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ihavemanyhusbands · 4 months

Text

Vidas Pasadas (Past Lives)

Gif by @doortotomorrow

PART TWO: REMINISCING

Also on AO3

Part One // Mini-Series Masterlist

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Latina!Reader (Spanish speaking)

Song inspo (used in chapter): Cuando Vuelva a Tu Lado - Eydie Gormé & Trio Los Panchos

WC: 2.8k words

Chapter Summary: Shifting between the past and the present, there are two sides to your relationship with Cooper… even if you’re unaware of who he is now.

Warnings: MINORS DNI THIS FIC IS 18+, implied mutual pining, slowburn-ish, angst, canon typical violence, abduction (by raiders), swearing, smoking (it was common in hollywood back in the day dont get mad at me), some Spanish dialogue with translations, the ghoul being the ghoul, also reader gets bonked in the head by a raider, let me know if I’m missing anything otherwise!

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In the past….

It was the very last scene of the film.

You and Cooper were riding horses off into the sunset, awash in romantic, golden lighting. He had saved the day, once again, and the girl to boot.

Not that the girl needed any saving, he didn’t think, but you already made that very apparent on screen. He wondered if the writers would ever make a version where you saved him.

“So, your lone ranger days are over, huh?” You asked, glancing at him.

He grunted, a smile starting to pull at his lips. “Can’t say I’ll miss ‘em.”

“That so?” You hummed in thought. “Thinkin’ of settlin’ down, are you?”

“I got my own ranch, if that’s what you’re askin’. But I ain’t retirin’ yet,” he said. “But if you’re askin’ if I’m thinking of going steady with you, well…”

You rolled your eyes playfully, inching your horse closer to his. “Oh come on now, don’t leave a girl in suspense!”

“I wouldn’t have gone through all that trouble if I didn’t want you around, now would I?”

He smiled that dazzling smile of his, and the butterflies fluttering in your stomach were genuine.

“Oh, amor mío…”

You pulled him in by his shirt and kissed him to seal the deal. It was sweet, passionate, and full of promise. Cooper’s hands cradled your face gently, and for a moment you forgot you were in the middle of a film shoot.

But when the director called Cut! and the cameras stopped rolling, you pulled away with a laugh.

“I don’t think we’re allowed to use that much tongue, Coop,” you said, raising an eyebrow at him.

“God, the crowds will be scandalized!” He said, not sounding concerned in the slightest. “Here comes Ernie.”

“Electrifying take, you two,” Ernie, the film’s director, said with a little wag of his eyebrows. “But let’s tone it down in this next take, alright? Trying to keep this picture for all audiences.”

“Alright, alright, go get the lady some water, why don’t’cha?” Cooper said, waving him off. “Looking this good on camera all day is tiring.”

You chuckled, bending down as a makeup artist rushed to your side to retouch your powder. A production assistant followed suit, bringing two water bottles for both of you.

You took a long pull from yours, accidentally spilling some down your chin. Cooper’s eyes were momentarily drawn to the thin rivulet of water traveling down your neck as you cleaned up with a handkerchief.

“Say… you didn’t get uncomfortable with the amount of tongue, right?” Cooper asked, averting his gaze and clearing his throat nervously. “I got a little carried away, but I'll keep myself in check from now on…”

“Oh, please, Coop,” you said with an all too casual shrug. “All part of the job. Plus, it wasn’t just you who got carried away.”

He didn’t say anything, taking a sip of water instead. In all the years you’d worked together, he’d cherished your friendship immensely. But he had to admit that having a more intimate knowledge of you made it impossible not to feel the echo of something more. Something he had deeply repressed so as not to acknowledge it.

He was ignorant that you were in the same position, valuing what you had instead of listening to your foolish heart. You’d had a few partners, distractions here and there, but no one ever seemed to be quite right. Better to be alone than to settle for just anyone, right?

“Been meanin’ to tell you,” he said, changing the subject. “Barb’s been askin’ when you’re gonna come over for dinner. Janey misses your arroz con leche.”

Your lips curled up at his accent, which always managed to have the same effect on you. “How about Saturday? I think we’ve got the day off then.”

“That’s perfect.” He leaned in closer and lowered his voice, as if pretending to share a secret. “Truth be told, I’ve missed it too.”

You shook your head with amusement, those damn butterflies stirring in your stomach once more.

“Back to one now, please!” Ernie called from his chair across the set.

The two of you took your original positions, slipping back almost naturally into the role of lovebirds.

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

The Present…

You were humming to yourself again. An old bolero tune that took him a few notes to recognize.

“Cuando vuelva a tu lado, no me niegues tus besos, que el amor que te he dado, no podrás olvidar.”

(When I’m by your side again, don’t deny me your kisses, for the love I have given you, you won’t be able to forget)

It was the song you’d sang in one of your films, in a scene where he saw you for the first time. A little musical number to show off your skills, your voice. He’d been genuinely hypnotized, he recalled.

The recognition hurt him a surprising amount, and he couldn’t bear to listen anymore.

“Quit it,” he snapped, making you cringe. “You wanna alert others of where we are?”

“S-sorry, just something I do to distract myself…” you said, pursing your lips.

“That’s why they want you in New Vegas?” He asked. “Pretty little songbird of their own?”

“You keep complimenting me while making it sound threatening,” you said before you could think twice about it, immediately wishing you could take it back.

He let out an amused huff. “It’s all part of the charm.”

Charm, alright. You thought as you raised an eyebrow.

“To answer your question… Yeah, that’s exactly why they want me there. Signed the dotted line on that a long, long time ago.”

“And if you don’t make it there?” He asked. “What then?”

You slowed your pace, fearful of what he might be insinuating. “Well… then I guess they would be out of luck, but not money. Washed up movie star like me, I don’t think I’d cost them very much.”

“Oh, I doubt that very much. ‘Round these parts, we only got the past to escape to,” he said with a grunt. “Not to mention, you’re quite easy on the eyes.”

You swallowed hard, face heating up as you glanced back at him over your shoulder. You caught his roguish grin, which only made you even more flustered. The compliment was genuine enough, but you still weren’t sure how to take it.

“And you haven’t even seen me all dolled up,” you joked half heartedly, which prompted him to hum in thought.

And there it was again, that feeling that you were missing a crucial piece of the whole puzzle. There was a certain familiarity to his voice, but maybe you were just hearing what you wanted to hear.

“So I am going to make it there, then?” You asked. “I’m sure they’d also repay your kindness if you delivered me relatively unscathed.”

“That’s the plan, sweetheart. Was just makin’ conversation,” he said, but his tone was borderline noncommittal.

You lapsed into silence for a few minutes and stared out at the arid plains endlessly unfurling before you. You passed by a cluster of ruined houses, the wind whistling a melancholic note as it passed through smashed windows and yawning door frames.

Even before the great war, the world was not an easy place to navigate by oneself. Sure, there were plenty more precious commodities, but you never learned all of the rules of life.

Out here, you weren’t sure you’d be able to either, but in a way, it was kind of nice to have a clean slate. If all went well, then maybe you’d make more choices you hadn’t been brave enough to make in the past.

The urge to sing rose within you once again, but you tamped it down.

“It’s ironic,” you found yourself saying, a wry smile pulling at your lips. “I starred in a couple of westerns, but I never thought I’d have to brave the actual desert. Feels like I’m finally living the real deal, in a way.”

“That so?” The ghoul drawled. “You have a thing for cowboys or somethin’?”

“Can’t say I don’t,” you confessed, a shade of nostalgia in your voice. “Or at least I used to, for one in particular.”

This stunned him into momentary silence. Surely, you couldn’t be implying… He shook his head, not letting himself believe it.

To hide his shock, he placed a hand on his chest and pretended to be hurt. “Oh, you wound me. I’d have thought I’d make the cut.”

You chuckled despite yourself, starting to enjoy the strangely easy banter between you. The ghoul certainly was a threatening presence, but so far he had been all bark no bite… with you, at least. Poor Sabinez, who had been in your nightmares a few times, would definitely disagree.

You didn’t really need to ask why the ghoul had killed him, having gone to collect the bounty with him, but it wouldn’t have been worth it, anyway. He had a bit of a temper and not much patience to boot, so you knew you had to tread carefully.

You definitely had to stay on his good side. It was a matter of life and death, at that point. But luckily for you, he had moments like this, where he was almost friendly, in his own way. It’d be easier to cling on to those while traveling with him.

As the sun began its slow descent towards the horizon, he led you to a small cluster of rundown houses. He checked each to find just the right one, nestled among the others, and made sure there were no unwanted visitors.

You set your stuff down and slumped down on top of a broken side table, taking off your scarf and drinking water from your canteen. The ghoul watched you, something old and buried within him threatening to rise to the surface. You really hadn’t changed, but that shouldn’t surprise him.

“Alright, Toots, now you jus’ stay put while I go scope the area,” he said, needing some time away to think.

“But we–”

“No,” he interrupted, giving you a pointed look. “I know you’re smarter than that, now. Let me do what I need to do, or I’ll make you stay put.”

You pursed your lips and nodded. He let out a satisfied grunt and left without another word, the soft clink of his spurs soon turning into silence.

With a tired sigh, you pushed yourself off the side table and tried to figure out where the best spot to sleep was.

As it grew darker and you ran out of things to occupy yourself with, you went outside to get a good view of the sunset. You didn’t stray too far from the house just in case, but it was nice to get some fresh air.

You didn’t know how long he would be gone for, but you felt relatively safe in total solitude. You let yourself sing then, another soft bolero tune that you had always liked. You lost yourself in the threads of time as you imagined the accompanying instruments, unsure if you would ever hear them again.

But suddenly, rough arms enveloped your midsection, and a gruff voice you didn’t recognize was in your ear.

“Gotcha.”

You tried to twist around, but the grip was too strong. You kicked your legs as he easily picked you up, your eyes wide and afraid, brain scrambling for a solution.

The raider laughed, turning to yell over his shoulder. “Hey, boys! Look what I’ve found!”

Raiders, you realized, ice pooling in your gut. He smelled foul and his makeshift pieces of armor dug painfully against you. He tried to move your head to the side to get a better look at you, but you bit his hand, hard.

He growled with pain, yanking his hand away. “Fucking bitch.”

He hit you on the side of the head and you slumped in his grip, half conscious. Stars pinwheeled in your vision as you heard others approaching, and he tossed you over his shoulder to carry you fireman style.

“Thinking we could get a good price outta this one,” the raider said. “Mint condition, too. Just gotta keep her in check.”

“Got a pretty voice, too. Called us right here like a siren,” another raider said. “Maybe she can keep us entertained for a few days before we sell her.”

Your dread only deepend. The ghoul specifically told you not to sing, hadn’t he? And now you couldn’t even yell for help. Stupid, so stupid!

A gunshot rang out, hitting the wall inches away from the raider carrying you. They all jumped to attention, hands flying towards their weapons.

“You fellas better stay where you are if you wanna keep your fuckin’ heads,” you heard the ghoul’s voice, tight with rage, in the near distance.

“Oh shit, we’ve got company, we better go,” he said, your body jostling as they started to move. “Shoot it back!”

More gunshots followed as you swam in and out of consciousness, everything moving too quickly. One of the raiders yelped before collapsing heavily, most likely dead.

You begged and prayed that the ghoul would come out of this relatively unscathed — he was your only hope for salvation, after all.

Behind you, he screamed your name, but you couldn’t recall having ever told him.

—----------------------------------

The Past….

Truth be told, wrap parties weren’t always your favorite events. But this time, it was at Cooper and Barb’s house, so it wouldn’t be all bad.

You posed for paparazzi at the front door before making your way inside. The party was in full swing, Hollywood’s elite mingling all around the place. Music softly drifted out of unseen speakers, almost drowned out by the din of various voices.

You took a glass of champagne from a nearby waiter, searching for the hosts. You stopped a couple times to exchange a few words with some producers you knew, but then you spotted Cooper coming down the stairs, a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

“Got another one of those?” You said when you finally reached him, bringing him out of his thoughts.

He took out his silver case and offered it to you. You brought the cigarette to your lips and he immediately lit it for you, covertly taking you in. You wore a beautiful sequin evening dress, which sparkled under the light of the chandelier. Your perfume was heady and sweet, lingering in his nostrils. Your red lipstick left a mark on the filter as you exhaled a plume of smoke, smiling at him.

“Great party,” you said. “Congratulations on the new picture, Coop. Can’t wait to see it.”

“Gee, thanks,” he said, smile not quite reaching his eyes. “If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have thrown one at all, but Barb wanted me to meet some of her colleagues.”

“Oh, Vault-Tec people are here?” you asked, looking around. “You just did a commercial for them, too, right?”

“Yup,” he sighed, voice lowering. “Lost myself another gig because of it.”

You hummed in thought and took another drag of your cigarette, unsure of what to say. You didn’t altogether trust Vault-Tec, perturbed by the way they were trying to make a profit off potential doom.

Still, you didn’t really know of any good alternatives for survival, if that day were to come. The government didn’t seem too concerned about it, after all.

“You probably think I’m a sell out,” he said, misinterpreting your silence. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

You shook your head. “No, that’s not it. You’ve got a family to take care of, Coop. You gotta do what you gotta do.”

He nodded somberly, nursing his scotch. “You thinking of joining one of the vaults?”

“I’ve been made an offer,” you said vaguely, not wanting to think too much about the details. “Thinking it would be smart to take it.”

“We can talk to Barb, maybe they’ll put us all in the same one. Hell, we could even be neighbors,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. “Perks of being married to one of the higher ups, right?”

“I sure would like that,” you said, ever so slightly relieved at the notion of there being some familiar faces if the apocalypse came. “But enough of that for now. How about we take a lap, show some face, and maybe you can retire from your movie star duties early? I’d also like to congratulate Barb for being such a stellar hostess.”

His shoulders relaxed some, and his smile was more genuine this time. “Oh, you’re heaven-sent. That’s a genius plan, let’s do it.”

He offered you his arm and you took it, holding your dress with your other hand as you descended the steps into the living room. You could tell people would immediately swarm over to you like sharks, and you knew you were in for a long night.

“Don’t count your blessings yet,” you said with a wry smile, raising an eyebrow. “We’ve still gotta make it to the other side.”

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#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x you #fallout fanfiction #cooper howard fanfiction #the ghoul fanfiction #mini series #cooper howard #the ghoul

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 10 months

Note

Suletta and your pick of T-Dolls with a mechanic S/O who uses “percussive maintenance” to great effect.

Just….

BONK

and the machine is working fine.

(They also have a favorite wrench to perform this maintenance with)

(MSG: The Witch from Mercury/GFL) Suletta, Angelia, G36, and RPK-16's Mechanic S/O hitting things with a wrench to 'fix it'

(For Suletta, it'll just be platonic to feel more authentic to the show!)

Suletta watched (Y/N) repair Chuchu's Demi-Trainer without too much effort, simply calibrating it so that it would respond better.

(Chuchu) "Oi, Suletta, (Y/N)! How's the legs?"

(Suletta) "A-Ah, still working on the wiring, it'll be ready to move in a second!"

Suletta stared at the wiring and furrowed her brows, trying to find what exactly was causing the issue.

She had some knowledge on how Mobile Suits were repaired, but nothing to this extent. At least, anything that wasn't Aerial.

Aerial was at least helping with the repairs too a good chunk of the time.

(Y/N) scratched their chin as their finger tapped against the wrench, slowly lowering the lift back onto the hangar floors.

(Suletta) "You weren't able to find anything either? It should be working fine, but I haven't noticed anything."

(Y/N) "Nothing I could see with my eyes. But don't worry, Suletta, I know the perfect trick!"

(Chuchu) "Hey! If you put a dent onto my trainer, I'll be denting your skull!"

(Y/N) "Oh come on, you know it always works!"

(Suletta) "U-Um, what is she talking about?"

(Y/N) "Behold, my family technique, Suletta!"

Suletta opened her mouth in slight awe, ready to see what (Y/N) had up their sleeve.

Only for them to violently smack the foot of the Demi-Trainer, a loud clang echoing throughout all of Earth House.

Suletta leapt back in terror, stammering as she shook (Y/N).

(Suletta) "Y-Y-YOU JUST HIT HER MOBILE SUIT! WHY?!"

(Y/N) raised a finger and looked back at the cockpit.

(Y/N) "Chuchu?"

The leg of the Demi-Trainer moved without any issue.

(Chuchu) "...I resent that stupid trick works."

(Y/N) "Ah, but it still works, doesn't it?"

(Suletta) "...B-But how?"

(Angelia) "Console still not working?"

(Commander) "Yeah, won't turn on no matter what I tried. Plugging it back in and out, that sorta thing."

(Angelia) "Hm. Some budget they gave us. Well don't worry, I can call S/O."

(Commander) "Huh. I figured you'd call one of the T-Dolls for that."

(Angelia) "Nah, S/O's got this. Trust me."

S/O came into the briefing room with a single wrench, saluting both Angelia and the Commander.

(Angelia) "Computer's not turning on, mind fixing it for us?"

(S/O) "Got it, Ange."

S/O walked over to the computer's power, slowly raised their wrench before violently slamming the head onto the top of it.

The Commander flinched, but Angelia stood there, perfectly stonefaced.

And right on cue, the monitor turned back on.

(Angelia) "Thanks."

(S/O) "Anytime!"

S/O moved to give her a peck on the cheek before her own robotic hand hit their head, though the impact was not as violent.

(Angelia) "Not during work."

The Commander simply stood there, flabbergasted that damaging his system made it work.

(Commander) "...Whatever, as long as that doesn't break the damn thing and have Helian yell at me for it."

G36 scowl seems to not move as she stares at the coffee machine.

(Springfield) "Oh, right! I forgot to tell you, G36. The machine is broken right now, I had called for someone to come fix it. They should be arriving-"

(S/O) "Apologies for the delay, I was caught up in another repair...Oh, G36!"

G36 smiled at the sound of S/O's voice, stepping aside to make room.

(G36) "Ah, I think this is the first time we're both in the same area while we're on the clock."

(Springfield) "S/O, our coffee machine has decided to stop working since last night. Mind helping us?"

(S/O) "Sure thing, step back, love."

G36 nodded and made no acknowledgement of S/O's pet name since it was just her and Springfield in the room.

And S/O reached into the bag, pulled out a wrench and-

THUD!

S/O had smacked the side of it, which both T-Dolls heard a beep of acknowledgement, the machine ready to produce coffee once more.

(G36) "...S/O, that does not seem like it is an efficient way to repair things."

(S/O) "It works though, you should try it out too!"

(G36) "S/O, we would break the machine we are attempting to fix if I were to employ your methods."

16 had not called S/O to fix anything, instead she happened to come across them as she was strolling back to her dorm.

It was in the middle of the base hallways, finding S/O repairing a vending machine.

(RPK-16) Huh. When were these here, and why are there even vending machines to begin with? This is a military base, not a mall...-

She thought to herself.

But instead of saying anything to S/O, she decided to observe.

S/O was pressing a myriad of buttons to no avail, their frustration growing as they let out an exhale through their nose.

It amused 16 to watch S/O go about their business. So this is what they were like when she wasn't present.

She then watched them reach into a bag and smack a wrench straight into the middle of the vending machine.

And finally, it relinquished a singular can of soda that rolled out to the bottom.

S/O made a small fist bump, obviously proud of their accomplishment. They twirled their wrench onto their belt and walked off.

16 raised an eyebrow and pressed a button after they left, watching as the machine produced a drink without fail.

(RPK-16) "...So, humans resort to violence when something does not go their way? I suppose that's on track from the data I've gathered so far."

She let out a small giggle, thinking of how S/O looked during the process. This was quite interesting.

Doubly so since S/O was a mechanic and they knew that's not how you'd repair things normally.

(RPK-16) "Note to self, do not ask S/O to do repairs on me."

#gundam witch from mercury x reader #gundam witch from mercury headcanons #gundam witch from mercury imagines #girls' frontline imagines #girls' frontline headcanons #girls' frontline x reader #suletta mercury x reader #angelia x reader #g36 x reader #rpk 16 x reader #suletta mercury #angelia gfl #g36 gfl #rpk 16 gfl

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highwaytothedangerzone502 · 1 year

Text

Foxtrot Alpha Alpha - Chapter 13

Pairing: Hangman x Female OC

Word Count: 3066

Warnings: None

Summary: Hangman learned his lesson a long time ago to never show his true feelings when someone's words or actions hurt him. To do so showed weakness that could be exploited, and Seresin men couldn't show weakness. Of course, there was an exception to every rule, and Jake's always came in the form of women, three in particular: his mom, Juliette Kazansky, and the girl whose name he could no longer bring himself to speak. She was the girl that got away; she was his biggest 'what if' and his biggest regret; she would forever be the ghost that haunted his dreams. Jake believed that's where she'd stay, for he would surely never see her again after what he did.

Or so he thought.

Notes: This is the sequel to India Lima Yankee; I'm using the same callsign for the Female OC as in Ghost Story because I just really like it, but they are different characters; chapters in italics are flashbacks. Also, sorry it's taken so long - life has gotten in the way and I haven't had a chance to write as much :(

Chapter Songs: My Tears Ricochet Hits Different

****

Ghost

The storm raged through most of the night, and Ghost watched it for hours, unable to sleep. Despite her steady voice and relatively calm demeanor, Juliette's fainting freaked her out, and her anxiety took its time going down. It didn't help to have Hangman in the room next to her, so close yet so far, nor the knowledge that he still recognized her tells, although the chamomile had helped calm her nerves.

Finally, around three a.m., Ghost fell into a light sleep, but nightmares plagued her dreams. Her conscience found particular pleasure in making her relive the accident over and over again. Ghost woke up from them each time, paralyzed in grief and with pain shooting throughout her limbs. The PTSD had lessened significantly since the accident, but certain events and people triggered small recurrences, and Jake 'Hangman' Seresin was a major factor.

After a fitful night's sleep, Ghost forced herself up at eight and decided to head home. Switching out of the pajamas Juliette so kindly lent to her and back into her own clothes, Ghost shuffled into the hallway and down to the kitchen. Rooster moved surprisingly quietly, considering he'd received his callsign because of the God-awful hour he woke up at and his uncanny ability to make noise no matter how hard he tried not to.

"What are you going to make?" Ghost queried, peering over the counter.

Rooster jumped, the pan he held flying out of his hand. He flailed about trying to catch it, but it ended up clattering loudly to the floor. He stared in dismay at the pan. "Well, so much for not waking anyone."

"Sorry, I thought you heard me come in," Ghost said sheepishly, picking up the cookware and handing it to him.

Rooster snorted. "Please. No one hears you coming."

"Then you're not doing it right," Hangman's husky voice remarked. Despite the evident fact he'd literally rolled out of bed (or the couch) moments ago- judging by his annoyingly sexy bedhead and sleepy expression- he still managed to smirk cheekily at them. Ghost grabbed the pan from Rooster and bonked Hangman on the head. He rubbed it ruefully. "Joking, joking."

"No, you weren't," Rooster replied, taking the pan back from Ghost and setting it on the stove. "You two want breakfast?"

Ghost shook her head. "No, but thank you. I need to hurry home and shower before heading back out. Jackie's getting into town this morning for business, and I promised to meet her for a late breakfast before she has to go to her first meeting."

"Send Jackie my regards," Juliette said, waddling into the kitchen. "How is she?"

"Good. Looking forward to whatever deal she's trying to close this week. I'll drop in later to see how you're doing if you're free?"

"Of course. I'm not going anywhere today. I don't want Rooster prepping the nursery unsupervised-"

"I spilled paint one time," he protested, pointing firmly at her with the spatula. "And you're not helping me. Not with the pregnancy complications."

"We can debate this later. Ghost-" Juliette turned to her friend- "like I said, you're welcome to come by later."

"I appreciate it. I'll see you later then. Bye, y'all!" Waving at the group, Ghost hurried outside and hopped on her motorcycle. She sped toward her apartment, miraculously not coming across any cops. Otherwise, she certainly would've been pulled over for speeding. Taking a quick shower, drying her hair, and throwing on enough makeup to make herself presentable, Ghost darted back out the door and hopped onto her motorcycle, speeding like the Devil himself was after her and narrowly arriving at the coffee shop on time. Jackie strutted in hardly a minute later and hugged her little sister tightly, exclaiming quietly, "Oh, it's so good to see you!"

"You too! Good flight?"

"Yeah, yeah, long but good," Jackie said, pulling away and moving to the line to order coffee. "Were you waiting long for me?"

"Oh yeah, I got here ten minutes ago," Ghost lied, unable to help herself from an opportunity to mess with her big sister.

Jackie didn't fall for it. "Really? Because I swear I saw your motorcycle go blasting past me, like, a minute before I got here."

"Don't know what you're talking about. You must've imagined it."

"Uh-huh, yeah, that's what happened," Jackie replied, clearly not believing Ghost. The cheeky grin on her face probably gave it away. "So, what do you want? It's on me."

Knowing better than to argue, nor was she willing to pass up a free drink, Ghost answered. The sisters waited for their orders and, once received, maneuvered to a booth. Jackie faced the door, one of the few people Ghost trusted to do so. Their mother had taught them to always sit facing the door so they knew when and if danger approached.

"How have you been? What's been going on?" Ghost inquired, taking a sip of her tea.

Jackie shrugged. "Mainly work. Heath and I are going to Spain in a few months for our five-year anniversary. He's been dying to go back since college," she said. "What about you? How have you been now that Jake's back in the picture?"

"He's only back temporarily, and I try to avoid him as much as possible, which has turned out to be pretty difficult," Ghost replied in annoyance, going into detail about all the instances she had to be around him, including crashing at the Bradshaw's last night. "He's super close to Juliette, which I never knew. She hardly spoke about him last time we talked, so while I knew they were friendly, I didn't know they were best friends."

"You okay with it?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, that used to be you, and you still love him. Don't-" Jackie pointed a firm finger at her sister- "try to convince me otherwise."

"Even if you're wrong?"

"You mean right?"

"I said what I said, and for the record, I'm okay with it as long as he doesn't hurt her like he did me. I doubt Rooster would let him get away with it if he did, though. I don't know what to think of Jake anymore because he clearly cares for Juliette, but when she passed out yesterday, I offered to Jake to come with us to the hospital because I figured he'd want to be there for her, but no, he declined and offered to watch the dogs instead. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad someone watched Raptor and Lightning because they're Juliette's kids, canine or not, but still, I find it weird he didn't want to be with her when for all we knew, she was in critical condition."

"Why did she pass out?!"

"Something called preeclampsia. They're monitoring it to make sure it doesn't get worse, but she's okay for now. Scared the hell out of us when it happened."

"I'm glad she's okay. Send her my regards next time you see her. Do you think Jake has something against hospitals? First, he didn't see you when you were in it, now Jules."

"No. I mean, he saw Ghoul before she passed, so I don't know what the hell his problem is. He never told me."

Jackie raised an eyebrow. "Did you give him a chance to?"

"He had multiple opportunities to reach out, and he didn't until after the hearing when he knew I didn't blame him for the accident. So, no, I don't think he has a problem with hospitals."

"Have you talked to him at all since you've been here? And I'm talking civilly, not giving him sarcasm."

"A couple of times, and very briefly." Ghost dove into the story of Jake's dad's failing health, his brother being on the lam for the embezzlement, the concern of Kyle joining him, and Kyle's refusal to stop calling her. "I haven't blocked his number, so if he leaves an incriminating voicemail, I can get a restraining order if need be."

"Be careful with him," Jackie warned, eyes narrowing. "I don't like his obsession with you."

"Don't worry. California may have strict gun laws, but I always have some sort of weapon on me, and if I can't have my gun on me, then I have my knives. And yes, that's plural."

Jackie's expression contorted into confusion. "Why do you carry multiple knives?"

"Because if I'm ever attacked, and they disarm me with the first one, the last thing they're going to expect is for me to whip out a second one."

"You know what, good point. I might start doing that." Her gaze flickered over Ghost's shoulder. "Did you tell Hangman where you were going this morning?"

"I said I was getting coffee with you, but not where." Ghost narrowed her eyes at her sister. "Why?"

"You still apparently think alike because he just walked in."

Ghost whirled around, hoping it would be a lookalike of Hangman, but no, it was most definitely him. She faced her sister. "Why? Why is my life like this? This only happens in love stories, which is so not what this is."

"Or maybe it's God telling you it is, and you're refusing to see the signs. Maybe I'll help God out."

"Don you da-"

"Jake!" Jackie hollered out. Judging by the bright smile on her face, he must've heard her. She waved him over.

Ghost groaned and hissed, "I'm going to kill you."

"You can thank me at your wedding when you marry him. Here he comes. Look alive."

"If that's a pun on my callsign-"

"Hello, ladies," Hangman greeted with his signature smirk, his eyes flitting over to Ghost. She noticed a flicker of hesitance in them, along with an unspoken apology, as if he understood this was all Jackie's doing and none of hers.

Jackie stood up and hugged him. "It's so good to see you! If I didn't have to leave soon, I'd invite you to join us."

"I know better than to intrude on girl time," Hangman said, holding his hands up. "Juliette, Penny, and Phoenix taught me that."

"It's not a problem if we invite you to join us."

"I have a feeling it's more like you're inviting me. Don't think Ghost is keen to have her sister-time interrupted," Hangman said, shooting the younger Blackwood a small understanding smile.

"Well, too bad because it's been years since I've seen you. What are you doing tomorrow?"

"The Daggers and I have an air demonstration show, and then we're hanging out at the Hard Deck."

"Oh, shit, I completely forgot about that!" Ghost exclaimed, squeezing her eyes shut. "What time is it?"

"It starts at ten." An unidentified emotion flashed in his eyes. "You participating?"

"Only as a spectator."

"Ah. Jackie, you're welcome to watch the show. I can get you tickets. You can join us at the bar afterward, too, if you're not busy."

"Oh, count me in. I love hanging out with the pilots."

"That why you married one?"

Jackie chuckled. "He knows I married him for his plane."

"I can feel the love. Well, listen, I'll leave you be. Jackie, hope to see you tomorrow night. Ghost, I'll see you around." Hugging the elder Blackwood goodbye and rubbing Ghost's shoulder affectionately after a moment's hesitation, Hangman exited the coffee shop. Jackie sat down with a triumphant smile on her face, causing her sister to ask about it.

"Because I learned something in those few minutes," Jackie said.

"Which was?" Ghost prodded.

"That he is one-hundred percent, prime time, still in love with you." She took a big swig of her coffee. "Just like I've always believed."

"Can I see your drink for a second?" Ghost asked, reaching over and taking it from her sister before she could respond. She took a sniff and swiftly handed it back.

Jackie stared at her sister in annoyance. "What the hell was that for?"

"I was trying to smell if there was alcohol in your drink because that's the only plausible explanation for your outlandish and downright absurd opinion."

"Jake was never shy around girls. The only time I've ever seen him get flustered is around you."

"I'm calling bullshit, and if you didn't have to leave, I'd go through the list of why," Ghost said, standing up and throwing on her jacket. She watched Jackie finish her drink and toss it in the trash can. "I'm going to assume you're coming tomorrow?"

"Like you even have to ask that. Are we good for dinner tonight? I was going to invite Jake but thought you might actually strangle me for that."

"You're not wrong." Ghost walked outside with Jackie, stopping at her sister's rental car. She ran a hand through her hair and sighed. Jackie noticed and asked what was wrong in genuine concern. In a moment of weakness, Ghost confessed, "You were right about me still loving Jake. I do. I always have and probably always will, and honestly? It hurts to be around him because all I want to do is go back to being the friends we were, and I can tell he wants that too, but then I think of how he treated me and behaved after the accident, and it just brings back the pain, and I don't want to go through that again. I lost two friends that day."

Jackie hugged her sister sympathetically. "I understand it's hard, especially because you've never been an open person, but-" Jackie pulled away- "I mean this as gently as possible, you can't wholly blame him for the situation you two are in. You could've confronted him sooner, but you didn't. Maybe now is the time to figure it out."

"Why are you suddenly being logical?" Ghost asked with a defeated pout.

"I have my moments. I want you to be happy, and I noticed you've never been as happy without Jake in your life. I'll see you later?"

"Yeah, see you at home." Ghost watched her sister pull out of the parking lot before straddling her motorcycle and driving back to her apartment. Once there, she headed to the living room, where all her guitars hung on display. Ghost beelined for the oldest one on there; it had sat on its wall perch for years, only touched when she had to pack it to move, but something about it called to her at the moment. Grabbing it, she headed to her armchair and set up her phone, purposefully moving the camera down so her face wasn't visible and using a filter to blur the background. Ghost played a few chords, deciding what to play first, but one song kept coming back to her. It deviated from her typical taste of upbeat country, being more indie than anything else, but it came closest to how she felt. Ghost started strumming the chords to "My Tears Ricochet" and pouring all her bottled emotions into it. Singing had become her escape, her way of releasing her feelings because she'd never been good at expressing them. She'd always viewed emotions as a way to be exploited and only allowed a handful of people to see her as anything other than calm and happy. Her parents, sister, Juliette, and Rooster were those people. Hangman used to be one of those, and then the accident happened, and they handled it differently. Ghost spiraled into a depression over losing Ghoul, blaming herself for the accident, and Hangman was nowhere to be seen to help her through the grief like she thought he would. Maybe Ghost should've given him a chance to explain all those years ago? But why did she have to be the one to initiate it?

Knots formed in her throat during multiple parts of the song, but she pushed through, believing she could get through it without her voice breaking even a little. That was true until she sang: And I can go anywhere I want. Anywhere I want, just not home.

That's what hurt the most when her friendship ended with Hangman; he'd been her go-to person, the friend she called up first whenever something good or bad happened, the friend that she could always count on during the good and the bad; losing him left a gaping, ragged hole in her heart when it all ended, a hole she'd never been able to fill. It'd been years, and Hangman was still the first person Ghost thought of calling whenever something happened- good or bad- and it took over two years for her to realize why: he'd been her home. She never had trouble leaving anywhere or anyone, only him. Even now, although Ghost hated being around Jake, she didn't want him to go, maybe because she foolishly thought they could work all this out, make it water under the bridge. She'd have to face him for that, though, and Ghost wasn't ready for that. Truthfully, she feared his answer to her question, no matter how many people told her that he loved her. If he had or did love her, why did he leave her alone like he did?

When Ghost finished the song, she stopped the recording and went on Instagram, but her thumb hovered over the post button. What if Hangman saw it? What if he realized she had sung the song about him?

"How would he know?" Ghost mumbled to herself, shaking her head. "It's not like he can see my face or any distinguishing features, and this isn't the only blue guitar in existence. Besides, he doesn't know this account exists. It'll be fine..."

Convincing herself otherwise, Ghost hit the 'post' button and tossed her phone haphazardly onto the couch, as many girls did when they texted or posted something they considered risky. She stood to hang her guitar back on the wall only to be stopped by the incessant buzzing of her phone, alerting her to an incoming call.

Shit, shit, shit... Scrunching her face up into one of pure reluctance, Ghost carefully flipped her phone over and sighed in relief when she saw the name on the screen. Picking up, Ghost answered, "Morning, Cyclone, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I have a mission for you. How soon can you meet me at my office?"

"Give me fifteen minutes. I'll see you shortly, sir." Ghost hung up and grabbed her keys, wondering what this so-called mission could be.

****

Tags: @lgg5989 @shanimallina87 @polikszena @summ3rlotus @icemansgirl1999 @supernaturaldawning @thedarkinmansfield @lyannaforpresident @lapilark @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @simpofthecentury @shadeops21 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @double-j @bradshawsandbridgetons @catsandgeekyandnerd @peachiicherries @multifandomcnova @fandomsstolemylife00 @bookloverhorses @mak-32 @midnightmagpiemama @luckyladycreator2 @ellamae021 @kmc1989

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13

If you're not on the tag list and want to be, just let me know :)

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a-complex-joke · 6 months

Text

The Toymaker Chapter 3

MASTERLIST

"Morning Pen, Hot chocolate?" Ruby said as I walked in.

"Actually no I'm in the mood for tea today, got earl grey," I said sitting at the container.

"Oh fancy, but what's up, changing your order so out of the blue is everything alright" she placed a hand on mine.

"Nothing wrong just feels like things are changing for the better, something different I just don't know what," I say thinking it over.

"Oh so you noticed the old clock working as well, Regina is finally getting this town fixed up" she joked.

"I don't think Regina has or ever will care for this town, she just likes the power of being mayor"

"I would appreciate less bad-mouthing out of you Miss banks," the all too familiar voice of Regina said behind me.

"Your coffee miss madam mayor," Ruby said becoming more mannerly.

"I don't understand why gold lets your toy store stay it's not like you get any business"

"Actually, if I was pushed out someone else would come along and who knows how loud and annoying they'd be, plus I have an inside voice rule"

She rolled her eyes before swiftly leaving

"Why does, Gold let you stay, you never pay rent," Ruby said

"I really don't know I swear" I laughed.

Gold's Prawn shop and Banks toystore pretty funny coincidences maybe it's just something to laugh at and that's why he lets me stay.

"I've never cared to ask, maybe he's in love with me" I joked

We laughed.

"Trust me, girl you could do so much better than him, maybe Leroy" she jested, earning us a middle finger from the man.

"Morning Emma" Ruby greeted the blonde.

She awkwardly waved sitting next to me,'

"Your that Toy store girl right, Mandy Brink? Was it" she said trying to make conversation.

"Penny Banks, So your Henry's mother, finally come to take him away from the evil queen" I joked.

"Oh you know about Henry's Fairy tale conspiracy," she said.

"What? I don't talk to the kid much, just the grapevine knowledge, what's this conspiracy?" I asked curiously.

"I don't think I should say, I'm only staying a week, don't want to cause more trouble than I already have"

"Nah we could use some excitement here, the most fun I have had in a long time was when a kid in my shop tripped and yelled, fuck you floor ill kill your mother"

Emma looked like she was trying to figure out whether It was a joke or not.

"Speaking of my shop, I've got to go see you around."

The days went on Eventually Emma moved in with Mary-Margaret and is staying most likely forever and yet I still have paid no rent to Gold.

"Oh Well Hello Miss Banks, heading home for the night," Gold said Locking his shop.

"Yeah, I mean I was going to go grab something to eat before but still" I laughed.

"Would you mind if I joined you, Haven't had much to eat myself"

I nodded and we started walking toward Grannie's

"So, This I kind of a weird question, Why don't you charge me rent like ever? Id think id be the first on your rent rounds" I joked.

"Let's just say, Ive owed you a great deal of things, this is just part of that"

"I have no idea what you're talking about but I'm just gonna say I'm content with it?"

"Oh, I've just realized I left something back at the shop, you go ahead ill catch up," he said waddling back.

I arrived and waited outside of the place for Gold, But he didn't show, the place closed and I started to panic, I rushed back to the shop.

"Mr. Gold?" I said as I opened the door of his shop, the window of the door had been broken, and on the floor lay, Gold bleeding out of his head.

"Oh god, should I call someone" panic has now been ramped up.

I pulled a rag from my pocket and pressed it to his head, he hissed a bit.

"Oh good your alive, hold this, and apply pressure, Im gonna call someone"

"No, I'm fine no need to call," he said trying to sit up.

"What happened"

"Ashley Boyd, she broke in and stole the contract we had, then bonked me over the head when I caught her."

I help Gold back to his place before leaving for my own and the next day Emma went on the search for the teen mother.

#OUAT #fanfic #rumplestiltskin

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chessyhoward · 9 months

Text

"Give me a twirl, Chessy!"

Her little sister's face dominated the entirety of her phone screen, so that Chess could see right up Genevieve Howard's nose. Chess suppressed a giggle, filled with an ridiculous fondness for her younger sister. Between the time zones, Chess being busy with Hazel, and Genevieve planning a wedding, the Howard sisters rarely got the time to chat. So Chess soaked up whatever time with her sister she possible could. Whether that be a quick FaceTime before bed, or walking down a busy New York street. If the other woman called, Chess always answered.

"Fine!" Chess pretended to roll her eyes, standing up and setting her phone down across the room. Propping her iPhone up against a cart filled with complimentary snacks and fancy bottled water, Chess checked her outfit in the screen, watching as Gen clapped her hands together and wolf whistled.

"It's so fancy in there. Let me see... pleather skirt, white shirt, chunky boots... Francesca Howard, is that Jaxxy's racing jacket?" gasped Gen, her voice tinny through the speakers.

Chess blushed immediately, jogging to the phone as best she could in heels so she could snatch it back up, curls bouncing around her shoulders.

"He came over last week to give Hazel her Christmas present, he might have left it behind... and it goes with my outfit!"

Chess tugged at the stiff leather, admiring herself in the outfit. She knew very little about Jax's job, except that it meant he had ownership of a very stylish nineties Ferrari jacket, something Chess had been coveting for years. Gen snorted on the other end of the phone, shaking her head.

"Tongues will wag, sis." Gen tsked, causing Chess to roll her eyes for the second time in about five minutes.

"Yeah, I'm sure everyone will think I'm bonking Jackson Otto." she laughed, flicking her hair over her shoulder. It was common knowledge in close circles that Jax had no interest in anything Chess, nor any woman had to offer, although the girls who wrote explicit Fanfiction about him from the comfort of their bedrooms had yet to catch on to this glaring fact.

At that, Chess lifted her head as she heard a rap at the door to the press room. Dropping her voice to a whisper, Chess held the reciever up to her mouth.

"I have to go, Gen. Enjoy cake tasting, okay?"

"Okay!" her sister whispered back, "break a leg, Cheshire Cat!"

Hanging up abruptly, Chess shoved her phone into the depths of Jax's jacket pocket just as the door swung open, revealing one of the most beautiful women Chess had ever seen in real life.

"Francesca?" she queried, juggling a clipboard and coffee cup so that she could hold a hand out to Chess, in a haze of strong-smelling perfume and bright smiles. "I'm Meg Davis, the social media manager."

Taking her hand, Chess gave it a soft shake, offering her a bright smile.

"Just Chess is okay, really. That's the name I use on Instagram." she explained. Meg showed all her teeth when she smiled and managed to both look incredibly sexy yet approachable at the same time. She wondered if there was a way to ask her how she did it without sounding like she was flirting.

"Alrighty, Just Chess. You want to see where the magic happens?"

Nodding eagerly, Chess shoved her hands in her pockets as she followed Meg out of the press room and out into the small studio. There were a handful of Instagram hopefuls, like herself, who had already been set loose on the models, the free samples, the table from craft services. The whole place was bustling with activity, no matter where Chess looked, a harried intern was running holding fistfuls of clothing, a model Chess had pinned to her Pinterest board a thousand times over had sprung to life and was reviewing her photos from behind the camera. The brunette's heart felt fit to burst. This was a small facet of the fashion industry, but it was the closest Chess had ever come to being on the inside. What was the quote? Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt. Chess was certain she could die happy here.

Realising Meg had been talking to her, Chess nodded eagerly, trying to tune back in to the tail end of her speech.

"... So you'll have free reign to vlog and take photos of the day, the models, and of course, the clothes. Pretty much anything you want as long as you're not in the way of the actual shoot. And then you'll be expected to put something on your feed about the free samples, ca-peesh?" she said, drawing out her words, and raising a single eyebrow at Chess to make sure she understood. Chess pressed her signature red lips together, nodding eagerly.

"Really, we just want you guys to have fun. We'll probably get some photos of you all at the end, if that's okay?"

The thought of being behind a professional camera was kind of terrifying to the young Mum. Chess was used to her own iPhone set up, her carefully posed selfies that got all of her best angles in. But she smiled and nodded nevertheless, she feared she was beginning to resemble a nodding dog, actually. Remembering to use her words she chirped, "Amazing!"

Giving Chess' arm a little squeeze, Meg dismissed herself with a, 'have fun!' and a little wave, before skittering off in her kitten heels to... do whatever social media managers did. Talk to more Instagram girlies like herself, she supposed.

Peering around at the chaos, Chess wondered where to start. Everyone else seemed so incredibly confident, chattering animatedly to their front-facing cameras and flirting with the photographer and models. She was used to doing everything from the comfort of her plush bedroom, not putting herself on blast in front of four other infuencers with higher follower counts, better equipment and more confidence than herself.

Deciding to start small, and with her favourite part, Chess wandered over to the clothing rack. Her stomach fizzed with delight as she approached the rich fabrics, feeling very much the desire to make like young Lucy Pevensie entering Narnia and dive right in, burying her face in the luxurious fabrics. She managed to contain herself, and settled for taking her phone out, swiping into the camera and starting to record.

She took a few arty shots of her running her perfectly manicured nails over the fabrics, figuring she could edit it into a bigger Instagram reel later. It would be cool to get some shots of her surroundings, work up to the scary stuff. Using her free hand, Chess shook a few dresses loose from the rack, holding each one up to the camera to show them off. They were pieces Chess could only dream of owning.

Panning away from the clothing rack, Chess began filming the overhead exposed lighting, figuring it would be good for something. Perhaps she could do a slow pan of the whole studio? Dropping her camera, Chess began to execute her, rather brilliant, idea, only to find herself filming the naked torso of a male model.

Nearly dropping her phone in shock, Chess juggled her iPhone from one hand to the other before finally catching it, holding it tight against her chest.

"Oh, sugar." Chess blushed, peering up apologetically at the man. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were..."

Chess gestured towards the man's glistening chest, trying not to stare anymore than she already had. Her eyes moved from her phone, to the man, and back again, feeling her eyes grow comically wide and her face red. Oh, she might as well give up and go home now.

"I'm here with Meg, for the... social media outreach thing? I'm not like a... sex pest."

Squeezing her phone tight, she choked out, "I'll delete your, um...shirtlessness."

#thread: matty1 #ft. matty

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starchivist · 2 years

Text

i can’t find it now, but i remember reading a star wars fic where anakin leaves the order early to go back to tattooine and free his mom (and also all the other slaves but presumably his mom first because y’know. Mom). he was assigned an ethics essay i think?? and the topic he chose was “who will free the slaves of tattooine?” like, specifically just that question. he went around asking a bunch of people in the temple that, and the answers he got back basically boiled down to “uhhh fuck kid i dunno lol” (just. more politely worded because jedi), which considering he was a slave until only recently is kind of a kick in the chest, like. “wow okay cool thanks for letting me know what you think fuckity bye now”

and like ― good for him! go free your mom and slave friends my dude! fuck up the hutt empire on the dustball planet!

but also . . . specifically just tattooine? i mean, it’s a big fuckin’ galaxy; we see in canon that there’s way more slavers out there than just the hutts/those living on tattooine, and i don’t mean to say that “if a generalized they of justice can’t free ALL the slaves then NONE of the slaves should be freed!” the thing i’m trying to point out is that the jedi are beholden to the whole galaxy, not just tattooine and the victims of its cruelty. the jedi are also limited in what they can do by the fact that over time, they’ve become more and more attached to the galactic senate; at the time of tpm, the chancellor is the one to send qui-gon and obi-wan to naboo, as a personal favor to palpatine (the personal favor bit i think; i could be misremembering, feel free to bonk my head about that part). so like . . . in that regard, plenty of jedi would be justified in giving the verbal equivalent of the shrug emoji, y’know?

plus, there’s the fact that the slavery on tattooine is, at this point, embedded within the structure of its ruling system. like, there’s no avoiding the fact that if you wanna free tattooine, you gotta dismantle the hutt empire entirely, which might be based primarily on tattooine, but the hutts are pretty wide-fuckin’-spread! (again, i think; a good chunk of my canon knowledge comes from the first two trilogies, some of the clone wars, and fandom consensus.) that’s not a job that can be done by a master-padawan pair, and definitely not in any kind of speedy timeline. taking down a structure that’s been around for generations, as i think the hutts have been, takes time. that’s not even mentioning the fact that when you’ve dismantled a system that no longer works, you need to replace it with something that does. what’s to stop other parties from taking advantage of the chaos that comes with overthrowing a ruling power and yeeting everybody right back into the same kind of system as before, just with different people at the top? PLUS, what’s to stop somebody else from coming along and overthrowing the just ruling system and replacing it with an injust one?

i dunno, i guess the undertone of “the jedi should be fixing everything wrong in the galaxy” throughout that fic rubbed me the wrong way.

#squeakem speaks #posted: 22nd october 2022 #star wars #pro jedi #anakin skywalker

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worminstuff · 4 years

Text

i introduce: tbott shorts! first edition,

same old, same old.

sleepy bois x reader au or as some of you may know, tbott.

set a tad into the future, a short blurb of what’s to come for this series. :) not all of these will be in the future. some may be past memories or even close around when tbott itself was set. i will clarify in all of the future parts of the series aswell:)

no warnings:)

word count: 900

enjoy!! and drink water.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Oi! None of that! You’re supposed to be eating, not plotting. Gremlins.” Phil pointed a spatula to the two boys sitting at the dining table behind him.

Tubbo and Tommy were now about the age of 11 and 10, and they’re the same as ever. Just more dangerous as they’ve got much more knowledge behind their backs.

Much like y/n, Tubbo quickly became a regular around the sleepy house as the pair got older. Tubbo was to Tommy as y/n is to Techno, platonically. Techno and y/n grew out of the treehouse a tad, so the gremlins inherited it quickly.

The treehouse had turned from a lovely comfy book nook area, full of lovely memories, to a sky lair full of chaotic plans.

“When are they not plotting, though?” y/n piped up from beside the two of them. Tommy stuck his tongue out at her and Tubbo followed suit.

Techno passed by Tommy’s chair to get to y/ns but as he passed Tommy he hit him softly on the cheek, “How are the braces feeling, metal mouth?”

“Don’t call me that you cunt!” Tommy blurted, clutching his cheek.

“Tommy!” Phil and y/n both yelled at the same time as Techno stood staring at him, all of them shell shocked.

Tommy’s eyes widened. He looked to the floor, “sorry…”

Phil sighed but nodded.

Techno chuckled softly and continued to y/ns chair standing behind it. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Do you two need anything for the house? Bread, eggs, milk? Anything?” Phil asked.

“Dryer sheets?” Techno said after a short pause.

Phil looked at him with a quirked brow before nodded. “Take what you need.”

Techno nodded and headed off down the hall to the laundry room.

“Y/n?” Tommy turned to his nonblood sister.

“Hm?”

“Can we come to see bonk today? We’ve got nothing to do and it’s all rainy out.”

“Tommy that’s an awesome plan!” Phil answered just as y/n was about to protest. She shot him a glance. “I’ve got to help Sam with something so I won’t be home and I don’t feel like leaving them alone on a rainy day. Take them back with you when you and techno head back why don’t you?” Phil gave a sweet smile and she caved.

“Right, what else should we do other than see bonk?” she asked both Tommy and tubbo.

They shared a glance and then leaned over whispering to each other. y/ns eyes narrowed, she already didn’t like how this was panning out.

“What are you two doing?” techno asked as he reentered finally, “what are they doing?” he asked his girlfriend.

“Plotting our demise.” she huffed.

Techno stared blankly at his little brother before giving him a soft smack on the head “quit it.”

“Oh sure, that’ll do it.” y/n said sarcastically.

“Dad! The married couple is a fight-” before Tommy could finish his sentence the back of his head met techno hand again, “oi! Quit it!” Tommy mocked.

Phil slipped on his shoes and then placed a kiss on y/ns head, and patted all the boy’s heads. “I’m leaving,” he said with a soft laugh as he quickly grabbed his coat.

“Heh?!” Techno quickly looked to y/n in panic.

“Oh yeah, we’re stuck with the rug rats today.” she smiled.

Techno paused, then sighed. He had planned on getting to relax and chill out with y/n for the day. He was excited about it too.

Tubbo and Tommy cheered at his disappointment.

Both boys scoffed down their pancakes as Techno cleaned up the kitchen for his dad, and once everyone was done they gathered their things to head to techno and y/ns house.

“Aye! No lighters in my house please and thank you.” y/n pointed at Tommy as she passed his doorway. Tommy had a lighter in his hand he was about to place in his backpack. Tommy slowly set it back on his desk.

The morning was about as tame as it could’ve been with Tommy and Tubbo, bonk got many cuddles and even played around with them for a tad.

The three of them managed to tire themselves out and actually passed out on y/n and Techno’s bed. It reminded y/n of a fond memory of hers.

After Techno saw the two boys out like a light, he quickly grabbed y/n so they could sit together and chill for as long as they would be able to. He hadn’t seen her much that day, and he wasn’t fond of it.

Techno managed to wrangle her away from whatever cleaning she was trying to do and dragged her to the living room. No to the couch, but to the floor in front of it.

“Sit.” he pointed to the rug.

y/n made a face at him. He huffed a laugh.

“As you would in the treehouse,” he said.

y/n quickly realized what he meant and happily sat on the rug cris cross. Techno followed suit but laid sort of next to her with his head in her lap. y/n pulled the small hair tie that was holding the top half of his hair up so she could run her hand through his hair.

Many things have changed over the years, but some things just won’t ever change for the sleepy bunch.

#sleepy bois x reader au #sleepy bois x reader #sleepy bois fanfic #sleepy boys inc #sleepy bois #sleepy bois au #techno x reader #techno fanfic #techno fanfiction #technoblade fanfiction #technoblade x reader #lil bro tommy #tubbo #dadza philza #philza #sbi x reader #sbi

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drabbles-of-writing · 3 years

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fuck yea i got an anon name! yes ofc you can call me adopt anon. also i agree on the mind control but at the same time the idea of Raine being FULLY conscious and able to speak just screaming at the others to just leave them, how they arent worth it, basically Eda in the s1 finale but like ten times worse bc its kinda implied that aside from the BATs Raine is kinda? hella alone? like having enough time to work as a teacher AND research stuff AND get so far up in the ranks to become a coven head? poor rainecloud doesnt even have hooty or a king to cheer them up. and ofc they get the other BATs out first! mama Eda has 100% adopted those rapscallions imo. so Raine is just crying out trying to get the people they love to go away so they dont end up hurt and for some reason i picture luz saying "oh LIKE HELL IM LEAVING YOU I WANT THAT BACKSTORY ON EDA" before Eda bonks her on the head and everyone starts to talk about how Raine had an impact on their lives (from a distance bc mind control is Yikes).

Katya: you helped me reestablish myself after the prison break! Amber: you gave me a family! Derwin: you kept me from getting arrested for protesting! Luz: I dont really know you but you make Eda and Hunter HAPPY and my god they need that. Eda: you mean more to me than I could ever say while fighting for my life like right now, but if you let us help I'll use the rest of my days to drive it through your thick skull.

and then Raine is already super emotional but Hunter steps up and walks over despite the attempted attacks and manages to catch Raine in a hug and just kinda whispers "you showed me what a real parent is lik" and Raine starts BAWLING their eyes out and they magic and power of love their way out of everything.

and after Belos is dead and gone Raine officially adopts Hunter and Amber and they all move into the owl house (with a few expansions ofc) and then one day Raine is sitting on the couch when Eda comes in and says smth like "yknow, i dont really like my last name anymore, I mean, I helped take down a dictator! my last name shouldnt mean quiet!" and Edas like "yea well the only way to do that would be to marry m- HOLY CRAP YOU SMOOTH BITCH HOW DID YOU NOT GET STAGE FRIGHT" and it turns out that Gus had made an illusion to say Raines lines for them and they come out from behind a curtain or something and get down on one knee and propose while shaking like a damn chihuahua aiehgwfggfe

anyways if you cant tell i adore this concept lmao -adopt anon

i love that me handing out anon names is like getting a pokemon card lmao

and god your IDEAS dude!!! i could absolutely see a scene similar to this happening in an episode. i like the idea of Raine being sort of 'asleep' with the thorns covering their eyes while they act out wishes, but sometimes the thorns can part (w the power of love babey) and they can see through the thorns and pieces of them snap back and they are just horrified at what they're doing with tears and can barely manage choked out sobs for the others to leave them with the thorns in their throat and mind control still over them. because they started the batts in the first place because they felt they had nothing left to lose. sike bitch get in the found family

course all of Raine's batt kids aren't going to let them go that easily, and will be DAMNED if Raine gets away like that, and Hunter has already made Raine the designated Parental Figure so theres no going back now. they all just love 'em and the power of love (plus Hunter's slight knowledge on how the spell works) saves them and they grab Raine and Hunter and BOOK IT out of there and back to the Owl House where Raine gets a good long break and Discussion About Those Who Love Them. and meet Eda's kids properly of course.

Raine would be such a MESS w a proposal ofc they'd need an illusion to do it. they failed at it like 3 times already they clearly needed the help. Hunter is going through the 5 stages of grief overdramatically in the background because god fucking damnit now he's unofficial siblings with Luz even MORE now and Luz is just THRIVING

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a-vampire-culturelover · 2 years

Text

A Silly Little Prank- another crackfic, lads? :)

“Hey Moon.”

“Yes Garbage?”

“You see Bugs dumb friends over there in the living room?”

“Yeah so?”

“Let’s pull a silly little prank on them >:).” Garbage said with mischief in his voice, Moon reflecting the same urge to cause trouble and havoc in the household. Garbage had begged Eustace to let Moon come over to their house, which took two hours of saying ‘please’ until he caved in. Now there they were, coincidentally there when Bug had brought her friends, Winton, Peyton, Renn, and Saul. Now they were peeking from the kitchen, the five commencing about some stupid vampire novel. How stupid, they don’t sparkle they burn. If they wanted to pull this off they’d need to have someone in on it.

Someone like Bug.

“Bug! Over here!”

“Yeah, why Uncle Garbage?” Bug asked curiously.

“We want to pull a prank on your dumb friends and we need your help.” Garbage informed her, to which she gave a heavy sigh. ”Fine, I’ll help you prank them. But only if you leave Winton out. He gets emotional when people trick him and I’m not looking forward to the crying that’ll ensue.” Bug warned them, complying to their devious plan. The two approached the four, who looked curiously to them. ”So you want to know what it’s like to be vampires?”

“Hell yeah!” “I’m just curious.” “Yeah?”

“Well we have the solution for you! We could turn you into vampires if you really want to know.” Garbage insisted. This was gonna be good. "Really? You mean like in the anime's and books?" Renn asked, clapping her wings together, the owl surprising Moon. Shit, she didn't know what anime was. Despite her large knowledge of horror movies, she was estranged to anime. "Uh yeah. I know animes, like uh..Cory in the House?" Moon improvised as Garbage got ketchup from the kitchen, hiding it behind his back. "Sit your asses down, bitches, because we're gonna do the biting ritual. Don't open your eyes because there'll be like, a fuck ton of blood everywhere if you do. Saul your first." Garbage insisted as he made the three sit down, Moon pulling Winton aside to let him in on the prank. Garbage got closer to Saul's neck, the scent of fresh blood enticing...only to just pinch their necks and dot the ketchup neatly where he did. "My neck hurts." Saul complained before getting a bonk on the head from Garbage. Renn gave an excited squeak before flipping through their book of Luster Dawn, the really stupid vampire novel they were gushing about. "Do we sparkle in the sun? Do we look really hot?" She asked before Moon and Garbage cackled and wheezed, Renn a bit shocked by this. "Your not just wrong, you're stupid!" he added as Renn looked to the floor in disbelief, Peyton giving them a nose bonk for comfort. Glob, this would be fun! Surely nothing could go wrong! - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- -

Everything was going wrong. Why would Garbage be thinking this? Oh gee, I don't know, maybe the fact that Bug's friends JUMPED OFF THE FUCKING BUILDING THINKING THEY HAD SELF-HEALING. So no, everything was not going right, thank you for asking even though no one cares.

Thankfully, due to Renn already being an owl, she was spared having to be yoinked from the air by Garbage and thrown back on the roof. "It was a prank?!....Oh you're good, Bug." Renn teased her friend, being more easily forgiving. "What the fuck, Garbage?!" Saul yelled, clinging to Bug like a lifeline. 'Jeez, if you like Bug so much why don't you get married', Garbage thought. "Not our fault you took us saying we had self-healing and you decided to see if you had it!" Garbage yelled, his shoulder being tapped on by Moon as his phone was handed to him. 'Just found out about your stupid prank. You're fucking dead.' Eustace had texted him. Shit.

#adventure time ocs #adventure time the moon #crackfic >:3 #adventure time

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bookwormsid1015 · 3 years

Text

Operation: Baby Talk [1/3]

Hizashi pounds his fist against the mahogany door rapidly while Shouta and Oboro stand behind him, Shouta with his standard bored expression and Oboro with shifting, anxious feet. Beside them, a small white cloud floats drowsily with a small grocery bag full of chili bean soup and medicine inside it.

Unlike the three boys, Nemuri is already living alone in a small apartment complex a few streets away from UA High School, working two jobs to keep up with rent and her own chaotic interests. Although her independence gives them a great place to hang out to play video games on weekends, it also draws most of her attention away from them most of the week. Despite this, Nemuri has always been a punctual, upstanding student who turns in her homework on time and always makes room for friends. Nothing has ever stopped her before, and it still amazes Oboro to see her act like such an… adult.

Bottom line: Nemuri is a busy bee and it’s not uncommon to not see her for days on end. What is uncommon, however, is discovering she hasn’t been at school or internship for the past three days and apparently called off work for the next two weeks.

This knowledge has been bothering Oboro nonstop. Is she okay? Did she get hurt while on patrol with His Purple Highness? Did she get sick? Is she all alone? Her parents live in Saitama Prefecture, a whole three hours away from Musutafu. If she is sick, knowing Nemuri and her stupid habit of hoarding her burdens to herself, she didn’t tell them or anyone else. Oboro knows for a fact she didn’t tell him, Shouta or Hizashi; the only reason they know of her strange absence was through Iida Tensei, who Oboro shares his math class with.

“Oh, she called His Purple Highness and told him something came up and that she wouldn’t be coming in for a while,” Iida had told him casually. “Why? She didn’t tell you?”

It pissed Shouta and Hizashi off that Nemuri wouldn’t let them-- her best friends-- know about her getting sick, but it just worried Oboro. It took a lot of convincing, but he managed to drag them with him to the local grocery store, grab Nemuri her favorite soup and some medicine, and come all the way over here. Shouta and Hizashi kept on glancing at Oboro strangely and whispering to each other, but Oboro doesn’t understand why they would act so weird about it. He’s Nemuri’s friend! Friends are supposed to look out for each other, right?

“Nemuriiii!” Hizashi shouts through the door between rapid knocking. “I know you’re in there, I can smell hoe for miles! Open up the mcfuckin’ dooooorrr!”

Shouta lifts an unamused eyebrow at Hizashi. “Dude, what the fuck?” he deadpans, and Hizashi glares at the ravenette from over his shoulder.

“We’re friends! I’m allowed to call her a hoe.” Hizashi turns back to the door. “Nemuri! Open the DOOR!” He emphasizes “door” with a high pitched shriek, and Oboro shoves his palm into his face to stifle his snorts.

“You guys are both assholes,” Shouta grumbles, though it’s obvious he’s smiling.

The door swings open in a quick arc that slams into Hizashi’s forehead with a comical bonk. Nemuri is standing in the doorway, clad in her pajamas with baggy pink sweatpants and a white tank top with spaghetti straps. Her red glasses sit on the bridge of her nose, her deep indigo hair tied up into a short messy bun atop her head, and her tired blue eyes glare at the boys with exhausted irritation. Seeing Nemuri without her usual playful smile is surprising in and of itself, but Oboro’s sky blue eyes widen at what she’s holding against her chest with one arm.

A small baby dressed in a cute little sailor suit is leaning into her chest, snoozing quietly with one thumb in his mouth. He looks like the splitting image of Nemuri, with a matching mole under his right eye and pale skin. The only thing that differs from her is the baby’s hairstyle, which is short and curly.

Nemuri releases the door knob and readjusts her grip on the baby, still glaring at the boys. “What the fuck, guys? You couldn’t even call in advance?” she hisses at them.

Shouta and Hizashi stare between Nemuri and the baby, speechless, while Oboro’s brain turns like slow moving gears. After a solid three seconds, he suddenly utters a horrified gasp that attracts the eyes of all three friends. “Nemuri! You were pregnant?!” he shrieks.

The accusation breaks the shocked spell in an instant, and suddenly Hizashi is lying flat on his ass, howling with laughter. Even Shouta ducks his face away, trying to stifle his giggles; Nemuri narrows her eyes at Oboro pointedly.

“Oh yeah, I got pregnant and gave birth in three days. Of course I wasn’t pregnant, dipshit.” Nemuri readjusts her grip on the baby again, holding him up a little higher. “This is my older sister’s kid. Say hello to baby Haito, everyone.”

Not knowing what else to do, everyone waves at the little baby, and the baby lifts his head drowsily. When he opens his eyes, Oboro is surprised to find the baby’s eyes are a light blue that matches the hue of the sky above, with faint freckles dusting over his cheeks. Upon seeing the newcomers, the baby fusses anxiously and buries his face in Nemuri’s bust.

Nemuri’s attitude changes in an instant, from tired and angry to worried and tender. She lifts one hand to gently pat the baby’s back and she rocks him from side to side. “Shh, shh, shh. It’s okay Haito-baby. It’s okay. Auntie Nemi’s here. You’re safe with me,” she coos into his hair, and the baby’s whines quiet down. Her voice is so soft and gentle it warms Oboro’s heart just by hearing it, and he can tell Hizashi and Shouta are just as shocked by her motherly tone.

After the baby quiets down, Nemuri lifts her head to peer at her friends, suddenly tired all over again. “Sorry for being a bitch, guys. My sister and her boyfriend had to go abroad for some job interview in South Korea, and since my parents think her boyfriend is a deadbeat, they want nothing to do with him or the baby. So she gave Haito to me,” Nemuri explains, punctuating her words with a tired sigh. “I’ve had, like, no sleep for the past three days. Damn… and my rent’s due next Thursday…”

Shouta and Hizashi look between themselves, unsure of how to react. Only Oboro is willing to meet Nemuri’s eyes, and worry pangs to life in his chest at the dark bags under her eyes. “When will they be back?” he asks her.

“Hm? In about two weeks, I think,” she says, and Oboro can almost feel her invisible walls rising, guarding her from their worry. “Don’t worry, guys. I’m fine. I’ve pulled all-nighters before, this is nothing.”

“You weren’t taking care of someone’s kid, though,” Oboro gently protests. “Have you been eating anything? Anything at all?”

Nemuri pries her eyes away from his concerned stare. “I had a protein shake yesterday,” she replies stiffly.

Oboro’s brows lower into a frown. “For breakfast or dinner?” he presses.

Nemuri sighs. “Breakfast…” she mutters in response, then quickly shakes her head as a wobbly smile forces its way onto her lips. “It’s nothing. I mean it. You guys don’t have to worry about me.”

Oboro is already shaking his head. “That’s bullshit,” he tells her, and when he sees her shoulders haunching defensively, he quickly adds, “I know you can take care of yourself, but as your friend, I still worry about you. I mean, look at you! You look like you could pass out any second now!”

“I’m fine,” she replies, her tone harder this time.

Oboro stares at her incredulously. Why can’t she just let them help for once? She has it in her mind that she has to be the strong one, the responsible one. Why can’t she see that she’s a kid just like the rest of them? It frustrates him to no end, yet in the depths of his exasperation, an epiphany comes to mind.

“Why don’t I help you take care of him?” he offers, and his friends’ eyes fall on him in surprise.

“You? Help me? Take care of… a baby?” Nemuri echoes, her words slow and meticulous as if she were taking her time tasting a treat, figuring out whether she liked it or not. She glances down at the baby in her arms, then to the small cloud floating beside the taller boy, eyeing the small grocery bag full of medicine in particular. Oboro has never seen her look so… anxious before.

Assuming she’s just not used to being offered help, Oboro goes on cheerfully, “Yeah! I have a little brother, remember? I’m a pro at babysitting!” Something about his words is bothering him, the reason flapping seamlessly in the back of his mind, though Oboro can’t pin down why. He just smiles joyfully at her, hoping his smile is convincing enough.

Finally, Nemuri sighs. “Come around six tonight,” she tells him, her tone strange. “Haito usually gets fussy around dinner time.”

Oboro flashes her a thumbs up. “Bet!” he cheers.

Nemuri smiles at him, and Oboro’s heart gives an unexpected beat; somehow it feels different from her usual broad, gleaming smiles. He doesn’t have enough time to decipher it before Nemuri quickly bids them goodbye and closes the door, disappearing back into her apartment.

A long beat of silence passes between them, and Oboro doesn’t dare move his eyes away from the front door. He can feel the hot stares of Shouta and Hizashi on his back, pinning him in place like a butterfly on a bulletin board.

“Holy fucking shit. Did you just…?” Suddenly, Hizashi’s face splits apart into a bright smile, and he latches his arms around Oboro’s to shake rapidly. “Dude, I can’t believe you did that! You’re so smooth!”

Oboro blinks at him owlishly, still not comprehending what just happened. The flapping in the back of his mind is deafening, now. “Eh? What’d I do?” he asks.

Hizashi laughs loudly. “Don’t play coy with me, bro! You totally went, ‘fear not, my love. Even if this child is not mine, I shall support both you and the baby!’ That was so domestic it made me blush!” he squeals.

The puzzle pieces finally fit together in his brain, and a blush hits him with the speed of an oncoming train. Suddenly, he remembers the faint blush on her cheeks, and the tender pull of her smile. Although Nemuri is the type of person to extend a helping hand out to anyone in need, she rarely accepts help from anyone else. In spite of that, she’s letting him help her with taking care of her sister’s baby?

Oboro has no idea what expression is on his face right now.

“Oboro.” Shouta’s stern voice reaches his ears, grounding him before his brain could float into the sky like a balloon. He slowly turns to face the ravenette, and finds Shouta watching him with dark, serious eyes. “Do you have any idea what you just did?” he asks, his tone flat.

Oboro blinks slowly, his brain slow and muddled yet filled with thoughts moving at the speed of light. “I… said I’d help wit’ da baby…” he murmurs dumbly, the words feeling alien on his tongue. Shouta sighs.

The trio finally gather their wits and begin walking away from Nemuri’s doorstep. Oboro is suddenly thankful her apartment is on the first floor; he doesn’t think he has the motor skills to walk down stairs right now. “I know you said you have a little brother, but it’s been seven years since you had to change a diaper. Do you think you can handle this?” Shouta asks the taller boy, and Oboro wrings his hands together tightly.

“I mean, yeah, why not?” he replies, more so to convince himself. “Between me and Nemuri, how hard can it be?”

#Bnha #Bnha Vigilantes #Mha #Kayama Nemuri #Shirakumo Oboro #Aizawa Shouta #Yamada Hizashi #Shirakumo Oboro x Kayama Nemuri #CloudNight #Shirayama #Bnha Midnight #Loud Cloud #Eraserhead #Present Mic #Haha fuckers I told you I won't let this ship die

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acraftedmistake · 3 years

Text

Nether Time!

Cassie and Petra need to get stuff from the Nether! It’s been a while since they’ve done this.

“Nether time!” Petra sang as she leapt out the portal.

“Nether time!” Cassie Rose chimed as well, landing right beside her friend.

The two exchanged big grins with one another. Cassie was holding onto her outfit so tightly she thought it’d tear.

It’s been ages since they’ve been in their house together. Everything still looked and felt the same. The red and teal carpet was still covering the netherrack floor, still stained and torn, the walls were that weird combination of wood and netherrack that she remembers so fondly, shelves and counters surrounded them, holding both their’s and the previous owner’s items. Those four cushioned chairs they placed in the upper left corner of the house--the ‘kitchen’--have yet to move. The kitchen itself was just a few chests filled with food, a battered stove that stopped working years ago, and a cauldron with strange splatters in it. There were also the remains of their kitchen table. Used to be fine, sturdy wood, but when they first arrived at this house, monsters were trying to break in, so they had to use the base of the table and the legs to fend themselves. The decorations were still hung up too! Bells, chimes, other sorts of art pieces attached to strings that hung from the ceiling, just as Cassie remembers it.

Well, it technically isn’t ‘their’ house. Their portal just happened to appear inside this strange old place one day, and they claimed it. Finders keepers, you know? Besides, the previous owners were probably long dead.

“Come on, we need to get your pumpkin.” Petra made her way to the counters beside the portal. The countertops were covered with broken weapons, ores, and strange nik naks they found over the years, and sitting in the middle of it all: Cassie’s white pumpkin.

Petra grabbed the hollowed fruit and spun it around in her hands, “You’ll be happy to hear I’ve been taking good care of your other pumpkins back at the cave.”

“That’s impressive, considering you somehow managed to kill a cactus that one time.”

“Hey, I already told you that stupid cactus killed itself. I was gone for one day, and when I came back, it was dead. I did nothing wrong.” Petra denied as she tossed Cassie her pumpkin.

Cassie quickly dropped her extra set of clothes to catch her it, “Did you water it when the soil got dry?”

“It’s a cactus. Water’s irrelevant.” Petra avoided Cassie’s little glare by facing the counter again and sorting through the random items.

Cassie held the pumpkin in her hands and stared at it for a moment. It’s been a few years since she’s worn it last. Memories were flooding through her. She still remembered how she first got her hands on her first pumpkin; she stole it from a crazy old guy’s backyard. She just happened to spot it while walking through a random town one day, Petra told her ‘If ya like it, get it.’ And she did exactly that. It was a real strange pumpkin. When the two cut it open, it hardly had any guts, and the inside smelled like… Nothing. Well, it smelled ‘wet’ if that was possible. The sorta wetness you’d smell in a forest after it’d rain. They were surprised at how durable it was too, which soon sparked the amazing idea of shoving her head inside the pumpkin and using it for protective gear. It sounds ridiculous--heck, it probably looks ridiculous--but it works, and Cassie likes it, so that’s all that matters.

Cassie ended up planting the few pumpkin seeds years ago, and before she knew it, she had a bunch of = pumpkins to last.

Cassie can trust Petra with the pumpkin care, but she always makes sure to check in on them. That white pumpkin got her into plants, she even has a few houseplants back at home, but she’s still too embarrassed to tell anyone yet.

“Oh!” Petra snapped her fingers. She dashed back to the portal, shoved the upper-half of her body into the vortex, then came back out with her Wither Skull in hands. “Nearly forgot this bad boy.”

“I’m surprised that thing’s still in one piece.” Cassie said while she watched Petra grab a cloth from a chest in the kitchen.

“Right? This thing’s insane!” Petra exclaimed as she cleaned the inside of her painted skull. “One time I forgot it outside, a quake happened, and when I ran out to get it back, a tree landed on it and it was still in one piece.”

“You ever thinking of repainting it?” Cassie asked. She began putting on her long, oversized, dark blue pants over her leggings.

“Nah, the stripes are iconic. “ Petra tossed the cloth aside then shoved her head into the skull.

Cassie let out a grunt as she struggled to put her large long-sleeved shirt over her hoodie. She knew she was going to be drowning in sweat with three layers on, but that’s three extra layers of fire protection. When she finally got it on, she began tying the belt around her waist and slipped on her thick, brown gloves.

As she was adjusting her gloves, Petra handed her a crooked pickaxe and a worn-down sword.

“If I knew you were comin’ over today, I would’ve made some better tools for you.” Petra said. She was holding a blue backpack in her other hand that’s seen better days. One black strap had been completely torn off while the other was just barely holding on. There were holes where the buttons used to be. Hopefully it’ll be able to hold their stuff.

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Cassie said, holding the tools by the sides of her arms. “We’re just gonna pick up a few things anyways.”

Cassie stuck her head into the pumpkin.

“You ready?” Cassie asked, her voice muffled. She took the weapons out and held them firmly.

“Super ready.” Petra smiled as she watched Cassie twirl the tools around before shoving them into her pockets.

Petra swung open the front door, and a horrible heatwave rushed in and hit their faces. Cassie’s eyes watered. You’d think after all those years of exploring the Nether, she’d get used to it, but it always seems to get worse each time.

Petra held the door open with her foot and the girls made some quick, last-minute readjustments with their outfits.

Cassie glanced to the side and spotted a familiar sign hanging under the doorknob. It was a piece of oak wood with the words “No Boys Allowed” that she made as a joke. That was way back when they first spawned into this house.

“Why do you still have that old sign up?” Cassie asked, surprised it hadn’t burnt to a crisp.

“To keep the boys out.” Petra said casually as she closed the door.

“But we’re the only two here though.”

“All thanks to the sign.” A little smirk formed on Petra’s face.

Cassie rolled her eyes and gave Petra a playful shove as they went out into The Neighborhood.

The Neighborhood… A sweltering ghost town. Awakening members used to live here years ago. Their ‘homes’ were just hollowed out holes in netherrack hills, making the place look more like a Hellish wasp nest than a cozy neighborhood. The openings were usually covered in old wood, and their front doors were rather busted or missing. And the way these houses were placed in such unorganized clutters just felt… Wrong. People weren’t meant to live in the Nether.

Any leftover space was taken up by Nether portals. It didn’t matter if the space between the houses were huge or cramped, people found ways of making the portals fit. Maybe the Neighborhood looked real pretty when the portals were all activated, but they’ve been deactivated for years, and Cassie and Petra weren’t planning on lighting them up anytime soon. It was bad luck to reactivate dead portals.

“So what things you lookin’ for again?” Petra asked.

“Gold’s high on the list,” Cassie replied, “we also need extra iron, extra flint, and some netherrack just in case.”

“Awh shoot, what?!” Petra froze. Her tone turned serious.

“What? What’s up?!”

“Do you know how hard it is to find netherrack!? We’ll be looking around for hours!” Petra exclaimed, standing on the netherrack floor. Surrounded by netherrack hills. With a netherrack covered sky.

Cassie couldn’t see Petra’s face, but she KNEW she had that big, dumb smile.

Cassie gave her a quick bonk on the skull and bent down to gather an arms-full of netherrack chunks, all while Petra was laughing.

“Damn, talk about lucky.” Petra teased, “You always had a good eye for rare items.” She slipped the bag off her shoulders and opened the flap for Cassie.

“Yeah, yeah. You gonna be messing with me the entire time we’re here?” Cassie rolled her eyes as she shoved the netherrack into the sack.

“Awh, come on, it’s been almost two years since we’ve done this. I’ve missed ya.” Petra said. The two began walking again. “It’s really boring without ya, you know?”

“Man, has it really been two years?” Cassie stared at her feet, a feeling of guilt starting to gnaw at her.

“But I mean--mentally, it’s only been two days.” Cassie said, looking back at Petra.

“Ex-ACT-ly. Time doesn’t move unless we’re together. Common knowledge.” Petra gave her a grin. Cassie couldn’t see most of it, but she could feel it. It was reassuring.

The two stepped over a wooden bridge that was splayed out over the ground. It’s been there since day once, wood planks, rope, and all. They kept telling themselves they’re gonna move it, but they never do. It’s not like it’s a huge obstacle or anything.

There was a lotta stuff like that around the Neighborhood. If you looked up, you could see more bridges hanging between the hills, many of them missing their planks or dangling by their threads, and a bunch of the houses built into the top of the hills had staircases, ladders, or ramps that stretched all across the area. Cassie and Petra had the “fun” experience of finding out which ones were stable or not.

“So, shouldn’t we start looking through the houses or somethin’?” Cassie asked, her eyes scanning the dozens of houses they’d have to scour through.

There were still items in these houses. Even though this place was abandoned years ago, a looming presence remains. Dirty dishes sitting in cauldrons, rotting meals on kitchen tables, unfinished letters on desks, wrinkled blankets on unmade beds, all signs that this ghost town was once full of life. Petra and Cassie have spotted many weird trinkets The Awakening members have made; chunky jewelry, small dolls carved from nearby materials, chimes, and masks that lacked eyeholes. Many, many art pieces included the Awakening symbols: A red flower with hundreds of petals, their empty eye, and the Hero. Another thing many homes seemed to have were mirrors, but they were never in one piece. Instead, they were often broken into several large parts and tied to strings that’d hang from the ceiling, or arranged in odd shapes on the walls. Sometimes the shape would resemble their eye, but most of the time it looked like nonsense.

“Nah, I have a different place in mind.” Petra replied.

“Have we been there before?” Cassie tilted her head.

“Perhaps.” Petra said, “Just gotta wait and see.”

The two stayed on the path, which was a mix of netherrack, gravel, and soul soil, passing under the hanging decor above.

Wooden poles were on each side of the path with rope tied to the tops, connecting them together while chimes, flags, and glass hung from the threads. When a hot breeze came by, the Neighborhood would create its own music. The clinking of the glass, the flapping of banners, the clattering of metal chimes, and the creaking of wooden doors created this strange but soothing sympathy to fill the silence.

“How’re things with the other Jesse and Olivia goin’?” Petra asked, swinging her sword around.

“Frustrating.” Cassie huffed.

“Oh?”

“Things were kinda going okay until Aiden decided to basically blurt out what was happening to our Jesse. Now Stella’s all stressed out, and we gotta keep an eye out for that cult creep, and Aiden’s probably gonna be super bummed that he made poor little Jesse upset--” Cassie ranted.

“I remember bout Aiden spillin’ the beans.” Petra commented. “Sorry everything’s been stressful.”

“It’s been so freaky with those two around! I dunno if I should be happy, upset, but Hero, everytime I look at them for more than a minute I start to feel sick.” Cassie felt that familiar queasy feeling rising in her stomach, “I’m not saying they’re bad people or something, just that… Everything sucks. And having our Jesse running around isn’t helping.”

“I mean, it’s a weird situation. Don’t blame you at all for feeling that way. Heck, even when I first saw them I was thrown off. Felt like two freaks wearing Olivia and Jesse’s skins.” Petra noticed her friend falling behind and waited for her to catch up.

“That’s a fun way to put it.” Cassie said, trudging along.

“Jess and Liv,” Cassie mumbled, “they’re nice, but I can’t wait for them to go home. I wanna forget this ever happened. They make me miss those two all over again.”

“I can imagine.” Petra went quiet when Cassie joined her side. The sounds of the Neighborhood filled the air.

Petra extended her arm out, “I’m here for ya, though, ya know? If you ever wanna complain, cry, or get angry about that Radar guy, I’m always here.” It was hard to see it, but through the gaps of the skull’s teeth, Petra was giving her a smile.

“Thanks.” Cassie took one hand out of her pocket and went to lock arms with Petra, something they used to do years ago, “I mean it.”

“Course.” Petra said.

And with that, the two picked up the pace.

Petra glanced at her friend then glanced at the various portals surrounding them, “I’m gonna guess Jesse and Olivia didn’t walk through an obsidian portal, right?”

“No, some weird blue portal. Probably lapis. I wish it was somethin’ as easy as obsidian.” Cassie sighed. “I’m guessing you haven’t seen Jesse recently?” She asked.

“Nope.” Petra lied, “Not yet. I’ll let you know though.”

Cassie gave her a nod and looked ahead. They were nearing the Nether Fortress. Their Nether Fortress.

Seeing this place after so long… It was like seeing it for the first time again. The broken, tall towers, the bridge stretching across the sea of lava, the ruined railway system, it was so otherworldly. The only thing missing were those hundreds of monsters crawling around the place that Cassie and Petra used to beat up.

That wide open bridge over boiling magma--with the Fortress being so close--was just begging Cassie to run across it.

Petra noted Cassie’s excitement and unlocked arms with her.

“Go ‘head, I’ll be right behind ya.” Petra said with a grin, and on cue, Cassie bolted off to the entrance.

Memories of the two of them raced through Cassie’s mind. The hot air hitting her face, the colors blurring together, her feet stinging each time they hit the ground, it was just like old times. This was liberating.

“Hey, I’m winning!”

Cassie whipped her head at just the right time to see Petra taking the lead.

“Not for long!” Cassie hollered as she picked up the pace.

They were both set on the entrance. Cassie could see Petra out of the corner of her eye. She could feel the confidence radiating from her, like she knew she was gonna win. But not this time.

When Cassie was just feet from the entrance, she dived. She crashed into the ground, her pumpkin making a loud THUD when it hit the floor.

Before she could push herself up, Petra fell on top of her. She must’ve had the same idea.

Both of them were laying on the ground, panting and laughing.

“Pretty sure I won.” Petra finally said.

“Nu-uh, my hand made it past the entrance first!” Cassie shot back, still breathing heavily.

“Yeah, but your hand didn’t touch the ground first, so technically--”

“Since when were you about technicalities?!” Cassie exclaimed. Petra could hear the laughs between her words.

“Alright, if it’ll make you happy, then I’ll admit it…” Petra got up and helped Cassie to her feet. “We tied.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Welp, guess we’ll never know who won.” Petra shrugged. Cassie gave her a playful shove.

“Yeah, yeah.” Cassie adjusted her belt. The two stopped and faced an intersection of three hallways.

“Which way do we need to go?” asked Cassie.

Petra glanced at the wooden arrow signs above then pointed ahead, “Straight, then a left, then straight again.”

“Got it.” Cassie started walking and couldn’t help but snicker at the words on the signs. There were a bunch of those signs hanging around here, their original words have long since faded, so she and Petra took some creative liberties.

Cassie recalled those directions, they were heading towards the ‘Spicy Abyss’, which was the second bridge on the other side of the Fortress. It's in ruins, so the two of them just like to sit on the edge and enjoy the view.

The middle sign was ‘Lotsa Boxes’, which is the hallway they’re currently walking through. It’s a rather wide hall--nearly as wide as the bridge they just crossed--that’s filled with abandoned stalls, carts, and chests. The stalls had boxes in, on, and around them, the old carts had boxes in them, and the chests--the chests were already boxes. This place must’ve been a Trading Hall, a storage, or even a marketplace for the Neighborhood back then. The way everything was arranged reminded Cassie of the night-market in Obsidian Town; lots of trading, buying, and selling, except not in the middle of the blazing-hot Nether.

Banners hung from short poles in the walls, all shades of red, turquoise, and gold while covered with symbols and faded words advertising goods. When Cassie and Petra first found this place, they were surprised at how many tools, ores, and old books were left behind, so of course they gathered them all up and sold ‘em. Made them a great deal of money!

The two took a left and continued down another hallway. They were pretty close to ‘Petra Fell’; those were the words on the last sign. It was one of the three tall towers you could see through the windows. It was the shortest of the bunch, it’s upper half is completely missing, but it was the best place to climb and get a fantastic view.

Cassie and Petra haven’t been on top of that tower in years. The last time they were, Petra was playing around near the edge, stumbled, and nearly fell to her death had it not been for Cassie catching her. Petra’s been terrified of heights since then. Cassie can’t blame her.

It’d be nice to rush through that tower again with Petra, even if she didn’t want to go to the very top, it’d be a great… The tower…

It looked different.

Cassie couldn’t put her finger on it, but something was off. She could feel it.

“Hey, did that tower get shorter? Or have I just been gone for too long?” Cassie asked.

Petra didn’t even glance at the tower, “Already noticing my hard work, I see.”

“Hard work?” Cassie tilted her head. Petra didn’t elaborate. Cassie kept pestering her, but she wouldn’t budge until they reached the end of the hall.

Where there used to be a big, gaping hole was now covered up by tons of banners. They were sloppily sewn together, trying to hide every piece of the other side.

“So,” Petra began, “Remember how I said I had a different place in mind to find those items?”

“Yeah?” Cassie answered slowly.

“And remember how we always wanted to build that bridge to the other side of the Nether?” A grin grew on Petra’s face as she watched Cassie’s eyes light up.

Cassie gasped, “No, nu-uh, you did not!”

“I did.” Petra raised her brows. When Cassie took another step forward, Petra yanked the banners off to reveal a magnificent bridge that stretched across the sea of lava and connected to the other side of the Nether. It was a mish mash of netherrack, nether brick, gravel, and even some obsidian. There weren’t any rails on it, and Cassie was certain it hardly had any support underneath it.

It looked dangerous.

It looked fantastic.

Petra watched Cassie take all this in. She was bouncing in place, hands over her mouth, all excited like a li’l kid. Man, Petra could only imagine what Cassie’s face was like under that pumpkin. Her eyes were probably sparkling and she had that big, dorky smile that’s bright enough to light up this entire fortress.

“Oh Hero, oh--Oh I canNOT believe you!” Cassie exclaimed, grabbing Petra and shaking her excitedly before giving her a big hug.

“Hey, we always wanted to see more of the Nether together.” Petra chuckled, “Thought this would be a nice little surprise for when you came back.”

Cassie let go to look at the bridge again; Petra took a lungful of air.

“And don’t worry, it’s stable.” Petra said, “I’ve tested this bad boy out hundreds of times and only had several near death experiences.”

“Perfect, great! All I need to hear.” Cassie was revved up. She dug her feet into the ground, ready to blast off, but she stopped herself. “Agh, wait. I promised Aiden I’d come back home soon.”

“How soon?” Petra leaned against the wall.

“Like, by the end of tomorrow, I think?”

“Well, you got here at a pretty good time, so we got, what? Several hours to work with?” Petra tapped the skull’s chin, “If we’re fast enough, we could see some good sights and get your stuff. So whaddya say?”

Petra got closer to Cassie, “Wanna see how fast we can blast through this sucker?”

Despite the skull hiding her face, Cassie knew Petra was smiling, and Cassie smiled right back at her.

#mcsm #minecraft story mode #mcsm petra #mcsm cassie #fic #another part of apwhnpmcsmwasamcsm #it is like a half chapter!!#enjoy!!

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notchesandbullets · 4 years

Text

The Pirates of Awa (Protective!Soft!Jae-ha x Pirate!Reader)

(This is the first chapter of my fanfic, "Ryokuryuu's Lifeline" but I originally intended for this to be a oneshot, so it can be read as a standalone.)

Words: 3.5k

"Captain, I've got the—"

You stopped dead in your tracks at the sight of the unusual group before you. There were five of them, a tall man with black hair, a man with white hair and an abnormal claw for a right hand, a masked man draped in blue with a squirrel on top of his head, a young boy with feathers in his hair and a cloaked girl, red hair peeking out from underneath.

Your hand holding a bag full of food dropped down to your side, as you strode over to Captain Gi-gan. Jae-ha was near her, but the other crew was scattered all around the ship's deck, poised for a fight.

"Whoa, did I interrupt something?" You asked the captain, hands raised up in faux innocence. Captain Gi-gan's mouth quirked up in a smile, and she gestured to her side with her pipe. You grinned, hoisting yourself up on the ship's rail and leaned forward, resting your elbows on your legs.

The captain ordered the all fighters in the middle, and your eyes widened as the three tall men stepped forward, immediately getting surrounded by the pirates. You caught Jae-ha's gaze, raising an eyebrow questioningly. He smirked, tilting his head to the side, getting you to focus back on the fight unraveling in front of you.

Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open in shock as your comrades were wiped out in mere minutes.

"How are you feeling, Captain Gi-gan?" The tall man wielding a spear mocked, "Do you want us now?"

Ah... Jae-ha probably recruited them for our next mission.

"It's no use, Captain. Their strength is abnormal." Jae-ha spoke up, and you watched as he closed his eyes, leaning his head against the wall behind him. "It's like having three of me."

Captain Gi-gan tapped her pipe to her shoulder thoughtfully. "Very well." One by one, the pirates gradually began to pick themselves up off the floor.

"Y/N!" The captain called over her shoulder.

A wide smile spread across your face as you pushed yourself off of the railing, bounding over to the captain. Captain Gi-gan turned back to the mysterious but incredibly strong warriors. "Beat her and you pass."

"Captain!" Jae-ha protested immediately, lilac eyes filled with disbelief and concern. Captain Gi-gan shot him a sharp look, silencing him quickly.

Jae-ha turned to you, silently pleading, but you just shot him a reassuring smile, turning back to face your opponents as the three fighters began to circle around you.

"Hey, Hak," The man with white hair addressed the one with the large spear, "Are you sure it's a good idea to fight her? She's unarmed."

Even the masked man seemed reluctant to draw the sword strapped against his back. You rolled your eyes, drawing up your arms and curling your hands loosely into fists.

"White Snake, if you can't fight then you should stay back where it's safe." Hak shot back.

The white-haired man sputtered incredulously and you let out a laugh, eyes shining with excitement. "C'mon," You taunted, "Are you going to make me wait all day?"

Your three opponents shared a look before Hak rushed at you, swiping at your feet with his spear. You leaped clean over it, landing lightly on your feet. The wind rushed past you as you felt the strength behind his attack. He came at you again, and you dodged him again. At this point, the other two had started to join in. You crouched, then jumped back as you evaded the strikes aimed at you. You could tell, though, they were still holding back. Bringing up your arms in a defensive position, you feigned losing your footing, causing the masked man to stumble so his strike wouldn't hit you and you saw your opening.

Curling your hand into a fist, you punched him hard in the shoulder while he was off balance, and swept your leg under his feet. He fell down hard, sword landing a few paces away. You turned your attention back to the other two.

You heard a shout.

"Shin-ah!"

White hair streamed behind him as the man with the claw launched himself at you.

Your eyes twinkled with mischief and you sprang forward to meet him. His right hand grew abnormally large in size as you both got closer to each other. You ducked under it as he slashed at you, catching his upper arm from the outside and pushing down harshly on his shoulder, slamming him into the deck. Wood splintered under the force and you looked up, grinning as you caught the dark look in Hak's eyes.

This was what you wanted.

You moved first, darting forward precisely. He swung at you, much faster than last time, and you didn't get out of the way in time. Your cheek stung from the new abrasion, but you barely noticed it. Not missing a beat, you grabbed a hold of his spear the next time it danced closer to you, just missing the bladed end as you grabbed the staff firmly at its halfway point. Stepping closer to him, you thrusted the blade down firmly; using it as leverage to flip backwards, yanking it out of his hands. You landed in a low crouch right behind Hak as his weapon clattered on the wood deck a few feet away, kicking him forward in the back harshly. Hak tripped for a second before catching his footing, spinning swiftly on his heel to face you.

He didn't see your leg coming.

Your kick caught him ruthlessly in the side, sending him sprawling hard to the ground.

Hak's eyes held subtle approval as he picked himself up off the ship's deck. You readied your stance again, bouncing lightly on the balls of your feet as the three formed in a semi-circle in front of you.

"That's good enough." Captain Gi-gan interjected, effectively causing the four of you to relax. "You pass."

The boy and girl that arrived with Hak and the others let out a cheer at the captain's announcement, and you held out your hand for the fighters to shake.

"Great match." Despite the cut on your cheek, your eyes glowed brightly, body still buzzing with adrenaline. "It was fun! Let's have another one soon!"

Hak shook your hand, resting the other on your shoulder for a split second before he went back to the cloaked girl's side. The white-haired man followed suit a little more reluctantly, and the one called Shin-ah just tilted his head, looking adorably confused.

You shouldered past the crew who were looking at you with a mix of awe and admiration, breaking out of the crowd on the other side and joining Jae-ha's side. His eyes were shadowed by his green hair, and you bent your head, pouting.

"What's the matter, big guy?"

It was a running joke between the two of you, because he was so tall. He would often make fun of you, teasing you every second of the day and using his height as means to do so. You furrowed your brow in concern when he stayed unusually silent, but before you could inquire further, you were cut off.

"Go home." Captain Gi-gan's sharp voice cut through, startling both you and Jae-ha out of the bubble you two were in. You pushed through the crowd once more, this time, with Jae-ha trailing right behind you. He was so close to your back that you could practically feel the warmth radiating from his form.

You both arrived in time to see the white-haired man step forward. "If this person cannot join, then we—"

"Kija." The cloaked girl intervened, "It's fine. It's as Captain Gi-gan says."

Your eyes widened in astonishment.

It.. couldn't be...

"But..." You caught sight of familiar violet eyes flashing with grief and determination. "There's a reason I can't retreat either."

You didn't hear Captain Gi-gan's next words as you frantically pulled the pieces together in your mind.

Red hair.

Violet eyes.

Princess Yona was alive!!

Your mouth dropped open. The rest of her group was staring at you oddly, except for Hak, confused by your reaction.

"Princess?" You whispered. Yona's head shot up, recognition overcoming her features as a wide smile broke out across her face.

"Y/N?!"

You both reached for each other at the same time, meeting in the middle, embracing tightly.

"I can't believe it." You murmured in disbelief, "You're alive!"

Yona sniffled, nodding her head against your shoulder. You pulled back after a few seconds, wiping a few tears from the corner of your eye. You caught Hak staring at you, leaning against his spear leisurely with a cocky smile on his face.

You rolled your eyes with a grin. "Yeah, yeah, it's good to see you too."

Then, you turned to your captain, bewilderment flickering in Captain Gi-gan's gaze as she studied you.

"I trust her." You announced determinedly, "Will that be enough?"

Surprise flitted across Captain Gi-gan's features. You rarely said those words. It took months and many trials for her to gain your trust and even longer for Jae-ha, who you were closest to out of everyone in the crew.

You must've had some history with that girl. Captain Gi-gan noted to herself.

"She needs to complete a task to gain my trust. One that you cannot do." The captain said pointedly to you, noticing that your stance had widened defensively in front of Yona.

"It's okay," Yona placed a reassuring hand on your arm, causing you to look at the princess in surprise. "I can do this."

Captain Gi-gan gave the princess the task of collecting senjusou from the Vanishing Cape. It was a rare medicinal plant that had special properties, enabling accelerated healing. Her comrades had protested against it, but you didn't miss the way the young boy's eyes lit up at the prospect of faster healing, easily concluding that the kid, whose name you learned was Yoon, must have some knowledge in the medical area.

Jae-ha had taken Yona to complete her trial, and you stayed behind with everyone else that was left behind as well.

When you asked him directly about his knowledge on medicine, Yoon seemed taken aback, but then Hak bonked him on the head, answering for the pretty boy. "He patches us up after our fights and takes care of any other injuries."

Yoon rubbed where Hak hit him. "I wouldn't need to if you rare beasts would stop being so careless!" He snapped, glaring at the former general.

"So," You sauntered over to Hak as Kija began bowing, apologizing profusely to the pretty boy. "Glad to see that you're alive."

He grinned, uncrossing his arms, extending them for a hug. You laughed lightly, accepting it without hesitation.

"How long has it been?" He asked, pulling back.

"Several years at least." You concluded, counting your fingers.

Hak chuckled, ruffling your hair fondly as you tried to swat him away.

"Still causing trouble, I see." He teased.

You huffed. "Hak, you big meanie!" You whined childishly.

Yoon looked at you curiously. "How do you two know each other?"

You brought your arms up to rest against the back of your head. "I was a servant in the castle for years but then I left. I served as the late king's personal attendant."

"Speaking of which," Hak looked at you curiously. "Why did you leave?"

You shrugged, "His Majesty wanted me to see the world." Closing your eyes as you remembered what he said to you on that day,

Don't regret your life by not living it.

Then, you turned to Hak. "What brings you here all the way to Awa? Along with..." You glanced at his companions. "Everyone?"

"We're on a mission," Hak crossed his arms. "The Princess is searching for the four dragons."

"Yah, Thunder Beast!" The pretty boy hissed. "I thought we were keeping that a secret!"

Hak cocked his head to the side. "Not from Y/N."

You grinned, gaze turning serious as you faced his friends.

"I'm not a threat," You promised. "I would never bring harm to Her Highness."

Yoon eyed you suspiciously. "Why?"

You sighed crossing your arms against your chest. "Contrary to what you might think of me, I remain loyal to the late king, and Her Highness. I have no ulterior motives."

He frowned, not completely satisfied, but you ignored it. After all, you were used to it.

A pained smile broke out on your face but then, it suddenly vanished.

"There's a storm coming." Captain Gi-gan muttered to herself. "That girl's going to be in trouble if she doesn't hurry."

You and Hak exchanged a panicked look. He banged the blunt end of his spear against the deck, gaining the attention of the captain.

"Take me to her." He demanded, jaw set. The captain sighed but motioned for them to follow her as she made her way off the ship.

There was a knowing gleam in your eye, grinning slyly at Hak as you and the others trekked off the ship and up a grassy incline. "Still like her, do ya?"

"Shut up." He shot back, a pained smile stretched across his face and didn't reach his eyes.

You stopped dead in your tracks. "Wait, you really haven't told her?"

He sighed, "It's complicated."

You let the subject slide. There obviously was more to it, but he didn't seem in the mood to talk, his whole body tense the entire walk up to the cliff-side.

You could practically feel Hak's glare burning into you when they arrived, staring at the nearly vertical drop. "She'll be fine." You reassured him. "Jae-ha's with her."

"I don't trust Droopy-Eyes within an inch of my life." He mumbled.

You let out a hearty laugh, "Droopy-Eyes?!"

Hak grinned. "What? It fits him."

"Just like White Snake?" You smirked, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't call me White Snake!" Kija exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at you as a vein popped out of his forehead. You stuck out your tongue playfully in return.

Yona retrieved the senjusou and delivered it to Captain Gi-gan. You shared a side glance with Hak as they returned back, soaking wet. Your expression cleared when Yona explained that she nearly was swept off the cliff, but Jae-ha saved her.

That she didn't accomplish it without his help.

But then, as Yona announced she would go back down and get it by herself this time, you couldn't help it. Barking out a laugh, they all turned their attention towards you.

"Sorry, sorry," You apologized, waving your hand, "You've just come a long way since back then, haven't you, Your Highness?"

The red-haired princess beamed at the praise, but there was a sadness behind it. You patted her on the shoulder comfortingly, glancing up at Jae-ha, who had yet to meet your gaze. You frowned. The others went to Yona as you walked over to the brooding green dragon, smiling for a second as you faintly heard Yoon yelling and scolding the princess for being an idiot. You knew he was just worried about her.

"Yah, Jae-ha." You elbowed him in the ribs, frown deepening when he didn't playfully push you away or make a teasing comment about wanting to touch him. "What's the matter with y-"

You were cut off as he grabbed your chin, tilting it upwards so that you could face him. Your heart started to beat faster, his face was so close to yours. Gently, with the utmost care, he moved your head to the side, eyes darkening as they landed on the strip of blood stark against your cheek. The blood had since dried since the sparring match, but you didn't get a chance to clean it, so it still stung faintly.

Jae-ha's jaw clenched at the sight, not missing the way you tried to hide your wince as he brushed over your cut. His violet eyes grew dark, fixating on Hak.

The Thunder Beast looked up, rubbing the back of his neck guiltily. He could practically feel Jae-ha's glare burning into him.

The green dragon bared his teeth, breath becoming heavier as his eyes flashed in anger and Hak took a step back, trying to ease the tension and show that he wasn't a threat.

"Jae-ha..." You murmured softly, still standing between them, acting as a shield.

He barely heard your soft voice through the red haze, jolting a little bit more out of it as he felt your fingers tentatively brush against his hand. His chest was still heaving and he looked like he was about to murder the former general.

"Jae-ha..." You hushed gently. Taking a chance, you wove your fingers together with his, bringing your other hand up to embrace him carefully.

"It's okay," You whispered, breath hot as it fanned against his neck. You closed your eyes. "I'm okay."

Jae-ha closed his eyes, releasing a shaky breath as he slowly began to calm down and come back to you. You held him close to you, repeating words of reassurance until he fully relaxed against you.

After his breathing had steadied for a few moments, you dropped your arm and tried to pull back. You were stopped, your hand still joined with his. You looked at him, puzzled. "Jae-ha?"

A small gasp escaped from your lips as you felt his other arm curl around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. You were sure you were red by the heat you could feel on your face. Looking up at him questioningly, you were surprised to find him staring straight back at you, unusually serious.

He dropped his face down close to your ear. "Don't scare me like that again." He whispered brokenly. Your mouth opened in shock as realization dawned on you.

He was worried...

You nodded slightly, and you swear you felt him hug you tighter. Then, the two of you pulled apart. You did your best to squash the rising disappointment and ache at the loss of contact, blushing when you turned around and saw everyone else staring at the two of you.

You had forgotten that they were there.

Jae-ha shot Hak one last warning look, which the Thunder Beast dipped his head in grim understanding.

If he ever hurt you again, Jae-ha would not hold back, no matter how much he was impressed by Hak's combat skills. Your safety came first before anything else.

Shortly after, Captain Gi-gan had let Yona join, thoroughly impressed by the young girl's stubbornness and sheer will, and the group had dispersed. The captain, Shin-ah, Kija, Yoon and the pirates went back to the ship for dinner, with the pretty boy snapping at the pirates' teasing remarks the whole way back. Yona had held back and then disappeared in the opposite direction, the others too far ahead to notice she was not with them.

You looked in concern at Yona's retreating form, turning to Hak, who just shrugged his shoulders before following the princess. You made a move to follow the pirates, stopping when you noticed that Jae-ha wasn't following you.

"What do you need?"

Jae-ha looked up in surprise at your genuine tone. He let out a sigh, "Nothing, don't worry about me."

You crossed your arms, sticking your bottom lip out in an adorable pout that made Jae-ha unable to contain a fond smile.

"Don't you remember what I told you would happen if you tell me not to worry?" You questioned, mischief twinkling in your eyes. His brow furrowed in confusion for a second before the memory came flooding back to him full force.

"Y/N," Jae-ha protested, backing away with his hands out in front of him to ward you off. "Wait!"

You didn't.

Running full speed, you launched yourself at him with a battle cry, tackling him to the ground. He landed with an 'oof', wrapping his arms securely around you as you two slid back several feet, before stopping just short of the treeline.

"Geez..." Jae-ha's eyes fluttered shut as he caught a whiff of sweet jasmine from your hair. It washed over him in waves, bringing with it a soothing sense of comfort.

Of course, having you so close, it was proving to be difficult to calm himself down.

He looked down at you, who was snuggled in his arms contentedly, your arms circling around his neck.

"I warned you..." You mumbled into his shoulder. "You can't push me away. I'm not going anywhere."

Jae-ha felt his heart beat a little faster.

"Now, what do you need?" He caught the concern in your eyes and contained a tremble as a flood of emotions almost overwhelmed him.

Pulling you impossibly closer to him, he rested his chin on top of your head. "Stay with me?" He asked you quietly.

You closed your eyes.

"Always."

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letswritebangtan · 4 years

Text

Let’s Get Tattoos Together

pairing: tattooartist!Jungkook x female!reader

prompt: Jungkook dreamed of opening his own tattoo parlour with his hyung, Yoongi, and when he finally did, you show up on his doorstep asking for a job and he’s not happy to give it to you. Lord knows how you two end up having sex in his studio. :)

warnings: mature content! 18+ read at your own risk.

ask box: open

masterlist

_________________________________________________________

You know those moments where you expect too much and then feel more pissed than let down because damn they fucked up bad? That moment was now. Jungkook and Yoongi stared up at the neon signboard in utter disgust and shame just thinking about how someone could screw up this bad.

“It’s not even black.” Jungkook muttered in disbelief.

“It’s neon.” Yoongi confirmed.

“They didn’t even get the spelling right.” Jungkook continued.

Yoongi huffed “. . . What’s ‘BONKED’ supposed to read as?”

“Sounds like a strip club.”

“Yup.” Yoongi said popping the ‘p’.

“We can’t afford a new one, hyung.” Jungkook whined.

“You don’t think I know that?” Yoongi said gruffly.

He was beyond irritated at this moment. Both him and Jungkook had poured their entire life savings into opening this tattoo parlor and he was one hundred percent sure that absolutely no one was ever going to walk into a painful neon green store called BONKED to get a tattoo or to get anything for that matter.

“We’ll just have to make do.”

“I feel like I’m gonna barf.” Jungkook mumbled.

“Well your barf on this building won’t make it look any worse.”

The weeks went by and the boys worked hard to start up this little business of theirs. Jungkook spent hours walking around handing out flyers to people to let them know that what they were standing in front of was indeed a tattoo parlor and not some front for a shady business. Meanwhile, Yoongi sat indoors and worked on how he could at least make the inside of the store look decent. It was a tough few months for them but they kept going. A few customers popped in once in a while and it was mostly Yoongi who worked on them because between him and Jungkook, he was more experienced and they wanted to leave a good first impression on their customers.

Jungkook spent his after-hours in the store working on sketches and practicing on himself. He was running out of space on his right arm so it was time for him to start thinking of where to go next. Even though Yoongi was more experienced, Jungkook was incredibly talented in his field. His attention to detail and the focus he had when working on a piece was flawless. Jungkook didn’t tattoo often, but when he did, his work always turned out to be perfect.

A few months into the business was when things started to get a lot more rocky.

“Did you clear out the register yesterday?” Yoongi asked.

“Yeah, they’re in the safe.”

“We need to start doing our accounts, Jungkook-ah. Let’s see if we have anything we can use to change this place up a little.”

Hours and hours into doing their accounts the two fell face-flat onto their desks.

“We have nothing. Zero.” Jungkook mumbled.

“Actually, it’s negative. We’re in a deficit.”

The two of them groaned and flipped through more receipts and bills in hopes of some good news but they couldn’t do it.

“I guess I’ll grab some dinner.” Jungkook said as he stood up and cleared the table.

“Make it quick, I’m starving.”

“Okay, grandpa.” Jungkook mocked and Yoongi sent him a glare, making the youngest snicker.

The bell chimed and their attention moved immediately to the door. They watched you in surprise as you entered the store around 5 minutes before closing time. Looking around, you got slightly startled when you saw two guys gawking at you, but you cleared your throat and stepped forward slightly.

“Uh hi, you guys aren’t closed yet are you?”

There was a small silence for a while. Jungkook couldn’t find it in himself to speak so Yoongi took over.

“We aren’t, but if you’re looking to get a job done you’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you smiled nervously, “Actually I’m not here for any of that. I noticed that you guys are relatively new in the area and I was wondering if you needed any help around here?”

Yoongi looked confused, “As in, you’re looking for a job?”

You nodded.

Jungkook spoke up, “As a tattoo artist?” he said skeptically. His tone sounded offended and it struck you as quite rude.

You frowned at him, “No actually, not as a tattoo artist but as anything else.”

“Sorry, we don’t need anybody.” Jungkook dismissed you gruffly.

God, why was he being so rude?

“Really? I couldn’t help but notice that you guys aren’t doing too well here.” you spoke back.

Jungkook eyed you up and down. “Excuse me? What makes you say that? We’re doing great and business is booming. Isn’t that right, hyung?” he looked at the older man.

“Um, well it hasn’t-”

“See? Just fine.” Jungkook retorted.

“That’s a lie. I can tell if businesses are doing well or if they aren’t.” you crossed your arms smirking.

“Can you now? What makes you think ours isn’t?” Jungkook scoffed.

“Well for starters, I don’t see anybody in here-”

“We’re about to close.” Jungkook defended.

“I didn’t finish.” you said raising your eyebrows. “I don’t see anybody in here ever.”

Jungkook scowled, he was annoyed at the audacity of this random stranger to be entering his store and criticising his business.

“Secondly, no one around here knows what this store does. I spoke with the lady from the bakery across the street and she claimed that this was some kind of gay bar?”

Yoongi and Jungkook looked perplexed and their expressions had you holding in your laughter.

“It wasn’t until my friend came in the other day for a tat, that he told me this place was actually just another tattoo parlor.”

“Jesus Christ.” Yoongi huffed.

“Oh and also, the sign-”

“Don’t even.” Jungkook huffed and looked away.

You felt proud of yourself, but at the same time looking at these young, passionate boys’ faces you knew they must have put in a shit ton of effort to get this place up and running, and you had no right to just come in here and point out their flaws like that. What they needed was a solution.

“With all that being said,” you paused momentarily. “I can help you guys fix it.”

“I told you that we don’t need-”

“Jungkook, shut up for a moment will you? Go on.” Yoongi urged you.

“I majored in Accounts and Finance, I also have knowledge and experience on marketing, plus I’ve got a decent eye for things and that being said, that signboard has got to go.”

“Accounts? Wait, take a look at these.” Yoongi called you over to the table and Jungkook just watched in disbelief. The betrayal he felt from his hyung was unbelievable.

You stood over the table which looked like a mess, by the way. Papers strewn everywhere, random documents, some cash pile in the corner and a half-full mug of coffee.

“Sorry, it’s a little gross.” Yoongi apologised.

You chuckled, “It’s no big deal. Could I have a look at those receipts?”

The two guys watched you as you silently picked up different sheets of paper and scanned it thoroughly, mumbling numbers to yourself in the process. Well, these guys weren’t doing too bad but you knew they could do better. You glanced at the pile of cash at the corner of the desk and looked over to Yoongi.

“What’s that?”

“Hyung, she’s after our money.” Jungkook said quickly.

You glared at him and he shot you one back. Why was he out to get you? Despite his annoying traits, you couldn’t deny the fact that he was extremely good-looking. Well, the both of them were. But there was something about Jungkook that had you drooling in that small secret compartment of your head. He was well-built, his pecs pushing out through his t-shirt, his sleeves clinging to his biceps and his defined collarbones on full view. His hair was like a black mop, it looked soft and silky and it framed his face nicely. He had a really cute nose and the softest looking eyes but his expression was harsh towards you and you had no idea why.

“It’s what we owe. We’re running in a bit of a loss right now.” Yoongi said ignoring Jungkook.

“A loss?” you asked confused. “That shouldn’t be right, look.” you moved to sit next to Yoongi and showed him the contents on the paper. After explaining to him in detail you moved the pile of cash from the end of the table towards them.

“This is all yours, you guys. You’ve been looking at it wrong. This shop isn’t doing too bad, but it isn’t great either. If this keeps up, you’ll probably start making losses in the next 3 months or so. But you might not, if you’ll let me help.” you persuaded.

“And I’m not here to steal your money.” you said pointedly to Jungkook. “In fact, I won’t ask for anything for the first few months. When I’ve proven that I’ve improved this store and when you can afford it, you can pay me then. What do you guys say?”

Yoongi looked convinced, and he turned to the youngest to ask for his approval.

“Looks like we need her after all, Jungkook.”

Jungkook squinted his eyes at you and took a deep breath, letting out a loud huff. “Fine, so be it.” he said grumpily.

You beamed and thanked them, Yoongi even shook hands with you.

“Hold on, you didn’t even tell us your name.” Yoongi asked.

“Oh shit, right. I’m sorry that was rude of me, I’m y/n.” you apologised.

“I’m Min Yoongi, and this is Jeon Jungkook. We’ve been friends since kindergarten, so we’re pretty close. It’s been a dream of ours to open this place.” Yoongi said smiling softly.

“That’s amazing, you guys should be proud that you’ve gotten here.” you said genuinely.

Jungkook glanced at you then and you made eye contact with him. He awkwardly picked up his car keys and phone whilst looking away from you.

“I’ll go grab dinner before they close.” he spoke to Yoongi.

“Oh no, did I hold you guys back? I’m sorry, you should really have your dinner. I’ll leave now.” you stood up.

“That’s alright, oh and Jungkook will walk you to your car, won’t you Jungkook?” Yoongi asked smirking.

Jungkook looked startled and had that same look of betrayal on his face, this time there was a shade of pink.

“What? But she can- ugh fine.” Jungkook grumbled. “Hurry up.” he snapped at you and you rolled your eyes at him.

“You’ll have to excuse him, don’t take it personally.” Yoongi said to you once Jungkook was outside.

“Well that’s gonna be tough.” you replied playfully. “See you tomorrow! Good night.” you said cheerily and followed Jungkook outside.

____________________________________________________

Your first week at the job went by pretty quickly. Yoongi showed you around so you’d get used to the place. He showed you to your working space which wasn’t the best but it was the best that he could afford. There was that desk you used when you first entered, and there were some cute little plants on the table. They even gave you new pens, pencils and a calculator. There was a desk fan attached to your table and its wires were heavily tangled everywhere but it was all they had. It was obvious that they did their best to welcome you, and you felt touched about it.

Most of your time was spent doing the accounts of course, and you were really efficient with them. It was a really relaxed work environment, sometimes Yoongi showed up with coffee or some snacks which you appreciated. Jungkook would ask to borrow a pencil from time to time, and as much as you were mad at him you couldn’t say no because they probably gave you everything they had to make a good first impression and the thought that they couldn’t afford to buy more pencils saddened you. During your breaks you’d lounge around and maybe check up on Jungkook to see what he was drawing. Whenever you’d ask him he’d always reply with an annoyed grunt or he’ll shoo you away.

One day, you really tried to find that goodness in your heart to do something nice for Jungkook so that maybe he wouldn’t be so pissy towards you, so you bought him a carton of banana milk and a pack of oreos. When you handed it to him, he looked at you so weirdly and you became so uncomfortable that you never wanted to be in situations with him like that ever again. So the acts of kindness stopped. There was also another thing you made yourself be in charge of: weekly meetings. Yoongi always told you that you didn’t have to make it so official since it was just the three of you working just like how three friends worked on a group project but you insisted.

“Do I really have to write all this down?” Jungkook complained.

“Aren’t you secretary?” you scolded.

“Well yeah, but I didn’t have a choice.”

“So you better do your job before I fire you.”

Jungkook gaped at you and turned to Yoongi. “Hyung are you hearing this?!”

“Don’t make her fire you, Jungkook.”

It was about 10 weeks later and you were close to hitting the target set for the store. It was important that you proved to them that you were good at your job and that you deserved a place here. You didn’t want to leave, because it was really nice working with them. You felt secure and they were like your friends, or at least Yoongi was. That night, you stayed after closing time to continue working on statements. Something just wasn’t working, and you had to figure out what. After hours of staring at the same numbers over and over again you felt like you needed a break. Just then, Jungkook entered the corner of your workspace.

“You’re still here?” he asked surprised.

You nodded, “Well I’m not finished so yes. I don’t think I’m leaving anytime soon.”

“Well don’t stay up too late.”

Surprised, you looked up at him so fast that you startled him slightly.

“That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” you laughed softly as you stretched your body in your chair.

He scoffed, “I only said that because I’m the one who has to close up after you so if you don’t leave neither can I.”

“Thanks for ruining the moment.”

“My pleasure.” he replied with a smug smile.

Rolling your eyes, you stood up from your chair and grabbed your phone and purse. “I’m going to get some coffee, want anything?” you asked.

“Coffee at 10 p.m.?” he asked while judging you.

“Well, I guess that’s a no.” you mumbled and headed to the door.

“Wait.” he called out. Turning around abruptly you didn’t expect him to be that close behind you that you ended up crashing into his chest. You stumbled but he caught you by your shoulders to steady you. He was looking right at you and this was physically the closest the two of you had ever been.

“Easy there, if you’re hurt Yoongi will literally rip me apart.” he mumbled.

Trying to ignore the redness in your cheeks you smiled awkwardly and stood upright as Jungkook let go of you. “I don’t blame him.” you shrugged and laughed when you saw Jungkook’s annoyed expression.

“Wait, I forgot why we ended up here. What was it you asked me?” you said.

“Right, I was uh- just you know thinking of maybe asking if you’d like me to drive you...to the coffee shop...” he said nervously.

“Wow.” was all that you replied, and Jungkook looked even more embarrassed.

“Forget it.” he said moving away.

“No! Sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-just, yeah. Drive me, I’d like you to drive me there, please?” you asked quickly.

Surprised by your sudden reaction he felt his heart relax a little when you didn’t reject his offer.

“Okay cool.” he said clearing his throat awkwardly.

It was really quiet in the car, and also really awkward. There was so much tension with that embarrassing encounter the two of you had just five minutes ago. You tried to take your mind off it, and your thoughts aimlessly wandered to how handsome Jungkook looked while he was driving. His hair covered his eyes a little, and you could see all the piercings on his left ear. That’s hot, you thought to yourself. His tattoos on his right arm were visible as he gripped the wheel with that hand and at this point you were shamelessly staring at him.

“Enjoying the view?”

You hummed, and then snapped out of your daydreaming only to see Jungkook chuckling at you.

“I mean, no! I was just- I was looking out the window and I wasn’t really looking anyway I was thinking and your biceps were distracting so I-wait! No no no, shit what’s wrong with me?” you freaked.

Jungkook only laughed even more at this and then turned to look at you.

“Does y/n have a crush?” he teased.

You looked at him with a deadpanned expression, “Are you seriously teasing me about a guy when that guy is you?”

“So you are crushing on me. Interesting...”

“Oh my god, shut up! I am absolutely not, in no way attracted to you.”

“Ouch.” he winced playfully.

“You heard me.” you grumbled as you turned to look the other way so he couldn’t see the blush on your cheeks. You thanked god that it was dark and he couldn’t see you red all over.

He snickered and pulled up in front of the coffee shop.

“I’ll wait here, could you grab something for me too? Surely you’d do anything for me since you know, you like me and all...” he continued to tease.

You grabbed your phone and purse and stormed out of the car. “I ain’t getting shit for you, asshole!” you yelled as you walked away which had Jungkook dying of laughter since literally everyone around was staring at you.

Back at the store, you sipped on your coffee as you worked out more numbers. Jungkook sat on the beanbag across from you sketching by himself. Yoongi had already left a while ago so it was just the two of you.

As you were writing something down Jungkook spoke up.

“How’d you know that this was my usual?” he asked holding up the coffee cup.

You looked up from the paper and looked back down, pushing your work glasses up your nose. “One time, Yoongi accidentally handed me your drink instead of mine and when I took a sip it tasted like garbage so followed my intuition and I ordered the worst thing in there.” you said plainly.

“My drink is not garbage.” Jungkook retorted.

“Yes it is, it’s not even coffee. It’s all milk and sugar.”

“Well I’m a milk and sugar person, what’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong is your offending the real coffee-drinkers out there.”

“There’s nothing wrong with adding milk and sugar to your drinks.” Jungkook whined and you couldn’t help but to smile at him being effortlessly cute.

“Okay, whatever you say.”

But Jungkook wasn’t too happy with that response. “Say it like you mean it.” he ordered.

“Excuse me what?” you looked at him confused.

“Say that there’s nothing wrong with my drink.” he demanded.

You scoffed, “What are you, eight?”

“Well if you’re not gonna say it...” he shrugged.

You ignored him and went back to work. A few seconds later you nearly had a heart attack because Jungkook was pouring some of his coffee into yours.

“What the hell!” you yelled and tried to grab the cup from him and both your coffee’s ended up spilling all over the accounts sheets.

You just stood there in shock and disappointment as you stared at the soaking wet paper that could not be saved. You pinched the bridge of your nose and took in a sharp breath. “Jungkook.” you muttered lowly.

The poor boy was also in shock, knowing he fucked up badly and now he was going to have to pay for it.

“I- it was an accident I didn’t intend to-”

“Why are you such a brat?! You couldn’t just leave it could you?! I spend day after day rotting my ass off here trying to crunch these numbers and when I’m so close to finding something you had to shove your annoying ass into my work-do you know how much time has been wasted now that all these are gone and Yoongi is going to kill me if I don’t get this done in time even though it was your fault! And no, I will never admit that there’s anything fine with your drink, you or your stupid!-mmpfh”

It came to you as a shock when you realised you had a pair of lips pressed against yours. They were soft and they molded against yours perfectly making you weak in the knees. A hand cupped your face and brought you closer, your waist pressing against the table in front of you. Your hands rested below you on the desk as Jungkook kissed you, capturing your lips with his over and over again until you pulled away breathless. You couldn’t think with your mind in a haze. Jungkook looked at you in silence, waiting for you to say something, but all you could do was fall back to the chair behind you.

“y/n?” Jungkook said concernedly.

You cleared your throat and stood up quickly again. “I-I’ll get the mop and bucket.” you said softly before running out of there into the storage closet and shutting the door behind you.

You cursed yourself for reacting so stupidly. Jungkook must think that you hate him, but obviously you don’t. You really, really, like him, especially after having the feeling of his lips on yours - oh god, you fucked up. You remembered his scared and hurt expression when you scurried away like that. The worst part was that you had to go back out there. When you returned with the mop and bucket, Jungkook was gone, but so was the mess. He had cleaned up all by himself, wait, how long were you in there? You sighed and saw that he had left the store key for you to lock up, which means he had probably gone home. You had no idea how it had escalated to arguing about coffee, to this. But you knew that you’d rather be buried alive than to ever have to face Jungkook again.

_____________________________________________________

Yoongi had asked if you could pick up breakfast that morning since both him and Jungkook had an appointment and of course, you agreed. Business was picking up recently because let’s face it, you’re great at this job. Even though you lost those numbers since they got soaked in coffee, you managed to work your way around it and pulled up some income statements and cash book entries which clearly showed how well the store was profiting. You and Jungkook have not spoken since the incident and that was more than a week ago, and it was killing you. You wanted to talk to him and explain yourself but you were too scared. Plus he has been extra mean to you ever since, which made you not want to apologise even more. The only time he ever said something to you was when you were in the way and he practically snapped at you to move. That’s gotta hurt.

Most of the time you’ve been coming up with ways to avoid him, but today was not that day since you had to hand him his breakfast. You entered the main room where Yoongi was working and dropped his off. He thanked you and immediately went back to work. You were kinda disappointed, you had hoped Yoongi would give Jungkook’s breakfast to him but that was unrealistic so you guessed that now you would have to face a painful and awkward situation. After taking a deep breath you knocked on the door. You heard a muffled ‘come in’ and you stepped into the room. To say you felt awkward was an understatement. You wanted nothing more to crawl into a hole and die.

There was a female customer on the tattoo chair with the top half of her body completely bare and sitting in only her panties. Jungkook was leaned over her tattooing her breast and stopped to look at you. There was a warmth rising to your face as you just stood there and stared at them for a moment.

“What do you want?” Jungkook asked annoyed.

That snapped you out of your thoughts as you held up the bag shakily. “U-uh breakfast!” you might have said a little to loudly and then cursed yourself for it.

“I-I’ll just leave it here.” you mumbled quickly and put the bag of food down on the desk.

“Would you like anything?” you heard Jungkook ask the lady.

She giggled, “If you don’t mind sharing.”

Your face twinged in disgust, luckily you had your back facing them.

“Sure.” Jungkook replied shortly.

“Could you go a little higher, like over here?” you heard the lady ask and when you turned around to leave you saw her guiding Jungkook’s hand across her bare body and something inside you just made you feel so hurt and so shitty.

Jungkook’s eyes locked with yours. You immediately looked away and left the room. You couldn’t describe how you felt. This was Jungkook’s job, it was what he was passionate about, but you couldn’t stand to see people take advantage of that. He had just kissed you so passionately a week ago and of all days it was today that you had to bring him breakfast, and it was today that he had to have an appointment for a fucking breast tattoo. You groaned and muttered a string of curses as you walked back to your desk to eat your own breakfast. You chomped down on your egg McMuffin and got to work, hoping it would distract you from what you just saw.

An hour later Jungkook emerged from his room with the lady and readied her bill. The cash register was just opposite from where you sat so you watched them closely. Jungkook smiled and thanked the lady and obviously she enjoyed that attention but you were relieved when she finally left. Jungkook turned around to walk back into the room when he saw you watching him and his demeanor somersaulted upon looking at you.

“What?” he snapped coldly and you jumped in your seat a little.

You shook your head and looked back to the papers would were scribbling on, “N-Nothing.” you whispered.

He went back to his studio as Yoongi came out of his to get more plastic wrap.

“What’s up with you two?” he asked concerned.

“It’s complicated.” you huffed.

“I’ve never seen him that mad before.”

Hearing that was like having an arrow shot into your heart. You were right, he really did hate you.

“I-I..” you said with your voice breaking.

Yoongi looked alarmed, shit, what should someone do if a girl cries?

“It’s all my fault.” you sniffled as tiny droplets fell across your cheeks.

“Okay, no, nope. None of that. You are not crying, missy, you hear me? You are strong, and bold, and confident, and you aren’t crying over some stupid guy. Got that?”

You sniffled and wiped your tears away quickly and straightened up.

“That’s it. y/n you walked into this store on your first day like a boss and you criticised us left and right and you put this place into shape. You’re freaking superwoman, okay? You shouldn’t be crying.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s unprofessional.” you mumbled.

Yoongi sighed and sat down next to you. “Don’t be sorry. And we’re friends, there’s no need to be professional around me.”

“We are?” you asked smiling slightly through your watery eyes and puffy cheeks.

“Of course we are. And as your friend, I really suggest you talk to Jungkook.”

You shook your head, “But he’s scary.”

“Jungkook puts on a tough demeanor but he’s a kid at heart. He’d never do anything to harm you, you can count on that.”

You nodded and smiled softly at him, “Thanks, Yoongi.”

“What are friends for, hm?”

________________________________________________________

Now you had a task at hand. Talk to Jungkook. You just had to talk to him. No big deal, it’s just talking. To Jungkook. Fuck, you had to talk to Jungkook. Slamming your pen down you ran your fingers through your hair and whined. It was about time you grew a pair but it wasn’t that easy. Time flew as you sat at your desk and pondered about what to say and when to say it. It drove you crazy. Until one fine moment, all your courage rose from the pit of your stomach and you stood up determined to talk to the guy. Just as you maneuvered around your table to go to him the bell chimed. Hot damn, who was that?

This guy had a face sculpted by god himself. He was tall with brown hair, his wrists adorned with multiple strings and bracelets. His silver piercings shining under the store lights. The way he dressed really stood out to you, a beret on his head, sunglasses and patterned clothes, he really reminded you of a gucci model. He smiled at you as you walked over to him and you smiled back waving at him.

“Hi, do you have an appointment?” you asked.

He removed his sunglasses and wow he looked even better.

“Oh no, I don’t. I’m actually here for the job? My name’s Kim Taehyung, I saw the sign outside.”

You had convinced Yoongi and Jungkook to finally place a “We are hiring” sign on the window because they could now afford it, plus, it would attract more attention.

“Oh I see! So you’re a tattoo artist?” you asked interested.

“Well, I’m hoping to be.” he said making the two of you giggle.

“Well are you good?” you inquired.

“Hmm, I would say I have a few things up my sleeve.”

You raised your eyebrows, “Really? Well let’s hope you impress us.”

“I hope that I shall.”

The two of you laughed together again, man you really liked this guy.

“What’s going on here?” you heard a deep voice. Jungkook appeared from his room and scowled at the two of you laughing together.

“Oh, t-this is is Kim Taehyung, he’s here for the job.”

Taehyung reached out to shake Jungkook’s hand but he left him hanging.

“Another case of y/n, hm? That’s not too good.”

You gaped at him and you were about to retort when Yoongi joined in.

“Ah, you must be Taehyung.” Yoongi said smiling.

Taehyung finally felt comfortable seeing a familiar face. “Yes, and you must be Yoongi hyung. Nice to finally meet you.”

“Pleasure’s mine. A friend of mine knew Taehyung in art school and he recommended him to me. Let’s see if you’re as good as Seokjin claims you are.” Yoongi said.

Taehyung laughed, “I promise to do my best.”

So that led to the current situation. The three of you huddled around Taehyung watching him work on a piece. He had gotten one of his friends to demonstrate the piece for him who’s name you learned was Jung Hoseok who was also pretty cute. You were questioning the odds of you being surrounded by attractive men all at one time wondering if the universe had something planned for you. But you ignored it to watch Taehyung working. One thing you’ve noticed since working here is that every tattoo artist has their own unique style. They were all different, yet all so incredible. Taehyung had the same amount of focus and concentration Jungkook always had when he was working. Yoongi was always more relaxed, his talent flowing from him naturally. However, Taehyung could perfect designs neither Yoongi or Jungkook had ever done before.

The buzzing stopped and Taehyung stepped back to review his work. Everyone was in awe, he did a really great job and Yoongi loved it so much that he asked Taehyung if he could post it on their shop’s Instagram.

“That depends,” Taehyung said, “Are you going to hire me?”

Yoongi chuckled, “Need I say any more? y/n, what do you think?”

You smiled, “I think he’s great.”

“What do you know about tattoos?” Jungkook snapped.

You looked at him angrily and he ignored your stare.

“For a tattoo artist it’s surprising you don’t have any tattoos.” Jungkook questioned.

Taehyung frowned, “Do I need to have them?”

Jungkook looked slightly dumbfounded with everyone staring at him. “No-I mean, it’s just surprising-”

“Yeah it is.” Taehyung ended the conversation abruptly.

Jungkook rolled his eyes and looked away.

“It’ll be great if you could start today. We have a customer coming in anytime now.” Yoongi said.

“But he’s scheduled for me.” Jungkook spoke up unhappy.

“You can take the 3 o’ clock, Jungkook.” Yoongi dismissed.

Jungkook licked his lips, obviously irritated by Yoongi’s decision.

“I never got your name?” Taehyung turned to ask you.

“Oh, it’s y/n!” you smiled.

“It’s great to meet you. I have a feeling we’ll be getting along pretty well.” Taehyung grinned.

You blushed slightly because how could you not when this insanely attractive man was outright flirting with you.

“Your 3 o’ clock is here, get to work.” Jungkook snapped at him.

“Right, I’m on it.” Taehyung cleared his throat.

_____________________________________________________

Taehyung blended in pretty well. He was no doubt good at his job, a lot of customers end up super happy with what they get and so Taehyung was really good for the store. The two of you also got along great, he was like your new best friend. He would come over and talk to you between breaks and he’d send you a lot of memes which kept you happy and entertained throughout the day. One time he brought a pack of cards to work and once you guys were done for the day you played Snap while eating dinner, which was a terrible idea because Taehyung kept hitting your hand real hard and one time he spilled his entire bowl of soup and himself and started to yell because it was hot and man did you laugh until you couldn’t breathe. Obviously, Yoongi and Jungkook were there to witness all this because you guys always spent meal times together. Yoongi would usually ignore the two of you and go on his phone, and you’d call him a grandpa for not wanting to play card games. Jungkook was reserved, also on his phone but he would glance over to the two of you from time to time.

It was another night at the shop and it was nearly opening time so you were at your desk drafting statements and also counting the money from yesterday’s earnings. Jungkook was on his beanbag sipping some banana milk and sketching on his notepad as usual and Taehyung was next to you helping you separate the bills.

“I’m really curious as to how you got a job here.” he asked you.

You scoffed, “Why, can’t a woman get a job in a tattoo parlor? Just because it’s a sausage fest in here, I can’t be a part of it because I don’t have my own sausage?”

Taehyung laughed heartily and you smiled, giggling to yourself.

“You know what I mean.” he urged.

“I just came in one day and asked. At first they said no, and then I made them a deal they couldn’t refuse.”

“Why would they say no? You’re great at what you do.”

You smiled, “Thanks, Tae. But the shop wasn’t like this back then, they couldn’t afford me.”

“Hmm, but you did so well at university. You could have had many other options, why here?”

“Well, I saw two guys desperately trying to make their dreams come true and you know, I just wanted to help them.” you said smiling softly. You remembered all the fond memories you hard building up this place with them. They were priceless.

Jungkook could hear everything the two of you were saying, he felt a pang in his heart when he heard how all you wanted to do was help them, and he had been nothing but mean and rude to you from the very beginning.

“That and, well, I needed to start earning something. My parents have gotten pretty old. Mum is really sick and dad spends all his time taking care of her. Before that, they used to own that bakery across the street.”

“Wait, you mean Rosie’s bakery? Like...the pretty fucking amazing one?”

You laughed, “I guess you can say that.”

“I used to go there when I was a kid, it’s been around for so long. It’s such a shame it got closed down. I’m really sorry about your mother too, by the way,” he said sympathetically.

“No that’s okay. She’s still around, I thank the heavens that I get to see her for just one more day. They wanted me to take over, but I could never do all that by myself.”

“Why not? I’m sure you could.”

You shook your head, “I never want to let them down, you know? That bakery was like their baby, I didn’t want to step in and ruin it. Some things just eventually come to an end.”

“I understand.” he nodded, “But you’re here now though, things worked out, right? Look at how lucky you got, you now have a Taehyung in your life!”

You grabbed a book and smacked him across the shoulder with it and he yelped, but laughed along with you after. The bells chimed and the first customer came in, Taehyung left to work on them so it was just you and Jungkook in the room. As you picked up your pen to work again a voice made you halt.

“I’m sorry.”

You looked up at him in shock and confusion. Why was he talking to you all of a sudden?

“What?” you asked confused.

He sighed and put his sketchbook down and walked over to you. He sat on the chair next to you and all you could do was watch him.

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick to you since day one. There’s really no excuse for that, I’m really sorry.” he said looking at you.

“Jungkook...” you trailed off.

“Yoongi and I worked really hard to get here, like really, really hard. There were days we never got to eat, nor did we have a roof over our heads. Despite all that we always had each other, and we had each other’s backs. When we finally opened our shop, I was beyond excited. Even with that shitty sign outside that we got rid of, this shop was still a great achievement. When you showed up, I just...felt threatened? It was stupid, I don’t know what I was thinking. I just felt like someone might screw this up for us or that all of this might go away and that was so terrifying for me. I realise now that you genuinely wanted to help us even though I was an asshole, and I just owe you the biggest thanks ever y/n because you played a huge part in making my dream come true. Instead of thanking you and showing you my appreciation all I did was yell at you and piss you off and I just, god, I hate myself for it. I’m really sorry. I just want you to know that I appreciate you, and so does Yoongi. We owe it all to you.”

For the past month Jungkook never said more than two words to you, but now he was giving you a whole ass speech? Man, here comes the waterworks.

“Shit, y/n, are you-oh god please don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry,” you cried out. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop, I’ll stop I just,” you inhaled, “I can’t stop.” you sobbed.

Jungkook pulled you to his chest and you immediately wrapped your arms around him. He murmured reassuring words, telling you that it was okay while he rubbed your back softly. You pulled away embarrassed and tried to hide your face as you wiped off tears messily and sniffled. God, you must look so horrible right now.

“Sorry I-” you sniffled, “I’m fine now. I’m fine.” you heaved.

“You sure?” he asked.

You nodded and smiled at him, making him smile back.

“I uh-” you started, “I’m sorry too. I’m sorry for making you feel insecure, and no it’s not stupid, your feelings are absolutely valid, Jungkook. I just had no idea I made you feel that way, it must have been bad for you, I’m so sorry. And I forgive you, thank you for saying all that but, it’s not me who made all this happen. It’s you, and Yoongi. The both of you are so talented, I’ve seen how you work too. Jungkook you’re incredible, okay? Like, yeah I don’t know anything about tattoos but I know a pretty thing when I see it and your work just blows me away and you should be so proud of that. That’s what brought you here, not me.” you said.

Jungkook nodded and looked at you fondly, “Thank you for saying that.”

“And uh...when you walked in that day-”

“It’s fine.” you cut him off feeling embarrassed and not wanting to talk about it.

“No y/n, it didn’t mean anything, okay? I saw how hurt you looked and I felt really bad.”

You shook your head, “Jungkook you have nothing to feel bad about. It’s your job, I was wrong to be upset anyway.”

“You don’t have to be jealous.” he chuckled.

You groaned, “She was blatantly flirting with you!”

“And I ignored her. Plus, I didn’t share my food with her.”

“You didn’t?” you asked hopefully.

“No, I didn’t.” he chuckled, making you grin.

You bit your lip and nodded back at him. “And, you know, what happened that day...”

His eyes widened and he took your hands in his, “I’m really sorry. I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have done that, I made you feel uncomfortable and I still hate myself for doing that to you until this day...” he said apologetically.

“No it’s fine, I shouldn’t have ran off like that, it was so stupid of me.” you shook your head.

“I thought I scared you.” he said with so much guilt in his tone.

“Jungkook,” you whispered. You laced your hands with his firmly, “You didn’t. Not at all, I was just surprised and I didn’t know how to react. I must have hurt you, I’m sorry. I just want you to know that I really like you and...yeah.” you said shyly.

Jungkook had a small smile on his lips, “You do?”

“Mhm.” you said looking away.

That smile turned into a smirk, “So I was right, y/n did have a crush.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “It’s gonna fade if you keep at it.”

“Alright alright, I’ll stop teasing. I like you a lot too, y/n.” he said looking right into your eyes. His confidence was admirable.

“You could have been nicer you know? You wouldn’t stop sending me daggers through your stares and I even got you banana milk so you’d warm up to me but that was just weird, so then I didn’t know what to-mmpmh.”

And there it was again. Those soft lips against yours, his hands cupping your cheeks. Your hands moved to his hair to bring him closer as he pressed his lips against yours, occasionally pulling away only to dive back in again. His hands moved to your waist and pulled you on top of him. You finally felt all that muscle on him through his shirt, he really was as ripped as you imagined him to be. He poked his tongue softly past your lips and you let him in.

“Always...wanna...kiss you.” he said in between kisses.

You sighed and let out small noises of pleasure, grasping on his locks.

“So pretty.” he mumbled as he pulled away and moved to your neck, planting wet kisses there.

You moaned when he bit down on the flesh of your neck, which made him sigh heavily.

“You sound exactly like I pictured you would. So needy.” he growled.

“Jungkook.” you said breathlessly.

“Hmm?” he hummed as he continued to mark you.

“W-we really shouldn’t-ah-be doing this here.” you squeaked.

Just then his lips met your sweet spot and you could help but let that loud moan ripple through you, catching Jungkook by surprise.

“Fuck, you even sound pretty.” He continued to abuse the skin of your neck with his teeth and tongue until he finally pulled away to look at you.

Your face was flushed, eyes hazy and lips swollen. Jungkook tucked your hair behind your ears and rested his forehead on yours. He placed another soft kiss on your lips, making you smile. Your hands remained around his neck and you fidgeted for a bit before asking him.

“Jungkook?”

“Yes, princess?”

“I said that we shouldn’t be doing this here.” you said biting your lip.

He looked taken back at your sudden boldness and smirked at you.

“Are you saying you want me to have you over my chair in my studio?”

“Yes that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

_______________________________________________________

“Yoongi hyung?” Taehyung asked with his lips pressed together.

“Yeah?”

“Are they-”

“Yeah.”

_______________________________________________________

Business was picking up yet again, and to celebrate the anniversary of the shop’s opening, Yoongi decided to throw a small party at his and Jungkook’s shared apartment. Taehyung promised to get the alcohol and dragged Jungkook with him. Yoongi was spending the day cleaning the apartment and grumbling about how Jungkook is gross and never keeps the place clean. Yoongi was also inviting his other friends Seokjin, Namjoon, Jimin and Hoseok. They apparently graduated art school together and were some of his best buds. Jungkook knew them too, and he had introduced you to all of them. You were pretty close to Seokjin since he just has an incredibly friendly nature and he’s always cracking lame jokes which you can’t help but find funny. So it was your job to get the food for the party and Seokjin was told to go with you.

“y/n there’s soju!” he called loudly in the supermarket where literally everyone can hear him.

“I told you, Taehyung’s in charge of the booze, he probably already got some!”

“But he doesn’t know the good kind, like I do! Pleaseee, look there’s like 8 different flavours.”

“Seokjin.” you huffed.

“Okay fine, but if this party’s lame I blame you.”

“Why am I even friends with you, dork.” you grumbled.

Seokjin helped you reach the foods on the higher shelves and you were grateful for that. He also paid, another reason you became extra nice to him. It was already late in the evening and you guys had to get back and get ready for the party. You lugged the huge bags of snacks through the corridors, these guys really did eat a lot. Seokjin rang the bell and after a while Jungkook answered the door.

“You guys eat like pigs.” Seokjin huffed as he carried the huge bags of food.

“Hyung’s the one who goes through all the chips!” Jungkook retorted.

“Do you hear how he speaks to me?” Seokjin complained to Namjoon.

You giggled at them and moved to enter when Jungkook blocked your way.

“Nu-uh.” he said smirking.

“Move your fat ass out of the way, these are heavy.” you huffed.

“Okay, first of all, rude. Second of all, kiss first.” he demanded puckering his lips.

“Gross, who would wanna kiss you?” you said fake disgusted.

“y/n!” he cried like a child.

You laughed and dropped the bags on the floor and stood on your tippy-toes to kiss him. He smiled into the kiss and wrapped an arm around your torso keeping you pressed against him. You pulled away and nuzzled your nose against his.

“Can I come in now?”

He caught your lips with his again and bit on your bottom lip. You moaned softly making him inhale sharply.

“Guys, can you not do it at the damn doorstep?!” you heard Seokjin yell.

Jungkook and you laughed and he moved to carry the bags in being the strong man that he is. Later that night all of you huddled in front of the TV with blankets and more snacks. Most of them were passed out due to the high consumption of alcohol. You and Jungkook were still awake, and he was playing with the hem of your shirt while placing soft kisses on your collarbone. You ran your fingers through his hair and sighed at the feeling of his lips on your skin.

“You smell good.” he mumbled, pressing more kisses on your neck.

You only smiled and let him continue.

“Wonder if you taste good too.” he said casually.

Heat rushed to your cheeks and you smacked his arm softly.

“You would already know that.” you played along.

“Hm, yeah I do.” he smirked making you look away embarrassed.

He turned your head to face him by cupping your cheek.

“y/n” he murmured against your lips.

“Yeah?” you whispered.

“Wanna taste you.” was all he said before his lips touched yours again and your mind went into a frenzy.

I’m just gonna say that the guys were lucky to have been knocked out that night. There were some pretty scandalous things happening in Jungkook’s bedroom.

_______________________________________________________

the end! wow this took me the entire day to write but it was totally worth it. who else is whipped for kook? :”)

also stream dynamite! love u guys <3

343 notes · View notes

ofdragonsdeep · 3 years

Text

26 (Star)

This was written as a fill for the quick-prompt for the week of 13th September on the Book Club discord, which I... cannot link because I am not an ~official author~ because I'm shy.

They are supposed to be 100 words or thereabouts. This... is not.

The eldest of the Durendaire children tires of misery.

(spoilers for early SB, Firmament quests, and minor AST nonsense)

The soft sound of the waves splashing against rock warred with the hustle and bustle of Limsa Lominsa for a place in the ears. Ar’telan, sat on one of the benches in the aetheryte plaza, watched the people come and go, locals and merchants and tourists thronging between docks and markets, watched over by stern yellowjackets keen to keep the peace. When he had first set foot in Limsa Lominsa, however many moons ago that had been, someone had told him that you could tell a native from an outsider by how much the salt spray settled into the crags in their face, consonants discarded from the speech like so much unnecessary ornamentation.

The Echo had taught him that people would hear what he wanted them to hear, when it wanted to work, but he had never been able to sound like a local. Even Reyner, the commander of the Yellowjackets and perpetual ‘proper’ speaker, still sounded more at ease in Limsa than Ar’telan did. Still, he was comforted by the familiar surroundings, sun reflected off white-bleached walls, the comforting thrum of life.

With a thunk of shoes on stone, Ar’telan hopped from the bench and began his walk around the city. He was here for no reason - not one that the fate of the world dictated, at any rate. It was nice, in the space between disasters, to find himself in familiar places without a pressing cause.

The walk took him to the upper decks, past the drunks and the hopeful street workers and the festive balloons in the Aftcastle. Melkoko waved to him from the door of the Missing Member, and he offered her a nod of greeting in return, not quite brave enough to actually go into the building and risk Rhoswen’s wrath for simply existing in a space adjacent to her. It was a little quieter in the Hyaline, the vendor at the counter ceasing her attempts to sell him ‘spice’ as soon as she recognised who he was.

“Fair weather, Warrior o’ Light! You got business with the Cap’n?” Heddyn asked, Ar’telan considering the stairs he guarded and the question he asked, weighing them in his mind.

“If he is free to speak, it would be nice,” he said, and Heddyn gave him a nod and a playful salute, vanishing up the stairs to check with his Captain.

A flurry of movement escorted Ar’telan up the stairs and into the back room of the Hyaline, an open deck which looked out over the flagship of the Kraken’s Arm and the many barges that surrounded it. Captain Carvallain had any number of ventures to his name these days, from exotic ‘spice’ (Ar’telan was still uncertain what, exactly, the word substituted for) to pleasure barges to trade in mundane goods from the far-flung port of Kugane. It was only the lucrative nature of that final venture that prevented him from attempting to skin Tataru alive whenever the Scions were mentioned in conversation, or so Ar’telan presumed.

“Ar’telan. Strange to see you here,” he greeted, a nod of his head the only acknowledgement of the miqo’te’s presence. “I do hope you have not brought any irksome companions with you this time.”

“Just me,” Ar’telan confirmed, noting the way that Carvallain relaxed, if only a little. Carvallain sounded like a Limsan local, even though he wasn’t, the Ishgardian lilt to his accent universally ignored by any who might think to note it. It had been many moons ago that Ar’telan had first taken notice - walking the snow-heavy road to Gorgagne Mills, the quiet farmstead bearing the same name that Carvallain had taken for a surname. He had dwelled upon it when he had spoken with Jannequinard, at the Athenaeum Astrologicum in Ishgard proper, and helped him and his Sharlayan friend with their struggles to see astromancy of the Sharlayan bent recognised within the city. It had come as no great surprise when Tataru and Alphinaud had used the ‘subtle’ arts of manipulation to use the entirely unconnected story of Count de Durendaire’s unfortunate eldest son, lost at sea, to convince Carvallain to ferry them to Kugane.

And now here they were.

“Good. The trade that your voyage to Kugane started has been good for our coffers, but I would rather that meddlesome little woman didn’t learn that I was grateful,” he said, examining his nails as he said it, as though it were nothing. “The rumour mill has told me some very interesting things about how you’ve been spending your time. Are many true?” Ar’telan grimaced.

“I’m not sure I could name half of them,” he replied. “I have mostly been in Ishgard, when not doing the tasks which make the news.” The cloud passed over Carvallain’s face for a moment, but it cleared before it could take a greater hold.

“Yes. One of the Houses is most fond of you, aren’t they?” he said, voice light. Ar’telan managed a nervous laugh.

“Something like that. But I know them all quite well, now,” he said, hopping up onto the wall and sitting on it, tail swishing in the breeze from the ocean at his back. “The old Count de Dzemael has been building structures for dravanians in the Churning Mists. I’ve been helping Francel with revitalising the Firmament. There was a call for aid from outside sources for that.” Carvallain nodded, his expression guarded now.

“We sold a few things to some interested parties, but that has been the extent of our involvement in the matter,” he replied. “I will confess, it is odd to hear Ishgard spoken of… positively. I cannot imagine the stubborn rocks in the nobility are overly fond of it.”

“Lord Speaker Aymeric has been doing good work,” Ar’telan said. “And you might be surprised. Count Charlemend has been working as a volunteer in a hospital for the poor.” Carvallain snorted at that, then paused, a frown on his face.

“...You are serious,” he realised. Ar’telan nodded, not elaborating for fear that he would be tarred with the same brush as Tataru, even though his motives were perhaps in the same venn diagram. “Unbelievable. The times are truly changing, I suppose.” He gave Ar’telan a searching look, his stance stiff and uncertain, an unusual look for the leader of pirates. “Bah, I tire of this pointless dance. Speak plain. Did you come here to bully me like your vicious little secretary?”

“Not intentionally,” Ar’telan replied, which was true, but not particularly endearing. “I just thought you might like to know. What you do with the knowledge is not my business.” Carvallain sighed.

“I suppose I am curious as to the lead-in,” he allowed. “Very well. Tell me what you know.”

---

It was not an easy conversation. For all that Ar’telan was aiding Charlemend in his sincere desire to leave the old ways of life, the pain that he had inflicted - on purpose or not - was clear to see. Carvallain’s brow still darkened at the sound of his name, and Ar’telan thought of Ronantain, desperate to mold himself into the image of the good noble that had been taught to him for all too long in his short life. He thought of Jannequinard, so brilliant and clever, throwing himself into anything he could enjoy that was just disrespectful enough to leave his betters despairing, but not enough to have him thrown from the parapets and disowned.

He thought of the knight, lost to grief after failing his charge, who had died in the mills that gave Carvallain his name.

But the conversation had left him with something most unexpected: an elegantly penned note, the calling card of the Kraken’s Arms, an offer in dispassionate ink on the back of it.

“You may read it, if you wish,” Carvallain had said. “I don’t imagine that much goes unseen by your eyes, these days.”

Ar’telan had put it in his pocket, and kept his gaze averted.

---

The cold air of Ishgard hit like a wall as Ar’telan teleported into Foundation, and he shook his head and shivered in its suddenness. He had long since lost his need for the warmth of his home in Meracydia, but La Noscea was far warmer than Ishgard, and it hit like a shock. He took his gloves from his pockets, pulled them on, and rubbed his hands together as he walked. The aetheryte shard network would have been faster, but for all its inhospitality, Ar’telan still longed to stretch the minutes he spent in Ishgard to bells.

The Athenaeum Astrologicum was busier now than it had been even at the height of the war, students of all stripes thronging in and around its walls. A few of them recognised him, for his work with the erstwhile management in the past, but without a globe at hand most of the students paid him little heed. Ar’telan found that suited him just fine.

Jannequinard was at the desk when he walked in, eyes buried in the pages of a book. He glanced up, looked back down when he noted that Ar’telan was not a nubile young woman ready to be talked into compromising positions by a dashing young fox of a nobleman, then looked back up again when who he actually was registered with his brain.

“This is a surprise,” he remarked, and Ar’telan grimaced.

“Anyone would think I never visited,” he said, and Jannequinard sighed. A card from the sleeve at his hip was wedged into his book, in a move that would have made Leveva bonk him over the head with the nearest sufficiently weighty implement, and he leaned forwards, head rested on his hands.

“You either have terrible news, or interesting news. If it is the former, I will have to ask that you leave. I have a date this evening.”

“You do?” Ar’telan asked, surprised, and Jannequinard sagged in defeat.

“Yes, yes, very funny. An actual date, with an actual, living woman, before you get as sarcastic as those two.” He shot a venomous look at the two astrologians who served as the Athenaeum’s formal welcoming committee, who did not even seem to notice it. Ar’telan assumed they got it a lot. “So nobody is dying? There has been no attack by mysterious assailants on important personages, abducted nobles, crying orphans, anything of the sort?”

“Not that I am aware of,” Ar’telan replied. “I could ask at Rolanberry Fields if you want a crying orphan, though.”

“The Fury blessed you with a streak of humour since we last spoke, I see,” Jannequinard said, arching a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “Then why have you come?” Ar’telan paused, not having actually considered how best to approach the situation. Jannequinard did not appear to be a subtle man, but he could be, when the situation called for it. Or when he thought the situation called for it, at any rate.

“I have something for you,” Ar’telan said eventually, reaching into his pocket and taking out the missive, putting it down on the desk between them before continuing. “From one of the Captains in Limsa Lominsa. An offer of trade, I think.”

“You think?” Jannequinard repeated, the suspicion plain on his face. “I will assume that you have misread the name, since you speed through all other matters, but I am not above a little spying, so I shall take this regardless.” He picked it up, looked at the sigil on the front with a mixture of concern and disdain, and flipped it over. Muttered fragments of words gave Ar’telan the very short version of the offer Carvallain had made, but it was when Jannequinard made it to the signatory that he stopped.

“Who gave this to you?” he asked, his cordial tone dropping several notches. Ar’telan felt like he might shiver despite the warmth of the Athenaeum’s fires.

“Captain Carvallain of the Kraken’s Arms,” he replied. Jannequinard shot his gaze around the room in a panic, before remembering that it was impossible to overhear the words of someone who was not actually speaking them.

“...Come with me a moment, will you?” he asked, getting to his feet. That was enough to draw the concern of the other astrologians in the room, but he waved them off irritably and escorted Ar’telan into the back of the Athenaeum.

---

The private study rooms were conservatively furnished, a small number of wooden chairs and great tables capable of holding the full breadth of an unfurled star map, and very little else. Jannequinard closed the door on the one he had appropriated, then almost forcibly sat Ar’telan in the nearest chair, despite his half-formed noises of protest.

“I know that a lot of people in this city think you are a fool with more goodwill than sense, but contrary to popular opinion, I am not stupid. You are aware of what happened to my… my brother, yes?” Ar’telan noted the way his voice caught at the admittance. It was not sorrow - Jannequinard had likely been barely more than a boy when it happened, though Ar’telan was not entirely sure how old he or Carvallain were. He knew Jannequinard chafed at the prospect of inheritance, to the degree that he had been a ‘maybe’ in the aftermath. Knew that Charlemend would not have taken his eldest’s loss well. Knew that he was opening old wounds. Maybe that had been Carvallain’s aim, after all, and he just the errand boy for it. But he had said that it was Carvallain’s knowledge to do with as he wished, he supposed.

“Yes. He was lost at sea. Pirates, they thought,” he replied. “It is why you did not wish to follow Leveva and I to Limsa Lominsa, is it not?” Jannequinard wrinkled his nose, annoyed that Ar’telan was both bringing up his past failings, and also seeing through his ruse.

“Perhaps. That is neither here nor there,” he dismissed with a sharp wave of his hand. “What matters is that you have brought me a missive from pirates, signed in the name of my dead brother, and you expect me to believe this is an accident.”

“I never said it was an accident,” Ar’telan replied, which caught Jannequinard off-guard.

“No, I suppose you did not,” he allowed, then sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I am going to have to cancel my date, aren’t I?”

“I do not think the Count will mind if you leave it til the morning. He is busy with his work, these days,” Ar’telan offered, attempting to soften the blow. Jannequinard looked back down at the note.

“Did he give this to you himself?” he asked. Ar’telan nodded his head. “Did he- is he- Is it really him?” he managed, voice quiet. Ar’telan nodded a second time. Jannequinard swallowed, looking down and up again, a look of the lost on his face. “How long have you known?”

“I have suspected since I first met you,” he replied. “I have known for certain since just before the War of Liberation in Ala Mhigo.” Jannequinard attempted to process this, and utterly failed to do so.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

“Because it wasn’t my choice to make,” Ar’telan said. Jannequinard let out a long, defeated sigh.

“Yes. Yes, I suppose that makes sense,” he agreed. “If I had managed to escape our father I would not want some random adventurer dragging me back under his heel. Damn all of this.” He put the card into the space on his sleeve where the Bole-shaped bookmark had previously sat, scowling down at it as though it were razor-edged. “Very well. I shall inform the Count.”

“You don’t have to,” Ar’telan said, and Jannequinard stopped short, as though he had not even considered that option. Ar’telan didn’t imagine there was anything that Jannequinard did that did not find its way back to the Count, one way or another, but he had made a deliberate choice to give this letter to Jannequinard first.

“I… No, I shall tell him,” he decided eventually. “Carvallain de Durendaire died long ago, but by the Fury’s grace, if we can make peace with the Dravanians then perhaps what is left of my family can make peace with themselves.” He got to his feet, a scowl on his face. “I would have thought that something of this magnitude just might be predicted by astromancy, but alas.”

“Maybe it would have if you paid attention to Leveva’s lessons instead of the bosom of the nearest passing noblewoman,” Ar’telan offered, and Jannequinard showed his appreciation by accidentally stepping on his foot.

---

Jannequinard had insisted on Ar’telan accompanying him on his ‘dire quest’, a task to which the miqo’te had acquiesced without argument. Though Ar’telan was used to speaking with the Count in the Firmament, given the amount of time the both of them spent there, the evening meant that Jannequinard instead returned to the family manor with his sidekick in tow, a move which gathered quite a number of concerned looks from the manor’s guard. Ar’telan weighed the pros and cons of reassuring them that he was not Jannequinard’s unfortunate cancelled date, and decided against it.

Durendaire manor was a house of wealth, but it did not feel homely to Ar’telan the way that Fortemps manor did. Shields bearing the family crest adorned the walls, pictures of Counts past and their families between them. Fresh arrangements of flowers sat on marble pedestals, a luxurious red rug covering the polished blackstone floor, and the wallpaper looked to be made from astral silk or some other luxurious cloth. Ar’telan found it to be overwhelming.

A manservant knocked on the office door for them, and Charlemend looked between the two of them in concern that quickly changed to alarm as they entered.

“What has burned down?” he asked as the door closed, and Jannequinard made a frustrated noise.

“I can bring you good news,” he protested, gesturing to Ar’telan to take one of the chairs. With an apologetic look to the Count, Ar’telan shuffled into one, noting the tension between father and son with an increasing nervousness. “In fact, I am bringing good news. Ar’telan here has been kind enough to secure us a trade agreement with one of the prominent powers in Limsa Lominsa.” The distaste in his face was familiar to Ar’telan, from when they had been there on Ishgard’s behalf, with Francel in tow.

“We already have an agreement with those… with their prominent traders,” Charlemend said, the carefully-chosen words not masking his unhappiness. “Not that I expect you to know that, but it was Ar’telan who secured it.” Jannequinard looked over at Ar’telan, who offered an innocent shrug.

“There is more than one pirate in Limsa Lominsa,” he said. Charlemend made a distinctly unhappy noise.

“Yes, I am well aware. If it is worth disturbing me at this hour, and by the both of you, no less, I shall take a look at it,” he said. Jannequinard took the card from his sleeve, and passed it to his father.

“I would advise that you sit, father,” he said, stepping back as the Count took it. The suspicion was plain in Charlemend’s eyes, but he tempered it. Ar’telan was not sure if it was for his benefit, or Jannequinard’s.

“These are the same brigands we dealt with during Lord Francel’s attempts at trade outreach,” he murmured, seeing the sigil upon the front. “Their captain, ah- Gerald, was that his name? Was eventually willing to see reason.”

“Gerald is the First Mate,” Ar’telan said, glancing at Jannequinard as he said it. “But yes. I was surprised as well.” Charlemend offered a huff of annoyance, then turned over the card.

It was a harrowing transformation to witness. Irritance became disbelief, which became anger. He looked up at the two of them, Jannequinard with an uncharacteristically stony face and Ar’telan the picture of neutrality, and anger morphed to a deep and painful sadness without a single word. The card fell from his hands to hit the papers at his desk, his hands shaking.

“How long have you known?” he asked, his eyes on Ar’telan now.

“Longer than I have known you,” he replied. Charlemend’s hand curled into a fist, and he thumped the desk in despair. Jannequinard moved away from him at the sound of it - not in fear, but to head off the concerned manservant who threatened to manifest at the unorthodox summons.

“This is my fault,” Charlemend said, words uttered through gritted teeth to scattered papers rather than his visitors. “All my life I strived for the ideal that my father taught me. Accepted it - what else could I do? And in my sons, in my nephew, I passed down that same poison. Duty above all.”

“Father…” Jannequinard began, surprise clear on his features. It was not an unusual sight, not on Jannequinard, but the circumstance was strange.

“I was not ten yalms from him in Limsa Lominsa. They said he had listened in as we spoke,” Charlemend said, his voice barely a whisper. “Tell me - was it him? Was it Carvallain you spoke with?” Carefully, Ar’telan inclined his head.

“They could not believe it when he agreed to the contract,” he said. “But he had hope in Ishgard for change. In you. Enough to take a chance, but not enough to risk everything he had.” Charlemend ran his fingers across the card.

“What changed?” he asked.

“I told him of the Firmament,” Ar’telan replied. “Of your work at Saint Vandreau’s Grace.” He shook his head then, shuffling over to the side on instinct as Janneqinard returned to the second chair that sat opposite the desk. “Everything that happened with Maelie and Ronantain. If he had not heard you in Limsa the last time I do not think he would have believed me.” Charlemend put his head in his hands, and were it not for a stamina tempered by years as Count in the hostile environment of Ishgard, Ar’telan thought he might have cried.

“He will never come home, will he?” the Count said, his voice quiet and holding the weight of his years.

“No,” Ar’telan agreed. “Ishgard is not his home. It has not been for many years.” The Count let out a long breath, raising his head and running his hands down his face.

“Yes. You are right,” he said. “I will not - I cannot squander this opportunity. If he did not believe me capable of respecting his boundaries then he would never have sent this missive.” He nodded, apparently at peace with his decision. “Very well. The message speaks of a meeting, and though it does not specify a venue, I will not force him to even consider returning to Ishgard. Might I trouble you for an escort to La Noscea, Master Qin?” Ar’telan nodded, a smile on his face.

“Of course. Name the day.”

—

The sharp tang of salt in the airship’s propellors heralded their arrival to Limsa Lominsa proper. Ar’telan, possessed of far more of a head for heights than either of the Durendaires he accompanied, had watched the sea appear on the horizon over the side of the airship, Charlemend going more than a little green when he watched the miqo’te balance against the edge without so much as a rope around his waist. The Admiralty’s ships wound in and out of the harbour, the size of chocobo carts from their height, and in each separate berth sat the flagships of the three remaining bastions of pirate tradition, grand and imposing against the bleached white walls.

Both Charlemend and Jannequinard - the latter had not needed to come, but had insisted, a rare turn of events - seemed happy to get their feet upon solid ground again, even if Jannequinard eyed the creaking lift that took them down into the Drowning Wench with a dubious eye. More than a few of the Wench’s patrons eyed the Ishgardians as they passed, as even Charlemend’s attempts to be inconspicuous still screamed of his wealth, but after Baderon raised a hand and yelled a greeting to Ar’telan, they averted their gazes. Even V’kebbe, leaning against the wall and eating one of the Bismarck’s favourite sandwiches, only gave him a respectful nod of acknowledgement as they passed.

—

Every single member of the Kraken’s Arms in the Hyaline went tense as they entered. Ar’telan glanced back at the Durendaires, but even Jannequinard had picked up on the steely atmosphere enough to stop dead in his tracks.

“I see we’re popular here,” he remarked. Ar’telan sighed.

“I’ll talk to him. Wait here. Try not to get robbed,” he said. Charlemend looked offended, but Jannequinard only offered his empty pockets in demonstration of his intent.

There was a look of distaste on Carvallain’s face when Ar’telan crested the stairs, not dissimilar to the one that his father wore when discussing the topic of pirates. He, too, was as tense as his crew - not something that Ar’telan was used to seeing, not even when he had approached him to deal with the crew on Charlemend’s behalf before. His eyes, quick and clever, appraised Ar’telan as he approached, then went back to staring at elegantly manicured nails.

“The crew have told me. I suppose it is too late to change my mind,” he remarked. Ar’telan shook his head.

“He would leave if I asked,” he disagreed. Carvallain scoffed, but there was no force behind it.

“I suppose if I did not believe you I would not have extended the invitation to begin with,” he said. “Very well. Gerald, I believe the Misery could do with an inspection before we next depart.” Gerald offered a smart salute, understanding the assignment well enough to vanish down the stairs and pull the entire crew along in his undertow. “Fetch him. I will be expecting you to evict him if this turns sour, since this is your fault,” Carvallain said, his voice terse. Ar’telan did not begrudge him the order, in the circumstances.

“I will do my best,” he said, and went back down the stairs.

—

Charlemend and Jannequinard had made note of the piratical exodus, but neither had moved from where Ar’telan had left them - whether because they did not dare or out of respect, Ar’telan could not have rightly said. He could see the nervous vein ticking in Jannequinard’s neck, Charlemend’s uncomfortable posture, the way there was less distance between them than he had ever seen in Ishgard, and felt a little guilty.

“Follow me,” he said, and they both snapped to attention, Jannequinard taking a notable side step.

“I was concerned this had become a ruse to set pirates upon my person,” he said, but though Charlemend scowled at the idea, he remained unusually quiet.

—

The walk up the stairs felt like a funeral procession. Ar’telan tried not to think about how Charlemend had already buried his son, mourned his loss, and uprooted the corpse for this little dance. On the balcony, Carvallain stood with his arms folded, his trusty axe still notably at his back. At the top of the stairs, Charlemend stopped dead.

“...Carvallain,” he said, his voice quiet. There was no question in it, only the heavy weight of proof, the understanding of what it all meant - all the years, all the measures Carvallain had taken, all the times they had come so close and yet remained apart.

“If you wish for an embrace, you will not get one,” Carvallain said, but there was less of his authoritative bark than Ar’telan was used to hearing, less of his smooth command of the situation.

“Well, if I read the signs correctly, you offer them for a very reasonable price down in the docks,” Jannequinard said, and Carvallain laughed despite himself.

“I would charge a little more for one from me,” he replied. “...It has been a long time, father. Ar’telan here informs me that you heal the sick and bring orphans presents, and so forth. When precisely did the voidsent replace you?” Charlemend shook his head.

“I will not trade barbs with you, Carvallain,” he said, his once-proud posture sagging with the weight of years. “For so many years I hoped… After we buried your memory, I told myself it was cruelty to imagine. Yet here you are, a man grown and a leader both.” He did not attempt to cross the distance between them, but he did offer an inclination of his head. “You have flourished beyond any heights which Ishgard could have offered to you. I am proud of you.” Carvallain started at the words, a little of the stony facade dropping.

“I… I did not expect to hear as much from you,” he confessed. “In my earlier years, it brought me a kind of spiteful joy. Leader of a den of sin and iniquity.” He gave Jannequinard a searching look. “For all that some among our number might enjoy such things, that you can look upon all I have built and see it as the accomplishment that it is…” He sighed, shaking his head in despair at himself. “I do not regret my decision, though I did not precisely choose to be on a vessel abducted by pirates. But for the sorrow that I have caused you… I am sorry.” Charlemend took a steadying breath.

“It means the world to me that you trusted in me enough to reach out,” he said. “Thank you.” Ar’telan looked between the two of them, then to Jannequinard. The younger Durendaire still seemed ill-at-ease, but he gave Ar’telan a nod of acknowledgement, stepping to the side to let him retreat to the stairs.

From here, they could mend their own bridges.

#please don't @ me about whether Janne is a son or a nephew #I only realised my headcanon was a HEADcanon not actual canon while I was writing this #ffxivwrite2021 #gods give me strength #Carvallain de Gorgagne #Charlemend de Durendaire #Jannequinard de Durendaire #Warrior of Light (solo story)

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