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eureka-its-zico · 4 years

Text

Irrevocably Yours

Request: hey! can i request a scenario of jungkook being a rich kid who has ome of his legs is leg failure , basically can't walk without a cane , And he falls in love with a normal girl , and they end up running away , happy ending plz , also if u can , LIT IT Up with smut ' thank u ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

A/N: So. This request was sent to me a long ass time ago. I mean a LONG time ago, and I spent so much time working on it...it became too long. So I broke it up in half. Just to see if anyone actually becomes interested in how this ends. Just to see if anyone still reads anything I write. So if you end up enjoying this, please let me know and I’ll post the last of this. I have so many things buried inside my google docs that need to be set free from hibernation.

Also, I’m sorry if this isn’t any good. I’ve rewritten this a thousand times trying to fix it, and I’ve done all I can for now. I hope someone out there enjoyed this craziness. And to the original person who asked for this, if you ever see this, I’m sorry it took so long. P.s. I also took creative liberties and changed it up a little. Much love, Jenn

Jungkook x Reader

Word count: 13,756 (yeah I know, it was longer before I halved it. Sorry!)

Genre: fluffy/Smutty(later)/First Love drama sorts mess

A part of you would always remember the first day you’d met Jeon Jungkook. His presence standing in the doorway to the classroom held every single one of your classmate's attention along with yours. Jungkook silently demanded to be noticed, even though in a way he wanted no one to notice him at all. The classroom felt louder than usual, or maybe that was just how you recalled it. Maybe it's what caused the ringing in your ears when the room was swallowed up in silence. The sound of his cane hitting the stained linoleum; ticking like a time bomb with every step.

At first you couldn't see why he necessarily needed it. Jungkook was a master of hiding things. Even pain. It wasn’t until he’d reached the teachers desk, his hip moving to rest against it to ease the extra strain off his good leg, that the stories of his accident became true. Not one of you were willing to look too long at the challenge in his face. Defiance turning his soft features bitter as he glanced out across the room. Jungkook wanted to appear strong; to dare anyone to mutter even a word that he wasn’t. That he wasn’t the same person he was before the accident.

He must have been able to fool your home room teacher into forgetting. His eagerness to introduce Jungkook only caused him to accidentally come too close to his legs in passing. The teachers’ waist moved and harmlessly bump against Jungkook’s bad leg. A small movement that was enough to change Jungkook’s entire demeanor for just a second.

The whole room collectively took a breath; waiting for him to scream out in pain. To turn savage and yell or curse at the stupidity of the teacher. Jungkook did none of it. He continued to look out into the room with his chin held high.

You could see, however, through the crinkle by his eyes and how heavily he now leaned on his cane that it’s caused him a great deal of pain. A brief moment in showing what he tried to hide and if you weren’t staring so hard at him, you were sure you would’ve missed it.

An infamous legend among other schools as his face showed up on Sports articles that featured proud features of parents beaming excitedly at cameras. Taekwondo and track metal’s around his neck by the dozens. Grades to match the intensity of his athletic drive with a rumor that if he tried something for the first time, Jungkook would still be phenomenal at whatever it was.

Even without ever actually meeting him - everyone in that classroom knew who he was. Jeon Jungkook was a hard man not to hear about.

In the beginning of the year there’d been a different headline for him, however. He’d been the passenger in a friend's car that was struck by a drunk driver. The ferocity of the impact leaving the car looking like a bow. Jungkook lost a friend that night, and part of the mobility in his left leg. The driver himself died instantly and you weren't sure if that was justice enough for the two boys who’d lost so much in a matter of three seconds.

And with so much, yet so little known about him you found yourself unable to join the others in measuring up the boy in front of you.

Jungkook was taller than you thought he would be, or maybe you’d silently been hoping the universe wouldn’t be so cruel to give someone talent and every single attractive feature known to man. He’d been played up like he was a god among the rest of you feeble mortals. You figure’d girls were overacting, I mean it happens. Imagining after listening to all their swooning, you’d somehow shockingly find out he was nothing more than your average - ordinary - boy.

Jungkook was anything but ordinary.

His lean frame still retained years of training that wasn't so easily hidden, even under the layers of the school uniform. You could see the care he still placed on his outward appearance. The rising star who was still handsome, even underneath all his brooding. His school uniform strained against tight muscles in his arms and, worse, was his legs. Your cheeks heating into an embarrassed blush as his eyes landed on what seemed like your desk. It was silly to think he’d caught you gawking. Everyone was gawking at him, but even a millisecond of his gaze made your cheeks light up with embarrassment at the idea of being caught.

There was gossip of him not wanting to go back to his old school; his old life. You didn't really blame him. Why be stuck in a place where there were millions of memories of a time you had with a close friend? Of having the ability to walk down the halls without everyone looking at you like you were damaged goods.

“Everyone pay attention!” Mr. Choi shouted.

It all seemed unnecessary. Your attention was already on him whether he wanted it or not.

“I’d like to welcome our transfer student, Jeon Jungkook. I expect you all to be on your best behavior.”

“I don't need you to defend me,” he snapped.

He started moving his way down the aisle towards the only empty seat in the room: the one next to you.

You quickly turned away from him and started cleaning up your space. Jungkook got to the desk faster than you thought and dropped his backpack down on top of the desk. His long body slumped down into the seat, placing his cane next to the window seal.

“We’re going to continue with our previous lecture from yesterday. You can share with Y/N until you get your own books.”

You flipped to chapter eighteen with your many notes scattered inside. Your eyes giving him a sidelong glance before sliding the book neatly between the desks. Jungkook didn't bother to look at the pages: his gaze was locked elsewhere. Somewhere outside the window with the freedom far beyond the gates of the school.

The enter class you’d spun a hundred different sentences in your mind. Each one playing out in your head as pure idiotic or unnecessary. You just couldn’t shake the feeling that it felt wrong letting him sit there like no one cares. To be a part of the prying gazes of the class; to know his name and him not knowing yours in return. You weren't sure why you gave a shit so much, anyways, but you did.

At the sound of the bell he was the first one to hop back onto his feet. His hand instinctively taking hold of the cane to keep him propped up as he moved to situate his backpack over his shoulders. You’d followed close behind him and gathered up your things.

You didn't see him again until fifth period. His brooding presence in the back of the class hung like a dark cloud you couldn't shake. You knew you weren't necessarily the most cheerful person in the room, but even Jungkook’s sour puss attitude was making you want to throw glitter at him.

He didn't acknowledge you when you came to your usual seat at the window, and it didn't bother you. No one usually acknowledged you anyways. What did bother you was that he was sitting in your window seat. Statistics was by far your least favorite subject this year, and the one thing that kept you sane was that window seat.

“That's my spot.”

Your voice didn't hold any hint of malice. It was just definitive: you wanted your seat. Jungkook didn't look at you straight away. His eyes still daydreaming through the window and the world beyond. When he did finally look at you, you were sure the annoyance in his face was meant to send you packing. Too bad for him you’d seen worse.

“Is that look supposed to scare me? It doesn't change the fact you're in my spot.”

“I don't see your name on it.”

Your laughter turned to a scoff; cut short by your disbelief.

“What are we in middle school? If you want to get technical, it was assigned by the teacher aka my name is theoretically on that seat. So -”

You acted like he was a pet you could shoo off your bed. The hand motion earning you his brow to raise in return.

“You’d really make a cripple get up?”

“Is that what we’re calling you? A cripple? Because it looks to me like you’re still capable of doing things, oh say, a paraplegic can't.”

The anger rolled through him suddenly like storm clouds. All the possibilities of playful mischief disappeared as he regarded you with so much hate, it was as if he’d struck you.

“Oh, really? I didn't realize that they were giving away M.D titles in high schools now.”

Your mouth opened to - to what? Apologize? The sensitive part of you told you that you should. His accident hadn't been a full year yet, and here you were badgering him. Yet, you knew if you continuously babied him like everyone else it was only going to do more harm than good. Your next choice of words were cut short when your teacher walked in and asked why you were still standing.

“He’s in my spot.”

God, now who sounded like they were in middle school? Your teacher seemed to draw a blank. His gaze moving from you to Jungkook then back to you.

“Just sit down, Y/N.”

You did so with a huff. Your arms pulling your backpack you’d sat down on the desk closer to you like a pillow. Just so you could rest your chin on top of it and tried to ignore the smirk that was now on Jungkook’s face.

After you’d gone to your next class you couldn't stop thinking about your exchange. It turned your mood sour the rest of the day, and you couldn't understand why. A part of you wondering if it was because of your choice of words or the defeat that shown all too bright in his doe eyes.

The end of the day couldn't have come fast enough. You just wanted to get home and out of your uniform and maybe get a chance to go take some photos before your parents got home. You were too preoccupied with thoughts of where you wanted to go, and what coffee shop you wanted to stop at, when you collided into the back of someone else. A loud curse followed suit of the sound of a cane dropping on pavement making your eyes shut tight and your throat constrict around a groan.

“Jesus, can't you watch where you’re goi- oh, it's you. Enjoy attacking cripples, do we?”

You opened your eyes to see a less than amused smile on his face. He acted more like a judge at your hearing and whatever sentencing he was giving out, it wasn’t in your favor.

“I’m sorry I wasn't paying attention.”

You moved to pick up his cane for him when his hand angrily swatted yours away making you jump back a step.

“I don't need your charity. I can do it myself!”

“No one said you couldn’t! I was only trying to be nice.”

“Yeah, well, go and be nice somewhere else.”

He situated his weight on his good leg and bent at the knee low enough for his hand to reach out and grab his second form of support. The movement so graceful that it left you stunned, but not as much as his words did.

“You know, just because something bad happened to you, it doesn't give you the right to be an asshole. You aren't the only person to lose someone or something important. Get over yourself.”

With your hands latched underneath the straps of your backpack you stomped around him. Not caring that you left him standing stone still. His mouth slightly agape as he watched you take your exit.

During your walk home, somehow, Jungkook plagued your thoughts. Your mind unable to comprehend why you were still thinking about him. It was the first time you’d met, and yet, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. If you were being honest with yourself you knew from replaying the last thing you said to him.The look on his face saying plainly that you were an asshole.

Everyone’s pain mattered. Grief and loss wasn’t measured by anyone else’s pain but the person who experienced it, and to diminish it in any way was unfair. Regret was building inside your chest and it was all you could do to keep your feet from sprinting back in his direction.

When you got home you went directly to your room, throwing your bag on the bed, and sulked to your desk. You had more pressing matters to attend to than a boys’ possible hurt feelings. No matter how many times you tried, however, you weren’t able to write out theories on government history or explain anatomical questions.

The only thing your brain appeared to focus on was how to apologize.

You thought about Jungkook while you showered and brushed your teeth. You thought of him when you laid in bed and struggled to find a way to sleep. Your mind playing out the million different possibilities of how your apology would be taken from him. You didn't necessarily understand what it felt like to have your dreams stolen from you. To be forced to cope with a new life you hadn’t asked for and the emptiness of losing someone you loved all in one go.

If the tables were turned and it was you, wouldn’t you feel equally as bitter?

The following morning in between toaster cooked waffles and fixing your uniform in the mirror, you’d resigned to apologizing to him. No matter how much thinking of it made your teeth grind and a growl rise in your chest at the thought. You imagined him sneering and replying with smart remarks and it caused your mind to waver, but you were better than the pettiness swelling in your chest. You were okay with knowing his prickled exterior came from something you couldn't ever understand.

You made sure all the time you had while you walked to school was used up by mumbling the speech you’d made up the night before. At crosswalks practicing the best stance that didn't appear threatening, was friendly, but wouldn't be misconstrued as flirting.

That was by far the last thing you wanted to happen in his eyes. Sure, Jungkook was undeniably attractive...as much as you would've loved to laugh sarcastically in his perfectly sculpted face that his obviously very masculine features did nothing to make you weak in the knees. That you hadn’t noticed when his elbows, still clad in his jacket, moved to rest on the desk it’d caused his biceps and shoulders to equally fight for whatever was left of the fabric. Or that small scar on his cheek caught your attention when he became annoyed; his tongue poking out at the side of his jaw.

No, you hadn't been paying an embarrassing amount of attention to him at all (or at the ridiculous outline of his thigh muscles in his school uniform) with every step he took.

So, since you hadn't personally taken notice of any of physically appealing traits, why would you flirt? You were well aware of the vast difference of not only your social scale, but also of your class ranking, and looks overall. You were lightyears away from ever being able to consider being more than a female acquaintance he happened to get stuck next to at school. He wasn't the first boy who was out of your league, and Jungkook wouldn't be the last. Why it bothered you so much was a child's thought you refused to entertain.

When you finally got to school you hurried up the steps and briskly made your way down the hall. Not stopping even after Jenny cursed after you for nudging her as you went by. As soon as you swung open the door for homeroom, your eyes landed on Jungkook’s position. His cane leaning against the desk, hands tucked inside the pockets of his uniform slacks as he leaned back against the chair.

His gaze was focused somewhere outside the window, completely blank and motionless, and you wondered if he could've been having a thought at all. He was close to being marked as unreal in your book when he blinked and turned his gaze towards you.

You hadn't realized you’d been staring until that moment. Your gaze dropping to the worn linoleum as you briskly made your way down to your desk. A mumbled, “Good morning,” falling like a bad habit from your lips while you came around the side to slid into the desk chair. Nervous hands clutching tightly to your bag as you stared straight ahead, unwilling to glance in his direction.

Somewhere between cursing your awkwardness and staring out the window like an escape hatch your teacher started the lecture. None of it to which you were paying attention too, which was probably why you heard him call your name. You jerked in your seat as he yelled it a second time. Your eyes no doubt wide from giggles that sounded around the room.

“Y/N, since you're listening, you can go ahead and answer number forty-seven in the workbook.”

Panic sent your eyes wide as you stared back at his expectant face: waiting for you to fail. You hadn't even taken your book out since you’d sat down, finally moving to do so, when you felt a light tap against your bag. It was enough to jerk your gaze away from the teacher and down to a completed book of all the problems done by Jungkook.

He cleared his throat and tucked his hands back inside the pockets of his trousers easily not understanding the severity of how his actions had left you wide-eyed in surprise. You were still taking too long, causing your teacher to prompt you with a grunt and Jungkook to casually reach out and tap the answer again. Your eyes trailing over the written answer before standing up and clearing your throat. The answer rolling off your tongue as easy as breathing; as if you didn't just steal it from a notebook.

You made a silent prayer the teacher didn't notice the sweat threatening to break at your temple. The nervous ticking of your feet tilting from spot to spot. A rush of relief escaping your lips when his response to your answer was to continue class.

You took your seat next to Jungkook; unable to acknowledge him just yet for saving you from whatever punishment your teacher would've no doubt thought of. The realization that Jungkook himself was the reason for your lack of concentration making your cheeks flush an embarrassing pink making your arms wrap protectively around your backpack.

You’d never even brought out your textbook. Never dropped your bag from your desk and no doubt Mr. Choi knew you were given the answer. You buried your mouth against the coarse nylon in a weak attempt to stifle your embarrassment.

“Thank you.”

Your eyes caught the soft tilt of his brow as it rose at the muffled words. You could make out his left shoulder leaning him down towards your huddled position, making your hands involuntarily tighten into your backpack.

“What was that?”

The husky whisper of his words weren't anything you’d heard before, and they resonated up your spine to leave you staring starry-eyed.

“Th-thank you. For giving me the answer.”

He didn't respond. His gaze fixed solely on your face until you forcibly struggled to keep from fidgeting under its weight. After what felt like a small eternity, Jungkook nodded his head and faced forward. The sudden ghost of the death of your conversation causing you to blink at his profile.

The rest of the class was spent with your focus lacking on taking notes. How could you focus with his presence commanding your attention? A small army of ants creeping along your nerves demanding to acknowledge him. It was so strong, when the bell rang you jumped up from your seat to try and escape into the freedom of the school’s hallway, only to end up with your knee connecting straight into the hardwood of the desk. Jungkook’s snort at your misfortune was enough to remind you how much of an arrogant pain in the ass he could be.

“Wow - good job doofus.”

Your head snapped back in his direction; tongue rolling in your cheek as he hopped up from his seat. A hand snaking out to grab his bag and sling it over his shoulder as the other reached for his cane. You held your head high despite how awful your knee was stinging, and stood up adjusting your bag.

“Seriously? That's all you've got? Doofus? Next time let’s try harder.”

Jungkook didn't seemed miffed by your retort, actually seeming more amused than anything, and for some reason it only bugged you more. Did you really want to get into another argument like you were in primary school with him? You discarded the thought as you tightened the strings on your backpack and decided to take the mature route and leave him behind.

The hallways mass of bodies rushing to get to their next period giving you comfort; until you remembered you shared the same economics class. Today was also a field trip to a farm to learn the process of making soy products. It would take up the last few classes of the day. You’d been excited to spend the day out of class and enjoy the rustic scenery out of town. Your only hope was that he hadn't been able to get his parental slip signed; he’d just started the day before. How could he?

When the teacher walked in and asked Jungkook for his permission slip you wanted to howl. Why was the universe so cruel? But why did you care so much?

It was a question you didn't bother to think about; you just grumbled the whole way to the bus. Your teacher standing at its entrance to put a check by your names every time one of your classmates passed him by like lined up cattle. You were the last checkmark: the last person to find an available seat. You rounded the final step and your stomach sank down into your shoes. The universe seeming to play a sick joke of musical chairs; your only options being Jungkook or Amber, the girl who actively struggled to make sure your life was a living hell.

You’d rather be eaten by dogs than even attempt to sit with her. Jungkook it was, then.

Your hand clasped tighter around the strap of your bag as you moved it farther up your shoulder. A large sigh accommodating your steps as you side-stepped down the aisle ending with you in front of his seat. His cane taking up what was left of it.

Jungkook didn't seem to register your presence or he just decided to pretend you weren't there. Either way you felt your annoyance grow as you cleared your throat to grab his attention. His chin barely leaving the perch of his fist as his head turned; gaze intimidating in a way that left your fingers pinching the fabric of yours clothes just to make sure they were still there and he hadn't stared straight through them.

“Can I help you?”

“I need a seat.”

He looked back and no doubt noticed the open spot next to Amber. Jungkook’s giving the slightest nod as he retorted, “There’s one right back there.”

“Come on, Jungkook. What do you want?”

“You're bribing me now?”

His smile was so bright, borderline adorable, and you hated how it threatened to make you retaliate with your own.

“Stop being a brat and just tell me,” you snapped instead.

Jungkook shot a quick glance back at Amber’s giggling figure. You were sure most people thought she sounded like wind chimes or something else cute and feminine, but to you it just sounded like a cat dying. When he looked back at you, Jungkook checked you out one last time. His eyes stopping at the lone earbud that sat against your chest. For a moment, you thought he was actually staring at your breasts making your cheeks burn and your gaze to look anywhere else but at his smug face.

“Let me listen to your iPod there and back on this trip, and I'll let you sit with me.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

Jungkook did a lavish hand sweep at the window. The motion reminding you of the showgirls on The Price is Right, making you believe maybe he’d somehow watched it, and one too many times.

“You get to use your imagination while you look out the window.”

“No way. Joint custody.”

“Fine. Joint custody, but I get to pick the music the whole way. If you have shitty taste the deal's off.”

He stuck out his hand for you to shake and there was a moment, a minor second, that it felt like you were making a deal with the devil. However, the sound of Amber’s laughter practically had your hand bolting into Jungkook’s. You shook it harder than was necessary before dropping it and shooing him to move.

Jungkook removed his bag and cane from the seat. Your legs giving out moments later so you could plop down in it, only to be greeted by his outstretched hand. The smile that spread across his lips shining brighter than the mischief in his eyes.

“As per our agreement: the iPod.”

He wiggles his fingers and you wanted to smack him. Your own squeezing tighter against the metal until, reluctantly, you chose your fate by placing it into his hand. Jungkook didn’t seem to mind your current look of displeasure while you watched him begin to scroll through your assorted music collection.

At least the seat was warm.

The first few seconds were somehow more awkward than you thought possible. Eyes locked in a fifty-yard stare so intense a soldier would’ve been envious. The only movement you caught of him was from your peripherals. Jungkook’s thumbs picking up speed from the leisurely way he scanned through the artists you’d offered. And no you did not, whatsoever, happen to notice the way his bottom lip would dart inside his mouth just to be held gently between his teeth. All the while his eyes focused on the task in front of him.

Nope. You weren’t paying attention to him. Not even a little bit. So how he was able to make you jump twelve inches out of your skin, while you were most definitely not embarrassing yourself by gawking over a beautiful man, was beyond you.

“Ya!” Jungkook clicked his tongue in distaste. His hand wiggling the ipod in your direction, as if it had caused some great offense. “What is this?”

Your neck tiled as you regarded him like he’d grown two heads. You were also positive if your eyebrows knitted together any harder you’d end up with a unibrow.

“Ugh, a mystical device that plays music.”

The look on Jungkook’s face faltered from frustration to annoyance. It was so sudden it ended up sending a bark of laughter in his direction. And just like that, the annoyed look was back again.

“I mean, what the hell do you have on this thing. Who is The Dead Weather? City and Colour? Joji?”

“They are artists I enjoy.”

“They’re shit.”

You rushed to try and snatch it back from him. Jungkook’s reflexes proving to be faster than your growing urge to smack him.

“Excuse me, little miss,” he began. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He used his index finger to push gently against your forehead, but with the current level of irritation, he still proved faster than you. Your failed attempt to swat his hand away meeting only empty air. Earning you a smirk of smug satisfaction.

“I’m trying to get my things back.”

“That wasn’t part of our agreement.”

You tried one last time to take him by surprise. Your right hand shot out too hard to grab at the object clasped in his large hands. The momentum carried you forward to land shoulder first against his chest. Leg nudging against his with enough force that it caused his cane to move an inch. It took everything you had to keep your head down to hide your flaming cheeks.

“And now you’re assaulting me.”

If your eyes were capable of rolling back any father you might've seen brain cells.

“I was only trying to get my property back. Since the only thing that’s coming out of you is complaining.”

“I’m not complaining,” he snapped. “You’re acting like an Indian giver.”

“Is that all you know how to do: complain?” You continued, completely ignoring him. A slight smirk now etching your lips. Jungkook’s eyes flicking down to notice your amusement at his expense. “I believe they call it, ‘trying something new.’”

His eyes narrowed on you and for a split second your pulse began to race. Sure, the agitation on his face at your teasing was obvious, but you could’ve sworn...maybe...just maybe he was smirking. Could you have possibly been able to make him smile?

“I should make you go sit with Amber.”

The smugness in his voice and the cocky smile that joined it instantly made whatever fun you were having come to a complete halt. Jungkook was so pleased with himself he had the audacity to shimmy his shoulders like he’d already won. The rolls had reversed. It was your eyes turn to throw daggers in his direction.

“Now who's the Indian giver.”

Even though he played up on what he felt like was a win, you could tell he was not as amused. His non-injured leg bounced to an incredible rhythm that he could only hear. Probably a furious count to a hundred to keep himself from saying anything else to continue your usual thrilling conversations. So when he handed over one earbud, and the iPod, but placed the other into his ear, it was fair to say it left you baffled.

You were waiting so long for him to give an explanation, but all he did was continue to stare at you. It was starting to make your pulse race again. Why did he constantly have to feel so intense? Everything about him. Not even his current state made him seem any less notable. It just didn’t seem fair.

It wasn’t until he cleared his throat did you realize you’d been staring. For god knows how damn long.

“You gonna play something or not?” he asked.

His hand motioned towards the music while his fingers adjusted the earbud he’d kept.

“I’m so confused.”

“You look it,” he retorted, causing your earlier thoughts to remember, although handsome, he was an incredible pain in the ass.

“Ten seconds ago you complained about my music. Now you want me to play it for you.”

Jungkook turned his gaze away, his body relaxing back against the hard foam of the seat. His eyes still cast outside the window as if he was trying to find some way to escape.

“Either I can spend the next couple hours listening to you talk, or “try” out some new music. If I have a choice, I’ll pick the music please and thank you.”

Oh, how you wish you could’ve shoved him out that tiny window. But as much as you hated to admit it, Jungkook was right. Music was the only reasonable escape from possibly having either of you commit murder.

It was your turn to try and get comfortable. This time your thumb scanning down the list of artists until your eyes caught sight of one he’d mentioned. Without giving him warning you pressed play. The haunting melody of Joji’s “Dancing in the Dark,” flooded the earbuds. His voice melancholic as he began to sing a sad tale of not wanting to be the hidden second option.

The song choice was enough to finally get Jungkook to look back at you. Somehow already having enough with the song choice before it’d barely even reached the chorus.

“Just listen.”

It was the only advice you could give him, and hopefully the reassurance you’d tried to ease into your tone was enough. Whether it was or not, by the time the chorus began he seemingly relaxed again into the seat. His arms moving to cross lazily against his chest. He seemed to actually be taking in the song while he watched out the window. The passing of the steel and concrete that was Seoul into the rural areas of green and forest.

The music itself was calming. It was enough to let yourself fully relax back against it and close your eyes. With your eyes closed you could easily fade out the sounds of the sporadic conversations on the bus. Even though you only had one ear bud, all you needed was to concentrate on the music to drown out the world.

It took a few seconds for you to be pulled into a Joji’s song about terrible longing and being left behind by a lover. I mean, you didn’t really know too much about the latter, but hey, a girl could daydream. His voice was seconds away from heading into the second verse of the chorus, when you heard the sound of the melody being lightly sung beside you.

The voice was beautiful. The most startling part, not the fact of its softness, or the way it swelled in perfect harmony with the song, was that it came from Jungkook. Your eyes flung open with your head snapping to gaze at his serene expression. He continued to face the window, daylight playing along the profile of his face, and his gentle voice singing perfectly in tune.

It wasn’t loud enough that anyone else could’ve heard it over the dozens of bursting conversations being spoken throughout the bus. That the only conclusion you could come up with to why he would be singing at all. He thought no one would be able to pay attention. You probably would’ve stayed gawking at him if his eyes fluttering open didn’t send you crashing back against the seat and clutching your eyes shut. You needed to pretend you hadn’t noticed. Or else he would stop. He would hide this part of himself that showed he was more than what he tried to portray.

You didn’t have to open your eyes to know he was glancing in your direction. To see his eyes gaze over you with suspicion before settling back and listening to the next track. Khalid’s intro of “Talk,” beginning to play into your earbud.

You spent the rest of the trip staying beside him, close as you could get without looking creepy, just to hear him gently sing. He breathed a gentle version of each one he knew, or came to like, and made it his own. Even being a few times were his nerves got the better of him. His voice rising ever slightly when he drew too deep into the song. He would quiet after each outburst, but to your pleasure Jungkook would start back up moments later.

After all the bickering, you could definitely say the trade was worth it. You were so taken with listening to him that when the bus came to a stop, you didn’t realize it until your earbud was yanked from your ears. Your eyes heavy from sleep fluttered open and closed a few times before they focused on Jungkook’s face.

“Ya, didn’t you hear them call us off the bus?”

Your response came in the form of slow blinks and a mouth half-hung open. You wished more for a nap than going out to explore a farm, but your limbs were screaming to be stretched. You went to answer him when, instead, Jungkook grabbed his bag, cane, and started to try and scoot over you.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”

“Trying to get by! So excuse me!”

His backside rubbed against your arms and, to your horror, your chest. Without thinking, your hand lashed out to smack across his bottom causing both of you to go as still as the dead. Your heart was thundering as you looked at your hand like it’d just finished committing murder. Maybe it had. But the only person it’d murdered was you with your eyes roaming up to see a shocked Jungkook gawking down at you over his shoulder.

“Did you really just smack my ass.”

“It was an accident!”

“An accident?” He questioned.

“Self-defense!”

Jungkook tried to hide the amusement your no doubt panicking was causing him. His mouth struggling to keep the frown that was tilting ever so slightly at the top of his lips.

“If anything needed to be defended, it was my honor. Over here just smacking people’s ass’s without a warning.”

You knew by now your face looked like a fire hydrant.

“Self-defense from you dragging your ass all over me! I’m not a seat, ya know.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

This time Jungkook didn’t try to hide his smile. To your surprise, it wasn’t a malicious one that showed he enjoyed your embarrassment. No. This one decorated his face in something softer that made your heart thunder to a different rhythm entirely.

“Oh, look you guys. Shit Stain and The Cripple are flirting.”

Amber’s grating voice was one you’d grown painstakingly accustomed too. The sinister way she spoke impossibly loud just so everyone was forced to hear her. Whether they wanted to or not. You were used to her coldness and the constant way she harassed you. What you weren’t so used to, was having Jungkook as part of the punchline.

Immediately, you felt his legs tense where they touched you. The muscles ramrod straight and flexing under the skin. The lighthearted tone you’d heard seconds before in your banter was now replaced with an aloofness that made you stiffen in your seat. Jungkook’s jaw held tight as he regarded Amber as if she were no more than a pest buzzing at his ear.

“Ya, fix your nose before you bother talking to me. I can see half the planet up there.”

Amber’s eyes flashed hellfire as she glowered over her shoulders to stop the giggling that ensued. When all grew quiet enough to where she felt like she would be heard, a harsh smile spread her lips. Her legs began to take a step to move away from the two peasants who’d held enough of her attention.

“Whatever, Cripple. Try not to get your stick in any holes.”

She was passing the front of your shared seat when, suddenly, Amber’s legs gave way. A tumbling mess of shrieks, bleached hair, and her arms flapping rapidly a solid indication of her mysterious attempt at taking flight. The only thing that moved to catch her was her face. The minute the laughter began to bubble up inside you, you quickly placed a hand over your mouth. Least the she-devil hear it escape.

You took a second to inspect what could’ve possibly taken down the ice queen. Even when she wore ridiculously high heels, Amber walked with a grace you knew you’d never pull off. Not without looking like a newborn giraffe, that is. Glancing down you noticed Jungkook’s cane strategically placed right where her foot would’ve landed. The culprit in making Amber a freshly minted carpet on the bus’s floor. Somewhere on the bus you knew she was up from her tumble and huffing a few choice words. You were sure she knew, just like you did, that Jungkook was the one who’d done it. You paid no attention to her tantrum and kept a transfixed gaze on him.

He’d finished scooting the rest of the way to get to the middle of the bus and was situating his cane and shoulder bag. His hand suddenly reaching down into view and patiently waiting for you to take it.

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s go.”

You knew you looked like a fool. Your eyes mirroring the thousands of silent questions that threatened to make you ill. A part of you hoping he understood your dumbfounded look simply begged him to find some way to answer you. You’d stared starry-eyed up at him for so long you half expected the patience of Jungkook’s open hand to fall flat. Instead, he continued to surprise you. His gaze gentle, and hand openly waiting for you to take it when you were ready.

With eyes wide and mouth agape, your body rejected your stunned silence and placed a small hand in his. His own quickly enveloped yours perfectly and gave you the added support you needed to find stable footing beside him. Jungkook finally looked away from you to stare at the remaining goons.

The moment you stood beside him you became painfully aware of the noticeable height difference. Your gaze moving up inch-by-inch until your eyes were locked onto his face. The stubbornness of a hard set jaw and eyes that dared anyone to speak enough to make your heartbeat pick up in your chest. When he appeared to be finished making sure his presence was known, Jungkook’s eyes turned back to you. A silent request of reassurance to know you were alright making you answer with a quick nod.

Your cheeks blushed furiously as you struggled to look away from his gaze. No longer were you so worried about Amber; your mind trapped on a repeat of questions. Did Jungkook always smell like Calvin Klein cologne? Could it be considered weird how you felt undeniable comfort pressed up against him? Or really weird if in your head you suddenly imagined recreating this scene a million times later with you being braver beside him, instead of being the damsel in distress.

He didn’t seem at all perplexed with your case of sudden shyness. His strong legs pulling you both forward and past the horde of Amber and her lackeys without missing a step. His head held high while the other hand helped him keep his balance without using his cane. For the small world that was high school, Jungkook showed them he was still that once popular boy who was known for not taking shit from no one. A demi-god amongst mere mortals that were somehow honored by his presence.

And here you were. So close to the orbit of his sun and walking away unscathed.

Your train of rushing thoughts kept you from paying attention. It was something you soon were going to regret when he led you off the steps of the bus and onto the dirt road. Jungkook’s exit was obviously graceful while yours in comparison was a train wreck. Instead of your feet stepping off the last step and landing like a normal person, you lost your footing. Your clumsy feet sending you struggling to find a balance with the earth before you crash landed on the floor. Luckily, Jungkook’s back was there to catch you.

The momentum of your fall sent his feet skittering to correct you both before you fell into the dirt. A few choice cuss words leaving his lips and crimson flaring up on your cheeks to make the dance of falling even more entertaining. You could practically hear the cackling of the witches echoing out of the bus like a cave.

Jungkook made quick work of righting you both; his good leg furiously hoping to support the weak one. His cane dug into the earth a good inch to add some more stabilization. You let go of his hand and moved away from his side where you’d previously been planted. You weren’t worthy of being there. This boy who saw your distress and helped you. Only for you to ruin it in the process.

“Well that’s one way to ruin an exit,” he huffed.

He glanced in your direction and you could’ve sworn he was smiling. Or was that a smirk? Whatever it was, it was quickly washed away as his eyes took you in. “You okay?”

“I’m sorry!”

Your words rushed from your lips with your back snapping to bow a perfect ninety-degrees. Your hair a curtain to try and hide your embarrassment.

“Ugh...for what?”

“For bumping into you like that. I should’ve been paying attention.”

A soft laugh bounced from between his lips and you were willing to beat his face lit up like pure sunshine. You moved to stand upright just in time to see you were right. Jungkook was either oblivious to the way you were looking at him, or was simply unfazed. His shoulder hiking the backpack where it’d begun to fall as he adjusted himself to get ready to move to join the rest of the class up ahead.

“You did ruin one hell of a stylish exit.”

“I don’t know how stylish you can be stepping off of a school bus, but...thank you.”

The both of you locked eyes with one another. A large part of you hoped Jungkook was able to see the sincerity or at least hear it. Maybe he wasn’t that much of a pain in the ass after all. That soft smirk you’d grown accustomed to etched back on his lips as he took the first step towards your waiting classmates.

“No problem. Plus, I figured I owed you for letting me listen to your music.”

You felt your brow shoot up in mock surprise. Your legs falling into step beside him.

“I thought you said I had terrible taste.”

“I never said terrible,” Jungkook corrected. His eyes danced with a playfulness that lifted a smile to your lips

“You could’ve fooled me.”

“Well, it wasn’t the greatest, but thank you. I actually ended up liking most of it, at least.”

“Oh, what a sweet way of insulting my musical taste.”

“Hey! I said I liked most of it. It’s like a win-win. Kinda.”

You wanted to be snappy. Give him some more hell for always playing up on being a condescending moody jerk. In reality, walking next to Jungkook while the silence swelled around you without the awkward pressure; you knew that wasn’t all of him. He’d proven how sweet he could be at the memory of how easily you’d felt protected by a simple stretch of a hand. The look in his eyes while he waited for you to take his extended hand a plea to know you could trust him. Strangely, a part of you already felt like you could.

You snuck a look over in Jungkook’s direction, and felt a smile begin to sweep up the corners of your lips. It was a different, but nice, change to have someone come to your defense. Yeah, most of the time you wanted to throttle him for seeming like he could care less. In that moment, however, he cared enough to help. That had to mean something.

“You’re welcome.”

You hoped your words conveyed the gratitude you felt in that moment. Prayed that Jungkook could hear it. When he looked at you, you made sure to give him a quick smile before you looked away. Your eyes struggled not to look back at him; to tell him all the things that were racing through your head. It took every ounce of your will to stay focused on the group of classmates that were growing closer. Somewhere along the way, you’d hoped Jungkook would’ve replied with his usual smart ass remarks. It worried you how sad a small part of you felt at his silence.

Now, you worried maybe you were going a little nuts.

Instead, you came to the edge of the group in silence. Your ears struggling to grasp on to the middle of what your teacher gave out for instructions for the day.

So what if that insane part of you didn’t receive a smart ass remark in return for your gratitude. You were more than happy with the fact Jungkook stayed by your side. The close proximity just enough to convey what you were both feeling without unnecessary words.

______________

For the past hour the farmer -Kim Sejung - had shown the class around his vast property. The beginning of this magical tour starting with where he manufactured the tofu once it was fermented then sent down to be processed for packaging. He was a man who took immense pride in his work. The next room where the fermentation took place and, his overeager explanation, spelled out how devoted he was to his craft.

The whole entire backwards presentation was something your teacher decided became a chance for everyone to write down everything you’d been shown. A punishment you knew was coming when Kim Sejung lost half the class to their own conversations long before you’d hit the second part of his speech.

Now, anyone could be wondering why all of you were taking the longest stroll of your life out in the middle of the farm. A fair question you’d been asking yourself since you realized your shoes were completely covered in mud. You’d been trying to understand why this hadn’t been the first place Kim Sejung would’ve taken all of you. Your only guess being he just enjoyed showing the process backwards. Or maybe he was secretly a mastermind at torture. It was the only logical conclusion you could come up with at having the entire class now out in the muddy acres of his farm.

And sure, maybe your attention was being sent over your shoulder every five seconds. A certain boy with exhaustion creased in his brow making it harder for you to ignore. You were looking back so often you felt like you’d end up with whiplash at any minute. Really, it was all Jungkook’ fault for causing you to worry; becoming painfully aware with each glance at Jungkook’s struggling frame.

How Sejung -, or anyone else for that matter, hadn’t noticed he was falling further behind the group with every step left you completely perplexed. You’d gave up listening to whatever the farmer or teacher talked about or what questions they were throwing around. You could bet it had to do about soil.

If everyone else could ignore him why couldn’t you? It’s not that you hadn’t tried, cause of course you’d done exactly that. Your bottom lip now held a semi-permanent indent from your teeth. Whenever you felt that tick in your neck to look back to check on him: you bit down. When you felt like drawing attention to him by saying something: you bit down. A part of you willing to bet Jungkook would never forgive you if you did.

Your solution? It was ingenious, really.

You fell back behind every classmate. Patiently, you waited for everyone to pass you up. Your feet dragging in the muddy dirt until you were sure no one would notice when you inevitably stopped.

With a soft count of three under your breath, you came to a halt at the back of the group. Your small count continued for another round before you were comfortable with the distance it’d placed between the group, Jungkook, and yourself.

You let out a huff of satisfaction as you turned around to give Jungkook your complete attention. Your neck thanking you for the small favor. What you found, however, greeting you was far from what you’d hoped to find.

Jungkook’s current location became a solid five feet behind the group. His feet finally coming to the large puddle of mud that you and the class had easily maneuvered Jungkook had not. His struggle coming to a standstill at the muddy puddles edge. Jungkook’s face etched itself in harsh determination to no doubt allow him from moving forward. You told yourself you would stay back and wait for him.

Just wait, You kept telling yourself over and over. A broken record having nothing on what you felt capable of standing there. Your pulse bonding in your veins and feet bouncing with anxiety as he assessed his options. All you were supposed to do was hang back to walk with him. That was it. You weren’t his nanny. You knew how he felt about being pitied, and yet, when he took his first tentative step out into the mud and his cane sunk deep and his bad leg followed suit, your feet deceived you.

It appeared Mother Nature had her own way of pushing you past your reserved good intentions. Your feet sprinted forward fast enough that you were embarrassed at their quickness. The expected movement bringing Jungkook’s frustrated gaze up from his current dilemma to you.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?”

The annoyance held in his question didn’t go unnoticed by you. If it was you in his position, you’d be annoyed seeing you standing there too and not offering to help.

“I came to help you.”

The words just streamed out with your running thoughts. Your feet willing to move forward back into the mud to help him. Jungkook noticeably began to struggle to remove his foot that submerged quickly underneath.

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

“You didn’t have too, Jungkook. I want to help.”

“Let me rephrase myself.” His irritation was pure fire in his eyes as his words hurled in your direction. “I didn’t ask for it and I don’t want it.”

You wish you could say you handled his dismissal with grace. That you understood he was only being a jerk because he was embarrassed and angry at his current predicament. You really wanted to be that bigger person. Well...that most definitely wasn’t what happened.

Your eyes narrowed in on him. Your previous desire to help evaporated as you watched his leg sink deeper. His other foot soon joined the first in a poorly calculated attempt to release the other. Your arms crossed over your chest as you took in the scene before you.

“Well, Jungkook, I’m not sure if you noticed but you’re slowly heading towards being buried under that mud.”

“Thank you for that astute observation. Anything else you’d like to add?”

“Why are you being such an asshole?!” you snapped.

Your arms came loose down at your side and turned to clenched fists. You weren’t exactly sure what you expected his reaction to be. You knew Jungkook held a hatred for being pitied. Hell, you would too if it was the other way around. You knew he wasn’t helpless, but you also knew he couldn’t do everything alone. No one could. So what was so wrong with offering to help him?

You weren’t sure how you looked. Maybe crazy? Or did the desperation of not knowing how to handle the situation have you appear sad? Whatever it was Jungkook saw, it was enough to look away. His eyes dropping down to his covered feet.

The space between the two of you swelled with tension. His hair perfectly covering his face, and kept you from being able to steal any glance. It was enough to make you unsure if you should prepare yourself for a verbal battle with him or if you should simply walk away. What if you’d made a mistake thinking Jungkook would want to be bothered at all with help. Especially from you.

“God, this is embarrassing.”

His words were so light you weren’t sure at first if he’d spoken. A part of you wondering if you’d made up the sound of his voice as Jungkook’s face continued to be hidden by layers of hair. But, lord help you, you knew you weren’t imagining things. The sound of his voice is something you’d come to recognize with ease. You knew without a doubt it most definitely was him. And the sadness that reverberated from his words made your anger dissipate instantly.

“What?”

Could you have picked a stupider response? When Jungkook lifted his head up to look at you, you knew he silently agreed.

“It’s embarrassing!” His hands motioned to take in his current predicament. The hurt shown on his proud features made your heart ache to comfort him. “How pitiful can I get? It’s so damn frustrating! The cripple unable to get himself out of some stupid mud.”

“Jungkook, you are literally the least pitiful person I’ve ever met.”

“And yet, it doesn’t make me any less stuck.”

You took a step forward and began to try and edge around what you could of the puddle. You knew there was no way you weren’t getting more mud on your shoes, but the purpose was worth it.

“Why didn’t you just go around it?” Your question earned you a dead stare. One that reminded you of your mother when she felt like you’d asked the silliest question. You held your hands up in surrender and said, “Hey. It’s a fair question.”

“If I just go around it, it proves that I can’t do the simplest thing, Y/N. It proves…”

“That you aren’t like everybody else,” you finished for him.

You could’ve kicked yourself. How could you not have noticed it sooner. Jungkook just wanted to prove to himself that he could still do things like he did before his accident. Because even though he showed people bringing up his disability didn’t bother him, it did. He still hadn’t come to terms with what happened, and believed the current state of his leg deemed him less worthy.

He looked away from whatever he saw in your eyes. His own fighting not to show the sadness that threatened to spill down his cheeks.

“You aren’t like everyone else, Jungkook.” Your words tore his head back in your direction. His shoulders quickly squared up to take whatever verbal blow you were about to hurl in his direction. You were happy to convince him otherwise.

“You don’t need to prove anything to a single person. Yeah, you aren’t a hundred percent who you used to be, but it doesn’t make you any less you. You aren’t defined by a damn leg and if another human being does treat you differently because of it: fuck’em. Now, get your shit together and hand me the end of your cane.”

The both of you stared at one another for what felt like an eternity. Jungkook’s face unreadable as his eyes took you in making you squirm just the slightest bit. Whether he was looking for a hint that you were deceiving him; that something hurtful laid underneath, he wouldn’t find it. You made sure with your hand this time open and waiting for him, that he could see just how much you meant what you said.

After what felt like a baby size eternity, Jungkook answered you in a way you’d grown to expect. In one swift motion, he picked his cane out from the mud and placed it, dirty end first into your waiting hand. Your face scrunched up in disgust, as the leftover mud squished between your fingers. The action enough to break the coldness of Jungkook’s blank expression into the smirk that was all too familiar.

“Oh my god! You would do that.”

The amusement on his face was enough to tell you he’d most definitely done it on purpose. Of course, you’d already known that. You didn’t need his raised eyebrow or that devilish smirk to inform you of that.

“Oh, so you think you know me now.”

“I know enough to know, without a doubt, this is something you’d do. Brat.”

You saved the last word for good measure and it was met with a bark of surprise laughter. His reaction was not something you’d expected, but a welcomed one as his face instantly lit up brighter than you’d ever seen. Jungkook’s laughter and smile was genuine and good god, was it breathtakingly adorable.

Who knew calling him a brat led to so many heart stopping possibilities? Like no longer having a permanent scowl.

“Alright smart ass, how about we settle this for when I’m not stuck in the mud.”

“You got yourself a deal. Only if you stop pouting.”

“I was not pouting!”

It was your turn to laugh wholeheartedly while your other hand moved to secure itself to his cane. There was no way you’d be letting it slip free from you. Mud or no mud.

“Tomato potato: pouting is pouting.”

Jungkook’s head tilted to the side. His brain noticeably trying to comprehend what it was you just said.

“That makes absolutely no sense.”

“It makes perfect sense, Jungkook now grab a hold of yo-“

Honestly, you should’ve seen this coming. He’d already given you a muddy end of a cane. It was the perfect foreshadowing moment that was leading up to this, and yet, somehow you were surprised when he pulled with full force. You figured he was strong - not freakishly. Not enough to send you flying face first toward the large mud puddle with the sound of a squeaking bird of surprise that you could only assume was yourself.

The only thing that kept you from going face first was a split second decision to ruin just the lower half of your outfit.

The impact with the mud was squishy and came with the weirdest sound effects that reminded you of pushing your hand into a container of slim. God, was it squishy. An immediate, “Ewww,” dragging out from your lips as your hands lifted up from where they’d been buried. Your eyes taking in the full extent of your lower half now resembles the Swamp Thing.

Jungkook’s laughter brought you back to reality and flinging what was left of the mud on your hands in his direction. It only earned you another bark of laughter.

“What in the hell was that for?!”

“Now whose pouting?” He teased.

You wanted to hit him but you knew you couldn’t reach. So you settled for flinging another round of mud.

“Are you kidding me? You pulled me in here cause I said you were pouting!”

“Yup.”

“Unbelievable. You’re a child.”

“I thought you said brat?”

“That too! Ugh! Jungkook! You’re such a pain in the ass. I’m not helping you anymore.”

You moved to try and pull up one leg and found it way more difficult than you’d imagined. Seriously, was this shit superglue? No matter how many times you struggled to pull up either leg it wouldn’t budge; producing an agitated groan to seep from your body.

You wanted to murder him.

When you glanced up at him at least Jungkook had the decency to appear worried.

“Do you need help? I didn’t think it’d be so hard for you to pull yourself up.”

“Oh, so you’re worried about me not being able to pull myself up, but not about me covered in mud.”

The shrug Jungkook gave as an answer made you want to throttle him. You wanted to tell him to shove his help up his ass. Realistically, however, you knew there was no way you were getting unstuck without getting dirtier from crawling around. For a second time, his hand appeared, like magic, in front of you.

Your eyes trailed up his hand to that devilish grin of his and found your earlier agitation disintegrate. What you hated the most, was how his eyes lit up to match his smile. This warm version of Jungkook wasn’t someone you were used to. You’d seen the cocky jock who knew he was good at everything. Experienced the real asshole Jungkook that made you want to rip out chunks of hair. But this side of him...was worth a heartache or two.

Without another thought you reached out and took his hand and allowed him to start lifting you up. It wasn’t until you were half way you came up with your own plan. A devilish grin of your own spreading your lips wide as the idea grew into something worth doing .

Jungkook had a moment to be confused before your free hand shot out and took fierce hold of his forearm. You made sure it was locked in place before your body went completely limp, and sent his body into an unbalanced mess.

“The fu-!”

Jungkook’s descent, at first, made you feel like you’d accomplished a victory. One you didn’t get to relish in for long. Jungkook may not have been able to finish his earlier sentence, but you easily made up for it. A softened, “Fuck!” came pressed from your chest as he landed sideways on top of you. The angle reminded you of an awkward pair of scissors: if one part of the scissors was ridiculously muscled for a student.

You’d had little time to move your hands up to brace yourself against his weight. The air from your lungs whooshing out in laughter with your body struggling to recover from underneath him. And no, no you weren’t painfully aware that your hands could feel every well lined muscle under the fabric of his t-shirt. And no, you were not blushing. Not even a little.

You were sure when Jungkook lifted his head up to look in your direction, he’d see the sinful glee you took in your awkward positioning. Instead, your lungs erupted into laughter. One side of his face perfectly smeared with mud making one eye remain closed and his right doing most of the work. He looked ridiculous...and cute.

“You think this is funny?”

“I think-I think it’s the best thing I’m going to see all day.”

It took a few tries to speak through your laughter, but when you finally got the words out you couldn’t have been more proud. Jungkook on the other hand, seemed to struggle to keep the annoyance on his face. The first sign of a smile cracking into the mud that began to dry on his face.

Jungkook moved to prop himself up - the action giving you the room you needed to wiggle out from underneath him. You were about to call it a success, a retort to an unspoken comment he’d yet to make. All of it came crashing down, however, when Jungkook’s mud covered hand rose from the depths and placed a long streak down your nose with his thumb giving an artistic sweep across your cheek.

The marks he gave reminded you of those old western movies you’d seen. Warpaint covered faces of men getting ready to square off to defend their home from invaders. The thought seemed to match perfectly with the beat of your heart thundering like a drum inside your chest.

It wasn’t just because Jungkook touched you - on purpose - in a playful way. It had nothing to do with the fact his muddy hand was currently resting against your cheek. Or from the denial that it brought out a spark of mischievous happiness to ignite inside you as your mouth fell open to expose the sound of laughter. No, your heart pounded against your chest purely for the look that passed behind chocolate eyes and the soft smile that followed close behind.

So, sure. In that instance it could’ve just been a plan old look. You weren’t a hundred percent sure it wasn’t more than just a look though, either. There was that one boy in first grade, however, who did give you an aggressive teeth-clacking peck on the lips during recess, but this was completely different.

And because you were so uncertain of what it all meant, your only reaction was to lift your hand up from beside you and slam it palm first against his face.

Jungkook’s face lit up in shock and you couldn’t stop the eruption of laughter that spilled from your lips. It was an immediate rush of joy at seeing his handsome face marked by your small muddy handprint that streaked itself across the plains of his face. Normally, you’d be mortified: waiting patiently to be scolded and made to feel small. Instead, the shock wore off his face in an instant. Jungkook’s eyes lighting up with childlike excitement as a giddy, “Oh yeah?” rushed between his lips.

You didn’t have a chance to wonder what he meant before he reached into the mud and brought up a snowball version of the earth.

“Oh, no you don’t!”

Your eyes went wide and frantic giggles exploded free as your body struggled in vain to get out from under him. The previous joy of being pinned by his weight dissipating when that large mud ball found its new home smeared on top of your head.

“Jungkook-ah!”

His own laughter rose up around you as your body began to move in earnest to get out from under him. When you finally realized it was pointless, another bright idea overtook you. If Jungkook noticed the renewed mischievous glint in your eye, he didn’t show it.

He continued to smile obliviously down at you until the two fist fulls of mud you’d taken in both hands came crashing down on top of his head. It didn’t matter that your face caught some of the aftermath: the face he made was priceless.

You didn’t get a chance to enjoy your tiny victory before the two of you were a mess of arms and limbs rolling feverishly around; the two of you playfully wrestling for dominance. The mixture of your laughter rising up until you weren’t sure where Jungkook’s ended and yours began. By the end of it, you were both resembling the pigs you’d seen earlier on the farm. Bodies fully covered in wet earth and lounging beside each other in exhaustion. Every few moments random fits of giggles overtaking the two of you until you realized you both needed to get back.

This time, instead of the two of you refusing help from the other, you eagerly took it. The both of you worked together to reach the edge of the mud pit and, without further incident, pulled each other out.

The walk back to the main barn was done in silence. In other circumstances, you would’ve been consumed with a need to fill it. The impending weight of anxiety would’ve flared across your skin until you would’ve blurted out anything. Small talk was never one of your strong suits, but a comfortable banter had somehow formed between the two of you. You knew if you started talking, Jungkook would respond. It was still a fifty-fifty on whether or not it would be a smart ass response or a real one, but a response nonetheless.

You didn’t try to start a conversation. You chose to enjoy the reassurance that he was beside you. Your mind running through what exactly just happened and how you both ended up looking like bad impression art. You’d spent so much time stealing glances in his direction that you could’ve sworn you caught him doing the same. But who were you kidding. No one had stolen glances at you since middle school, and that was only to steal the answers off tests.

There was no way Jeon Jungkook would be the one to break that trend. No matter how flattering the thought. So when you felt that knowable itch of being watched you found yourself surprised that Jungkook was indeed staring at you.

“Are you cold?”

Jungkook’s question jolted you from your train of thought and sent you reeling into another. He was closer to you now. Close like you’d been while sitting on the bus with your shoulders brushing with every movement. Every bump helplessly sending you lightly banging into the other.

On the bus you could easily play it off as something out of your control. But now? Now there was no good explanation that you could find to why Jungkook decided to walk so closely beside you. There was no way to explain away the way his gaze drew across your face like he’d save it to memory.

“Well I am covered in freezing mud water.”

You’d tried for sarcasm but your voice barely carried over a whisper. It made Jungkook’s head subconsciously dip lower just to hear you. The devilish smirk he was infamous for spread like wildfire across his lips.

“I would offer you my jacket, since it’s the gentlemanly thing to do, but you see some crazy person pushed me into the mud.”

A scoff escaped you as your hand playfully whipped out to slap his shoulder.

“Ya, Jungkook! You? A gentleman? That’s funny. What is also funny is the fact you got yourself stuck in the mud first. I just came to rescue you.”

“Rescue me?” He asked with an eyebrow coyly cocked.

“I’m like your knight in shining armor.”

A throaty laugh came from between his lips; sending his head back exposing his face to the sun. You were mesmerized watching him as the sun kissed down across his face and weren’t at all ashamed at being caught watching as he brought his attention back to you. A smile of your own growing to match the one he wore along with your mind fluttering in wonder of how he was even real.

“If you’re my knight, Y/N I’m in a lot of trouble.”

You feigned hurt but couldn’t hide the grin happily splayed on your face and, crazy thing was, you didn’t want to. It felt impossible that the two of you were so giddy with each other. A strange familiarity brewed heavily between you to the point it felt like the two of you joked like this for years.

Jungkook’s own smile enough to warm the chill that began to creep up your arms to expose goosebumps on your skin. The two of you fell into a shroud of companionable silence and continued to make your way back to the main entrance of the farm. Your heart skipping a helpless beat every time you feel Jungkook’s fingers graze across yours. Your mind hopelessly wanting to believe maybe, just maybe, he was tempted to reach out and hold it.

You came back to the main farm and found your teacher and classmates impatiently waiting. The immediate shock your teacher showed at your appearance seemed to grow more intense until he came storming over: hysterical at your current condition.

“What on earth have the two of you been doing?!”

“They’ve been rolling around with pigs.”

You knew that tart voice anywhere and wasn’t surprised it was Amber that spoke. What did surprise you was how much you didn’t care with Jungkook standing like an equally filthy calm current by your side.

“We’re sorry, seonsaegnim,” Jungkook began coolly with a bow. When he realized you were still standing a hand shot out to the back of your head to bring it down. You quickly slapped it away but kept yourself in a bow. “We got lost from the group and found ourselves stuck in a giant mud pit.”

“It seems to me like you were playing in it,” the farmer chuckled. “I could hose them off before they get back on the bus.”

His offer left heat rising to your cheeks. The sound of a sea of giggles making your stomach ache in embarrassment. You used the curtain of your hair to hide and hoped they’d come up with a different suggestion, but with a small shrug of his shoulder, Jungkook brought your heated attention back to him. A soft smile cracking the now dry handprint you’d left across his cheek.

It was ridiculous. You both looked ridiculous, and yet, he was still handsome. You probably looked like a troll.

“Hey Knight in shining armor,” he whispered. “It seems we get to take a bath together.”

The sun couldn’t be anywhere near as hot as your face felt. The heat spread from red cheeks and down your neck until the butterflies in your stomach were out of control. Jungkook knew what he had done. He could see it plainly on your face and he loved it.

You, on the other hand, wanted to hit him.

And just like divine intervention your teacher did it for you. His curled up pamphlet struck down on top of Jungkook’s head, but it only made his smile grow impossibly larger.

“Ya! I don’t think so! We’ll have you go one at a time to clean up. I’ll look for something for you both to change into.”

Jungkook went first to be hosed down. The farmer actually allowed him to have his privacy so he could get into his more...private areas in peace. The clothes that were found for both of you to wear were old gym clothes thrown in a box in the storage bay at the bottom of the bus. You imagined they must have been thrown there for a reason. The colors were sad and faded down to a color that resembled the mud you’d fallen in. An even sadder rim of yellow wrapped around the sleeves the only hope of color in the terrible outfit you were now forced to wear. At least it was warm with the added bonus Jungkook somehow ended up with the shortest shorts in the box.

After the two of you dried off and changed you were shepherded onto the bus. The place that held Amber and her minions now vacant due to the teacher demanding you sit exactly in the far back in their spot. He must have imagined it would be like putting two naughty kids in time out. The only effect it really had was giving you the chance to breathe and enjoy the solitude.

Jungkook dug around for your earbuds inside your bag. Finally finding the small container and lifting it open. His fingers pulling out the left and surprising you by placing it gently in your ear. Your face must have shown this but Jungkook paid you no mind. He was busy placing the other bud into his ear; flipping the case shut and throwing it back inside to forever be lost until you practically tipped out your bag to locate it again. Oh well. A problem for another time.

“Put on something for the ride home, Y/N. I trust you to be dj again.”

You wanted to tease him. To joke about putting on the YMCA or Macarena . The only thing that stopped you was the relaxed features of Jungkook’s face. The lazy way his neck rested back against the seat and his head languidly gazing in your direction. You tried to squish back all the butterflies that look gave you and a hushed, “Alright. Lady Marmalade it is,” embarrassingly came from between your lips.

Your eyes were too focused on your music list. You didn’t allow them to look as he chuckled beside you. The sound light and rough all at once - demanding you give it attention.

“Don’t make me regret it,” he joked.

You kept scrolling until you found Deans’ “D (Half Moon)”. The soft piano and tone of his voice quickly filled the ear buds and by the soft hum of the voice beside you, you knew you’d pick a good one.

You allowed yourself to relax beside him. Your right hand placing the playlist down between the two of you. Your body was so relaxed you didn’t think about moving your hand anywhere else. Your eyes falling comfortably closed as you continue to listen to the acoustics of the song and the even softer, and equally pleasurable, song of Jungkook singing along.

When his left hand found its way down beside yours, you didn’t question his reasoning. The music held between the two of you and maybe he wanted to change the playlist. You let your mind continue to think that even after his finger gingerly grazed yours and found a home beside them. Both of your hands stayed this way the entire ride back to campus. Neither of you moved to change positions; lost to the sounds of the melodies of the playlist.

#jeon jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fluff #bts smut #jungkook fluff #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #requested fic #bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook #kpop

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jaskiersvalley · 4 years

Note

Oh my god im the anon with the cuckoowitcher ask. I've been running around all day trying to have a few quiet Moments to read! I really loved it thank you so much. I've been reading all your lovely Storys but I have to say I have a Soft Spot for cuckoo Jas. Thank you for responding and writing something so sweet. Still love your writing and it still helps a hell a lot! Lots of love! Hope to see much more

Some people get stuck in my head and you, cuckoo Jaskier Nonnie, are one of those people because you’re always so polite and sweet. So while I may not have more cuckoo Jaskier stories at the moment, I wonder whether you’d like something else. There’s a lot of warlord Geralt going around, with Jaskier offered up as a tribute. But has anybody ever considered warlord Jaskier before?

It had started off as a side gig, Jaskier would always be adamant about that. He had wanted to be a bard. Sing songs, witness adventures and maybe be adored by the masses, that was his grand plan for life. Unfortunately, being a travelling bard didn’t pay well and people weren’t as quick to laud him as Jaskier had hoped. However, according to Redanian Secret Services, he was in the unique position to help them gather intelligence. So, on the side as Jaskier collected materials for his greatest works yet, he also picked up intel on armies, prisoners, relationships between factions, species and kingdoms. It was quite eye opening.

The only problem with it all was that Jaskier wasn’t stupid. He could see where wars were brewing, what allegiances were being forged. And, really, Jaskier thought he could do so much better. The information he was returning back to Redania wasn’t being used in the best way possible. So Jaskier started tailoring the information to ‘help’ them along. He had also managed to make friends with a few of the other intelligence officers, namely Valdo and Priscilla. Between the three of them, they had quite a spread of information and spent many a drunken night gossiping over maps, discussing how they would solve the problems of the continent.

One thing led to another and suddenly Jaskier had more than two fellow spies at his beck and call. Somehow he’d ended up with the loyalty of the dwarves, Zoltan and his crew being quite helpful. Then Filavandrel and his elves entered a truce with Jaskier, followed by Triss Merigold and a handful of sorceresses. It was haphazard at best but word travelled. And suddenly Jaskier was being approached by the Redanian Secret Service not as a spy but as an equal. They wanted to trade information and Jaskier almost laughed. Except, after Redania came Nilfgaard, offering riches in exchange for information and good relations. Not like Jaskier had an army or lands or anything like that. Did he? The dwarves and elves had their own regions, Redania was trying to save face that their own officers had done a better job of keeping the peace. Well, there was no harm in keeping on good terms with Nilfgaard, they had been the thorn in the continent’s side for a while. Maybe by being friendly, Jaskier and co could actually help settle issues.

When Temeria took umbrage at Jaskier’s meddling, it was one hell of an awkward moment because Redania, Nilfgaard, elves, dwarves and even Aedirn joined forces to quiet the unrest. Which was a turning point of sorts. Suddenly, every kingdom great or small came knocking on Jaskier’s door. He’d returned to Lettenhove because home was home. The steady stream of well wishers and ambassadors was, frankly, embarrassing. Jaskier had a hard time keeping up with everything.

Then there was the matter of Kaedwen. They were trying to be fiercely independent and up in arms. It just wasn’t going to do and, for the first time in his life, Jaskier asked his newfound allies if anyone was willing to raise arms against the threat. Unsurprisingly, Nilfgaard was down for a battle or two but they were joined by the elves. Redania offered medical assistance while the dwarves and trolls helped with supplies. It was all rather anticlimactic, an army marching to Kaedwen, only to be greeted by a white flag.

Not all battles were so easy though, sometimes factions arose, Cintra was being a royal twit and the war fought with them and Skellige was brutal. In the end though, they were defeated, Queen Calanthe had to admit defeat. Despite this, they weren’t prepared to roll over and play nice. In an attempt to display might and dignity, they sent the most extravagant offerings to Lettenhove. It wasn’t riches, no silks, no finery or gold. Instead, they had captured the most difficult of offerings. A witcher.

He was trussed up in his own silver chains. Silver for monsters as witchers had been known to say. It was a warning from Cintra, they had caught the most feared of beasts, the monster designed to kill all monsters. They wouldn’t bow down to a warlord, no matter what the kingdoms thought and did. The witcher was tied to a horse and made to walk behind it though a shuffle was a more apt description.

Jaskier stood in the hall of Lettenhove and watched as the half starved wretch was shoved to his knees in front of him. A hungry witcher was a weak one, much easier to subdue and manage.

“A gift, from Cintra,” the messenger had declared and stepped away with a bow.

Approaching the witcher, Jaskier ignored how every eye seemed trained on him, hands on swords and prepared to leap to his protection. Rather than pay them any attention, Jaskier sank to his knees in front of the witcher.

“Hello,” he offered. There was no response, the witcher’s head was bowed, whole body tense, trying to exude disdain and an air of threat. Up close, Jaskier could see the fine tremors through muscles though. He stood up. “Please pass my thanks to Cintra, I accept your fealty and this offering. Though I would request no more live tributes. Or dead ones! Gold, silks, food and shared knowledge is more than enough. Court dismissed.”

Nobody moved for a moment. “Everyone out!”

Jaskier stood next to the witcher who hadn’t moved throughout the exchange. As soon as they were alone, he was crouching down, tugging at the silver chains.

“You poor thing, how could they treat you like that.” Gradually, the witcher was freed from his bonds and as soon as he could, he had Jaskier’s own dagger at Jaskier’s throat. “Harsh,” Jaskier observed, “but fair. Can we save the killing for after dinner though? I have always found having a full stomach helped with most decisions.”

He didn’t expect the witcher to waver, the dagger fall from his hands and for him to collapse on the ground in a dead faint. It seemed that springing on Jaskier had really been the last of his energy. What a waste.

Needless to say, there was no killing after dinner. Jaskier learned that the witcher was called Geralt, he’d been to Cintra to collect his child surprise but Queen Calanthe had different ideas. Trapped, Geralt had been helpless to do anything which was how he’d ended up becoming an offering to a warlord.

That had Jaskier laughing. He wasn’t a warlord. If anything, Jaskier was a failed bard and a very bad intelligence officer because he thought he could do better than those he worked for. It wasn’t his fault people were pledging their allegiances to him or that he had to ask if anyone was willing to help deal with a threat to the peace that he was bringing to the continent. No, Jaskier wasn’t a warlord because he helped bring new rules to kingdoms and enforced them. Oh shit. He was a warlord. His parents were going to be so pissed off when they found out.

“I think they already know,” Geralt had interrupted Jaskier’s internal panic. “You might have been the last person on the continent to find out.”

“But I didn’t mean to become one.”

“I didn’t mean to become a witcher. Destiny is a bitch.” Geralt had shrugged. “At least you get to choose who you will speak to from different kingdoms. Is Emhyr over the fact you won’t talk to him yet? That you picked some general of his army as a representative”

Jaskier rubbed the back of his neck with an awkward grin. “I mean, I just figured the Emperor of Nilfgaard himself wouldn’t want to deal with me. So I picked someone who would and who I liked. Then I heard of what Emhyr’s like and just decided I liked my pick better.”

Over the course of a week, Geralt ate and rested, gaining back his strength and resilience. Jaskier admired from afar, astounded by how quickly his witcher seemed to bounce back. Not his witcher. Geralt didn’t belong to anyone. Even if Jaskier quite fancied the idea.

“You’re free to come and go. I’ve set out a new law that’s making its way round the lands. Witchers are to be lauded and appreciated for their hard work,” Jaskier said as he stood, facing Geralt by the stables. His witcher was ready to head out on the Path again, hopefully it was going to be a little easier for him from now on.

“Thank you.” The thing was, Geralt sounded so earnestly genuine. “I was wondering, could you keep something safe for me until I return?”

An unusual request but Jaskier would help if he could.

“You’ve been a wonderful guest, even if your arrival wasn’t the most wholesome one. I’ll keep anything safe for you.”

He didn’t anticipate Geralt leaning in to kiss him chastely. “Keep my heart safe. I’m leaving it in your good care.”

The bastard then had the gall to hop onto his horse and ride off without a backwards glance. Jaskier was going to tell him exactly what he thought of that tactic when he came back. Until then, he would treasure Geralt’s heart, even if he didn’t have time to officially give his own in return.

#geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #warlord au #the witcher #warlord jaskier #tldr: jaskier becomes a warlord and geralt is tribute

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ellana-ravenwood · 5 years

Text

“Can you be my dad’s girlfriend, please ?” - Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader (x Batkids)

I was just thinking about the kids’ experience in school, being both part of the Wayne family and everything it brings AND a vigilante...and this story just came to be. I hope you will like it :

Fair warning : this is very long. I hope you will not find it boring. The subject interested me, and I wanted to write a slow burn story for ages. And here we are.

My master list : @ella-ravenwood-archives

__________________________________________________

******

DICK.

"Are you sure about this, Dick ?"

"Yeah, I am.”

The boy looked sure of himself alright, but Bruce couldn’t help and be a little worried, faced with the building’s decrepitude, and the general state of the neighborhood. Of course, he himself would never care about that, but this didn’t concern him per se.

It wasn’t about his safety, but Dick’s.

Bruce Wayne could wish to change Gotham all he wanted, do everything in his power to make living in this city better, and hope for progress...He wasn’t an idiot.

He knew his work just started, and that most of the city was still very much unsafe. And Dick went through so much already...

Was enrolling him in this school the right choice ?

“You know, Gotham Academy is currently the best rated school in the city ? And it’s closer to the Manor, not by much, but still...It’s also closer from Wayne Tower, just in case.”

Dick frowned, and Bruce could see that he was going to say something before he could truly think about it. His little ward was very impulsive, at times. And sure enough, Bruce was right, as Dick turned to him and started vehemently :

"It's full of phonies and not payed enough frustrated teachers who are mean to kids because they were born rich ! I mean, some of those kids totally deserve it, being phonies and all, but there’s many that are just normal nice kids with rich parents ! I can’t learn with a teacher who hates teaching. And the phonies are getting to me now, mocking me because I was in the circus...And it’s harder to fit in when you go home and are not in the boarding school part ? Most of them are in boarding school, and were jealous I could go home. And I don't care about the "prestige" everyone was always talking about. I don’t go to school to appear better than I am, I go there to learn !”

There’s a short silence, during which Bruce feels a pang of guilt in his heart.

Other kids were mocking him ? The teachers weren’t nice ? Why did Dick wait three months into the school year to tell him he wasn’t feeling well in that environment ? Was he not feeling comfortable enough around him yet ? It has only been six months since he started to live with him, after all..

Bruce tried his best to make him feel at home at the Manor, but it proved, at times, to be more difficult than anything he ever did in his life.

And this was coming from a man who went to train all over the world for years, enduring impossible trials after impossible trials. None of his training though, prepared him to raise a kid. Thanks god Alfred was always there to help him out when he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do.

And the more he thought of it, the more Bruce realized that putting Dick in the fanciest school of the City might not have been the best move...

“Do-Do you um, care about the prestige ?"

Dick asks, breaking the silence, looking up at Bruce shyly.

It was clear in the little boy’s eyes, he was very worried about what Bruce was thinking right now. And that the short silence after his passionate diatribe made him nervous. Because...Maybe Bruce would disagree with him ?

Maybe knowing the reason Dick wanted to change from private school to a "normal" public school in would make him angry ? Offend him ?

After all, Gotham Academy was very much like the school Bruce went to as a youngster (said school blew up a few years prior after an “accidental” gaz leak).

Looking at the boy’s almost panicked face, Bruce reassured him quickly :

"Of course not chum. I want you to be happy and feel comfortable in whatever school you choose. If you want to go to this one, then you're going to this one. I was just making sure everything was truly ok with you."

"Well it is ! I have friends here, people that came to-to the circus, you know ? Kids I met during intermissions and all that. Back in the other school, people, and not just the kids, the teachers too, made fun of me because I was in a circus ! Always talking about how I probably was uneducated and all. Bruce, They kept saying I was a clown when I was an acrobat !"

Once again, Bruce felt his heart tightening in guilt and sadness. Three months. The kid waited THREE MONTHS, enduring mockeries and not feeling well, before saying something ! And he only said said something after Bruce kinda forced him to talk about his feelings...

Which had been a very laborious process. Dick was a stubborn child, and Bruce wasn’t really the best person when it came to the concept of “opening up”. Eventually though, he finally got an answer out of the kid.

It wasn’t going well at school, which is why he was being angrier and angrier, and lashed out even more often than when his...The subject of parents was sort of taboo, right now.

Nonetheless, Bruce observed a clear improvement in Dick’s mood and behavior over the Summer. Being with him made the boy more cheerful, and like his entire world still had some sense. Like he wasn’t all alone. When Bruce thought back to his own childhood, and the months after his parents’ death, he truly realized how much Alfred helped him go through everything.

And he wanted to be that person for Dick. It succeeded, as the boy opened up more and more, and was starting to smile again. Be snarky and sassy, too, which Bruce could definitely do without (or not).

When school started however, he went back to a morose like attitude and it didn’t take a genius to understand something must be up..

And here they were, in front of a completely normal school in the Otisburg District, Uptown Gotham. Not the worst neighborhood, most definitely not the best.

Dick said he knew people that went to this school, and that’s why he chose it. And today was his first day. Even though he was a rather extroverted child, Bruce could tell he was nervous.

Made sense, it’s not easy, being the “new kid”.

Laying his hands on the boy’s shoulders, Bruce gave them a light squeeze he hoped felt reassuring, and said :

“Well, buddy. Should we go in ?”

************

This was one of the most stressful day of your life.

No. Second most stressful day. The worst one was most definitely about a week after you graduated college, all cheerful and happy about the prospect to start teaching ! You were riddled with enthusiasm and willingness to change the World, give kids a chance annnnnnnd...realized that day finding a teacher’s position where you wanted was difficult.

Because of sentimental reasons, you did not want to leave Gotham. This city had been your home all your life, and you just couldn’t envision yourself teaching anywhere else.

The city was big, but there wasn’t that many schools, in the end. Or at least, not enough teacher jobs available. None at all, in fact. Well, in the schools you wanted to work at.

There was work in the few private schools all around the city, but you didn’t want to be a teacher in such a place.

You grew up in a bad neighborhood of Gotham (which wasn’t telling much, since most neighborhood in Gotham were “bad” at the time), and you were certain that it was only thanks to the best sixth grade teacher you’ve ever had that you didn’t turn bad.

Out there, in the street of GC, it was so easy for kids from disadvantages families to fall into petty crimes. There wasn’t really a lot of prospect for those kids, with no money to continue their studies and nowhere to really go.

Eventually, a lot of petty crimes turn into organize crimes and...Well, you were sure that one of Gotham’s root problem was their bad public schools.

You swore to yourself that when you’d become an actual teacher and have your own class, you’d advocate a lot to the city council to have a bigger budget, and give a real chance to kids from the lower neighborhoods !

But right now, after three months of not being able to find any steady work in the area you wanted (only short subbing times), and almost accepting a position at Gotham Academy...You finally found a job (well, at least you think you did) and were waiting nervously in front of the principal’s office for him to give you a class !

You didn’t know yet which one you’d get, and it made you extremely nervous ! The entire ordeal was settled really fast, and just enhanced your stress because you had barely any time to prepare. And since you didn’t know which class you’d have, you prepared for any grade you could have in an elementary school (because yes, you were an elementary school teacher. You were sure that trying to lead kids the right way had to start from an early age, as so many of them, in Gotham, just quit school before the age of 15...).

The day before today, you received a call from a panicked principal in the Otisburg district, talking about one of his main teacher quitting after she got mugged for the 7th time that month (it was particularly hard for her because she was originally from Metropolis, so not used to all this violence...), and he was in desperate need to find someone to fill her spot ! The principal’s words particularly resonated within you, since she was saying that those kids, given their circumstances, couldn’t afford to miss a few days of school.

It could have terrible consequences. Which is why she called you (you remember perfectly well that principal, and couldn’t help, when she hung up the phone, to feel utterly giddy because...she was running one of the school you wanted to go the most to !).

But then you realized she didn’t tell you which class the quitting teacher had, or if the spot would be “regular” of if it was yet another subbing time for you...

And here you were, waiting in front of her door, stressing the hell out. And oh my god WHY did you came an hour earlier ?! It just enhanced your stress.

Next to you, there was a trash can full of the espresso you got from the machine in the empty teachers’ room. All this caffeine running through your blood system surely didn’t help you relax.

You were about to take yet another walk around the school to try and release some tension when...

**********

“Can we get ramen for dinner ?”

“I’m not against it chum, but I believe we’ll hurt Alfred’s feelings if we come back for the fourth night in a row with take away.”

“Oh. Right. Then maybe he can make ramen ?”

“I’m sure he’d learn for you.”

“Can you call him so he’ll do it for tonight ? I really want ramen. I miss it..”

“Dick, we ate ramen the past four nights.”

“But it’s so good ! Pleaaaaaase Bruce please please please ask hiiiiiim ?!”

“Alright alright alright. I’ll call him after the meeting ok ?”

“YES !”

Half-standing half-sitting, as you were about to leave for yet another walk, you noticed two persons coming your way, and caught a little part of their conversation.

A man and a boy, probably his son. The little one was jumping up in the air, fist bumping the nothingness, clearly happy about the prospect to eat “ramen”. As they both came closer to you, you realized that...

“Ah, mister Wayne ! I see you’re here too, Miss (Y/L/N), good good. Perfect timing.”

You jump in the air, surprised by the sudden appearance of the principal. Was she a ninja or something, to open her door so stealthily and just appear out of thin air ?!

The thought made you smile, because honestly, in Gotham City ? It was a possibility that the principal of this little school was an assassin of some sort...You stopped your mind from inventing stories about a famous ninja acting as an elderly school principal as a cover, and being one of the most prolific hitman of Gotham at night, and turned to her.

Why was it, that your imagination always ran the wildest at the worst moments ? Right now, you were about to have your first briefing at your first teacher job ever, in the company of the famous Bruce Wayne, and you were thinking about ninjas and whatnot ! WHY ?!

You smile awkwardly at her, and walk into her office, wondering now why a man like Bruce Wayne was here.

According to TV and diverse newspaper, he was a few years older than you, and after everyone thought he died long ago, came back out of nowhere to take his place back in the city’s life just a few months ago.

Why was he here ?

Wasn’t he supposed to be a billionaire who was gonna “turn Gotham around” ? A rush of excitement suddenly filled you. Was he-Was he getting interested in helping schools out ?!

************

That little boy who was with Bruce Wayne, it was “Richard Grayson”. You read his story in the paper, what terrible tragedy...Made worst by the fact it was the only news going around in Gotham for quite a while.

Turned out though, the papers and other media missed one hell of a headline... Their beloved Bruce Wayne adopted the kid ! And no one talked about it ! Your guts were telling you that the reason why this was kept a secret was the man himself. You didn’t know him, but he most definitely seemed like the kind of person who would make sure no further stories about a poor defenseless little boy would surface all around the city.

“So as I was saying, perfect timing ! I thought, mister Wayne, a man of your stature might want to meet your son’s teacher first ? Well here she is ! Miss (Y/N/L) ! She’s starting at our school today too, and will teach the third graders.”

Bruce cleared his throat, and looked at you worriedly. Wow, rude. You didn’t quite know why, but your guts were telling you again this Bruce guy wasn’t very convinced about you right now.

“Um, how old is miss (Y/N/L) ?”

You raise an eyebrow, and answer before the principal can :

“Miss (Y/N/L) is 23, almost 24. Why, is that a problem ?”

“Um, no no. I mean...Maybe. I was under the impression Dick was going to be in the class of someone who had a lot of experience being a teacher ?”

WOW ! RUDE ! You turned an outraged face to him, and he avoids your eyes. The little one though, “Dick”, looks at you apologetically and elbows his gardian in the ribs.

“Can I ask you something mister Wayne ? Do people tell you the same thing when they realize you’re about my age and are raising a child right now ?”

Bruce turns to you, and...Oh you hit the bullseye.

“I think I have every right to ask about your experience, as I’m about to leave my child in your care.” He says coldly, and oh you just want to punch him. You knew he got the analogy, and maybe you were a bit out of line but come on, he was too.

You were about to answer something, and was ready to get fired before you even started school as you knew you were going to put the richest man in Gotham back to his place, when the principal said :

“I can assure you miss (Y/L/N) is the person we need ! When she came to leave her curriculum vitae a few months ago, I just had hired Miss Hick, who quit. Poor woman, she was from Metropolis, you know ?”

Both you and Bruce nod knowingly. The principal continues :

“In any case, I almost regretted that I hired Miss Hick when I saw miss (Y/L/N). Let me tell you mister Wayne, I can assure you that she’s really the person this school needs ! She came out top of her class from school, and clearly has the passion to teach ! She might not have a lot of experience yet, but I think both the kids and her can grow a lot because of this. I’m a very gutsy person you know ? I can have a “feel” of people, know what they’re worth...It’s the part of me that was raised in the Bowery, you know ? Well in any case, from all the things I know about her, and the many letters of recommendations I had from schools where she had internships or subbed, she’s the perfect person for the job. And you, mister Wayne, I feel like you’re a reasonable man...Give her a chance, will you ?”

************

Well, this was interesting.

Sure, your first impression of Bruce Wayne wasn’t very good, but you had to admit that the way he seemed worry about his ward kinda warmed your heart.

It wasn’t very nice, to be questioned about your ability because you were young. But you could understand where he was coming from. And you kinda started to feel guilty about lashing out, and talking about his own legitimacy to raise a child.

Since when was hurting someone because they hurt you the right solution ? You knew better...

“I’m sorry.”

Oh ? Haha. You both talk at the same time, as you close the door to the principal’s office, raising your heads to look at each others.

You were both clearly feeling ashamed, and were looking down at the floor, when you decided to apologize. At the same time. And so you both start to laugh. Under the gaze of little Dick, who is most likely thinking : “What the Hell ? Adults are so weird.”, given his confused expression.

“I’m very sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude or anything. It’s very unlike me, I assure you. It’s just, I want Dick to...Be alright.”

He says, smiling shyly at you. And you can’t help but thinks this is probably not a look people are used to see on Bruce Wayne’s face.

“No no no, I’m the one who is sorry. Your concern was totally receivable, and I didn’t really help my case by being an as-um, very immature right afterward.”

“Well, let’s start all over, alright ? I’m Bruce Wayne. And this is my ward, Dick. He’s going to be your student this year.”

“I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N), I’m um...Going to be your ward’s teacher.”

“Well, a pleasure to meet you miss (Y/N/L). I’m sure we’ll see a lot of each others, in this coming years.”

He tells you with a charming smile. And you try to pack in your brain all the rumors about him being a womanizer, to try and take away how attractive he is. How handsome, sure. But also how his voice is deep and soft to the ear, and how he genuinely seemed to care about his kid in that short meeting...You almost forget his rudeness. Well. He did apologize.

“Pleasure to meet you too, and I’m sure we will.”

Bruce shook your hand, and crouched down to be at Dick’s eye level. He put a hand on his head and said :

“Well chum, see you tonight ?”

“Yup !”

There’s a short silence, and you can see Bruce wants to say more but is searching for his words. Finally, he says :

“Are you going to be ok ?”

The boy smiles widely, and nods enthusiastically. Bruce gives him a worried smile, and after ruffling his hair stands up, and leaves. But not without turning around one last time, as he’s about to disappear at the corner of the corridor, and waving at his boy. Dick waves back, and puts his thumbs up.

Everything was going to be ok !

************

Nothing was going to be ok !

What was Dick doing ? He should’ve said to Bruce he was really scared and worried about starting everything over in this new school ! He was pretty sure that if he had, Bruce would’ve taken him with him to work, and give him time to not be afraid anymore.

Bruce was like that. Always caring about his feelings first. He would probably homeschool him if he wanted...but that’s not what Dick wanted. Although he was thinking about it right now.

He did want to go to a normal school. And see the friends he made while in the circus. And have good teachers (this miss (Y/N/L) sounded great). But it was still scary ?

Dick could act as if he was confident and outgoing all he wanted, he was still an eight (almost nine) year old boy who was about to be thrown into an unknown environment. Not very reassuring. He was thinking...

“I’m nervous too, you know.”

“Huh ?”

“This is the first class i’m going to teach as an actual teacher, and not just a substitue teacher. It’s very nerve wracking. I’m also about to meet a whole lot of new people, that’s always a bit scary, right ?”

“Right.”

The boy answers, feeling his nervousness slowly fading away, as you smile at him reassuringly. It kind of reminds him of how Bruce would talk about his own problems to relate to his, which always helped him understand things more.

It helped him greatly, when he thought about his parents, and Bruce told him about his...

“Let’s make a deal. If I feel like I’m going to freak out, I’ll say “banana”, and you’ll make a diversion so I can escape ok ? And if you feel like you’re about to freak out, ask me if you can have some bananas and I’ll make something up so you can go in the corridor to regain some countenance ok ?”

“...Bananas ?”

“Ok, ok banana maybe isn’t the right word. What about...”

Oh god, the kid was most definitely thinking you were crazy, right ? You were trying to find a way to actually make him feel comfortable, and tell him it was ok if today become too overwhelming and he needed to take a break from all this novelty. Oh geez if you couldn’t make one child feel ok, could you even hold a full classroom ?!

“What about saying we need to go to the bathroom ? Everyone needs to go to the bathroom at one point.”

“Oh, brilliant idea Dick ! So, if we both feel like things are too much, our escape plan will be the bathroom...ok ?”

“Ok !”

The boy answers excitedly, and you feel a sudden wave of relief. Ok. Good. Mission accomplished. He was clearly not feeling as nervous anymore. And you ? Well, this little victory calmed you down quite a bit as well.

Still though, as you pushed the door to your classroom and was met with all your new students, you felt like saying you needed to go to the bathroom right away...

************

When Dick came home that night, he wore the widest smile Bruce saw him wear for a long time. And oh, oh he was so excited to talk about what he did that day.

************

“Miss (Y/L/N), Miss (Y/L/N) !”

Dick calls you across the corridor, as the rest of the children exit the school to go home. It’s the end of today’s lessons, and you’re exhausted. You can’t wait to go home, but you never really mind doing some extra hours to answer a kid’s question.

Especially when said kid is Dick Grayson.

Of course, you’re not playing favorites in your class, oh no no no you would never...But you liked that kid.

Dick walks to you, and waits a few minutes for the corridor to empty out. And then he looks up at you, and as if it was the most evident question in the World, he says :

“Can you be my dad’s girlfriend ?”

For the first time in ages, you can feel your face growing hotter, all the way up to your ears. You spit the coffee you were drinking, and you turn to the little boy who just asked you the cutest question ever, that also made you highly uncomfortable.

“Um uh I um uh...What ?”

You totally blank. You. The person who spend her entire days answering kids’ questions, no matter how weird and kinda useless. And here you were. Completely unable to say anything.

“Can you be my dad’s girlfriend ?”

There another short pause, where you just stare at the boy and he stares back, not flinching one bit. And then there’s a sudden light in his eyes, as if he just understood something, and adds :

“Please ?”

And it kind of melts your heart, how he thinks you weren’t answering because he wasn’t being polite. Trying to choose your words carefully, you say :

“What brought this up ?”

You knew that asking their thought process first, could help you greatly understand a child.

“Well, you’re great and pretty and nice and the best teacher I ever had and he needs to be taken care of. You take great care of us !”

“Dick, your dad isn’t a child anymore..”

You smile at all the compliments the boy gave you. How sweet and innocent. You also smile at him calling Bruce his “dad”.

As the school year unfolded, you saw a shift in Dick’s behavior. A good shift. He opened up more and more, and it was obvious he was slowly finding a new family again, without forgetting the one he lost.

You actually thought Bruce’s approach to tell him he could call him whatever he wanted, and that Dick’s parents would probably just want for him to be happy, and would be happy themselves he wasn’t alone...Was very cute.

You talked about it with him in a parent/teacher meeting. Of course, you had said meeting with all “your” kids’ parents. Not just Bruce. Um.

“I know he isn’t ! Though believe me he acts like one sometimes. But I’m saying that because...I think he’s lonely ? And sad ? Sometimes it feels like he’s just not with us you know ? I don’t know how to explain it, I don’t have the words to...”

Oh but you see exactly what Dick means. You noticed it too. Sometimes, Bruce, when he thought no one was looking, had this melancholic look in his eyes, as if lost in his own dark world indeed.

Not that you saw Bruce THAT often. I mean, just like you saw the other students’ parents really. After all, the school this year really worked on involving the parents more. You and the principal really had the same ideas, and you thought that getting the parents right into the student’s school life was vital for a good development.

“Dick, you know you can’t just become someone’s girlfriend like that ?”

“Sure you can ! I asked Rose McDowell yesterday if she’d be my girlfriend, and she said yes ! It’s simple, you have to ask and then you’re in love.”

You smile at how sweet this child simplified vision of love is, and say :

“Adults are complicated, Dick. We can’t just fall in love by asking someone if they want to be our girlfriend or boyfriend. We have to go on dates, and know each others, and such things ?”

“But miss, you know my dad. If you’re not sure about something, ask me ! I know everything about him, and if I don’t, then Alfred must know !”

Again, you smile at how easy that little boy seems to find solutions to any problems. And oh you wished it was that simple.

“This isn’t how it works, Dick. You have to have feelings for each others, too.”

“Well, I know he likes you !”

You feel your heart jump in your chest, and a rush of excitement...Until you realize. “Simplified answers and solutions”. And thinking he loves little Rose. Dick clearly does not know what “likes” truly mean, and might mix up friendship feelings with love.

After all, it was true you and Bruce got along. Strictly in a...teacher/parent kind of relationship of course. Let’s just say Bruce Wayne agreed with your kind of teaching. Not every parents saw eye to eye with your “fun” methods and such.

So in the eye of a kid, agreeing with each others might seem like this “like” feeling. But really, there was NO way a man like Bruce Wayne would be interested in someone like you.

You saw the models he dated at charity balls and other galas. It never lasted long, and he had much less flings since he officially adopted Dick, but you still saw how they looked and such. Why, when he had such options, would he go for a plain elementary teacher like you ?

“Dick, I don’t think he likes me in the way boyfriends like their girlfriends, do you understand what I mean ?”

“There’s more than one way to like a person !?”

The boy seemed blown away by that, and you can’t help but smile once again his innocence :

“Of course there is. You don’t like Bruce the same way you like Rose, right ? Or your friend Harry ?”

Quick connections seem to be made in his little head, and he nods slowly. But oh horror, his shoulders flop down dejectedly, and he looks sad now. You don’t have time to try and find a way to make him understand everything is alright as he says :

“So you don’t like him ? I mean, like like him ?”

Smart boy. He understood fast that there were indeed a difference between love and friendship. Or at least, he understood the concept of it. You smile and you say :

“No buddy, no I don’t like like him.”

It’s a blatant lie, but sometimes, for a child’s own good, a lie is the best solution.

Because even if by some miracle Bruce Wayne “liked liked” you, he was still one of your student’s parent. When you were in college, one of your teacher hammered in your head that it was highly unethical to date a student’s parent, and this principle just stuck in there.

No. No way. You could never date Bruce Wayne. Because even if he liked you back (back ?) the fact was, he’d forever be one of your student’s parent, even the day Dick would go to the next grade...

************

Dick moves on to the fourth grade, and it’s quite painful to let go of this very first class you’ve ever taught. Those kids that help you grow as a teacher, as you lead them on the path of knowledge.

For an entire year, you all learned from each others, and it’s with a heavy heart you see those children moving on to the next class, as you welcome new kids yourself.

Wow. You didn’t think it would be that hard. But it really is. Even more so because you know, no matter the impact you had on those kids’ life, they’re bound to forget you one day...It was a sad thought, but one you wrongfully thought would be true.

Actual truth was, you shaped a lot of those children’s lives and they’d forever be grateful that you never gave up on them.

And as a new year starts, and your class is full of unfamiliar faces, you have to face the fact that this is what being a teacher is.

************

For the next few years, you don’t really see him. Briefly in the school’s corridor as he goes to a parent/teacher meeting or something of the like. Or in the principal’s office, after he made yet another large donation for the school (since his son enrolled in a “normal” school, Bruce got very involved in the education system in Gotham and donated a lot of money to a lot of schools in rough neighborhoods, unknowingly accomplishing your lifelong dream).

But you don’t see him as much as when Dick was in your class.

Which makes sense...Why would you keep seeing Bruce Wayne ?

You saw him often because you were the kind of teacher to involve the parent a lot. You saw him when Dick decided to make an expose on him, and dragged him in his classroom (it was very funny to see the famed Bruce Wayne awkwardly standing in front of a bunch of kids). You saw him when you had to talk about Dick’s progress or problems. You...Well, you saw him like every other parent. Nothing special was going on.

And now, as you don’t have his kid as a student anymore, of course you see him less.

But sometimes, sometimes when you finish work and walk back to your car, he waves at you from his own car (he always made sure to pick his son up) and smiles, and honestly...It’s enough for you.

************

This sort of non-relationship goes on for a very long time. Where you quickly see each others in hallways, waving at each others in the parking lot, and catching up with quick conversations that are always the same :

“Hello Mister Wayne.”

“Hello Miss (Y/L/N).”

“How are you today ?”

“Fantastic, and you ?”

“Great. Well, I have to go to my class.”

“Yes, I have to go to. It was nice seeing you.”

“You too.”

Hundreds and hundreds of short conversations, that started to mean a lot to you, even more so since Dick was almost going to graduate primary school and..Oh god.

You had a crush on Bruce Wayne.

Then again, in Gotham city, with how much he appeared on TV and such, a lot of people had a crush on Bruce Wayne.

But you…well, he was handsome, nice, funny, but most of all, he cared so much about this little boy he adopted, that…how could you resist really ? You rationalized everything by thinking that you liked him so much only because of how much he cared for Dick (who wasn’t even your student anymore !).

Of course. People caring about "your" kids, about their education and all, always kinda made you melt. Even more so when they were single parent !

Yes. Yes you didn't really liked Bruce Wayne. You didn't really have a crush on him. You just…Admired how well he took care of that kid that suddenly appeared in his life. Hell, he seemed to take care of him better than the parents who had their own children since birth…It was something.

Of course, you were sure their "butler", Alfred Pennyworth, that you met a few times, was for something in all this. Still. It was very sweet. And impressive. And all those feelings gave you the impression you had a crush on him...but you really don’t, right ?

No. No you don’t. Oh, but here he comes, you know he has a meeting with Dick’s 6th grade teacher and...

“Hello, Miss (Y/N/L).”

“Hello, Mister Wayne.”

The same conversation.

Over and over again.

And it always ends on large smiles being exchanged, and a short pause, as if neither of you truly want to leave...

************

Dick graduated sixth grade and you stopped seeing Bruce Wayne.

It made you oddly sad, but then again...That’s how life went, right ? It was time to move on from your silly crush that lasted those past three years.

************

JASON.

Another year passes, and you’re slowly getting over Bruce Wayne. Your heart doesn’t beat as fast when you see him on TV, and you started to date men there and there, when you felt like you wanted to be with someone.

After his graduation, you didn’t see Dick again, which confirmed your theory that no matter the impact you had on a child, when they moved on...They moved on.

The truth was, Dick never forgot you, and wish he would have had the time to go back to his old school. But middle school was harder and more demanding than elementary school, and with his nightly activities...

But he never forgot the first teacher he had that made him feel like he could do anything. And that was always understanding, and adapted her way of teaching for every single kids in the class.

But that, you did not know. And you thought you had moved on, too. Until you saw him again. At the exact same place you met. In front of the principal office.

“Mister Wayne ?!”

“Miss (Y/L/N) !”

He says with a warm smile, his hands on the shoulders of a little boy that couldn’t be older than ten or eleven. And you understand that he adopted again, and realize that yup, you still have a crush on Bruce Wayne.

************

After Dick's debacle at Gotham Academy, how much he hated it and such…Bruce figured that with Jason, he'd just let him choose.

So he went and took brochures from each school, and brought them back to the Manor for Jason to take a look at. Alfred had a little tear at the corner of his eye, when he witnessed his master going all around Gotham just to pick up infos on every single school so his kid could choose…

It was particularly refreshing that since Young Master Dick left, Bruce felt lonely.

Even more so given the conditions they parted at the time…ah but that was another story, and the butler had no doubt in his mind that Dick would come around, forgive his father and vice versa. After all, young Master Dick was a teenager now (not since very long), he had to rebel at some point, and it did some good to Bruce to have someone disagreeing with his methods and making him reconsider things…But again, that was another story.

For now, everything was about Bruce going well out of his way to make sure Jason would be comfortable.

"You can go wherever you want."

"Really ?"

"Yes, you're the boss. Choose where you want to go."

Jason's face brightened, and Bruce couldn't help but smile at him.

That little boy clearly had so few choices in his life…Oh god, Bruce hoped that suddenly having so many choices wouldn't overwhelm him !

But the boy was carefully studying brochures one by one, putting them away in three different piles. Bruce wondered for a second why, when the kid looked at him and understood his silent question :

"This pile is for the "big no no never", this one is for the "maybe", and this one is for "good ones""

Ah. Made sense. Organized little feller.

This went on for a few minutes until he picked up one brochure and exclaimed :

"Hey that's my old school !"

Bruce turned to look at what school Jason was pointing to. Oh.

Oh.

Wow.

It was Dick's old school, too.

The one in a not so nice neighborhood that he wanted to go to because friends he made while at the circus went there. And it used to be Jason's ? Well. It made sense. Also, fate had funny ways sometimes.

“And do you want to go back there ?”

“Well I only went one year there, but I think I still know people who are still there...It might be nice, to already know a few people ?”

“So this one ?”

“I think so, yes. This one. I have a good feeling about it !”

Bruce smiled, and...Did that mean he would see you again ?

************

“This is my son, Jason.”

He says proudly, hands holding reassuringly the boy’s shoulders.

Oh yes, yes you vaguely remember reading an article about how Bruce Wayne adopted a new kid, after his older son went away in boarding school (which always made you feel odd, Dick didn’t sound like the boarding school type of kid ? Ah, but he must’ve been about 14 or 15 now, right ? Maybe his teen years weren’t going as smoothly as his childhood...).

Wondering if you should ask how Dick is, or if it was maybe too personal given the circumstances, you turn to look at Jason and...

"Hey I remember you. You used to come to this school right ? In a few class below the one I teach currently, and then one day you disappeared !"

"You-You remember me ?"

"I always notice children that seem a little-"

"Odd ?"

"No, not odd. Sad. It was obvious something didn't go well in your household. I’ve been teaching long enough to...notice you guys. When you disappeared I asked you teacher and she told me you turned bad. There was no infos on where you lived so I couldn't go and see…I'm very glad you, in fact, turned the opposite of bad !"

"You…would've try to find me ?"

"Of course ! "Turning bad" is something too easily accepted in Gotham ! If you don't give up on a child, who might not have an ideal family environment, then they have a better chance ! Of course it doesn't always work, I did have a lot of failure…but a few hold on, and those few matters !"

Jason’s mind was blown away. He stopped going to school when his mom overdosed...He was 8, and suddenly had to fend off for himself, as no one cared to know what happened to the “son of that junkie on the third floor”.

He survived as he could, by committing petty crimes and dangerous stunts. Until Bruce found him (or rather, until Jason stole the Batmobile’s tires and got caught).

And here he was, having a home again for the first time in ever, and faced with a woman that genuinely was concerned about him, but didn’t have the means to help.

And what would’ve happened if she had ? Well, Jason was glad she didn’t. She seemed nice, but he wouldn’t trade his new dad for the world.

Bruce was his hero. And he loved him dearly. Why would he want any other parent now ? He had one that, in his eyes, was perfect for him.

“So, you know him ?”

Bruce was looking at you with eyes full of interests. The little speech you made about going out of your way to make sure every kids you encountered was ok...moved him. It stirred something in his heart. Something good.

Something that felt nice.

“Well, not per se. But I saw him around, like I said. It’s very nice to properly meet you, Jason.”

“Likewise, Miss...”

“(Y/N/L).”

You answer with a smile, and Jason finds himself wishing you’ll be his teacher, for this first year back to school in a while.

“It’s unfortunate that Jason here, is entering fifth grade. He will not have you as a teacher...”

“Fifth grade ? Well what a coincidence. I’ve been teaching that class for the past two years, to break the routine, you know ? There’s a lot to learn in fifth grade, it’s a pivotal year for kids, so I’m glad I was transferred to that class ! And I’m double glad because that mean we’ll see a lot of each others, Jason.”

And you smile at him, making him blush because he’s still not used to people being nice to him like that...

Bruce smiles too, but not for the same reasons. So you’re teaching fifth grade now huh ? Well. That means you’ll see a whole lot of HIM too...

************

Young Jason Todd.

Brilliant child.

Promising. You were sure he would have a very VERY bright future ! It wouldn’t surprise you if he was the one to take on Wayne Enterprise, he was THAT smart. Yes. Bright future in coming for sure (um...).

More studious than Dick was. More attentive, too. Dick could sometimes be the class clown, and get distracted. But Jason ? Jason was listening carefully, drinking your every words, and oh it was so nice to have a student like him in your class ?

Even more so when you knew that he could’ve turned very bad if Bruce didn’t adopt him...Ah damn. This just enhanced exponentially your crush on Bruce.

************

It’s like it’s a redo of when Dick was your student.

Once again, you see a lot of Bruce Wayne (and are comforted that this will go on for at least one year afterward, until Jason graduated). But since his son is your student again, he’s often at the school.

Working with the principal to help financially, and participating greatly in Jason’s school life.

And the crush continued, although you were pretty sure he just saw you as his kid’s teacher...Then again, why would he see you any differently ?

************

“YEAAAAH GO GIANNNNNNTS !!”

Jason screams at the top of his lungs, standing up on his chair in the massive Knightsdome Sporting Complex, watching with attention the baseball match unfolding in front of his eyes.

For his birthday, the boy asked to go to a game with his dad, and here he was, with Bruce...at a game. Not any game. The game of the year !

And he was so excited and hyped, that Bruce didn’t regret one bit taking the day off from Wayne Enterprise to be able to come with him here.

And that’s when he sees you.

You’re a few row down, on the left, and you’re...Talking with a guy.

Who was that guy ?

The dude kisses your cheek and Bruce’s heart tighten. Probably your boyfriend.

Something escaped him though...Why was seeing his kid’s teacher with her boyfriend made him feel so melancholic ? Why did it hurt his heart ?

And then the answer came as easily as Jason screaming in happiness as his favorite team just scored a point...He had a crush on you.

He was pretty sure he had a crush on you ever since he met you, when it was Dick’s first day. And all this year he was your student, and the moments you shared with him...The moments you shared ? What was he saying ?! You didn’t share any moments. You were just his son’s teacher !

It was normal to have meetings and such. And then, it was just courtoisie to say hello after that, when Dick was still in the school. Right ? No matter if he wasn’t as close to any other of Dick’s teachers...If he wasn’t as involved. They weren’t like you and...

This was stupid. You were his kid’s teacher. He couldn’t have a crush on you.

Ah but now you smile, and throw an arm around that guy’s shoulder, looking happy and. It dampens Bruce’s mood greatly. Why ? Why does he feel so blue ? This is suppose to be a great moment with his son, why are his eyes fixed on you and...

“DAD DAD !! DID YOU SEE THAT DAD !!!???? THIS WAS AWESOME !!”

Dad. This is the first time Jason calls him dad. And Bruce focuses back on the boy, lying about having seen “that”, and looking at his son enthusiastically jumping up and down his chair in excitement. Cute boy.

************

“Thanks for those killer seats, sis’.”

“No problem, I’m enjoying it too haha. Happy birthday, dumbass !”

You say, putting your arm around your younger brother’s shoulders, while enjoying seeing the Giants kicking Metropolis’ team’s ass.

Aaaah, you loved baseball.

************

“AH YES GOOO GIANNNNTS.”

Jason was still screaming, holding a stray ball Bruce caught for him above his head in a sign of victory. They were walking up the path to Wayne Manor’s entrance now, but Jason’s excitement still hadn’t gone down.

He was still jumping all around, talking about how cool everything was, and how much he loved the stray ball Bruce caught, and how he hoped he’ll get it signed one day, and how much he loved his new Giants t-shirt, and his new giants cap, and his new Giants baseball pants, and his new Giants shoes, and how he wished he could wear all of it to school and...

“Hey, why don’t you ask miss (Y/N/L) to be your girlfriend ?”

The sudden question takes him by surprise and he stops mid-way up the stairs to the entrance, and stare at his son.

“What ?”

Jason talked so much and so fast, the past hour, that Bruce didn’t catch everything he talked about, and most certainly missed how they arrived on this subject ?

“Why don’t you ask miss (Y/N/L) to be your girlfriend ?”

“That’s...I..You...She...We...I...”

It’s the first time Jason sees his father stutter, and he realizes he must’ve stroke a cord with that question. He smiles slyly and adds :

“Oh you thought about it huh ?”

He got up a few stairs ahead of his dad so he could be at his level, and nudged him with his shoulder knowingly, being absolutely obnoxious.

“What are you talking about ? She’s your teacher, we can’t !”

There’s a short silence, during which Jason loses his smirk that is replaced by a confused expression and, as simple as that, he asks :

“Why ? You like her, no ?”

Yes. Yes he did...But it was more complicated than that. And she apparently had a boyfriend ! Bruce didn’t feel like ruining the day trying to explain his conflicted feelings to his son, and so he said :

“Because she’s your teacher, and that’s that.”

************

Three years after Jason isn’t your student anymore, you hear about his death. In the worst way possible. Through the TV, as you’re preparing dinner.

And it shatters you. You’ve always liked Jason a lot, he was so bright, he was supposed to have a successful future !!

He died during the Joker’s terrorist attack, apparently, along with a few other people. And it was the most tragic day of your life...

You don’t see Bruce for years, after that.

************

After Jason’s death, you vowed your entire life to teaching, even more than before. It became vitale to you, that future generations would make this city better, would give it some sort of sense.

Because in which world was it normal for a 15 years old boy to die because yet another psycho was roaming the streets ?

Jason fuels even more your wish to make this city a more bearable place to live in, and you work more than ever towards this goal, creating the “Jason Todd school foundation”, a name barely in homage to the student who inspired this entire action. In homage of a student who particularly touched your heart, and represented in himself why there was a desperate need to improve the education in Gotham City.

Your non-profit charity works harder than any other, to improve schools in Gotham, and give a better chance to this kids.

One of your biggest donator is a certain Bruce Wayne, but you still don’t see him anymore.

************

TIM.

It’s only when he sees you talking to one of your students, right there, at the end of the hallway, that he realizes how much he missed you.

Two years passed since...Since his life completely changed. Since everything was painted in black again. And yet, yet it feels like it was yesterday he saw your smile.

He heard your voice.

He saw you care for “your” children.

It’s like a small ray of sunshine in his heart, as he finally sees you again. After Jason...After what happened, he felt like he couldn’t face you. Like he couldn’t face one of the only person in the world that cared greatly about that boy.

And so he avoided you. But Destiny brought him back in your path, and as you notice him, and a natural smile spreads across your face...He realizes how much he missed you.

In his hand, he squeezes Tim’s hand a little tighter, and the boy looks up at his dad curiously. What got into him ?

The other small ray of sunshine in his dark and dry heart, his new son, is about to asks him what’s up, when he sees how his dad is looking at that woman, at the end of the hallway.

Timothy Drake-Wayne has always been the smartest little boy around, and he immediately understands what is going on...

************

"So you can choose chum. Either school. This is Gotham Academy, the "best" one but it really has that reputation because…money. And then that's the one Dick and…Dick went to. He liked it very much, the facilities are not as nice, but the teachers are passionate."

Bruce doesn’t mention Jason, even though Tim is pretty sure Jason too, went to that school. But he knows it’s a delicate subject, so he does not mention it.

"Where did he go ? Why wasn't he in Gotham Academy ?"

"He couldn't get along with people."

"…Dick ? Our Dick ? Not getting along with people ?"

Tim was properly shocked.

"He can get mad very fast, you know ? Remember when you beat him at Smash Bros ?

"Oh yeah…He broke the controller. I just thought it was an occasional thing ! He really likes smash bros"

"It's not that occasional. He can get very angry very fast. And the kids in Gotham Academy weren't very nice to him, so he got angry often. It was also not long after his parents…”

"Oh. I get it…Well, I want to go where Dick went !"

Bruce’s heart tighten at the mere idea to see you again.

Was he ready to face you, after ignoring you for two years ? After Jason stopped being your student, the boy still went to see you, as you really changed his life. He wanted to be a teacher, too, so he often came and observe...Which meant you saw a lot of Bruce too.

And Bruce felt like he owed you an explanation. About how Jason...But he couldn’t. He couldn’t face you. He just couldn’t.

Something in him made him sure that if he would talk to you, he’d break down. He’d tell you everything. Everything.

And he just couldn’t do that.

************

Tim hated school. For the past two years, he got away from not going by falsifying a paper where he forged his parents’ signature saying he was now homeschooled. The truth was, his parents never really paid attention to what he was doing, and since he hated school...

He might as well not go, and do other things of his days. Like discovering who the Batman was !

And he did, he did found out ! Shortly after that, and after stubbornly going to Wayne Manor days after days so Bruce would train him, he lost his parents ...And got adopted by the Batman himself.

It was strange, because Bruce paid a lot of attention to what he was doing. Actually, he was borderline overprotective sometimes...Of course, Tim knew it was because of the Robin-he-wasn’t-allowed-to-talk-about.

Jason Todd. The brother that he’ll never know. Only Dick, talked to him about that (after Jason’s death, Dick came back to the Manor to support Bruce, and enrolled in a high school downtown, where he was a senior). Bruce never mentioned him, but Tim saw him spend hours standing in front of Jason’s old suit, and staring at it...

But that was another story. That nonetheless explained why Bruce was being particularly protective of him (like, he still held his hand when they were walking in the streets and stuffs like that, even though Tim was 9 now !).

In any way, Tim still hated school, and it’s full of “don’t wanna” and dreading the boring hours he’d spend in class learning things he already knew, that he dragged his feet across the corridor to go to his first class.

Dick told him about the teacher, apparently he had him in third grade. Great. A third grade teacher teaching fifth grader. Wow. He would learn sooooo much.

************

This was the first time in his life Tim actually liked school. Sure, you were teaching a lot of things he already knew but the methods you were using, with games and fun things so they’d remember better, was amazing !

It didn’t feel like school, yet as the end of the day drew near, Tim realized he actually learned a lot of things ! WOW ! And for the first time in his life, Tim couldn’t wait for the next day.

You too, couldn’t wait for the next day, as it was going to be the first teacher/student conference, and you’d see your forbidden crush, Bruce Wayne.

************

“So, are you going to take miss (Y/L/N) on a date ?”

“What ?”

Bruce and Tim were in one of the car, driving back home, when Tim just jumped right into it.

“Pleaaase, all this chit chat you guys had was unbearable. You talked so much about nothing.”

“We were talking about your latest test, chum.”

“Right. For the first two seconds. Then you made up excuses to keep talking.”

“Well, you sure have a great imagination. Miss (Y/L/N) said so herself.”

“Oh really dad, we’re really going to go that way ? You’re going to deny it ?”

“Tim, we were just talking about you. That’s it. Just like any parents and teachers.”

“...Riiiiiight.”

Obviously, the boy wasn’t convinced. However, he dropped the subject, too surprised by the fact his father’s face was slowly turning bright red.

************

Cassandra.

“This is my new sister Cass !”

Tim says enthusiastically, smiling widely at you.

“She’s older than me, but she um...isn’t from this country, so never went really to school so that’s why she’s in your class and I’m in sixth grade ! She’s very nice ! She’s coming here because I’m here too ! She wanted to be where I was ! She’s my sister !”

“Cass” looks at you curiously, a bit of shyness in her eyes too, and when you raise a hand to shake hers, she flinches back.

It doesn’t take you long to recognize all the signs of a child that was beaten by her parents, and a rush of anger climbs inside you.

Tim, after he introduced his sister, rushes to his own class, and you’re left with Cass as the rest of your students come in.

She goes from one foot to the other, unsure of what she’s supposed to do in this first day of school, and it’s obvious...it really is, her first day of school.

And already, you think of a plan to make her feel welcome. To make her feel like it’s ok if she doesn’t get everything right away, or if she isn’t at the same level than others.

You quickly realizes she does not speak much, most likely because she wasn’t really taught to. It breaks your heart, and you do everything in your power to adapt your class for her. To give her that extra support.

And in that case, isn’t about having a favorite or not, it’s about being there for kids who need it. It’s your entire life’s work up until now.

Cass incarnates exactly why you became a teacher.

**********

“You. Like her.”

Cass says simply, touching her father’s chest, and then pointing at you, who’s currently helping a few kids finishing last minutes decoration for the school play.

Bruce turns to you, looking longingly at you as you smile to the kids, and help Tim put his hat on properly (he was playing President Lincoln..). Of course, just as he was looking at you, you had to take care of his kids.

His feelings for you were always stronger, when he saw you with one of his children. You’ve always been such a great teacher, caring so much for them.

Of course, you cared about all your students. More often than not, you went out of your way to make sure a kid had enough food, or was treated properly. Went out of your way to go after children who stopped coming to class, dragging them back in.

How could he not like you ?

He turns to Cass now. His only daughter. His sweet, sweet daughter. How could he lie to her ? It is impossible.

And so, for the first time since, years ago at a certain baseball game, he realized he had a crush on you (that might’ve turned into something more now), he says aloud :

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

Cass smiles sadly, because she understands he’ll never act upon his feelings for multiple reasons. And she understands her precious “Miss (Y/N/L)” won’t either...

************

It’s interesting, how your relationship evolved, in almost ten years. From when Dick first became your student, to when Cass left your class for the last time.

Nowadays, you actually became friends, mainly because Bruce became one of the board member of your Charity.

You had to admit this was going beyond a simple teacher/parent relationship (as if it hadn’t been that way for years). But...but you’d never cross a certain line

Neither of you would admit your feelings. You’d simply stare at each others from a far, and look away when the other turned their head toward you.

You started to call each others by your first names, but it just made sense.

You were friends now. Nothing more. Even if Cass wasn’t your student anymore, neither were any of his other kids...Things could still not go further.

That’s simply how things were.

He did not want to drag you in his life, and felt like it was inappropriate to date his kids’ teacher (even if technically you weren’t anymore, you were still “Miss (Y/N/L)” to all of them). And the media would crush you...

As for you, in your head, those kids, even if the oldest one was going on his twenties, were still your students. And you had a strong ethic..

************

DAMIAN.

“I don’t see why I have to go to this...public school, father”

At the word “public”, Damian shivered slightly and Bruce couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Oh, how he wished his boy wouldn’t have inherited his dramatic side...

"Your brothers and sister loved this school."

"Don't call them that please, they're not my-"

"You're my son. They're my children too. You're their brother. End of story."

There’s a short silence, where Damian scoffs. He breaks his stubborn silence, realizing his father wasn’t going to budge, and adds :

“Yes well like I said, they weren’t use to a high standard of living. Mother hired the best private tutors and such. If they’re satisfied with mediocrity then good for them.”

“Well, here’s another reason to go to this school. Detach yourself from this type of life, isn’t that what you want to do ? Plus I think it would do you nicely to be a little more humble.”

“Humble ? My life is anything but humble !”

“Except for the fact that now, you’re going to a normal public school in a not so nice neighborhood in Gotham”

At those words, Damian’s eyes widen. Did his father just...make a joke ? Oh the smirk on his face was undeniable, he just mocked him !

“Hey, I-”

“Bruce ! Ah, and you must be Damian ?”

You say, as you see the both of them. Damian scoffs, and you take the conclusion that yes, it must be him.

Bruce talked to you on the phone about his youngest son, who recently came into his life after...A lot of complications. He didn’t really tell you what happened, but you understood he dated a woman long ago and she had a son, and hid him from him. Which outraged you. But also was none of your business...

In any case, he talked to you about Damian. He had been raised in very high society, and warned you a little about him. But oh, you did not believe a child needed warnings. No matter what, you’d find a way to properly teach that boy. A method that would suit him. Like you did for all of your students (and man did you already had some tough cookies in your classes).

************

Damian looked at his father, and then at you, and how you smiled at each others stupidly. And frowned. You left to ask something to the principal, and Damian turned to his father, saying :

“Mm. Are you sure you put me in this school to teach me how to be humble, or did you just want to see that teacher again ?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, boy.”

But Damian was not stupid, he could clearly see how his father’s eyes were lingering behind you, and how you smiled at him.

It made him sick.

************

You held Damian back at the end of a class, to talk about his latest test.

He had made no mistake, and punctuated the entire thing with personal comments such as : “a baby would know this” and other “I could answer this one in Japanese” (and proceeding to write his entire answer in kanjis) etc etc...Which made you think that obviously, that kid did not want to be here.

And most definitely could jump further into his studies, if he thought this class was much too easy. You had the occasion to see his tests and his attention in class, and it was clear the “high society” from which he came from educated him very very well.

With an unimpressed look, Damian picked his stuffs up and went to your desk. You showed him his test, and said :

“It has come to my attentions, thanks to your very...Smooth comments, that this class is probably not up to your level. I was thinking maybe we could see to have you skip a grade or two. Would that be something you want ?”

He shrugs, still not looking very concern, and you sigh. In three months in your class, Damian hadn’t opened up at all. He was most definitely one tough cookie to crack...You sigh, and say :

“I’ll talk to your father about it.”

“Useless, he won’t accept.”

“Really ? Why ?”

“He thinks I need to learn how to be humble.”

“Ah. And what do you think ?”

“Why would I hide how good I am at things ?”

“Ah but Damian, being humble isn’t about hiding that you’re good, but accepting and knowing there’s always room for improvement.”

You say with a smile, and it...does something to him.

It’s not that your words have a particular impact on him, he heard Alfred or his “siblings” telling this kind of things hundred of times.

But there’s something in your face that makes him flinch. Moves something inside him. It’s like...It’s like you genuinely care.

Damian never really saw anyone looking at him with this expression. Clearly wanting to breach the gap, to make a jump and truly want the best for him.

Of course, his father really tried to bond with him, but they still didn’t get each others at all. And with his siblings ? Tt, he had no siblings. With the others, he always tried to be better (without always succeeding), and it frustrated them. With reasons.

So he never saw that particular smile, that particular expression. A genuine and hopeful smile. Someone not judging him in the least, and ready to give him a chance, even after he spend the last three months being horrible to them...

Damian couldn’t understand why you were looking at him like that. Why you had so much hope for him, why you didn’t give up already, why...Why ?

Why were you smiling at him, while he made all the effort in the world to make you understand he did not want to be here ?

Why ?

He couldn’t understand. He hated not understanding.

And it made him...sick ?

************

Why did it make him sick again ? After a few more months of school, he couldn’t remember the reason.

Classes were...Pleasant to him, when you were teaching them. He found himself wanting to listen. Wanting to participate. Wanting to talk.

You had a way of approaching subjects that made everything fun, that made everyone wanting to learn more.

Why did he dislike you so much at first ? Probably because he wasn’t used to someone genuinely caring about his well-being ? He had been surrounded by fakes and people trying to kill him since his birth, it was difficult to believe there were some good people on Earth.

Bruce, just like how he noticed Cass’ speech improve after a few months in your class, noticed his son opening up more and more.

He was still quite introverted, and sometimes acted like a brat...but he was also just a ten years old boy. He couldn’t be perfect.

There was no doubt in Bruce’s mind that the way Damian slowly changed his mind and changed for the better, came in big part thanks to your class. It also, of course, came from the fact he had amazing children who weren’t about to let Damian get away with treating them as if they weren’t part of the family.

Instead of getting mad at him though, they just involved him more in their lives, wether he wanted to or not (something they most definitely picked up from your class, where you always made sure everyone was included, and had a “non judgement zone” installed). And slowly but surely, he got used to it.

He got used to say they were his brothers and sister. That they were a family. He got used to bicker over siblings stuffs, but not to hate them anymore just because they existed.

He was raised to be like that. Individualist, and taught to crush anyone he deemed a threat. For him, the children his father adopted were a great threat, they could steal his legacy...But slowly, he realized all he had been taught was rotten.

It took time, of course. And patience.

But the fact no one was willing to give up on him made him feel things. For the first time in his life, he felt what that “love” thing was, and what being actually cared for felt like.

A mix of a healthy family environment (and an escape to kick ass at night, and release some frustration), and a good school environment, and slowly but surely, Damian really did improve.

Of course, the change came from him. He was the one wanting to change, wanting to be part of something...But he most definitely had great help along the way.

Everything culminated the day he had to do an expose for his class, and chose Tim as his subject.

Of course, Tim knew nothing about it. Damian had come to see him as his brother, and would often boast to his friends at school how great his siblings were...but he’d never tell them to their face.

Only you knew, how greatly he admired his big brother Tim. He talked a lot about how Tim was only 16 and already managing a lot of things at their father’s enterprise, and he couldn’t help but digress to brag about his other siblings too, who were all very successful.

And no one in his family would ever have known, if it wasn’t for you who called Bruce to tell him about this absolutely beautiful expose Damian did about his siblings...It made you almost tear up. Even more so when he talked about “the brother he never met”, Jason (who was alive at the time, and back in the family, but the public still thought he was dead...however Damian couldn’t help but talk and brag about him too, even if he had to use the past tense. He would realize only later, how insensitive it could be to have done that in front of you, who still hadn’t gotten over his death...).

You told everything to Bruce, and it almost sounded like you talked about your own son. It did all kind of things to Bruce’s heart. Nothing he said alout, though.

************

Damian was going to graduate from elementary school when it happened.

It was the first full blown charity ball you held for your “Jason Todd school foundation”, and...You had no illusion.

If people came to your little event it was because Bruce Wayne was here too.

It had been, nonetheless, a rather pleasant evening. You caught up with Dick, Tim and Cass (and was painfully reminded of Jason’s absence), and what they were doing currently. Tim and Cass were still in high school, and Dick had recently decided to join the police school. Didn’t surprise you much.

Yes. It was a rather pleasant evening.

Except for the fact your heart kept getting stabbed over and over again every time you saw Bruce with his date, a Russian model that was probably one of the most beautiful woman you ever saw.

How could you compete against that ? ...Not that you’d want to compete.

You do your best to avoid them all night long, even though you see him look for you, trying over and over again to come and talk to you.

You just can’t do it. You can’t look at him in the eyes while he has such a gorgeous woman at his arm. And so, not very discreetly, you avoid him like the plague, always finding a way to put people between you and him, or escaping to the ladies’ bathrooms.

Until she corners you.

You were fairly certain she noticed Bruce wanting to talk to you, and had gotten jealous that he therefor paid less attention to her. Oh but if only she knew you and Bruce were just friends...

She’s able to finally talk to you as he went to get some drinks, and before even saying hello or anything, she asks, with a clearly exaggeratted Russian accent (you heard her talk with a barely noticeable accent before) :

“You’re the one who throw all this right ? Good party. Are you alone tonight though ? I thought it was custom for people who organized this kind of things to be accompanied.”

She says, with an infuriating fake smile. And that’s the moment Bruce choses to come back, so you can’t even be snarky or anything. You don’t want Bruce to think anything bad about you, so you say :

“Well, I’m here for the children. So no, I didn’t bring a date. I was too busy trying to appeal to people to invest in our new educative programs.”

The Russian model looks you up and down and say, the condescendence clear in her voice :

“Oh, is that why you’re alone ?”

And here we go, yet another knife in the heart. Reminding you that beyond those impossible feelings you have for Bruce, you also take every hours of your day and use it towards your “educative cause”, virtually having no real social life. And wow. Outch. “Alone”. Touché.

You don’t see Bruce frowning at his “date”, and you awkwardly smile before slipping away, finding an excuse to do so.

“(Y/N) wait I wanted to...”

You hear him say something, but you already jumped in the middle of a bunch of people and joined their conversation, effectively blocking Bruce’s way to you.

You really, really didn’t want to talk to him, even more so if that woman was at his arm.

************

The night comes to an end, and you’re utterly satisfied of it.

You managed (thanks to Bruce mainly), to find founding for all your projects, and had a nice nights full of passionate talk about education and such.

You had the opportunity to hang out with ex-students of yours, that made great things of themselves. Not just Dick, Tim, Cass and Damian. It was kind of a given, they’d do great, mainly because of their father’s fortune (although those kids were geniuses). But kids from the worst neighborhood in Gotham that benefited from all your actions.

You felt very proud, and shed many tears. More than once, you thought about Jason, and how you dedicated all this success to him. How you wished this would lead Gotham on a more peaceful path, and things like what happened to Jason would never happen again.

The wound of his loss was still fresh, and as the evening was coming to an end, and people leaving, you took a little break and went out on the balcony to take a breath of fresh air.

************

It was only ten minutes into your isolating time that he finally found you.

And you were beautiful, there, your elbows on the bannister, looking out at the night lights of Gotham City.

“Great night, huh ?”

You jump a bit in the air, surprised, and turn to him.

No Russian model around, coast clear ?

“Yeah. Yeah it was good. We have enough fundings to rebuild a hundred schools haha. Just with your donation, we could’ve achieved all our project. Thank you, Bruce.”

“Well, it’s for a good cause.”

“Still, many do not think or care about it.”

“You know I agree with you about the importance of good education..”

Yes. Yes you know. You’ve had many passionate conversations about the future of Gotham, and what you wished it would become.

Both of you had the same ideas and ideals. Both of you wanted to see Gotham thriving and peaceful. With happy inhabitants that wouldn’t be afraid anymore.

The Batman helped a lot, for sure, but it was to the people to do the rest. By making the environment everyone was growing in a better place.

And it started...With schools.

Yes. Bruce always agreed with your point of view, and was the first to believe in you.

“You did great, you know. None of this projects would exist without you.”

“I just...gave people ideas. Nothing too big.”

“Nothing too big ? (Y/N), you singlehandedly change Gotham’s entire educative field, making every schools better.”

“Well, I didn’t do it alone.”

You turn to him, and smile.

Sure, maybe you initiated a lot of things. Maybe it’s your own experience and such that molded the entire charity and such. But without Bruce Wayne ? And his wonderful kids ? You’re not sure you would’ve gone too far.

Dick is the one that gave you the self-confidence you needed by having to be strong to help him out, Jason was the one who pushed you to finally take a step forward, Tim and his novel ideas always made you want to improve, Cass and her will to fight and learn inspired you greatly in inventing new methods to help out kids with specific needs, and Damian showed you everyone could change for the better, no matter what.

Wether you liked it or not, the Waynes really had a huge impact on your life.

And as you turned to Bruce, somehow, you saw he was thinking something similar...In his eyes, you could see how grateful he was, and how much you changed and helped his kids.

He smiles.

You smile.

Neither of you want to add anything. Everything goes through your eyes.

Thanksfullness. Gratefulness. Pride. Contentment.

It’s interesting, how for so many years, your fate and theirs was linked, in more ways than you could imagine.

To the point that now, Bruce couldn’t imagine a life without you, and vice versa.

You really were, great friends...

The word hurts, and you look away, unable to hold his gaze.

Friends.

His calloused fingers brush your cheek, you you’re so surprised you turn back to him and...No. No he can’t. You can’t.

You know this look.

And if you’re being honest with yourself, you’ve known for a while.

Which is why you were frustrated with him bringing dates everywhere, him still being kind of a playboy (even though his kids gave him an excuse to tame it down). Frustrated with those feelings too because...

Because both of you knew you shared it.

Both of you knew...Probably since a long time.

Not that you nor him would ever act upon it, because then, it could change everything, and in a very bad way.

Plus, you can’t date a student’s parent. You have a very strict ethic.

And he can’t bring you into his world.

Frustration.

You both know.

But you’ll never do anything about it.

And then...

...

He kisses you.

He kisses you and it’s like those past twelve years of pining for him suddenly fly away. Like you’re 23 again, fresh out of college, about to teach your first class ever, and you see him. About your age. And he has a ward...A son.

You talk for a few minutes, you fight, you apologize, it clicks. And then he leaves, and for a year, you help his son grow. After that, you don’t see him for a while...Until he comes back, with another adoptive son.

Jason. And then Tim. Cassandra. Finally, now, Damian.

All those years walking a parallel line to his, acting as if his kids aren’t your favorite in your class (because “you don’t play favorite, that’d go against my entire work ethic !”). Acting as if you don’t make up a lot of parent/teachers conferences just to see him (because you didn’t really need that much...). Acting as if it didn’t hurt you the most when his kids moved on, and you stopped seeing them...and him.

He kisses you and it’s like you’re 23 again. Acting right away on your feelings. Not being afraid.

Afraid of what ?

He’s one of your student’s father. It’s not ethical. He’s also rich and handsome, so out of your league. And it’s unrationnal, you don’t see him that often.

Afraid of what ?

Rejection. Loneliness. Knowing exactly what you want but never doing anything to achieve it. Regrets. ...

12 years vanish, as he kisses you.

You’re 23 again, and...and...And you can’t do this !

He’s one of your student’s parent ! He’s THE Bruce Wayne !

The sudden bliss you felt as his lips met yours vanishes too, and it’s like a cold bucket of water dumped on your head as you realize...

You can’t do this.

Now, or 12 years ago, it’s the same situation.

You can’t do this.

And so you softly pushes him away...

“I-I...”

It’s more difficult than you think, to say those words. He looks at you curiously, a fiery passion still lingering in his eyes.

“I can’t.”

You say, and the only thing you can do now, is run. Run as fast as you can.

“Fly you fools”, are the words that come to your mind. You have to leave, far, far away. And now, you have to stop talking to you.

Because this all thing is unethical.

You can’t date one of your student’s parent ! Even though none of them are your student anymore...

And Bruce Wayne is so out of your League ! Even though he’s the one who kissed you first...

And this could change everything, after all, he became your best friend, this could ruin everything ! Even though whenever you saw each others with someone else you felt like dying...

And he’ll surely reject you, you’re just you, a simple elementary teacher, and he’s him, THE bruce Wayne ! Even though he always looked at you as if you were much more than a “simple elementary school teacher”.

And...

“Why ?”

He asks. Why ? Why ? Why ? Why can’t you ?

Because of all the reasons you keep listing in your head. Student’s dad. Rejection. Out of league. Too much. Not enough. Regrets. Friendship.

Because...because...Why ?

He knows. Of course he does.

He knows you love him.

And deep down, amongst all the insecurities and fear...You know he loves you.

So, why ?

You can’t escape this. He knows. You know. You both knew for a while, without ever acting upon it. Why ?

Fears.

Stupid ones.

Why ?

As if a divine force was bringing you back to him, you get close to his body again, without even noticing yours moving.

Why not ?

When you think about it, all those years, it’s as if destiny lead you to each others. Bruce Wayne’s children should’ve never end up in a second rate school in a shitty neighborhood...And yet they all did.

An elementary school teacher really was supposed to have such a huge impact on “her” kids ? Well, you did.

Two parallel lines. Always going in the same direction, but never quite meeting.

Until a fateful accidental conjoncture.

Like a good night representing everything you believe in.

Like tonight.

So, why ?

“I can’t.”

You repeat, but you don’t even believe it yourself.

“Why ?”

“Because...Because...”

You can’t remember the reasons anymore. Was it even ever wrong ?

He leaves you time, makes sure you want this. He takes a step back on the balcony, away from the remnant of people.

You follow after him.

Why ?

Because you love him.

And he catches you in his arms...Why ?

Because he loves you.

12 years in the making.

Of obvious signs ignored...Why ?

You don’t even remember anymore. And it doesn’t matter.

Why ?

Because he’s kissing you again.

Now that he’s sure. Now that you’re not running away for...reasons you can’t recall. Now that he’s sure. Now that you’re sure.

It seems silly, that you lost so many years...But then again, it’s only now that you’re finally ready.

Why ?

Because as you both reflected on what you accomplished, and what the other’s place was in your life, you both came to a logic realization :

You were in love.

And so you kiss him back, and it’s like you’re 23 again.

************

“AH ! Finally !”

Tim exclaims, as he points to his father kissing his favorite teacher ever, Miss (Y/L/N)...No, (Y/N). And although he feels rather content that this is happening, he finds it disgusting.

“Oh geez they’re really going at it...”

Damian makes a face, because he also thinks the kiss is gross. However, in his heart, and not about to say it out loud just yet, he was very happy for his father. And for himself, really.

Cass, a smirk on her face, simply said :

“Called it.”

But then Dick, throwing an arm around her shoulder, adds :

“Oh no little sister. No no no. Eight years old me shall forever remain known as the one that “called it” first ! Hahahaha.”

And indeed, it’s only, over twelve years ago now, when little Dick asked if you could be his dad’s girlfriend, that you allowed your feelings to truly burgeoned.

Because as long as his kids were ok with you two being an item, really, who cared about anything else ?

_________________________________________________

WELL !! Here we are. I hope you liked it. Thanks very much for reading, and see you soon with a new story :). Hoping this one wasn’t too bad...

As usual, feedbacks, or comments about what you think of the story in general (good or bad, by the way. But please don’t be just mean, if you did not like something try to say why ? We usually all know why we don’t like a thing, so please if you think of something negatively, try to explain why you did not like it so I can improve next time and not just feel like shit ? Saying something is “bad” and that is it is counterproductive, rude and not very nice...There’s always a way to say things :) ) and reblogs and all are very VERY welcomed.

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gehayi · 4 years

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It's possible that Tom Riddle seduced Merope Gaunt & later on she lied to get him to marry her or more likely she had symptoms of a false pregnancy & believed she was pregnant which led her to tell him she's with child. Given the social pressures of the time he left with her & the 2 likely eloped with Merope becoming pregnant later on but when Tom learned of this it lead him to abandon her anyways. What is your view on what really happened between Merope Gaunt & Tom Riddle Senior?

It’s possible, sure, that Merope could have lied about being pregnant or could have read the symptoms of false pregnancy wrong . But...well, I’ve been to school with rich privileged kids, and I find it more believable that Tom Sr. found the silent adoration of the ugly daughter of the local hermit amusing enough to exploit.

I could see him having a bet with his friends about how far he could push this and for how long. I could even see one of his friends dressing up like a minister and Tom going through a mockery of a marriage both to reassure her and to make fun of her. She thinks that it’s strange, of course, but what does she know about how Muggles do things? And meanwhile, Tom Sr. is looking oh-so-serious and he wants this and he wants her and for once in her life, it seems like she has what matters.

Meanwhile, Tom’s friends are stifling their laughter and trying not to meet each other’s eyes for fear that they’ll lose it.

After the fake marriage--who knows how long?--Tom convinces Merope to come with him to London--in April 1926 at the latest. He drives them there, or they take a train. Either way, he arranges the transportation and pays for a hotel room. Maybe he tells her that this is going to be their honeymoon. Maybe he says that they’re going to set up their own house in London. It doesn’t matter to him, as long as the lie works.

Merope isn’t familiar with Muggle cities, Muggle tech of the 1920s, or Muggle money. (She may not even be fully literate; we know that she never went to school and that her father taught her and her brother nothing.) London is an incomprehensible maze to her. And the hotel room is clean and warm and has soft carpets and pictures on the wall. There’s a box that produces music and stories and news. Lights come on with the touch of a button. And she doesn’t have to cook or clean anything. It’s luxury that she’s never dreamt of.

To quote the very wise Ursula Vernon, “Relief feels like happiness, if you don’t know the difference.”

Tom is pleased that she’s so easily satisfied; he doesn’t have to explain to anyone he knows why he’s with this ugly woman. He pays for clothes for her, but he doesn’t take her anywhere. When he’s bored with Merope, he tells her that he has to go out and then parties with his friends. She doesn’t question him. She doesn’t even consider doing so.

In May 1926, there’s a general strike.

Roads all across Britain become impassible. Buses have to barricade their windows. The strikers derail the train the Flying Scotsman in Northumberland. The government declares martial law. It even sends a warship to Newcastle. The world has turned upside down.

Merope hears about all this on the radio; it’s her main form of entertainment. She starts peppering him with questions. Why is the strike happening? Why is everyone so angry?

Tom is shaking and tense and can scarcely think coherently. How can these creatures, these underlings, rebel against the orderly system he’s been part of since birth? And how can this--this daughter of a mere tramp question him?

He yells at her to shut up. He apologizes afterward, and Merope accepts his apology. But the bloom is off the rose now. She knows now that he can be pointlessly cruel, just like her father and brother.

She tries very hard not to know this.

The general strike ends after nine days. Martial law, however, drags on and on. So do transportation problems. And 1.7 million strikers are now out of work. This is not the bright, fun city Tom wanted to visit.

June arrives. By now Merope’s adoration isn’t as intriguing to Tom, and her pregnancy is starting to show as well. Like many men and boys of privileged backgrounds, Tom thinks of pregnancy as something that only happens if the woman wills it. He is sickened and outraged that Merope has gotten pregnant--to trap him, he’s sure--and he chews her out for this.

Merope, though, was painfully isolated while growing up. She knew only her father and brother. Her father warned her repeatedly not to let a Muggle touch her...but he didn’t provide any clarifying details. She had no mother, no sisters, no female friends. She had no education to speak of. Porn was not conveniently available. And she could not read.

So, faced with Tom’s rage, Merope is at sea, for nothing he says is making sense. She doesn’t know how menstruation, conception and pregnancy work. The world hasn’t bothered to tell her.

Also...partying would have eaten into Tom’s money anyway, but the general strike and its disruption of transportation has made goods like food much more expensive. Though Tom doesn’t want to admit it, his funds are running frighteningly low. He needs the good will of his parents to acquire more cash, and quickly He also needs to square matters with the rich, upper-class, utterly suitable young woman he’s actually going to marry while assuring her that the Merope situation is no fault of his.

Arguments begin breaking out daily, then hourly. Tom starts them, taunting Merope’s wall-eyes and ignorance. She despairs when she hears this--after all, mockery and derision are all she’d ever heard from her father and brother. She loves Tom desperately, but he doesn’t love her.

She doesn’t yell, because she’s been trained since childhood not to. Instead, she begs him frantically, frenziedly not to leave her, because he's the one who knows how to handle this incomprehensible city. But her panic repels Tom, who sees it as clingy manipulation. It’s only London, after all. There’s nothing to fear.

So one day he returns home--without telling Merope. She's escorted out of the hotel room shortly after that. He didn’t stiff her with the bill, but not out of kindness. He simply doesn’t want anything, even a bill, tying him to her.

Merope is now alone and adrift in London. No money. No marketable skills. No transportation beyond her own feet--she has no way of paying for buses or cabs, and she may not even know the Underground exists. And no home. It’s August, maybe September of 1926. A rainy August, a mild September. She’s five or six months along. And winter is coming.

It comes in October, with freezing cold for most of the month and a snowstorm on the 28th.

She’s been living rough for a month or two. The clothes she’d worn earlier that year aren’t warm enough for October, and the cold has begun to gnaw at her bones. She's starving, too, and by now she knows that countless Muggles, all more qualified for any job than she is, are also out of work, thanks to May’s general strike.

She doesn’t ask anyone else for help. She should, but Tom was the only Muggle she ever really knew--and he betrayed her. She can’t bring herself to trust another.

And oh, she doesn’t dare go home. Even if she knew where it was and how to get there, her father would beat her to death for polluting the pure line of Gaunt with a Muggle’s get. And her brother Morfin would join in. Happily.

She begs--for food, mostly, though sometimes people give her money. Sometimes, too, they give her advice--to go to a church or a shelter or some government office. Merope nods and smiles and ignores the advice. She’s not going to trust the Muggle government after this past May, and she won’t shelter with dozens of Muggles. That would be suicide.

November 1926 is one of the wettest on record in the UK. Merope falls ill halfway through the month. She’s starting to have trouble breathing, and she’s tired and achy all the time.

December is filled with bitter, Arctic chill.

Merope has little strength left. She’s not getting enough air, somehow, and she’s constantly shaking with heat or cold, she doesn’t know which. Her vision is blurry, and even when she can obtain food, it’s hard to keep it down.

You’re dying, a voice says deep inside, and she knows the voice is right.

One day, she spots a building with lots of people caring for babies and children. She asks meekly, and someone--whoever tossed her a sixpence? another beggar?--tells her it’s an orphanage. Merope doesn’t know what that is, but she knows her baby would be better off inside the building than outside it.

December 31, 1926 is a mild, sunny day. Merope thinks of it as a good omen...until the pains start.

Merope doesn’t know anything about childbirth; she simply feels as if she’s being ripped apart from the inside out. She screams, not even caring if the Muggles hear.

Somehow, somehow, she manages to limp and crawl to the orphanage. She knocks on the door, which is the bravest thing she’s ever done. But her baby can’t survive a winter on the street. Maybe the Muggles will take care of him if they don’t know his mother was a witch.

She doesn’t even notice that she’s thinking of herself in the past tense.

A woman named Mrs. Cole answers the door and bustles her into a spare bedroom. It’s still unbearably cold, so cold that Merope thinks that her bones will shatter from shaking so hard, but there’s light and color and oh, it reminds her of the hotel room before everything went wrong. And Mrs. Cole is speaking to her in a kind, soothing tone and letting Merope grip her arms when the pains are bad. For the first time since Tom, Merope feels valued. Safe.

Her son is born at a minute to midnight, a scrawny scrap of humanity. Small wonder. Merope’s had little enough to eat for months. He has good strong lungs, though, which pleases her in a dim way. The world seems to be fading away, but that’s all right. She just wants to sleep.

She hears Mrs. Cole asking her something. Not her name--she told Mrs. Cole that before. Oh! The baby’s name.

There’s only one name she could give him--the one Muggle name that means anything to her.

“Tom,” she murmurs. “Tom...Riddle...Jun--”

And a soothing darkness claims her.

#mrardin85 #ficlet #merope gaunt #merope/tom sr #harry potter #complete disaster

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mostlysignssomeportents · 4 years

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The madness of elite varsity sports

When I think of the last 40 years of neoliberalism, I think of a game of musical chairs, in which the music's tempo steadily increases, the number of chairs rapidly decreases, and the penalties for not having a chair become more ever-more cruel. Movements for racial, gender and gender identity justice are a source of panic for the most precarious chair-chasers, because these movements increase the number of people who get to compete for chairs - but don't increase the number of chairs in play. The wealthiest, most powerful people could mobilize their fortunes to secure chairs and for a long time, the game served them: the increasing desperation for chairs on the part of everyone else translated into ready access to toadies, jesters, bodyservants and courtesans. But we're at the endgame. The number of chairs is trending to single digits. The world will soon boast one or more trillionaires. You can't amass a trillion dollars solely by raiding the pathetic reserves of poor people - you've gotta pauperize some billionaires. The 2019 Varsity Blues scandal revealed the desperation of the chair-habituated mid-upper echelon, who had participated and benefited from the maintenance of a wildly unequal society but now saw that their kids would have no place in it. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2019_college_admissions_bribery_scandal It turns out that the Varsity Blues parents were amateurs. The real pros don't cheat their kids into sports-based elite college admissions - they DESTROY their kids to get sports-based elite college admissions. Ruth S Barrett's feature in the current issue of The Atlantic exposes the jaw-dropping world of ultra-rich families' tormented children and their desperate, moneyball gambits to buy their way into sports scholarships. https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2020/11/squash-lacrosse-niche-sports-ivy-league-admissions/616474/ It's a longread and worth your time, but here's a quick tldr: you've got kids whose parents move Olympians into their guest-cottages to train them in squash or fencing in private gymnasia on their sprawling estates. They spend vast fortunes flying them around the country and the world competing. Children are exhorted by professional athletes to stab each other with fencing foils until they are at the point of collapse. Then they're given a break to eat dinner out of a cooler toted by nannies who bark math problems at them. Their parents argue about whether to disclose their kids' multiple concussions to new coaches, and the kids grow up with long-term chronic sports-related disabilities. And the thing is, the Ivies and Big Ten schools were already seeing through all of this before the pandemic. Even schools that really wanted to have a top lacrosse or water-polo team were savvy enough to understand that these kids had already peaked. If you're 18 and performing in the 94th percentile after being trained for a DECADE by Olympians, nothing the school does will make you any better. How could they? If you want to find prodigies, pick undertrained kids who still perform competitively and polish THEM. What's more, these kids are basket cases. They arrive at university with no grip on reality, no capacity for self-management or self-actualization. They spiral into substance abuse and mental health crises. These sports admission programs often have their roots in an attempt to provide space at elite schools for poorer kids, especially kids of color (that was definitely the case with the USC football team when I taught there). But the chair-having motherfuckers figured out how to buy these seats, too. And why? Why destroy your kids' health and their sanity? Why watch as your adolescent daughter gets STABBED IN THE THROAT in a fencing competition and then re-enroll her in fencing? Because the number of chairs trends to single digits. That's why you pay nannies to do oppo research on the kids your offspring competes against; it's why you pay dirty tricksters to bombard admission departments with dirt on kids competing with yours for a spot on the team. All that was BEFORE covid: parents waking up and realizing that they were destroying their kids' life for a gambit that would probably fail, but doing it anyway because they knew that a world of trillionaires would leave the chairless grubbing for roots and insects. And now the elite schools are simply getting rid of the teams these children have been optimized to play for, in a process that recognizes that they were just a way for the wealthiest, whitest plutes to buy their way in. Hilariously, billionaire parents have responded by starting "urban" leagues for elite sports to create the appearance (if not the reality) that your fencing team might not be a back-door for the ex-CEO of American Express's progeny to attend an ivy. While others are promising second-tier colleges that starting a water polo team will bring in a bunch of full-tuition kids who've been honed from birth to simulate one another's death by drowning. It ain't gonna work. Here's a telling quote: "Sorry, but there’s no way in hell. What parent wants to have a child who’s going to be playing for a bottom-tier school with bottom-tier academics in the armpit of the United States? I want to be polite. But there’s no way in hell." -Water-polo mom from Stamford. In Capital in the 21st Century, Thomas Piketty describes how the Age of Colonization ended primogeniture, whereby great fortunes were kept intact by passing inheritances solely to the eldest son, while other kids became spouses or clerics. Colonial looting made it possible for the Great Families to bud off new fortunes for each of their offspring, for two or three generations. When they exhausted the world's supply of brown people to enslave and rob, that ended. Plutes whose parents and grandparents' cohorts had each started a new fortune had to tell their own kids that the ride was over. But any system that has been in place since your grandad was a kid is effectively eternal and it was unthinkable that the eternal would end. So the plutes decided that it wouldn't end. They would all get new fortunes, and since they'd exhausted the world's supply of poor people, they turned on each other. We call that fight World War I. For 40 years, the world's wealth has been gathered into fewer and fewer hands, as oligarchy's musical chairs game has run faster and more vicious. Now, the chairs are tending to single digits. Plutes are desperate. The idea that their kids would lead worse lives than theirs - an idea the rest of us have been expected to swallow for a quarter-century - is unthinkable. So they're not accepting it. They are destroying their own kids in a bid to acquire one of the final chairs. Most of those kids will not get a chair, and the ones that do will be broken and shriveled things, stunted by a lifetime of abuse. But it's not them I'm worried about. I'm worried about the kids that DON'T get a chair. Their parents were willing to torture their own kids FROM BIRTH to get them a chair. When that fails, what will Plan B look like? Image: Wannapik https://www.wannapik.com/vectors/3887 CC BY https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/

#pluralistic

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revengeoftheantichrist · 3 years

Text

Kingdom Come

Warnings: Knights, Inappropriate behaviour

AO3

Chapter 1

The kingdom of Morningstar was a proud one. Its territory spanned from the coast, all the way to the mountains. The soil was rich and fertile and its people prosperous. The kingdoms military was unrivalled, keeping the kingdom secure and safe from any threats. It was also unique; the Morningstar military allowed women to become knights. It was the highest a woman could go socially without being married, and it was the option in life that you chose too. Your family wasn’t particularly rich and marrying up would be impossible for you. And anyway, you were not prepared to marry just yet. You wanted to see what the world had to offer. So you worked hard. The training at the Robichaux military academy was rigorous and hard, you had the scars to remember your time there. But to you, it was all worth it. Your work paid off when you were given the position of ‘royal knight’. This truly was the highest one could go. You were trusted enough to guard your king and his family, to proudly walk the halls of the royal palace with your sword by your side. Your village celebrated your achievement with great joy, everybody congratulating you as you returned to say your goodbyes before moving to the palace grounds. You were glad the pay was good too, meaning your parents no longer had to work the long and back breaking hours that they did, you could repay them for all they had done for you by making their lives a little more comfortable. You could also send your siblings to better schools, allowing them to make something of themselves and live comfortably. To you nothing could go wrong now. The chances of war were almost impossible, and you were sure you could patrol the palace halls with your eyes closed.

However, the universe did not allow your peace for long. The king had fallen ill. Everyone eventually met their end and he was coming on in age. But what truly turned the world on his head were his orders. Holy men and law makers alike were up in arms about the decision. The king’s children protested the possibility of this historical change. The king would possibly legitimise a bastard son. It was unheard of and improper. The existence of this bastard was an open secret, but no one expected that he would ever be allowed to set foot into the palace halls. In fact, the rumour was that the crown prince would have him killed as soon as he was coronated. A man like that would only cause problems until his last breath and the royal family would have none of it. The only reason he was allowed to live up until now was the soft spot the king had for his mistress; any other potential bastards were killed as soon as they were discovered, and the king made sure of that, keeping a record of the women he had shared the bed with. The task of retrieving the man was up to you. You expected someone of a higher ranking to be given the task, but the palace needed to be protected by the most experienced during the kingdoms vulnerable period. //// The journey was long and difficult. Your party had a three-day journey to make on horseback, into the furthest reaches of the kingdom. Your plan was to only spend one night in the area, as the man had been informed of the move weeks prior. You breathed a sigh of relief when you spotted the large iron gates. You dismounted from your horse and pulled the hood of your cloak down. The guard leered at you before noticing your uniform, quickly standing up straight and letting you into the manor grounds. You thanked him with a nod. A short and dark-haired woman was waiting for you at the manor entrance, he all black attire made her almost blend into the night that surrounded you. “State your name and your business here,” she spoke out to you. “Dame Y/N Y/SN, a knight a royal order, I am here by order of His Royal Majesty the King,” you held a scroll out to her. “We are here to ensure Lord Michael Langdon arrives to the capital safely as his presences is requested by His Majesty.” You held your head high and met her gaze with the same intensity. She closed the scroll and smiled. “We’ve been expecting your arrival, I am Miriam Mead. Please do come in, the servants will ensure your horses are looked after.” You simply nodded and followed behind. //// It was obvious that this manor was a former royal residence, apparently it was the King’s favourite before it was gifted to his mistress. Everything was artisanal and expensive. Fabrics and furnishings from lands afar, hours of painstaking work in every piece. It was all well looked after, not a speck of dust. You weren’t surprised, the king provided a healthy stipend that paid for the staff and luxuries. You were also sure that Michael had his own business too, as far as you were aware, he was well educated and well connected. You never were one to involve yourself in rumours, but your stop in the nearby town had you worried. The man had a reputation. But then again, who were you to judge, the royals you served were also involved in scandal and debauchery, they did not have a leg to stand on when it came to socially acceptable behaviour. Lost in thought, you didn’t realise that you had stopped in an elaborate dining room. You looked at Ms Mead with a questioning look. “My Lord would like to dine with the knights that have come to escort him,” she explained. This was very strange; nobility didn’t usually dine with knights. “I’m not really dressed for dinner,” you joked with the woman, pointing to you travelling armour. You men snickered at your comment. “Please disarm before you are seated, your gear will be retuned to you in the morning before your departure.” You gave her another confused expression, looking back at your men that wore the same look. “I’m being serious. Lord Langdon has many enemies, so we have to be extra careful, just in case.” You couldn’t really argue with her reasoning. You nodded and removed all your weapons, handing them to the staff that was waiting. The doors swung open just as you were handing you sword over. A man with blond curls walked into the room. He walked with authority and confidence; you knew by looking at him that this was the man that you were here for. His blue eyes glimmered in the candlelight as he sized up your crew. “I see, the king thinks I do not need a high security escort.” The sound of his voice halted every other sound in the room, you were sure you were holding your own breath. “And what about you?” he moved closer to you, not hiding his wandering eyes, “a gift from my father?” You couldn’t hide your expression of disgust. Upon a closer look, he looked more like his father than any of the King’s other children. He seemed to have the same attitude too. This was going to be a long few days. “I’m Dame Y/SN,” you bowed slightly, “I am here to over see your journey to the Palace,” you gave him a polite smile. “How interesting,” he moved away from you and to the dining table. “Well, I must thank you for travelling this far, please, join me for dinner,“ he gestured at the table, before seating himself at the top of the table. You hesitated before making your way to the table. You chose the seat furthest away from him as you weren’t prepared to engage in any small talk. He had already left a bad taste in your mouth. However, his eyes never left you during the mean, his gaze burning into you the whole time. //// It was finally time to retire for the evening, a long journey ahead of you. You breathed a sigh of relief as you pulled your hair out of its tight bun, lightly massaging your scalp to ease the ache. Luckily for you, you were placed in the female servants’ quarters, engaging in light chatter and trying to listen for any information about your host. A maid was bashfully explaining her encounter with him in the library just before you had arrived. None of this shocked you though, his father and brothers were the same type of men. The egos on these men were bigger than their dicks, the vice of pride had an iron grip on them. You settled into bed as the chatter continued around you, the tiredness finally caught up and you drifted off to the white noise. //// The sound of footsteps woke you from your slumber. You could feel a presence in the room, the smell of cinnamon wafting through the air. You kept your eyes shut and reached underneath your pillow for the dagger you hid in you boot earlier. You never fully disarmed, a lesson you learned at Robichaux the hard way. You felt a weight on you, you shot up, dagger pointed at the intruder. Your eyes adjusted to the darkness and the identity of your assailant shocked you. It was Michael. He let out a low chuckle, bringing his finger to his lips in a ‘shh’ motion. You looked around the room to see everyone else in a deep sleep. As you looked back at him, you realised your dagger had grazed him, a light trail of blood trickled down his cheekbone. He said nothing as he gripped your hand, pulling the dagger away and towards his mouth. He smirked, before licking the blade, keeping his eyes locked with yours. Your breathing was heavy, hand trembling in his vice grip. After he had finished, his grip on your hand tightened enough for the dagger to slip. He said nothing as he took it, inspecting the blade. He stood, pocketing your weapon, and without a word, he left. //// The incident from last night had you on high alert. You had breakfast with the rest of the staff, going on to give out instructions to all the staff that would be travelling with you. The carriages were double checked for any security issues and the final bits of luggage was loaded. Your weapons were returned earlier in the day. You were talking to Ms Mead, before you were irrupted by Michael himself. “I thought id come ask the two ladies in charge myself if we were ready to depart or not.” “The final checks have been completed my Lord. We are ready when you are,” you answered. “Very well then. I need to confirm my lodgings during the journey with Ms Mead then we shall be on our way.” “There is no need,” Ms Mead interrupted, “I was just speaking to Y/N over here, your lodgings haven been organised by the king my lord, you will be staying in royal residencies along the way.” Michael simply nodded at the information. You bowed as your name was called by one of your men, leaving the pair as they were whispering to one another. To your benefit, the royal lodgings had separate barracks for knights, allowing you to avoid the man for the next three days. //// You had never been more thankful to see the city gates of the capital. The past three days had been difficult. Your charge just couldn’t seem to behave himself, causing problems in every little town you had stopped in. The money you had to pay off was so much it had eaten into your personal allowance. It would be returned to you, but you still had to fill out the long expenses report. Your horse also seemed excited at the prospect of a long rest, speeding up through the city, knowing her way to the destination. You dismounted to pass through the rear palace gates. Michael was not yet important enough to be let in through the front. The thought made you chuckle as you were sure he was scowling at the fact. Your superior was waiting to welcome the guest, u made sure you conveyed the emotions you were feeling through your facial expression. He bit back a smile. You handed the scroll of orders to him, transferring all responsibility to him from here on out. You hoped to never meet Michael again, not even for the return of the army issued dagger. You were sure you could explain why it was missing. You left before the carriage door even opened, hoping to relax in the nice and warm bathhouse. //// Michael would have a personal meeting with the king, no one else would be present. All Michael knew was that he had to prove himself to his father. To show the king that he too was worthy of the title of prince. He had suffered with a lowly title for years, knowing in his heart of hearts that he was destined for more, destined for greater things. His mother and Ms Mead raised him to hold his head high no matter what, and take every opportunity that he could, even if he had to fight for it or snatch it away. He had spent most of his life doing whatever he wanted. Living under constant scrutiny in the palace would be difficult, but he’d adjust, he prided himself in his adaptability. He’d do anything to get to where he wanted to be and the royal family was not prepared for how far he would actually go. //// You headed to the dining hall after your bath. You looked forward to sharing a meal with friends. However, you were stopped by your superior before reaching the dining hall. “Y/N, you need to get changed, your presence has been requested by the king,” he ordered. The look of shock on your face was spectacular. Had Michael told the king about the dagger incident? Was this the end of your career? All for harming a bastard prince. You nodded and ran to your quarters, changing into the clothing you had for the occasion. Your superior stood waiting for you, not saying a word as you walked to the destination. You wanted to run as the doors slowly opened, revealing the king on his throne and Michael with his back to you. You stepped into the room and bowed low to the king, going through will all the formalities before standing up straight. “Lord Langdon has praised your work, Dame Y/SN,” the king spoke. Michael ground his teeth at the ‘Langdon’ moniker. It felt like a kick in the teeth to him, he was just as deserving of the ‘Morningstar’ name as the rest of his siblings.

“Thank you Your Majesty and Thank you my Lord,” you replied. “I have decided to make you his personal knight for the time being and you are free to choose the staff that will accompany you. I’m sure you are aware of the magnitude of this task.” “Yes your Majesty. I thank you for this honour,” you bowed again. Michael grinned at you, making you fear exactly what his motives were. There were only so many daggers you could be issued. “Sir Moore will have further instructions, you are dismissed,” the King finished. You bowed before leaving the room again. You didn’t speak until you were out of earshot. “He’s only been here a few hours and I can already tell he’s up to something,” John Henry said. He was your superior. You nodded at his observation having witnessed the scheming personality for three days straight. You prayed to the gods above that Langdon’s stay would not be long. Your prayers fell on deaf ears. You would spend the rest of your life cursing the crown you has sworn your life to.

Next>>>

#my writing #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #KC1

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a-forgotten-spirit · 4 years

Text

Love Isn’t An Illusion (5)

Pairing: Todoroki x Bakugou, Todoroki x Reader x Bakugou, VERY SLOW BUILD

Summary: Studying, exams and lead up to the practical exam

Words: +-6600

Warnings: Anxiety, stress, overthinking, feelings of pressure, over working, unhealthy habits, over studying, not eating, not sleeping, getting thinner, (aggressive) caring Bakugou, Monoma, angy boom boom boy, fear of failure, swearing

Tagged: @kittycatspervertedheart @lemorrite @gwendlynn @marleps @thicctati2 @saitamastamaticsoup @succulent-momma @aurorahoneybuns @imjusttireddudes @misconceptualised @ochabby @katsukisuwus @gayverlinq @star-witchs-blog @fallbb123

A/N: I wrote this for the fans. I do not own My Hero academia or the characters, I don’t own most of the plot for this story, I had watched the show and re-written the dialogue and plot as if the reader was the main character. Everything is centred around the reader. Please comment, makes me happy. Ask if you wish to be tagged. I’m thinking of making a patreon for exclusive fanfics and commissions, comment/ask/message your thoughts.

Masterlist

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

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Chapter 5 Y/N P.O.V

Once Aizawa left the room Kaminari and Mina were yelling within seconds “It’s true we haven’t had much free time” Tokoyami but in. I’ve had heaps of free time, you just cut out sleep and boom like 9 hours of studying ready for you. I had come first in the midterms so I couldn’t fall behind now.

“As someone who ranked in the top ten I'm not that concerned” Mineta smiled spinning in his chair. It was quite often my brain ignored that he was athletic and semi-decently smart. Though his personality ranked quite low in the class so overall he wasn’t doing exceptionally well.

“What you’re tenth in the midterms” both Kaminari and Mina yelled out in unison. They were the bottom two, I couldn’t imagine the stress of that. I can’t deal with being first not to mention being last. I think I was going to faint, just thinking about it sent shivers down my spine.

“Ashido, Kaminari. We still have time to study and we’ll all get to go to the training camp together” he had ranked fifth I had completely forgotten about the camp far too focused on not failing I must have excused that from my memory. I was glad Midoriya brought it up, now I was forced to converse with my parents at a later date. “Right” he questioned with a smile, hands clenched and happy.

“Yes, as class rep, I have hopes we will make UA proud” Iida was in third place in the class. How was he holding it together, I wanted to ask him for his secrets. To give me guidance. I needed the help, I needed to train. I had so little time.

“It’s pretty hard to fail if you just pay attention in class, isn’t it” Todoroki’s voice was so bland and he spoke, his words were true. Like there was no way I could fail, right, right? I could feel my heart beating so quickly. Todoroki had ranked sixth in the class, how was he being so calm. I was stressing beyond belief.

“Why you gotta cut me down like that” Kaminari was holding his chest, kneeling on the floor. I nodded, I felt the same. Everyone in the top ten seemed to calm and here I was in first place having a small crisis. I thought I had gotten over my nerves but not at least not for my education.

“Hey don’t worry you two, I can catch you up to speed on certain topics if you want” Yaoyorozu was so nice, maybe I would ask if I too could join. She ranked second, I needed to ask her as well as how she wasn’t stressing. Was it the fact she wasn’t number one? Was it something else? Did she not care? Anyone give me an answer. I had study sessions but they slowly died down with the class. I was collapsing and I needed support. Mina and Kaminari took her up on the offer. “I’m afraid I won’t be any help when it comes to the practical though” she sulked, an aura radiating off her from the corner of the room as she sat down in her chair.

“I’ve been studying but can you help me out too, I’m having some trouble understanding quadratic functions,” Jirou asked holding up her book. I too had struggled with them, a whole night of rewriting them, listening to a youtube video about them and then reading about them had solved that issue. Jirou ranked eighth in the class.

“Tutor me please, classical Japanese is killing me” Sero had his hands above his hand in a ‘praying’ formation, he ranked eighteenth. Classical Japanese was a lot of work but again some videos and all-nighter. I think I had got it to a T, though what if I had missed something… My lord what if I had missed something.

Ojiro walked over his shoulders slouched and hand in the air like he was volunteering “Is their room for one more, I’m falling behind a little” at least he was honest. Ojiro ranked ninth so he was still in the top ten but I could see his stress. I was listening in from my desk as my hands shook.

They all asked in unison for help and Yoayarozu looked stunned for a moment, her hands coming to her lips as her eyes sparkled “This is wonderful” she shouted, her seat moving back as she jumped up, hands in the air happily. How could she be happy at a time like this? “Yes let’s do it, ok we can hold a study session at my residence over the weekend” she smiled hands clasped together.

“Seriously, I can’t wait to see your fancy digs” Mina smiled as she bounced over. Yaoyarozu looked so happy, a blush forming along her cheeks, hands fisted near her face. Her smile was beautiful, she was beautiful. How could she be smart and pretty?

“I must call mother and ask to set up the great hall, it’ll be the perfect spot” Did she just say great hall, she was joking right. She didn’t have that kinda space just laying around. “What kind of tea does everyone like, I'll make sure we are stocked” everyone looked about as shocked as I was, sure I knew she was rich but this was just wow. She continued to go on about what her family drank and that if it wasn’t to your liking she would buy some. Such a good host and we were still at school.

“Sounds like I should be studying with her” Kirishima smiled at the group forming at the back of the room, he was ranked sixteenth. I couldn’t blame him, she seemed so confident and wise. How was she so happy, how was she able to make time for other people when she too had to study. Sure I could do it a few weeks ago but right now? A week before the exam, how was she doing it?

“Think I don’t know enough, maybe I should beat the lessons into your skull” Bakugou growled out, he ranked fourth. He was another I forgot was smart. He was always so loud and angry but he did care dearly for his education and becoming the best so it made sense why he was like that. Bakugou looked so angry teeth grit and eyes wide, was he mad that Kirishima even suggested going with someone else.

“I'm counting on it,” Kirishima smiled and nodded happily to the seething Bakugou. I don’t often see Kirishima without a smile, he was always so happy. Give me tips, please. I was on the verge of passing out, whether it be from stress, sleep deprivation or the four cups of coffee wearing off I wasn’t sure. “God I wish I was Y/N. Not a care in the world” Kirishima sighed and I watched as everyone turned their attention to me shaking at my desk.

“Yeah I know right” Sero agreed his head down, I heard a few more agree. Lord if only they knew how fast my heart was beating at the thought. “I don’t know how you can even get 100%” there was so much pressure, my head was spinning as I felt faint.

My hand rose, shaking as I shook my head “I am very stressed” I stuttered and everyone stopped turning to my shaking figure as I went to stand and my legs wobbled. “I think I’m about to have a heart attack,” I said calmly and sighed out unevenly.

“What, why, you’re so smart. Our study sessions were like you were a teacher. I don’t know how you find the time” Mina jumped to my desk as I stood up straight, my hands coming to rub my cheeks the end of my sleeves dragging along my skin.

“Yeah, you are incredibly smart” Kaminari agreed. “I could never come first” he sighed and everyone slowly walked over. I was rubbing my face still, slowly and shakily. They all thought I was so smart, I had so much pressure. “How do you have time?” he asked.

“I don’t sleep” I looked up, my eyes baggy and black. I might as well have been a walking corpse. “I studied over 300 hours for the last test. I can’t even imagine the time I’ve put into this one” I shivered and saw wide eyes and feared looks. “Am I allowed to the study sessions as well?” I asked slowly.

“I think you need some sleep” Yaoyarozu spoke and came to rub my back calmly. I could fall asleep to this, I could fall asleep standing I was so tired. “But if you want to come you are more than welcome” she smiled nodding. “I’ll make you some nice calming tea”

I grabbed her hands bowing my head “Thank you” I whispered and looked up seeing her happy face smiling, she was pretty “If I could marry you, I would” I whispered and she flushed as I heard some laughter. “I’m not joking, the idea of studying with calming tea is marriage material and no one can tell me otherwise” I bowed again. She blushed more and bowed back.

Then came lunch, we all walked to the lunchroom and sat down. We all sat at one big table and when I sat down I brought out my notes books and pens. This was half an hour I got to study, the lords are truly smiling upon me. As I began to write I could feel eyes on me.

“Are you not eating?” Mina asked slowly pointing down to my book “You can take a half an hour break to eat Y/N” I looked down to my book, I was hungry. When had I eaten last? I wasn’t sure yesterday, maybe. The day before. I was far too stressed and busy to eat.

“Well it’s an extra half an hour” I answered and saw the looks I was getting. “I have to do my best you know” I clicked the lid of my pen to the bottom of it and began to write again.

“When was the last time you ate,” Bakugou asked and I turned, we were sitting next to each other. He had asked me last time as well. He took a lot of care for his body, his athleticism was proof of that. Why was everyone so worried for me?

“Um,” I paused and tried to think about it “I had some rice, Saturday” I questioned and shook my head “I’m fine though, really” I smiled but even that was using energy my body didn’t have.

“Are you kidding?” Kirishima asked and I looked down shaking my head “I could never” he whispered and looked over my body. I too looked down, was I getting smaller? I pulled on my UA jumper and then flattened it to my body. There was a lot of excess fabric but I liked my jumpers bigger.

I saw a bowl placed in front of me as books were moved out of the way “Eat” Bakugou demanded and I looked down to the bowl of rice with soup and noodles, odd but it looked good. I shook my head and smiled about talking when I was handed some chopsticks. “I said to eat” he growled.

My stomach growled loudly, I hadn’t noticed just how hungry I was “Thank you” I whispered and placed my hands together in a thank you for the food. Picking up the bowel I began to eat and saw him eating something else he had brought. A few mouthfuls and I placed it down. “Thank you again” I went to grab my book but my hand was stopped.

“Eat it all” he ordered and moved the bowl back “You look dead” he added and took another bite of his food. I touched my face, did I look that bad. The noodles had a nice spice to it and were about to shake my head once more when I was glared at. Giving up I continued to eat until a loud banging was heard.

“Oh sorry, your head is so big that it’s hard to miss” it was the preppy boy from 1-B, the one who was a real jerk ward. I lowered Bakugous’ bowl and watched how this would play out. He was rude and had a grudge against 1-A. Maybe he hadn’t gotten in or maybe he just didn’t like us.

“You’re the kid from class 1-B. Um. Monomo right?” Midoriya asked rubbing the back of his head with wide eyes. Had he hit him, from the sound I thought it was the table, it was quite loud? Why was he talking to our class again? “That hurt” Midoriya yelled as he continued to rub the tender area at the back of his head.

“You guys stumbled across the Hero Killer” Now I was more interested in the conversation, the whole table was. “Just like in the sports festival, class 1-A isn’t happy unless they are the centre of attention but you know you aren’t in the spotlight because people think you’re good heroes, right?” even his voice was annoying. Did he only come here to make fun of us, was that it? “It’s just that you keep getting into so much trouble. Here’s food for thought someday the rest of us might get caught up in your mess and then we will all become victims as well” his smile was wide and menacing. He did have it out for us. “What kind of horrible villain will you bring down upon us?” he continued.

“Are you done?” I asked my eyes slowly looking over to him, too slowly to not be creepy. He seemed to sense it too. “I’m not in the mood to deal with your insecurities right now” I continued and he looked offended. Wait, did I say that out loud?

“Excuse me” his eyes widened and he huffed turning his eyes towards my own, trying to explode my head, or maybe he was constipated. I rose and eyebrow in confusion as some of my fellow class chuckled. “Say that aga-” he was cut off.

I watched as the redhead walked up, slapping him upside the head within a second he was on the floor holding the spot, now he knows how Midoriya felt. “That’s not funny Monoma, you heard what happened to Iida, chill out”

“Kendo” Iida called out his hand up about to respond again. She seemed to be everywhere the little rascal blonde went. I was about two seconds away from sticking him in an endless cube for twenty minutes.

“I apologise for him. I’m pretty sure there’s a hole where his heart should be'' she began, he should apologise for himself. Though when I looked down I should see him dangling in her grasp, did she knock him out? “So I was listening about what’s going to be on the big final practical. I heard it’s going to be combat against robots like the entrance exam” everyone straightened up now far more intrigued with the new information “One of my friends who is a few grades up filled me in. You know, cheating but oh well” I could beat them, right. I got in on recommendation so I didn’t know but I fought them in the festival and they seemed pretty easy.

Midoriya began to mumble to himself as I picked the food back up and looked down to my notes, the book was closed seconds later. Bakugous’ hand retreating as he pointed to the food in my bowl. I continued to eat, he did care about people in strange ways but still cared nonetheless.

“What kind of idiot are you Kendo” so the preppy boy was awake again. My eyes rolled by themselves this time. “You just gave away our whole strategic advantage” he whispered angrily his head rising, eyes wide as his smile. Was he ok? “This was our chance to finally pull ahead of that class full of idiots” another slap to the back of the head and he was out, being pulled out by Kendo who was calling him an idiot. A true saviour to class 1-A. Before lunch ended I made sure to give Bakugou his bowl and chopsticks back, thanking him again and asking if I could come to his study session. He agreed, a shrug but still agreed.

After lunch, everyone was talking about how the practical would be easy. It was only the exam they were now worried about. I was still stressing about every second but that was my problem. “It shouldn’t matter whether it’s robots or actual people, why are you morons so excited” the question was directed to Kaminari and Mina, they were offended by what he said but their words died down when he began to shout “Shut up” he got angry so quickly, I don’t know how he did it. “You need to learn how to control your quirk, you got it” I had to admit he had a point, they did need better control and out of everyone in the class, I think he was in the top for harnessing his quirk. “Hey Deku” his voice growled, this was the most I had heard him talk in a while. “I wanna know what’s going on with your power. I saw the way you’re using it now and I want you to know it’s seriously pissing me off” his eyes were narrowed and hands in his pockets. The training exercise, just like how he moved, had he been bottling this up for a few weeks? “I won’t have another half-ass fight, like the festival, we will be getting individual scores in the upcoming finals. New rankings” his teeth grit and his hand rose quickly pointing to the scared looking male “So we will all know exactly where we are standing. I’ll show you how much better I am and Todoroki, I’ll kill you too” with that he walked from the room, the door slamming shut.

My hands came to my cheeks once more “Am I not seen as a threat” I whispered and saw a few faces at my stress. “Oh my, does he not see me as a threat” I whispered “I was the one who beat him” I added and sighed “Although not through physical strength” Bakugou didn’t see me as a threat. I fell into my seat, my head on the desk. “Oh no,” I sighed my forehead against the wood.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen him that worked up,” Kirishima told the class then walked over and I felt a hand on my back “I’m sure he sees you as a threat, the other two are just” he paused and I rose my head slowly “people he doesn’t like” my head came crashing back to the table.

When the weekend rolled around, a group of us met at Yaoyarozus’ place, it was massive. Sure, I knew my house was big but this was something else entirely. We stood in awe, I had managed to get some sleep the night prior, regretted it in the morning but I had a bit more energy for the day ahead which I didn’t regret.

“I knew her family had cash but I didn’t know she was this rich” Kaminari voiced all our thoughts, we all nodded in unison. It looked like her house went on for acres, and I didn’t doubt it did.

Moving forward to press the bell a voice came through and the gates were open. All six of us walked to her house, large and beautiful. I didn’t understand the need for space but I could appreciate it. We were moved into the ‘great hall’ and we all sat down. Jirou, Kaminari and Sero on one side and Mina, Ojiro and I on the other books ready and awaiting our host.

It was strange seeing the others in normal clothing and I looked down seeing the baggy jumper, black ripped jeans and boots I wore on my days off. Though the boots I had to imagine, taking off our shoes before entering the house. I wouldn’t want dirt in here either.

“I could not feel any more out of place right now” Ojiro voiced and I nodded and Sero agreed verbally. It was a beautiful house and well taken care of. I couldn’t believe this is what Yaoyarozu came home to every day.

She walked in pushing a tray of tea, she was wearing a red shirt and white shorts. Even though they were ‘normal’ clothes she still looked proper in every way. She was so nice to let us over to study, honestly a gift to my week. Hours of studying went by and I got ahold of everything, I needed to do more. I was given calming tea as I shook and stressed.

“Marry me” I turned my eyes wide and hopeful. Yaoyarozu was a goddess in the body of a human. She had laughed and continued with the lesson. Over the weekend I met with that group of a day and Bakugou and Kirishima at night. A little over twelve hours of study with other people a day and then my study at home.

“How are your notes so neat?” Kirishima asked leaning over to look at my notes in the booth, having met in a cafe. I looked down, my notes were mostly colour coded for different things, having many pens and highlighters.

“I have a fear of failure” I stated and he nodded. I helped the two organise by colour coded and it seemed to help Kirishima get the hang of a few things “Look, cover, write, check” I wrote down on a posted note for him, sticking the paper to his book neatly. “The motto I live by, or just keep doing it until it’s engraved in your brain for eternity” I smiled and Bakugou nodded in agreement.

“So manly” he nodded and started my technique, this went on for a few hours until we parted ways and I let him borrow one of the study books I was done with having memorized it. He looked about ready to cry “I owe you my life” he bowed and I laughed.

Going home, eating something and then back up to my room to continue studying. Every day this week I had worked on my quirk. Expanding my area, how long I could do it for, how many things I could create, size, density. Everything had to be perfect. I worked night and day to be the best. I was going to stay in the top spot. I could do this. I hoped, begged.

The weekend went quickly but the night before the exam I slept more hours then I did the whole week, waking up I felt ‘refreshed’ and ready. I practically sprinted to school my head high and my mind ready. I had an illusion of the answers beside me, to make sure I didn’t forget anything. Answers I had studied and worked my ass off. The first exam was long and I powered through the answers, seeming to know every single one. I didn’t stop writing for the entire time, I was proud of myself.

The third day was finally over, I felt my heartbeat again “Alright pencils down, the last person of each row bring the answers to me” My page was collected and I felt a weight off my shoulders. I was breathing again, was oxygen always this good?

Yaoyarozu was then bombarded with Kaminari and Mina thanking her, I said it but I wouldn’t bet she could hear me over them. They had answered every question which was good to hear. They gave it a go. Later that day Kirishima had asked why I thanked Yaoyorozu and then the class was surprised to know I went to both sessions with the groups and then studied more at home.

The practical was still to come, I looked down at my hands. Was I ready? I had trained so hard every day, was I ready for this? I shook my head then nodded, yes, I was. I had gone up against villains, murders, Nomus and won. I can beat a few robots… There were no robots.

We were all in our hero costumes standing in front of the teachers. I was shitting bricks, to say the least. “Now then, let’s begin the last test, remember it’s possible to fail this final. If you want to go camping, don’t make any stupid mistakes” Aizawa warned. I was petrified, were all the teachers going to watch us?

“Why are all the teachers here?” Jirou questioned, good now I didn’t have to talk, a small sigh left my lips in relief. I thought it would only be Aizawa, maybe All Might if we were lucky not all of them.

“I expect many of you have gathered information and believe you have some idea of what you’ll be faced with today” I froze, we weren’t fighting robots were we? Of course, it would change for our year, why wouldn’t it?

“We’ll be fighting those big metal robots” Kaminari shouted leaning back as if to allow as much sound from his body as possible… he most likely did do that. His hands were out and Mina joined in happily smiling.

I watched as Aizawa’s scarf ruffled then Principal Nezu popped out “This year's test has been changed for various reasons” he smiled, I felt my heart sink. I was right, I was too right. Why was I right, why couldn’t we just fight the robots? “The test now has a new focus” he lowered himself with Aizawa's’ scarf and the help of No.13 “It’ll be hero work of course but also teamwork and combat against actual people. So what does that mean for you, your students will be in pairs and your opponents will be one of our esteemed UA teachers. Isn’t that fabulous” I was going to throw up. My hands were shaking as I put my hand over my mouth to try and get myself together.

“Additionally your partners and opponents have already been chosen” I was mad at that. If I lost because of my partner I was not going to be impressed. “They were determined under my discretion based on various factors including fighting style, grades and interpersonal relationships” this wasn’t going to end well. I was so sure, I was going to win but the idea of having to not only watch myself but someone else was a lot of work. “First Yaoyorozu and Todoroki are a team” he smiled pulling his scarf up “Against me. Then we have Midoriya paired with Bakugou” they turned to each other and I could feel the tension circle our group. “And their opponent is”

A loud bang and there was All Might in all his glory suited up and ready to fight “I am here” his fist was out and my heart fluttered in fear. I was so glad I wasn’t them. It was good to know I wasn’t going to be fighting the top hero and a little insulting knowing I was the first by grades and in the festival. I tried not to take it personally… I took it personally. “To fight” first Bakugou and now the teachers. “You’re going to have to work together boys, if you want to win” his smile only grew with a chuckle.

Teachers P.O.V (third person)

The teachers began to talk about the exam, explaining why it needed to be changed and how. Some teachers were against the idea but the topic of the league of villains attacking once more quickly changed their minds, why wouldn’t it? The heroes in training need to be ready if anything ever happens. Hero Killer Stain may be gone, but for how long, how long until someone takes his place? Everyone was now on the same page about the students fighting the teachers.

“Right, now let’s talk about the teams” Aizawa held a pile of papers in his hand, looking down at the first team “First, Todoroki, he’s doing quite well generally speaking but relies too much on brute force. Yaoyorozu is an all-rounder but lacks the ability to make spur of the moment decisions and apply them. Therefore I’ll erase their quirks and take advantage of their weaknesses” with the simple explanation all the teachers had agreed happily. It was fair, one liked to take control while the other feared to make decisions by erasing their quirks they would have to work together. “Next for Midoriya and Bakugou I’m leaving them to you All Might,” said male looked confused a little taken back by the conclusion of his pair. “In this case, I didn’t pair the two based on ability or classwork, I went with relationships. I know you’ve got a soft spot for Midoriya, please ensure that they learn something” Aizawa pointed out and.

“I will do my best” All Might nod in affirmative. It would be hard for the number one Hero, he did have a soft spot for the green-headed successor but he also had a soft spot for the explosive teen who loved to cause damage. He was nervous but would do what he needed.

“The next group is Anyama and Uraraka, I picked this pair based on relationships as well. I have never seen them talk and in the hero world you will need to pair with random heroes, they need to learn to pair with whoever” Aizawa explained then looked to No. 13 “I have paired them with you, both their quirks will be easy to fend off with your own and they will need to think outside the box”

“I see” No 13 pondered then nodded “I look forward to facing them, I hope they can work well together” she concluded with the other teachers agreeing. As she was given the papers to learn more about them and how their quirks worked.

“Forwarding on, Ashido and Kaminari this pair is based purely on grades. They are the lowest in class but seem to work well together. They both need work on their quirks so this is why I'm pairing them with Nezu. They need to think outside the box and quickly as well as together” Aizawas’ eyes turned to Neku who was smiling and quite happy to take the pages of the two students' information.

“Very good thinking” Nezu nodded his eyes growing narrowed and smirking “I am quite excited to face these two in the exam” everyone knew Nezus’ past and his slight dislike for the human race.

“Moving onto Tsu and Tokoyami both strong quirks but both are long-distance fighters, preferring to stay back. Relying heavily on their quirks. So Ectoplasm” Aizawa’s eyes moved to the Pro who nodded indicating he was listening. “Your clones will provide close combat as well as distance. They need to work on thinking quickly as well and not relying on their quirks”

“Understood” his creepy voice spoke out into the room, a man of few words as many knew him. The pages were handed over easily and his eyes began to scan the information. Sure all the teachers had taught them but any extra information was useful.

“The next pair is based purely on fighting style and speed, Ojiro and Iida. They work well in teams and can talk to anyone, they rely on speed and technique. This is why I'm pairing them with Power Loader because they will have to move faster, think as one and make sure they watch what is going on around them all at once” another explanation down.

“This will be interesting” Power Loaded nodded and Aizawa knew he had a smile on his face even though this headgear was stopping most from seeing. Aizawa had spent a lot of thought and time working on these pairs.

“Kirishima and Sato are with Cementoss, I paired them on strength and they have close grades as well as their quirks are both short term. Both friendly and enjoy working in teams. Let’s see how they fare against Cementoss who can change the location outlook in a matter of seconds” Aizawa smirked to the fellow Pro who thought for a moment and then nodded.

“I wouldn’t hurt them as much as the other students if I go for a hit and they need to work on speed and agility. A very good pairing Eraserhead” Cementoss nodded and took the papers. He too began to look through the information provided, he had taught them and only saw Kirishima at the festival using his quirk.

“Koda and Jirou are with Mic as they both rely on sound to use their quirk, it’ll be hard to use sound when someone is yelling over the top of them” this pair was easy to see the potential for a fight. “Koji will be required to talk more and build teamwork, Jirou will be tasked with helping him”

“Yo yo that sounds awesome Eraserhead. Perfect pair for me indeed” the loud hero smiled and nodded bobbing to music that wasn’t playing as he grabbed the papers and put them down in front of him with ease.

“Shoji and Toru will be placed with Snipe. Their quirks are stealth-based and with someone shooting at them it will be hard to stay quiet and move in silence” Aizawa conducted putting the two pages together and hitting them against the table to make them even before handing them over to the hero who only nodded.

“That leaves just me” Midnight smiled and placed her head atop her hands, her smile turning into a smirk “With Mineta and Sero am I correct,” she asked licking her lips.

“Correct. I put them with you as Mineta can get” he paused shaking his head “Distracted while Sero is mostly speeding. Both with different fighting styles and outlooks on being a hero plus I found out they both look up to you” Aizawa answered with ease handing over the last pair of pages.

“I do look forward to breaking them” licking her lips again she nodded and sighed out. Placing the pages down “Are we done? So soon” she questioned, that was a short meeting but if the pairs were decided it was to be expected.

“No, there is one more student” Aizawa sighed and everyone was paying full attention “Y/N” he breathed out and everyone nodded. “Her quirk can be used in any situation and against any quirk, plus they can become physical. She could simply put an illusion of herself and no one would know the difference” he looked down to the paper seeing her face in the picture “I don’t know what to do” he answered honestly “She was first in the festival and first grade-wise, I heard the other students. She hadn’t slept in days to study for the test” the teachers all nodded.

“Her quirk is a problem, she could easily get past any of us” Cementoss nodded adding his input into the conversation. Everyone sat in silence as Aizawa looked down to the paper with all her details. She was a perfect student for UA.

“She athletic as well” everyone turned to Snipe, the teacher who had taken her as a sidekick for a week. “She beat me in hand to hand” that stopped the teachers. “Her quirk works on thinking, she showed me something that” he paused and shook his head and licking his lips behind his mask “She had a conversation with me while also talking to a coworker at the same time. Her mind was doing two different things simultaneously while also keeping up the illusion”

Midnight shook her head “That takes extreme power, in the festival her illusion looked so real. I believed it” She added nodding her head, a hand coming to her chin to think. Cementoss agreed.

“She doesn’t rely purely on her quirk but also does. No matter who she went against, if it was a formal and acknowledged physical fight, if someone managed to beat her, I would be quite impressed” Snipe nodded as the other teachers agreed. Snipe was the only one who knew of her ‘weakness’ but he would never tell and even if he did it wouldn’t matter she knew everyone here.

“I have an idea” Principal Nezu spoke up thoughtfully and all the teachers were open ears for the suggestion “What if we all went against her at once. It would prove she’s been working on her quirk, how many things she can create at one given moment. How quickly she can think and act” it was a good idea but the idea of it was unfair. “It may seem unfair to the child but we don’t have another option” all the teachers agreed, though some not looking as determined as others. “Though she has one rule” why would she have a rule and no one else, her test was already quite unfair. “She must show at least one teacher her true self during the exercise, she needs a challenge” the teachers felt bad but it was for her good. They had to test her as hard as they could. Even if she took down two maybe three teachers they would be impressed.

“Then it’s decided, Y/N goes against all of us, at once”

Y/N P.O.V

Once all the names were called out with their pairs I looked around and was confused. I was guessing they put a group of three, had they forgotten about me? Was I not seen as a threat that much that they just excluded me? “Um” I put my hand up and the class stopped talking turning to me. “I wasn’t paired,” I said slowly smiling as I did, an awkward smile and I could see the confusion of my peers.

“You’re a special case Y/N” Aizawa looked me dead in the eyes and I nodded slowly, my eyebrows drawn in confusion as I waited for an answer pursing my lips. “You will be fighting” I nodded and smiled, OK, so I wasn’t getting kicked out or something.

“OK” I nodded slowly and looked around “Am I joining a pair or something” I looked around and saw pleading faces for me to join groups. I had to be joining a group, there was no other way to complete the test or was someone going to have to do it twice, would I do it alone?

“You will be competing alone” Aizawa added carefully and I felt my hands shake slightly, I could beat them. I nodded still confused. All the teachers were taken. What weren’t they telling me?

“Am I getting a teacher brought in or something or is a teacher doubling up?” I asked looking over everyone before landing back on Aizawa for the answer. Everyone was silent as the teachers waited for the answer and my peers listened in.

“You are very strong” Aizawa began, this didn’t sound good. Bakugou and Midoriya already had All Might who was the top hero. Was I going to be fighting Endeavor or something, Best Jeaniest maybe? I felt my heart begin to race “After some talk and decision making we decided that you” he paused and then looked straight at me with a smirk “Will be fighting us all at once” I felt my eyes grow wide and gasps were heard behind me as my heart sank.

I was going to be fighting them all… at once. Alone. Someone catch me. ________________________________________________________________

Chapter 6

68 notes · View notes

pluto-art · 4 years

Text

Out of the Cold, Out of the Cavern

Type: Fan fiction (PatB) / Self-insert/Y/N/OC (sort of...) Genre: Hurt/Comfort (what else?) Words: 4,841 Rating: K+

Fan Fiction Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13724127/1/Out-of-the-Cold-Out-of-the-Cavern

As usual, I recommend the fan fiction version, which includes all of the italicized words.

Thanks to @shuunthenonbeliever, I was inspired to finally write this. :)

“One-sixty… one-eighty… two hundred,” the plump woman said, sliding a packet of bills off her jewel-laden fingers and into yours, like water pouring out of a spout.

“Thank you,” you replied, hesitant to pocket the load with those two, round, black eyes still staring at you, burrowing into your soul. They belonged to a young girl, nine or ten in age, perhaps, with short, auburn hair, her little white and turquoise dress bouncing up and down as she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, waiting, watching.

“She’ll need watch every weekday from three to nine,” instructed the woman, barely even looking at you or her daughter as she checked her purse for something. “If you have any trouble you have my work number.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“But you’ll be no trouble. Will you, Elmyra?”

“Oh, no, Ma’am. Nopey nopey nope! We’re gonna have so much fun laughing and cuddling and playing with all my fuzzy whittle animals!” screeched the girl, in a voice that scratched like sandpaper.

“Yes, dear. Be good to your new babysitter, all right? Mommy has to go to work now.”

“Bye byeeeeeee!!” Elmyra waved, smiling widely in mock innocence as her mother stepped out the door.

“Bye,” you called out, a bit half-heartedly.

As soon as the door snapped closed, Elmyra turned to look at you expectantly, beaming.

“All right. She’s gone. You can go play with your pets,” you said.

“Yaaaaaaaay!! I’m coming, my fuzzy whuzzies!”

And off she hopped, skipping down the hall and around a corner ever so gayly, to a spot that you knew to be her bedroom, where all manner of horrible and unspeakable things happened.

You turned, leaned against the front door, and inhaled a long, deep breath of air, practically sliding against the thing as you counted out the greens in your hand -- one one-hundred, a fifty, a ten, and two twenties. Yep. Checked out.

You pocketed the loose change, paused, then got up and stuck it in your backpack instead. It’s not like it was going anywhere for a while. Besides, you hated carrying around more than you needed to in your small pants pockets.

Tossing the backpack next to the living room couch, you collapsed onto said couch and took a gander at your new surroundings.

It was a quaint little abode. Could have done with a new paint job, perhaps, but the yellow interior and old-style furniture wasn’t completely abhorrent. The whole cottage was rather cute, in its own weird way, sporting the occasional gothic chandelier that would have looked much more at home in Edward Scissorhands’ house, or a wastebasket that was far too frilly and posh to even be used for its original purpose. But the seating was comfortable, the cable was working, and, best of all, the fridge, stuffed to its seams, was, according to Mrs. Duff, 100% at your disposal. If there was anything that solidified a job offer for you, it was free food.

Not that the job was all chipper and charm. You knew what you were getting into when you took it, and the intermittent screams coming from Elmyra’s bedroom, as well as the cat that nearly bit your finger off from earlier as you tried to coax him out from under the kitchen table, were stark reminders of that. Everyone in the city of Burbank knew who the Duff family was, whether it was personally or from the horror stories passed down the school halls. Most who visited their house, unless they were a close family friend or relative, never wanted to step back in it again. It was common knowledge that you only went to Elmyra’s if you wanted a nice, long day of yelling and suffering, and all in your dorm would have rather died than take on the job of babysitter when it was posted online. But you took it. You took it… partially ‘cause you had no choice. What with a full-time college schedule and not much else in the cupboard save for ramen and three-day-old apples, cash was in short supply and desperately needed, and even though the last thing you’d rather do was keep watch over this kid, you also couldn’t find a job anywhere else. Besides, the pay was good. Excellent, in fact. Two hundred every Friday. You might even splurge on Chinese this weekend.

Sliding the remote off the thick, wooden table, you flipped through the channels, one-by-one, finally landing on National Geographic. The narrator was deep in discussion about the living habits of bats. Appropriate, you thought, as Elmyra flitted out of the room, make-shift cape trailing behind her and blindfold on, zoomed into the kitchen and grabbed a packet of cookies before zipping back into her room, sounding very much like a bat as she laughed in a loud, screeching tone the entire time. You did a double-take as she slammed the door behind her. Were there… other voices coming from the room? No. That’s silly. You shook your head. Crazy.

The next couple of hours went by surprisingly uneventfully; so much so, in fact, that you wondered if there was any basis in the rumors that floated around about the Duff residence being a literal “house of horror”. Some even said the place was haunted. It wasn’t until 6:55 PM, when you went to remind Elmyra that dinner was almost ready, that you got a whiff that things weren’t… quite what they seemed.

Of the menagerie loose throughout the house, Elmyra owned a total of one cat, a parrot, a turtle, and two white mice. The turtle hid. The parrot squawked. And the mice? The mice… talked.

“Narf! Hello there!” the taller of the two said, as you meandered into the room. You cocked an eyebrow and hesitantly lifted a hand to wave at him.

“Hi…,” you replied, a little taken aback.

The shorter mouse didn’t look up at you. His focus was heavily trained on a notepad rife with complex calculations far beyond your intellect. He was scribbling away as if his life depended on it. He also called you a “disposable hindrance”, albeit indirectly to his associate, something you didn’t entirely appreciate, but you also didn’t dare talk back. Not yet.

“Oooo. Munchie time! Come on, little mousies!” Elmyra cheered, and she grabbed both rodents tight around the neck with her short, groping fingers, stuffing them into her shirt pocket as she ran out of the room and in the direction of the kitchen.

You stood behind for a moment, nonplussed. Okay then.

A soft shuffling down the hallway made you turn. It was the cat. He still looked quite wary of you.

“Hey, kitty,” you cooed, gently but not in a childish fashion; more like you were simply greeting a friend. “You gonna let me pet you this time?” you asked, bending down and holding out a hand for him to sniff.

Tenderly, cautiously, the cat stepped up to you, wagging its tail slightly behind him. You narrowed your eyes. A wagging tail wasn’t necessarily a good thing, especially when it came to cats, but this was… different. The closer he got to you the more he wagged it, as if he was… excited? Curious? He sniffed your hand… and licked it. Odd. Then he peered up into your face, lolled out a long, pink tongue, and barked.

You sat back a little, wide-eyed, as the cat-dog jumped up onto your legs and actually started licking your face. It was… weird. Cute, but… weird.

After a few hearty licks, the cat, satisfied, jumped back down, scratched itself, and ran off to play with a ball. You wondered why he hadn’t come up to you before. Perhaps he still had more of the cat than the dog in him. You also now understood why some people claimed that this house was “haunted”. Two talking mice and a barking cat. Not exactly “spooky”, under your terms, but definitely unusual. You wondered what other treasures this quirky household held. Pirate bones? Dinosaurs? You had to admit it was rather exciting.

Shuffling back into the kitchen, you found Elmyra at the table, greedily shoveling the macaroni and cheese you’d made for her into her mouth as she watched a cartoon program on tv. The mice sat beside her in a little highchair, both now dressed as infants, the big-headed one looking absolutely miserable. Now and again, Elmyra would shovel a huge spoonful of mac and cheese into one or the other’s mouth against their will. Lanky mouse didn’t seem to mind it too much. Grumpy mouse turned to look at you with an expression that read: “shoot me”.

“Elmyra, be careful with how you feed your pets, okay? They might not like too much mac and cheese…,” you suggested, cautiously, frowning a little at the big-headed mouse in pity.

You knew, of course, about this kid’s harsh treatment of her pets. Everyone knew. But her parents were rich, and could probably buy out the police station and the A.S.P.C.A. if they’d wanted to, and so no one said anything. Still, as an animal-lover, you were curious. Just how badly did she handle her critters? Maybe you could do something to relieve their pain while you were there? And the situation was bad, certainly, but you’d seen worse, and there was only so much you could say besides, at least while she was awake. Too much rebellion and you’d probably be fired. That being said, you fully intended to assist in giving the poor things a little reprieve once Elmyra went to bed in an hour, and so you let the macaroni-shoveling slide… for now.

8:00 PM came and went, with little deviation from the norm aside from Elmyra quickly popping into the kitchen again at 7:23 PM, opening the freezer, and succinctly closing it before racing back into her bedroom. You shrugged at the gesture, barely turning around from the tv, figuring she probably just went to grab some ice cream. Thankfully, Elmyra not only went to bed early, but also was a heavy sleeper, so by the time 8:15 rolled around she was already obediently in bed and snoring, needing only a reminder from you ten minutes prior. The lanky mouse opened an eye as you peeked in. He was sleeping in the bed with her.

“Sorry,” you muttered, making to close the door, but the little mouse sat up.

“Wait! D-Do you mind checking on Brain? Elmyra said he went to Antarctica, but… he hasn’t been back in a while. You’ll go look for him, won’t you?” he asked, twisting his tail as he said it.

“Sure. I’ll look for him,” you responded pleasantly, and you meant it. The mouse smiled.

“Oh, thank you!” he whispered, tucking back into bed. “Good night!”

“Night,” you whispered back, closing the door softly behind you.

You frowned. Antarctica? More than likely, cranky mouse was simply hiding somewhere, but internally you promised to keep an eye out and check a few cupboards.

Several drawers, a pantry, numerous cupboards, and a couple of closets later and you still couldn’t find the little mouse. You even checked the higher areas of the house, wondering if “Antarctica” meant somewhere scalable and colder. Your first thought, of course, had been the freezer, but that was preposterous. She wouldn’t be that cruel. Would she…?

Out of pure curiosity, you headed back into the kitchen, grabbing a bowl from a cupboard as you did so. You were hungry anyway and figured that a hearty helping of ice cream before you left in half an hour certainly couldn’t hurt. You had free reign of the fridge, after all.

You set down your little blue bowl on the counter. You grabbed a spoon from a drawer and set it in the bowl. You even snatched a couple of Oreo cookies from an Oreo cookie box nearby and plopped them next to the bowl for good measure. Could never be too careful.

Noticing that Elmyra had left a box of frozen fruit pops on the counter without putting them back, you shook your head, grabbed it, opened the freezer door…… and dropped the box onto the floor with a loud plop. Hastily, you whipped off your red sweater, reached into the freezer, and pulled out a little white ball of frozen fur and whiskers.

“Oh, you poor baby,” you cooed, cradling the small mouse in your sweater as if he were precious cargo. You tittered. “Goodness. You poor thing. She actually put you in here??”

Closing the freezer door, you brought the mouse up close, pressing a finger to where his heart would be. His eyes were shut tight, and he was curled so firmly about himself that it took a little doing to get your finger up to his chest. He didn’t stir as you moved him about. There was a heartbeat… barely, faint as a whisper. It was a miracle he was still alive.

Almost instinctively, you cupped him in your hands, brought him over to the sink, and slowly turned on the faucet, checking that the water was lukewarm before carefully sticking him under the steady stream. You didn’t want it too hot right off the bat. Even a warm temperature might be a shock.

Two minutes later, after you’d let the (hopefully) stimulating mini waterfall wash over him, you turned off the faucet and proceeded to dry him off with a towel -- softly; slowly. He still hadn’t stirred, not even a little, and you gulped. Were you too late..?

8:35 PM. The stillness of the night, save for the now dimmed volume of the television, found you sitting once more on the couch, this time with a fuzzy occupant in hand. Big-headed mousie -- the… Brain… he was called? -- lay cradled in your arms, encompassed about with a very soft, very woolly blanket indeed. It was the fluffiest you could find in the house. Nothing less would suffice, in your mind. You could only imagine how frightening of an ordeal it must have been, shivering, cowering in a freezer for an hour, not knowing if the next breath you took would be your last….

A thumb gently stroked the snow white fur of the sleeping mouse, and you couldn’t help but massage that oversized head of his from time to time, muttering to him in soothing tones as you did so.

“You poor thing…. I’m so sorry I didn’t see you in there earlier,” you apologized, even though he probably wasn’t listening. He still hadn’t opened his eyes, the only indication that he wasn’t dead being the steady beat, beat, beat of his thumping heart every half a second.

“You gonna blink for me, sweet heart?”

And then, as if on cue, the little mouse sloooowly blinked, opened his eyes, and stared at you.

“Hey there, little one,” you whispered, smiling at him. “Atta boy….”

His eyes began to shift around, rapidly, and he frowned, as if trying to take in all at once where he was and what had happened.

“It’s all right. It’s all right,” you reassured him, readjusting your grip a touch as you continued to hold him close to your chest. “I’ve got you. Elmyra’s asleep. She can’t do you any harm. And if she tried I wouldn’t let her.”

He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it once more, and subsequently shut it again, as if at a loss for words. Perhaps he really was speechless, or perhaps he was still a little stiff from having been locked up in the freezer for so long. Whatever the reason, he continued to stare at you, almost unblinkingly. As you went to pet him again, he reeled back, breathing faster than normal.

“Shhh. Shhh. It’s okay,” you said calmingly, pausing a mite before resuming your soft massage of his head. “It’s all right, little one. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

And slowly, hesitantly, he settled.

“‘Antarctica’,” you mused, shaking your head. “I’m surprised you survived that. Poor thing….”

You continued to talk to him; comfort him. After a solid five minutes of being stroked and cooed to, he actually leaned into your hand. You could tell he enjoyed the massage, reluctant as he was to admit it. A heavy sigh escaped your lips. You couldn’t help but feel sorry for the little fellow, even if he had been a bit of a butt to you earlier. How often did this kind of thing happen to him? Weekly? Daily? How often did he bath in this torment? You decided to ask him.

“Does she do this kind of thing to you often?”

He nodded, gaze still trained on you.

“Like… daily?”

He nodded again. You sighed.

“I’m so sorry….”

He actually shrugged.

“It’s… my life,” he coughed out, in a deep, chocolatey voice that was a little raspy. It was almost comical that a voice that low could come from something so diminutive.

“Well, it shouldn’t be your life,” you countered. “You don’t deserve any of this.” He simply blinked at you.

“How long has she had you for?”

He shrugged again.

“Over a year..?” he guessed.

“Over a year…. Sheesh…. How are you still alive?” you asked, actually chuckling a little… and regretting it immediately after. This was no laughing matter.

“I… I don’t know,” the Brain admitted, his body vibrating for a second as it released a shiver. For once, he looked away from you. “I don’t know….”

There was something in the way that he said “I don’t know”, something in the way his voice quivered a touch as it floated off into the air, that made your heart break in two. It was as if he himself couldn’t believe they’d held out as long as they had; that they hadn’t given up all hope by this time. It was a dry admittance, a sad admittance, and he blinked rather rapidly and sniffed after saying it, as if trying to bite back tears.

Any animosity you’d had for such a creature had completely dissipated by this point. His honesty. His helpless quaver…. They’d destroyed it. With all the more tenderness, you rocked him gently to and fro, taking extra care to massage his whole little body, as best he’d let you anyway, trying to iron out every last bit of pain trapped in those delicate bones. He barely even resisted, save for asking once why you even bothered to help him in the first place.

“Because I think you needed it,” was your blunt response.

He’d looked away a little shyly at this, before turning back to look into your eyes.

“Thank you,” he muttered, and it sounded sincere.

You simply nodded, smiling at him, continuing to rub out the pain as best you could.

8:47 PM. You tossed a frown at the clock. Mrs. Duff would be back in about thirteen minutes. The time you had spent with your new charge hadn’t felt like enough. You were fully aware that you couldn’t take him back to your place for extended relief. He’d have to return to Elmyra’s room, or, at the very least, be put back somewhere in the house before the mother arrived. This posed a bit of a problem, however, for by this point he’d fallen back to sleep in your arms. You stopped rocking him back and forth for a moment to simply… look at him.

He was so small. Much smaller than expected for a pet mouse. Perhaps he’d been a field mouse in the past? A body that fragile shouldn’t be thrown around in a house by a volatile little girl. He should be cared for; comforted; loved.

8:48 PM. He was actually snoring, so quietly it was barely audible. Despite yourself, you leaned down… and kissed him on the top of his head. He stirred, but didn’t awaken.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered again, swallowing thickly.

You looked at the clock. 8:49 PM. You sighed.

You couldn’t do this. You knew you couldn’t do it from the moment you opened the freezer door and saw him lying in there. Two hundred dollars a week wasn’t worth it. You were going to be fired and that was that. Screw the money. The thought of leaving the two mice in such a condition as this was unbearable. You couldn’t rescue all of her animals, of course, and you hated the idea of stealing, but this one had almost died.

8:50 PM. You groaned. This wasn’t going to be easy….

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Sunday morning saw you bright and early, topping off some pancakes in your dorm room with maple syrup, cutting up a few tiny pieces, and setting aside said pieces on a small napkin on a table. Two little white mice immediately stepped up. You smiled at them as you dug into your own, much larger portion of the breakfast, watching the sun rise beyond the balcony.

In the end, you’d chosen the lesser of two evils: voluntary departure. The moment Mrs. Duff had returned home, you’d politely thanked her for the payment, but regretted that you didn’t think you could continue to operate as babysitter. She’d been disappointed, but not surprised. It wasn’t the first time a new hire had quit so suddenly. The turn-over rate with Elmyra was high.

And so you left, leaving the two mice behind at the house, but had returned the next day around 1:00 PM while Elmyra was in school and her parents were preoccupied. She had a tendency to leave her bedroom window open, you see, and it didn’t take much convincing to persuade the mice to consider new living arrangements. The taller one, whose name turned out to be Pinky, was a bit uncertain, and felt bad about ditching without even a note of thanks or apology, but the Brain said it wouldn’t matter, that Elmyra would get over it soon enough and find some other tiny rodents to torture, and so Pinky relented. Not that you could blame him for being hesitant. You also felt bad about literally kidnapping them in this way, but you couldn’t think of any alternative.

Watching Pinky happily lick maple syrup from his lips, however, and observing Brain take notes on a pad while he chewed on pancake satisfactorily, you felt it had been worth it. Pinky still felt a bit guilty about ditching Elmyra so suddenly, but he seemed to adjust to change surprisingly quickly, and sweet breakfast food every morning was a-okay in his book. Brain was still getting used to you, and spoke only when necessary, but he hadn’t forgotten the freezer incident. When he did speak to you it was fairly formal and polite, and he’d even let you scratch behind his ears now and again. Pinky was undoubtedly the friendlier of the two, and you enjoyed spending time with him, talking about movies and playing board games, but there was a special place in your heart reserved for Mr. Grumpy. You figured that would always be there after what had transpired several nights prior. All you could see whenever you opened a freezer door now was an ivory, frost-bitten body trembling in your hands.

Bright sunlight was pouring into the dorm room now, alighting the chairs, the tables, the dishware…. Smiling, you stood up, plate in hand, and stepped out onto the porch, choosing instead to rest in one of the outside seats, the better to enjoy the day’s warmth.

Several minutes later, as you popped a piece of pancake in your mouth, something, or someone, crawled up into the chair beside you. You looked down. It was Brain.

“Hello,” you greeted him pleasantly.

“Hello,” he replied. He licked his lips a little timidly. “Umm….”

“Yes?”

“I…. Well, I… I just wanted to say that… you’ve…. Well, it’s… it’s nicer here than at Elmyra’s….”

“Glad to hear that. I would hope so,” you smirked.

“And… I…. Well, I… um…,” he stammered, scratching at his neck.

You smiled.

“It’s okay,” you said. “You’re welcome.”

He looked up at you, then back at the sunrise. A minute passed. Quietly, inconspicuously, he sidled up close to you, and leaned his entire body against yours, closing his eyes as he did so. Your heart warmed at this show of trust. Oh….

Gently, so as not to startle him, you brought up a hand and began massaging him.

“I love you, little one,” you whispered under your breath.

In response, he pressed closer against you. It wasn’t at all what you expected from him, but you gratefully accepted it all the same.

You both sat like that for a long time, enjoying the touch of the sun’s rays, Pinky finally joining in some moments later as he snuggled up to his friend. Brain actually wrapped an arm around Pinky... and smiled. Pinky hugged him back.

A grin tugged at the corners of your mouth as you watched them, before turning your attention back to the sunrise. Hot pancakes. A beautiful view. Soft mice. And no Elmyra. It was nice.

As you petted the two little fuzzies cuddled up next to you, warm and full and far away from any girls who would put them in freezers, one thing became absolutely decided in your mind: no amount of money could ever substitute for this.

The End

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

Author’s Note:

I promised myself I’d never do a self-insert. Granted, that applied more to drawings, and even then I’ve made a couple of exceptions in the past, but writing out this kind of thing is still a bit embarrassing to me. I feel like it tampers too much with the canon universe, but, then again, so do AUs and even fan fiction in general. Every story is a “what if”.

This one came about, however, because I was inspired by a friend of mine, Shuun. She’d written a very sweet little story called Haven Forbid (which I suggest you check out), that was, in turn, partially inspired by a soft idea I’d had in which a young woman, taking on the job of Elmyra’s babysitter, discovers Brain trapped in the freezer and proceeds to nurse him back to health. The idea in general is one I’ve had for months and months and months. Whenever I daydream about cuddling and comforting Brain, it often comes back to this particular scenario. So, yes, it’s a flat-out self-insert. Ha-ha. I just normally don’t like sharing these things publicly, but Shuun inspired me to be brave. Heh. :)

Although this is written with a y/n perspective, the character of the babysitter is basically me. This is what I would most likely do if in this situation. Pinky, Elmyra, and the Brain is a show that I not only abhor, but that hurts my heart terribly. The pain I feel regarding Brain, watching him get beat up, tossed around, thrown against walls, choked, and all manner of other despicable things, is nigh through the roof. So dearly do I yearn to rescue him from such a predicament that I’ve literally been in tears thinking about what he had to endure in that show, even though it’s technically not canon. He can be a little butt himself sometimes, but he absolutely did not deserve any of what he was put through in that series.

Hand me a little frozen Brain and I’d do exactly what you saw in the story. Let me warm him; hold him; love him; tell him he’s not alone…. He’d probably balk at a majority of it, but, deep down, he wants to be comfortable and secure as much as the next person. I have so much love for this little fellow. A lot of the time he needs a kick in the pants, to be certain, and occasionally he’d rather be left alone than spoken to, but once in a while, even though he’d never admit it, I think he also needs a kiss to the head.

(As a side note, the title of this story was… paaaaartially inspired by the famous “Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire” chapter title in The Hobbit.)

#pinky and the brain #fan fiction

19 notes · View notes

reveliohq · 3 years

Photo

welcome back to hogwarts, ROSEMERTA CARDOZA ! enclosed here you will find all the necessary equipment for the upcoming school year. we await your owl by no later than twenty-four hours from now, or else you will lose your spot ! khadija red thunder is now taken.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎

( * 💀 / khadijha red thunder, cis woman, she/her ) — is that ROSMERTA CARDOZA i just saw rushing down the corridor? i hear they’re a twenty-two year old RAVENCLAW, returning for their seventh school year, but their friends would tell you that they are FUN-LOVING & PERCEPTIVE as well as lackadaisical & unfocused. if you want to know more about them, i guess i could tell you that they’re HALFBLOODED, and from what i hear, they’re currently allying with the neutrals. when our divination professor looks into their crystal ball, they see: YOUR FAVORITE BARTENDER THAT KEEPS ALL YOUR SECRETS (ESPCEIALLY THE ONES YOU DON'T REMEMBER SHARING,) LAZY SUNDAYS, MONDAYS, TUESDAYS, WEDNESDAYS..., CROPPED TOPS, CROPPED SKIRTS, CROPPED ATTENTION SPANS, & OVERPOURING AND UNDERACHIEVING. but who knows? — ( erin, she/her, 27, est )

𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

If anyone tries to tell you Ravenclaw is filled with nothing but nerds and grade-grubbers, point them no further than Rosmerta Cardoza: bartender, secret-keeper, and professional underachiever.

Rosmerta was born to an American witch and a muggle Brit, and grew up right outside of Gloucestershire with her folks. Her childhood had been all together uneventful. She'd grown up immersed in the muggle world, her mother hoping to leave the wixen world behind, at least for a while, after a falling out with her own wixen family back in America. Her father was none the wiser of any magical happenings in his family or otherwise and did his best to spoil Rosmerta rotten.

Therefore, when the letter arrived from Hogwarts, it came as quite the shock to everyone involved. Rosmerta had seemingly shown absolutely no signs of magical ability, and now her mother was going to have a hard time explaining the situation to dear old dad.

But, in classic Rosmerta Fashion, she simply shrugged and dove headfirst into the magical world.

Dad came around to the idea of magic existing less easily than he'd let on, but he remained supportive of his daughter and did his best to wrap his head around the fact his wife had had magical powers this entire time and had simply neglected to tell him.

Rosmerta would miss her dad quite a lot as she boarded the Hogwarts Express. It wasn't until she'd finally rested on the train that the weight of what was happening had hit her. She did her best to hide it under cool smiles and curly hair, but anyone would have seen the fifteen year old's hands shaking under her cloak.

Others may eventually question her intelligence, but both Rosmerta and the Sorting Hat knew the truth. Despite her efforts, Rosmerta had maintained a nearly perfect grade point average during her muggle studies, and the Hat doubted this trend would subside any time soon. But, more than that, Rosmerta had always had a marked intelligence surrounding people. How to speak to them, how to understand them, how to get them to tell you how they tick. People had always been fascinating to Rosmerta, and were her subject of choice to study.

So, Ravenclaw was the only house to choose.

Rosmerta would spend the next six years of her life not studying, staying out until all hours, making friends from any and every house, somehow staying an Exceeds Expectations student, and never actually figuring out what she wanted to do with her life.

So few things could keep her interest, and the things that did didn't seem to be willing to pay. The only thing she knew for certain was she wanted to stay here, in the magical world. Her parents had never been rich and they had no stakes in the British wixen world, so she'd found herself a part-time job at The Three Broomsticks as a busser, which eventually became a bartending gig. Her job is one of the few things she's passionate about, and it helps her further study people and help them get into and (occasionally) out of trouble. She has made friends with (and slept with) many people you wouldn't expect through her job and hears about interesting gossip on the daily. But, she'd never worried what she might hear, until the world finally came pounding on her door.

She'd known there was an issue regarding her blood status. That some people might not be as receptive to her if they knew, so for the most part, she kept her father's identity as a muggle to herself. Rumors still spread, so she's sure some people suspected, but what of it? Thoughts are not actions. They could think what they wanted, as far as she was concerned. But, thoughts only aren't actions until they suddenly are.

The shifting tension and the disappearance of Professor Ambarella are absolutely not lost on Rosmerta. She knows the implications. She may have even heard some things she wishes she hadn't. But, worrying has never been Rosmerta Cardoza's style. Neither has getting involved.

For now, she is more than happy to keep serving up drinks, dirty jokes, and a listening ear to whomever may need it, whether at school or at the bar.

#revelio.accepted #marauders rp #harry potter rp #mumu rp #canon divergent rp #fandom rp #canon rp #established rp

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reddie-fangirl24 · 4 years

Text

The Wedding Date (A Reddie Crossover)

This was a commission from @memory-vacant. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR COMMISSION! I hope you enjoy the story.

Richie could not believe it. His little sister was married. After a moment of hesitation on whether or not she was ready to get married, Richie convinced her - with help from Eddie luckily. To think this morning Richie sought nothing about love. And yet in so little time he actually felt like he was falling for Eddie.

All this was supposed to be a facade so he’d get his sister to stop nagging him. But as he was holding Eddie’s hand throughout the entire ceremony, Richie slowly crawled back into that annoying turtle shell of his and shoved his hands inside his pockets.

To get away from all the festivities for a bit, Eddie and Richie explored the house. Eddie liked to talk. The moment he showed up he was blabbing his ear off. At first, Richie didn’t pay much attention to him, but upon listening to him talk more about his overbearing mother and this awful woman, Myra he was set to marry, Richie felt bad for him. For most of his life, Richie was alone. Despite being with someone, Eddie felt alone, too.

Finally, they showed up in his parent’s bedroom. Richie would have taken Eddie to his old bedroom but his parents turned it into a regular guest bedroom since he moved out when he was eighteen. He wondered what Eddie would have thought of all the posters of comedians that he had on the walls along with the wacky wallpaper design he chose.

If he was lucky, maybe he could get him to come back to his apartment. What? In L.A?? They were in Maine, and Eddie lived in New York. That was only in his dreams.

Just like that, they flopped down on the bed in humorous positions. Weddings were exhausting.

For a few minutes, neither spoke, each dwelling in their own thoughts. Richie wondered if Eddie was aware of how close they were to cuddling. He wasn’t used to physical affection like a simple pat on the back. Just the thought of cuddling up with Eddie right now made Richie’s heart race. Did all this really have to end in a half-hour when he and Stanley would get in the car and drive away - back to L.A., the other side of the country?

“I feel like I have been talking the whole time,” Eddie said, interrupting the silence.

“Huh? What?” Richie asked coming out of his thoughts. He’d been staring at a crack on the ceiling. How long had that been there for?

Eddie turned so he could face him more. There was that sad look in his eyes once again. It was oh so reminiscent of looking at himself in the mirror.

“I feel like I barely know you.”

“What? My boisterous attitude wasn’t enough?” Richie joked, propping himself up on the bed with one elbow.

Eddie stared into his eyes, searching for answers as time was running out. “Tell me fun facts about you.”

“Uh... well, I’m a comedian.”

“I can tell.”

“No, I mean that I am an actual comedian!”

“Like that’s not obvious, I’ve seen you on TV,” Eddie told him, scoffing.

Richie raised his eyebrow, surprised. “You have? Why didn’t you say so?”

“Because I didn’t know if you wanted to talk about that. I like your work.”

Feeling his insides explode from cuteness overload, Richie felt humbled by the compliment. He always worried that he wasn’t doing something right like other comedians. But they all had their own technique, right?

“Do you have any more fun facts about yourself, or you just boring?” Eddie asked with a smirk. He could just feel his warm breath in his face. Sarcasm was their main language. He never thought he would meet someone who shared that in common with him.

“I’m allergic to fabric softener.”

Eddie’s eyes bulged. “What?! Then why are we sitting here? You need to get off the bed before your throat closes up and then you pass out and then we have to take you -”

“Hey, Eds, calm down! I was just messing with you!” Richie told him, waving a handout. He knew he shouldn’t have said that. His breathing was rapid. Eddie took out his inhaler and took a puff.

Richie creased his eyebrow at him. Although Eddie told him that he had asthma, there was something strange about that. The way he choked on his breath reminded him of when he’d get overwhelmed. Eddie never needed the inhaler when he ran. It was only when he was startled.

Not amused at all, Eddie’s whole face flushed red. “You should never joke about medical allergies, Richie!”

“Gee, I know that know,” Richie lightly rolled his eyes.

“You are so infuriating!” Eddie crossed his arms, sulking.

“Well, that’s another fact about me!” Richie laughed. Sensing that he ruined the moment because Eddie had his back to him, he mellowed down. “I’m sorry.”

“Really?”

“I don’t like it when people are mad at me,” Richie told him sincerely, lightly placing his hand on his shoulder.

Eddie turned around, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “Seriously? ‘Cause that’s kind of a part of your nature as a comedian.”

“Hey, who says I’m like everyone else? I like to have quiet time whenever I get the chance.”

“You? Quiet time?” Eddie snorted. Embarrassed, his cheeks went red. Richie laughed at the sound, making Eddie join in.

“What’s so funny about that?” he smirked at him as he continued to giggle.

“Because you, Richie Tozier, I cannot see you having a quiet moment in your life!” Eddie poked him in the shoulder. Here’s the side of Eddie that Richie liked. That side was kept repressed. He was fighting to escape so he could live the life that he always wanted. Then again, what was he thinking?

“What do you do on nights you have to yourself?” Eddie asked intrigued, crossing his legs on the bed. Faintly, Richie could hear voices from downstairs. His sister was very excited, laughing. It was his sisters day. Let her have all the attention. He didn’t want to miss her going off in that limo with her new husband.

“I like to cook pasta and sit on my deck,” Richie explained. “Sometimes I think up routines, I read...”

“You read?” Eddie beamed.

“No, Edward Spaghetti, I tare out the pages and throw them to the birds! ‘Course I read!”

“Don’t you fucking call me that!” Eddie warned, though the threat was ruined by a smile.

“I’ve been calling you that and Eds all day. Admit it, you like it!”

They laughed for a bit. This was the most Richie laughed for some time. He felt this feeling that he couldn’t come up with the words to describe it. Yes, he was happy. But his insides felt warm.

Feeling something buzz, Eddie checked his phone. His smile immediately faded. “My ride is going to be here in about fifteen minutes.”

And just like that, Richie’s heart fell into his stomach. He didn’t want this day to end. For some reason, he felt like all this was meant to happen. His sister always said that which annoyed him. All he wanted was to see him happy. She understood him better than their parents, well mainly his dad. But maybe this time he shouldn’t let this opportunity go.

“Eddie,” Richie said, using Eddie’s real name instead of a nickname for the first time that day. Even Eddie was surprised. Feeling his mouth dry up, Richie’s stomach turned. Great, the nerves were going to mess this up for him. “... Do you have to go?”

“Well, yeah, I have to catch the train,” he said, his nose turning up at the thought.

Spotting his hand right there on the bed, Richie touched it. The touch caught Eddie’s attention. He was a bit alarmed. But he didn’t take his hand away.

“What if you didn’t go back?”

“Richie, I have a life in New York. And... I’m engaged.”

“To some woman who you don’t want to marry,” Richie pointed out.

Eddie looked like he was going to disagree, but he was quiet. “It’s not that simple.”

Okay, here it goes. “I think I’d miss you even if we never met.”

The other man was touched by the comment, holding his hand a little tighter. “Aw, Rich. I hate to say it, but me too.”

Feeling a magnet drawing them in, they stared into one anothers eyes, at how close they were to touching. Eddie’s breath was enough to make him go wild. None of them knew who started the fierce makeout session, but they dove into the bed in a matter of seconds with Richie lying on top of Eddie. His lips were soft, like a pillow as Richie planted kisses all around his face. Their tongues mixed around in delight as Eddie wrapped his hand around Richie’s neck, pulling him closer.

As they moaned and kissed more Richie stopped when his hand was about to loosen Eddie’s belt buckle. Time stopped. No, he wasn’t... realizing that he was in the awful town he grew up in, Richie panicked jumping away from the bed.

Eddie was alarmed too, finally realizing what had happened. He was so lost in the moment. This never happened. But he was more concerned about Richie. “Are you okay?”

Nervously tangling his fingers through his hair, Richie didn’t look at him. “Y-You’re right.”

“What are you talking about?” Eddie asked trying to reach out and touch him. He was scared that it was him. Myra was not interested in a sexual relationship. But he wanted one. And this... it felt right.

Trying to fix himself up as best as he could, including his wild hair, Richie raced to the door leading out of the bedroom. Don’t look up at him, Richie told himself feeling his heart cracking in two.

“You’re right. You do have a life,” he uttered brokenly.

Going to argue with him, that was true. What would his mother think of him cheating. On a man. And he could never do that to her. But all of this felt so right. Like it was meant to be.

Richie opened the door and left. “Nice meeting you, Eddie.”

#reddie #it chapter 2 #it movie #commission #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #the wedding date #crossover

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marshmallowprotection · 4 years

Text

Calluna

Link: Read on AO3

Pairing: Saeran Choi/Reader

Fairytale AU.

Description:

The Prince has been bound to the castle walls, and he’s never been able to leave from it. The only place that he has to escape to are the books that he reads and the garden that he’s allowed to venture into every evening. But, what happens when he encounters someone that has eyes that know a world unlike his own?

Inspired by a drawing by @sensetenou

Chapter Index

Chapter One: Tumblr | AO3 Chapter Two: Here! | AO3

Chapter Two

You had only known a life of theft and thievery.

That was to say, you had no other choice but to follow that path after your parents passed and you were left with nothing to call your own but the clothes on your back. It wasn’t easy in this country, nobody had a good chance of survival if they were one of the commonfolk.

Those that lived in the castle had anything they could ever want and more, while the people suffered.

Their prosperity was upon the backs of people such as yourself. As the commoners suffered, the royals ate upon gold and silver. It was a thought that could make any person better, and it was no different for you, you detested the rich and all that they held in their hands while the people pushed themselves into their graves for it.

Some people preferred to accept their fate as it was, but you were among those that had no choice but to see that pain and want to do something about it.

Well, that wasn’t entirely right, you were forced to see it because you had been forced to repay a debt. A debt that had been placed upon you as a young child, a hungry child that took one measly gold coin of theirs from someone who had more wealth than you decided you would pay them back with your utter servitude.

You had no choice, it was your life, or give the man what he wanted. It wasn’t out of pity, it was out of the fact that the rich could push around anyone that they wanted.

As tired as you had been, no child in this world would pick to perish over being able to survive. You had been once a child that lived in your dreams your parents would whisper to you at bedtime, but now?

You knew that the world wasn’t a fairytale.

You knew that nothing was the way that people wanted children to believe it to be. You had swiftly found yourself dropping your dreams for cruel reality. As it had turned out, the man that you had taken from as a child was a man that built his wealth on fear and control, by stealing and pushing down others to keep power.

He controlled many people, those people brokered secrets, money, food, status, and more. If you had the things that people wanted most, or that people feared the most, you could pretty much do any little thing you wanted.

It was no different than the power that the royal family coveted, a power that couldn’t be tested because of its power.

As for you, he made use of your stature and young age very well, teaching you how to be quick-witted, fast, sly, and ready to take whatever you could for him.

You could pick a pocket far quicker than you could extend a friendly conversation with someone. It took a few years, but by the time that you had reached young adulthood, you were one of his best back-alley thieves.

Make no mistake, you knew that he didn’t trust you, but you also knew that going against him meant that you were sure to lose your life. He had eyes everywhere and on everyone, nowhere that you went could be far enough from the tyrannical Red Hood. You heard whispers among your brethren that he was a noble who hid his deeds underneath this mask, but you had heard many whispers.

In the end, you knew, it didn’t matter who he was behind the hood and behind his mask, it only mattered that he held your life in his hands and if you didn’t do exactly what he told you to do, you would surely pay for it with everything.

If he said “jump”, you would reply, “how high, sir?”

It was just as easy as that.

He told you in no uncertain turns that he needed some jewels from the castle. You didn’t ask why, you didn’t dare think to ask, you simply nodded your head. Nobody had ever managed to get in and out of the castle, and it was likely to be a doomed mission. And yet, here you were, standing free in the middle of the trees instead of in shackles in the dungeon as many had been before you.

As you hurried through the forest with the glimmering jewels in your bag, you couldn’t help but glance back at the castle you had abandoned. You had expected for things to go south fast, but what you had never dared think that the prince would come to your rescue, of all people. Prince Ray was nothing like you thought him to be.

The prince that never left the castle was often thought to be sickly, weak, and kept away to ensure that he survived long enough to produce an heir, at least, that’s what you had heard. True enough, his skin had been parlor and his eyes seemed wary, but he was very much alive and he seemed to be standing just fine on his own underneath the afternoon sun.

“Something isn’t right,” you said, mostly to yourself, not stopping or slowing your pace as you hurried through the brush. The prince wasn’t just a man kept in his castle for his health, no, he was truly bound to the grounds itself. You had heard whispers of magic in the past, but it was absolutely nothing you believed.

Magic couldn’t exist.

But, then again, princes with kind hearts weren’t often real, either, so perhaps there was something more to magic than you thought.

Was he cursed? Had he been hexed? Of all the stories that you had heard, it was often a princess that was cursed or trapped somewhere, never typically a prince. They were often that way because someone was jealous of them, or their beauty, or their power, or what they could do if they realized how great they were before it was too late for their foe. It didn’t make sense to you, no matter how much the image of the prince’s hand being unable to push out of the mystical wall of magic. It was like thick ice that bends as he strained, but it pushed him back.

It did not affect you.

Certainly, the prince was a lot more interesting than you thought him to be. You owed him, you owed him for saving your life back then. It was the one thing that Red Hood couldn’t take from you as he had taken everything else, and that was your promises. Your mother had once told you to never go back on a promise, and if someone did a good deed for you, you should repay them for it.

Prince Ray had not had to save you, he could have shouted and turned you in to the guards. So, you would keep your promise that you had made to him. Red Hood didn’t need to know about that, all he wanted was results. You had delivered on that, and you would make good on your word to him that you would return.

It took some time to pass through the next town as you blended into the crowd and kept marching on until you had made it through. Red Hood’s office was tucked away and out of sight, and you had to hit a certain number of knocks on a hollow tree just on the outskirts of this village. Two firm knocks, then pause, then three, then a single knock.

The earth would open and the doorway would appear in front of you, and you stepped inside without hesitation. You passed by plenty of his other cronies as you headed toward him, meeting the gaze of a few who seemed surprised that you had returned, and without a single scratch or bruise on your body to be seen.

You pulled the satchel from your side and dumped the contents out onto the table in front of your boss, not even batting an eyelash when he lifted his head to look at you. You knew he was, you could see the golds of his eyes. “The jewels, boss,” you told him, bluntly. “Just as you asked, all of them that I could find.”

He picked up a shining emerald, eyeing it with speculation. It seemed like he had doubted that you had gotten them at all. Or, perhaps he thought that you had grabbed them from another spot because a lot of his workers would often try to pass off smaller steals as bigger steals to get in his good favor.

Red Hood knew how to spot a liar and you weren’t going to lie to him for the second time in your life after you knew what happened. As if you were ever going to make that fatal error. His silence was often a bad sign, but you kept your composure and your hard trained eyes on him. If you backed down from your spot, it would only make it worse.

“What?” you asked, before placing a hand on your hip. “Is it not good enough?”

He sat up straight, and you felt the men behind you clench their shoulders and brace themselves for the worst. Rather than scold you, he set the jewel down and nodded, and if it weren’t for the mask, you might have guessed that he was smirking in your direction.

“Good job,” he said, gruffly. “If you had taken any longer, you would have been marked for death. I can’t afford to lose anyone that does their damn job right. Did anyone see you?”

You shook your head, deciding to stick to your guns and not tell him about the Prince. He didn’t need to know. However, you knew that if he found out about the magic that you had seen, he would have gone mad with delight. You still owed the prince a life debt and no way you were going to doom him when you wanted to know more about him.

“No, sir,” you said. “I got the jewels and I got out. Frankly, I think you should scold more of the men that had failed this task, boss. Security was a lot laxer than I was informed. If it was as sparse there as it is in the ruins, well, you connect the dots, Red Hood, sir.”

“Is that so?”

The tension in the air could have been cut through with a knife, and it still wouldn’t have made his laughter sound any less frightening.

—

Taking a seat at the bar, you laid your head down against the wood and breathed in a sigh. You were utterly exhausted after the tense meeting you had had, and there was nothing more that you wanted to but drown your sorrows in some cider and sleep the rest of the night. However, it wasn’t that simple for you.

You felt a glass thunk down next to your head, so you lifted your gaze to the man working at the bar, only to note that it was Zen.

You were surprised to see him, as he had been bound in debt to the same man like you for some time. It had been a while since you had seen his face because he had been the first and only man to leave without punishment.

He wouldn’t tell you how he did it.

You had a suspicion that he had come into money, or perhaps one of the pretty girls that found him charming had paid off his debt for him. Though, you doubted he would have accepted someone trying to do that. He was a stubborn man who worked hard for his place in life, and you considered him a friend of sorts.

He didn’t lose his parents, he left them.

After how they treated him, you didn’t blame him in the slightest for running for the hills. Even if it had doomed him to live the same life as you.

“Zen?” You sat up straight despite how your body screamed at you. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The man chuckled at you as if not even bothered by your uncouth language. “It’s nice to see you again as well, little sparrow. I was wondering when you would drop by again. It seems as though he is making you work harder, is he not?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” you took a long swig from your glass. “Thanks. I’ll pay you back for this later, Zen. I haven’t had anything in hours.”

He waved it off. “No, don’t worry about that. It’s on me this time. I owed ya’ for the last time we were together like this. Think of it as me paying you back because I know how you are about those lifelong debts.”

You shifted in your seat.

Well, you couldn’t blame him for that. He always knew what you were going to say, and as much as you loathed interacting with other people, Zen was one of the few people in the world that you knew that you could trust with your life. He had big dreams and he wasn’t going to stop until he got them in his hands.

Your parched lips thanked you for the drink, that was for sure. You wiped your mouth against your sleeve and set the glass back down, resting your hands against the table. “So, what brings you here, Zen? I thought you were chasing your dreams.”

“I am doing that,” he told you. “But, you know that an actor isn’t on the stage every moment of every day. I do have other things that I do, little sparrow.”

You snorted. He was such an actor, he knew how to say things that made you feel better even if it was just as simple as that. He knew what he was doing, and that was to Zen’s benefit. It was where he was meant to be. As jealous as you were that he had gotten out of this life, you were just as happy for him to be free as a bird.

Much like the nickname that he had bestowed you years ago when you first met him. You could say that he had taken you under his wing when Red Hood wasn’t pushing you around the base, and you were happier for it.

He was a kind man, even if he was only a few years older than you. It was enough to make people leave you alone. They respected him at the end of the day and even if they didn’t think much of you, you were safe because he thought well of you.

“Well, it is good to see you again,” you said, simply. “You should be watchful, though. He has more eyes out than ever, and even though you left without invoking his rage, I know he still has a sore spot for you, Hyun. Stay safe. I hope you know well to do that.”

Zen eyed you curiously for a long moment. He was taking in how tired and ragged you looked. “And I hope that you aren’t involved in anything too dangerous these days. I know you can’t control that, but please, remember that you can always come to me if you’re ever in danger.”

It went without saying that Zen was implying that if you dared to go against Red Hood, that if you tried to run away, he would offer you protection and shelter. Knowing that you had lied through your teeth to Red Hood for the second time in your life, you knew very well that your days may very well be ultimately numbered.

You were risking a lot on Prince Ray, and surely, you hoped that it was worth your curiosity about the man with bright green eyes. If it wasn’t, it may be the very thing that costs you everything that you’ve fought so hard to keep, and that being… your life.

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kats-random-writing · 4 years

Text

Just a silly Crush

6,048 words

Warnings:

Contains major character deaths.

This is written in Ochako’s POV so the reader is Uraraka.

——————————————————————————

Just a silly Crush

“Okay listen up, Next week UA is hosting a Halloween festival.”

Cheers erupt as Aizawa addresses the class, until his glare silenced everyone. “This is basically an excuse for students to blow off steam” he sighed “the school will be decorated and the Main Street will be the main attraction, but each class has a private gym for their own use. That being said, you are all expected to take this seriously. In today’s society new heroes especially need to know how to impress people to get better ratings. You’ll all be expected to act respectfully, and dress for the occasion.” –

“SO, WE GET TO SEE ALL THE GIRLS IN SKIMPY HALLOWEEN COSTU~” Mineta’ s outburst is cut short by Aizawa’s capture weapon wrapping all around him.

“As I was trying to say,” he sighed “the school might just be using this for students to have fun, I expect you all to act respectfully and appropriately. Now you all already voted, so for your free time you will get a dance, present mic will DJ for you for 2 hours then you are free to do as you please.”

You raise your hand “Mr. Aizawa? Are we sure this is safe? I mean after all we’ve been through in this year alone! How do we know villains won’t attack? Thinking back over your career at UA, supposedly the top hero school it didn’t make sense how your class had been attacked so often, it almost seemed like the villain’s had an inside look at how UA operates.

“Uraraka, the school thinks this is a good idea for all of you, obviously there will be enhanced security procedures.” He sighed again “But the life of a hero is never safe, you always have to be ready to jump into action. If you want an easy job, then obviously the hero isn’t the right one for you” he gives you a pointed look as he climbs into his obnoxiously bright sleeping bag.

“Anyways that’s all I have for you today, you're all dismissed” and somehow, he’s asleep before anyone can pack up.

“Man, that was harsh!” you blush “I just want everyone to have a good time! I know hero work is hard”

“At least we get to dance again! You were all getting so good!” Mina jumps and throws her arms around you and the other girls who had gathered around you.

“I must say, this does sound like an excellent opportunity for us to grow. My first internship was all about making good impressions in the media” Momo chimed in, gathering a collection of agreements from the class until a loud voice took over “THAT’S RIGHT” you immediately recognize Iida’s booming voice “EVERYONE, WE MUST DO OUR BEST TO SHOW OUR SCHOOL SPIRIT AND ADVANCE OUR CAREERS AS HEROS!!!”

As Iida continues his surprisingly well-rehearsed speech Mina leans down and whispers in your ear “hey Ochako, this might be the perfect chance for you!!”

“Perfect chance for what?” you respond confused,

“For you to confess of course!”

“WHAT!” you shriek,

you swear you couldn’t blush any harder if you tried “Whatdoyoumeanwahtareyoutakingabout” you whisper again, panicked as you wait for what feels like forever for her response.

But it never comes.

“Uraraka?”

Instead, a new voice joins the conversation, “What’s going on are you okay?”

It’s only then that you see that all eyes are on you, thanks to your unexpected outburst.

You were wrong, you apparently could blush harder. Deku’s voice breaks through your shock, as he asks again, “are you okay?” you swear you could see a hint of pink dusting his freckled cheeks, as he stares into your eyes.

You’re never going to stop blushing at this point.

You stare intently back until you feel a sharp pain in your ribs, “Ouch” you cry rubbing the spot where Mina had elbowed you, bringing you back to reality. Oh yeah. The whole class was still staring at you. “I’M FINE, EVERYTHING'S FINE, NOTHING TO SEE HERE!” you say louder, and higher than you meant. Slowly everyone begins to go back to their conversations and leave the classroom. Snickering Mina links your arms together and leads the two of you to your next class, Hagakure joins you and links her arm around your free arm, ‘I agree with Mina, I think you should confess too,” she pauses before adding “Mina! Have you figured it out yet? Who do you think it is?”

Panic strikes again, “What are you talking about Toru? Figured who out?” You question as you fake a sense of nonchalance. “Who you have a crush on silly” Mina laughs back. “oh, ah that”

“I need to get a drink” you announce quickly, surprising both girls and wiggle your arms free despite their protests. You tell them you’ll see them in your next class and speed down the hallway, still hearing their speculations on who they think your “crush” is.

***

Mina’s words stuck with you for the rest of the day and it passed in a blur, it felt like no time had passed before you were sitting in the dorm common room with the rest of the girls doing your homework. Most of the boys had joined you too, the only ones missing were Bakugou, who never really hung out with anyone other than Kirishima, who was also missing. And Deku who you could see outside training in the fall air. You looked around at all the strong young heroes and thought about how each one inspired you towards your own goals, you thought hard about each of your supposed crushes;

Iida who was always confident in his decisions and sometimes good to a fault.

Bakugou, even though he appeared rough he had treated you like an equal during your fight at the sports festival and continued to stand up for you in your absence.

And Deku, Deku who had risked his life to save you before you even knew him, Deku who you secretly tried to help by giving your hero points after the UA entrance exam, Deku who had a heart of gold and worked harder than anyone to reach his goal of living up to the legacy of the number one hero, and you knew he could do it too, one day. And that scared you.

Leaning over to Mina who was sitting on the couch beside you, you whisper “You’re right. I’m going to do it. It’s time to confess”

***

Each passing day brought more excitement and anxiety, but you had made up your mind, you knew that you would last much longer, there was already suspicion and suspicion brought more eyes than you wanted on you. You had to solidify your plan, there was no room for error, with so many attempts behind you, you knew that this had to succeed.

You stared out the window as your mind raced, going over every aspect of the night ahead of you, and exactly what you wanted to say - “I’m sorry Uraraka, is this lesson boring you?” A deep voice asked.

Aizawa.

Oh yeah, you need to factor him in too. “NO! Of course not! I’m sorry! I… I was just…...thinking about tonight….” you confess to your teacher,

“Just pay attention please” Is all he responds to, as he turns back to the bored, and you finally clue into the lesson. It's on hero costumes??

You look up to see a crude drawing of Deku’s hero outfit with point’s to where he needs to improve aspects or where he succeeded. Did he go over everyones costumes and you just didn’t notice?

His voice interrupts your train of thought again, “I know everyone is excited about tonight, but remember that UA has a lot riding on this, there have been too many incidents this year and we don’t want UA’s name to look worse in the eye of the public” He sounds almost sarcastic, “Anywho~ that’s I have for you today. Your all dismissed.”

“Mr. Aizawa, we have a full half hour of scheduled class time left?!” Iida immediately questions. “Not to disrespect your authority sir, but should we not continue learning while in our scheduled homeroom class?” The rest of the class members agree and look up expectantly at Aizawa who is struggling to climb into his sleeping bag.

“I’m tired and have nothing else to teach today,” he pauses before adding “besides it seems like most of you are “too distracted” this afternoon.” Finally in his sleeping bag he curls up and closes his eyes. The class slowly begins to gather their things and leave, but apparently not fast enough as aizawa’s voice rings though the room again “ Go get ready for tonight, I’m sure you’ll look totally cu~…….” his voice raised an octave, before he paused to cleared his throat “I’m sure you all want to look your best.”

“And you’re all too loud…….. Leave…….now.”

You looked around at your class, and everyone was staring at your teacher with varied expressions of shock, confusion, and a few horror. “I’ve never known aizawa-sensei to stay awake so long after getting in his sleeping bag” Momo says to Jiro as they leave. Mineta, still horrified, looks up to Kamanari “Was it just me or did Aizawa…sorta sound like a girl!”

“You think EVERYTHING is a girl” Kamanari retorts, chuckling as he leaves the classroom.

The rest of the class leaves the room in a similar fashion. The rest of the school day passes like normal, except maybe for when Bakugou didn’t yell at Deku in the lunch line, but that probably was just Kirishima’s influence, the more time the two of them spent together, the better bakugou's attitude was, Kirishima’s grades seemed to keep rising too. Before you knew it you were sitting on Momo’s monster of a bed with the rest of the 1-A girls, the difference between your room and Momo’s room couldn’t be any more obvious. Jealousy stabbed thought you, you didn’t mean to really, but it’s hard when you see more money in Momo’s dorm bedroom then your family had in their bank accounts combined, and it stung. You didn’t blame Momo, she didn’t choose her rich life any more than you choose to be born to poor parents. All you could think about was the countless times you skipped meals, or “forgot” about school trips, and all the other things you did to save money for your parents. Of course when they found out they were shocked, but you just reassured them that there was nothing you wouldn’t do for your family.

“So have you decided what costume you want Ochako?” Your head snaps up as Momo’s voice interiors your train of thought, “OH! Um, I was thinking about…….well maybe going as a witch?” You admit shyly. “Adorable” croaked Sue, “Omg! You're going to look so cute” Mina chimes in, “Your mystery mans not going to know what hit him!” Hagakure ads.

You feel your face heat up, betraying you as you look over the girls, you know that after tonight everything will be out in the open and different, and you're thankful that they’ve been so supportive of you and your secrets. “Guys! Stop!” You squeak,

“Okay, one witch costume coming right up” Momo says as she begins forming a dark material from her abdomen, “Do you want a hat too?” She questions.

Before long you're all dressed in your costumes, you look around and see Momo as the bride of Frankenstein, she must have talked to Present Mic to get her hair to stay up like that, you think to yourself. Mina’s in the 1-A cheer outfit from the sports festival, Hagakure is going as a skeleton, at first she wanted to just have the bones attached directly to her to look more realistic and spooky, but we very quickly reminded her that Mineta would be around and that idea changed real fast. Now she wore a black bodysuit that you and the girls had painted to look like a skeleton. Sue is looking festive as a pumpkin and Jiro is rocking a suit and tie demon look! You looked down at the costume Momo had made for you, of course it was super stylish, the orange top highlighting the rest of the black dress, you had pulled your short hair back into a small bun, leaving you bangs loose and completing the look with black tights and the tradition witches hat.

***

As you walked the now decorated halls of UA, the festival was just beginning, and there were people everywhere. Not surprisingly everyone was in costume, making it a little difficult to tell who was who. As you continued to walk down to your designated gym you swear you recognized the purple scar-like...makeup? under someone’s mask leading down his neck, he stood almost a head taller than you, but was lost to the crowd as quickly as you spotted him in the first place. “People are really going all out aren’t they?” You say to no one in particular.

As the class enters the “gym”, if it could even be called a gym anymore, given the schools money and use of quirks to completely change its every aspect to fit its needs. The wide room was dimly lit and the floor was covered in a thick fog that wafted around your legs as you walked through it, the wall’s had spider webs, fairy lights, and some cheesy halloween decorations, and the whole space was surprisingly beautiful. The girls were the first in and Mina and Hagakure were already running around the whole room squealing loudly, drawing a few laughs from the rest of the girls. That is until Mina tripped and fell with a scream and was swallowed by the smoke! “Mina!” You cry out as you run across the hall to see what happened to your friend.

“Oh my god what happened” you say as you reach the disturbed smoke, you squint and see Mina still on the ground, she sits up on your approach, “That was super weird, something tripped me but I don’t see anything?”

Suddenly whatever Mina had tripped over was sitting up and right in your faces, next thing you know you're looking right into two dead eyes and a face wrapped in cloth.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH” YOU, MINA AND HAGAKURE ALL SCREAM IN UNISON!

As you’re still trying to catch your breath you hear laughing from behind you, while you were running to Mina’s aid, the rest of your class had come in just in time to see the three of you scream right in your teachers face. “Mr. Aizawa I didn’t know you were going to dress up too” Jiro chuckles, reaching down to help Mina up. You look back at the cause of your fright and now can clearly see your teacher, Mr. Aizawa sitting up staring expectantly at you, and dressed up in a halloween costume no less. “BAHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA ROUND CHEEKS YOU SHOULD’VE SEEN YOUR FACE” you can still hear Bakugou howling in the background. Your face feels a million degrees hotter than it did two seconds ago, you look up and see a hand reaching down to help you up. It’s Deku.

You slowly reach for his hand, and he easily pulls you to your feet, “That looked like you were really surprised, are you okay?” he asked you earnestly, A blush dusting across his own face as he still holds your hand.

“God you're all so loud” Aizawa groans as he begins to stand up “but you're all here now, your individual class time is starting in two minuets, then after that you are all free to explore the festival.”

“Nice mummy costume Mr.Aizawa!” Denki calls after the retreating man, “wait, if he’s dressed up like a mummy, but he’s our class dad, what do we call him tonight?” you're not sure if he meant to say that out loud, but given the confused look on his face, when the class laughs and groans, you think that was supposed to stay a personal thought, not a public comment. Jiro Punches his shoulder, and only then do you notice that their costumes are matching, you look around the gym to finally look at everyone else, you see iida as some sort of patch work frankenstein, Todoroki is in a classic vampire costume, and looking like he just woke up, Bakugou surprisingly in a partnered costume, is a wolf. Kirishima looks to be his own twist on a little red riding hood, so he’s little Red Riot hood! And you finally look at the boy still holding your hand, And see he’s dressed up as a ghost.

“YEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!! WHOS READY FOR SOME SPOOOOOKY FUN!!” a voice far too loud for the space invades your ears, and instinctively you scramble to cover them as your eyes search for the loud offender. You see Present Mic standing across the room from the group and an angry Aizawa behind him. “Sorry Listeners!” he sheepishly responds “ NOW FOR THE NEXT TWO HOURS YOUR CLASS IS GONNA DANCE, GROOVE AND HAVE A SCARY GOOD TIME! AIZAWA AND I ARE GOING TO BE MONITORING THE DANCE FLOOR AND DOOR TO KEEP ALL YOU LISTENERS SAFE!” recovering quickly the blond continued to go though the rules of the night, and soon there is music flowing through the room.

Like all school dances at first people just milled around, But Mina and Mic very quickly got almost everyone up and moving around the dance floor and having a great time. You all learn some new dance moves, play a few games and generally enjoy the night, before you know it the two hours is almost over. You’re taking a break for a drink of water, you turn around and see all the girls surrounding you. “Uh, hi guys” you say awkwardly “what’s going on?”

“What’s going on is there’s about half an hour left and it’s time.” Hagakure is the first to speak.

“She's right, Ochako” Says Sue.

“You’ve got this dude, nothing to be scared of”’ Jiro speaks next

“We’re here for you, and this is for your own good” it’s Momo’s turn to encourage you.

“Look, the next song is going to be a slow song! You are going to go out there grab that boy, dance, confess, kiss, and basically live happily ever after!” Mina says finally.

You stare at all of them for a second, then two. You know deep in your heart this is your last chance. In those few seconds you swear your whole life flashed before you. And you make your choice.

“Okay.”

“No need to sound so somber!” “no matter what we love you!” “don’t worry, it’s going to be okay” the girls all group in tight to all hug you, all while telling you things would be okay, and you hugged them all back like it was the last one you’d get. All while trying to believe the words they said.

Slowly they all make their way back to the dance floor as the current song seems to be slowing down. A knock at the door calls Aizawa to answer, seeing as him and Mic were keeping track of who could come in and out for student safety. You watch as Aizawa looks through the small window and waves an okay to Present Mic. So you turn your attention back to the task at hand.

Just as Mina had said, once the upbeat song ended, a much softer and slower song started. You scanned the room, paying no mind to the new people Aizawa had let in, and watched as your classmates coupled up. All the girls had assured you if they started dancing with who you needed to talk to they would understand and let you take their place. But that didn’t appear to be necessary. Momo was dancing with todoroki, Sue with Tokoyami, Mina was causing a scene by stealing Kirishima from Bakugou, saying it was a school dance tradition that they share a dance. Hagakure and Ojiro were dancing quietly, and Denki looked like he was trying to convince Jiro not to be embarrassed, and she looked about two seconds away from actually dancing with him.

Leaving you.

Your eyes wandered the croud one last time, finally locking on the green eyed, green haired boy who had been taking up space in your mind for so long. You crossed the dance floor feeling like all eyes where on you, cheeks as red as can be, “May I have this dance?’’ You barely manage to whisper. You watch as his face lights up and blushes beet red at the same time.

“What! Are you sure? Seriously! Of course” he still looks shocked as you reach out your hand, he takes it. You feel your confidence rising as the two of you begin to dance. It’s blissful and calm for a minute, your hearts both beating a mile a minute, you take a deep breath and lean your head against his shoulder, slowing the dance to barely swaying side to side. “Deku, there’s something I need to get off my chest.” you begin quietly.

And he can only nod his head in response, you can only assume this is his first dance with a girl before.

The song is starting to slow and you know the end is coming, it’s time and you know it.

“Deku…...I…~”

Before you can finish your thought, the walls erupt with bright blue fire! Screams erupt from all around you as your class all jump to the middle of the room, with their retreat the fire starts to follow and spread to the floor circling the class!

“Mr.Aizawa!” Someone screams for help “EVERYONE AWAY FROM THE WALLS” comes another. “IS THIS REAL! IS THIS REAL OR TRAINING?” you hear as you watch the fire getting closer and closer

“EVERYONE GRAB HOLD” you scream as you hold out your hands! Desperate to get your friends away from the flames as quickly as possible. You feel hands clasp your own and see that everyone has grabbed onto each other. “URARAKA NOW!!” it’s Deku’s voice that breaks through. You activate your quirk and groan with effort and soon your whole class is suspended in mid air, it’s not a great solution, but it’s the only one you have at the moment as the fire covers the ground you were on seconds before.

“AIZAWA WHAT’S GOING ON '' you hear screamed from behind you, and you look down to see your teacher standing on the ground, the fire leaving a bubble around him and Present Mic on the ground at his feet. Whether he’s alive or dead you can’t tell, you didn’t even hear him go down. As your classmates watch in horror, Aizawa begins to smile, then laugh. The laugh doesn't match him though. It’s too high, too light, and too crazy.

As he begins laughing harder his whole being begins to melt.

The harder he laughs the more of him drips away, until nothing is left of your teacher and a small, naked blonde girl stands in his place.

As soon as you could recognise her as Himiko Toga from the league of Villains, the rest of your class could too. And just as your actual teacher instructed you, anyone who could, jumped into action as the rest of the attack party took their places beside her.

Bakugou, Todoroki and Tokoyami had the lead, seeing as they could maneuver best in the air.

“Kurogiri,” a deep voice calls out lazily, and in an instant anyone acting on their own was surrounded by black and purple smoke. You watched as your classmates struggled against their captor.

“STOP!” you command.

The power in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed as your classmates pause and even the villains stop their approach.

“Well well, looks like someone’s got balls” Dabi dralls “Kurogiri! Bring her closer.”

Before you can even think the dark smoke is forming around you, and quickly you’re covered and once your vision is returned to you, you’re face to face with the villain. He looks you up and down, skeptical, “and why would we stop doll?” He asks feigning innocence.

“Where’s our teacher? What did you do to Mic! WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM US!” your voice raises as you question the man. And he laughed, A deep low chuckle.

“Your teacher’s alive” the blonde, Toga replies still naked “ if that’s what you mean, he’ll probably be waking up any time now”

“God, cover up Crazy”

Dabi rolls his eyes, practically throwing his long coat at the girl.

“Too bad he won’t make it here in time” Dabi adds sinisterly. His eyes never leave yours, almost like he doesn't know what to make of you. “LET ME GO YOU SMOKY BASTARD” Bakugou screams, drawing your attention back to your class, he’s thrashing around and trying everything to escape and fight. You see the others, some struggling to move while weightless, other’s where still frozen.

“Let. Her. Go.”

It’s Deku. You meet his eyes, he’s managed to support himself midair and is aiming his hand ready to fire a powerful air blast directly at the villains. You quickly look at the rest of your class, no one else seems to be able to fight, they float aimlessly trying hard to just stay looking at you in the villain’s grasp.

“You want her?” Dabi laughs,

“Catch!” With that your still weightless body is thrown through the air directly at Deku, who barely has time to move to catch you. You land with a thud against his chest, immediately reaching your arms around his neck, “Are you okay?” he asks quickly, and you tighten your arms around him in response. “Why’d you throw her back?” whines Toga in the background, “She’s cute, I wanted to stab her” “Shut up Crazy, I wanna see something”

“Deku, Don’t fight back.” You whisper in his ear, Leaning away from him you look at the rest of the class all staring at you wide-eyed, “Everyone! Please don’t fight back!” you reach to cup the messy haired boy's cheeks, and he slowly starts to move lower to the ground under your touch…..

“There’s no use!” you continue, voice growing louder,

“You’ll never win.” You state plainly.

You turn your head to look back to Dabi, the flame villain, “Gimme some space.” you command. “Well I’ll be damned….” and just as requested the ground reappears beneath you, giving you just enough space on the singed ground for you to stand and Deku to lay, without being burned by the bright flames. You continue the motion, until Deku is flat on his stomach, letting him go, you stand straight and look over the people you once called your friends. “This is the only chance I can give you.” you begin, only to be quickly interrupted. “What are you talking about!” “Ochako what’s going on! What do you mean!” “NO!nonononononononono” and countless other things are all said at once by all your classmates. The other villains approach, until they are standing next to you. “Should I break the news to them?” Dabi asks sarcastically,

Ignoring the floating students you turn to face the taller man, “No it’s okay, besides I’m actually a little relieved they’re all so shocked”

“Hey, Ochako?” Toga piped in, turning your attention again, “What’s wrong with Izuku?”

She’s standing over the fallen hero-to-be. Poking him with her knife, not enough to actually stab him but beginning to draw blood from his exposed skin.

“He’s a threat if he can move, so I took care of it.” Silence. You realize, no one is talking, your classmates must finally understand the gravity of the situation.

“How Long?”

It’s Bakugou who breaks the silence, he must be thinking back to the training camp where he was kidnapped, it’s the only other time you’ve heard his voice so small. Ignoring them all you continue your well prepared speech. “As I was saying, This is the only chance I can give you.”

You state plainly, looking up at your stunned audience. “If you join us now and dedicate yourselves to Shigaraki, and bringing down our so-called hero society, I can spare you. Most of you have desirable quirks, and it would be a shame to lose them.”

“HOW FUCKING LONG”

You look up at Bakugou, pity in your eyes, the poor boy has been through so much, but you already knew he was one who would never give in, never submit to Shigaraki. “Since before I even enrolled in UA.” finally answering his question, you figure they deserve that much. “So yes I did know about the plan to kidnap you at our training camp, They tracked me, that's how they knew where we were. I even did my best to slow down your rescue party to make sure my team would succeed.” you see hatred in his eyes as you refer to the “villians” as your team.

“HOW COULD YOU!?” “THIS ISN’T REAL” “no…...it’s not true! IT CAN’T BE TRUE”

The whole class begins yelling their disbelief over each other. One voice in particular catches your attention, it’s only one word, barely more than a whisper. But it stabs through your heart nonetheless.

“Why?”

His eyes can only just reach yours, as Deku strains to move his head under the immense pressure holding him down, tears pouring as he repeats himself, “why?”

“I told you the first time you asked, don’t you remember Deku?” The rest of the class silences again to listen to every word you speak, still trying to wrap your heads around the fact that you are standing next the the “bad guys”

“Money, I need the money for my family. You’d think that in a world of Hero vs Villain, and with the abundance of collateral damage, a construction company would be able to afford a decent living. NO! My family had to suffer and struggle for years! no hero would help because we weren't being attacked, Banks wouldn’t do anything, NO ONE WOULD HELP US.” emotion filling your voice as you grow louder and louder. “No one. That is until I was contacted by someone who was willing to look under the surface of the “perfect” society and see what needed to change” sarcasm you’ve been hiding for so long finally breaches the surface, and as you press your hands together at your fingertips, all of your classmates begin to sink closer to the brilliant blue flames beneath them. “I actually have you to thank Deku. You see my employer kept a special eye on All Might, “the Number One Hero”, “The Symbol of Peace” Ugh” you groan in disgust, “We’ll my employer new All Might was getting older and weaker, so he would obviously be looking for a successor, and unlike my employer he didn’t start looking until the last minute, actually putting you in immense danger by the way.” laughing as you listen to the screams coming from your class as they get closer and closer to the flames.

“So when All Might started training a new successor for One for All, You all know about that right, Deku inherited All Might's power, that's why he was quirkless the rest of his life and why he kept breaking his bones. HE’S HAD A QUIRK FOR LESS THEN A YEAR AND HE’S ALREADY EITHER REACHED OR SUPPASSED MOST OF YOU! AND YOU’VE HAD YOUR QUIRKS FOR YOUR WHOLE LIVES!” letting your arms fall to your sides, as your classmates hover just over the fire.

“I’m getting off track, basically we knew we needed to shock this society to its core, and how better then to destroy its core. The prized hero school, the symbol of peace, the next generation.” you emphasize each word. “So I tried to make sure deku would get into UA, not that he needed my help, I also made sure he didn’t kill himself day one” you send a pointed look down at Deku and Bakugou. “I organized and planned from inside and made sure that my team had everything they needed to infiltrate UA. All while pushing my quirk and gaining control I couldn’t even imagine”

Coughing is all that comes from the students, the air too hot and filled with smoke. “Wanna wrap this up doll” Dabi points to the ceiling, the fire from the wall has almost completely covered the ceiling, the building is going to come down and you know it. “So how about it? Hero's” He sneers “Anyone going to take our generous offer?” Everyone is struggling now, no one wants this to be their end. But no one moves. Anyone who can just glares down, “Never.” “You’re not going to get away with this” “trator” they’ve all made their choices. Dabi turns to look at Shoto, who is still wrapped head to toe with Kurogiri’s smoke. “Really not even you, Baby brother?” Shoto’s eye’s widened in surprise. “You don’t want dear old dad to pay, pay for what he did to you,” he covers his left eye mimicking Shoto’s scar “ what he did to Touya?” gesturing to himself “What about what he did to our mother!” Shoto stays silent as ever, you turn to dabi “I think it's time to leave~” your cut off.

“Okay”

“What” you and Dabi say in unison, “I said okay” Shoto repeats “I’ll follow you, your right. Hero society does need to change.”

“Kurogiri bring him to us, doll go do your thing, crush him if he tries anything funny.” you walk over to where Shoto was being let down from Kurogiri’s grasp, reaching out to touch his face “like he said, try anything funny and your on the ground like roadkill” he nods in agreement and just next thing Shoto’s body was released from the fog, and true to his word. Shoto didn’t move. “Okay, I mean it this time, time to go. Kurogiri take us home.” the whooshing of Kurogiri’s warp gate behind you signals it's now or never. Ears finally fulling tuning in to the cries and coughs of your class, “Last chance” you say hopefully. “THEY’LL KNOW IT WAS YOU!” Mina, tears streaming down her face “YOUR BODY WON’T BE HERE! THEY’LL COME FOR YOU”

Tears welling up in your own eyes, as you say a silent goodbye, before composing yourself. “How will they tell, when all that's left is ash.” you say somberly “I told you, I’ve been doing this for a while, I won’t be caught so easily.” you sigh, this is turning out to be harder than you thought. You did care about all of your classmates, spending so much time getting to know them, you had hoped some of them would’ve seen your side of things, but you were out of time, Dabi’s brilliant blue flames now began to peak through the roof.

“Thank you though Mina, for convincing me it was time to confess.” you say half heartedly “I did really wish some of you would’ve joined”

As you stepped back, halfway through the warpgate you look back down into Izuku’s eye’s one last time and whisper “I’m sorry” before pressing your fingers together one last time and forcing everyone one to the ground, the warpgate closes around you and you can still hear their screaming ringing in your ears.

***

As you look around the unfamiliar bar, you see Shoto talking to Dabi looking the most engaged you’ve ever seen him. Kurogiri behind the bar standing, waiting. A few others milled around, and Toga came bounding up to you as you reached up to your face, wiping tears you didn’t know were falling. “You okay Ochako? I can call you that right? Now that you're officially here?!” She says excitedly. “God it’s so nice to have another girl here since we lost big sis mag”

Quickly wiping your eyes “I’ll be okay, don’t worry, it’s just a silly crush”

#my hero academia #bnha #bnha traitor #mha traitor #server collab #mha ochako #ochako POV

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dailymallek · 4 years

Text

Wasn’t sure what you meant by The Party, but I assumed Ardata’s?

Mallek sat outside the small apartment building in his car. He was slumped in his seat, periodically checking his phone. He’d been asked by Diemen to take him to a party. He knew it was part of his friend’s attempts to make Mallek more social.

Mallek had agreed to provide a ride, he had nothing else going on and liked to help out. But he wasn’t going to fall for the obvious trap and actually attend the party with Diemen.

Mallek huffed as he glanced back at the apartment complex. He’d arrived at the agreed upon time – give or take 5 minutes – and had not heard from Diemen even after sending him a text that he’d arrived. With nothing better to do, Mallek found himself scrolling through twitter, not really paying attention or taking any of it in.

Mallek bounced his leg in anticipation and as he was starting to read a long post from a favorite programmer a loud THUMP against the side of his car caused him to jump. With a quick turn Mallek found himself staring at Diemen’s face, squished against his window.

Mallek scowled and Diemen – still pressed to the window – asked, “Did I scare you?!”

“Everyone gets scared when they see your face.” Mallek muttered, unlocking the door and allowing his friend in. Diemen snickered to himself as he settled in the seat.

“Where is this party of yours?” Mallek asked, pulling away once Diemen had fastened his seat belt.

“Tell you in a minute, we have to stop at the store first.” Diemen leaned forward in his seat, cycling through the radio stations as he spoke.

“For what?” Mallek asked, following the familiar route to the store by Diemen’s.

“Stuff.” Diemen settled back in his seat, content with his music choice – a popular pop music station.

Mallek frowned at the choice but chose not to say anything, he knew he had to choose his battles. The two rode in a comfortable silence as they approached the store. Mallek made the turn and as he passed by the front entrance, eyes scanning for a parking spot, Diemen shouted;

“STOP!”

Mallek jumped and pressed hard on the brake, looking around for what he may have almost hit.

“Cool wait here.” Diemen reached for his seat belt as Mallek realized he had not endangered anyone.

“What? I can’t park here.” Mallek insisted, gripping the wheel tighter as his friend unbuckled.

“Just wait here!” Diemen insisted, opening the door before Mallek had come to a complete stop.

“Die…Die I can’t- “

The door slammed and Mallek groaned. He watched as his friend ran into the store and disappeared down the aisles.

Mallek huffed and glanced around. He couldn’t park in the fire lane and he worried if he parked somewhere else Diemen wouldn’t be able find him. With a sigh Mallek began his laps around the parking lot, eyes trained on the door, waiting for Diemen to re-appear.

Mallek felt himself relaxing as he did slow circles, changing the music Diemen had put on to something he enjoyed. Mallek let out a sigh as he felt his shoulders relax. He’d always liked driving. He preferred boarding of course, but there was something powerful and freeing about cars. He liked being able to fill it with what he wanted and go where he pleased. He’d considered converting a van but knew he would never be able to work with the shoddy connections that would come with it.

As Mallek drove he glanced down, hearing his phone vibrate. Mallek picked it up and glanced at the sender – his eyes going between the screen and the parking lot. He grinned when he saw who sent it. He’d been talking to someone recently and while he never thought of himself as a relationship guy, there was something about this person that got him feeling some type of way. He grinned and sent back a snappy reply before dropping his phone back into his center counsel.

Mallek was still smiling as he rounded the corner again towards the entrance. As the door came into view, Mallek’s eyes widened. He slammed on the brakes as Diemen ran in front of his car.

“Go go GO!” Diemen demanded flinging the door open and all but throwing himself into the car.

“What the hell is going on?” Mallek demanded, but listening to his friend. Diemen barely had time to shut the door behind him as Mallek pressed hard on the gas and heard the tires squeal as they pulled away from the store.

Diemen turned in his seat to watch behind them for a moment before letting out a breath of relief. He grinned widely and turned back with a little cheer. Before Mallek could ask again what was going on Diemen pulled from his sweater pocket 3 packs of hot dogs. Mallek glanced over and scowled as Diemen then pulled 2 packs of buns from inside his shirt.

“Did you steal those?” Mallek asked, his eyes glancing between Diemen and the road.

It wasn’t that Mallek had a problem with theft per-se. He understood people had needs and stores often partook in outrageous price gouging. A few hot dogs wouldn’t hurt the corporation but not being aware of a plan could get him or others hurt.

“You know how it goes.” Diemen responded switching the radio back to the pop station and turning the volume up. He sat back in his seat and began opening the package of hot dogs.

Mallek watched, disgusted from the corner of his eye. He’d seen this many times before, but he couldn’t stop from asking, “Are you going to eat those cold?”

“Nothing wrong with a chilly sausage snack.” Diemen muttered as he pulled from his pants pocket a bottle of mustard. “Want one?” Diemen offered, opening a bun and placing one wet link of meat onto it.

Mallek had to hold back a gag shaking his head no.

Diemen shrugged and squirted a liberal amount of mustard onto his dog before taking a bite. Diemen sighed through his nose feeling his whole body relax as he chewed. There was nothing better than a hot dog on a drive with a buddy. Why the only thing that would be better if that buddy was also enjoying a nice pi-

“Where are we going?” Mallek demanded, interrupting Diemen’s thoughts.

Through a mouth still full of half chewed bun and meat Diemen answered, “Ardata’s.”

Mallek’s frown deepened and his grip on the wheel tightened. He knew full well where she lived. They had been neighbors most his young life. Mallek took a steadying breath in and focused on the road in front of him. He hated that neighborhood. The large houses, expansive lawns, and long driveways always made his stomach turn.

Mallek had been born into a well off family, and while he’d spent much of his youth enjoying his parent’s money, as he’d grown older and seen the unfairness in the world, the differences in socioeconomic classes, and how people were treated based off of how rich they looked he’d grown to hate it.

Mallek had left his parent’s not long after turning 18, he’d certainly used their money to go to school, but the legal degree he’d said he was getting was replaced with basic programming and computer science classes. Mallek had picked up a few skills in high school but wanted to hone them to help as many of his friends as he could.

Mallek had renounced his parents at the ripe age of 20 and, as he had expected, was cut off. He wasn’t destitute of course. He’d taken money from his joint account into a private one to cushion him as he found a job. With his computer skills it didn’t take long for him to get a basic IT job. It was easy enough and gave him plenty of free time to continue to work on his hacking and programming.

Mallek hadn’t been in this neighborhood since going away to school, but that didn’t mean he didn’t still remember it. He’d spent most of his childhood staring out the window and being forced to interact with other rich kids in the area. Ardata had lived three houses down and her parents were friends with Mallek’s. The two of them had never gotten along and had less in common than bricks and Doritos.

Mallek wondered if his parent’s house had been changed. He wondered if-

“Yeah, you got that yummy, yummy, yummy yum!” Diemen’s shrill voice cut through Mallek’s ruminating thoughts and caused him to involuntarily snort. Diemen was not a singer, and his mouth still had bits of hot dog in it. Mallek was torn between annoyance at the increased mess in his car and utter joy at how horrendous a job Diemen was doing.

Mallek gave into the humor of it and snickered. “Jesus, Diemen, no wonder no one invited you to join choir…those aren’t even the right words.”

Diemen snorted. “And how would you know?”

Mallek’s eyes widened as he realized his mistake; he bit his cheek trying to think of a comeback. Diemen didn’t give him much chance to before launching back into the chorus.

Mallek couldn’t help but grin and join in, everyone knew this song. Together the boys sang loudly to the cheesy pop hit; “Yeah, you got that yummy, yum, That yummy, yum yeah, yummy, yummy!”

Diemen’s smile split across his face as he watched his friend’s blasé façade break down for a moment. Diemen sang along loudly to the radio, challenging Mallek to out sing him.

Mallek took the bait and as the two all but yelled along to the song, they found themselves dancing as well. Mallek’s shoulders bounced arrhythmically and he looked over to Diemen who was facing forward his hands moving to and from his chest with a head bob.

As the two drove along, they found themselves getting too into the performance. Diemen’s gaze shifted to the window and widened in shock. He shouted, “STOP!” Instinctively pressing himself into his seat and away from the window

Mallek’s foot hit the break before his head completely turned towards the source of Diemen’s panic. The car squealed to a stop, both boys jolting forward. Diemen’s hot dog loosened from his grip and hit the windshield with a splat, spreading mustard all over the window.

From the other side of the windshield a deer stood, staring at them. There was a momentary pause before the deer, with one flick of its tail, calmly walked away.

Both boys sat, frozen in their seats, attempting to catch their breaths. Diemen’s air flow stuttered as he stared tearfully at the loss of his snack. Mallek’s chest continued to rise and fall quickly, the fear mingling with the annoyance at the mustard on his window.

A few more seconds passed, the only sound filling the empty space coming from the radio. It took the jingle for a local restaurant to break the tension. Both men dissolved into a fit of laughter as the nerves gave way to anxious giggles.

It took another few minutes for the laughter to subside. And with an exaggerated look around, Mallek finally took his foot off the brake and allowed the car to slowly roll forward. As the car made its way down the road, Mallek felt his heart rate slow as the journey continued.

Beside him, Diemen huffed and muttered to himself about the waste as he prepared himself a new hot dog. Mallek couldn’t suppress the snicker and Diemen smiled to himself as he bit down on the fresh dog.

The rest of the ride was filled with easy conversation about work and personal projects, Mallek felt himself relax as he fell back into the comfort of his friend’s jokes. He had almost forgotten where they were going, until Mallek made the turn into his old neighborhood. Diemen glanced over at his friend who had stopped responding. Diemen frowned to himself as he watched Mallek’s jaw clench and knuckles tighten.

Diemen pressed on to keep talking, hoping it would be enough to keep Mallek grounded and distracted not to have a panic attack. He knew about Mallek’s past and they both knew Mallek’s parents had moved out of this neighborhood when Mallek had gone away to school. He knew the risk he had taken by asking Mallek to come. But he also knew that Mallek was needlessly afraid of something that couldn’t get him anymore.

As the car pulled up to Ardata’s house, Mallek couldn’t stop from commenting about how it looked just as gaudy as he remembered it. Diemen snorted and agreed looking across the lawn at the amount of people spilling from the door and sitting on the grass. Mallek pulled up to the curb, parking at the end of the driveway and staring at the gathered crowd.

“Well…we’re here.” Mallek muttered feeling his stomach turn.

“Thanks man.” Diemen held his hand up for a high five. As Mallek went to give him one, Diemen was able to slip a plain dog and bun between their hands. “For the ride.” Diemen sighed with a forlorn look at the slightly squished hot dog in Mallek’s hand.

Mallek frowned and shook his head. He knew how to choose his battles. “What time do you want me to pick you up?”

Diemen paused mid un-buckling. “Aren’t you coming in?”

Mallek gave the large house an uneasy look. “I’ve got better things to do tonight.”

Diemen snorted. “No, you don’t. Come inside for five minutes. Some of my friends think I make you up.”

“I’m busy tonight.” Mallek muttered again as his phone buzzed. He absentmindedly opened the message and saw a photo of himself and Diemen in his car. The picture had clearly been taken from the house they were parked in front of. Below was the message: ‘you coming in?’ Mallek glanced at the sender and felt his face heat up. They were here too. He heard Diemen snicker and when he turned with a dirty look there was a grin splitting the shorter man’s face.

Mallek huffed and put his phone away. “Five minutes.” He muttered moving out of the car and ignoring the cheer from his companion. Mallek took a bite of the hot dog as he realized he fell for his friend’s scam.

#mallek #Mallek adalov #homestuck #hiveswap #hiveswap friendsim #writing #mod pop #'who is they' you ask?#whoever you want!#maybe it's you!#maybe it's someone else!#go nuts

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thedefinitionofbts · 4 years

Text

Upon Your Existence (3)

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3

Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x Reader (ft. the rest of BTS)

Genre: Science Fantasy, Angst, Apocalypse Au

Words: 7K

Description: …and so they just meet each other in these stories written inside these worlds built in their minds. Of course some will be sad, and others happy, but that’s just the way the universe is…chaotic, imperfect, but magnificently beautiful.

You’ll always remember his eyes, a pair of dark obsidian orbs, cloudy and unreadable to many but to you they were always crystal clear like the polycrystalline structure of black diamonds.

“Hurry, we need to go!” He beckons urgently as you remained huddled in the corner of your bedroom closet, arms wrapped around your legs and chin resting on the caps of your knees.

“Where’s mommy and daddy?” You peer up at your older brother, eyes wide and stricken with fear.

It was already dark outside. The bright glow of blue and red lights flicker through the glass windows, ricocheting off the walls of the room your parents once read you bedtime stories in. You can hear the voices of police officers and military personnel through the loud speakers, advising everyone to evacuate the city.

“They’re waiting for us, come on.” Yoongi responds more softly, flashing you a tender smile, one that you have witnessed more than anyone else, giving you more than enough strength to latch on to his extended hand.

You were just nine years old when news of the first outbreak was broadcasted over the television. At the time, it had not occurred to you how strange it all was, or perhaps it did, but it was all too confusing to even begin questioning any of it. You knew nothing about viruses or the spread of diseases in general, but after moving to the designated “safe haven” for your district and continuing your education through your teens, some things have naturally come to light.

Like back in high school chemistry, when your teacher demonstrated the effects of acid on protein to show students how you could go blind if it got in your eye. It was simply to remind everyone to wear goggles, but you’ll never forget the way the drop of HCl seared the egg white, making the fluid bubble up and solidify instantly. You imagine the virus doing the same to human flesh, only with a more complicated mechanism that had less to do with altering the structure of existing proteins and more to do with actually changing gene expression.

It only takes one person. One mutation. One strand of viral DNA to contaminate it all.

It almost sounded too easy, and though the official announcement stated the virus originated in the jungle off the coast, countless people had suspected it was actually developed by the government, a biological weapon gone awry. It wasn’t until over a decade later that it became quite clear, though still unofficial since the elite would never admit to such a horrendous act publicly, that everything was more or less planned as a means to control the population.

So no, the virus did not entail the end of the world. The world government had actually done a pretty job controlling it. How could they not since they planned it all anyways? But of course, if the world wants to end, it’ll find a way to end.

That, you had also learned through a news broadcast.

“Karma” Hoseok exhales, twisting the key and turning off the engine.

“Hoseok, it’s not Karma if the top 1% still survive.” Yoongi mumbles, stepping out of the passenger door and stretching out his back.

“The biggest fuck you would be if the comet just disintegrates right before it strikes.” Hoseok scoffs. “If only…”

You ponder the possibility of this all being a false positive. “Maybe it’ll miss Earth, and everyone will have evacuated the planet for no reason at all.” It’s a joke, but not the funny kind. You know it’s impossible, but you didn’t really say it for the purpose of anyone agreeing with you or even refuting the statement, considering the nonexistent possibility.

“Maybe…” Hoseok exhales, not entirely paying attention to what he was even responding to but rather just blankly gazing at the open field with its tall grasses swaying in the wind.

Yoongi remains silent. He has been the whole trip for the most part, and in a way, his nonchalance was peaceful and reassuring as it had always been for you growing up.

But this is it. This is where you part ways.

It’s a strange feeling, really. You’ve always imagined this moment to be more emotionally overwhelming, saying goodbye to your brother forever and all. He was the only person you’d ever really trusted, and the only other person who has felt like the closest thing to home, a place that never really existed, and even if it did, it won’t for long. Maybe habituation, or months of convinced acceptance has left you numb, or maybe it's the effect of building something so much up in your head that the actual experience doesn’t live up to what you’ve expected all this time.

“Are you sure?” Yoongi’s voice is low and subdued. He doesn’t make eye contact as he awaits your response, and perhaps it’s because he’s never questioned your personal decisions or the fact that he’s directly expressing his concern for you that you find yourself hesitating for the first time in months.

Did he invite you on this trip hoping you would change your mind in the end?

The thought makes your heart clench, and you have to tell yourself you’re overanalyzing. Yoongi wasn’t the kind to hint at what he wanted. He always directly expressed his thoughts no matter how offensive or uncalled for they are. You’ve always admired him for that sort of bravery, so it wouldn’t make sense for him to change now. Besides, you had made up your mind half a year ago, ever since you saw the timer flash across the T.V. screen.

Six months was how long they gave the general population to decide. Either you were rich enough to leave earth or you had to come to terms with the end. They had known about it years in advance, and though it’s unclear whether or not the planned viral outbreak was related to the detection of the comet’s trajectory, what’s undeniable is that they had kept everyone in the dark to avoid chaos.

You had no interest in space, nor did you want to be a part of a system so cruel. Yoongi didn’t either, not initially, but you weren’t going to blame him for meeting a boy who was the literal manifestation of the sun, someone who could make his heart beat in ways it never did.

“Your spot will always be open” Hoseok chimes in with his bright sunshine of a smile, and you can almost feel a fraction of what Yoongi feels when he sees it too.

“There’s more I want to see before it’s too late.” It’s not like you were alone. There were millions of other people staying on the planet- those who couldn’t afford a ticket on the escape ship.

Yoongi nods lightly, turning to walk up the steps to join Hoseok, who was already at the top still looking at you standing below, perhaps also hoping you would change your mind. Even now, you can see the softness in the latter’s eyes, the tangibility of the warmth that he radiates, and you have no trouble understanding why your bother fell for him.

And that’s the last image you see of the two. Hoseok’s melancholic gaze and the slight upturn of Yoongi’s lip as the doors close.

…

There’s a certain kind of calmness that accompanies solitude, even when the entire world is ready to burst under suppressed chaos. There’s also a strange detachment that comes with wanting to do everything while at the same time not wanting to do anything at all because none of it mattered anymore.

Stepping onto the train, you immediately get a whiff of the stench of sweat and body odor, the kind that tells you you’re not the only one who thought spending the next few days just gazing at the world was a good way to ride through the end. Most of the seats were taken, homeless people with all their bags large and small, scattered across the floor. You almost trip on someone’s sleeping bag as you navigate down the aisle, looking for a less crowded cart, which you are fortunate enough to find just as the train begins to move.

Settling down in the seat closest to the window, you momentarily let your eyes dwell on someone sitting a couple seats away. His attention was focused on the scenery outside, but he somehow sensed the weight of your scrutiny as he turns just as you were about to lean to get a better view.

You barely avert your gaze before he catches you staring, though you’re pretty sure he noticed because the next thing you know, he’s made his way over and is now seated across from you. Despite the sudden proximity and the bout of nerves it has initiated, you choose to keep your attention pointed at the passing scenery now zipping by in parallel with the train’s increasing speed.

“Gorgeous, isn’t it?” His voice is light with a deep, husky undertone that glides through the air.

You look up to find that he isn’t even looking out the window. You swallow, finding it bizarre that he’s staring at you so intently. “Indeed.”

“Traveling?”

You nod.

“Going anywhere in particular?” He tilts his head curiously; a motion almost child-like in nature and it makes you relax for the first time since you started this solo venture.

“Nope.”

He smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges. “So your plan was to just sit on this train and look out the window?”

“Pretty much, yeah” You shrug, sensing your anxieties dissipate as he does not seem to pose a threat of any kind.

He chuckles softly. “But don’t you want to go out there and really feel the earth. Really experience being alive on this planet one last time?”

“It’s dangerous.”

“It’s the end of the world. What do you have to lose?”

He was right, and your excuses don’t even sound convincing to yourself anymore.

“So what exactly are you proposing?”

“This train loops around the entire continent. I say we get off at each stop and do one thing we’ve always wanted to do.”

“We?” You’re thrown off by how easily he placed the word in his sentence. How he didn’t even hesitate to include you in his spur of the moment proposal.

He nods.

“Together?” You ask again, still skeptical.

He laughs softly; looking down and back up again with a playful smirk.

“What if we want to do different things?” You counter, still unsure why you are playing along with this stranger who hasn’t even introduced himself.

“Ok. We’ll get off at each stop and do one thing you’ve always wanted to do.”

“You’re sure putting a lot of bets on someone you don’t even know.” You comment, waiting to see how he’s going to react.

There’s a peculiar look in his eyes, one that speaks of anticipation precipitously lost to the wind. He drops his gaze momentarily, smiling to himself before looking up at you once more.

“Or you could say I’m going all in on someone I would like to get to know.” There’s cheerfulness in his voice that you haven’t heard in a long time, an unfamiliar yet heart racing aura of beginnings rather than the familiar imminent end that has surrounded your life for months. It makes you smile, but you can’t help but notice the sad glint in his eyes merely seconds before it’s gone.

“I…actually haven’t really thought about what I want to do.” You confess, diverting your attention to the landscape outside. Your life had always been planned. Whether it was wandering down paths that others had led you towards or the world leaving you no alternative option, you had never been offered the freedom of uninhibited choice. It was like the events had already been written, and you were just living it out like a character in a story everyone already knows the end to.

“Maybe you shouldn’t think about it.” His voice startles you, making you realize you had paused mid conversation.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve found that overthinking leads to indecisiveness.” He tilts his head, analyzing your reaction as if waiting for a specific response.

“I’m not indecisive, and I don’t overthink.” You deny, despite knowing full well you are and have always been.

He doesn’t look convinced. “Ok, then you’re afraid of regrets?”

“I’m just…I dunno…scared?”

He nods, displaying that he understands what you mean. “But you are here now, so you must’ve found some source of courage.”

You wouldn’t really consider your decision to stay on earth courageous. To you it was more like the final act of rebellion you had the chance of carrying out, not that you ever came close to rebelling in the past.

“Well?” The train has stopped, and you can tell he’s waiting for you to decide to get off with him or not.

It’s not forceful or pressuring in anyway, but communicates an air of patience you find to be very comforting. And there’s something about the way he speaks to you, the way he gauges your response as if he already knows what you’re about to say that inclines you to believe he knows more about you than logically possible for someone you just met. Maybe you were just easy to read, or this guy is just really good at reading social cues. Whatever it may be, you had two seconds to make your decision, and if the past has taught you anything, you already know that there’s no turning back.

…

Getting off the train, you’re surprised by the number of people still around and the cultural music dancing through the air. You expected the city to be less crowded and the mood to be more somber, a scene that makes the end of the world more obvious, in what way you weren’t sure, but definitely nothing close to what you were currently presented.

“They’re just here, like us, enjoying these last days.” He blinks slowly, somehow able to tell that the scene has left you dumbfounded.

“I guess I just expected something different” You reply, still looking around at the people laughing and chatting away in the outdoor seating areas of restaurants and coffee shops.

“Only 1% of the population left, and most of them probably didn’t live in old towns like this.” He glances at you from under the sunhat he had put on right after exiting the train.

His response puts a smile on your face. A picture of a smiling Hoseok and Yoongi flashes through your mind as you are remembered how they spoke about the privileged. It had been a long time since your mood has felt this light.

“So are you going to properly introduce yourself? Or am I going to have to ask you questions?” You narrow your eyes, feeling mischievous all of a sudden.

He laughs, eyes crinkling at the edges again. “It’s the end of the world. I could tell you anything and it wouldn’t even matter.” He skips a few feet ahead of you before twirling around and offering you his hand.

You’re surprised by your own lack of hesitation as you reach out almost instinctively.

“Wow, that was easier than expected.” He comments, referring to how quickly you accepted his offer compared to your obvious indecision back on the train, eyes almost wide as he gives your hand a light squeeze, making sure that it was indeed real, and his eyes weren’t just playing tricks on him.

“It’s the end of the world.” You shrug, repeating the words he had been reiterating since the two of you met. An unfamiliar fullness engulfs your heart, and you wonder if the boy next to you feels it too. You don’t remember the last time you had held someone’s hand like this or if you had ever held a hand that fit to yours so perfectly.

“Jungkook.” He suddenly breathes out, probably noticing the way you’ve been staring at your interlinked hands like he would suddenly let go or disappear into thin air.

“Huh?” You look up almost dazed.

“My name. It’s Jungkook.” He smiles, gripping your hand a bit tighter.

“Oh, um, I’m Y/N.” You response almost awkwardly, unprepared for his sudden revelation of sorts, trying to recall why the name seemed familiar while at the same time knowing with the utmost certainty you had never known a person with that name.

He bobs, the expression on his face making you almost suspect that this wasn’t new information to him.

“So what would you like to do, Miss Y/N?” He gestures at the completely foreign town, the lake and mountains not too far in the distance.

“I don’t know.” You reveal truthfully, not having thought this far yet. You were kind of just banking on intuition, but you were so caught up analyzing him along with your own shifting disposition that you hadn’t actually thought about the actual world and what you wanted to do. “With the virus and all, I had never made a bucket list or anything. I just assumed I would never get a chance to come to places like this anyways.”

“Even when it was nearly eradicated?”

“Then came this whole comet ordeal.” You sigh. “End of the world, remember?”

“Not like I could forget.” He starts swinging your interlinked arms causally. “Shall we just walk around then? Explore some abandoned buildings that may or may not be haunted.”

“You can’t seriously believe in ghosts, can you?” You cock a brow. “In this day and age?”

He cackles. “I was just testing you.”

“Sure you were” You flash him the look, but it doesn't last before you’re consumed by his contagious laughter.

It wasn’t long before the two of you stumble upon a rather decent looking lodging facility, not that you were looking for anything fancy. The walls were made of stone, a suitable complement to the cobblestone roads you had been walking along since leaving the train station, with ivy crawling up the sides and lining the windows. The building gave off the impression that it was an affordable choice for two broke travelers, not that money really mattered anymore.

“We should probably put some of our stuff down and explore the city.” Jungkook suggests, looking up from the map on his phone.

You exhale slowly, almost having forgotten how heavy your backpack weighed on your shoulders. The sun had moved to the middle of the sky, causing beads of sweat to form and start sliding down your forehead. It wasn’t extremely hot, but you had opted to wear a few extra layers in an attempt to keep your bags a bit lighter.

Following him into the lobby, you don’t expect Jungkook to arrange a room for you as well, but he comes back with two keys to two separate rooms.

“Thanks” You voice softly as hands one of them to you.

“It would probably be safer to stay in the same room, but I don’t want you to think I’m some perverted stalker trying to take advantage of you.”

You smirk before failing to contain your own laughter. “I already assumed you were.”

He rolls his eyes. “Just let me know if you need anything, ok?”

You nod, glancing at him one last time before heading towards your room. He seemed concerned, or his mind was thinking about something else.

The room smelled moist and musky, with an almost rotten scent, like it hadn’t been cleaned in quite some time. Not that you were expecting some pristine hotel room or sterilized classroom like the facilities back in the cities during the viral outbreak, but it was pretty clear the place hadn’t been tidied in weeks. The bed sheets were unwashed, and the trash bins hadn’t even been emptied.

You walk over to open a window, hoping the air outside would somehow neutralize the pungent odor. Just as you were contemplating going over to suggest exploring the markets, you hear a knock at your door.

“Who is it?” You call out, hoping that it was just Jungkook coming back to check up on you.

There’s no answer, but you can hear the pounding get louder, like whoever was on the other side was trying to break down the door. There’s a loud crack as the wooden door pane splinters, the rusty knob just falling off and rolling across the floor. You’re frozen in place, eyes full of fear as you stare at the large man standing at the entrance.

He slowly walks towards you with a frown on his face, blocking your view of the hallway and only escape.

Before you could scream, you hear a loud bang and the next thing you know, the man was on the ground. Your eyes immediately dart up and to your uttermost relief, you see Jungkook with a lamp clasped in his hand, eyes wide with alarm.

“We need to get out of here” He exhales, quickly grabbing your hand and making a run for it.

You don’t get a chance to look back, all you can focus on is keeping up with Jungkook’s speed as he leads you back out to the street and navigates through the crowds of people.

“Wha-how did you…?” You look at him and back in the direction the two of you ran from, mind still reeling from the hasty course of events.

“It was my bad really, I should’ve know most places aren’t safe anymore.” He shakes his head, looking around at the people still gathered in large crowds when you’re finally at a safe distance from the lodge. “Maybe that’s why everyone is here out in the open.”

“Hey, it’s ok, we’re fine and there’s only like three weeks left anyways” You give his hand a tight squeeze, unsure of why you felt so compelled to make him feel better. Perhaps it was the sadness in his eyes, something you can’t seem to ignore because it looked so familiar yet you’re unable to comprehend it fully.

He sighs. “Three weeks…are you the type who prefers to count down?”

You want to forget about it, to not be constantly reminded that the world you once knew is gone and these last moments will soon be swallowed in the same way. But no matter how hard you try to ignore the thought, it’s always there at the back of your mind, a subconscious countdown that keeps showing up intermittently.

“I just want to be as prepared as possible, and I don’t like surprises.”

“Somehow that’s not so surprising.” He smiles for the first time in a while, and you don’t miss the hint of playfulness in his words. It’s reassuring and quells some of your anxiety.

“You don’t seem to mind this whole ordeal.” You suddenly blurt out. Ever since you met this dark haired doe-eyed Jungkook, he’s seemed so…okay with everything, like the end of the world was some kind of adventure and not a dark and dreary end to existence.

He cocks a brow. “Almost getting us into some deep shit back there?”

“No, the fact that we have three weeks left, and then it’s over.” You exhale, letting out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding in for so long and finally feeling that weight being lifted off your chest.

His features relax as he turns to face you. “I’m looking forward to what lies beyond the end and in the meantime, making the most of what we are given now.”

You don’t quite understand what he means, and there are so many questions you want to ask, but the determined look in his eyes makes you wonder if you’re missing something deeper, something he wants to convey but is waiting for you to reach your own conclusion.

“Beyond the end?”

He chuckles lightly. “Like how people say endings give birth to new beginnings?”

“You sound like my mom.” You huff, knowing that he’s just playing around again and avoiding the real answer to your question.

“Do you miss her?” He suddenly asks.

“She was never really around much. Neither was my dad.” There’s an extended pause as Jungkook waits for you to continue, almost like he senses there’s more you want to say. “My brother Yoongi was my rock, the only person in my life that I could turn towards for guidance like an actual parental figure. My parents were loving and all, but being adopted, they were just nice picture parents. They didn’t offer me the kind of depth I needed. And my brother, you know, was older and I’m sure he didn’t think much of it at the time, but his advice was something I always took seriously, whether it was subconscious or not. His opinions impacted a lot of my decisions in life…” You trail off, thinking back to all the decisions you had made because Yoongi had expressed some form of bias towards it and still question to this day if they were the right ones. It’s not like you had that many regrets, but you can’t help but wonder if your life would’ve turned out differently had you made more choices independently. “You know I could’ve just said fuck it and did the thing I actually wanted to do.”

“Well, here’s your chance.”

…

The two of you decide that the safest place to sleep is the train.

Though it was often crowded and smelled of human sweat, it was still better than figuring how to set up a tent or having to climb a tree. And after the incident at the lodge, neither of you really wanted to risk it again. Besides, spending one or two days in one city is more than enough to grab some local food and do some sightseeing. You also realize that all of the towns sort of start blending into one another, like the days you’re still trying not to countdown. You’ve gotten to the point where it doesn’t bother you as much, at least not when you’re with traveling with someone you’ve grown too fond of too quickly, but in the best way ever.

“I guess I really didn’t think any of this through, but none of it really matters now, does it?”

You were trailing behind him in the orchard, the sun’s rays filtering through the leaves casting moving patterns on the ground. Spending the past few days visiting gardens and vineyards had been more fun than you had expected. The fruit was sweet and the flowers were bright and lively. Each farm you visited looked to stretch on for miles and miles, twisting and twirling along the hills and rivers. You had always been told that beauty existed in the most unexpected of places, and you were finally given the chance to witness it for yourself.

“You know there’s no point in living every day thinking about the fact that you’re going to die anyways.” He takes a bite of the apple he just picked off of one of the lower branches of the tree. The sound so crisp and juicy, you can feel your mouth salivating.

You release a light chuckle. “You’re telling me this when it’s literally the end of the world?”

He turns to toss you an apple. “I’m advising you to stop thinking about endings.”

Catching it in your hands, you stare at the intermingled colors for a moment, red, yellow, and a tad bit of green merging but never really mixing to become one. Taking a bite you realize its sweetness is lace with a tangy after taste, like those bittersweet endings you’ve come to know so well.

“I used to come to these places filled with so many thoughts on how to remember the details that I forget to enjoy the actual experience.” You pause, taking the time to decide if you wanted to continue.

Jungkook doesn’t make a sound, no signal to hint that he was going throw in commentary or interrupt your train of thought. You turn to glance at him, wondering if he’s wrapped in his own contemplation, only to find that he just looking at you, staring so intently you have to look away as you feel the blood rush to face.

“You’re still afraid of losing your memories, huh?”

It leaves his lips as a whisper, so soft that you are compelled to believe he was just mumbling to himself. You want to linger over his interesting choice of words, but you try not to think much of it and continue.

“So I tried to reason that if the journey is what we should be focusing on, I should just set goals that I’ll never reach. That way I wouldn’t have to deal with endings or being directionless in life.” You laugh. “And of course that backfired.”

“Continuously chasing after something you’ll never obtain?” He tilts his head towards the sun, closing his eyes for a brief moment.

You observe his side profile, visually drawing the outline of his silhouette and carving the image of his physical form into your brain knowing that it will last only as long as the end of time will allow.

“I just don’t like endings…or goodbyes…or even the thought that this is all there is to it.” You murmur, shifting your eyes back to the ground.

“There’s always more too it than you think.”

“And then I read somewhere that people don’t remember what you do but they remember how you made them feel.” You don’t know where you’re going with your outburst of thoughts, and maybe the diminishing days are convincing you to let it all out before it’s too late no matter how nonsensical everything you are saying is.

The breeze blowing by emphasizes the brief silence that follows, in which only the gentle rustling of leaves can be heard. You don’t know what else to say. You’ve never gotten this far in a conversation where your thoughts have been unhindered and you hadn’t planned an entire speech out. At this point you’re just waiting for him to respond, to tell you that you should stop thinking about uselessly irrelevant things or at least question why you’re telling him all this.

You watch as he turns to face you, not having realized you had closed the distance between you whilst ranting. He was so close you can almost feel the light brush of his shirt as it lifts up slightly in the wind and the heat of his body radiating off his smooth skin. His gaze is distracting. It’s something you’ve learned over the past week and then some. The way his dark pupils twinkle mysteriously almost mimicking those of someone’s you will never forget, but there’s something different about his. His eyes reflected the sunlight like there were stars inside.

You’re so enraptured by his beauty that you don’t realize he’s reduced the remaining space between the two of you to almost nothing, lips just millimeters away now. Without another thought, you lean forward and kiss him, mouth clumsily crashing with his. You can feel his lips curve into a smile as he kisses you back much in a much more composed and practiced manner, like he has done it a million times before, only you know that’s not possible. He breaks free temporarily only to murmur one sentence in response.

“I’ll always remember the way you made me feel.”

…

Time starts to fluctuate in ways you begin to lose track of.

Sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night confused about where you were and frantically searching for something to calm your racing thoughts. You have dreams about different phases of your life, places you’ve been, people you used to know, only they are distorted in ways that make them almost unrecognizable. And then when you try to dig them up from your memories, you find that they are lost and everything has changed.

Now you find solace in the moonlight pouring through the curtain windows of the train and the solidity of Jungkook’s hand intertwined with yours as his jacket covers both of your bodies. The way he never leaves your side is unusual for someone you didn’t even know existed until about two weeks ago, and yet he gives you no reason to doubt that he would ever leave.

It’s something you’ve too grown familiar with, the scent of his body and the warmth of his smile. And as you walk the streets of foreign cities, navigating through crowds of strange people whose faces you won’t even remember, you choose to inscribe the details of his features in your memoirs, the softness of his skin, the width of his shoulders, the veins on his forearms...

You’ve learned that he enjoys gazing at large bodies of water, lakes, rivers, and oceans, which is why you find yourself on the beach at the last stop of your journey.

“Would it make sense to say I’ve always liked being alone, but I’m not too fond of being lonely?”

He takes a minute to contemplate your seemingly contradictory statement.

“Makes perfect sense to me.�� He absentmindedly tosses a seashell at the incoming wave. It’s swallowed instantly, and all you can focus on is the foamy ripples that wane back into the seemingly endless blue. “I think what makes us feel lonely is being with people who don’t really understand us, and that doesn’t happen when you’re alone since you’re just by yourself. ”

“Wow, you’re the first person who hasn’t just told me I’m just being anti-social…well, technically the second.” You smile, breathing out slowly. “I think you and my brother, Yoongi, would’ve gotten along pretty well.”

“Did he leave?”

You nod, recalling the last image of him still safely tucked away in your memories.

“And you wanted to stay to enjoy these last few weeks.”

You arch a brow, having expected him to ask why you didn’t leave rather than stating the exact answer you would’ve given him had he asked.

“How’d you guess?”

He laughs. “I figured, since you don’t seem bothered wasting all this time with me.”

“True.” You smile. “Although I wouldn’t call it wasting…”

The salty sea breeze is something you definitely didn’t have the luxury of smelling growing up. This is your first time visiting the beach, first time seeing the ocean. Each day you’ve spent on this adventure of sorts with Jungkook has been a first…and a last now that you think about it.

“You’re right. I couldn’t have asked for a better end to life on earth.”

…

Home.

It’s not a concept you are familiar with in the traditional sense. It’s not a feeling you’ve experienced first hand nor is it a place you’ve truly been to.

But looking into Jungkook’s eyes you can see it.

You can see it in the way he looks at you, the way he embraces you in his arms not because it's the end of the world and there is no one else to hold, but because it's where you belong and neither of you would have it any other way.

“This can’t be it.” You choke out, already losing yourself to the rush of tears, though you had tried so hard to keep it together until the end. “W-we j-just met…”

He doesn’t say anything, but instead holds you tighter.

“I never even asked you anything about yourself. All I did was ramble on and on about me, throwing all my stupid thoughts out there like any of it mattered.” You’re tears won’t stop. You had always hated endings; putting the utmost effort into not caring so you wouldn’t have anything you were afraid of losing. But you just couldn’t do it. Not with him.

He flashes you one last smile as he gently cups your tear-streamed cheeks in his hands, a gesture that is not overpowered by a deep sense of hollowness but rather reflects an almost peaceful ray of hope.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be here.”

…

...

“I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve watched him die. I just remember always crying until I have no tears left to shed. But he always gives me that reassuring look, with those stars in his eyes and that twitch of his soft lips like it isn’t the last time, that we’ll for sure meet again.” You release a trivial laugh, already feeling the effects of the alcohol. “Of course, I never pick up on it until I’m about to wake up.”

The bar was dim and comparably quiet, being that it was only you and Namjoon sitting at the counter. It was a Monday night, not exactly the best of days to get drunk, but it’s not like you really cared, though you probably should. You had invited the entire lab out for dinner to celebrate the publishing of your most recent paper, which turned out quite pleasant and ended roughly an hour ago. All the other students and professors had gone home.

“He’s always waiting.” You murmur, staring at the shot glass in front of you, still talking as if you were by yourself, reiterating the words that continuously circle back in your head.

Namjoon looks up, startled by your sudden comment after a lengthy pause.

“I never have to look for him because he always comes back to me.” You scoff, bringing the glass up to your lips, tilting your head, and letting the liquid burn down your throat. “And then when I react like I’ve just met him for the first time, he just flashes that gentle smile of acceptance like I didn’t just break his heart.”

Your bottom lip quivers, and before you know it, tears are streaming down your face. God, you feel ridiculous.

“And that happens every time?” Namjoon’s voice is barely a whisper, his eyes focused on his own glass.

“Never misses a beat.” You sniffle softy, picking up a napkin to dot away your tears. “I thought I was ok, but I guess I am insane.” You laugh pathetically.

“I understand. He means a lot to you.”

“He’s the kind of forever that never changes, the kind of time that does not reach an end just to continue that moment you’ve always wanted to last for an eternity.” You don’t even know what’s gotten into you, and though you’re aware of the mess you must look like right now, you can’t seem to pull it together.

There’s a long pause, and nothing but the sound of stifled music and distant footsteps can be heard.

“Professor Y/L/N, I know it’s not my place to be curious about your personal life, but can you really not think of a single person that resembles him, whether it is in the past or now?” Namjoon voice is more desperate than he probably intended, but any could tell you were not being quite yourself.

A forced smile makes it’s way to your lips as you shake your head. “He was always exactly what I needed. He was always too good to be real.”

“It’s not impossible.”

“It’s bad to be too dependent on other people.” You flash him an amused look, not really knowing what you are saying anymore as your head begins to spin from the alcohol. “And please, please, don’t get me wrong. I’m not weak or insecure.”

Namjoon doesn’t respond, sensing your tipsiness.

“It’s not that he gives my life meaning or that he makes me feel complete.” You run your hands through your hair, trying to keep your cool, but anyone could tell you’re losing it. “He’s the only truth in a world of lies. Even when I’m not aware that everything around me is merely a dream, he always feels like the only thing that is real, and for him I would be content never waking up because the rest of reality doesn’t even matter. And don’t get me wrong, I’ve long learned to be independent and logical, to refrain from getting lost in dreams, relying on others, and carrying expectations that will only result in disappointment. I’ve practiced the art of self-love for all my life, and I’m fine. My life has purpose, and I am complete the way I am.” You release a shaky breath, palms feeling cold and clammy. “I’ve always felt that I’ve had everything and yet… he offers more.”

You look up to meet Namjoon’s eyes that are nothing but sympathetic.

“How could I not want more?” You croak, beginning to cry again. “I’m so greedy.”

That’s what it is. Always wanting more, never feeling like what you have is enough. When will you learn to be grateful for what is and stop trying to obtain what is not yours to begin with?

“You are not greedy.” Namjoon’s voice is discreet, but firm. “You’re afraid to believe of his existence.”

Your eyes shoot up to meet his. “Because I know he doesn’t exist.”

“Then why do you keep going back?” His question is not for the purpose of attacking you or for blatantly calling you out for something you’ve been guilty of for years, but it catches you off guard, and you suddenly find yourself exposed… vulnerable.

“My research” You reply dryly, maintaining a steady voice amidst the fable you’ve been repeatedly telling everyone who’s ever asked. “I don’t really have a choice.”

Namjoon doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t try to force the truth out of you even though he knows exactly why. “No, I mean, why does your mind subconsciously always go back to him?” He murmurs, staring at the table solemnly.

His query once again seizes you in unfamiliar territory, and for the first time, you don’t know what to say or at least can’t come up with an answer that will not expose the true reason you’ve been experimenting. Because you know Namjoon is right.

You just don’t know how right he is.

...

#bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts scenarios #bts angst #bts imagines #wow it's been so long #i didn't forget about this story i promise

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