the beach is silent, although you know that you’re being followed — you didn’t survive the war being complacent. when you finally do arrive, the mysterious figure reveals himself in the moonlight (again, you’d be a fool to not recognize the son of poseidon’s careful footsteps).
percy looks every bit of a character straight out of a tragic romance novel that your mother probably inspired, and again your heart squeezes painfully at the sight of him — under the scars and the jaded attitude, he is still the same percy jackson with stars in his eyes when he first introduced you to his mother. 
“why do the naiads call you that?” percy asks abruptly, tilting his head to the side as if studying you as he approaches.
barely audible accusations of apatu’ria bubble at the surface of the lake like seafoam; the whispers have followed you since you arrived at camp, and you have never known why.
“call me what?” you ask, feigning ignorance as iterations of deceitful replay across your mind.
percy blinks, confused, “isn’t your mother related to the sea somehow? don’t you know they call you apatu’ria?”
you fiddle with the gold bracelet on your wrist (a gift from selina), percy’s gaze follows the movement as you hesitate. “well, yeah, like i know what it means but i don’t know why they call me that.”
percy shrugged, shoving his hands into the pocket of his jeans. “they call me ‘prosklystios’ a lot,” he said (in the way that he knows you, better than you know yourself).  
“so what, we’re just reduced to epithets of our parents? what an honor,” you mumbled sarcastically, staring out at the lake, watching its surface ripple as the accusations grew more fervent. you paid it no mind however, the burden of being a daughter of aphrodite had already claimed its weight on your shoulders. 
“careful,” percy sighed, his gaze focusing on you instead of the water, “might’ve just won a war but that won’t stop either of us from being smited if big guy in the sky thinks we’re being impertinent.”
distant thunder rumbled overhead as if proving his point.
“speak for yourself, pretty boy,” you say, eyes looking toward the firmament littered with stars, incognizant of your admission, “if i got the gods to basically pay child support without being sent to tartarus, i would do whatever the fuck i wanted.”
percy being percy, of course, did not register that last bit of your sentence, a shit-eating grin forming across his face, a slight red hue tinging his cheeks, “you think i’m pretty.”
you turn to look at him, ignoring how your heart hammers at the way he’s smiling down at you, you roll your eyes. “percy,” you say slowly. “my mom is the goddess of love, everyone’s gorgeous in her eyes.”
“yeah, but not everyone’s gorgeous in your eyes.” 
gods, he was so aggravating but the way his eyes twinkled and the genuine elation on his face almost made you admit defeat. 
you crossed your arms over your chest, narrowing your eyes at him, “this is why i never compliment you, you always let it go to your head.”
“aw, c’mon, you love me for it though,” percy says, still grinning widely, his unruly black hair falling into place perfectly.
“you’re an actual attention-whore,” you say, spinning around on your heels and trekking across the sand, leaving percy alone to stare out at the water. you walk back to camp, ignoring percy’s calls of wait punctuated by his laughter as he jogs up behind you. 
“i hope mr. d catches you out past curfew and the harpies eat you,” you say deadpan, once percy has caught up to you. 
“you’d miss me too much and would come to be my hero, again,” percy smirks at you, following along as you head toward aphrodite cabin (you’re secretly very glad for his presence, you hate walking around camp when it’s this deserted — the memories that you tried so desperately to bury try to claw their way to the surface).
“just because i caught a knife for you, once, does not mean that i’ll ever do it again,” you say, folding your arms across your chest as you stand outside the door of your cabin. “getting stabbed is not a ten out of ten experience.”
percy softens, his impish grin still there, but the intensity of his gaze is enough to make you melt, “good, can’t have you dying on me.”
you snorted, “even if i did die, i’d tell nico to raise my ghost so i could haunt you forever.”
percy’s still smiling, his eyes are still soft, and he’s so close to you right now. “go out with me,” he says, suddenly, earnestly.
blood rushes to your ears. “what?” you blinked, staring at him as if he’d grown another head.
percy shrugged, leaning forward to press a feather-light kiss to the crown of your head. you barely registered the action in your mind, trying to regain your ability to form coherent sentences as you watched him. percy looked away from your questioning gaze. “better go before the harpies eat me,” he said before jogging in the direction of his cabin. 
he leaves you standing in front of your cabin door, frozen in shock for another five minutes, before you shake it off, and head inside, convincing yourself that you had imagined the entire encounter. the familiar scent of jasmine envelops you as you linger in the doorway. drew is still awake on her bed, her back pressed against the wall and her head in her arms. she doesn’t bother to look up at your entry until you’re sat next to her, curling an arm around her bony shoulders and pulling her into an embrace. 
the two of you sit in silence as drew attempts to calm her heartbeats to sync with yours, her head resting on your shoulder as you rub soothing circles into the planes of her shoulder. you fall asleep in a tangled mess of limbs, a desperate attempt to close the gaping hole selina left in her wake. this is sisterhood, you think when you wake up and drew’s head weighs like lead on your shoulder.
the bright morning does little to assuage your burdens — you know it’s going to be a long day as soon as you hear campers giggling. rule number one of being a camp counselor: no matter how benign, giggling is the number one sign of trouble.
you took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before turning to the younger half of your half-siblings currently in the process of attempting arts and crafts. “what the fuck do you guys keep giggling about?”
your half-siblings only giggle harder. 
after what seemed like eons, the new camper finally comes up to you — a kid no older than eight, who motions for you to bend down before they begin stage-whispering in your ear, “is percy jackson your boyfriend?”
you immediately feel scandalized, jerking away like you’ve been burned, “no, who said that?”
(when you’re being lulled to sleep by the sound of drew’s imperceptible snoring in your ear, your subconscious spends its time lingering, dwelling on could’ve been’s, and should’ve been’s, the obsession as stubborn as when you refused to believe that percy had actually died on mount st helens.)
the kid continues to smile ‘innocently’, “everyone says that you guys hold hands at campfires.”
sudden flashes of percy’s unyielding grip on your hand and his broad smile, as he forced you into a sing-a-long with him, rise to the forefront of your mind, but that was before — when annabeth still had a steely look in her eyes, when travis and connor’s antics still garnered laughs from everyone (and a rare amused glance from mr. d). now (the after), there is no such jocularity, and percy is kept at arm’s length, reduced to offering you sad smiles across the campfire.
“we do not hold hands at campfires,” you say, struggling to keep the disdain out of your voice.
“but there’s a ‘we’,” the kid says, scrutinizing you up and down.
you have to mentally count to three so that you don’t end up arguing with a literal child (it’s not a great way to prove that your sanctity is still intact). “there’s no we.”
the kid shrugs in an if you say so gesture, giving you one last weirdly knowing look before turning back to their arts and crafts. a weighty silence settles, punctuated only by the sounds of scissors and rustling papers. 
stares and loud whispers follow you around camp, more so than usual for an aphrodite kid — clarisse finds you in the midst of it all, lost in thought when her cabin is supposed to be pulverizing apollo cabin at volleyball, a sharp glint in her eye. 
“you’d tell if me you were dating prissy, right?” she says, her hand faintly closing around your elbow, pulling you out of your reverie. 
“what are you talking about?” you say, eyebrows raising in shock. this wasn’t your first rodeo — just before the war this summer, camp gossip had credited you to be going out with connor stoll, but this was different. clarisse was the fifth person today who had asked you if you were dating percy. 
“so you are dating him?” clarisse looks offended, or well, as offended as clarisse can be, “and you didn’t tell me.”
you can feel eyes on you, watching your every move as other campers subtly pause their activities to listen in. 
“clarisse,” you say slowly, reaching out to hold her forearms and looking her in the eye, “i’m not dating percy.” when she opens her mouth to interrupt, you add, “and i would definitely tell you if i was.”
clarisse exhales, shooting you a disbelieving look, but mercifully leaving you alone with a quiet, “okay.”
you know what she’s thinking, so you offer her a taut smile, patting her on her shoulder as you brush past her. you headed toward the lake, with a feeling that you’d find the answers you were searching for.
the lake is empty except for one solitary figure on the sand, facing the horizon with his hands in his pockets. you hang back for a minute or two, taking in the sight of percy with his eyes closed, and the peaceful look on his face. 
a grin settled across his face as he addressed you, his eyes still closed, “i know you think i’m pretty, you don’t have to stare to prove it.”
you ignored his words, and he opened his eyes to watch you angrily march across the sand to stand face to face with him. 
“are you the reason why everyone thinks we’re seeing each other?”
“yeah, why?”
to say that you’re taken aback is an understatement — you had anticipated some more denial but this was unexpected. and sudden.  
you jab a finger at his chest, “everyone’s getting the wrong idea, so you need to stop whatever it is you’re doing like right now.”
“but they could have the right idea,” percy says, looking amused.
your heart scrapes painfully against your chest, “what the fuck are you talking about?”
“we could be dating, for real,” percy says, excruciatingly slow, elongating each word. 
the earth stops spinning on its axis for a minute, and time seems to freeze — for a split second you worry kronos has risen again before you calm your racing heartbeat and exhale slowly.
“i need you to be so for real right now,” you say, your eyebrows furrowing.
“i’m being so deadass right now.” 
“no, you’re not,” you say, turning and walking away. your heart squeezes pitifully in your chest, as you call out, “find me when you stop joking,” before leaving him alone on the shore.
when percy approaches you again, you think he’s finally come back to his senses, though a weaker, more primitive urge inside you hopes that he hasn’t (it’s for the better, you try and fail to convince yourself).
he interrupts your conversation with drew (though the two of you weren’t doing much talking), smiling charmingly at her before asking if he could steal you away for a minute during breakfast. drew shot you a concerned look, waiting for your reassuring smile before assenting.
“you’ve come to your senses?” you ask after percy leads you away from the mess hall.
“i’ve always had my senses, thank you very much,” percy grins.
you roll your eyes, trying not to smile, “oh yeah, i could totally tell when you played rock, paper, scissors with a hundred-handed one last summer.”
“hey,” percy says, throwing his hands up in the air defensively, “i won that one.”
“on a gamble,” you countered, smiling (you missed this, missed him, and the feeling that everything will be alright enduring).
“not the point.”
“then what is?”
“go out with me,” he repeats, sudden, and earnest.
your heart stuttered pitifully. “not this again,” you sighed.
“why not?” 
“why?”
“you know why,” percy tries to make eye contact with you. still, you avoid his gaze, watching the other campers heading into the mess hall give the two of you weird looks. 
“no, i don’t,” you say firmly, before walking away, ignoring his protests, leaving behind a group of onlookers that you could care less about, and percy, who was staring at the spot you had just been standing in.
you returned to your cabin, to the familiar jasmine scent and pearl adornments, and promptly collapsed on your bed. more than anything, you just wanted your mother. you wanted your mother to smooth out your hair as you cried, offer you advice, and get rid of the stupid curse.
the door opens quietly and you immediately sit up, dabbing at your face and hoping that your eyes haven’t turned red and swollen already. drew shut the door gently behind her, her expression softening the slightest fraction at the sight of you.
“do i look that bad?” you ask, trying not to sniffle (and failing miserably).
a whirlwind of emotions cross drew’s face and you manage a watery grin. “okay, y’know what, don’t tell me then.”
drew sits next to you on the bed, handing you a box of tissues, “wasn’t planning to.” 
the two of you sit shoulder to shoulder as she lets you have a minute to clean up before going straight for the jugular. “i heard what happened.”
you laughed, a choking noise that dissolved into weak coughing. drew patted your back. “so, the entire camp knows now?”
“no,” she says, before changing her mind, “well, yeah.” 
“great,” you groaned, “my life is so over.”
drew tensed, tearing her gaze from the posters of hot people on the wall, to look at you, her brown eyes ablaze with fury and her silver earrings (also a gift from silena) jangle, “shut up, you’re the senior counselor of aphrodite cabin, and they’re all losers unworthy of your time. your life so isn’t over.”
(this is the drew from before, the drew that comes and goes in flashes so sudden that you try to piece her together like a puzzle that never seems to connect.)
“the curse,” you say, your throat tight. 
drew’s eyes widen imperceptibly, her blue eyeshadow sparkling in the candlelit cabin, before her expression settles into a scowl. “what about the gift?” her voice sharpens as she stresses the last word, sparing the smallest glance toward the roof of the cabin.
you can’t continue, and you don’t have to — she knows what it is that you’re thinking of (she always has, from the minute you met her, two cold and shaking children alone in the dark).
she shakes her head emphatically. “silena,” her voice chokes, before dropping to a whisper, “silena left us — you can’t leave us too.”
“i know,” you whisper back, your eyes filling with tears. “i know.”
“oh, honey,” drew says sympathetically, drawing you into her arms, and smoothing your hair away from your face as you let out a sob against her shoulder. “break his heart,” she says. 
“i can’t,” you mumble.
“you have to. he’ll die if you don’t, and a broken heart is better than dying.”
“i can’t do that to him, he’s so unbelievably good, drew, he deserves everything and more.”
“ignoring how ridiculously sappy that sounded, look at what happened to beckendorf,” you pretend not to notice how drew stumbles through his name (he looked at silena as if she had personally hung the stars in the night sky), “maybe he wouldn’t have gotten over it, but he would’ve been alive.”
you remember how silena had proudly said she was going to put an end to the archaic rite of passage your cabin was infamous for around camp; beautiful, idealistic silena with stars in her eyes (who liked beckendorf to the point she’d blush profusely at the mention of his name), who had no idea that this would all come crashing down around her some short months later. 
at your silence, drew continues, still stroking your hair, “look, not to make this harder, but even i’ll admit jackson’s one of those guys you meet once in a lifetime—”
“thanks, drew, that was really helpful,” you interrupt, chuckling dryly.
“oh, shut up, i had a point,” drew says, swatting your shoulder playfully.
you sigh, letting her continue.
“so, like i was saying before i was so rudely interrupted, because jackson’s one of those once-in-a-lifetime type of guys—” here, you coughed pointedly, making drew glare at you before continuing, “—you should be like more willing to see him happy and like living a long ass life because you’re so in love with him.”
“so what, either i reject him and ruin our friendship irreversibly or we date and i break his heart and ruin our friendship irreversibly, or we date and i don’t break his heart and he dies tragically and there’s a possibility that i die tragically too?”
drew shrugged, making a tiny braid in your hair, “pretty much.”
you turned your head in her lap to look her in the eye, “how are you so apathetic about this?”
“someone has to be because you’re not thinking this through rationally.”
you groaned, “aphrodite has to hate us.” (you haven’t called her ‘mom’ genuinely except to her face during the winter solstices.)
“no, she lives for this kind of thing,” drew rolled her eyes, braiding another piece of your hair, “she definitely thinks she’s doing us a favor.”
you groaned again, “what if i just avoid him until summer ends and he goes back to school and forgets this happened.”
“i didn’t think love made you this stupid,” drew says, amused.
“shut up, i can’t wait until you have the same dilemma, and you’re the one asking for advice.”
“doubt it,” drew says, wryly.
you rolled your eyes, “okay, but what if i tell him about the ‘gift’,” you make air-quotes, “and let him decide?”
“yeah, but what if that just makes it backfire and makes you die tragically either way.”
“well, at least he’ll know about the possibility? it’s better than just being like ‘oh i can’t date you even though i’ve liked you since i was twelve’ with like zero explanation whatsoever.”
you hear muffled footsteps coming from outside of the cabin, and the door swings open loudly to admit lacy, who looks flustered and out of breath. you and drew quickly sprang up off your bed at her arrival.
“your boyfriend’s asking for you,” she says, looking at you.
drew raises her eyebrows at you, an unspoken are you going to see him? behind it. 
you furrowed your eyebrows back at her, conveying no, shut up.
drew shrugged at you as if saying if you say so.
lacy looks between the two of you, confusion apparent before cautiously interrupting, “he’s waiting outside, by the way.”
you panicked at the thought of possibly confronting percy, “lacy, whatever you do, don’t tell him i’m in here.” you paused, “wait, tell him i’m taking a nap or something, please.”
more shuffling noises can be heard from outside, and drew groans, smacking her forehead with her palm, “what is wrong with you?”
you ignored her, focusing on lacy, whose confusion intensified as she looked between the two of you. “tell him i’m sleeping and he should try coming back later.”
she nodded, before opening the door and stepping outside.
drew stared at you, “y’know, i thought people were exaggerating when they said love makes you stupid but after looking at you, they were so right.”
you scowled at drew. she raised her arms in surrender, “just calling it like i see it.”
lacy returned a second later, “um, he wasn’t outside when i went to tell him.”
that was decidedly odd, but you chalked it up to him being busy or something, and shrugged, “i’ll see him later, it’s fine.”
it was actually not fine, because you didn’t see him later. or the next day. or the day after. well, you saw him but you didn’t see him. percy had somehow uncovered a hidden talent for making himself appear everywhere and nowhere all at once. he was there at meals, laughing with tyson or grover, he was at sword fighting practices, leading the class or giving clarisse a partner, he was at campfires, sitting next to annabeth and connor. yet, the minute you tried to approach him, it was almost as if he’d vanish, like an immortal was running interference.
you’ve taken to wandering by the lake on most nights — your only company the voices of silena (go talk to him, her urging is as present as if she was really there, memories of the time the two of you hadn’t been talking for a week resurging) and luke (what’re you doing out this late, kid? a phantom hand reaching out to ruffle your hair, and the feeling of ice being poured down your back envelops you). 
as the sun sets, the tall and lanky figure — a figure you could recognize on the darkest nights — stands overlooking the lake in true jay gatsby fashion, his hands dug deep into the pockets of his baggy jeans. you stop and stare for a second (maybe a minute, an hour, time has truly escaped you), and suddenly you’re small and shivering in the dark again. 
percy doesn’t look at you when you approach, though he fidgets with his camp necklace. 
“hi,” you say, unsure of where to begin. 
percy sighs, “look, if you’re here to ask for space, i get it, i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable the other day.” he doesn’t turn to look at you or even glance at you through the corner of his eye once. 
“what?” you ask. “what are you talking about?”
“trust me, i get it, you don’t have to try to spare my feelings,” percy says. you want to will him to spare you just a glance. still, he avoids your gaze, focused on the horizon before you. “we’ve been friends for so long, i thought you could be honest with me.”
his words, though not said harshly (percy isn’t capable of being harsh, not to you at least) cut through you like a knife. 
“you heard me when i was talking to lacy, then,” you say, with horror as the realization dawns on you slowly.
percy finally looks at you, and the sheer hurt in his iridescent eyes makes you inhale sharply. a lump forms in your throat.
“i did,” he confirms quietly. “why didn’t you say something earlier?”
fighting in a war hadn’t prepared you for man’s greatest folly, something that you, arguably, should’ve been good at. the lump in your throat is difficult to dislodge, yet percy is patient as you swallow uncomfortably.
“i never meant it like that.”
percy’s eyes flash, and you feel sick to your stomach. “have you ever wondered why so many of the other cabins hate us?”
his previously pained expression morphed into a look of confusion. you continued, “in aphrodite cabin, our rite of passage is to break your first love’s heart. silena—” your voice breaks. “—silena tried to put an end to it, and then both she and beckendorf—” you choke up again, and percy’s expression becomes solemn, “died tragically. we didn’t know the consequences of not doing it were real until then, and we realized it was a curse.”
you watch percy seemingly wrestle with his thoughts, taking a step toward you. 
“why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” there is no judgment in his voice, yet you still feel embarrassment pooling in your stomach.
“can you honestly tell me that you’re okay with this? with the gods dictating another aspect of your life?” (somewhere in the back of your mind, you can hear luke’s voice repeating the same sentence.)
“you didn’t ask for this either.”
“it’s not our job to question them,” you say, trying not to let a tear slip.
“maybe we should,” percy says, still looking straight at you. 
“careful,” you say, as thunder rumbled distantly overhead, “this is what luke was saying.”
“i don’t care,” percy says, “if you or i die a tragic death, we’ll just have to go through tartarus.”
he said it so simply, so matter-of-factly that your breath catches in your throat.
“so, you’re okay with this?” you ask, trying to suppress the tinge of hopefulness in your voice.
percy looked at you in disbelief, his face was so earnest, “why wouldn’t i be?”
you laughed, more out of shock than anything else. percy continued, “i think your mother would think we’d make a cute couple, so maybe she won’t curse us with a tragic end.”
you’re grinning now, tears forgotten, “more like she’ll give us a tragic end because she likes us.”
percy shrugged, “i think we’ll be fine as long as we’re together.”
he kissed you, finally, which was long over-due, and you felt like everything was finally falling into place. 
“took you guys long enough.” 
you turned around to find the source of the interruption, making eye-contact with clarisse, her arms folded and a smug expression on her face. beside her stands most of your friends, all adorning matching wicked expressions. your heart stops beating for a second before your cheeks flush with embarrassment.
“how much of that did you guys hear?” percy asked, suddenly looking bashful.
“most of it,” drew replied with a smirk.
percy looked at you, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement on his face as your friends surrounded the both of you, hoisting you on their shoulders.
“maybe the two of you need to cool off,” annabeth said with a laugh.
connor grinned at her, before calling out, “dump them in the lake!”
you groaned, begging, “annabeth, please.”
“this is payback for all the pining i had to witness over the years,” she said with another bright laugh.
percy shrugged at you, a grin on his face as if saying accept your fate. you gave in, shaking your head as you laughed at their antics.
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januaryembrs · 3 months
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impulsive!hotchner!reader (i’m thinking hotchs sister) x spencer reid
as in reader completely ignores the dangers of the job but somehow it always ends up going how she planned for it to go and then there’s hotch and reid completely pissed at her im talking spencer red faced and spewing facts and statistics on what could’ve gone wrong and hotch just backing him up with a frown and crossed arms
THREE'S A CROWD | Spencer Reid x Hotchner!Reader
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description: it's hard enough getting your job done when you work with your boyfriend, even harder when your overbearing boss happens to be your brother.
length: 500wds
warnings: mention of house fire + medical side affects of inhaling smoke
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“You’re grounded,” 
You baulked, eyes narrowing at your eldest brother where he’d forced you to sit in the back of the ambulance, the medic draping a shock blanket over your shoulders.
“Grounded? Are you kidding me?” You seethed, and your lips pulled into a snarl when he crossed his arms over his chest, his face tipping on furious, “Aaron, I’m not-”
“Don’t Aaron me, you could have died. Do you not realise how irresponsible you were being?” You huffed, rolling your eyes and sitting back with your own arms lacing over your chest, feeling like a fifteen year old all over again being lectured on why you shouldn’t sneak out to parties or roll weed. 
“Thank you, agent, for saving five citizens from a house fire, that was incredibly brave of you. Oh sure, no problem big brother, anything for the job-” You mimicked childishly, your teeth clenching roughly as you felt their stares burning into the side of your head, pun intended. 
“The biggest killer in fires isn’t the flame itself but the smoke inhalation,” Spencer snapped, his lips pursed together just as annoyed as your brother, and your whirled around to match his glare, “Black smoke not only is the cause of thirty thousand people a year alone, but also supercharges existing health problems and can cause life long-chronic inflammation of the lungs. So yes, you were being irresponsible,” 
You gawped at your boyfriend, the two men staring down at you with irritation, and you had to admit your lungs were feeling a little tender from where you’d ran back in the house to help the father drag his wife and children out of the burning building. But you wouldn’t admit that to them, you couldn’t. Because if they were this worried and vexed at you being asymptomatic, you shuddered to think how overbearing they would be if you so much as coughed. 
“Seriously, Spence, you want in my bad books too?” You snipped, but he doubled down, shaking his head and scoffing in a way you’d never heard from him before. Sometimes you wondered if they took tips from one another on how to be the world’s most affectionate pains in your ass. 
“I am serious, just as serious as heart disease, COPD, cardiovascular issues, emphysema, all of which are common long term side effects of black smoke inhalation-” Spencer continued, and you threw your head back with an eye roll and a groan, feeling your chest aching already with where you struggled to keep your breathing even, already knowing you were going to kick yourself when the two of them hit you with the ‘I told you so’. 
“Man, I would hate to be that girl right about now,” Morgan said to Emily, stuffing his hands in his pockets where he watched you get chewed out by Hotch and Reid. 
“Are you kidding me, being yelled at by those two, I’d take facing a house fire all over again,” She murmured, shaking her head as you shoved past the two of them, the three of you squabbling over the fact they insisted you stayed to be checked over by the EMTs, “Kid’s got balls on her, I’ll give her that,” 
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bigassmoonchild · 1 year
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night team here
can we request ghost with a daughter that is the mini verison of him like soap thinks shes gonna be sweet and nice and she bullies him worse than her father does
bonus points
price already knew ghosts daughter was a complete savage but soap annoyed him that morning and price decided the consequences of his actions was being brutally roasted
(daughter is gonna be leaning teens just bc i said so. also, thank you so much for the request!! love the night team 🫶🫶)
soap wasn’t supposed to know. this wasn’t something anyone was supposed to know, but simon was decently okay with price knowing. price knew to keep secrets, hell, price had his own.
but simon accidentally let it slip.
‘i’ve gotta get home, early morning,’ he’d told the 141 when they wanted to go out for drinks after a successful mission. they gave him odd looks (one of them was a knowing one, but he’d ignore price being offered to come watch a recital).
soap didn’t let it go, no he didn’t. ‘got the missus waiting back there?’ and simon was exhausted, it was a long mission and all he wanted was to sleep in his own house.
‘kids got a recital,’ he’d muttered and had walked away. what he didn’t expect was to find a huge amount of messages from soap the next morning. most consisted of the same things.
kid??
who’d have a child with you??
what’s the mother look like?
what’s the kids name?
son or daughter?
maybe i wanted to come watch too
i’m technically their uncle
and simon had to leave, collected you from your grandmother and took you to the recital. you were beautiful, the pride and joy of his life. someone he’d never thought he’d ever had, someone he never knew he could love more than anything.
it took months for simon to wear down enough ti even allow any of them to see a picture of you, let alone know your name.
‘beauty, that one is. you sure she came from you?’ simon shoved soap off the chair for that comment. soap continued to rave about being an ‘uncle’ and as much as simon didn’t want it, he had to tell you.
you looked at him weird when he admitted he’d spoken about you to the 141. you knew, generally, what he did but you didn’t get details.
‘ok and?’ you’d asked. ‘what’re they gonna do? it’s not like they’re gonna do something behind your back, not like price has said anything,’ and he worried. maybe he coddled you a little, but you were his girl.
and you’d agreed to meeting them, but told simon you didn’t want to know when. ‘i’ll be thinking about it too much,’ you told him.
simon finally dropped a few names for you, late one night when he’d finally relaxed with some whiskey (he didn’t mention the watered down taste).
‘what kinda name is soap? he drop it or something?’
it took some time before simon had grown any sort of comfortable letting anyone but price be around you. it wasn’t common that you stayed by price when simon was out on a mission, but the occasion happened when it was possibly a fatal one.
it was early morning when you’d sent a text to simon, he hadn’t meant to go to the compound at all that day but had made a lunch. it was a picture of the lunch, still sitting in the fridge with the caption ‘you forget something?’
and he’d groaned, mentioning to price in passing that he forgot his lunch at home. soap and gaz had been there, and a little smile came from soap.
‘just have the lass bring it ‘round, i’m sure she’s dying to meet her uncles,’ price gave a little grimace. ‘what? she’s probably a sweetheart, i cant imagine a girl like her would turn out like ghost,’
you’d relented to bring it around, especially after price messaged you about soap not being able to shut up about meeting you.
he’s pressing me for information. -john
if you bring the food, i’ll give your dad an extra day of leave. -john
please, i’m about to make him run. -john
you always laughed a little when he signed off after each text. it was his own little thing, and you secretly enjoyed having a fatherly figure text you more than three words.
when you got to the compound, you found price waiting outside for you and you waggled the bag of food at him. he let you in, guiding you through the halls to where simon and the others were.
‘try not to forget it, next time,’ you told simon. he gave you a small grunt, one that sounded like his ‘thank you’.
soap walked up to you, giving you a cheeky grin and swinging his arm around your shoulder. ‘how’s it been, lass?’ he asked you and you shook his arm off.
‘you know it’s not the 80’s anymore, right?’ he blinked at you. snorting softly with an eye roll, you sat down in the nearest chair. ‘mullets back in style, you know. might fit you better,’ you commented.
soap was left with his mouth open, gesturing faintly to you then to simon. ‘she can’t be like you,’ he nearly hissed.
‘don’t act so surprised, she said damn near the same thing to me,’ price lamented, thinking back on his first time meeting you.
‘you from the 1800’s? christ, i haven’t seen anyone willingly have that beard,’ you’d told him oh so long ago.
you looked around, leaning towards him. ‘who else am i supposed to be like? i’m pretty sure he’s my father,’ you hissed back.
all soap could do was blink. a little ghost? no, he couldn’t believe it. he saw simon give you a little fist bump, almost saw a few dollars being passed between you two.
simon pulled his mask off to eat and you looked at him closely. ‘you get a haircut?’ you asked, squinting your eyes suspiciously.
‘nope,’ he responded. ‘got ‘em all cut,’ and you snorted a short laugh. soap couldn’t do much but watch the interaction, realization slowly settling in.
‘that’s why you tell those shitty jokes?’ he announced. ‘you’re actually a father telling dad jokes,’
you gave a little smile and he could see the admiration in your eyes. god, you were just like your father but the confidence came off of you so easily.
‘yknow he came to my parents job show and tell once,’ you told everyone and simon stared at you. almost daring you to finish. ‘he didn’t take the mask off and had to leave, he scared too many of the kids,’
you spoke so fondly of him.
‘but he’s a prick, so he just left,’ simon lightly kicked your leg and you made a big show of it. you might be his kid, but you had your own personality in there.
and simon would be dead before anyone took that from you.
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glassrowboat · 5 months
Text
I Grew Up. Jing Yuan.
Summary: Before Jing Yuan was the general of the Luofu, he was just another kid who would play with wooden swords and bugs; a menace who was always ready to prove himself as a Cloud Knight. And besides him? An apprentice from the Alchemy Commission who was always ready to annoy him in his endeavors.
Warnings: Mentions of war, gore, death, there is an NSFW part (when both characters are adults), so fingering, smut, oral
Word count: 11,300+
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A loud, cheery voice called out “one, seventeen, five hundred and seventy two,” as a blade swung in the air. The rustle of clothes coming with each move, every practiced hit to a non-existent enemy having a random number sang out into the air to match it. No chirping bird nestled in the trees to be had as the source of the voice had long since scared them all away. “Nine hundred and ninety nine, fifty six!”
And with each shout Jing Yuan was repeating the number he was actually on in his head, trying not to let a certain annoyance distract him as she has done so many times before. (Y/n)’s antics just as familiar as the spot he found himself training in. Cracked stones with bits of moss growing between the once upon a time smooth concrete, a red tree providing shade from the blaring sun, and a bench only five feet away currently supporting a girl with her hands to her mouth, trying to echo out each word.
“Sixty nine! Two thousand one hundred and five!”
Her green dress was tell enough that this girl was from the alchemy commission, but they both already knew that, the details of swirling clouds so unlike the ones above the two providing shade. A shadow cast out over the courtyard helping keep the air just cool enough that a light breeze would have anyone considering fetching a sweater. Well, anyone not in the middle of a training session.
“You are being a nuisance.”
Per usual.
Bringing his sword back up to practice another swing Jing Yuan tried his best to ignore the taunting words just begging him to chase her around the small space, again. “Oh, big word for a little guy. Jingliu teach you that one recently?”
“What if she did? Master is-”
“Three hundred eighty six.”
“Master is-”
“Seventy nine.”
With a clamor Jing Yuan drops his sword in a way one could compare it to a knight getting his weapon knocked out of his hand in the heat of battle. A daunting enemy above him threatening to end his life with their own blade as he scurried to fetch it back in time before that looming presence, a terrifying face about to become the last thing his ten year old self sees. So like a prince charming in a fairy tale, his fingers would grasp the worn down hilt from the shape of his hand just in the knick of time, blocking the enemy’s strike. A triumphant hero. Except it was the complete opposite. The sword just fell to the ground from a slip of Jing Yuan’s fingers.
“Smooth moves, Yuan.”
“If you hadn't distracted me.”
“And what Cloud Knight is supposed to lose his weapon because a chicka said a few words?”
Jing Yuan had to stop himself from biting on the inside of his cheek or maybe even a scoff just so he could get out: “any knight should know that sometimes you will lose your weapon in combat and what really matters is what I do next.”
Like he could grab a hidden dagger! Or….”I could just take the blade of a defeated foe.”
“Like what? Those giant ones the mara use?” (Y/n) held a hand up above her head, waving it in the air to call extra attention to it, a habit from waiting to be called on in class after listening to someone drone on for hours at a time about the medicinal properties of lily of the valley or something of the like. “I've seen those before, and they're taller than both you and I, so good luck! You'd have to spin around in circles just to give the blade any force behind it.”
A small giggle fell from her lips as she pretended to swing a giant blade, mocking the same way she would see Jing Yuan use his own.
‘Just what in the world is she imagining?’
“Just admit it, evolution didn't choose you, short stuff. So you'll just be a knight in training even when you're five hundred years old.”
‘As if!’
Picking his blade back up Jing Yuan slid it away in its designated sheathe with a satisfying click, the glare from the metal no longer reflecting on the ground beneath him as the sun peaked out from behind the clouds. “I told you that I'm going to be taller than you one day. Besides, you're only four inches taller than me, that isn't a lot.”
“I feel like I can make a joke here but it might go over your head.”
“Nope! Nope!” Not wanting to hear it, Jing Yuan smacked his hands to his ears. Maybe it would be enough to block out her shrill voice even as (Y/n) got closer to try and pull them off and out of place. “Just because you had to earn about that stuff for your studies doesn't mean I want to hear it. Not again. Mom already gave me the talk and it was awful!”
“You're such a kid.”
“She was talking about things with things and wouldn't let me leave until I repeated it back to her.” Right after he had run to go try and wash his ears out by dunking his head in the water can outside his home in hopes of the water knocking the words loose.
“You're not helping your case here.”
“It doesn't matter! That stuff like kissing other people the way mom and dad do is so not on my agenda. That can be saved for your princess stories and other girly stuff.”
“Oh yeah?” A little grin curled at the corners of her lips, most likely due to having another retort right on the tip of her tongue. (Y/n) even got out the words “then why are you so huffy over this stuff” before being cut off with little to no mercy by a loud call of her name. A man’s voice shouting for the girl again and again, only drawing nearer with each passing second. “Shit! I-I mean shoot. Shoot.”
Dropping his hands he stood there watching the panic come to her face. Only slightly smug. “Sure you did.”
“You're not helping!”
Quickly her form ran over to the courtyard's many walls, green dress fluttering behind as those little legs scurried around in a panic. Her voice only picked up in speed as (Y/n) tried to get the situation out, and understood, as fast as possible. “Yuan, I have to go right now. I left without permission again.”
‘Of course she did. Probably to get out of those talks about being switched out to advanced classes.’
“Hoist me up!”
“And why should I? You've been doing nothing but trying to get under my skin this entire time.”
Again, another call of her name sounded. Haize’s voice becoming clearer and clearer. A man Jing Yuan had only come across in passing when trying to drag a certain nuisance into playing with him. Or, a better way to put it, (Y/n)’s master.
“You motherf- I'll owe you!” Her hands were scrambling at the bricks on the wall, trying to find just the right ones to use for purchase. As if that's how scaling a flat wall would work, like rock climbing. Sure. “Just help me up or for the Reignbow Arbiter sake!”
He couldn't help the chuckle he was trying, and failing, to fight back from escaping, not with how quickly she did a 180. From teasing the life out of him (per usual) to now looking like she would plead like her life is on the line. Though with master Haize it was hard to tell, he could very well deal out writing the same sentence a thousand times over worse. At least that's one of the lighter one's Jing Yuan has heard about.
‘One shall not leave the alchemy commission without permission’ with each ‘I’ dotted with one of her hastily drawn hearts.
“Why should I? I think this is simply karma.” Despite his words Jing Yuan was already coming over to help, eyes going up and down the wall to figure out the best way to go about it.
“You little- I'll owe you, okay?”
“I know you will.”
And just like those five years ago, when they were both kids running amok trying to help one of them escape from an unjust punishment, (Y/n)’s shoe fell between his interlocked hands to his shoulder as she managed to swing a leg over gray tiles of the walls roofing. Admittedly it was a bit of a blessing that at least this time she didn't have to step on his head to get that proper step up. Last time that left a good mark of dirt in what was otherwise Jing Yuan's pure white hair as she scrambled away with a wide eyes scanning over the courtyard like she was expecting her master to pop out of thin air and a quick “see ya!”
Now though? (Y/n) was looking down at him from up high, her hand held out to help him up to follow her.
“And why are we sneaking into one of the alchemy commissions gardens when you have full access to go here?” This entire thing didn't really make sense to him, but here he was playing along even as the scent of flowers hit Jing Yuan in a way that was comparable to a woman accidently spraying her perfume in your face.
“Because, esteemed Jing Yuan, you're not allowed back here. And we have to do something to celebrate you officially becoming a cloud knight.”
Grabbing her hand the very same ‘esteemed knight’ pulled himself up and along beside her with very little help besides a tug or two to his blue sleeves. The uniform he now gets the privilege to wear with a red ribbon Jing Yuan ties around his waist every morning with pride after years of work and swinging that same blade over and over again. He swears that if he took a moment to just sit there and close his eyes while this menace of a woman jumps down into the garden below that he could feel the grip in his palm.
That is until his eyes shoot open as he hears a grunt and sees her figure kneeling on the ground, one of her hands brushing dirt off her face. Failing at that too, but for now she doesn't need to know that.
“Smooth moves.”
“Shut it.”
Jumping down after her, in a proper landing, Jing Yuan helps her up as (Y/n) huffs.
“But my point still stands, cloud knight.” Knocking a hand against his chest she turned back to the garden before them. An array of colors. Each petal is like a brush stroke on a canvas. “You got to your big goal, so we should celebrate.”
“Many of the other trainees after getting accepted were shooting the breeze with shaoxing glasses in their hands, and you choose a flower field you know like the back of your hand to take me to?”
“Fine, don't appreciate it. But I at least thought it would be nice. It's been a while since you've been allowed back here after you ruined a flower bed.”
“And last I recall you're the one that pushed me into said flower bed.”
“Anyway-” trying and failing to hide her laughter at what was most likely the memory of tripping Jing Yuan straight into a pile of dirt and seeds before her fellow classmates (Y/n) bent down so she could properly look at the blossoms before her. She probably knew every little detail about that flower, but Jing Yuan couldn't place it as anything more than just another pink one.
‘Anyway, she says.’
“Since when did it hurt to stop and smell the roses? Besides, if anyone catches us I'm just here….getting a few herbs I need to dry out for a project I have planned out. The number in my dorm has been dwindling.”
Moving besides her he sat down on the wooden walk set up to make sure no one would repeat his mistake so many years ago of mistaking where the path ended and patch started. At least that's the lie this one who thinks proper decor is bottles full of potions ultimately decided on before their scolding began. Jing Yaun’s boots making a hefty clunk as he settled down.
“And not even a drink to be had?”
“Yuan, wait until you're older. I shouldn't have to go over the repercussions of drinking before your prefrontal lobe has fully matured with you. I'll do it too.” Another huff. “It's very important for you not to touch a drop before your behavioral patterns-”
“Is this you talking or the lessons you've learned, prodigy?”
“Ha. Ha. Ha.”
Plucking one of the flower's petals off she held the fragile thing up, studying the veins as she held it up to the full moon. The only source of proper lighting to be had when neither of you could afford to turn on the ones for the garden without being caught. Who knows what trouble could be had for you two from this even with her supposed foolproof excuse for being here.
“Carnations. You've probably seen a few as decorations at those fancy tea houses, the ones we've seen those Foxian ladies favoring so much. These can be used for their anti-inflammatory properties if you're in short supply of the normal pain meds the commission makes. A poor substitution in my book, but it's best to always have something extra on hand just in case.”
Raising his hands up Jing Yuan brings them together a few times in a short round of applause. She always did look so intense when bent over work tables with mixtures of all sorts at her fingertips, eyebrows knit together just as they are now. “You really do sound like a proper healer when you go off about this. Shame I know you for mainly cussing when you stub your toe.”
“A lady is allowed to express herself!”
“‘Lady.’”
“‘Cloud knight.’”
“You can't use that on me anymore now that it's true.”
It takes a moment, her eyes on him in silence before finally relenting and muttering a short “touche” he almost missed.
Taking the petal from those hands lacking the calloused his have Jing Yuan pinched it softly, trying to view the one little piece of life the same way she seemed to. A well of endless possibilities that could be made into something more than just a woman's perfume. “Say, I think it's time I cash in one of the many favors you owe me.”
“And what favor do I owe you, big guy?”
“Ah, someone's still petty I grew taller than them.” Chuckling Jing Yuan looked up from the petal to a face that still had the slightest smear of dirt on its cheek, barely seen in this lowlight. “What happened to those precious three inches you had on me?”
“It was four.”
“Three inches.”
“Well, it's perfectly normal for a young man to be tall. If anything it's just a sign you were able to grow up strong and healthy despite all the times you slid your fried cabbage on my plate.”
Something she had let him do on multiple occasions as they shared a table at either the alchemy commission when everything was stuffed full of nutrients and seemingly without a sprinkle of sugar or at his family home as Jing Yuan’s mom always slipped them an extra dessert whenever (Y/n) was over.
“Well, uh…”
‘Okay, it seems we're getting off track here.’
“You owe me for helping you escape Haize when you were thirteen.”
“No, I gave you my desserts for a week in recompense. It's been paid off already, Yuan. Try again.”
Huh. Tilting his head at that his eyes rolled up to the star covered sky. The Luofu was on its night cycle meaning they could properly see the galaxy beyond the blue hue and clouds that would be overcast during the day time.
“It's pretty, isn't it?” A hand pushed his shoulder, not nearly enough to knock Jing Yuan down to the wooden path but it had him rocking in place for a moment. Tall but lanky as a certain healer had described him, right after saying he needs to eat more, then he'd properly fill out once he ages up and grows out of the awkward teenage phase. “Just say what you want. I'm fine with you owing me for once.”
“Of course you are.”
And of course he shoved her shoulder right back.
“Can you tell me what it's like to see a mara-struck up close? If I'm to meet one in combat I should know what I'm going into, and master Jingliu can only help so much.”
‘Master has only one perspective.’
“Good to know you're not so over confident that you're rushing into battle with your sword raised for a charge. I didn't know you had a brain in there.”
“Seriously? You- Just back to my question.” Jing Yuan snapped.
“Okay. Fine. Impatient much. The thing is with your question…It's simply not a fair comparison.” She took a moment, eyes going from between him to the flowers that surrounded them. Lavender, marigolds, chrysanthemums, and so so many more. A field. And if he asked Jing Yuan was sure (Y/n) could tell him the scientific names of each one without issue. “The one's I deal with are primed for dissection, not for a fight.”
A sigh.
“But, it's not pleasant. Master had me- let me try again. You know those gingko leaves that tree in the courtyard you used to always train in? How would they slowly turn from green to yellow only to fall off soon after?”
“I would always be tasked with cleaning them up. Part of my ‘due diligence’ and training in patience. I'm pretty sure though it was just master Jingliu not wanting to clean it up herself.”
“Well,” a small giggle came from her at that, “someone needed to do it. And if I caught you sweeping I'd always fetch a broom and spend the afternoon helping you catch up on chores.”
‘And she would always hold it over my head after.’
“I loved gingko leaves when we were younger, because they made me think of you and those moments where we were threatening to hit each other over the head with those old brooms that probably couldn't even handle a single strike. I would pick one out from the dustpan and keep it stored away in one of the many pots in my room. Like they were precious.”
“Is rambling included at this time to stop and smell the roses?” He couldn't help the little grin that came to him, lips quirked up at the edges with absolutely no effort to stop it.
“Don't interrupt me if you're the one who wants an answer. No lecturer wants a student that can't shut their fucking trap.”
“Okay, okay.” Raising his hands in surrender was automatic at this point after hearing just that pissed off voice alone. “Go on, teacher.”
“Thank you. For the Reignbow Arbiter’s sake. So,” (Y/n) clapped her hands together, calling attention to herself despite the fact Jing Yuan was already paying more than enough to her, “back to my point.”
“The thing is…After my first dissection, even with master Haize watching over the entire procedure, I couldn't look at the mara-struck all at once. I was supposed to dissect it like a frog, something I've done dozens of times before, but I couldn't even just take a step back to look at the thing properly. It was a task to be objective.”
‘Couldn't look at them? Was it someone she once knew?’
“When I finally did it was at the end of the process when the master said I could wash off, and there I stood by the sink with those stupid blue rubber gloves covered in the coagulated blood of a dead body and gingko leaves.”
“I couldn't think about them the same way anymore.” Her head dropped. Eyes downcast on the very hands that had cut and opened up what was essentially, or at least should be, a corpse. “The abominations are so different from us, Yuan.”
“I know.”
Even the thought of those creatures could ruin a night like this it seems, one full of their usual antics and trouble seeking habits. The mara-struck, an inevitable fate for all Xianzhou natives if death doesn't take them first.
“Maybe you were right, maybe a drink to go with this night of celebration would have been better. Then we could be cheering about something stupid and-”
His hand was raised, reaching out to her, only stopping midway when (Y/n) glanced up at him with a disapproving stare; most likely for interrupting her or getting caught off track despite all the times she's done so to him. “And you were just getting on my case about it earlier too. Frontal lobe..something or another.” And he wiped the dirt he had been letting stick to her without a word off. The grainy texture is a sharp contrast to her own smooth skin.
“You- how long has that been there without you telling me?”
“Since you fell off the wall.”
“I didn't fall, I jumped.”
“Are you sure about that, prodigy?”
She swatted his hand away, much like she was dealing with a pesky bug flying around near her ear.
“I hope you know that when you get hurt on the field, and you inevitably will because all you knights do at one point, they will bring you back to me. When that happens, I will make sure that whatever injury you acquired will somehow end in my fellow healers being convinced they need to chop one of your limbs off due to risk of infection. You will be at my mercy, Jing Yuan.”
‘Great, another threat.’
She's made hundreds of threats since the moment they met varying from some that had Jing Yuan stumbling over himself in shock to wondering if the best she could do was smack him over the head. Especially when he's still getting taller. Who knows, maybe one of those days she'll have to ask him to lean down for her just to be met with a solid hit to the head. The thought alone had him laughing.
“Yeah, I know.”
“Hey! What's so funny you two bit bitch?”
“You don't need to worry about it.”
Taking one of those pink carnations Jing Yuan plucked the stem from the ground, not bothering to mind the dirt when his fingers were already dusted with it. Fragile petals and a soft hue. It truly was just a flower in his eyes, but somehow it looked like more than that as he tucked it behind (Y/n)’s ear as she scolded him for picking something without permission.
It was two years later Jing Yuan found himself holding a bouquet of the very same flowers after toiling over the best way to do this for hours, but they seemed only fitting. The shop owner he bought them from was nice enough to wrap them in those sheets of paper used for…well, decoration? And a red ribbon much like the very one in his hair.
The only difference being from when he bought them ten minutes ago to now is how the long stems had been wrangled as he clutched them tight in his sweating hand.
And her, staring up at them.
“Happy Luofu alliance day to you too.”
“You're all the way out here instead of joining in on the festivities?”
Papers were scattered all around her like a blanket on the grass, some clearly torn out from their notebooks as pages were frayed at the ends and others were slightly yellowed from years of use and spills of what is most likely more than just coffee stains. Scribbled notes that had Jing Yuan careful not to step on one and leave a footprint behind (for fear of being scolded, again) as he caught glimpses of diagrams, highlighted margins, and sketches of organs as he walked closer to her.
“There will be countless more years to spend in the Dragonvista Rain Hall. For now, I want to spend my one free day organizing my notes.” As she spoke (Y/n) lifted up the notebook that had been on her lap in the air.
“Your ‘one free day’ being a holiday you're required to take off.”
‘Yet here she is working.’
Glancing up Jing Yuan’s eyes fell on the tree she was sitting under. Foliage far from dense enough to keep the occasional sun beam peaking through the leaves as they cast golden rays on her green dress; still wearing her alchemy commission uniform, even now.
“Did you not have to be dragged to classes once kicking and screaming?”
She would even cling onto his arm, shouting for the future cloud knight to protect the poor damsel in distress from the fearsome bad guy. That being Haize as he plucked her up from the ground and carried her out of the courtyard like a disgruntled cat. Jing Yuan’s ear would be ringing for the rest of the day, but it was always worth it seeing her so pissed off after purposefully being a frustrating little brat. Teasing him like no tomorrow.
“Times change, Yuan.” She said, her words full of laughter. “Though, I did see this poster earlier about some foxian theater troupe putting on a performance. Epic of the Old Verdant House, if I remember it right.”
“That explains why we can hear drum chanting all the way out here.”
A melodic beat full of energy that matched the chatter of the crowds down below. From here he could see the lanterns hanging off of every pillar they could and tops of tents full of wares with people being waved in to 'come and see what we're selling, benefactors.’
“Sure does….say, I'm surprised you have the day off. Shouldn't an esteemed cloud knight be going around patrolling the streets to help keep the peace? I thought you'd jump at the chance to try and show your dedication, yet here you are not even in uniform.”
Standing there in everyday wear without a single piece of armor Jing Yuan shifted his hanfu sleeve, the fabric stretching only to fall back as he let go. It wouldn't hinder him, but it certainly wasn't his usual garb.
“I switched out my shift with that kid you helped last week.” Though she had many patients. It wouldn't surprise him if (Y/n) had forgotten about the event entirely. Things do tend to start blurring together when it's the same day after day, or at least that's what she says. “The one who got all bruised up in training, Aiguo?”
She hummed at that, seemingly to take a moment to recall. “The blond? For a cloud knight he sure does bruise easily.”
“He does…” The flowers in his hand were only wrangled up further as this conversation continued. This was besides the point. “So, rewriting your old notes then instead of going to that performance? I might have to grab a rose so you're forced to stop and smell them.”
Her eyes flicked up to him and he had to grip onto those already wrangled stems even harder to keep himself from simply choking the words out in his haste. A few white knuckles were easy enough to stand in favor of making this right.
“It's a better use of my time then watching you try and catch a goldfish at one of those scooping games again. I'm pretty sure by the time you were out of credits to waste away the vendor and I had become dear friends.”
He couldn't help but raise a brow at that. The only reason he was trying so hard in the first place was because only a week before she was forced to get rid of her pet scorpion. Ingredients had been found in her dorm by a supervisor, and after an apparently long meeting, it was determined the thing had to go despite her begging to just let him stay in the alchemy commission.
“It was rigged.” He said, slightly shrugging as he did so.
“All carnival games are rigged. That's the point.”
‘True, but at least it got her laughing. Even if it was at my expense.’
“Or, and hear me out on this, Yuan. It could also be that you just suck.”
“Thank you, so much.”
“Oh you're so very welcome.” Picking some of the sheets of paper up she tucked them between the pages of her notebook. Brand new but it was already covered in dirty fingerprints. No doubt from her collecting samples to tie into the pages as he could already see some of her old notes with a dried out jimson weed (if he recalled the name correctly) pinned down with thin metal wire keeping it in place. “I just don't have the time to do this any other day.”
“So.” stepping in closer to her spot under the tree Jing Yuan kneeled before her, making sure they were eye to eye even if she wasn't paying him the same amount of attention he was her. “If I asked you to come down and watch me struggle to catch you another fish?”
“And do you have the credits to spend on something so lavish?”
“I can spare a few.”
“I…I'm busy. I want to get this done.”
“And I can get you some osmanthus jelly.” Lifting the bouquet up, Jing Yuan held it up to her, the end of the red ribbon softly swaying from the movement. “You preach to me the importance of taking a break but you can't take one yourself?”
“You know I hate when you use my words against-”
And her words were drowned out by the loud sound of an engine, of a starskiff racing on by as fast as it could go. A familiar sound that would normally have Jing Yuan nodding to himself at the sight, taking in the beauty of such skilled piloting, but right now it only had him spitting out hair from his mouth as it whipped right into his face. White filled his vision as papers flew before his very eyes. A specimen of belladonna seen for only a moment before it trailed off, caught in the strong breeze the ship kicked up.
“No! No, no, no!”
Like confetti the notes she had spent years on flew away. Not even her hands snatching to grab anything proved fruitful as she scrambled up to pluck anything from the blue sky. Her fingertips barely grazed a sheet completely covered in yellow marker over the written margins before it fell to the crowd below.
Multiple people down below dressed in their finest attire, the festival masks, and waving their fans to keep cool in the generated heat of the Luofu's system were caught looking up and around them as the notes fell all around them. Ranging from the rooftops to the streets as those years she spent were tread over with little to no care, like they were nothing more than posters advertising something or another, as (Y/n) whined at the sight.
“Fuck!”
As Jing Yuan pulled the last bits of hair from his mouth he could see her flipping off the direction the pilot flew off in, even as it was long gone.
“Fuck you you punk ass bitch! Come back here before I shove a catheter up your dick!”
“Interesting insult.”
Grabbing a sheet of parchment from the branches of the tree, only a few of them stuck in there, Jing Yuan held it out to her.
“I hate this fucking household.”
Sighing Jing Yuan looked back at the paper in his hand as she just pouted at the sight of it. There goes his chance to confess it seems. Another day then.
“Come on prodigy, I'll help you find everything we can. It doesn't matter if it means spending the entire Alliance day peaking into alleyways or climbing over crates.”
“Just another favor I'll owe you.” She grabbed the paper from him as she spoke, fingers going over that messy handwriting that was no doubt scrawled down in a rush to get everything in her mind to a proper record. “Years of work.”
“No, there's no….”
‘No need for a favor.’
“Actually.” The flowers were over by the tree now, forgotten in the midst of what just happened, but did he really need them right now? Sure, this wasn't how Jing Yuan had been wanting this to go down, but what did those hours before the mirror practicing what to say as his friend, a fellow Cloud Knight, mean in retrospect when she was pouting like this? “I'd like to cash in that favor now. I’m going to ask you something and I don't want you to immediately say no. Take your time to think about it.”
“Now that's a big ask.” She said, grip tightening a little bit more to the point the paper started to crinkle under her touch. Maybe she was worried it would grow wings and fly away on her too.
“I know.”
Grabbing her hand, careful to make sure his actions did not tear anything, Jing Yuan squeezed it softly. She had no calluses made from the efforts of swinging a blade, of wielding a weapon. No, they were soft from the amount of lotion she used from always applying some after washing her hands again and again once she was done making some new medication or concoction or another thing of the like. Somehow that made it all the easier to hold her just like this.
“The next Alliance festival, I want to go together not as friends, or two people trying to find your notes, but as eachothers date.”
“No.”
“Now that's not taking your time-”
“Ask me again later, when I'm in a better mood; and pick an event that will happen sooner than a once a year festival.”
‘Oh…. Oh!’
Squeezing her hand a bit tighter Jing Yuan asked: “will you go on a date with me sometime this month? We will have to figure something out between your busy schedule, prodigy.”
“I said, ask me later.”
“Technically it was ‘later,’ just by a few seconds.”
“This is the worst confession I have ever heard and I've seen people proposing on the medical beds when one of them is so drugged they can't even understand what is being said to them.”
After a moment she added in, “you still have to help me find my notes though, then I'll say yes. And I want a better confession too, like in those romance books. Give me a whole speech.”
“Are you seriously asking me to study those girly novels of yours?”
“Yes. Or no dice.”
“I- fine.”
‘To believe that years ago I'd cringe at the thought, but here I am agreeing to it just to satisfy this bossy woman.’
“You're always a headache.”
Later that day, after spending hours combing the city to find every last sheet they could manage, Jing Yuan tied the red ribbon around her pinky, admiring how it showed she was his as (Y/n) told him she'd find the time in her busy schedule to squeeze in one little outing.
And it was that very same hand he tied a ribbon to, that he grasped that day, the very same day he played in his head again and again with a smile that could never leave him at the memory, that is now threaded through Jing Yuan’s hair.
Tugging. Pulling. Unapologetically leaving knots he'd have to comb out later.
“Patience.”
“You've been saying that for the past ten minutes, Yuan.”
The way her voice came out slightly strained had his lips tugging up. Soft little pants he was drawing out of her from those pretty lips he yearned to kiss right now even as his own were sliding along her naked thigh. Tongue just barely lolling out to leave a small lick before retreating once again.
She'd call him a tease. Has been, actually. But Jing Yuan couldn't barely help himself when seeing her like this.
Blankets pushed off to the side and barely hanging off the edge of the bed that was cast in only the low glow of a lamp on a desk nearby. One covered in glass bottles full of things he's been warned not to touch, and he knew well enough to listen. It was enough to have his fingers gleaming as he pulled them away again.
Much to someone's dismay.
“Stop being mean to me. Please.”
Jing Yuan only hummed in response, not minding her begging much as his teeth just barely dug into her skin; the idea of leaving a mark was so, very, tempting. To know that under her skirts in the days to come would be proof of this moment in the dark.
Her thigh tensed in response, muscles flexing before falling back to a relaxed state as his lips ran over the imprints of her underwear he had been pulling and tugging at earlier left. A garment discarded as soon as his head dipped between her thighs, yet here she was urging him to give her more.
‘How greedy.’
But he is too as Jing Yuan’s cock strains against its confines. Fabric he'd usually consider loose, breathable, and easy to move in suddenly betraying him with every shift of his hips against this old mattress. Barely providing anything friction as he breathes in the scent of sex. Of slick. Of her need for him.
Just that alone had his hips bucking forward.
His gaze moved from the way she sucked his fingers in as they slid back inside her with a wet squelch up to those half lidded eyes that flicked between him and the ceiling.
“Yua-”
A chuckle fell from him as she chased after him, her breath hitching and eyes falling closed as his tongue slid between those lips he's never had a proper chance to taste before, and oh what he would do to let those legs wrap around his fluffy white head and eat a meal he's never had before for hours just to find what would make her unravel beneath him.
Would she call his name in those final moments with her toes curled the way they are now? Would she be clinging onto the sheets with a knuckle white grip? Would her chest heave as he watches those breasts still red from being tugged and teased at fall with every breath?
Yes, they were both greedy.
“I know you're doing that on purpose.” She finally managed to say between her whines and attempt to stifle them away under her free hand.
“Am I now?”
That accusatory glance had Jing Yuan curling his fingers over a soft spot that felt different from the rest, spongy even, as he tried his best to act innocent. Not very convincing when his words are muffled by her pussy, but it was a try nonetheless.
“F-fuck…”
“I can't help but think you liked that.”
It was a wonder she wasn't trying to kick him in some way, but maybe that's just because with every movement of his fingers her head was being thrown back into the white covers.
“Where do you…how do you even know where that is?”
“This?” Jing Yuan asked, fingers crooking even more by just the slightest amount to brush over that spot inside of her again.
(Y/n) didn't need to know the real answer to that, not when she wouldn't let him live it down if she ever found out. She'd get on him until his ears turned pink and she'd only make it worse by pinching them and saying something like “oh sweetie, you're looking sick. Maybe we should take your temperature, yeah?”
So no, he'd keep the fact that one of her fellow students in the alchemy commission went around to all the guys he knew were in a relationship during the mess hall. Lunch hour as silverware clattered against those metal food service plates while some young lad with a diagram of all things pointed out…well...where to touch a woman in exchange for a hundred credits in turn.
Money well spent in his opinion if it had her looking at him like that. Glazed over eyes enough to have Jing Yuan wanting to press a kiss to those soft lips. To let her know just how she tastes.
“Maybe I'm just a natural; a prodigy just like you.”
Wouldn't that be nice? To know just where to touch her to have his name cried out like a prayer. The Reignbow Arbiter an afterthought to his fingers, but he was willing to give her the rest of their lives together to figure this out. To have her melt in his embrace on all the nights they will have, just like this one where she sneaked him into her dorms.
The door didn't even creak on their way in.
He didn't even stop to do anything more than lock the door before Jing Yuan had pulled (Y/n) into his arms. Hands playing with the fabric of that green dress as it traced over the
gold accents on her chest all the way up to the clasp keeping it shut as their lips met in hurried kisses. One after another as she tugged him along through the bedroom to help keep those heavy boots of his from accidently kicking and knocking over anything of importance as they found their way between boxes of files to the bed.
Designs of swirling mist made Jing Yuan feel like he was on cloud nine as they slid up her thighs.
She rolled her eyes as he asked about her underwear, wanting to know if it was just for him. If she anticipated this happening and wanted to look her best for him.
The thought was a sweet one.
But right now that pair was tossed off somewhere long forgotten as his face was covered in her slick, and hands forcing her legs apart as she writhed beneath him.
How long could he take without breathing in some more air? The thought only came to Jing Yuan as his ears buzzed the same way they would after staying too long underwater. (Y/n) his lake he would willingly jump in even if it drowned him.
“Pr-prodigy my ass.”
A kiss to her trembling thigh, eyes locking with hers.
“Are you saying I'm not doing a good job?”
“Not at all.”
‘Sure. She's so snarky even like this.’
A whine, a plea for more met him as Jing Yuan pulled his fingers out. The curve of her plush ass he wanted to squeeze and grope at again covered in spittle and arousal just like his mouth.
Maybe if she was in a sane enough mind she'd be saying something like it's been twelve minutes now. That is if she ever got the chance as he kissed her again. Body hovering over hers, taking note of just how small she looked under him.
How easy it was to grab her wrist and pull her flush against him.
Cock brushed against her through those damnable layers of clothes Jing Yuan wore that had his head burying away in her neck to take in the scent of herbs that clung to every piece of clothing she had. Trying to bite back a groan as he did his best not to rock against her in a frenzy, but it was (Y/n) who ran a hand along his bare back and whispered in their small sanctuary of sheets and pillows “we can stop if you're nervous.”
And like an over eager fool he rushed out a no.
“No, I promise I'm fine.”
‘Worried I'll cum in under a minute, but fine.’
“Besides, you made me wait for a full year so I'm not going to pass on this now.”
“Patience,” She teased back. Hand brushing along his cheek that he couldn't help but to press a kiss to. “Besides, it seemed only right to wait until we were both adults.”
“Is this where you lord over the fact you're three years older than me again?”
Though she hasn't done that since he passed her in height, much to a certain someone's annoyance.
“Maybe.”
Tightening his grip on her waist Jing Yuan pulled her impossibly closer. Her warmth, her laugh, her hands tracing the muscles on his back she could surely name off the top of her head like it was nothing, it was all a reminder of how much he held her dear.
“Can we….”
“Start now?” That laugh again, the curl of her lips as she looked up at him through those long lashes she has cursed everytime they ‘betrayed her’ by letting something in her eyes.
“Yes.”
It was as Jing Yuan had tugged those pants down and out of the way that she grabbed his chin to lead him into a kiss. The taste of her still there, still lingering as her lips parted into a moan as for the first time it was his cock that filled her. That they were intertwined in a way that would make the Aeons themselves blush.
And it was in that moment as his hips moved to meet hers with a wet squelch that had him biting his lip not to moan too loudly and give away what they were doing to any of her neighbors in the dorms did the words I love you fill the air.
Her hands in Jing Yuan’s hair as she whispered them right back.
I love you.
I love you.
That's what she said to him as the wind whipped around from an awaiting ship. Luggage in her hand as she looked back between the people on board who were walking back and forth from the dock to a place Jing Yuan couldn't see with wooden crates full of provisions. Old nails clearly being the only things keeping the boxes together as he watched the cloud knights assigned to this mission just like she was.
Blue armor much like his own, but he wasn't one of the few that were chosen for this. No, (Y/n) was. A healer is always needed.
“I shouldn't even be gone long. At most maybe a year. Maybe two.”
Far from long in the eyes of a Xianzhou native, that's for sure. The denizens of the Luofu had their lives tick by as the humans who came to the ship for trade and sightseeing grew old and suddenly stopped showing up. All due to a very obvious conclusion. But two years without her?
“Why wasn't it someone else assigned? There's always Aihan.”
“That girl? She still gets squirmish during autopsies.”
Meaning no can do.
The stomping of boots continued as men tread back and forth. Some of the knights even stopped to give Jing Yuan a respectful nod or even a wave before continuing on with their task. His brothers in arms despite the fact he wasn't going to be besides them on the field this time.
“Besides, it's only Yaguoret. This should all be wrapped up quickly. At least compared to the thirty year missions some people are assigned to.”
A shrug, like this, wasn't a big deal at all despite the fact they both have been on a battlefield now. They both knew what it was like.
“Look Yuan, I'll be back in two years at max and when I arrive in your awaiting arms,” her hand slid along the blue fabric of his uniform, playing with the material she had sewed back together for his time and time again, “you can keep me all to yourself for a week. Just you, I, cute dates or… other things.”
“Two weeks.”
“One and a half.”
“Two weeks, prodigy.”
The two stared at each other for a moment before she finally sighed, shoulders dropping for only a moment.
“Fine, two weeks. I'll be all yours.”
Grabbing her hand, Jing Yuan locks their pinkies together. Silly, childish really, but it always worked when they were younger. Though it was mainly her wrangling him into compliance.
“Promise me.”
“I-I…..promise.”
So why was he now sitting in her room staring up at Jingliu listening to his master say something he never thought would be uttered?
The file boxes had been taken away, the bottles that had once reflected his own golden eyes back to him as Jing Yuan asked about the contents now missing, even the terrarium for Ingredients (Y/n) never bothered to get rid of was gone like it never existed in the first place. The dorm room is bare, hollow of the personality it had accrued over years of use.
Photos of them ripped from the walls leaving dark squares from the sun aging the wallpaper that once framed those cherished memories.
“What do you mean she's been exiled?”
“I mean exactly what I say, Jing Yuan. Miss (Y/n) of the alchemy commission, student to cauldron master Haize, has been exiled from the Luofu.”
Jingliu's hand moved to rest on the empty desk, brushing over the dust that had accumulated during the past three months that no one had properly cleaned this room. It was always something he intended to do, to keep up with making sure this place was as spotless as he could make it so she wouldn't come back to dust bunnies and a fit of sneezes, but work had been suddenly thrown onto him like something was amiss. Something massive had obviously happened, but he knew better than to ask when every time those who talked about it would shut their mouths the second even a wisp of his hair was seen.
“The fact she wasn't sentenced to death is a surprise.”
Because of course no one would want to talk to him about his own partner being….
“This is a mistake!”
Getting up from bed that creaked under him from the sudden movement Jing Yuan stood before his master, eyebrows pinched together to keep himself from outwardly scowling at the woman he owes so much to after years of training with the sword.
“You know her just as well as I do! She never would have hurt anyone like this.”
“When I knew (Y/n) best was when she was a fledgling. A kid, just as you are now. Letting your emotions blind your view of the truth will do nothing to help you.”
“I've known her for fifteen years. There's no way the same woman I know who takes spiders outside after finding them would be capable of murdering a hundred knights.”
(Y/n) can't even hold a sword properly. She is a healer, a woman who makes mixtures and applies bandages. Who presses kisses to his wounds as Jing Yuan tries to brush them off like they're nothing to avoid the bitter sting of hydrogen peroxide she would mercilessly apply to him with a smile like nothing was wrong. A woman like that holds no contest to men trained for combat. Some of those men that were sent out even had hundreds of years under their belt.
“Even if she poisoned them?”
Jing Yuan hissed out a breath at that, jaw tensed just the same way it would when the antiseptic met his braised skin.
“She's…she may be capable but that doesn't mean-”
“After the soldiers died the effects started to show in the village people that lived on Yaguoret. Even cauldron master Haize said it was the same symptoms the corpses of the cloud knights seemed to have gone through.”
Jingliu pulled her hand back from the desk, a small coating of dust on her fingers she brushed off.
“Haize has done everything he can with what he has, but the people native to that planet keep dropping faster than he can try and make new remedies.”
The two stared at each other for a moment, like Jingliu was waiting for Jing Yuan to finish what she was trying to say himself, but he bit his tongue. Refused to use it. He wouldn't say the words aloud.
“Only your partner would know the best way to go about making a poison that her own master could not find an antidote, or whatever those alchemy commission bunch need, to stop this issue in time.”
“The elders have decided this will be written off as a plague. That will be what is documented as to keep Haize from having his position looked at with suspicion, but he will be on thin ice from here on.”
What Jingliu wasn't saying is: it's a wonder the man is keeping his job at all.
“This isn't possible.”
‘She wouldn't do anything to risk her…and the promise.’
As it felt like his chest was being clawed at by an invisible hand winding its way through his mouth, past Jing Yuan throat, and ripping his lungs apart to grasp at his heart Jingliu placed a letter in his lap. The envelope it was in clearly had been torn open, but it was his name on the white parchment with the ‘I’ dotted with a heart.
Somehow the sight of it made it even harder to breathe.
“She left this behind for you, clearly. When they were cleaning out her room trying to find evidence that was stumbled upon.”
That would explain why her room is so empty.
The words why is it open then we're right on the tip of his tongue, but they both already knew the answer to that.
“Do you know its contents?”
Jingliu nodded at that, not saying a word as her red eyes flicked down to the torn apart packaging of something that was supposed to be meant for only him.
“Does it mention…”
‘Does it mention why?’
“It's best you read it yourself if you want to know.”
It was the force of habit alone that had Jing Yuan nodding as he was given one last glance by his master before she left him alone. Most likely he can process this thing on his own, but just the sight of it, the idea of what's inside, made him feel sick. Hell, he was half tempted to burn it and throw the ashes of what's left out the window so he can watch them dance on the wind the same way those specimens of belladonna and jimson weed got carried away.
Swallowing down the taste of bile licking at his tongue, Jing Yuan folded up the envelope and tucked it away in his uniform.
That… can be saved for another day.
A day for centuries later.
A day for when he was stopped short as a bird flew down and nestled upon the crook between his shoulder and golden armor piece strapped down to Jing Yuan's arm. Little chirps filled his ears as he walked through the streets of the Luofu. Sing song, a perfect background to his afternoon stroll as the few people he passed by on this path he's memorized after years of use bowed their heads.
Surely, if it wasn't for the upkeep on the potholes or cracks in the sidewalk he would have worn the shape of his boots into the white concrete long ago.
Another chirp and Jing Yuan looked down at the red beaked creature with a lazy smile. These things were always so comfortable with him, to the point he's even gotten a few comments from Fu Xuan about being a Disney princess. Something he just nods along with without complaint.
It was amusing how much his acceptance seemed to annoy her.
“Now, now, if you're too loud you might make this old man lose even more of his heari….”
His hearing.
But there he was stopped short, one foot in the air waiting to follow along the path only he knows the exact details of even as people try to record the goings and happenings of the Dozing General. Frozen in space, in time, like it was ice that kept him stock still and not a single image that came onto one of those many blue screens depicting today's news.
The words wanted written right under the white and red pictures of Blade, Kafka, and a woman Jing Yuan never thought he'd see again.
That old ache blooming in his chest again like a flower in a patch of dirt just waiting to be watered as her eyes were revealed to him. Even in a drawing meant to capture her image they never changed.
Teasin, inquisitive, and seemingly filled with thoughts he never had the neverending years to dig into like he was planting his own garden.
Wanted Stellaron Hunters.
Turning on his heel the bird that was nestled against him flew off, its wings flapping away as it took flight, and he was left to stride out of Starskiff Haven with his boots thudding their way back to the Seat of Divine Foresight as Jing Yuan tried with all his restraint not to break out into a full out run.
“You're dismissed,” is all he said as he entered those old walls, loud and clear for everyone inside to hear.
Heads turned his way, some immediately moved to leave, and the blond rascal of a kid he was so fond of came up to him only to hold his tongue as he saw the look on Jing Yuan’s face. A “very well, general,” threw his way as Yanqing followed everyone else out.
Jing Yuan didn't even notice the glance back to him as the doors shut.
Now it was just him standing there on the giant board surrounded by blue holograms, banners hanging from the beams up above, scrolls stored away in their exact places, and the lion statues he himself commissioned to be built in this place.
All alone.
Just like he was with a letter he never wanted to read as his feet carried him to that desk he hovers over day after day. Fingers moving along the smooth bottom to press a button that forced a drawer open. Thin, barely able to contain anything at all. When he first got this piece and requested such an addition the odd looks didn't bother him much, not when the carpenter didn't need to know what it was for. As far as he cared the simple phrase ‘official documents’ would have held enough weight.
But it wasn't some folder filled with the Xianzhou Luofu's darkest secrets, well, not fully anyway. Rather, it was a torn open envelope and the messy scrawl of his name.
‘Jing Yuan’ staring back at him.
Even after all these years later and his memories fade in favor of a blanket of mist keeping all those years locked away, he knew well enough she didn't like to refer to him that way.
It was Yuan.
It was her Yuan.
The paper felt odd in his hands, despite the amount of times he's pulled it out and debated opening the thing before it fades away to dust, like it was brand new. A clean sheet of paper despite it no doubt having passed through multiple hands before something that was rightfully his possession fell into his grasp for the first time. Fingers teasing over the ripped envelope as he pushed it aside and pulled out a folded note.
It wouldn't be too late to back out now, just how he has done a hundred times before as he failed to bite the bullet even his old master was able to, but then the image of her flashed in his mind again. The wanted poster was an accurate portrait, but it still felt like a character compared to the memories that were like a migraine that never ceased to ache.
‘Evolution didn't choose you, short stuff.’
‘Since when did it hurt to stop and smell the roses?’
‘I don't care if I'm busy, I'll find the time to go on that date with you. I promise.’
‘I love you.’
‘I'll be back in two years.’
A whirlwind of moments together, of her words, that had him just barely creasing the note.
The thought that she promised to come back quickly buried away as he, for the first time, unfolded the note he's kept all these years without her by his side.
‘Dear Yuan,
I have drafted this letter over ten times now and I can't quite seem to get the beginning of this right, so I think it's best just to get into the thick of things. You agree, yes? I hope you do.
I'm sure the news of what has happened (or is about to happen, if you're looking from my point of view) has reached you now. Is this a shock beyond words or did a part of you know this was going to happen? We do tend to let our unconscious selves be quieted and hushed away by emotions. Such is the way of any sentient creature whose instincts do not drive them. But you cannot look me in the eyes and tell me this was not something you would fully deny being something I am capable of if you weren't driven right now by what I can only guess is…betrayal.
I didn't mean to be your first heartbreak, my Yuan. No, I never wanted that at all. I wanted things to stay just the way they were when you'd take that wooden sword of yours when Jingliu hadn't yet given you permission to wield a real one and chase me around with it because I teased you too much. Or maybe back when we would turn rocks over a day after it rained so we can try and find bugs together.
Oh Yuan, I could list countless moments I wish time had chosen to freeze us both in so this outcome never had to come to pass.
But it did.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm not sorry for my actions.’
The words ‘I can't afford to be’ were crossed out.
‘Do you remember that night when we snuck into the gardens? I do. Very well at that. I hope you do too, just for different reasons. That night to me was being with you, of enjoying our time, until you brought up the mara-struck. Those creatures that plague us all at the end of our lives like a withering flower bound to end up as nothing more than a husk of itself as its body is preserved much like that one I keep with a red ribbon tied around it (the one you gave me when you tried to ask me out like a bumbling mess) pressed between pages as it's currently being used as a bookmark. The abominations, they have made me realize something you might not have yet.
Maybe those three years I have on you really do mean more than I would care to admit. Maybe in three years time when you are at the age I am now you'll realize this for yourself too. This war is never going to end. This war will taint what is beautiful in the world. We were blessed to have a loll in the time we were growing up, but that is only because of the sacrifices of many given for such peace.
But still, many died when our eyes were blinded by youth.
And when the battles did come you were a guard on some street in the Luofu as I was called out of my dorm to treat the few men who came back from their efforts in the middle of the night. Blearly, I was lacking sleep, but I did my job just as I always have. That is what I told myself when I had to dissect my first body at the age of fifteen. ‘Do your job, girly’ despite the fact I was surrounded by those older than me and even they cringed as Haize yanked some pubic hair from a corpse to store into a plastic bottle for proper collection.
It took a while for them to forget this thing before them, this hunk of meat, was dead and therefore couldn't feel pain. It took me a while too.
Back to the men…They would come in covered in blood, scratches that were left by creatures I never would have dreamed of existing before until they told me about them as I figured out all on my own how to detach a chewed up limb from a man without making it too painful.
They still passed out in the end.
One day you will know war, you will know what it's like to be on the battlefield for more than a skirmish, you will know the smell of the dead as all their bowels release and the smell of shit fills the air, just as I do now after having been called to be a medic in those poorly put up tents behind the fighting men.
Yet I don't want people to have to know about war. I don't want you to know about war despite you jumping at every chance to prove yourself as a Cloud Knight. I don't want those people of Yaguoret to know about war as we descended on their planet. But it is inevitable. They are a poor people who know little of what to do with the land they possess, and we are a civilization that sees their planet for the resources it has.
It was already discussed after the first talks with the people there after they turned away our offers of trade that they needed to be…wiped out.
Children, mothers, fathers who can't even put up a proper fight, let alone to a Cloud Knight.
So if you are wondering if I killed our men, the very people we talked with in the mess hall, or annoyed on the training grounds, or that I bandaged in the past, then I have to tell you I will.
They won't survive, of course they won't. What kind of prodigy would I be if I couldn't make a simple poison that would properly kill a man? Or a good hundred.
Sorry, I shouldn't be making jokes now. Force of habit.
There will be no war if the people trying to make a war are dead.
There is no way to enact change without sacrifices. That is how medicine is made. First someone must come to you with an issue, a sickness, and it is their loss of life that allows you to test the boundaries of this illness.
But that doesn't change the fact that I will soon become a murderer.
Somehow I am calm, at ease, yet the most scared I have ever been in my life.
But I have cast aside my alchemy commission uniform. Green never was my color.
I am no longer a healer. A murderer cannot claim that title.
So, as I said before, I won't apologize for my actions, but I'm sorry I had to face this world before you did, to come to my own conclusions. I can't help but wonder if I was younger, if I didn't have those three years on you, if we could find our own conclusions together. Ones that we could support side by side that wouldn't result in this.
I suppose what I'm trying to say is-’
And the last words, with a dried teardrop smearing the letters so they were barely legible as Jing Yuan had to narrow his eyes to read.
‘I am sorry I grew up without you.’
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star-hoon · 5 months
Text
OBSESSED (p. sunghoon) — PART 2
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I’M SO OBSESSED WITH YOUR EX
READ PART 1 HERE — MASTERLIST
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pairing: sunghoon x fem reader
includes/warnings (18+): best friend’s ex! au, SMUT (mdni), praise kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex (pls don't), ANGST, profanity, arguing, broken friendship (sorta)  (let me know if i missed anything!)
word count: 4.3k
synopsis: after sage catches you and sunghoon at the party, things change between all three of you. hidden emotions are unveiled and everyone does something they regret. the real question is...who?
author's note: omg thank you SO much to every person who read part 1! i'm so glad you guys liked it. this is dedicated to everyone who commented/requested for part 2 <3 you guys r all so sweet *hugs n squeezes*. pls look forward to my future works!
OBSESSED SOUNDTRACK
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“SUNGHOON?!” both you and the raven haired boy whipped your heads in direction of his name that didn’t even get the chance to leave his lips.
holy. fuck. it was sage.
the sound of red solo cup hitting the pavement seemed to echo despite the bass of the party still booming from the house with the silence that fell between all three of you.
you were an absolute deer-in-headlights taking her equally shocked and disgusted expression. she's never looked at you like that.
you and sunghoon instantly push off each other; you flattening down your skirt and he combed through his hair, as if that would help both of your situations right now.
you felt as if you had blood all over your hands at a crime scene. what the fuck?! out of all the boys on the damn planet it had to be him?!
sunghoon. sunghoon. you just made out with park sunghoon. SAGE'S park sunghoon. your best friend's ex.
his name and sage's expression replayed in your mind. you were so. screwed.
you could feel your heartbeat in your ears and it felt difficult to breathe. so much so, you barely heard sunghoon be the first to say something.
"s-sage? h-h-hey uh how have you been? shit that must have been awkward for you to have seen that. jake didn't tell me he invited you..."
sage completely ignored sunghoon's remark, tunnel visioning on you.
"you've GOT to be kidding me y/n..." she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, slowly approaching you.
you felt like a child who had just been scolded. you wracked your brain for something to say, but nothing came out. despite how close you two were, sage always intimidated you. she could be stubborn and had a short temper, that thankfully you've learned to tame over the past year. but you knew this was beyond anything you could save yourself from.
"l-look sage i-i'm sorry okay, i can explain-"
"shit- wait you two know each other?!" sunghoon interjected. he had no idea what he just got himself into.
sage broke into laughter, clutching her stomach for dramatic effect. "wow this just got FUN didn't it?! let's play a little game. on the count of three, say how you know the person to your left. and it's okay if a word doesn't come to mind."
the last sentence clearly meant for sunghoon.
her tone of voice was honestly scaring you at this point, and you could sense that both you and her were internally reeling at the words that will be spoken into reality.
best friend. ex. .....
you just stood there frozen and sunghoon turned to you, seeing your mortified expression.
even though you and him just met, he already felt protective over you and with how psychotic his ex was acting...he knew things weren't right. he stepped slightly between you and sage, trying to guard you from her piercing gaze.
but she was one step ahead and moved even more to her left so she was still fully in your line of vision.
"what the fuck is going on sage? just answer the goddamn qu-"
sage cut sunghoon off once again, "3..2..1"
"best friend. ex. ....." you and sage responded in unison.
it was silent for just a moment, as you all stared at one another.
"well glad we got THAT out of the way, hope that answered your question hoonie-" you recoiled at her use of the nickname. she was bluffing and it just made you angry at this point.
"how the fuck was i supposed to know he's sunghoon?! i swear on my life you walked by right as i asked his name-" hot tears started to blur your vision.
people walking by were staring and whispering but you couldn't give less of a shit. she scoffed at what she only believed was an excuse.
"oh give. it. up. y/n! you know what, that's the problem with you. you ALWAYS act so innocent and like you're just the shy girl next door. i know you've always been jealous me. so much so you basically fucked my ex aka the first guy you saw at a party. who would have guessed how much of a slut you are."
tears started to run rampant down your cheeks. you couldn't believe sage would say all of this to you. is that how she really felt?
she walked up and leaned down to whisper something in your ear before walking off, the clicking sound of her heeled boots fading.
you just stood there and covered your face, the tears never stopping. you just couldn't look sunghoon or anyone in the eye after how embarrassed and humiliated you felt.
"hey hey... shhh baby it's okay" sunghoon removing your hands from your face, using his thumbs to gently wipe the ruined mascara from your cheeks. the pet name just rubbed salt in the wound.
he comforted you with soft kisses to your cheeks. he knew you weren't okay, how could you be after all of that? but he didn't quite know else to do or say in this situation.
you shoved him off of you. sage's whispered words ringing in your ears.
"i'm sorry sunghoon, i- i have to go. this was a total mistake-" your hiccuping voice barely getting the words out. you couldn't even look him in the eye and you just wanted to be anywhere else but there.
"wait y/n" he grabbed your wrist before you could run away from him. "look i get it if you never want to see me again after this, but the least i can do is give you a ride home."
your lip quivered as you stared up at him. the way he looked at you was so gentle, a stark contrast to how he looked at sage just a moment ago. it made your heart ache.
usually you would just brush off the offer but you were such a wreck, you knew you were in no state to make it home by yourself.
you just gave him a silent nod and you two walked to sunghoon's car in silence.
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the silence persisted throughout the drive, aside from sunghoon asking for your address. sunghoon knew better than to ask questions.
your mind was anything from quiet, sage's whispered words replaying in your mind like a broken record.
"enjoy my sloppy seconds y/n, oh yeah...remember how i told you he said i was the best he's ever had?"
the sound of sunghoon opening his car door being the only thing snapping you out of your daze. he circled the car and opened your door for you.
"it's pretty late so i'll walk you to your door?"
'what a gentlemen' you thought. you felt like you were cinderella and he was your prince. but this was no fairytale.
you walked up the stairs, sunghoon trailing behind you. you stared at the faded blue paint of your apartment and turned around to part ways with sunghoon.
"thanks uh- for the ride. i'm sorry the night turned out like this-"
"i'm sorry about what sage said to you. she was hella out of line calling you those things..." you cringed at the memory. "...but what was the last thing she said to you?" you knew he was referring to what she whispered to you before she walked off.
you could not look him in the eye and tell him.
"she just told me to never text her again" you were sure your performance was convincing.
"y/n, please. tell me what she said. i know sage. i don't know what your guys' friendship's like, but if it's anything like while her and i were dating, she chooses her words wisely. she knows exactly what to say—especially if it's to hurt you."
shit, he read you like a book. you knew sage too. and you knew she would never lie or keep a secret from you—what she said must have been true.
"don't worry, that's what she said to me, promise."
he could tell you were lying, but you've been through enough in one night—he didn't want to cause a fuss.
"okay, just making sure" he huffed out a defeated sigh. "like i said, i get it if you never want to see again. but here's my number. i live only about a 5 minute drive from here so just in case you need anything or if anything with sage comes up, just gimme a call."
you stared down at his phone, contemplating for a few moments, but you eventually comply. a faint smile creeps on sunghoon's lips.
"for what it's worth y/n...i don't think tonight was a mistake. you made that party a hell of a lot more fun..." he chuckled trying to lighten the mood.
you couldn't bring yourself to quite say the same to him, so you just gave him a soft smile.
"thanks again sunghoon, goodnight."
you entered you apartment and made your way to your couch. you laid down and the threw your arm over your face, feeling tears threatening to fall once again.
you just curled up and drifted off to sleep, not even bothering to change your clothes or get ready for bed.
the only thing keeping you from losing your mind was the thought of sleep.
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you woke up the next morning (much to your dismay) and barely made it through the day.
you and sage have never fought like this. you both swore to never let something as stupid as a boy get between you two. so many questions swirled in your head.
is that really how sage felt about you all this time?
you get why she's pissed, but is she not even willing to hear you out?
is she willing to let go of your guys' friendship that fast?
you filled your day cleaning your apartment and running way too many errands—being busy always helped you in times of stress. eventually the sun was setting through the blinds covering your bedroom window.
you had no idea how to handle this entire thing. and it was something you certainly didn't want to deal with alone.
you stare down at your phone biting the inside of your lip, your finger hovering over screen.
you knew this could make things that much more complicated, but you needed someone talk to.
calling 'park sunghoon'....
after a few rings, he finally picked up. your heart was beating out of your chest.
"hey, may i ask who's calling?"
"h-hi s-sunghoon, it's y'n"
there was a pause. you were cringing at yourself for stuttering so much, little did you know sunghoon was smiling like an idiot from the other end.
"hey y/n, didn't think you'd actually call...wait did something happen? did sage do anything to you?" concern suddenly lacing his tone.
"no not all. i was just calling to talk, i'm just super stressed about all of this..."
he let out sigh of relief, he thought you could have been hurt.
"aw i'm sorry, yeah that makes sense. did you want to talk in person? i can come over."
"yeah, that'd actually be great, thanks." you heard the sound of him picking up his keys.
"of course, i'll be there 5"
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you open your front door after hearing a few soft knocks. you couldn't help but bite your lip at the sight front of you.
sunghoon wore a black hoodie, gray sweatpants, and glasses. a simple outfit but oh was it effective. you had to refrain from jumping on him right then and there.
"h-hey, thanks for coming over. sorry it was so late minute. please come in" you stepping aside and guiding him inside your apartment.
"yeah no problem. no need to apologize y/n, i was the one who offered to talk in person"
you just let out a soft laugh in response, cringing at your over-apologetic tendencies.
sunghoon smiled quietly watched you, finding it absolutely adorable how cute you were trying to be a good host. despite him being the one asking to come over and you two doing not so innocent things just the previous night.
you sit next to sunghoon on the couch. he scanned around your apartment, taking in all of your cute decor and trinkets.
"your apartment is so...cute. never would have guessed based on how you were acting last night" he smirked, teasing you.
you felt flustered as you felt your cheeks heat up.
"oh thanks" you looked down at your feet feeling shy. "yeah honestly i never really do that kinda thing at parties but i don't know, guess last night was different".
different he thought.
he just hummed in acknowledgment as a comfortable silence fell between you. it felt as if you both sucked in a breath in unison.
"y/n-"
"i-"
he speaks first, "of course you can rant to me about however you're feeling, but after thinking it over, i don't think you're in the wrong here y/n."
"she's my best friend sunghoon. and you're her ex boyfriend. is that not the first rule of girl code? i'm sure same thing applies to guys."
"okay sure i guess..." he licks his lips as he contemplates his next words "but sage and i broke up over a year ago. whatever we had, it's long gone. and unless she has lingering feelings for me, which i can tell she certainly doesn't, she should be more mature about this"
you nod silently, agree with everything he was saying.
"...and i know you were telling the truth when you told you had no idea it was me. because she quite literally was passing by as you asked for my name. so i genuinely think you did nothing wrong here"
"yeah that's true i guess" there's a pause as you take in his words.
"can i tell you what sage actually said to me last night?" you felt comfortable enough with him now to tell him and now were just more curious more than anything if what sage said was true.
"sage told me that you said she was the best you've ever had and i can enjoy her 'sloppy seconds'" you air-quoted the last two words with your fingers.
sunghoon's silence made your heart pound even faster. was it actually true? if so, this just made you even more embarrassed.
he eventually just scoffed which turned into a breathy laugh.
"oh man, sage sure is funny." he shakes his head at what you assume is disbelief. "i'm not sure if she got me mixed up with another park sunghoon, but i never said that."
you felt a huge weight was taken off your chest. sunghoon caught your sigh of relief.
"i'll be honest though, sage and i dated for a good amount of time, but i mean clearly we broke up for a reason. and i cannot stress enough that i do not have feelings for her at all. especially not after meeting you."
he puts his large palm on your knee, rubbing it soothingly.
you look down at the comforting gesture, a single tear falls down onto the back of his hand.
what the hell, why were you crying? sure, you were stressed about the situation but you didn't think it made upset enough to make you cry.
you had been beating yourself up about all of this since sage said those harsh words to you. you had started to believe that maybe what she said was true and that an ordinary girl like you had no business with a guy as like sunghoon. feelings of embarrassment, frustration, and guilt were eating you alive.
but after hearing sunghoon be in your corner, him saying you did nothing wrong, and finding out sage made up what she said somehow made you feel forgiven.
the small salty puddle on sunghoon's hand surprised you just as much as it did him.
he turns to meet your eyes, making you look at him "hey, what's wrong?" he pouts at your misty eyes, wiping the second stray tear before it could fall on your cheek.
"i-i'm sorry i don't even know why i'm crying. this whole thing was taking a bigger toll on me than i thought. just thank yo-"
he couldn't resist and crashes his lips into yours. his hand coming cradle the side of your face.
you let out a noise of surprise, not expecting him to kiss you so suddenly. you surrendered to him quickly though, not realizing how much you missed the taste of his lips. he deepend the kiss, his hand creeping up to thread through the hair at your nape neck, pulling slightly.
you let out a soft moan at the feeling, your parted lips leaving the perfect opportunity for him to slip is tongue into your mouth.
the sound of your lips smacking and heavy breathing filled the room. the heavy makeout eventually left you breathless. he pulled away but you still chased his lips.
he rested his forehead against yours signaling you he needed a breather. the eye contact and tension felt suffocating—the way you looked at him made his heart burst. your eyes were shiny were so shiny and wide, anticipating his next move. your cheeks flushed and lips slightly parted. your tank top and cotton shorts made his mind run wild. but he wanted to explore what was underneath.
he reached to remove your tank top and bra, and your shorts not long after leaving you in just your panties. he took off his shirt and hoodie, leaving him in just his sweats. the sight alone made you soaked through your panties.
he took in the sight on your almost bare figure on top of his, reaching to grope and feel your body. he attached his lips to your neck, sucking and biting the same sensitive spots he remembered from last night "you drive me fucking crazy y/n" he whispered against your skin.
his lips wandered down from your neck to your chest eventually taking a nipple into his mouth, the feeling of his hot tongue driving your desire for even into oblivion. he made sure to attend to the other one by pinching it with his other hand.
"f-fuck s-sunghoon..."
you began to grind on him, feeling his dick already hard through his sweatpants. his veiny hands wandered to the flesh of your outer thighs and hips, gripping your skin tightly savoring the feeling of your skin against his.
you pressed harder against him, finding the right rhythm of your hips on his, making him throw his head back, his eyes rolling slightly. the delicious sensation of your grinding his boner making him bite his lip staring at you. he crossed his arms behind his head, making his defined muscular arms even more prominent in the dim lighting of the room.
"yeah, grind on that dick baby, feel how hard i am for you?... see what you do to me?" his voice lower than normal, laced with nothing but lust.
"p-please..." you whined, his words making you work your hips even more fervently against his.
understanding your plea, he guided your back to lay flat on the couch climbing on top you, his arms on both sides of your head. the cold metal his delicate silver chain grazed the skin of your chest and neck, contrasting your hot skin.
you pulled him by the chain to kiss you again, your hands feeling his chest and biceps. his hands felt up your body once again, taking in every curve and dip from your breast to your hips, eventually playing with the hem on your panties.
"may i, sweetheart?" god, was he trying to make you fall in love with him?
you gave him a nod biting your lip. he slowly pulled your lace panties down your legs, creating a string of sticky arousal. you had never been so turned on in your life.
his fingertips ghosting the skin of your thighs, eyeing your bare body under his. you started to suddenly feel shy under his intense gaze, hiding your face in your arm and closing your thighs.
he gently pulled your arm away and tapped your knees to part your legs.
"don't hide baby, i wanna see your face, you're so beautiful...fuck you're so wet... all for me?"
"mhm...all for you- oh fuck" you breathily moaned as his fingers circled your clit, spreading your arousal. the feeling of his fingertips alone had your head spinning. he slowly inserted his fingers into your core, your walls sucking them in.
"jesus princess, you're so tight" he groaned as thrusts his fingers languidly, your juices starting to drip onto his palm. the squelching noise echoed in the room as you squirmed beneath him.
with the way that your back was arching and your walls clenching around him, he knew you were close. "you close sweetheart? wanna come all over my fingers?"
"fuck, yes please! your fingers feel so good. i- i wanna come" you whined desperately. his fingers speeding up as his thumb expertly rubbed your clit.
"such a good girl. come for me" a few more rubs from his fingers as your walls spasmed around him.
when he finally pulled his fingers out, you whined at the suddenly empty feeling. he kissed you once again, finding you all too adorable. "you did so good for me baby, ready for my dick?"
"please sunghoon, i need you" he pulled away taking off his sweats and boxers. the sight of his perfect cock made your mouth water: it was so hard, veiny, and red. his size making you question if he would fit in you.
he quickly climbed on top of you again, giving your cheek and neck light kisses while rubbing his cock through your folds, wetting his dick. when his tip grazed your clit you couldn't help but mewl at the feeling, your hands threading through his hair.
"fuck, please put in" you begged shamelessly. he bottomed out inside of you, biting his lip as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. he let you adjust to his size before thrusting slowly but deeply.
"s-shit you're so fucking tight y/n fuck" he groaned into your neck, leaving love bites. his could feel every vein of his dick and the fullness felt so good. so right.
his hands wandered to the small of your back, making you arch into him making him hit your g-spot. you nearly screamed into his neck at the feeling. his rhythm started to falter, your kisses getting messier and you were nearing your highs.
"s-sunghoon, please i'm c-close" you said in between whines and moans.
"fuck, me too sweetheart" he has never finished so damn fast during sex before but your pussy felt like it was made for him. he rubbed your clit once again, wanting nothing more than to give you the most pleasure possible.
"come on, be a good girl and come for me. cream all over my cock baby... you're better than she ever was". his words making the knot snap in your build up of euphoria. you moaned loudly a mixture of curses and his name, waves of pleasure washing over you.
sunghoon finished not long after, pulling out and fisting his dick to cum all over your stomach and thighs—making you his. he looked down at the sight beneath him and he never wanted to look away.
your head thrown back and jaw slack, your cheeks still flushed. your heavy breathing and still sensitive body twitching. he rubbed your clit to prolong your high until you pushed his hand away, feeling overstimulated.
sunghoon leaned down to give soft kisses to your lips and forehead, before running to the kitchen to grab a paper towel wet with some warm water to clean you up.
the way was gently wiping your skin, leaving kisses here and there made your heart ache.
"hoon..." his eyes immediately meeting yours at the pet name, his heart skipping a beat. "...can you stay the night?"
he smiled and pecked your lips, "i thought you'd never ask"
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sage eventually reached out to you 2 weeks after jake's party and you two made amends. she apologized for what she said and acknowledged that things will probably never be the same with you two, but still wishes you and sunghoon the best.
"so, how did the call with sage go?" sunghoon asked from your kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee. you and sunghoon continued to hangout almost every day since that first night, and the more you go to know him, the harder you fell.
you two started to grow so close that could tell what he was thinking and he didn't even have to say anything.
"well, things for sure will never be the same between us that's for sure, but i think we both got closure from all of this." you said with a sigh.
he walked over to you silently, his hair down and slightly messy from sleep. his fingers fidgeted around the coffee mug and his lips smacking together making the 'tsk' they always do when he's about to say something but holds back.
"did you wanna tell me something?" you gestured him to come closer to you. you put your hands around his neck and he put his around your waist. you leaned your forehead up to his and his lips quirked up on the side.
"y/n, will you go on a date with me?" you couldn't hold back a smile as you kissed him passionately.
who would have guessed you could be so obsessed with your best friend's ex?
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taglist:  @luv-jungwon106 @gudkc @gyuoonz
ramblings: literally had a fever writing the second half lol pls tell me if this is bad bc i cannot even tell also this is my first time writing smut so i apologize if it just wasn't smexy at all ahHH
+ (also sage is actively the worst in this part lol, she is saur annoying and lowkey crazy)
thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think <3
reblogs, likes, & comments are always appreciated!!
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totaly-obsessed · 5 months
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Love, Tears, and Laundry
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Leah Williamson x reader request
-> Leah comes home to find her oldest daughter upset, leading to heart-to-heart talks and a plan for a weekend getaway.
-> Thank you very much @alotofpockets for giving me the idea and help through the process!
-> Word count: 2.500
➳ Masterlist
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
While the Leah that stood on the pitch was fierce and stoic, a smile often missed on her beautiful face, the Leah you knew at home was quite different. Sure she was still fierce, but in a protective way, but she was much more soft than anything, so soft for her four girls.
At eight years old, Lilly was the oldest, followed by six-year-old twins, Emma and Olivia, and they were the light of the footballer's life, joined by you, her wife of course. Three kids of such different characters definitely filled the house with more life than it had ever seen before.
It had been a long day for your wife, a tough matchday with following meetings going over the game before everyone forgot what happened. Leah had been so excited to go home and see her girls again, but as soon as she opened the front door she knew something was off.
Emmie and Ollie sat in the living room, complete silence filling the house. Not a single little girl stormed towards her.
“Did you two watch the game?”
Silence.
“Oof tough crowd. Where's Mumma?” Tiny hands pointed up the stairs, grave expressions on their little faces. These aren't the happy little girls Leah had expected. Usually, they ran to the door, happy to greet their mother after watching her win on the telly, if they couldn’t be there in person.
The first room Leah checked was Lilly’s, who sat in the tightest corner of her room, one of her favorite books in her hand, granting her mother just a short glance, before she went back to her book, completely ignoring the defender.
This was officially the frostiest atmosphere she had ever come home to.
After going through the entire house she finally found you in the basement, sobbing while doing laundry.
You were sitting on the floor, surrounded by piles of clothes, shoulders shaking with sobs as you clutched a crumpled piece of paper in your hand. Leah's heart sank at the sight of you like this, her own worries about the girls momentarily pushed aside by concern for you.
"Hey, baby," she murmured softly, kneeling down beside you and gently wrapping her arms around your trembling form. "What's wrong?"
You looked up at her with tear-filled eyes, the distress evident in your expression. Without a word, you handed her the paper, and Leah unfolded it, her brows furrowing as she read the contents.
I really hate you right now Mommy.
"Oh, love," Leah whispered, her heart aching for both you and Lilly. She pulled you into a tighter embrace, offering what little comfort she could in that moment. "We'll figure this out together, okay? We're a team.”
Seeing you like this pained the defender - what had happened that you were handed that note?
“What happened, love?”
She had now sat down beside you, pulling you close to her side. A warm hand stroked your back in soothing motions, while the other guided your head into your wife's neck. The smell was familiar and comforting, simultaneously hiding you from the world - even if the world right now was just the laundry room.
“Lilly and I picked the twins up from training, got ice cream, and then went home.” You had to take a second, sobs still wrecking your body, as Leah tried to wipe away a steady stream of tears with small kisses all over your face. “Emmie and Ollie put your game on, just in time for the second half, and then Lils started shouting at them.” 
The blonde defender had trouble understanding you in certain parts, voice still thick with sadness. Lilly shouting at her sisters? A hard picture to imagine.
“A-And then I stepped in, she stomped upstairs and came back with the note, and -” a painful sob wrecked your body “and she yelled ‘I hate you’ in my face Lee.”
This sounded a lot more serious than Leah had expected if she was being honest. “I’m sure she doesn’t hate you, my love. How could she? You’re the best mother there is!”
Your tears subsided, but there were still wet streaks running down your puffy cheeks, breaking Leah’s heart even further. “I’ll talk to her. Wanna get a nice, warm bath?” A quick sigh left her mouth when she saw your shaking head. She should have known. “I can’t Lee. Have to finish this laundry.”
After thankful kisses from you, and helping you up, Leah made her way back up the stairs, passing the living room, where Emma and Olivia were still sitting quietly.
“I’ll go talk to Lills, yeah? Are you two okay here?” Both blondes nodded, not even looking at their mother. “We’re fine Mumma.”
With slow steps she walked up the stairs, playing a full 90 minutes was much harder now than it was when she was younger. She didn't just spend all her energy on a pitch, she had three beautiful daughters to play with and to parent - that takes a lot of energy.
“Lilly?”
She didn’t receive an answer, but quiet sobs led her through the long hallway all the way to the end where the room of her oldest daughter was. The colorful, hand-painted door was slightly ajar, letting the blonde know that it was pitch black inside.
“Darls? Are you in here?” She was no longer in her corner with a book.
The sobs got louder the closer she got to the bed, and after a quick tug at one of the colorful blankets that formed a mountain on her oldest bed gave the location away when she heard a surprised gasp.
The room got quiet, Lilly hoping that her mother would just leave her alone if she acted like she wasn't there. But Leah picked her up from her mattress, still wrapped in multiple soft blankets like she was a toy in a claw machine. 
Her oldest gave a small “Eeek!” of surprise before slumping into her mother's arms. Leah gave her best to make it playful, acting like she couldn’t find Lilly’s face, tickling her feet and talking to her hand before she finally unraveled the blankets. 
You always liked to say that looks wise, your oldest daughter could have been Leah’s twin. The blonde hair, the fair skin, and the twinkling eyes that usually were on her face. She also laughed the same and possessed the same hard-working spirit, determined to be top of the class while trying out as many hobbies as she could.
But right now, there was no smile on her face. Her little face was all red and puffy, tear streaks still on her cheeks, while her eyes were still glassy. And in that moment Leah was glad that you didn’t see the girl in her current state, knowing that it would have broken your heart even further. Right now she looked more like you - matching sad faces.
“I think we need to talk Lills.” With a whine, the eight-year-old tried to bury her face in her mother's shoulder after climbing on her lap, but the defender knew that she needed to have an actual conversation with her daughter. As gently as she could Leah pulled the small blonde from her hiding spot, sitting her down opposite from her on the bed.
“I’m sorry Mumma.” Small hands wiped at never-ending tears until Leah gave her a tissue and the water bottle off of her nightstand.
“What are you sorry for, darling?”
Lilly had gulped down nearly the entirety of the bottle before giving it back to Leah, who just watched in surprise at how thirsty her daughter was. Seems like crying takes a lot of energy out of such a small human.
“I- I was mean to Mama an- and I shouted. Was mean…”
With a soft coo, Leah pulled Lilly in for a hug, small arms squeezing her as hard as they could while soft puffs of air hit her neck.
“Thank you for apologizing Lilly, but I am not the one you should say that to darling.” Her oldest nodded, she knew that, but she also felt bad that Leah now had to calm her down. And she knew that Mama wasn’t doing too good either, she really had been mean. “I know Mumma. I will apologize to Mama, promise.”
“Can you tell me what happened, that you said those words to Mama?”
Leah could feel the deep breath that Lilly dragged in, before she sat up, leaving her mother's warm embrace. She gathered herself before trying to explain what happened.
“Mama and I picked up Emmie and Ollie from training, and I wanted to go to the bakery, but they wanted ice cream. A- and Mama said, that they deserved it for training so hard, b- but -” She took a little break from talking, her voice shaky as she was getting herself worked up again.
Leah handed her the water bottle again, warning her not to gulp it down. “But I wanted a croissant so badly, an’ I’ve been training real hard too.” She really had been training a lot, also following in her Mother’s footsteps but more in the gymnastics department as football wasn’t her thing.
“In the car, the twins were loud, like really loud Mumma. An’ Mama told ‘em to stop, but they didn’t” Sadly that was a regular occurrence that Leah had no clue of, her schedule didn’t allow her to pick them up or drop them off at training, so the energy after training was something new to her.
“At home, I wanted to watch my show - the one with the doggos, but Mama said that we had to watch you on the Telly. An’ I already missed last week and before that.” The defender kept nodding at her daughter, making little hums, to show her that she was still listening without interrupting her story.
“Mama didn’t want to watch my new floor skill that I learned yesterday. Said she was too busy makin’ dinner and laundry at the same time. Then you came home.” Lilly was done with her story, taking deep breaths and another gulp out of her bottle, finishing it off.
“Thank you for telling me, darling. But when did you shout at Mama and give her the note?” Now she knew why her daughter was sad and needed to figure out why her wife was sad. So she had to fish for the little details Lilly let out of her story.
The small blonde tried to avoid her mother's eyes, which looked a lot like her own, just less red and puffy. “When she didn’t wanna watch me.” Slowly Leah could make sense of what had happened.
“So you yelled at her, that you hated her, and gave her the note before you came up here?” Lilly’s head hung deep in shame when she nodded, She really regretted what she had said to her Mama. “Yeah.”
“Do you want to go and say sorry to Mama? Explain how you feel. Then we can talk about how we fix this, but you really hurt Mama.” 
“Yeah.”
Hand in Hand the two blondes trotted down the stairs, where the living room was filled with a little more life than it had been before, but you were still nowhere to be seen. But the twins were quick to tell their big sister that you were in your and Leah’s bedroom.
“Mama?” The room was dark when she pushed the door open, gripping the handle like her life depended on it. When she looked back at Leah she just got a thumbs up with a wonky grin, trying to gesture to her that she should go in.
“Yes, Darling?" She could hear your shaky voice, it was so similar to her younger sisters, that it was almost uncanny. Lilly had also never seen you cry because of sadness before - aside from sad movies, while your wife kept laughing at you.
With slow steps your oldest daughter made her way to the bed, stopping just in front of it as she held her hands out. Tears started to form again in your eyes - Leah does the same thing when you’re sitting on the bed or the couch. She stands in front of you and holds your hands while keeping intense eye contact, letting you know that her entire focus is on you. And now Lilly does the same. She really is an observant little girl.
“I wanted to say sorry Mama.” Her small hands were clammy and warm, showing her nerves as she gave her best to keep her voice steady. “And I would like to explain if you’d listen to me.”
“Of course darling.” You had pulled her up on the bed and instead of just sitting and looking at you, she promptly pushed you into the pillows and cuddled into your side, her eyes still focused on your face.
The 8-year-old poured her heart out to you, just like she had done to your wife, who was now trying to keep the twins busy with little ball games in the living room while you and Lilly talked in the comfort of your bed. 
Leah felt like a creep as she pressed her head to her own bedroom door after giving you 30 minutes together, trying to listen for any sounds that could indicate more tears - but it was silent. With a gentle knock, she opened the door.
Lilly was sprawled out on top of you, eyes still open as she quietly whispered her gymnastic stories to you, while one of your hands brushed through her hair. Leah was honestly surprised that both of you were still awake, this had been a lot.
“Hi, girls!” Her oldest daughter sat up quickly, opening her arms, gesturing for her mother to join you on the bed. “Baby I wanna say something real quick, okay?” Lilly nodded her hair still a mess, no matter how much you bushe’d it with your fingers.
“It was never our intention to ignore you, or your needs and wishes - and Mama and me, we are very sorry.” A smile took place on Lilly’s face, she could see and feel that both you and Leah genuinely meant it. “Thank you for apologizing.” You couldn’t help but laugh at how much she sounded like her mother, with the same tone, eyes, and light smile on her lips.
As gently as you could you caressed her cheek, brushing over it with your thumb as your daughter leaned into your touch. “And we are very proud of you, and we are super glad that you told us - even if the way there was a little complicated.”
All three of you had to giggle but stopped abruptly when something loud crashed downstairs. “What do you think of me calling Grandma and see if she’ll take the little troublemakers for the weekend, and we’ll do something together? Just the 3 of us?”
The smile finally reached Lilly’s eyes again, as her grin mirrored that of the defender. “Yes please, Mumma!”
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radiocrypt-id · 8 months
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The bad kids haven't really looked too closely at the Rat Grinders (meta wise I know it's a commentary on different play styles and how shitty xp farming is and how op players/parties can become by doing the bare minimum if they put in the time while everyone else plays the damn game) but I find the split perspective problems absolutely fascinating. I can't wait for the Bad Kids to look at the Rat Grinders with envy and anger that the Rat Grinders got to live a normal highschool life without all this insane danger and experience being a teenager without it being the end of the world for them. Right now they just hate the Rat Grinders energy and are matching it back (which is a very high school thing to do. To have beef with a whole other group of kids and not even know why but you'll die on this hill because they started shit first)
Because to the Rat Grinders, from a purely outside perspective, the Bad Kids are fucking monarchs of the school, right? They skipped classes, ran around town, fought people, got arrested, hung out with a big devil? Every new staff member came at their recommendation? One of them has both her dads working at the school?? The destroyed school property, got teachers killed, straight murdered the coach? These fucking kids run around and are apparently scott-free? because the principal liked their chaos enough to let it go and help them avoid the police? To the Rat Grinders, the Bad Kids are untouchable. They're exempt from the law. They're liars, cheats and need to be humbled. It's unfair. From everyone elses perspective, it really does look like the Bad Kids have been given crazy favourtism.
Meanwhile, all of the Bad Kids have died at least once. They've been irreparably changed and are in a constant state of fight or flight. They assume everything is dangerous and anyone might be an enemy because for two goddamn years that was the exact case! They couldn't trust any adult first year! Literally anyone could have been infected with Kalina second year! who knows what happened with the Night Yord but I fucking bet they had issues with Yorbies pretending to be helpful just to kill them! Everyone, for two years, has been out to get them! They can't even sleep! And now they have to grind so hard or they fail. Adaine has a seemingly full time job after school basically every day because she literally can't afford to live? Fabian has taken on the most physically strenuous classes and sport one dude could and has dreams of also being a social legend because he's fucking lonely in that big house and he just wants to fill it. If anyone in the party fails or dies Riz is shit out of luck and wont ever get into a university? He so desperately wants his friends with him so he's working over time and ignoring his limits to make up for his party members not caring about the future. Fig is going through the strangest arc I've ever seen in my life? she's hard avoidant and taking three classes, so a 250% work load, because she's desperate to fill her time so she can't think about all the other work she has to do that if she ignores too long could crush her under the debt of her band from her label, or how alone she feels without her girlfriend around. Gorgug is so desperate to prove himself that he's doing four years of school work in one, trying to play catch up and also prove himself at the same time, he's taking it all so seriously but also is so fucking tired. And Kristen. Mother fucking Kristen "hey girlie" applebees. Expected to dedicate her life to a god with no direction, with the weight of failure being her gods death, while also being in school and also at your friends insistence needing to run for student body president and getting your priorities so mixed up and being completely left behind by her peers who didn't have to rework their entire world view and understanding of life in the span of a few months every few months.
The Bad Kids are in a terrible place. They're suffering. I want them to just say it out loud, to stop pretending they have it handled and are fine. I want Riz and Adaine to yell at the party to get their shit together. I want Fabian to tell someone how alone and abandoned her feels. I want Kristen to scream at Cassandra that she agrees, that it's not fair, she's just a kid, how could she be enough all on her own with no help? It sucks a god can only rely on a child, for both the god and child! They're both suffering from this arrangement! Neither is happy! I want Gorgug to beat the shit out of Porter with his inventions and rage at the same time, to make the best shit and use it in the most stunning way anyone has ever seen. I want Fig to finally get some freaking help, to have her teachers and parents reach out in a meaningful way and stop telling her to figure it out alone because clearly the pressure is too much for her to handle and she's drowning. I want someone, anyone, to look at the Bad Kids and tell them to stop. To help them. But I know it wont be that easy. I know it'll be the Rat Grinders yelling at how unfair it is the Bad kids get everything while they're on the sidelines that'll get under the Bad Kids skin and they'll yell about how awesome they are and that they didn't ask for any of this shit to happen to them and to fuck off. I know it's gonna get so much worse before it gets better. I know they'll figure it out and that it'll be a painful road there.
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jiminrings · 2 months
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four seven eight, phase three: intermission 02.
wordcount: 2k
glimpse: yoongi's never thought of having a family before — until now.
alternatively, yoongi rethinks what he could've had with you while babysitting hwayoung.
[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale — complete series masterlist, from phase 1 to 3 ]
“Why would I refuse to look after Hwayoung?” Yoongi had uttered then, his voice still groggy after being rudely awakened by your call, even if he knows he’s set up your contact to bypass every do not disturb mode that his phone has. “She’s your kid.”
The call that you had made with Yoongi in an ungodly hour (atleast for him as a bachelor) is what made you end up at his doorstep with baggage that’s heavier than both of you combined, his whole house rearranged, and his life completely changed.
Hwayoung, even if she only kissed you and Jungkook goodbye with no tears at all just this morning, is a different person altogether now that Yoongi’s trying to get her to sleep.
“Come get your milk, sweetheart,” he coaxes once again, dangling the bottle in front of Hwayoung for her to take. He knows she’s attentive enough for her to deliberately ignore him, and Yoongi chuckles in remembrance of your stubbornness.
He leans on the couch for the meantime, hand still outstretched for Hwayoung to take her bottle from in the event that she listens to him. Yoongi’s not frustrated, not at all — if anything, he just feels a little incompetent.
He can’t be stern with your daughter and he can’t fool her either. He can’t devise a foolproof plan for anything and yet you trust him with her still, your only instructions to him detailing about her feeding times.
Yoongi’s inexperienced at this compared to Jungkook. He’s at the bottom of the food chain and if the only fight that existed in his life was to look after Hwayoung the best, then Jungkook would’ve eaten him right up and spat him out.
Yoongi gets it: he’s neither a husband nor a father. He doesn’t have the instincts that Jungkook bears for both of his girls and the realization of that refuses to settle in his stomach. 
“What’s going on, hm?” he asks Hwayoung as soon as she settles down beside him, wordlessly taking the bottle from his hand. It may have only took half an hour and an enormous amount of pleading from him (along with a hundred other thoughts of how if this was Jungkook, he could’ve easily had Hwayoung already sleeping at a snap), but Yoongi gives himself leeway.
“Is my Young-ie feeling down?” he hums, seeing the small frown on her lips that he can’t attribute to her bouncing around the walls.
Yoongi’s heart stings for a second looking at your daughter like this, but he convinces himself that this was the best possible decision at the moment — that he’s the best possible fail-safe you can run to.
“Mama. Appa,” she lists, wiggling her feet as she sighs. Hwayoung’s a little restless but she can’t be blamed, the anticipating eyes that follow Yoongi after she uttered your names making him feel a little guilty.
He’d make both you and Jungkook appear (and maybe even reconcile, but his pride doesn’t want that that yet) in front of her if only he could do that.
“I know, sweetheart. They’re gonna come get you soon though!”
Hwayoung’s eyes widen at the promise of soon.
Yoongi doesn’t feel like himself as he looks at her. He feels like he’s floating in the sense that he doesn’t actually know what he’s doing and that he’s running on something he can’t place a finger on; something less than instinct yet more than obligation.
He doesn’t know what he’s doing or if he’s even doing anything correctly, but even as he’s sat on the floor with his phone face-up and his mother on speed dial to ask what he should do about Hwayoung, simply because Yoongi’s pride can’t stand bothering you and adding to your burdens, Yoongi can grasp for a second on what it feels like to have a little human depend on him.
To have a little human who regularly asks him questions he usually doesn’t have answers to, except for now.
“Don’t — don’t love me?” Hwayoung pieces together, her brows furrowed together as she tries to gauge for an answer.
“That’s nonsense, Young-ie,” Yoongi immediately refutes Hwayoung, the answer he’s giving her now being the most absolute thing he’s ever been sure of. “They love you. Like thiiiis much,” he coos, spreading his arms wide. “They just have to leave for awhile because they love you enough not to-…”
Yoongi pauses, not because he’s unsure of his explanation to the child, but because said child takes his widened arms as an invitation for a hug.
He can wrap his head around how Hwayoung is yours, but he can’t go over the fact that she isn’t his.
“Not to put you in the middle of everything,” he adds belatedly, clearing his throat as he pats Hwayoung on the head gently, softly, because he doesn’t know how to react.
Hwayoung doesn’t question the cautiousness that Yoongi takes with patting her head and taking the empty bottle away from her. She doesn’t question the softness in his tone as he explains why you and Jungkook can’t be there for her. 
Even as Yoongi tries to move as slowly as he could to try and tidy up the floor without breaking her hug, but ultimately failing, which leads him to stand up completely to get to work, Hwayoung doesn’t question him.
“Miso’s napping already. You wanna join her?” he asks, pointing to the sleeping cat at the corner of his sofa that she’s definitely turned into her scratching post. 
Hwayoung frowns at the cat she usually has the most endearing eyes for, and by then, Yoongi wants to call Jungkook.
He doesn’t want to call you or his mom or any maternal figure he can run to, but he wants to call Jungkook instead. Yoongi, despite his enormous pride, wants so badly to call your husband and ask him what he should do because he knows the little girl best.
He wants to give up his couch to Miso who’s threatened to kill him four separate times today. He wants to give up his house slippers to every block that Hwayoung plays with so atleast something of his is indented with the memory that a child, your child, had made his walls shake with laughter as he mistakenly steps on the tiny toys. 
Yoongi wants to give up his pride to Jungkook just so he’d know how to remove the indescribable frown on Hwayoung’s face.
“Gi?” she calls, trying his name again because she can’t understand honorifics just yet. “Yoongi?” she asks softly, arms outstretched as if she’s reaching for the sun. “Up, please.” 
Yoongi doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t know anything about being a dad in the slightest, but with the way his heart tugs and how his eyes soften and how his arms immediately curl by the pressure, Yoongi wants to believe otherwise, no matter how delusional he feels. 
Hwayoung doesn’t ask why he immediately carries her like he’s being timed for a world record, and she doesn’t ask either why Yoongi’s eyes are glassy.
“You really, really look like your appa,” he mutters, voice lilting to a chuckle as his eyes glaze over his poor attempt at making pigtails. “But you have the heart of your mama, don’t you?” 
Hwayoung smiles at the mention of your name, cheeks squishing as she presses her head to Yoongi’s shoulder in the same way she does with Jungkook.
Hwayoung’s so tiny this way. So unguarded yet at the same time, secure in Yoongi’s arms.
He’s not a dad so he wouldn’t know about Jungkook’s late night feedings and diaper changes, nor would he know about your husband’s sleep deprivation and constant grappling for his identity outside of being Hwayoung’s dad.
He doesn’t know that the constant turmoil that unfolds within him as the temporary guardian of your child grows tenfold as her actual parent. He doesn’t know the insecurity that you and Jungkook possess because nobody, not even Hwayoung herself, knows how dim you feel being surrounded by such light.
Yoongi doesn’t know shit. He doesn’t know what it feels like having somebody waiting for him at home or how it feels to live and exist for anyone else outside of himself. He knows nothing and yet at the opportunity for him to somehow stand in as Jungkook, a small part of him grows tired at feeling clueless.
A much, much larger part of him grows jealous of Jungkook.
What Yoongi feels but doesn’t know to himself is that Hwayoung no longer weighs anything to him. She doesn’t physically weigh in the same way a child in daycare would weigh to a teacher, and she doesn’t weigh as the baby you put in his arms when you allowed your closest friends to see her.
Yoongi’s familiar with Hwayoung to the point that he’s neither afraid to hold her nor paranoid to support her neck; to the point that Yoongi doesn’t get annoyed that Hwayoung’s hands are sticky like every other toddler’s from playing with toys, or that his shirt is somehow stained too without knowing the exact reason why.
Yoongi just feels, even if he doesn’t know, that he wants a family.
He doesn’t know the specifics. He doesn’t know when he’ll settle down or how much of his career would he sacrifice. He doesn’t know how he’ll balance everything or how great he’d be in being attuned to his partner. 
He doesn’t know how he’ll go about being a dad yet he’s scared shitless. 
“You’re really her kid, Young-ie,” Yoongi whispers, poking her cheek softly.
If only Yoongi had acted a little faster — if only he had come into terms sooner that what he felt for you was already serious and wasn’t just a pastime after spending so much time with you, then Jungkook wouldn’t have beat him to it.
Yoongi could’ve been in Jungkook’s place. 
He could’ve been Hwayoung’s dad, even.
The tiny, rational part of him makes him rethink if Hwayoung would even be Hwayoung without Jungkook in the picture at all, but he shoves that picture into the back of his mind. Instead, Yoongi cups his hand as he tries to get your daughter to sleep in his arms.
The large, irrational part of him comes into terms with the fact that even if Hwayoung is solely herself because of you and Jungkook — he doesn’t mind being her family at all.
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