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enterpris · 4 months

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An Education in Attraction, Chapter 7

Pairing: Reader x Gojo

Summary: It's spring when you start your Master's degree. As the flowers and leaves unfold, so too do your feeling for Gojo

Warnings: Mild swearing

Previous Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6

Ao3: PlaidSparrow

"Teacher! What are we doing in class today? Can we skip the lesson and just have conversation time?" Kaba Ryo is one of your more enthusiastic students.

You wave the stack of assignments in front of you. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we've got some worksheets today. There will be plenty of time to talk after, though."

He sighs and walks to the front of the classroom. You hand the sheets to Ryo, who lays them out on each desk as the rest of your students trickle in.

Many of the students greet you as they enter, and your heart swells. Teaching while completing your graduate program is taxing, but there’s nowhere else you feel the same joy as when you’re leading the classroom. In the couple months you’ve been working with this group, the students have really warmed up to you. Not only are they more eager to participate in conversations with each other, they have plenty of questions about your life before coming to Japan and outside of the Eikaiwa school too.

Today they’re flooding you with questions about how hard the classes in your Graduate program are.

"Not as hard as learning a new language," you assure them. "What you're doing now will prepare you well for university."

You’ve settled into a rhythm of letting the students ask some questions at the beginning of class, it’s a good opportunity for them to practice new words and speaking. You answer since it’s a good application of listening skills too. Then you have them complete the worksheets. The sheets will introduce the new vocab in the next unit you planned. Since you're thinking so much about your future, you want to incorporate future tense and more professional words into your lessons.

The second half of your sessions is where you have the most fun. Language learning is best done through practice, and giving the students some freedom to converse or preparing a game for them to apply grammar concepts is probably more fun than doing worksheets too. Today you’ll have them talk about their future dreams- jobs, goals, whatever the students hope for really.

Most of these students have been enrolled in Eikaiwa schools since lower Middle School, and came into your class with high levels of proficiency. You just want to nurture their natural curiosity and talents.

But you’re also determined to make sure your pupils are challenged. You want your students to pick up new phrases and ask questions about why English is the way that it is. Being able to communicate in English is a valuable skill in the current world, even though you have mixed feelings about your native tongue being a Lingua Franca.

“Future tense in English is super easy, I bet you all can master it by the time you leave class today.” You explain the basics of using ‘will’ or ‘going to’ as auxiliary verbs. Then you turn the class loose to get some hands-on experience with the new structures.

You walk around the circle of desks and listen to the overlap of your students’ conversations. You smile to yourself. The high schoolers are immediately integrating the vocabulary from the practice sheet, and they’re successfully beginning to use present tense too. You only have to make corrections to two conversation groups before the class is over.

It’s incredible to think about just how far these students have come so far. The first couple of classes were so reserved and quiet, you’ve had to really work on encouraging the students to speak up. But that’s the exciting part of teaching- engaging each pupil and finding what they’re passionate about and how they learn. When it’s time to end the class, your students are still chatting amongst each other, switching between Japanese and English.

“Thank you!”

“See you next week!”

The chorus of support from your students is more intense than usual as they head out. You think it’s probably because you assign less homework than some of their previous teachers, but nonetheless, you can’t shake the satisfaction of a fruitful class as you pack up your bag and hop on the metro home.

Browsing on your phone as you wait for your stop, you see that Gojo texted you again- it must have come through just as you were starting class. He had reached out asking if you were available to work on things today.

That’s…interesting. After the relative success of your last meeting, perhaps he’s gotten over the awkwardness from the beginning of the term. One civil meeting hasn’t mended the insult of his brash outburst though, and even though he’s reaching out of his own volition, you’re hesitant to meet again.

You debate your response for a moment and then send a quick apology, explaining that you work part time teaching and you hadn’t seen his message earlier. Since it’s already approaching evening, and it’s unlikely he wants to spend his Saturday night writing an academic paper with you, you don't offer to meet him now.

You’ve fallen into the habit of spending your Sundays at the cafe just off campus though. The beige interior and quiet morning crowd are quite conducive to more lengthy reading, and you’ve got plans to catch up on the next chapters. You don’t want to completely brush off your partner, so on a whim you invite Gojo to join you tomorrow, it’s likely he’ll be too busy anyway.

By the time the metro stops and you walk back to your dorm, he hasn’t responded.

The next morning, sun leaks through your window and paints your room with warmth. You’ve barely blinked but the mild sunshine of May is quickly melting into the sweltering summer of June, bringing later evenings and beautiful early mornings.

As you dress for the day you check your phone and see that Gojo had sent you an affirmative message in the early hours of the morning. You hesitate, it had been an impulsive invite and you hadn’t thought he’d actually take you up on your offer.

Apparently he is serious about working on things, though.

You pack up your bag and head to the cafeteria to grab breakfast, sending Gojo a quick message that he can expect you at the cafe in around an hour. A very normal breakfast should settle your nerves and set you up to be your cleverest when working on the project.

After a quick stop for breakfast, you’re surprised to see Gojo’s beat you to the cafe. He’s already lounging in the small chair and sipping something. The table he’s chosen is tucked in the back, close to where you had sat the second time you’d met. You might have missed him if not for his very distinctive hair.

When you sit down, Gojo offers you a smile. There’s no notes or drinks waiting this time, but he seems to be in good spirits.

“Hey,” he greets.

You respond in kind and start to set up. It feels strange to not engage in some kind of small talk, but you haven’t forgotten how unresponsive he originally was when you tried to ask about his weekend. Perhaps this new sunnier mood will make him more chatty too. Before you can break the silence, Gojo interrupts your thoughts.

“So this is where you were working on your example problems alone?”

You blanch. Maybe Gojo hasn’t forgiven you for working alone just yet.

The shock must be evident on your face because he laughs and leans farther back in his chair. It’s warm and deep- a genuine laugh.

“Damn, you thought I was mad still, huh?”

Now this is a side of Gojo you haven’t seen before. He’s been quiet and standoffish and rude, but never- teasing?

You’re feeling unmoored and strange. You shake off the similarities and answer.

“Uh, yeah. But this is where I do a lot of my work, it’s usually pretty slow here on Sundays.”

“I looked over them by the way. Not bad. Have you started on the actual curriculum?”

“I’ve just got some initial notes. Have you begun yours?”

Gojo nods and pulls a notebook out of his bag. There are pages and notes sticking out the sides, densely packed with his messy handwriting and drawings. He carelessly flips it open and flicks quickly through the pages before turning it towards you.

“There’s some patches I haven’t fully detailed yet, still thinking about what depth to go into.”

You scan the page quickly and see that he’s seemingly outlined different streams of depth for physics- he’s listed particular concepts and already linked some with experiment setups.

“Which principle is driving your decisions so far? We’ll have to explain each of the objectives and why we’ve chosen the material for the curricula.”

Gojo explains his outline and points out the most critical pieces he wanted included. You listen, intrigued. Although your outline for this project isn’t as developed as Gojo’s yet, your years at the Eikaiwa school have given you experience, including mistakes trying to move too fast or pack too much into your lesson plans. You’ve found it’s best to be somewhat agile and allow for more or less time depending on the particular needs of the class you’re working with.

Your computer sits forgotten as the two of you converse about best pacing and how to choose the key objectives, and you leave the cafe in the afternoon ready to continue building your own curricula.

The rest of the week goes smoothly: class and reviewing with Saito and Kuzume, another lesson at the Eikaiwa school, until you find yourself settling down at the cafe on Sunday once more.

When Gojo doesn’t reach out first, it’s nearly impossible to schedule time to work together. You’re never more thankful for your iron timetable than when you have to plan another working session. Trying to find free time in his schedule is like clinging onto a mechanical bull- it seems every other week he’s out of town busy. You wonder if he is speaking at a conference or presenting work that he’s done in the past like Saito and Kuzume had suggested.

The chapter you’re reading is lengthy and technical. Your brows scrunch and you try to decipher exactly what the author is trying to say about teaching philosophy. This particular text is a bit flowery for your tastes, but you suppose it’s good to absorb an array of perspectives while you’re trying to figure out exactly how you’re going to run your classroom.

You’re re-reading the previous sentence when your phone buzzes aggressively from the table. It goes off again. You have an idea of who might be texting before you even look at the messages. Gojo is available to work on the project today, and he'll head to the cafe shortly.

It’s a pleasant surprise. You shut the curriculum textbook and open the document the two of you have slowly built. Even though Gojo prefers pen and paper over typing, he’s dutifully added his examples and the curricula he’d shown you last time. The rough draft has really grown too, the example problems are artfully woven together between the subjects and you’re feeling optimistic about adding your curricula .

Gojo blows through the doors of the cafe nearly 20 minutes later, giving you a quick wave and heading straight for the register. You nod back to him and return your focus to the computer.

He swoops into the chair across from you and throws his bag down. The last few times you’ve met his mood seems to be impenetrably sunny, and his appearance is nearly as consistent. You’ve never seen him without dark sunglasses, and his clothes are always flattering and tailored. It seems he may be thawing with the warm weather though- he’s in a crisp blue button down instead of his normal shadowy color palette.

“How’re things going?”

“Going well so far, I’ve just been going over what we’ve written so far.” You pause for a moment. “I honestly wasn’t expecting you’d be able to work today.”

Two meetings in as many weeks without prior planning seems incredibly lucky. Or Gojo’s finally warmed up to you and isn’t trying to avoid meeting with excuses.

He shrugs. “No other plans. And I do want to get this done.”

“I wanted to talk more about the curricula. I finished my objectives and thought we could compare pacing.” You say.

“Sure.”

“I’ve taught in Eikaiwa schools for years now and classes usually go the same speed, but sometimes certain units take longer. Or we focus more on what the students want to learn. I wish there was more flexibility.”

“I agree. Honestly it should depend more on how the class is doing. You can’t teach every student the same.”

This is the first time Gojo’s outright agreed with something you’ve said. While you’ve seen some parallels in the way you both want to teach, there are usually more differences than similarities.

The pieces come together in your brain. The simple example problems he’d provided. Saying that community makes the classroom. It’s not the material that he cares so much for, it’s the people that he’s teaching. It’s about the students.

You look up at Gojo in realization. He’s taken out his stack of notes and is absorbed in looking through the sheets. You take him in and re-evaluate. He runs a hand through his hair again then taps the end of the pen on the table. The sun catches in his silver hair and plays off the sunglasses he’s wearing again.

It feels oddly intimate to realize.

His apparent teaching philosophy also seems directly opposed to the way he acts in class. If he's passionate about building an educational community, why doesn't he bother talking to any of your peers? Or participating in classroom discussions?

"Yeah," you say slowly. "I think approaching each learning style is the most valuable."

You don’t want to disturb the working relationship the two of you are just building, and you’re hesitant to voice your realization since he’s been cagey about his personal life. You could either drop the subject or push a little harder and see if he’ll be more open this time.

“You seem very passionate about the students’ experience,” you say neutrally.

Gojo’s attention snaps from his notes onto you. You were right.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. Once again, you’re left wondering what’s going on inside his head. Aside from the speed he looked at you, there’s no hint on his face. His jaw is soft and relaxed, and you can’t see his eyes.

“I think we need to start working on bringing our curricula together. It’s a big part of the project.” Gojo leans forward and looks at your screen and completely bypasses your observation.

When you’re both looking at the content, the two of you do work well together. You fall into a rhythm analyzing the content of the paper, deciding how to really organize the sections you’ve written so far. Gojo is inquisitive and always has you justify your decisions, but you push back on some of his assertions on how to meld the subjects together.

Soon you and Gojo are trading questions, hardly answering each other as you both edit the document.

“What’s the purpose of this example?”

“I see why you put this objective here, but I think it would fit better in the next section.”

“Do you remember if this study was subject specific? Or were the data points generalized?”

“This objective doesn’t fit with your others. How can you adjust it to work better with the full curriculum?”

“What was your thought process for this problem?”

The paper looks ten times more organized, and you’re much happier with the flow of information by the time you’re finished. You lean back in your chair, rub the cramps from your fingers, and smile at Gojo.

By the time you leave the cafe, it’s late afternoon and it feels like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders. The rainy season has only brought light showers, and today the sun is bright on your face as you walk back to your dorm. In fact, it seems a shame to waste the lovely weather of the day.

As a treat to yourself, you detour through the botanic gardens on your way home. The gardens are lush and heavy with growth at this time of year. Light twinkles on the surface of the central lake and the hydrangeas and orchids have come into full bloom- their light scent floats above the grounds and adds another layer of richness to the experience. By the time you make it back to your room and think about dinner, you’re practically glowing with happiness.

#gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #light academia #reader insert #loooooots of interaction + character development :)#also this will be the last chapter posted before year end! Then once weekly posting again #EiA

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legends-of-time · 2 months

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The Journey of Living at Downton

Chapter 44: January to Early May 1925

Masterlist

Emma, Tom, Ivy and Michael all stay long enough for Marigold's second birthday but the first at Downton and by late January, they're off to Boston while Atticus and Rose leave shortly after.

Emma, three months pregnant, staggers off the ship, one hand clasped to her mouth while the other holds Ivy's hand. Tom follows with Michael and a suitcase.

"Oh, Christ," Emma mutters wincing, now glad to be on solid ground. The cold temporarily distracts her from her nausea. Why did no one tell her winters in Boston are absolutely freezing?!

"Mama not well?" She hears Michael ask.

"She'll be fine," Tom reassures their son, as he places him down and then grips his hand tightly. "Boat was a bit much for her, that's all." He sounds calm but flashes Emma a concerned look to which Emma swallows and tries to give him a reassuring smile.

"Tommy! Tommy Branson!"

Emma looks up, scanning the dock for the owner of the voice and finds a wiry, dark-haired fellow coming bearing down on them, bustling through the crowds and waving heartily, a big, welcoming smile on his face.

"You made it then?" He greets them.

"Aye, we did. It's good to see you, Patrick." Tom says, breaking into an answering smile.

"You too, cousin, you too." Patrick replies, pumping Tom's hand enthusiastically.

Tom gestures to Emma with the suitcase. "This my wife, Emma."

Emma presses on a smile and holds out her hand politely. "How do you do, Cousin Patrick."

Patrick's eyes widen, but he takes her hand and shakes it. "Jaysus, you really married a proper English lady, eh, Tommy? 'How do you do'?"

Emma clenches her jaw, alert to any suggestion that Tom's cousin might be making fun of her even as they'd only just stepped onto American soil.

Patrick looks down smiling at Ivy and Michael, who are staring up at him with wide eyes. "And who do we have here?"

"This is our daughter, Ivy and our son, Michael. Michael, Ivy, this is Cousin Patrick." Tom says, making the introductions.

"Hello." Ivy says while Michael stares on shyly. Emma narrows her eyes at Patrick's raised eyebrows once he hears her daughter's English accent.

"So, where's your luggage?" Patrick asks, peering around. "I'm guessing you didn't come over in steerage with just that one little suitcase you've got there."

"No, we have some trunks." Emma replies shortly. "We were going to come second class, but Robert wouldn't hear of it. It was his parting gift to upgrade us to first."

Patrick snorts. "Very nice too. But then I suppose that's what comes of living with rich aristos. You'll need to go to the luggage collection office then. It's just over there. I'll flag down a taxi while you're sorting it out. I'll see you out front in ten minutes."

With that, Patrick hustles off, leaving them standing on the quayside. Emma watches him go, a sliver of unease pricking at her as she wonders whether they are doing the right thing.

——

They stay with Cousin Patrick, his wife Kathleen and kids Pat Junior, Kathy, Rose, Philip and Bridie for the first few weeks.

After spending the weekend getting used to their new surroundings, Tom is thrown into work as Patrick takes him to see the business. His cousin has a good set-up: a few shiny cars in the showroom and a garage out back with a couple of mechanics labouring under the bonnets of the cars in for repair.

In late January/early February, with Kathleen's help, they found a ground-floor flat available to rent not far from their cousin's house. It is long and thin, with a corridor running the length of it from the front door to the kitchen at the far end. Off the corridor were the parlour, the dining room, a tiny bathroom and two bedrooms, one large enough for a double bed and a wardrobe, the other big enough for two single beds and a few bits of furniture. Outside is a small private garden the children can play in. It was is far cry from the expansive grounds of Downton, but it gives them both a little bit of green space to enjoy.

It takes them a while before everything is settled in, Ivy with her school and Tom settling into his new job. Emma hasn't been able to apply to any nursing jobs, first. It is because they believed at least one parent should be at home, supporting the children as they settle into a new country and since Tom is the one already with a job, it makes sense Emma will take that role. Then, while Emma is only five or six months pregnant, they know hospitals would be reluctant to hire her (yay to female rights that do not exist) unlike Downton where she had been there a good while beforehand.

——

What's interesting about travelling back in time is getting used to the different modes of communication. When you travel to early 20th century Yorkshire, you're faced with writing letters. Emma thankfully didn't have to write any letters at first as everyone she knew was a short walk away or living in the same house as her, so she was not faced with having to write any nor experience how slow it is compared to texting. Then, when in London, Gemma sent her a letter regaling her in life at Downton for those left behind and Emma was faced with the panic of having to write a letter, thankfully they were passed between them quite speedily. Then there was the odd letter she had written to Tom and Gemma when she and Sybil were having their nurse training but both that and London were only temporary. But then she moved to Dublin and the letter quantity increased as well as the time they took and the expense, but it wasn't too bad then she moved to Boston though they had a higher income this time.

They usually send the one letter with little notes for specific members of the house. Emma makes sure to send some to Thomas on the latest drama downstairs (there are murmurings of people possibly being let go and Thomas worries he's on the chopping block) while Tom questions Mary and Robert on how the estate is running (Mallerton, a neighbour ring estate is being sold), Mary has officially taken over Tom's role. Both of them share notes with Edith on what she is doing next for her paper though it seems she's having trouble with the editor and is contemplating what to do with her London flat - whether to lease it out, sell it, or live in it herself. And also, Billy and his struggles to escape the flirtatious nature of his office's new secretary.

Mary's letters are a mixture of news about the family and the business, telling him about George, the estate, the pigs and a couple of Mary's social engagements, plus a brief bitchy moment about Edith.

Mary privately tells Emma a former chambermaid at the Grand Hotel where Mary spent the night with Anthony Gillingham and attempted to blackmail her into giving her money in exchange for her not selling it to the press. Though thankfully it's resolved through Robert paying her off with a smaller amount and getting her to sign a confession of attempted blackmail.

They receive welcome news in the March, the case of the murder of Mr Green has finally come to an end with a woman confessing to his murder. Robert, Cora, Mary and Edith apparently go downstairs to the kitchen to share in the good news with the servants, all sharing a glass of champagne together in celebration. Emma and Tom make their own toast.

——

March 1925

Emma, now five months pregnant, is hurrying along the street from the shops, bags full of groceries. She had paid a local girl to keep an eye on the children but only for a short while and time had run away from her while she'd been getting food. She just gets to the top of her road when she stumbles and drops one of her bags, the insides spilling out.

"For Christ's sake!" She cries.

Before she can begin putting her other bags down to collect the dropped produce, a voice interrupts. "Like some help with that?"

Emma looks up to see a woman not much older than her walking towards her. She recognises her as one of the neighbours, Bridget Rice.

"Oh, no, l-I'm good. Thank you." Emma tries to insist, feeling embarrassed.

"Now just you never mind." She bends down and collects it all back into the bag. "Here." She doesn't hand it back to Emma though, continuing to hold it.

"Thank you." Emma mumbles.

"I remember when I was having my first." Mrs Rice says. "My back ached something fierce, and that handsome, but lazy sack of bones I call a husband never did lift a finger."

Emma frowns. "Oh, well my husband isn't like that."

"Oh, you lucky thing." Mrs Rice remarks. "Your husband is a strange one, so I suppose that makes sense."

Emma narrows her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Mrs Rice shrugs causing Drew's to pool in Emma's stomach. "Well, it's just I thought he was a republican, fighting for Ireland's freedom like the rest of us but instead he's married you and lived with an English Earl."

"He still believes in Ireland's freedom. We both do." Emma retorts.

"Sure, you do." Mrs Rice says, looking her up and down doubtfully. Emma feels like she is being patronised.

"Well," Emma utters sharply, pulling the bag from Mrs Rice's hand, "thank you for your help, Mrs Rice, but I must get back to the children."

"Of course." And she's not happy with that smile.

——

Early April 1925

Emma emerges from the house into the garden to call in the children to find Ivy pulling Michael along with a string attached to his wrist. Okay...

"What are you doing?" Emma asks as she hurries over to them as best she can with her six-month stomach. The children stop, turning to her with a grin.

"Having our own hunting party, Mama!" Ivy declares. "Just like Auntie Mary and Donk!"

"I'm a dog!" Michael tells her.

"Well, be careful with your little brother, Ivy." Emma warns her daughter. From what she can see of Michael's wrist, Ivy hasn't pulled on the string thankfully but can never be too careful.

Michael pouts. "I'm big, Mama!"

Emma smiles softly, stroking his hair back from his forehead. "I know you are, my little man but Mama worries."

She does worry about her children. Ivy has become good friends with Bridie, Patrick's youngest daughter, and Michael with Philip, the youngest son. Ivy also adores Kathleen and Kathy while Michael trails wide-eyed after Pat Junior. The local children are unkind to Ivy in particular but after promptly pinching one in the face after they began insulting Robert, the other kids have left her alone when she is playing outside. But it means, that apart from Bridie and Philip, Michael and Ivy don't have any other friends, which breaks Emma's heart.

As far as Emma can see, Ivy in particular isn't completely unhappy in Boston... but she isn't happy either. America hasn't changed her life for the better like Emma hoped. Not to her mind anyway. In fact, she is worried it has made it worse.

——

Dear Mary,

It warms my heart to hear from all of you on the goings on at Downton, it often shocks me how much happens!

I know I've already said it but thank you for the gifts you sent for Michael's birthday in the February. He absolutely adores that bike and is already arguing that he's big enough to ride a proper big bike and gets annoyed when we tell him no. I still can't believe he's already three. He's running around like mad after Ivy now so it's good that we found a flat with a garden. Ivy's settling in and she'll be picking up the accent in no time I'm sure so you'll have to warn your father and grandmother of it before we all see you next. I'm sure Cora will be thrilled.

With Tom so busy since they've opened a new sales room, it's down to me to keep them in check. It's proving successful as a venture, pulling in both farmers after modern machinery and ordinary citizens after an automobile. America is embracing the motor car more quickly than England, I think, probably because the distances between places seem greater here. Patrick assures us sales will pick up even further as the weather becomes warmer as people like to drive out of the city during the hot summer months. You'll be pleased to hear the last significant snowfall we had was in March. The weather is definitely improving. They're going to have to hire another person for the salesroom at this rate.

I'm glad to hear you're taking over the role of agent as I worry that anyone would understand just how much you care about Downton. Tom feels your pain when you talk about Robert and his adherence to the old-fashioned way of doing things with the estate. I know it used to drive both Tom and Matthew mad. I don't want you to fall out with him but don't forget, Mary, that while he is the earl, you own Downton as much as he does. I know you're very aware of the fact that you're safeguarding the estate for George. Your opinion counts for much.

I am happy to hear Downton did so well at the Livestock show. I know you still see your sister's behaviour as 'faux mothering syndrome' and that you think her worry about Marigold going missing at the show even for a moment was silly but be kind to your sister, she deserves to have someone else to focus on and no child should have too much love. Also, I know your father should've discussed with you about the Drewes leaving but I'm sure everything's fine and it's not that big of a mystery. Though, reading about the family day out, the twists and turns makes me feel tearful as I read it. It's true what they say: distance makes the heart grow fonder.

You shouldn't be surprised that I'm on your mother's and Isobel's side when it comes to the fate of the Downton Hospital. A modernised Hospital will be good for patients. Your grandmother shouldn't forget it's not her who's in the firing line when it comes to medical treatment. Though I can say your description of Robert being the piggy in the middle of it all.

Now, about Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes, you must let Mrs Hughes decide where to hold her wedding breakfast. I know you mean well, my love, but it is her day, not yours. And I am quite sure that Mr Carson will be happy as long as she is happy. He loves her, so he will put her first and do what he thinks is best for her and that will be giving her what she wants on their wedding day. It may not be your idea of a wedding breakfast, but you must allow her to have things as she wants them on her special day. Promise me you won't interfere with their plans, no matter how tempted you are to do so. It's their day, not yours.

Also, are you sure Rose may be pregnant? Or should I contain myself from jumping up and down in excitement?

I'm not sure I would describe our life in Boston as exactly 'fish back in water' so to speak. The Irish community has definitely had varying opinions on Tom and I's backgrounds.

I haven't told Tom yet, but I am missing Downton, more than I thought I would. I dreamt last night I was in the park at Downton, walking with Ivy and Michael under the great trees, listening to the pigeons cooing in their branches. And when I woke, my eyes were filled with tears. I'm missing you all more than I ever thought I would.

Anyway, on that cheery note, considering all that's going on, it might be difficult for us to attend Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson's wedding as I imagine it'll be sometime soon. Don't be too controlling and give them my best wishes.

All the best,

Emma.

——

Late April 1925

"You might think it's stupid—" Tom begins to say one evening. They'd just finished cleaning up after their dinner, the kids in bed after a long day at school. Emma had spent the day with Kathleen, taking a walk in the park to feed the ducks (Ivy had pleaded with her to after they couldn't go over the weekend due to the weather) and sending off her latest letter home.

Emma put up her hand cutting him off, pulling herself from her position of lying on his chest. "I'm going to stop you there. When have you ever said something stupid?"

"What about when I was ranting and raving the first time both of us experienced having dinner with Larry Grey?" Tom reminds her pointedly.

Emma rolls her eyes. "In your defence, you'd been drugged. And so had Billy, so you weren't alone."

"True." Tom shrugs before shifting nervously. "Anyway, I, uh, I've been thinking."

"About?"

"Us, the children, Boston. Whether it's a right fit for us. I wasn't sure right from the beginning whether we were doing the right thing in coming to Boston, but I felt I had to try." Tom says, the words tumbling out of him.

"Me too." Emma admits. "When we came here, I thought it was for good with the odd visit back to Downton but now I'm wondering if we made the right decision. The children miss it."

"I know what you mean. I hoped that– I wanted the children would have a fresh start somewhere where they wouldn't have all the baggage they'd have in England." Tom confesses. "Somewhere where having working-class parents living with the upper class wouldn't mean a damn thing. Seems I was wrong about that. It seems the Irish care about that even more than most of the English."

"For the opposite reason mind you." Emma points out. "I am realising more and more that the Irish and Irish Americans we meet here see me and the children as utterly and irredeemably English and – with a few notable exceptions – most of them greet both of us with a strong distrust."

"That's what is making this all so wrong for me. The children, I don't want them to have to wake up every day and know that there are people in the world who hate them simply because of who their parents are. That didn't happen at home." Tom scrunches up his nose distastefully then. "For once, the English have proved themselves more tolerant than the Irish in that respect."

Emma lets out a snort. "Did you just call Downton home?" She smirks.

Tom rolls his eyes. "Don't give me that look, it's home to you too."

"It is." She admits. "I think Downton is home for all of us now, maybe more than when we were in Dublin. They took me in when I had nowhere to go, helped me find my footing in a world that used to be over a century old to me even though they didn't know it. I wanted to desperately give Boston a chance but the way they treat all of us, like we're the enemies."

"All of Patrick's friends," Tom says, "they think I might be reporting back to British military intelligence."

Emma scoffs. "I don't get it. You were literally banished from Ireland while fighting for its independence."

"Tell that to the boys." Tom retorts.

Emma smiles a self-deprecating smile. "Being married to me probably doesn't help."

"Hey," Tom strokes her cheek softly. "Being married to you and having the children is the only things keeping me sane."

"Bridget Rice thinks different." Emma grumbles.

"Bridget Rice doesn't know you." Tom argues, grinning. "I could tell her all sorts things about you that makes you nice."

Emma giggles and they share a kiss.

"When do you want to leave?" Emma asks, pulling back.

Tom hums softly, stroking her stomach as he thinks. "There's a certain wedding in a few weeks weeks that I'd like us to make it back in time for if we can. Mrs Hughes has been kind to us over the years, I want to wish them well."

Emma nods, agreeing with that idea. "You'll need to tell Patrick soon."

"He already knows."

"What?!" Emma exclaims. "But we've only just decided."

"Apparently it were already obvious." Tom grins. "He sat me down today, asking what date we're leaving. Turns out they already suspected we'd be leaving and put an advertisement in a few newspapers and trade publications for someone. He's asked me to look through the possible candidates."

"Better get started then." Emma declares.

——

16th May 1925

The door opens and a hall boy stands there, which is unusual. It is rare that Mr Carson, Mr Bates' Thomas and the footmen, Albert, Andy and Mr Molesley, would all be out at the same time.

"Can I help you?" He says automatically, then looks at them, Emma, Tom and two sleepy children in their arms plus luggage that they'd already taken out of the car they had taken from the Station.

Peter's face breaks into a surprised expression. "Mr and Mrs Branson, no one said you were coming today."

Tom smiles. "No, well we wanted it to be a surprise, so the family didn't know we were."

They go inside. "Is anyone in Peter?" Emma asks the hall boy.

"No ma'am, they are down at Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes wedding in the Village." He tells them.

"That's today? Oh, I thought it was tomorrow. So, you are on your own?" He nods in response.

"Right, well in that case, let me help you get our luggage inside." Tom says. "Mr Carson need never know that you didn't do it on your own if you don't tell him." Peter nods and begins to do so. Tom turns to Emma. "You take a seat in the Library with the children, put your feet up, then we'll go down to the Village to find everyone."

Emma nods, taking the children through.

Thirty minutes later they walk back down the drive towards the Village, or more accurately Tom walks, Emma waddles and the children run ahead, then back to their parents, trying to encourage them to hurry up. Smiling at their antics, Emma and Tom keep their pace considering Emma can't exactly run at seven months pregnant.

Ivy and Michael stop inside the gates when they reach them and wait for me, remembering our rule that they must not go through without either their parents, one of the family or staff with them. Emma is glad they had remembered the rule before they had needed to call out to her.

——

They stand outside the School Hall in Downton Village. Michael balances on Tom's hip and Ivy grips her mother's hand, staring at the entrance, hearing the rumble of Mr Carson's deep voice through the open door. A mixture of nerves and anticipation churns inside Emma at the thought of seeing them again after all these months.

Ivy shifts next to her, drawing Emma's attention. "Ready?" She asks her.

Ivy beams at her and nods. "Ready."

Emma shares a look with Tom who nods and takes a deep breath and walks into the building.

The first thing Emma sees is the decorations. It is cheerfully decorated with the traditional sit-down wedding breakfast with groaning tables. Her breath catches as she takes in all the familiar faces. Anna stands beaming next to Mr Bates, Daisy stands with Mr Mason and Mrs Patmore with Andy and Thomas lingering nearby. Isobel and Violet are gathered together, and Robert, Cora, Billy, Edith and Mary stand with their backs to the doors. All gaze upon the couple in the centre of the room.

Then Robert leads the toast to the happy couple. "The bride and groom!"

The crowd of people in the room echo the toast.

"To the bride and groom." Emma and Tom both say in the ensuing silence that follows as the guests sip their drinks.

A sea of faces whirls around to face the newcomers. The family's faces light up at the sight of them standing there at the back of the room.

"Emma! Tom! And Ivy and Michael, darlings! What are you doing here? And how did you know where to find us?" Mary cries happily. She moves towards them, joined by Billy, Cora and Edith, and embraces Tom and Emma in turn.

Emma laughs, slightly embarrassed. "I got the dates wrong, thought the wedding was tomorrow," she receives an embrace from Cora who turns to greet Tom, "but we turn up at Downton to be greeted by the hall boy who told us where you were." An embrace comes from Cora too.

Tom turns to Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes (or should they say Mrs Carson?) with a smile. "And it means that we can congratulate you in person. Mr and Mrs Carson."

"Oh, are you back for a holiday?" Mrs Hughes asks, very touched.

"Say you'll stay!" Mary begs.

"That's just the point." Emma replies. "We can stay as long as you want us."

"I don't understand. What are you saying?" Edith asks, with a hesitant smile.

"Just this. That we've come back and we'd like to stay for good." Tom explains. "If Lord Grantham will have us."

"Of course, we'll have you!" Cora exclaims. "We'll be delighted!"

"I echo every syllable." Robert says very happily. He takes Michael into his arms. "Hello, Michael, my boy! Give old Donk a kiss!" They kiss.

Ivy pulls away from Emma. "And me!"

"Oh! And you of course!" Robert hands Michael over to Cora to happily greet Ivy.

"Emma, Tom, this is amazing news. Are you sure?" Billy eagerly questions, getting his chance to embrace Emma with a kiss on her cheek and shakes hands with Tom.

"Don't worry." Emma reassures. "We're really, really sure."

Robert puts Ivy down and shakes Tom's hand cordially before greeting Emma with a kiss on the cheek.

"So, what happened?" Billy asks.

"Well, it's quite simple. He had to drag me all the way to Boston," Emma's comment receives a few chuckles, "to work it out and it took us a while, but we got there in the end."

"Go on, what was it?" Mary presses.

"We learned that Downton is our home. And that you are our family. If we didn't quite know that before we left, we know it now." Tom answers tearfully.

George and Sybbie have spotted Michael and Ivy, waving. Cora and the nannies put the children down, and George and Sybbie run to Ivy and Michael and give them hugs. Little Marigold totters after them.

"Marigold?" Edith softly encourages her daughter to say hello, too.

Marigold walks up to Ivy and Michael, rather more shyly than George and Sybbie. Ivy puts her arms around her. "Hello!"

Michael decides to join in by wrapping his arms around Marigold as well.

And everybody coos over them happily. Emma's heart swells. She's definitely not crying.

——

A/N: Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.

#downton abbey

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badboytwink · 3 months

Text

Chapter 2: His Feelings Are My Feelings

Izaac Jensen

Tuesday, December, 19th.

This seating plan is frustrating. Our English teacher is such a stupid cunt, why can’t she understand that I can pay attention and talk at the same time? Now I’m across the fucking room from him and it’s driving me nuts. I can’t tell him what I’m thinking, I can’t make fun of the material we’re going over, I can’t do anything. This teacher is trying to make my life a living hell. Anger is boiling in my veins as I try to concentrate on this stupid novel we’re researching, what a load of bullshit. I don’t care about Sherlock Holmes and his gay ass roommate Watson. I care about the sandy-blonde hockey player that I’m separated from. I lift my head from the page I’m reading, glancing in the direction of the aforementioned hockey player and suddenly all my anger is gone. He brings me peace, peace from the irrational rage I’m going through like he’s a little stress ball for me.

…

Okay.. maybe, that wasn’t the most amazing analogy I could've come up with, considering I have a bad track record with stress balls, but the point is that I need my best friend to keep me from tearing this place apart like an estranged primate. It’s just a class, only an hour of my life dedicated away from him every day, it’s not that bad.

Thankfully, my imagination shows me a picture of our English teacher as a grotesque crimson imp, burning in the fiery pits of hell, being overworked by demons just like she's doing to all of us in this classroom. A small gust of air escapes my lungs, I find this to be the funniest shit I've seen all day. It's because she deserves it, I'm not a sick person, I believe that every action has an equal or opposite reaction, it's one of that science guy's laws, right? I don't know, science is Ayden's thing.

My gaze intensifies on the clock on the wall, watching the seconds tick by, while I plan my amazing escape from this hell of a classroom. I get to walk home with Ayden today because his mom is at work and can’t pick him up, otherwise I would’ve also gotten a ride home. Before I knew it, the chimes of the end of the day bell ring in my ears and I’m scrambling to put away my shit to get out of here as fast as possible.

We were having a casual conversation on our walk home, I took notice of the way the red hue danced along his cheekbones and the tip of his nose, likely caused by the cold December air. Turning onto the Southridge neighbourhood another conversation struck up. It was his excitement over hockey starting up again, which meant we could play together.

“What are you gonna do if we get on different teams?” I asked curiously, before his eyes met mine, and a chuckle breezed through his lips. “I dunno, probably kill myself or something like that.”

As we reached the interior of his house a gust of warmth brushed over our shivering bodies, immediately combating with the piercing December cold. His house was almost always warm. He had one of those big houses on the edge of Southridge. Right in the front a big sign read "The Backstrom's" it was flashy and as if his family was parading around their nuclear relationship, perfect, rich, the family of my dreams. I would kill to live in this house, with a loving dad, a stable income, and a family that sits down for dinner every night and discusses their day.

The moment we were inside his golden retriever ran up to me, coming to greet me enthusiastically. “Ryder, chill,” Ayden grumbles under his breath, probably still salty about the seating plan from this afternoon, but he doesn’t need to take it out on the poor dog.

I've never minded when his dog mauls me like this. I love animals, like dogs and cats and stuff, but I’ve never been allowed to have any of my own, this dumb little golden retriever has always filled that empty void in my heart, though.

Ignoring the blonde’s distaste for the dog jumping on me I began to give it attention, petting it leisurely, barely thinking about how much this little fucker sheds, and how it will affect my black outfit. With closer inspection, I start to see the resemblance of Ryder and Aiden, the big brown eyes, and the sandy hair. It’s almost like they were made for each other.

“Shit!” Ayden gasps as his eyes widen. My eyebrows raise and I watch him practically throw his shoes off his feet. “What’s up?” I respond, still absolutely bewildered as to why he’s in such a panic. His jacket falls to the floor as the words rush out of his mouth. “I forgot to take out the trash this morning. My mom’s going to fucking kill me, dude.” A soft chuckle leaves my lips as I observe the sandy blonde who’s now dashing into the kitchen to retrieve the trash bag. I love how over-the-top he is, the way he's able to dramatize everything he can never ceases to make me smile.

About five minutes of the blonde panicking, he managed to complete his task, and was able to relax, which was something I definitely appreciated more than the average person. Ayden was such a dick when he was all up in his head like this, stressed and distressed, anxious and tentative. It made me want to rip my hair out, his stress was always my stress, and it was like we had this empathetic connection. I don't believe in all that spirit shit, but sometimes late at night, I think about how connected we are, it's probably because we've known each other forever, but I can't help but think about a witch cursing us as babies, sleeping beauty style, to be able to read each other like books, now that I'm discussing it out loud it doesn't sound that much like a curse and a little more like a blessing.

His feelings are my feelings.

#fanfic #writers on tumblr #Bad Boy and Twink #mLm #lgbtq #my universe #eventual romance #slow burn #original character #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #my own work #oc #boy in sports

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bike42 · 2 years

Text

Saturday May 21 Hania

Today’s forecast was morning rain, but it appears to have changed. We slept in, and it was a beautiful day by the time we got up. We were headed to breakfast about 9am. Breakfast was like that in Santorini - order as much as you want from the menu and they’ll bring it to you. I like that - we had little kids coughing on the buffet a few mornings ago and every one is still understandably leery of coughers!

At breakfast, I told Jeff I’d checked into the post office as when we’re done biking, we like to send back bike shoes and clothes (and pedals and tools). We’ve had quite the adventures doing that in Italy and Spain. It’s always been a hassle, but it always works out. Anyway, the PO is only open from 8a-2pm Monday thru Friday. Jeff said he’d ask the lady at the front desk (same friendly one that helped us book massages later today), and she told him there was a FedEx office about 2km away, open until 2pm. Not only that, she called us a cab!

We quickly threw our stuff in my grey travel backpack and a shopping bag I always bring along, and got into our awaiting cab. The driver said “where to?” and we said “thought she gave you the address?!” He mumbled something. I grabbed Jeff’s phone and Google’d FedEx to ensure we were going to the right place. Saturday morning traffic was gridlock with people out shopping. It wouldn’t have been that much slower to walk the 2km. We were relieved when we pulled up to the FedEx office.

We were greeted by a friendly woman. We said hello (Kalimera, Good Morning) and Jeff asked if she spoke English. She enthusiastically replied “of course!” and I knew we were in good hands! It was fun to interact with her. She was the kind of woman who was just going to figure it out for us. Of course, the true test will be when a black garbage bag completely wrapped in tape arrives on our porch in the coming weeks! But we’re traveling lighter now (or have more capacity for shopping?).

We walked back towards Old Town and the harbor, and scouted out Al Hammam Traditional Baths where we were scheduled for a couples massage at noon. I was shocked to see a Starbucks next to the spa, and resisted stopping there. We walked around a bit - it felt much warmer and there was a gentle breeze versus the cold north wind we’d had the last two days.

The massage was a slightly different experience. An extremely old building with stairs all over the place. We were given a locker and told to change into disposable undies they gave us, along with Turkish towel robes and slippers. We both had friendly and very capable therapists and it felt wonderful. I can’t believe the knots in my neck and shoulder from yesterday’s ride. Afterwards, they invited us to sit on their rooftop terrace, above all the madness, and enjoy herbal tea. It was just the respite we were in need of! We’ll be back here Thursday, so we booked another massage with the same therapists!

From there, we decided to have a snack so stopped at a harbor side place to have Cretan salad and davos with a bottle of sparkling water to refresh after the massage. I was surprised that they gave us Raki with the check - too early in the day for Raki, but we didn’t want to be rude!

We walked around a bit more, around the otherside of the massive harbor. Great people watching on a busy Saturday afternoon. We poked in a few shops, and after much searching, found the little boutique hotel we’ll stay in on our last night in Greece next Thursday.

Back to our hotel, we took showers and got ready to meet our hiking guide Michalis Farandakis. He came to the hotel to chat about our next five days and retrieve our bikes and gear. We have the basic itinerary but the weather could alter our plans … some of the plans involve a small boat picking us up from the beach!

We chatted for about an hour and agreed to get an early start tomorrow to beat the crowds on the Samaria Gorge. He’s picking us up at 7am.

We had a great dinner at the hotel restaurant, sitting outside and watching the crowds and the beautiful sunset (and some of the diplomats coming back made for a little excitement)! We were back in our room to pack up once again … 4 different hotel stays in our last days here, so there will be a lot of packing and unpacking!

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hexisqueer · 3 years

Text

wish you cared

a/n: this was a rollercoaster to write, and through tears, all i say is, osamu big himbo :/ tw: swearing word count: 3.9K (lot of word ;-;) pairing: osamu x gn!reader genre: angst (if it’s not very good, pls forgiveness, internet person)

The late nights with the light breathy words, whispered discussions, the iridescent illumination of the screen on you face, exchanging words that would have neither rhyme nor reason when the next day greeted you. But not a day went by that you didn’t giggle to yourself, alone in your room, as your eyes skimming over the words that Osamu’s fingers carelessly typed out. And you knew, before you realized, you knew in the deepest of hearts that you were gradually falling for the inane spiker, that this was your middle school infatuation. Little did you realize that this was not, in fact, an infatuation but rather something that would plague you for years, building up for years, overwhelming you, pouring out, resulting in meaningless words and broken hearts.

But for now, it was no different than normal, your heart skipping a beat as he replied to every message of yours, head whirling with possibilities of what he would say next, feeling slightly giddy if you were to describe the emotion you experienced.

The truth was that talking to Osamu Miya, it was like being intoxicated. Not that you truly knew what it meant to be in such a state, but this was what you imagined it to be like. Always waiting for more, desiring to keep going, for the night to just still right then so you may converse endlessly, not having to worry about your mundane duties as the moonlight that shone through your windows left you feeling light-headed and weightless.

But the moon always set to give way to a new day, where you could see him in real time, but none of it felt as ethereal as the late-night talks, as intimate as it was when it was just the two of you alone, as scandalous as it felt spending hours mindlessly revealing the tiniest details of yourself to him.

You’d hoped, of course, that things wouldn’t change when time came for high school; the time, most say, is when old relationships are forgotten, the path to the future is forged, a future you hoped still entailed the time you spent with the Miya twins and Suna. You weren’t ready to move on from Osamu yet, you’d never really gotten to know if he returned the emotions you experienced. And so, you ended up a freshman at Inarizaki High, manager for the volleyball team, an integral part of the group.

You were content. Or so you thought.

Y/n was not someone who forgot easily. This was a thought that occasionally graced the train of thought that ran across Osamu Miya’s mind. They hadn’t forgotten when he said he preferred citrus drinks over plain water, hadn’t forgotten the day he’d mentioned that onigiris were his favorite, or the time he’d wished someone would make him a playlist for when he cooked.

A thought that sprang to mind as he sipped on his lemon water every practice, you beside him, mocking Atsumu, or having sarcastically enthusiastic conversations with Sunarin, or tilting your head upwards to smile at him and telling him about your day while he chuckled lightly.

A thought that crossed his mind every time you cheerfully called out his name during lunch, plopping your pale blue lunchbox on the table, bringing out an onigiri for him every other day, leading to much whining by Atsumu, but he liked it; he was special to you, not his brother, not Sunarin, it was him.

A thought that occurred to him as he put on his headphones, clicking on the song queue you made for him, one that was admittedly perfect for his cooking, calming enough for him to know what he doing, yet passionate enough for him to feel inspired. He never told anyone, but each dish he procured after a day’s cooking, was modelled after a particular song you spent day picking out to put in his playlist; one that was just for him.

He liked being special in your eyes. It made him feel like he was at the top of the world. He noticed, even if you didn’t realize, he noticed everything you did for him. Your encouragement for him at volleyball matches slightly louder than for the rest, not enough for anyone to realize but enough for him to spike the ball down stronger as your voice drowned out the crowds’ cheers for him. The sound of happiness you made eating his food, always motivating him, telling him that he was the best chef you’d ever met. The subtle blush that spread across your face as he patted your head, ruffled your hair. How a simple smile from him could light up your face, no matter how bad you’d been feeling before that.

And how could he ever forget the conversations you had under the covers of darkness? The night only rejuvenated his hope that you were only his, your gentle words and stupid memes, the quiet chuckling under his blankets that made Atsumu throw a pillow at him, yelling at him to take his ‘lover boy’ talks elsewhere.

That was the part he disliked. He was fond of you, of everything you did for him, of how you made him feel like he could do anything when you smiled at him. But it wasn’t a crush. You were his friend. Not everything was about romance. Just because your face made every day, and night, of his better, it did not mean he had to be in love with you. You weren’t exceptionally attractive or anywhere close to the type he preferred, so why did people assume he was in love with you?

For some reason, however, he couldn’t utter those words to you. He knew, that you liked him, else why would you do so much for him? But he chose to ignore it, because if the truth came out and you decided to part ways with him seeing as nothing would ever come out of your efforts, he couldn’t bear it. He needed you. He wanted you.

But not in the way you wanted him. So, he kept you around, no matter how selfish that was.

“Good work, captain!” You smile at Kita-san, handing him a water bottle, quickly moving down the line. “Good work, dipshit.” You toss the bottle to Atsumu who stuck his tongue out at you. “Work, Suna,” you teased and received an eyeroll in response. Handing out all the bottle and murmuring ‘good work’, you finally moved to Osamu.

You loved the whole team and spending time with all of them was something that you adored, but you always saved the last bottle for Osamu. You were sure to keep it separate from the other ones, tucked in the pocket of the basket you carried so you didn’t mistake it for another bottle.

“Here ya go Osamu, good work today! You’re getting so much better.” You face away from him, towards the pair that were walking towards you now that they had a small break.

“Thanks y/n. So, did you decide who you would like as your partner for the English project the teacher assigned us? I mean Sunarin and Atsumu would be glad to have you as their partner too, seeing as you’re the genius among us.” He brought his face down closer, attempting a mocking tone, but it came out as a genuine whisper, directly sounding in your ear, that made a shiver run down your spine.

“W-well, I h-haven’t really decided yet, but I-I was thinking we could work together.” His proximity had flustered you. Your face tilted slightly upwards to him, and only then did you realize that god fucking dammit he’s too close, I can’t think like this. The thumping of your heart against your chest didn’t help either, or the fact that he, apparently, didn’t understand how much you affected him.

You collected yourself before you stuttered anymore. However, barely a word passed your lips that you were interrupted. “Ay lovebirds. This is still a public place. Yer too close to them, ‘Samu. Do you not see how red they’re turning?” You blink twice and throw a punch at the blond, missing completely in your embarrassed state, end up crossing your arms while the two laughed.

“Aw did I say something wrong though? Are you upset I exposed you to your knight in shining covers? Ya talk way too much with him at night. Do you even get any sleep?”

“Just shut up, ‘Tsumu.” Gathering up all the bottles, you walk away, too discomposed to face Osamu after what his twin said. It was probably already obvious to him, but you didn’t want to be humiliated like this in front of someone you held so dear. At the water cooler, you realize you’ve forgotten to bring Osamu’s bottle in your hurry to get as far away from him at that moment as possible. “Fuck.”

You turn back towards the gym.

The three boys watched y/n almost sprint away, laughing lightly. He can feel two sets of eyes on him, and the question echoes in his head. When are you confessing ‘Samu? He wasn’t. How could he when it would just be a lie? He didn’t want to be unfair with you, you deserved a shot at true love. But then again, he wasn’t exactly giving you a chance here was he? Keeping you bound to him, avoiding conversations about admitting romantic intentions, flustering you just for a reaction when he knows, he knows what he does to you.

“You should confess ‘Samu.” His brother’s voice sounded out, unusually soft and serious. Sunarin eyed him, seemingly thinking the same words, but not uttering them. This was the last straw. He had grown tired of people asking him about his affection for y/n, he didn’t realize how or when, but he had. He didn’t want to keep having to repeat the same tactics over and over, dodge and deflect. He was done talking about you in his free time, time he would much rather spend with you than about you, and people just didn’t seem to get it.

“Can you shut the fuck up?” The words came out as a snarl, his temper rising too high too fast. “I don’t fucking like y/n, they’re not my type. I just keep them around because I know they care.” He inhaled, avoiding all the staring eyes of his teammates. The words had come out unintentionally hostile, but he was glad he’d said them. “I mean, have you seen them? They’re not really attractive or interesting at all. It’s just because they make me feel special that they still hang around with us, that I let them hang with us.” His secret came spilling out and he didn’t regret it; he was glad to finally get it off his chest.

Atsumu and Suna, however, weren’t listening to him anymore. They were both staring past him, at the sight behind him, which Osamu whirled around to see. You were standing completely still, arms trembling at your sides, basket of bottles at your feet, eyes glassy.

The whole team followed you with their gaze as you quietly walk to the captain, bow without opening your eyes, murmur out an apology and exit the gymnasium as fast as you could. It was not a swift recognition of what had happened, but Osamu understood eventually that it was his words that had caused this. His brother and Suna merely stood there, shock evident in their eyes. “So, you were just taking advantage of them?” Osamu’s head whipped up at the soft voice of his captain. His words were calm but his expression was one of silent fury. “Do you truly realize how much you broke them with those few sentences? You may not have understood it but, we can all see it. They don’t just care for you, they love you. More than you’ve ever loved anything in your life.”

Osamu was overwhelmed, to say the least. He never intended to hurt you like that, but it had happened. Now, what of all those late-night talks and secret shared smiles? What of the playlists you made for him and the encouraging words you whispered to him before a game? What of his onigiri supply that you procured for him from your little blue lunchbox and the motivating comments you gave him on his cooking?

Before he could stop it, the stinging behind his eyes gave way to tears. Not because he loved you, he still didn’t harbor any romantic intentions towards you, he didn’t want to. But because his heart ached at the thought of being away from you, at the idea of losing you to another group of people, at the realization that you belonged with him.

Belonged with him, just as friends.

Your legs couldn’t carry you away fast enough. It was bad enough that you learnt that someone you’d been in love with for years now, had just been using you, but it was worse that he admitted clearly it in front of a group of people that you adored. The shattering of your heart as he spoke masked the quiet chatter of his teammates at the display. The humiliation seeped through you, the pitying glances of the team piercing you as Osamu’s words echoed in your ears - have you seen them … not my type … let them hang with us … keep them around … not attractive or interesting.

If that was what he really thought, then why did he let you make those advances? Why did he let you make a laughing stock out of yourself by doing so much for him? Why did he make you believe that he was equally interested, staying up late with you, returning the same energy you exuded?

You knew why now – he wanted to be special. He wanted to bask in the passion that you showed towards him without having to reciprocate any of the emotions. And you gave him that every day, didn’t you? Making him a separate water bottle, bringing him an onigiri, compiling playlists for him, asking him to work with you on the project even if it usually ends up with you doing all the work so you can keep up your grades?

Everything you did, you did for him. What hurt most was that he had been there for you too. He was, in all truth, your best friend. He knew every insecurity, every desire.

The time when your grades plummeted because you stayed up too late, he was there to comfort you, hold your hand and let you lean on his shoulder, cry in fear of what your parents would say, murmuring in low voices about things he did that day to distract you. The time you had refused to leave your room for days after watching that terribly sad anime, he was there to knock some sense into you, but he also laid gentle kisses on your forehead and let you explain ‘everything that was wrong with the world’. The time that he snuck into your bedroom at night just because you mentioned that you were bored and wanted to meet him; cuddling with him until he fell asleep, so you let him stay the night, waking up with his arm around your waist.

And yet, he had absolutely no hesitation in bad-mouthing you in front of everyone you were close with. Did none of that mean anything to him?

Even as the tears streamed down your face, the anger built up slowly, creeping out of you, staying with you long after your face was dry and eyes were left red. And that’s when you decided – Miya Osamu wasn’t special to you anymore. First things first, you had to sort out a few things; your life revolved around the gray-haired spiker. Well, no more.

Pulling out your phone, a text message is sent just a quickly as it is typed out.

y/n [13:25] hey tsumu, I need a partner for the English project. Do it with me or you suck. You were deflecting your emotions with humor, and yet if his face came to mind, you would breakdown right where you stood.

tsum-tsum [13:27] y/n! oh god, where are you????

y/n [13:30] um, home? Where else would I be?

tsum-tsum [13:31] are you okay? I think you should let ‘Samu explain himself. I’m sure he didn’t mean any of that. It was probably all just a lie, just so he didn’t have to answer us.

y/n [13:40] Atsumu I know yer his brother but you don’t have to cover for him like this. He said what he said. We all heard him loud and clear. It’s alright, each to their own ig.

tsum-tsum [13:42] y/n I know what he did is wrong but hes locked himself in his room and he needs to process his feelings. Yer the only one who can talk to him, so please please im begging, help him out.

y/n [13:50] I appreciate the offer but I will have to decline. It’s not often you find out yer being used by someone you love, and you rarely want to see their face after.

tsum-tsum [13:51] love? tsum-tsum [13:51] you actually love him?

y/n [13:52] ah fuck. don’t tell him I said that, I don’t want him to know this now, after he told us how he feels. y/n [13:53] Tsumu? Hello?? y/n [13:53] please don’t do it.

Osamu felt… empty. It was like he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t blink, couldn’t think. He was sat on his bed, staring at his phone. He tried to contact you, but none of his calls went through and his texts were undelivered. Was this how it was going to be? No more midnight conversations, no more spontaneous gifts, no more affection or encouragement? He had never implied that he wanted a relationship with you, then why were you so broken?

He never intended anything romantic… did he?

He was a fucking liar and he knew it. He knew what he was doing when he snuck into your room to spend the night with you. He knew what he does when he puts his arms around you and buries his face in the crook of your neck, seeking comfort. He knew how you felt every time he stood behind you, your breathing slightly faster, a faint blush running down your neck, struggling not to stutter over your words.

Osamu wanted to scream. Everything about you was adorable. When you weren’t with him, it ached. His arms itched to wrap themselves around you, forehead leaning against yours, your lips moving against his ears, telling him that it would be okay when the coach yelled at him; calming him down when Atsumu got on his nerves; making him smile when nothing went his way. You were there, since middle school, and he never got tired of being around you.

You were his as he was yours. And he…

He loved you.

The tears finally came. Messy and fast, moans escaping his lips through the suppressed sound of hiccups, tears welling up and spilling over no matter how hard he tired to wipe them away. The door slammed open and a furious Atsumu grabbed him by his collar. Osamu could barely fight back, much too devasted as the words he said in the gymnasium came echoing back to him. He loathed himself, for saying all that, even as he knew, you were the light in his life.

Atsumu was yelling at him but the words fazed past him. Out of the blue, his face stung, a slap landed squarely on his face. “Yer so stupid, ‘Samu. They loved you. They loved you and this is how you respond?” Only at Osamu’s sobbing calls for you did Atsumu realize that maybe, maybe his brother had finally understood his own emotions. “Are ya- are ya okay?” The blond wrapped an arm around his twin, pulling him in close while the latter wept, for minutes, hours. It was his own fault, for not seeing all the signs and now he had lost you forever. “It’s not forever ‘Samu. Not if you fix it right now. Do you really want to give them up?”

Cries slipped past Osamu’s lips. No, no he didn’t.

The fervent knocks on your door gave way to the shaking figure of Miya Osamu, his hands balled up in fists, head aimed downwards as quiet sobs escaped his mouth. “Y- y/n.” His arm wiped across his face, failing miserably to compose him. “Pl-please talk to me. I can’t stay away from you any longer.”

Merely the sight alone was almost enough for you to reach out to him; almost. “Go away Miya. I would like to retain my dignity, thank you very much.” You reached to swing the door shut, only to be blocked by a trembling arm. There were no words but you could see it in his eyes – something, something had changed. It was saddening, watching the strong, self-confident spiker fall to his knees at your bedroom door, no longer able to hold it open.

You’d tried all your life to pry open the door between the two of you, making every effort to keep you both close, getting along with his friends, cutting off ties with anyone he didn’t deem fit to interact with you. You did it for him – but you were tired; holding the door open this long, it hurt, a deep ache that pulled on your heart strings; binding you to him but at what cost?

“I wish-,” your voice came out quivering, your lips carefully trying to form words around the lump in your throat. Osamu glanced up, gazing at your through watery eyes, hopeful, longing. “I wish you would have told me, before I invested so much of myself. But then again, I should have realized, that when something seems too good to be true, Miya, it usually is.”

He gets up slowly and reaches to you, with shivering fingers, but you step back and his fingers clench into a loose fist, eyes showing emotions that have never graced his face before. Atsumu promised, it’s probably not too late yet. You can still convince them. But behind your stained face, was resignation. You were no longer his. He had lost you, the ground underneath him crumbling away, the thread that you had so carefully woven the only thing connecting the both of you.

A thread, that could not bear anymore weight. Before he could say anything to bring back what you had before, you spoke. “I’m sorry – I’m sorry I wasn’t everything you wanted. But I’m done. My heart is tired of being played with.” You glanced at him with determination clear in your eyes.

“N-no, no please y/n. Let me explain.”

“I think, I think this is goodbye Miya Osamu. I hope you find someone who made the moon seem as beautiful to you, as you did for me.” With that, you gave him a forlorn smile, shutting off the door that connected you to him, snapping any threads surrounding you. Not another word was exchanged ever.

And yet, at that moment, you were tied, sitting on either of your mahogany bedroom door, weeping for someone you would never have.

#haikyuu angst #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x reader #miya osamu #osamu angst #osamu x you #haikyuu osamu #osamu miya #miya osamu x y/n #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu angst #haikyuu miya osamu #haikyuu miya #haikyuu!!#haikyuu

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17wishbones · 3 years

Photo

Whew! It is now time to post the sequel for this little short series I made. Again, it’ll be no more than 7 chapters with the parts split if it’s a continuation. I’m super ecstatic to post this. I’ve been thinking, editing, and brainstorming ideas for this so I hope it reads well for you all. So please, come and enjoy KIMETSU DAIGAKU: SUNFLOWER’S BLESSING. The name may change in the future. Other than that, enjoy chapter 1! :> SN: All are welcome to read, but this is a POC reader insert, FYI. That is all! SN2: I studied Japanese for a time and studied abroad but that was years ago so excuse me if some of the written dialogue is rough. Wanted to show (reader) learning the language even if it’s real easy, conversational sentences. SN3: Rengoku in a button-up white shirt, khakis and a tie? *slams down credit card* - - - - - - - - Chapter I: RENGOKU-SENSEI, RENGOKU-SENSEI

Everyday, so far, was a surprise when it came to Rengoku.

You honestly didn’t know what to do with yourself. You had thought studying with Rengoku would be an after school sort of thing as you mingled in classes with other students but somehow, he was able to catch you from different periods for almost a whole week!

Mayamoto-sensei encouraged engagement with local students at the university so she allowed you to go with your new teacher everyday. Jealousy riled the others on how you were getting special treatment other than being the only brown-skinned girl on this trip.

It bothered you sometimes, because it wasn’t anything like that! But every greeting from Rengoku was positive and enthusiastic. He greeted you kindly in both English and Japanese. He taught you well, proving that he can be strict, attentive, and instructive. Then, at the end, he’d engage you in short conversations to see how well he was doing teaching you the language and how well you were catching on.

“You did great today, _____! You’ve already made great strides on your flow!”

“That’s because you’re a great teacher, Rengoku-sensei. You did have me sweating bullets the first few days, though. I didn’t think I would catch up.” You closed and put your notebook in your bag. “I feel bad because the others don’t like that I get one-on-one time with you like this.”

“Ah, they’re jealous, I see!” He crossed his arms over his chest, his smile forever wide. It was this pose that had you thinking this was déjà vu, but you don’t know why. “Then it can’t be helped! Don’t worry yourself about what they think!”

“I shouldn’t?”

“Nn!” He locked eyes with you again and spoke proudly with his chest out. “Set your heart ablaze and move onward!” An explosive aura filled the room and warmed your body. “No matter what anyone else says, you do what you think in your heart is right!”

Your heart beat fast and your stomach fluttered with butterflies. ‘Why does he look at me like that? Why does he make me feel this way?’ His burning gaze made you feel like he only saw you in his world, but you shook the thought away.

“Is there something on your mind, _____?”

Your eyes shifted, looking for anything else to say other than what was on your mind. It’d be weird to just be like, ‘hey, I like you and would jump your bones anytime!’ Instead, you found the clock and remembered. “I wanted to visit the flower shop, and see the flower arrangements. I saw one on my way to the girls’ dorm.”

“Let me accompany you!” Rengoku’s open offer made you blush. “I freed myself for the evening just in case!”

This shocked you. “W-what about your schoolwork?”

“I finished it all this morning before meeting with you!”

“And your… colorful friends??” You saw him speak with a few interesting people but he quickly came to you the moment you walked into the fray.

“I have already informed them of my plans this morning!” Your face cracked. He had an answer for everything! “I want to be a good teacher for you and help you as much as I can!”

“Why, Rengoku-sensei?” You asked, curious at what his reason could be.

“Because I like you, _____-chan!”

Your eyes almost popped out. ‘Like me? Like… ‘like me’ like me? Or just like being around me? Whew, boy, you need to stop playing with me because I don’t think my heart can take all of this!’

“Are you ready to go to the flower shop?”

“Y-Yes! Let me get my things, Rengoku-sensei.”

“Kyōjurō.” He corrected you.

“Oh! Kyōjurō…” you circled through the honorifics that he taught you, trying to remember which one was appropriate. “...-kun?”

“Hmm?” He sounded, wanting you to repeat yourself once more.

“Kyōjurō-kun, right?”

A small blush warmed his fair cheeks as he nodded in agreement. “Nn!” He hadn’t expected you to call him that fondly and it ignited his determination to get close to you. A month was not enough time, but he was going to make it work.

You both headed down the slope of the school, crossing a lone shop with beautiful arrangements set everywhere. You ‘ooh’ed and ‘awe’d at each flower that Rengoku named outloud. You repeated, of course. You felt like you were in your own heaven as you gazed at, touched, and smelled the flowers.

You were so happy.

What caught your eyes next were the large, golden blooms held high on long stalks. “Kyōjurō-kun,” he looked over and an overwhelming feeling washed over him when you stood next to the sunflowers, grinning from ear to ear as you asked him, “What’s a sunflower called?”

‘_____, if I could name them after you.’ He walked up next to you, bathing himself in your presence. “Himawari.”

“Himawari. Such a beautiful name for a beautiful flower.”

“I think so, too.” Rengoku wasn’t talking about the sunflower, however.

“Ah, konnichiwa,” you greeted the florist, “Kore wa ikura desu ka?” (How much is this?)

“Go-hyaku-jyuu yen desu.” (500 yen.)

“That’s like… 500 yen, yeah? I think I got it.” As you looked in your bag for the coins instead of breaking the 1000 yen bill.

“Arigatou gozaimasu!” (Thank you so much!) Rengoku bowed and received your wrapped sunflower before handing it to you. “Douzo, _____-chan!” (Here, _____!)

“Ah, Kyōjurō-kun, you didn’t have to buy it for me, but thank you so much!”

“Why wouldn’t I want to buy something for you?” He questioned as you both left the shop. “As I said, I like you, _____-chan! And I want to spend time with you outside of school.”

“Like… together?”

“Yes!”

“Oh, well, honestly, I’d be down for that! Since boys aren’t allowed in the girls dorm, where do you want to go? What do you want to do?”

“I want to kiss you,” he answered shamelessly, “Hold you, and never let you go!” You both made eye contact on the walk back. “Though, I have been holding myself back in case you didn’t like me.”

His words electrified you and he hadn’t even touched you yet in any way whatsoever. “It’s not like you’re handsome or anything…”

“You think I’m handsome?” He beamed suddenly.

You tried playing coy but this kind of mannerism didn’t work for you and, honestly, you liked Rengoku’s straightforwardness. “Yes, I do. When we first met, I liked you instantly. You made me feel so nervous and so excited at the same time.”

“Oh?” He thought for a moment. “Can I hold your hand?” He asked sweetly. “I don’t want you to feel nervous around me, only excited! Happy! Loved!”

“Are you sure that’s okay? Won’t people stare more than they already do at us?”

“I don’t care if they do or don’t! Let them stare! As long as I’m with you, I’m happy.” He gently linked his rough hands with your soft ones, locking them. “I feel I am the luckiest man alive right now because you’re here with me!”

“How many girls have you told that to?”

“Only you, my Sunflower!”

You choked on your own spit. “Your Sunflower? You’re so sure I’m not taken?”

“Yes and yes! I hope to have you for myself as well.”

“For my short time here?”

Rengoku shook his head. “Forever.”

‘Oh my god. Did he just charm his way into my heart?’ You felt the sincerity in his words and saw the genuity in his owlish eyes. “This all really feels like déjà vu.”

“Déjà vu?”

“Like this happened before. It’s… familiar.”

“Nn! It’s fate that we met as we did!”

‘Fate, huh?’ You didn’t notice that you arrived at the girls’ dorm. “Oh, we’re here!” You thought to loosen your hand from his but your arm suddenly didn’t work with you. He wasn’t letting go either. “Our plans tonight are…?”

“Nani o shitai desu ka?” (What do you want to do?)

“Uh!” Always catching you off guard like that kept you on your toes. Besides, practice made perfect. “Karaoke… ni ikitai desu yo!” (I want to go to Karaoke!)

“Nanji ni ikitai desu ka?” (What time do you want to go?)

Your thinking of literally translating what you wanted to say from English to Japanese made each response a little slow. It took time to gain fluency. “Hachiji ii desu ka?” (8 o’clock okay?)

“Close! “Hachiji de ii desu ka” but you did a great job nonetheless! And yes, 8 is fine with me.”

“So…” you felt reluctant to leave him now even if for a few hours, “I’ll see you later?”

“I’ll wait for you to change and pack up some clothes!” You looked at him incredulously. “As I said, I want to kiss you, hold you, and never let you go! At least for a night!” Though he spoke his desire, ‘Am I asking too much from her all of a sudden? I can’t read the cute and twisted expressions on her face yet. It is her choice to—’

“Let’s do it!” Rengoku’s mouth dropped in surprise. “The dorm gates close at 9pm anyway, for whatever reason, while the boys are allowed to go out and do as they please with the gate open.” You huffed, annoyed. “Oh. Where do you live?”

“I live in an apartment 20 minutes down the road.”

“All by yourself?”

“Mhm! I can’t wait to show you! So be quick, Sunflower!” He happily guided you across the gate by the small of your back.

You held in your panic as you got a set of clothes for tomorrow, gathering what you could quickly so you didn’t cross the other students and was out and about with Rengoku as soon as possible.

Honestly, you barely avoided them as you came outside, took him by the hand, and rushed off. They were sure to talk about you, or maybe not at all. You had an over friendly and trusting disposition to a fault, but you were adventurous and open minded. - - - - - - - - - - - Chapters: 1 (Part 1)/ (Part 2)/ (Part 3) | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

#rengoku kyojuro x reader #rengoku x reader #rengoku x you #rengoku kyōjurō #kimetsu rengoku #demon slayer #demon slayer fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba #modern au #star-crossed lovers #fate #smut

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yannowhatigiveup · 3 years

Text

My One And Only - Chapter 17

Previous | Next | Master List

I have posted this chapter and I have had as much sleep as an insomniac can get. After next chapter, maybe, I’ll get to the scene that I have been wanting but also dreading to write so that’s something.

"...You're Ladybug, aren't you?"

————————————————————

Marinette's eyes widened, she didn't expect Alya to come to that recognition but as she gave it a second thought, it made sense. Luckily the pain in her chest had subsided so she could think clearly. The bluenette turned away from her best friend, nodding her head.

"Oh my god. You're Ladybug, my best friend is Ladybug!" Alya gasped, the situation truly hitting her, "Oh god you're Ladybug, the same Ladybug that got stabbed! Oh my god Mari are you okay?!"

The bluenette took a few long breaths before answering. "Yeah, I will be"

The aspiring reporter shook her head, "No, what happens if that happens during class? You might not have enough energy to stay conscious! I'll go tell Miss Bustier to let us off for today then we go to Damian's since he's the likely candidate to be Noir" Marinette knew not to underestimate her best friend's capabilities but she couldn't help but be stunned at her accurate conclusion. Hesitantly, she agreed and only after the bluenette was safely escorted out of the bathroom did Alya make her way to their classroom. After what felt like an eternity, though was probably only a few minutes, the amber-haired girl returned. "Come on, let's go get your stuff"

Once her belongings were collected, the two left the school building and towards the Grand Paris. While one hand was steadying the bluenette, Alya had her phone in the other. 'Texting Dami probably' The walk completely silent, but it was a comfortable silence. The aching in her chest would certainly appear in her voice and she didn't want to worry her best friend more than she already was. Marinette also knew that Alya was waiting to reach to hotel room before she asked questions, a good hero never discussed trivial matters out of the mask when it wasn't necessary, and Alya was definitely a good hero.

Soon enough, they arrived at the hotel and made their way to Damian's room. The green-eyed boy greeted them as they went inside, taking Mari from Alya so that she could lean on him. Once all three occupants were safely secured in the room, their three kwamis came up to check on their guardian.

Tikki's voice came first. "Marinette! Are you okay? I tried healing it but it didn't work I'm sorry"

"It's not your fault Tikki. It's oka-"

"No! It's not okay, Marinette! You're in pain! Plagg, Trixx is there anyway to get rid of it?" The red kwami anxiously floated towards her fellow companions.

"It's was caused by Hawkmoth" Plagg supplied. "Only Nooroo can remove his magic"

Damian hummed thoughtfully while Alya, though less panicked, was still slightly alarmed. There was still one question that left unanswered. What were they going to do now? Marinette's train of thought kicked in. 'We might have to expand our team sooner than expected...'

"What's the plan?" It was Alya who spoke, the reporter recognised the look of thought on her best friend's face.

"I think... I think we need to bring in more heroes" the bluenette replied hesitantly. "I'll give it some more thought before we bring anyone in"

Alya nodded. "Say, do you think I should practise my illusions? I could try to make them more fluid and realistic" Marinette approved for Alya to practice and watched Rena Rouge jump from rooftop to rooftop. The bluenette turned to her boyfriend.

"I'll look at the copy of the Grimoire, maybe it'll reveal a way to heal me, or subdue the pain at least." The blue-eyed girl blinked as an idea popped in her head. "Why don't you join me? You tend to pick up on things quite quickly so maybe I could teach you how to read the language of the guardians"

Damian sat on the chair, gently pulled Marinette on his lap and peered over her shoulder, looking at the digital copy of the book on her phone. "Learning an ancient language could be interesting"

~~~

The green-eyed boy chuckled ever so slightly as the bluenette kept whining about how he managed to pick this up much faster than she did when Master Fu taught her. After some time, Marinette decided to go check on Rena Rouge in her hero persona, she took one of Damian's hoodies before leaving, though. This went unnoticed by the owner but not by his kwami. Plagg snickered at Marinette's sneaky antics before asking, demanding, for some Camembert. Damian ordered a selection of cheese to see if there was a substitute to the stinky cheese, there was no way he would go around smelling like a used sock. The black kwami didn't complain since it means he would have more cheese. As Plagg was eating somewhere in the hotel room, a ringing sound came from Damian's phone. Thinking it was one of his annoying brothers, he left it idle for a moment before reaching to answer the call. It was a face time request. From Jon. Pressing the accept button, Damian placed his phone on the coffee table while waiting for the call to connect.

"Hi Dami!!" Was what was first said when the call finally connected. He didn't necessarily like the nickname, it was reserved for Marinette and Marinette only.

"Hello, Kent" he replied, his eyes briefly glanced over to the black kwami in his room. Then he remembered something that Marinette had mentioned momentarily.

Marinette had pulled her phone out from her purse and pulled Damian in for a picture, Tikki on her shoulder and Plagg on Damian's head. Wanting to make her happy, Damian let his lips twitch ever so slightly, having a small smile, one that his family would scarcely see, on his face.

"Don't the kwamis appear on camera?" He asked when she had finsihed. The bluenette turned to smile at him.

"Their magic prevents them from being recorded or heard on camera, so no" Marinette grabbed her phone back from where she returned it. She handed it towards him where the picture was shown and sure enough, there were no kwamis insight.

"Magic never fails to impress me"

The bluenette giggled. "I know"

"So how's the City of Love? Found anyone yet?" Jon's tone wasn't in a teasing manner, like most of his brothers would usually have, instead his voice held genuine curiosity. Again, Damian noted how much Jon would act like an excited puppy.

"It's adequate" He stated simply, he purposefully didn't answer the second question. Unfortunately for him, Jon managed to pickup on the fact.

"No. Freakin'. Way. You found someone! What's their name? What're they like? Do you have a crush or you and them together? Wh-" His voice was cut off by the sound of Damian's hotel door opening. He was thankful for the interruption before realising it was Marinette who entered, wearing his hoodie.

Completely forgetting that Jon was on call, Damian turned to the bluenette. "Is that my hoodie?"

Marinette, noticing Damian was speaking in English, switched to English as well. "I may have taken it as I left but you have no proof" She made her way to the couch, hugging her boyfriend from behind before noticing the boy on the phone. "Oh hello!" She greeted.

"Woah! Hi! Are you Damian's girlfriend by any chance?" The big wide smile that appeared on his face when she confirmed his suspicions, could rival her own. "What's your name?"

"Marinette"

"It's nice to meet you Marinette! I'm Jon, Dami's best friend!" He reminded her of Adrien, both had excitable personalities and they were both enthusiastic rays of sunshine.

"Self-proclaimed" Damian muttered under his breath.

Marinette, though having a smile on her face, jabbed the green-eyed boy in the ribs with her elbows, "Be nice, Dami"

"My name and nice are not usually in the same sentence" He smirked at her offended expression.

The bluenette huffed as she folded her arms across her chest. "Well when you're with me you're much more than nice"

"Well you are my girlfriend, it's hard not to" Marinette shot a playful glare at Damian, which was by no means intimidating in the slightest. "Such as right now, I feel like I'm being intimidated by a cupcake"

The blue-eyed girl's cheeks dusted with a light pink before she turned her head towards something in the room, muttering incoherently. Damian couldn't pick up what she was saying so he pulled her into his body, her begrudgingly leaning into the embrace.

Jon could tell that Damian had gotten soft and was completely smitten for the noirette. In all honesty, he was happy he could find someone like her. Despite only briefly talking, he could tell she was a pure soul. "Well I gotta get going. See you lovebirds later!" And the call disconnected.

"You're best friend seems like the cheerful type"

"Self-procla-" A soft pair of lips on his own cut off the words he was about to say. He didn't mind, he was just annoyed that this was a very convenient way to get him to shut up.

"Self-proclaimed or not-" Marinette began after she pulled away "-you still care about him greatly, much like you do with your brothers."

"You always try to think of the best in others" He muttered, his voice muffled as he placed a kiss on her temple. "Where's Cèsaire?"

"She returned to school, hey do you want to get something to eat while I'm still here?"

"Sure"

~~~

The two had sat down in the dining area, both scanning the menu for something that caught their eye, when an akuma made it's presence known. The couple quickly came to the the scene, the Akuma seemed to be a ten year old girl. Le Chien and Rena Rouge were quickly to arrive as well, with Le Chien providing the information on her backstory.

"Apparently, from what I heard, she got ridiculed for getting a participation reward" The dog-themed hero supplied, eyes dropping ever so slightly. "Poor her"

"If we deal with this swiftly, we'll be able to help her" Ladybug called upon her lucky charm and was given a long, spotted javelin. The spotted heroine noticed how the girl's weapon was also a javelin, just with a more pointier end. Her eyes darted all over the scene, first to Noir who was duelling the Akuma, then to the two heroes at her side. Quickly formulating a plan, Ladybug turned to Rena Rouge. "I'll need you to create illusions of the two of us, we'll able to confuse the Akuma and while it's confused-" The spotted heroine turned to Le Chien. "-you'll be able to identify the akumatized object"

Rena and Chien nodded while positioning themselves to attack. Ladybug, javelin in hand, joined Noir in the duel. Rena joined too after a music note was played and many clones of the hero team were created. The Akuma, however, was tactical and had managed to narrow it's opponents down to the original trio. This was when the main part of her plan was to take place. Ladybug slowly distanced herself from the fight, sending a signal to Noir to get him to do the same.

Once noticing her signal, Noir took action. "Rena, fall back" The fox-themed heroine shot a shocked look at the black cat hero before hesitantly obliging. With all three heroes equal length away, the Akuma struggled to decide who to get rid of first, Ladybug had other plans. Using the moment of uncertainty to her advantage, the spotted-heroine charged at the Akuma, knocking the Akuma's javelin out of their reach with her own. While Ladybug was in the air, jumping over the Akuma, Le Chien had not a moment to spare.

"Fetch!" His boomerang lit up and he threw it at the Akuma with great force, the glowing boomerang snatched one of the many medallions resting on the Akuma's body before returning. A purple butterfly emerged as the dog-themed hero threw the medal on the floor.

A spotted yo-yo was quick to capture the fluttering creature. "Gotcha. Bye-bye little butterfly" Once freed from it's magical imprisonment, a white butterfly emerged. Javelin in hand, Ladybug threw it in the air, erupting into many magical ladybugs. "Miraculous Ladybug!" Once the ladybugs subsided, all four heroes fist pumped.

"Pound it!"

They were interrupted by the sound of three miraculous beeping. Sharing a chuckle, the superhero team parted ways, Ladybug and Noir leaving together of course. They arrived to the sound of Damian's phone being bombarded with notifications. With a sigh, the green-eyed boy went to check what the messages were while Marinette brushed through her hair. He hummed.

"What is it?" The bluenette asked, placing the brush down on one of the cabinets.

"Your uncle released his album, the song you provided the vocals for has already reached number one in a few countries" Marinette blinked in astonishment.

"I- already? Wow..." She couldn't really figure out what to say. In her defence, what do you say in reply? "Hang on, wait I'll be back" The girl left and Damian decided to occupy himself by rereading the digital copy of the Grimoire that his girlfriend had sent him. It was quite a simple language once you get used to it, most of the symbols were shaped similarly and it was quite an easy concept. Around twelve minutes later, Marinette returned with a few boxes. "I brought some of the things I made for your family. I thought it would be best to give it to you now before I forget"

Damian removed the weight in her arms while smiling. "Thank you, Angel"

"Anytime, also-" The bluenette took something that was hidden behind her back, since she had an oversized hoodie it was easy to. "-I made this for you" It was a hoodie of her own design, ever so subtly Robin themed.

Putting the boxes near his suitcase, Damian walked back over to Mari, delicately handling the woven fabric almost as if he were in fear of ruining it. The green-eyed boy slipped in on, it fit like a glove with a little bit of leniency to provide warmth. Turning back to the bluenette, Damian found her analyzing the piece of clothing in him, as if looking for mistakes needing to be fixed.

"Does it fit okay? Is it comfortable? Do you like the design?" Marinette kept rambling on with questions about the artwork that he was wearing. Walking closer, he enveloped the bluenette in a hug, her face buried in his chest while he stroked his fingers through her midnight hair.

"Thank you, Habibti. I am very grateful for this gift, but you really didn't need to make me one"

She looked up at him and huffed. "I wanted to and besides-" her arms snaked up his chest and made their way around neck, her fingers lightly tugging on the hairs on his nape. "-it looks good on you"

He hummed, his hands trailing down to her waist, "if it was made by you, it's bound to be" The green-eyed boy placed a slow but heartfelt kiss on the forehead. "I'm not sure about you, but I'd like to listen to the completed song"

Marinette whined but went to get her phone anyway, Damian chuckled at her antics before returning to the pages of the Grimoire he was reading. In the background, he heard the plucking of a strings instrument followed by chimes from what could've been a triangle. The genre itself wasn't what first came to mind when someone mentioned 'Jagged Stone' but the man was fully capable of creating great songs in any music style. His point was further supported when Marinette's voice echoed through the music. Damian unknowingly smiled as he listened to his beloved's voice, but something else caught his attention. Flicking through the pages, the green-eyed boy came across a page relating to both the Ladybug miraculous and the Butterfly miraculous. Briefly scanning the ancient letters, he caught the bluenette's attention.

"Angel, did I translate this correctly? If I did then..."

Marinette, intrigued, came over to peer over her boyfriend's shoulder and found him looking on a page she hadn't seen before. She scanned it hastily, her palm covering her mouth as she finished. Damian looked over at her expression, meaning that he had translated it correctly.

"...I believe I found a way to subdue Hawkmoth"

———

Taglist: @little-bluestar,@miracleofadisaster,@frieddonutsweets,@jjmjjktth,@genderfluidmoma,@starlit-dreaming,@icerosecrystal,@lolieg,@kashlyn, @mochegato,@eggadoodle,@walkingthroughonautopilot, @toodaloo-kangaroo,@lady-bee-fechin,@weebjai1

#daminette #damian x marinette #maribat #maridami #marinette x damian #mlb x dc #ml x dc #damianette

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cheri-translates · 3 years

Text

[CN] Victor’s Birthday R&S

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an event which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Victor’s 2021 birthday collection:

🐼 r&s ♡ l belonging date l video call l moments and texts l asmr

[ Released on 8 January 2021 ]

[ CHAPTER ONE - Special Present ]

Victor is about to welcome his 15th birthday.

This year, the first birthday present he receives is, as usual, from Little Vick’s zoo. Standing in his room and seeing the box filled with animal plush toys, Victor frowns in slight resignation. When he was young, his parents asked him which was his favourite animal. Without putting much thought into it, he gave the panda as an answer. Since then, he’s been constantly receiving all sorts of presents featuring pictures of pandas from his parents. When he was 9 years old, he even “owned” an actual panda.

As what his father says, since it’s rare for Victor to express that he likes something, there’s definitely a need to fulfil his wish.

Even though he doesn’t dislike this gift, he finds it a little difficult to handle when the zoo sends him a huge box of souvenir plush toys since he shares the same birthday as Little Vick. Other than these, the box would also contain photographs of Little Vick’s everyday life, taken by the rearing staff. Victor would keep them, and send the plush toys to the children of relatives.

[Note] In CN, the panda’s name is 言言 (Yan Yan). But MC used the name “Little Vick” in an EN Moment post, so I’m using it too!

This year, he plans to follow the same routine. Just as he tidies up the items in the box, a knock comes at the door.

“Please come in.”

He turns his head, watching as his father walks in and leans next to the door, a coat draped over his arm. It looks like he just returned from work.

“Are you done with work?”

“Mm. Dad freed up his weekend. Since your birthday is coming, why don’t we head out together?”

Victor looks at his father’s slightly fatigued expression, and contemplates for a while.

“Okay, as long as it isn’t too noisy.”

The man casts a fleeting glance at the cardboard box in front of his son, then offers a suggestion.

“Want to see Little Vick?”

“There are a lot of people in the zoo during the weekend.”

Victor answers very quickly. As such, the man recollects the places he’s taken Victor to in the past, attempting to find a location his son would like.

“What about the countryside park?”

“Okay.” Victor agrees, then raises his head to look at him. “Dad, has Aunt been at home recently? I’m thinking of sending these plush toys to her.”

Seeing the man nod, Victor takes up the adhesive tape and re-seals the box. Watching his actions, the man sighs in his heart.

Trying to figure out what this kid likes - it’s truly a difficult question.

[ CHAPTER TWO - Growing Up Problems ]

It’s a pretty long journey to the countryside park. Victor stuffs this year’s pictures of Little Vick into his backpack, preparing to flip through them along the way.

Actually, ever since adopting it, he’s never visited the zoo to see Little Vick.

He doesn’t really know how to define the relationship between himself and that panda. His neighbours call their three dogs “Boss”, “Second Boss” and “Third Boss”. The moment they’re called, they would rush to the owner, and are as close as family. But Little Vick needs to be meticulously raised by professional staff. Even if it’s given a name, it doesn’t mean it has become someone’s pet, much less a “family member”.

Moreover, everyone knows that a little kid can’t afford to rear a panda. Even if the adoption certificate has Victor’s name on it, he hasn’t offered anything personally. This makes him feel that his connection to Little Vick is even more indiscernible.

Precisely because of this, Victor is always a little surprised whenever he flips through the album featuring its growth. In just a year, Little Vick has grown by quite a lot, and looks like an “adult” - but it’s only 6 years old this year.

The car halts before the traffic light. The man leans over to look at the photographs in Victor’s hands.

“It’s grown quite a lot again. Animals always grow up more quickly than humans.”

“Mm.”

After a short silence between the two, Victor mutters softly.

“...I also wish to grow up quickly.”

Hearing Victor say this suddenly, the man is a little shocked, turning his head to look at him.

“Why?”

“Because there are many things I can’t do right now.”

The man deliberates on his choice of words. “The reason why Little Vick can grow up so quickly is because its lifespan is relatively short. But you're different - you have sufficient time to live out every stage properly.”

After the man finishes speaking, he doesn’t get a reaction from Victor for a long time. From the rearview mirror, he discovers that Victor seems to have sunk into a deep contemplation.

Could talking about such things be too heavy for his son’s birthday? The man lifts his hand to loosen his tie, planning to change the topic.

"But there’s still a chance for you to do things yourself if you want to.”

“For instance, you could try paying for Little Vic’s adoption fees.”

Seeing Victor raising his head, he continues.

“The adoption fees for Little Vick are in yearly instalments. Once you have the ability to do so, Dad won’t help you pay for them.”

Victor hesitates for a moment. “Doesn’t that still require me to wait till I’m older?”

“As long as you're able to earn money from me, it doesn’t matter how old you are. Didn’t you learn about the stock market simulator from Dad recently? I’ll let you use the profit in exchange for an equivalent value.”

Victor straightens up slightly in his seat, and asks in slight anticipation. “How much is it every year?”

"A hundred thousand yuan.”

[Note] Approximately USD$15,500

Victor lapses into silence for a while. To a kid, a hundred thousand yuan is indeed not a small number. Seeing his expression, the man prepares some words of comfort. However, he suddenly speaks.

“Okay, I’ll give it a try.”

[ CHAPTER THREE - The Moment of Meeting ]

The car stops at the entrance of the park. Within it, father-and-son look at each other in dismay.

Five minutes earlier, the two of them were notified by the carpark staff that the park has temporarily ceased operations due to some internal revisions. As such, they have no choice but to head to another place.

“Looks like we should have given them a call to check first.”

Seeing the rare expression of vexation on his father’s face, Victor retrieves a map from the storage compartment. The both of them stare at it together, and it seems that the Loveland City zoo, which is only dozens of kilometres away, is the most suitable replacement.

“Shall we take a look?”

Sensing that his father is waiting for his answer, Victor hesitates for a moment before nodding in agreement.

After registering the adoption certification, the staff of the panda area enthusiastically receives the father and son.

“Little Vick’s birthday is coming soon. It’d definitely be very happy to see the two of you.”

Walking into the warm venue, there are excited visitors everywhere. With such an atmosphere, Victor starts feeling slightly expectant too.

“The one at the front is Little Vick.”

The staff brings the two of them before a glass room. At the front is a panda which is hugging a ball and amusing itself. Victor leans closer to the glass, giving it a detailed look. Little Vick seems to have been taken cared of very well. Its fur is fluffy, it looks sturdy, and refuses to let go of its favourite toy.

The man laughs inwardly as he watches his son subconsciously draw nearer to the glass. He even thought Victor didn’t like such adorable animals - it turns out he just refused to admit it. The phone in his pocket vibrates unceremoniously, and he signals to Victor, turning around to answer the call in a corner.

When it’s time for the pandas to eat, the rearer brings a large bundle of bamboo into the glass room. Seeing the look of anticipation on Victor’s face, the rearer specially brings a small bamboo leaf close to the glass. As expected, Little Vick sets down its toy and paces over. After circling the bamboo leaf twice, it suddenly lifts up his front paws and plops onto the glass. Victor is stunned, subconsciously bending down, reaching out to attract its attention.

The staff smiles as he looks at the boy and panda. “Looks like Little Vick really likes you!”

“...”

Saying that he wasn’t pleasantly surprised would be a lie. Victor looks at its slightly curved lips, and smiles along with it.

Should he greet it, or should he just stay like this quietly?

While he’s struggling internally to come to a decision, Little Vick slides off the glass, plopping its bottom onto the ground. Finding a comfortable position, its back faces Victor as it starts gnawing on the bamboo.

...as expected, eating is more important.

Victor hurriedly retracts his smile, straightening up to look at the back of its head. In order to alleviate the embarrassment from earlier, he broaches a new conversation topic.

“May I know,” he turns to the staff member at the side. “If it’s considered an adult now?”

“Yes, it’s already at an age where it’s seeking a spouse.”

“In that case, will it live together with its family in the future?”

“Pandas are very solitary, and Little Vick’s a boy. Even if it has children, it’d still lead a solitary life.”

As though in deep thought, Victor nods. Although these animals look charmingly naive, they aren’t as weak as imagined, and don’t need to rely fully on those around them.

As compared to them, perhaps he truly hasn’t grown up yet.

[ CHAPTER FOUR - Repaying Love ]

Returning from the call, the man sees Victor staring at the back profile of Little Vick. Even after leaving the panda area, he doesn’t speak.

“Why aren’t you talking?”

After a while, Victor responds.

“It doesn’t seem like it’d remember us.”

The man recollects the image he saw earlier. With some understanding, he nods.

“If we visit it a few more times in the future, it might remember.”

“But... so many people visit the pandas every day. I’m just one of them.”

“Victor, let Dad ask you something.” The man pauses in his footsteps and looks at him. “Without considering other factors, do you like Little Vick?”

Victor nods very quickly. The man continues with another question.

“After knowing it wouldn’t respond to you, do you still like it?”

After thinking about it for a while, Victor nods again. The man laughs slightly, bringing him towards the resting spot near the lakeside.

“Not being able to return the same emotions yet not affecting your liking towards it - isn’t this very good?”

“But it’s usually living in the zoo. We can't rear it personally. This kind of liking can’t establish any connections.” Victor seems to hesitate. “I remember you mentioning that the reason for “liking” is to establish connections with other people.”

The man pauses in his steps, turning his head to meet his son’s puzzled gaze. He sighs softly.

“What Dad tells you is not necessarily always true. You need to learn how to assess the appropriate occasion and target. You and Little Vick aren’t able to understand each other. Protecting it from afar like this isn’t a bad choice.”

Victor frowns slightly. These words are slightly confusing, and seem to contain things he has yet to understand.

“In that case, what if there’s mutual understanding?

A cool breeze brushes past. He watches as his father blinks, concealing a very small emotion in his eyes.

“A person who is willing to understand you is someone who is wiling to walk down the same path as you. If you meet that person someday, you must definitely cherish them.”

Because their original plan was to visit the countryside park, the man also brought the cake along. Since the scenery by the lakeside isn’t bad, the both of them select a bench and sit down. The man hands the cake box to Victor.

“Do you mind eating the cake a few days in advance?”

“I don’t mind.”

Victor takes apart the ribbon. Inside is a very exquisite cake, a small brand logo printed on the bottom right side of the chocolate sign. Perhaps noticing his slight pause, he quickly hears his father’s voice.

“...this year’s cake was bought.”

“It looks very nice. Thanks, Dad.”

“The zoo doesn't allow for the lighting up of candles. So we’ll blow out the candles and make a wish at home.”

“Okay, it’s all right.”

Victor carefully cuts out two slices of cake, handing one to his father. The two of them sit next to each other, eating cake while staring at the lake, neither of them speaking.

[ CHAPTER FIVE - Important Person ]

After returning home and having a bath, Victor walks towards his room with relaxed steps. While passing by his father’s bedroom, he vaguely hears him talking to someone over the phone.

It’s so late. Is he still working? Victor is about to continue walking, but his ears suddenly catch a few special words.

Weather, zoo, birthday... His father doesn’t seem to be talking about work, but about very trivial topics to someone. Just as he’s about to step away from the door quietly, his father calls out to him.

“Victor, come in.”

“It’s late and you aren’t asleep yet.”

His father sets down the phone, not giving him a reply. Victor glances at the screen which has yet to dim, and it displays that he isn’t currently in a call. His father doesn’t seem to know how to explain that “phone call”. After a moment of silence, he suddenly broaches another topic.

“Dad didn’t give you a present this year. You’re going to be 15 soon. Do you want something different?”

“You’re referring to...”

“For example, a present belonging to an adult.”

“Anything is fine?”

“Tell me what it is first.”

After giving it some thought, Victor scans his father’s room. Most of the items are either things he already owns, or things he doesn’t need in the far future. After taking a look around, his eyes fall back onto his father - to be more precise, the dark coloured tie he’s wearing.

“I want to buy a tie.” Victor pauses, then adds on. “One with a darker colour.”

Actually, there have been many occasions when he’s needed to wear a tie, and he doesn’t lack them. But most of them cater to his age, or are for school performances, and he doesn’t have one which is formal. Also, considering his mother’s preferences, the colours and patterns of the ties in the closet are very outlandish. One of them even has panda badges on it.

Perhaps thinking about the same image, his father suddenly laughs.

“Okay, you’ll pick one yourself tomorrow. But I have a condition.”

“Go ahead.”

“The reason why we didn’t light candles or make a wish this year is in hopes that you’ll say it directly when you want anything in the future. Especially when it comes to important wishes - you need to tell them to important people as soon as you can.”

“However, if it’s something I can do, I don't want to trouble someone else.”

“To some people, it isn’t troublesome.”

After saying this, he tousles Victor’s hair. Victor seems to comprehend it vaguely. In the past, he used to teach Victor how to be independent, so why is he suddenly changing his attitude?

Could it be that someone like his father has moments when he wishes to rely on someone else too?

Returning home the next day after buying the tie, Victor is once again called into his father’s bedroom. The two of them stand properly before the full-length mirror.

“The pattern of a tie is very critical, but tying a suitable knot is also very important.”

He watches as his father retrieves a tie from the closet, turning around to face him.

“Today, I’ll teach you how to tie a formal knot.”

“Okay.”

Before being taught, Victor never expected that such a complicated knot existed. Even though he follows his father step-by-step, the final knot ends up being crooked. Refusing to give up, he removes the tie, giving it another try.

“Does this knot have a name?”

“Eldredge Knot.”

“What occasion requires such a knot?”

His father doesn’t give him a direct answer. “The more complicated the knot, the more important the occasion. Even if you were to only use it once, it’s worth preparing for it.”

Victor watches his father in the mirror. He doesn’t say more, and simply tells him to practise by himself before turning around and leaving. Victor spends an incredibly long time in front of the mirror before he finally ties it into shape.

When he turns around, wanting his father to check it, he sees the wedding photograph of his parents out of the corner of his eye. This photograph isn’t foreign to him, but he still takes a curious, careful look at it.

With this, he finally understands what his father meant by “occasion”. In the photograph, the knot the father tied is the exact same one.

[ CHAPTER SIX- A flowing love ]

One more photograph of Little Vick nibbling on bamboo appears on Victor’s desk. Even though there’s a huge “generation gap” between him and Little Vick, the way it eats seriously without being picky is worthy of acknowledgement. Victor thinks - if he can fork out the adoption fees and enable it to lead a healthy and happy life, it counts as a one-sided, reasonable expression of liking it.

Aside from studying, Victor spends a lot of time over the following days researching stocks intensively. After a couple of transactions, he manages to recoup more than his original investment. This sale enables him to accumulate enough to cover the adoption fees. With the success of the stock market simulation, his father, as agreed, deposits the money into Victor’s savings account.

“Next year, you can see Little Vick with pride.”

“It’s fine as long as I can continue providing it with a good life.”

The man sighs in his heart when he looks at Victor’s small, deliberately stern face. It appears that he’s still troubled by Little Vick not remembering him.

"However, I heard that it could have its own children soon. Could I continue adopting its children?”

The man is a little surprised, but responds seriously.

“It’s your own decision. You have to ensure that you have the ability to do so in the future.”

“I’ve done some calculations. Before I turn 25, I can repay you for all the adoption fees over the years.”

“Does this count as your wish?”

“No, it’s a plan.”

The man chokes up for a moment. Even though Victor is at an age where nothing daunts him, he rarely boasts. If he can truly walk down the path he has planned, it’s truly worthy of admiration.

There may still be much his son has to learn, but he’s wiling to believe in him. But before that, he still has to return to the previous question.

“So what's your wish?”

The self-assured mini adult suddenly grows uneasy after hearing this question.

“I wish... that you’ll see me as an adult next time.”

“Hm?” The man displays an amused expression.

“If there are certain things I can do, you can let me shoulder them for you.”

At the sight of Victor’s resolute expression, the man can’t help but laugh.

"I could consider it, but you have to first learn how to not wear your tie crookedly.”

He looks down. Without realising it, his tie has become loose, and hangs on him crookedly. He hurries to the mirror to straighten it, but still looks in the direction of his father out of the corner of his eye.

The call which didn't get through in the bedroom earlier - Victor knows who it was made to. A proper calculation of the time differences , and the gentle tone used to talk about trivial matters - he’s already heard it for many years.

Certain things can’t be re-lived. But at least, they can continue through other means.

As a person who is about to become an adult, he believes he can do it.

Fun fact: Victor tied the Eldredge knot in his Deep Love Date T^T

🐼 Support the cafe by dropping by the tip jar!

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc victor #CRYING

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let-the-dream-begin · 3 years

Text

A Family of Our Own: Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Read on AO3

May, 1754

Claire was in her garden with Maggie. Brianna and Kitty were supposed to be helping as well, but they were a bit preoccupied chasing chickens and making the dogs bark their heads off.

“I don’t want to hear it if either of you get bitten!” Claire called over her shoulder.

“We won’t, Mummy!” Brianna said, exasperated.

Claire turned back to face Maggie again, and the girl shook her head.

“Ye canna stop them,” she said. “No’ until it’s too late.”

“You’re too right.”

Claire was just about to demonstrate something for Maggie when the sound of a horse’s hooves caught her ear.

“Girls! Get the dogs inside!” They obeyed, turning it into another game of sorts to corral the beasts. She didn’t want the dogs spooking the horse and throwing whoever the rider was to the ground. It was midday, and they weren’t expecting any visitors. Claire squinted down the road, wiping her hands free of dirt on her apron, her throat clenching on instinct at the sight of a flash of red. Her nerves settled however, when she remembered.

Once a quarter.

Apparently it was time for Jamie’s first visit from Lord John Grey.

“Who is it, then?” Jenny appeared on the porch, flanked by the girls, including Janet this time, all having realized that getting the dogs inside could only mean a visitor on horseback.

“It’s Lord Grey,” Claire said, returning to Maggie’s side.

“Lord ha’ mercy,” Jenny breathed. “Inside, girls. Now.”

“He won’t hurt anybody,” Claire said, furrowing her brow. “There’s no need to worry. Jamie trusts him.”

“That makes one of us,” Jenny said, her jaw hard, and her eyes fierce. “Inside,” she said again, and Maggie trudged past Claire to obey her mother.

“Wait, Brianna,” Claire called, stopping her from joining the throng.

“Are ye mad, sister?”

“I want her to meet him,” Claire said lightly. “It’s about time she meets a respectable Englishman,” she reasoned, with no little disdain directed at the assortments of horrible Englishmen they’d been harassed by over the years. “Besides, he’s a friend of her father.”

“Respectable and English dinna belong in the same sentence,” Jenny grumbled, ushering the girls inside.

“Should I take offense to that?” Claire said testily, putting one hand on her hip and the other on Brianna’s shoulder.

“I’ll let ye know in a bit.” She gestured with her chin, and Claire turned around to see the horse crossing the threshold of the archway. She was surprised by his appearance; she didn’t know why. Perhaps it was because he bore little to no resemblance to the scrawny young lad from all those years ago. His face was kind and gentle; his eyes held both quiet mirth and an impenetrable sadness. He was slender but still finely muscled, the makings of a good soldier.

“Good day, Madame,” he said, slowing his horse to a stop. “Is this Broch Tuarach?”

“That it is,” Claire answered.

The man paused for a moment, blinking back something that was seemingly shock, his lips parting silently, then closing. “Well,” he said, awed. “I do believe I’m in the presence of the Englishwoman I’ve heard so very much about.”

He dismounted, keeping hold on the reins. He bowed lowly, bringing his tricorn hat to his chest, maintaining eye contact all the while. “Lord John Grey,” he said. “I am entirely at your service, Ma’am.”

“Claire Fraser,” she answered, curtsying, keeping one hand on Brianna’s shoulder. “And I do believe it is I who is at your service, my Lord. You’re the reason I’m no longer a widow, after all.”

He smiled, almost seeming uncomfortable as he put his hat back in place. “Yes, well, it was the least I could do,” he said. “And this is?��

“Brianna Fraser,” Claire said proudly, nudging the girl a bit so that she’d curtsy. “My daughter. Jamie’s daughter.”

“My God,” John breathed, his eyes wide with wonder. “No wonder she’s his spitting image. He never mentioned…”

“He never knew,” Claire said sadly. “I wasn’t showing until after Culloden. She was quite the surprise.” Claire gripped both of Brianna’s shoulders.

“Indeed,” John said. “Well, Mistress Fraser, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Brianna answered, her normally hybrid speech entirely posh, her nose stuck in the air. Claire briefly contemplated that perhaps her daughter was mocking John’s Englishness, but she quickly dismissed the thought.

“She doesn’t have the burr, then?” John said, amused.

“She has whatever she wants in the moment,” Claire said with a chuckle. “She’s quite the impressionist. Isn’t that right, darling?”

“Indeed, Mother,” she said in the same tone, staring John down, or up, rather.

Both of the adults chuckled, perhaps a bit uncomfortably.

“This is one of Da’s dearest friends, Brianna,” Claire said cheerily, squeezing her shoulders and looking down at her. “He’s the reason that he came home to us. I’d like it if we were all friends. Wouldn’t you?”

“I should indeed love to make the acquaintance of one of the King’s finest,” Brianna said rather obnoxiously, drawling the vowels like a veritable fop. “Even if he’s a bloody Redcoat,” she added, not skipping a beat, her accent remaining perfect.

“Brianna — !”

“John!”

Before Claire could scold her daughter’s behavior, Jamie came running from the side of the house, trailed closely by Rabbie, likely along to take care of John’s horse. John smiled uncomfortably at Claire before turning to greet Jamie as he quickly approached. Claire was rather shameless in how she admired her husband, glistening as he was with sweat from a long day in the fields, curls damp and wild, shirt slightly stained at the collar and clinging to him despite its loose fitting, exposing the overworked muscles beneath. She had to remind herself there was company, including that of their small daughter.

Dragging her eyes off of her husband’s beautifully made body, she immediately noticed she was not the only one aware of said beauty.

John immediately changed when Jamie came into view, in ways that Claire could not exactly put her finger on. He seemed lighter, as if being fed for the first time after months of starvation.

Christ...this isn’t attraction.

This man is in love with my husband.

“Christ, man, it’s good to see ye,” Jamie said enthusiastically, shaking John’s hand with fervor. “Ye’ve met her then? Ye met my wife? And my child?”

Any insecurity that had just seized Claire’s heart upon her realization melted away, and she strode contentedly to meet Jamie, pulling Brianna along by the hand. She smiled, standing at Jamie’s side and settling herself into him, warming to her core as Jamie draped an arm over her shoulder. She reveled in the smell of him; dirt, manure, sweat, and Jamie, his general masculinity.

“Yes, I’ve had the pleasure,” John said, smiling more genuinely at Claire. “Beautiful, both of them.”

“Thank ye, a charaid.” Jamie was warm against her, flushing with pride. “Can ye imagine? I had a bairn all those years and I hadnae a single clue.”

“I can’t imagine,” John said. “You must have been overjoyed.”

“Aye.” Jamie looked down at me, catching my eye sweetly, then winked down at Brianna. “She is...they both are my greatest joys.”

“It does my heart good to see you so happy, Jamie,” John’s voice became soft and light, his eyes glistening. “To have seen you through such pain, then to see you like this…” He stopped himself, seemingly overcome. Claire threaded her arm around Jamie, grasping at his side. “It’s overwhelming.”

“It is,” Jamie agreed. “There are still days I canna believe it’s true. I’m overwhelmed near every day at my luck. And it’s because of you, John. You are the reason I’ve got them back.”

He grasped John’s hand, tightly. Claire felt herself go flush, and she tightened her grip on Jamie’s side despite herself.

“I’d do it again and again, Jamie, no matter the risk.”

Their hands remained clasped together, and they maintained eye contact, and Claire suddenly felt like an unwelcome voyeur to something she did not fully understand.

He told me nothing happened. He told me nothing happened. He—

“Mummy,” Brianna piped, still not dropping her put-on airs. “I would quite enjoy something to eat.”

“Christ, a nighean, why’re ye speaking like yer mother?” Jamie wrinkled his nose down at Brianna, finally releasing John’s hand.

Brianna shot a look at John, her nostrils flared. “I’m hungry.”

“Alright, lovie. Go inside and ask Mary MacNab for something from the kitchen. We’ll be in.”

Claire briefly brushed a few curls away from Brianna’s face before the girl scampered inside, apparently all too eager to get away.

“I’m sorry…” Claire said once Brianna was inside. “She’s not normally so rude.”

“She was rude?” Jamie furrowed his brow.

“Before you got here, she called him a bloody Redcoat.”

Jamie snorted, then smiled crookedly at John. “Well, she isna wrong.”

Claire pinched Jamie’s side, causing him to jerk a bit.

“She also was most certainly mocking his speech,” Claire said. “She does that sometimes, impersonates the Redcoats that come by. To make her cousins laugh. I suppose she thought she’d try doing it to your face since she knows you’re a friend.”

“Yes, well,” John dipped his head a bit, clasping his hands behind his back. “I can’t say I blame her. I’ve heard brutal things.”

“Aye. My family suffered many an indignity in my absence at the hand of some Redcoat or another,” Jamie said, tightening his grip on Claire. “My brother-in-law told me Claire was beaten.”

“Oh, Jamie,” Claire said. “I wish he hadn’t…”

“No, I’m glad he did. Because if he ever returned — ”

“I know Lord John is a friend,” Claire interrupted quickly. “But perhaps it’s best either way to...refrain. From what you’re about to say. Or anything similar.”

Jamie nodded, tight-lipped. “Aye. Well, ye get the idea. The wean’s trust has been broken. Hers and the rest of my family, unfortunately. My sister is none too pleased ye’re here.”

“Brianna has had to lie to protect me, us, all her life,” Claire said softly. “She saw me bruised and bloodied after that beating. She’s...she’s only eight. Back then she was only six. It’s...difficult to conceptualize a ‘good Redcoat’. For everyone, not just her.”

“I understand,” John said. “Believe me, I do. The last thing I want is to make anybody uncomfortable. I’ll just fill out the report and be on my way.”

“Ye mean just leave?” Jamie said, incredulous. “I’ll no’ have that. Ye’ve been traveling fer days, no doubt, no’ a home-cooked meal in sight.”

“Well, yes — ”

“And beds at an inn arena so comfortable, I ken it well.”

“Stay the night?” Claire said, perhaps a little too abruptly. “Do you think that’s the best idea? You know...Jenny?” she added quickly.

Not because I’m threatened...because of Jenny.

“Jenny can hang,” Jamie said, genially. “This man sacrificed his own safety to see me home. Right this minute he’s putting himself in danger, knowing as he does I’m no Mister Malcolm. The least we can do fer him is give him some leisure, good food, and a warm bed. Fer one night.”

Claire sighed. “Alright. But you are talking to Jenny.”

John chuckled, oblivious as to just how much he should fear Janet Fraser Murray.

“Speaking of Mister Malcolm, should I mention a Mistress Malcolm in my report?” John asked.

“Well...the other officers who’ve come by know me as a Fraser cousin, and a Scot at that,” Claire said uneasily. “Elizabeth Fraser.”

“I suppose I could say Mister Malcolm was made a widower during his time in prison, and that he’s remarried to the previously unmarried Fraser cousin. Would that make it easier for you both to live your lives together?”

Jamie and Claire exchanged a look. “What d’ye think, mo ghraidh? Any interest in being Mrs. Malcolm?”

She hummed an amused laugh. “It would be an honor.”

He leaned in to kiss her sweetly, and Claire was so swept up in the moment, she nearly forgot John was standing right in front of them.

“I thank ye, John,” Jamie said warmly.

“We thank you,” Claire corrected, smiling at John while embracing Jamie, “my friend.”

“It is a privilege to be known as such by such a woman,” John said with a small bow of his head.

“Shall I show ye around the grounds, then?” Jamie said, excited. “The lads are in the fields waiting fer me to return, but they can surely wait. Fergus can lead.”

“Fergus. Your son?” John said, as if recalling.

“Aye,” Jamie said, swelling with pride. “Ye’ll meet him at supper.”

Claire nearly offered to show John around herself so that Jamie may get back to work, but she knew that he was proud of his ancestral home and that he would find great joy in showing his friend all there was to see.

But she was too curious to pass up the opportunity to be alone with John for a few minutes.

“Why don’t you tell the lads you won’t be back so they’re not waiting for you? The last thing we need is Jenny’s wrath that productivity was slowed for all this,” Claire said.

“Aye, ye’re right.”

“We’ll wait for you in the stables, I’ll show him the stock.”

Jamie made a Scottish noise of approval, squeezing Claire to him and kissing her temple before darting off to the fields.

“Shall we?”

Claire looked up to see that John was offering her his arm. She curtsied slightly before accepting, fitting her arm in the crook of his elbow before heading off around the house and toward the stables.

“You have no idea how often he spoke of you,” John said, seemingly out of nowhere. “He loves you dearly.”

“I know,” Claire said. “I can assure you it is equally returned. Believing him dead was...nothing short of horrific. For eight years.”

“I am sorry,” John said, sincerely. “If there were a way to get word to you safely…”

“Please, don’t. You’ve risked yourself enough as it is.” Claire gave his arm a squeeze, offering him a reassuring smile.

A small silence passed between them, nothing to be heard but the bleating of the goats, the clucking of the chickens, and the leaves rustling around them.

“You love him,” Claire said.

John stiffened against her, nearly stopping in his tracks. “No, I hardly know what — ”

“It wasn’t a question,” Claire said, strengthening her resolve a bit, hardening her jaw. “Jamie told me of your predilections.”

He made to pull away, panicked. “Madame, I — ”

“It’s alright, my Lord.” Claire tightened her grip, not letting him get away. “Where I come from...such things are not so taboo.”

He gawked at her. “I’d certainly like to know where that is.”

“It’s...hard to explain,” Claire said wistfully.

John cleared his throat. “How...how much did he tell you?”

“He told me of your friend that you lost. Which…I am sorry for that loss.”

“Thank you,” he said, his voice tight.

“And he told me how you...looked at him. And now that you’re here...I see it.” Claire looked away, staring ahead at the stables as they came into closer view. “You look at him the way he looks at me.”

“I…” John sighed. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I’m not sure either.” Claire kept her gaze ahead, uncomfortably aware of their closeness. “In a way, selfishly...I’m glad you love him so much. Because that’s what brought him back to me. But it’s...cruel, isn’t it?”

“How is that?”

“Because he...he’s not…” Claire almost stopped, as John nearly had before. “He isn’t. Is he?”

John chuckled softly, smiling sadly. “There were a few times where I thought perhaps he might be. But his heart belongs to only one.”

Claire could feel his eyes on her, so she turned her head, making uncomfortable eye contact. “So you really never…”

“No, Madame, I did not. We did not.” He did stop then, looking at her seriously. “I’d never met you, of course, but I’d not be able to live with myself if I was part of betraying you.” He started walking again, his more serious point made. “I confess I hardly even had the desire, knowing as I did how madly he loves you.”

“Hardly?” Claire’s brow furrowed.

“Well…” She could feel the heat from his blush radiating off of him. “I couldn’t say never. That would be a lie. And I do pride myself on my honesty.” His words were clipped and terse; Claire almost regretted bringing it up. “You could say the mind was willing, but the flesh was weak. In a way.”

Claire nodded slowly, staring ahead again. “If it...weren’t for me. Would you have?”

She felt him stiffen again. “No. It would be an abuse of my power over him. Such a thing would be despicable.”

Despite his discomfort, Claire could hear the genuineness in his voice. It was a comfort to know, but that still wasn’t what she meant.

“What if...that wasn’t an issue?” she pressed further. “Would you have?”

She heard him swallow. “Well...yes. I’d have tried.”

Claire nodded. “Would he…?”

“You know him better than I do,” John said, not a hint of malice. He meant it.

“I’m...I’m not so sure about that,” Claire said, sounding more sad than she’d meant to. “I just mean it’s...it’s been eight years. A lot of things can change in that time. People change.”

“While that may be true, Madame Fraser, one thing has not changed,” he stopped again, turning to face her, taking both of her hands in his, “and that is the love he bears you. That I can assure you.”

Claire forced a smile, gratefully squeezing his hand.

“God, you are a dreadfully forward woman,” he said, chuckling.

“I’ve always been terribly honest,” she said sheepishly.

“While frightening, I don’t find that necessarily a detriment,” he said lightly. He offered his arm again, and she took it much less hesitantly, leading the rest of the way to the stables.

“Do you know that I bear you no ill will?” John said rather suddenly. “I realize how shallow of a promise that may seem, given that you have everything I’ve ever wanted and could never have. But it’s true.” Claire felt shame burning in her core to think of her initial reaction to the depth of John’s feelings. “Do you know what I said to Jamie after he was freed?”

“Cherish that wife of yours, Fraser,” Claire quoted fondly. “He told me.”

“Did he tell you why I said it?”

“No?”

“He asked me what he could do to repay me,” John said.

Claire felt an unexpected rush of tears, suddenly overcome with something resembling pity, mixed with immense gratitude. She squeezed his arm and looked at him.

“Thank you, my Lord.”

“John,” he corrected lightly. “Please.”

“Then I’m Claire,” she echoed, “John.”

“Alright, Claire.”

They finally reached the stables, and Claire took the initiative to introduce him to all of the horses. Rabbie was in a stall with John’s horse, still brushing the beast down as he gnawed on his hay. John was absolutely tickled when Claire introduced Alastair as Brianna’s horse.

“Takes after her father, then?”

“Quite. She’d been begging me to ride since she could talk. I delayed it for years because of her condition.”

“Condition?” John’s brow furrowed, concerned.

“Oh, she’s perfectly healthy. Just...leftover complications from a difficult birth. If she fell it could kill her. I’m just...paranoid.”

“I see,” John said, though he still seemed concerned. “Does Jamie know?”

“Do I know what?” Jamie appeared in the doorway of the stables.

“Brianna’s condition,” Claire said, welcoming Jamie back into her arms.

“Oh, aye, I ken all about that,” Jamie said. “She’s a fighter, my daughter. Braw wee thing.”

“I can tell,” John said, smiling knowingly.

“Alright,” Jamie said, taking the place that John had just had, settling Claire’s arm in the crook of his elbow. “Ye’re acquainted wi’ the beasts, aye? Shall we move on to the rest of the land?”

Claire and John exchanged a fond look before both looking up at Jamie.

“We shall,” John said.

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unloved-cadillac · 3 years

Text

All Over Again(Levi x Reader)

After regaining his memories, Levi is in high school searching for Y/n, his past Queen in which he served under. But after he does, she doesn’t remember him nor her past. Can Levi make her remember or will he make her fall in love with him again?

𝖶𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌: 3.4𝗄

Reincarnation was the norm in the new world. After many lives lost, they were found a lifetime later. Many got lucky in the sense of finding their other half from their previous life. Either it’s by accident or glimpses of their face in dreams that drove a person to find them. Although, not everyone remembers their past lives. And, boy, does it suck for their friends who do.

In Levi’s case, it was his previous queen who didn’t remember him. Who also happens to be his lover.

His dreams were filled with her ever since he can remember. Her beautiful h/c hair flowing in the wind while they rode on their horses, her sparkling eyes when she spoke of her new book. Her plump rosy lips that made him want to kiss her forever. What he gathered from his memories, he was some kind of knight that was under an oath to protect the L/n family who was the royal family at that time. Levi also found out that he had fallen hopelessly in love with the princess. Y/n L/n. Well, at the time she was a princess when he fell for her. Levi was a mere soldier when he was picked to be one of the royal guards sent to protect Sina’s flower.

“Hey! Levi! You’re daydreaming again!” Hange yells out while tapping his shoulder. “Huh? Oh. Sorry.” Levi snaps back to reality. He was in class. English to be precise. He hated English. But he remembered Y/n telling him that she was very fond of writing and reading so he tried for her. “Thinking of her again?” Hange asks with a broad smile on her face. Hange was also part of that era with them. As a matter of fact, she was the closest friend apart from Levi since Hange helped in the castle’s science field. “Shut up, Shitty Glasses.” Levi groans and wipes his face. “I have a new memory of her.” Hange tells him and he looks back up at her. “What was it?” “Well, we were in the lab and I spilled some kind of solute on her and it burned her left hand by a mistake. Even though she was hurting she laughed which in turn made me laugh. You even slapped my head. Ouch.” Hange tells Levi and chuckles. “But that was also the moment that she kissed you.” Levi’s eyes widened and a faint blush formed on his cheeks. “Yeah. I remember spying on the two of you and she kissed your cheek while you dressed her wound. It was cute.” Hange continues and smiles.

As Levi was about to say something, their school bell rang, indicating the end of the school day. They packed their bags and walked out together. “How am I gonna find her, Hange?” Levi asks and Hange sighs. “I don’t know, Levi. It was by pure luck we found each other. Maybe in time she’ll turn up.” She pats his back as they walk home. Yeah. In time.

~~~~

The following day, Levi was in his home room class with Hange when their teacher came. “Alright, kids. Today I bring some good news! We have a new student joining us today!” He exclaims making Levi groan at his loudness. Pixis was always so damn enthusiastic about everything and it was a pain in the ass sometimes. As this man spoke, Levi thought of Y/n. He was willing to walk out this damn school and the life he had here just to find her. She had his heart for so long and all he wanted to do was hold her on his arms again.

“Ok, kiddo. You can come in now.” Pixis says and the door opens. Levi had his head on his table, trying to catch a few winks before 1st period but that was disturbed when Hange shoved him awake. “Jesus, shitty glasses. The fuck you want?” He questions her and Hange had her mouth agape and her eyes wide. So wide, her eyes were for sure going to pop out of her skull in a few moments. “Oi, Hange. What’s wrong?” All she does is point to the front of the class and he turns his head to look at what his friend pointed at. That was where he almost started crying.

“Hello, everyone. I’m Y/n L/n. I’m glad to be part of your class!” Y/n says and smiles a bright smile. Levi almost fainted from what he was seeing and hearing. She was here. This wasn’t a dream nor a memory. She was right in front of him, smiling a smile he hadn’t seen in forever. “Y/n, there’s a seat right there by the window. Go on.” Pixis tells her and she walks to the table and sits herself on the seat. She sat in the third seat from the front in the row next to Levi’s. But he sat right in the back with Hange so they couldn’t speak to her. Hange and Levi shared a look before the bell rang. As everyone started to leave, Levi and Hange walked up to her. Levi’s heart was beating a million miles per hour. This was it. He was finally going to hear her voice after so long and he will have her again. “Uhm, Y/n?” Hange called to her and Y/n turned around and smiled. “Hello.” She says. Hange looked at Levi and Levi looked at Y/n. “Hi, Y/n.” He says and she smiles. “Hello.” She says again and Hange launches herself onto her making Y/n almost fall over. “Oh, Y/n! I’m so happy that we found you! You have no idea how long we waited for you! I’ve missed you so much!” Hange cries out and all Y/n does is pay her back. Hange could feel her resistance and pulls away to look at Y/n’s confused face. “Y/n?” “I’m sorry. Do we know each other?” She asks and Levi’s heart just drops. Hange looks at her then Levi. “What?” Hange asks Levi and he doesn’t say a word. “I’m gonna be late to my first class. Goodbye.” Y/n says pulling away from the awkward scene and walks out the class, leaving Levi and Hange with a broken heart.

“What the fuck, Levi?!” Hange yells out while they sit in the cafeteria. Levi’s eyes were trained on Y/n while she spoke with some people. Y/n stopped and looked at him. He blinked and continued to look at her. She blushed and looked away. He smirks knowing that even if she doesn’t remember them, he still could do that to her. “Guys!” A friendly voice calls out to them. Turning around they see Armin walking up to them with a book. “Armin! Hi.” Hange says and Levi greets him with a “hey.” Armin sits next to them and places the book in front of them. “So, I read up on your little situation with Y/n and I might have a solution.” Armin says and Levi looks at him sharply. “Explain.” Levi says and Armin opens the book. It’s old, with a brown cover that was filled with little designs. “I found this book in the library. It was written by someone who was always reincarnated and in this page,” he points to the book, “it explains what he experienced when his friends couldn’t remember him.” Levi grabs the book and starts reading it.

..and man was I bummed. The four closest people to me couldn’t remember each other and me. Funny how I did but they didn’t. I kept on trying, for almost two months, to speak to them. To tell them about the adventures we had in our lives. But none of them budged. I was getting really impatient. Not only did I feel alone, two of them were destined to be together and they never even looked at each other. So I stayed up for countless nights, trying to find a way to jolt their memories. Something must’ve happened that was a constant in our lives. I’m sure previous life me is laughing at my face now. Anyway, I wrote everything down from what I could remember. Four lives. I wrote everything for four lives worth. And there was a thing that was a bit constant.

In my first life, we were in the times of mythical creatures. Maria and I were playing with a small dragon and it burned her arm. All of us laughed and helped her treat it. In my second life, we were in medieval times and a horse bit her hand. In my third, we were in a forest and Maria didn’t know the three of us. But when my cat scratched her, she gasped and fell down. Then she leaped into my arms telling me about our lives. In my fourth, I was a soldier and Maria had been shot. The five of us smiled at each other and then we died.

After coming up with the conclusion that Maria had to be injured in some way for her to remember, I set a plan. Since I wasn’t the cause of any of her injuries, it was something that did it. A creature or animal. The next day, I went to Maria and told her to meet me behind our school yard. She was hesitant, of course. But she showed up anyway. I told the others and they all showed up. Mostly because I used their interests to lure them there. When they showed, I had a dog. Tim was my big Saint Bernard who could never harm anyone unless I said so. When I pointed to Maria, he ran up to her and pushed her on the ground. His claws mistakenly scratched her and I quickly pulled him away. No one did anything. They all just stared at each other. Maria looked at her arm and then up at me. Tears filled her eyes and she leaped into my arms. She whispered to me that she remembers. I smiled and hugged her back while the others joined in. When we pulled away, the two that were destined to be together kissed. We were back together and that’s all I wanted.

Levi sighed and handed the book back to Armin. “So, we need to find a constant. Something that happened before that will jolt her memory.” Levi says and Armin nods. “Yup. Is there anything that might work?” He asks. “There is one. But here’s the thing: we only remember our one past life. For what we know, this is our first time being like this. So how can we be sure it will work? What if we fuck it up?” Hange asks with a worry. “Then we start fresh.” Levi answers while still looking at Y/n. “Ok. Well, let’s meet up at the cafe later and we can talk about it.” Hange proposes and Levi hums in agreement. “Oh! Armin! How is Annie?” Hange asks and Armin blushes. “She’s good. Her school is far away so we hardly see each other. But we Skype and stuff so I guess we’re okay.” He replies. “Your past life is so cool, dude. Being a merchant and falling for a soldier. You must tell me more one day,” Hange excitedly says and Armin smiles. “Of course.” Those two ramble on while Levi thinks of how he could win his queen’s memories back.

~~~~

At the cafe, Levi and Hange talk over coffee and tea. They were brainstorming and Hange speaks. “Levi, maybe we should try that burning thing on her.” “I hate having to hurt her. Isn’t there something else?” Levi asks while sipping his tea. “The thing is, I can’t remember anything else that might work.” Hange explains and he sighs. They continued to speak when Levi heard the cafe bell ring. Out of curiosity, he looks at who entered and he quickly slapped Hange to look. “Ow, Levi! Not so hard. Oh.” She stops and looks at Y/n. She was with some girl and it looked like she didn’t know they were here either. Hange groans and looks back at Levi. “I miss her. That should be me dragging her everywhere,” she says. Y/n and her friend order drinks and it looks like they weren’t staying. Since their drinks were in take-away cups. A man stood behind the pair and Levi narrowed his eyes. The man leaned down in between the girls, making them startle. “Hey ladies.” Levi heard the man speak but the rest was soft. Levi saw the man’s hand making its way to Y/n’s back. “Uhm, I’ll appreciate it if you kept your hands off of me and my friend, sir.” Y/n says and Levi smirks. Yup, definitely his Queen. “Oh, come on doll. I know you like having a man holding you.” He replies and his hand was going to grab her ass when Levi stepped in and grabbed his wrist. “What the..?” “You heard her. Keep your hands off of them,” he says sternly and Y/n looks at him. Suddenly, Y/n flinches and holds her head.

“This prince doesn’t seem to understand that I do not want to marry him,” Y/n whispers to herself while the prince continued to babble on and on about how rich his father was and how good they would be together. “So, princess,” he leans towards her, “what do you say we go up to your massive chambers and have some fun?” He moves his hand to grab her waist when another arm grabs his. “Levi!” Y/n says and Levi twists the prince’s arm. “Keep your hands off of her,” he says and throws the prince on the floor. He looks at Y/n and cups her cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Are you okay?” Y/n snaps out of her memory and looks around her. What was that? She looks at Levi who was eyeing her carefully. “Did he hurt you?” He asks and she shakes her head. “I..I need to go.” She goes past Levi and walks out. “Thanks Levi. I owe you one,” the girl says and walks out with the drinks to Y/n. “Hey.” Levi turns to the barista. “Levi, right? Thank you. For saving them. You’re welcome here anytime for free.” He says and Levi nods. He goes to sit back down with Hange and looks at her. “What?” He questions her smug face. “She remembered something,” she replies and Levi scoffs. “Sure.” “Really, Levi! She did. If she didn’t she wouldn’t have held her head or would’ve thanked you! We’re getting close.”

~~~~

“Oh my god. What was that?” Y/n whispers to herself as she gets ready for bed. She remembers her faint dreams that she had. All of them were of this boy. He looked just like Levi. Now that she saw him in real life, her heart fluttered all the time and the sense of pure love radiates from him. She knows the whole story about reincarnation. Her friend told her of her past life and how she and her girlfriend were there together. “Why can’t I remember?” She holds her head and groans. “He means something to me! I know he does! Shit.” She says and falls into her bed. Maybe her dreams will give her some answers.

Back at the palace, Y/n was reading her book while Levi stood guard by her door. Looking up from the book, she catches Levi looking at her but he quickly looks ahead when she does. Closing her book, she sets it on the table and walks up to him. “Levi.” She calls his name. “Yes, your majesty?” He responds. She wraps her arms around his neck forcing him to look at her. “You know you don’t have to be so stern when you're with me alone, right?” She asks and he looks down at her. “I hated those men looking at you today,” he suddenly says and she gasps. “Was my knight, perhaps jealous of said men?” She slyly asks while he scoffs but doesn’t answer. “Is that a yes?! Oh I knew it!” She giggles and he looks at her. Y/n calms down and cups his cheek. “Your Queen orders you to give her a kiss.” She says. “I don’t need to be ordered to do that,” he responds and places his lips on hers for a soft, loving kiss.

Levi wakes up after his dream. “Another memory. Fuck,” he sighs as he runs his hand through his hair. “Y/n. Remember me. Please.”

“Y/N! RUN! GO AWAY FROM HERE!” “NOT WITHOUT YOU, IDIOT!” “FOR GOD’S SAKE Y/N LISTEN TO ME!” Levi yells back at her. He swings his sword back and forth fighting the enemy while guarding his Queen. He turns to look at her and sees an arrow flying towards her. He runs in front of her with the intention to block it from piercing through her. Instead it pierced him. He saw her eyes widen and looked down at the arrow. “L-Levi,” she whispers to him as her tears fall. He couldn’t hold on for much longer. So he quickly kisses her and he leans on her. “I love you, Y/n.”

“LEVI! NO!” Y/n yells out, springing up from her bed. She pants and tries to catch her breath. She feels her cheeks which were now soaked with tears. Her hands were shaking. It felt so real. “Levi. Queen. It all makes sense now.” She whispers to herself and wakes up to go to her bathroom to wash her face. As the water hit her face, another memory ran through her mind. His funeral. It was pouring down and Y/n looked up to feel the rain hit her face. “I love you, Levi.” Y/n looks at herself in the mirror and smiles. “Finally.”

~~~~

Levi and Hange walk to their class while Hange goes over their plan. “Ok. So, I’m gonna take Y/n to our science lab, okay? You will be outside watching like how you did back then. I’m gonna show her some cool experiments and I’m gonna accidentally hurt her. When she yells out or like cusses at me or something, you come in and ask me what happened. You will take her hand and look at it while she looks at you. Then, you take her to the nurses office and help her wound and get all lovey dovey. Then you look at her, staring into her eyes oh so lovingly and then you will lean in and she will then you both will..-“ “ALRIGHT, HANGE! I get the idea!” Levi puts a hand over her mouth to shut her up and she chuckles. She looks ahead and sees the person they were just speaking about. Hange points to her and Levi looks. There Y/n stood. With an apple and caramel muffins.

Levi and Hange stop dead in their tracks and look at her. Y/n smiles and walks up to them. “Hange.” She says and Hange smiles. “I remember you telling me once that you loved the caramel muffins I got for you. So here,” she hands her the container. Hange eyes sparkle and take the box. She looks at Y/n and brings her in a bear hug. “Oh Y/n! Y/n! I’m so happy you remember me! I’m so happy!” Hange yells out and Y/n laughs at her long lost friend. Setting her down, Hange looks at Levi who had his own smile on his face. “I’ll leave you two be, your majesty.” Hange says softly and Y/n giggles at the name. Levi looks at Y/n with adoration in his eyes and Y/n smiles while holding out the apple. “And my knight told me that his favorite fruit was an apple.” Y/n says as some happy tears fall down her bright face. Levi moves to her and wipes her tears away. “You remember me?” Levi asks and she nods. “I remember. I remember us. Levi, last night I, I saw how you died. You died protecting me. You saved me, Levi. You saved me, baby,” she whispers and holds his face. “Yeah. I told you. I’ll always protect you.” Levi replies with tears falling down his face and Y/n crashes her lips with his. He wrapped his arms around her waist and twirled her around. He settled her back down but kept her in his arms.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers into her lips. “And I’ve missed you.” She says and hugs him. He pulls away and looks at her. “Just know, that I’ll do it all over again for you.”

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princessmariaphiliper · 3 years

Text

A Midsummer Daydream | Oneshot

Summary: You and James are friends at school and he’s started to change recently. For a reason yet to be disclosed.

Notes: James Acaster,

Pairing: James Acaster x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Oneshot, Highschool AU

Words: 1, 642

Hello all my girls gays and theys! Hope you’re all doing well, I’ve finally finished the one shot requested by @laurabeech

“a one shot where awkward lanky teenage James attempting to ask a girl out on at date at school, he tries to overplay being cool and she tells him he doesn’t need to” Not sure I hit the nail on the head totally this one, I tried to channel my inner high-schooler but I hope it can still quench your thirst for James during the dryness of the panini. Stay safe an I love you all xoxo

You’d had a crush on James for ages. The two of you had been friends for a long time hanging around with the same group of people. And for what seemed like the moment you met you instantly began liking him. His lanky, awkward composure and quick wit charming you into wanting him to be yours. The two of you would spend lunches together with friends, but once school was finished you’d relish in having one on one time with him. Both of you walking in the same direction home. Sometimes you’d stop by the park if it was hot, de-stressing from the day of studies.

He was acting differently around you recently and you’d started to notice. His demeanour was vicious as though he was trying to emphasise his masculinity. It was nothing major, just offhand comments and the adoption of traits that didn’t seem to fit his usual personality. It didn’t suit him to be whatever he was trying to become. And this Friday afternoon it was starting to make a difference to your attitude.

You sat on the picnic bench in ‘middle yard’ with a group of mates. Chewing on a sandwich and chatting happily. The sun was shining and you were chatting shit about the homework you hadn’t done that was due next period. James and another friend approached the table, you scooted naturally across to allow him to sit next to you. He thanked you quietly with a shy nod, chewing a hole in the bottom of the plastic juice carton in hand to drink from it.

“What you saying?” He asked. Recently having adopted stereotypical ‘cool’ lingo that all the ‘cool’ kids were using.

“Nothing just chatting about the English homework,” You responded.

“Oh I’m not doing that,”

“Why?”

“I can’t be arsed.” He replied, face going cold and unlike him. “Hate Great Gatsby.”

You sat baffled, eyebrows furrowing at him. Not two months ago the two of you’d been chatting about your favourite books. James had admitted that before you’d started studying it at school James had already read it twice. Knowing that he was lying to the group, you challenged him on it.

“I thought you said you liked it?”

“Yeah well people change” He said with a hint of sass, making your mates around you chuckle. His attitude felt mean, upsetting you. But you decided to brush it off with a snide comment.

“Alright don’t have to be a dick about it James.

“I’m not being a dick. It’s called having a social life.” You glared at him, unimpressed by this statement. Budging your leg away from touching his own on the bench. You didn’t speak to him again for the remainder of lunch.

And so once it was time for the two of you to walk home you’d grown all the more annoyed with him. You left your maths class, bag slung over your shoulder, school jumper wrapped around your waist. Half intending on continuing your ignorance towards James you became conflicted once you saw he was already waiting for you in middle yard.

He too had taken off his jumper and was sitting on one of the tables under the rain shelter. His lanky legs stretched out on the bench where his rucksack rested. The two of you made eye contact as you made your way across the yard. The blonde in his hair glistening in the afternoon glow, he lent back on the palms of his hands as you approached, giving you a shy smile. And as much as you wanted to keep your anger, but the moment the corner of his lip curled all of your annoyance melted away.

“Hey,” He greeted you. His tone was softer when people weren't around, he jumped off the bench, pointing at you playfully with both hands. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah.” You decided blunt answers would be your way to get your point across.

“You okay?”

“Amazing.”

“You don’t sound it,”

“Hmm.” You spoke, beginning to walk past him towards the gates of the school ground. He grabbed his bag and followed hot on your case like a lost puppy. You walked in silence for some time, following the waves of people flooding out of the school. The air was light-hearted between seemingly the whole school with that Friday feeling, causing you and James to stick out like sore thumbs. Your usual enthusiastic and animated chats a contrast to your standoffish natures today. You walked past two of James’s close friends, a couple called Alice and Sam, waving you a hello as you continued your journey. Alice was a pretty girl, seemingly too pretty for a guy like Samuel who was quite possibly your least favourite friend of James’s.

Samuel seemed to be where James had been getting the recent douche attitude from, so as soon as your eyes locked on them you didn’t shy away from letting out a sigh of annoyance.

“Pissed off your bird James, or she just on her period?” Sam spat cockily as the two of you passed. Making your face scrunch up in disgust. You half turned your face to meet him, ready to give him a piece of your mind how you were not a ‘bird’ but a human being, and that yes James had annoyed you, but it was most likely because of Sam that he was acting a prick. And that whether you were bleeding or not was none of his business (Obviously throwing in that James and you were just friends) Yet before even your profile was twisted around James was already talking back to him.

“Fuck off Sam,” He replied, “And grow up, you sound like a twat.”

James caught up to speed with you then, gently ushering you away from him and Alice, obviously not wanting a prolonged event this afternoon. As much as you knew James was a kind soul, you thought maybe because of how he’d been acting that he wouldn’t stick up against such backhanded sexism. Especially when it had come from one of his pals. You did a bit of a double take, having to process what had just happened within the next few minutes of walking alone with him. Eventually you decided to break your vow of silence to give him a gentle thank you.

“Its okay Sam’s just a dick.”

“You’ve been acting a dick too lately.”

“I have?”

“Yeah.”

“Since when?”

“I guess,” You pondered for a moment, trying to pinpoint an exact moment when James’s attitude begun to change. “Harry’s house party?”

“Oh.” James rubbed the back of his neck nervously, looking his feet to avoid the eye contact with you now. You looked at him as he walked on your right hand side, the glow of the sun being blocked by your head, casting a shadow on his face in the shape of you. “I guess I’ve got things a bit wrong.”

His term of phrase confused you. You genuinely couldn’t comprehend his meaning, and so you pressed him for answers.

“What do you mean?”

“Well-“ He started but lost confidence, trying his best to glance at you from under his hair.

“Go on.”

“I just thought that you were into guys like that?”

Furrowing your brow and widening your eyes slightly you stared at James in disbelief. “What?”

“Like- you know. ‘Badboys’.”

“What gave you that impression?” You stopped walking momentarily, pulling James to sit on a nearby wall next to you. The flow of people dying off now and the street becoming more peaceful a place for conversation.

“Well as Harry’s you kept talking about how much you liked the guy in 10 things I hate about you.” He admitted sitting down next to you for the second time today. “I think in my head I’ve been trying to become an asshole since then.”

“Why James? That doesn’t make any sense!”

“To impress you?”

“You want to impress me all of a sudden?” You asked, confusion hanging on your face.

“Yeah.” He paused, turning his face to the right away from you. “I just wanted you to like me I guess.”

“I do like you James, or I did before you started acting a dick.”

“No I mean. Like-like me.”

Heart rolling into your mouth you couldn’t breathe. Was James Acaster confessing to you? You pressed the question just to make sure, you also trying to look anywhere but towards him. You squinted at the sun, noting it wasn’t your best option. But you felt the need pain was necessary to remind you that you were not living in a dream.

“Why do you want me to like you?”

“Because I like you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Since when?”

“I’ve like you for ages Y/n.”

He turned back to face you, his movement causing you to look away from the sun. His body had a grey tinge to it as your eyes readjusted to the light. You couldn’t quite believe what happening, your mouth began running on its own. Cards on the table.

“Me too James.”

“You have” He quizzed, obviously bewildered by the statement.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because you make me smile and I don’t feel I can be myself as much around people as when I’m with you.” You blushed, hoping he wouldn’t notice you shying away. “You didn’t have to change to try and impress me, I’ve liked you for so long I don’t even remember when it started.”

“Oh.” James contemplated for a moment before a bright smile beamed on his face. “Well… maybe we could go out at the weekend? I’ll get you a hot chocolate as a ‘sorry for being an arsehole’ gift?”

You met his eyes, feeling a sense of warmth and belonging in them.

“I’d like that James. Do you want to stay here a while?”

“As long as I’m with you I’m happy.”

#james acaster imagines #james acaster x reader #james acaster fanfic #james acaster oneshot

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dangerouscommiesubversive · 3 years

Text

fought on your side long before you were born

Fandom: Kamen Rider, Batman, Kamen Rider W Characters: Hongo Takeshi, Tachibana Tobei, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Hidari Shoutaro, Philip, Damian Wayne Song: "Father to Son," Queen (playlist here)

1977

Tachibana’s got a shop now, something he can use to support his family now that he isn’t traveling, and the first thing that greets Takeshi as he walks in is the thick smell of motor oil. There’s a bike in pieces at one end of the shop floor around which several young men are clustered, arguing cheerfully. Another young man is sitting in a corner near them, inexplicably playing acoustic guitar and responding briefly whenever he’s addressed. It’s new, but it feels like home, and Takeshi can feel his shoulders instinctively relaxing.

“Hongo!” Tachibana himself emerges from the shop office, beaming. “When’d you get back to Japan?”

“Just now, I came right here.”

“Damn right you did.” There’s some hugging and back-slapping and general affectionate ribbing, and then Tachibana says, “So what do you think? Nice place, right?”

“It’s wonderful. How’s your son?”

“Healthy as a horse, running me and Mari ragged.” Tachibana gestures to the huddle of young men at the other end of the room. “Plenty of help around here, though.”

Takeshi grins. “I can see that. Who’s the one with the guitar?”

“Oh, him? American kid. Funny story, really, I’m closing up one day when this young guy just materializes—no, not literally, he’s just real quiet—and asks, am I Tachibana Tobei? Only Dr. Jin in Madrid says I’m the best in the world and will I teach him about motorcycles! And he hands me a letter of introduction from Keisuke!” Tachibana sounds like he’s holding back laughter. “So he’s renting our spare room at the house and working here for a few months. Quick study, too. Shiro taught him guitar, he’s in town for a bit and they hit it off. Here, come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

They head over to the disassembled motorcycle, and the young men fall all over themselves to be introduced, which Takeshi bears with good cheer. They’re young, of course they’re enthusiasts.

The American boy is last, and Takeshi is shocked to realize that he is a boy, no more than eighteen or nineteen, a pale youth with blue eyes and a lonely look that reminds Takeshi of Shiro. No wonder they get along. He sets his guitar aside and bows, stiff and solemn, and says, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hongo. Mr. Tachibana talks about you a lot.”

“That I do! Hongo, this is Bruce Wayne, he’s the summer guest I was telling you about.”

“Good to meet you, Wayne. Your accent is excellent.” The boy’s got a firm handshake. “What brings you to Japan?”

“Study, sir,” but the boy’s tone says that’s not all of it. “I’m trying to learn all I can. Maybe I could ask you a few things later, if you don’t mind.”

Takeshi blinks. “Not sure what you’d want to ask, but I don’t see why not.”

He eats dinner at Tachibana’s house that evening, because of course Tachibana isn’t going to let him get away unfed his first night back in town. Mari greets him at the door, Joji in her arms, beaming.

He’s intially surprised to see that the American boy is there too, until he remembers, of course he is—Wayne’s renting the spare room. And he’s barely noticeable for most of the meal, silent, although he’s clearly listening to everything that’s said. After dinner he also helps Mari with the dishes, entirely unprompted, which Takeshi approves of, and then spends some time gently entertaining the toddler.

Later, Tachibana and Mari step away for a moment to get their son to bed, and Takeshi looks at the silent young man sitting in the corner and says, “So. Wayne.”

“Yes, Mr. Hongo?”

“You said you had something you wanted to ask me, and we’ve got a few minutes now. What can I help you with?”

Wayne remains quiet for a long moment, and then fixes those piercing eyes on Takeshi and says, “Mr. Tachibana says you’re the strongest person he knows. What does it mean to be strong?”

Not what Takeshi had been expecting. Granted, what he wasexpecting, he doesn’t know, but…not that. He thinks about it, frowning. “I’d say…kindness.”

Wayne’s forehead wrinkles. “What do you mean?”

“Look, Wayne, you can get as powerful as you want in life, but it’s only strength if you can use it to be kind. Otherwise it’s just tyranny.” Takeshi leans forward and holds out his hand, as if to shake. “Anyone, any fool on Earth can take their hand and make it into a fist. To reach out to someone when they need help, that’s strength.”

Slow nodding, and Wayne reaches out to him in return, clasps his hand for a brief moment, and says, “Thank you. That’s a valuable insight.”

Takeshi nods. “Ask Tachibana that question, too, and Shiro. It’s a good thing to ask. Tells you a lot about the person answering.” He considers it for a moment. “Of course, there will always be some people you won’t be able to help, we share this world with monsters. But you must always try to be kind. That’s strength.”

2017

Bruce checks his watch as he walks up to the restaurant, satisfied to be a precise fifteen minutes early, and then looks up and is surprised to realize that for once Dick’s beaten him there. Not only is he there, too, he’s talking to someone Bruce doesn’t recognize.

The stranger seems to be about Dick’s own age, a man in a black fedora and slightly old-fashioned dress clothes from a minor Japanese fashion label. His tone suggests an awkward tourist, but his stance says he’s a fighter, and the way he watches his surroundings indicates that he’s memorizing as many details as possible. He’s got a guidebook in one hand, and a notebook sticking out of his pocket, and he’s speaking Japanese, which is not one of Dick’s stronger languages. Bruce steps forward, thinking he might need to translate, but Dick replies to the other man in English, which is met with a thoughtful nod. So—they’re about the same level in each other’s languages. Better at hearing than speaking. Convenient for them.

“—so if you’re looking for something in his field, the natural history museum is great. If you want somewhere more romantic,though, the Thorndike is amazing, and there’s this restaurant right near it, I forget the name—oh, hey, Bruce! You’re here! What’s the name of that restaurant across the street from the Thorndike Museum?”

“San Sebastian Jatetxe.”

“That’s the one! Thank you!” Dick beams at him, then turns to his companion. “I’ll write it down for you.”

“<Thank you, I’d appreciate that.>”

“Of course! This is my foster father, by the way, Shoutaro-san.Bruce Wayne. Bruce, this is Shoutaro Hidari, he’s visting Gotham for a couple of weeks.” To Shoutaro again, “Bruce’s Japanese is much better than mine.”

Bruce nods. “<What brings you to Gotham, Mr. Hidari?>”

Shoutaro relaxes visibly at the question; it’s likely the only new voice he’s heard speaking his mother tongue in days. “<My partner is attending a conference here, so we decided we’d make it a vacation.>”

“<Aha. Curators and archivists?>”

“<How did you guess?>”

“<A friend of Dick’s and mine is also attending, she mentioned that international registrations are up significantly this year.>” Bruce pauses. “<If you’re looking for date spots, the Thorndike is excellent, as Dick said, but the Botanical Gardens are also very nice this time of year.>”

Shoutaro blushes warmly. “<Thank you very much for the recommendation.>”

He doesn’t think much more about Dick’s tourist friend until that night, when he and Damian are out on patrol. It’s a quiet night, so they’re stopping a mugging as gently as possible when the mugger—a repeat offender and sometime informant, Bruce makes a note to check in on him at home out of suit—says, “So, uh, Bats. Who’s the new guy?”

Bruce frowns. No one new should be operating here.“Which one?”

“You know, the bug guy. My buddy texted about him, said he was speaking some other language. Well, he said it was a bug ninja who spoke Japanese, but he watches a lotta anime and he gets real excited, so I ain’t sure he’s right.”

“A bug. What color?”

“Oh, it changes, it’s cool as hell.” He shows Bruce and Damian a picture on his phone. “He a friend’a yours?”

“Yes. He’s visiting.” Bruce peers at the photo and then hands his informant two hundred dollars. “Buy dinner and go home, Nathan. Tell your aunt I say hello.”

“Yo, sure thing. Thanks, Bats!”

They’ve only been searching a few minutes when their earpieces crackle and Babs says, “Roof of GPL Central Branch. Someone I don’t recognize, they just took out some Joker goons who were robbing a jewelry store at the corner of High and 26th. Dick’s on his way too.”

They touch down at one end of the Gotham Public Library’s roof as Dick’s landing at the other and survey their guest, who’s looking between the three of them with something that’s likely surprise, although given that their face is entirely concealed it’s not certain. The insectoid red eyes and sharp antennae on the helmet and the white scarf drifting in the air from the back of the right shoulder send a shock of recognition down Bruce’s spine. He considers speaking first, but then nods to Dick instead. For better or for worse, Dick is good at putting people at ease.

“Hi there.” Dick waves to the stranger, tone cheery but guarded. “We haven’t seen you around before, mind telling us what you’re doing in Gotham?”

The stranger cocks their head to the left for a moment before saying, haltingly, “We. Ah. We are…tourists? We did not mean to…um…” The left eye of the helmet flashes as they’re speaking. A beat, and then the righteye begins to flash, and they say, in an entirely different voice that’s noticeably accented but much more fluent, “I’ll handle this part if you don’t mind, partner. Good evening, we’re Kamen Rider W. Our apologies, we didn’t mean to intrude on your territory. Are we addressing the famed Batman and his companions?”

Bruce says, slowly, “That’s correct. You’re a Rider?”

“Oh, you’re familiar with the term! That’s wonderful. Yes, that’s correct. We’ve been in operation as such since late 2008, although of course primarily in Japan.”

“Tt.” Damian scowls. “<If you mostly work in Japan, what are you doing running around here?>”

The left eye on the helmet begins to flash again as W responds in the first voice, in Japanese now. “<It wasn’t exactly the plan, a man in clown makeup waved a gun at me and tried to take my wallet and once I’d knocked him out I noticed that there were about five more clowns breaking into a jewelry store down the street. I couldn’t just leave them to it.>”

Dick is also frowning now. “I—have we met before? I recognize your voice. The, uh, left-hand one.”

“” says the left-hand voice, and then the right-hand one breaks in with, “Actually, based on his memory of your speech patterns, I believe you and my partner met earlier today, you recommended a couple of date locations and a Basque restaurant I’m eager to visit.”

Bruce can see Dick’s eyes going wide from halfway across the roof. He’s visibly biting back the urge to address their guest by name, which would be discourteous, to say the least, with everyone in costume, so Bruce cuts in with, “Is my understanding correct that we’re speaking to two people currently?”

“That’s correct!” says the right-hand voice, sounding delighted. “We two are a single Kamen Rider.”

Dick blinks. “Is this like a Firestorm thing? Are you fused?”

“Not unlike, but no. My physical body is currently unconscious in our hotel room, which is certainly much more comfortable than some of the other places in which I’ve passed out. Although as my partner wasoriginally going out to get us something to eat when he was accosted, I ambecoming concerned about my caloric intake.” And the left-hand voice says, “<Yeah, I was thinking I’d be able to get us something decent at the Seven-Eleven, but the ones here are different from the ones at home.>”

“I think,” Bruce says, “this conversation would be better continued elsewhere.”

Twenty minutes later they’re all out of suit and seated around a table at an all-night diner, and Shoutaro’s partner, introduced only as Philip, is inspecting the menu with interest. “This is intimidatingly lengthy, do you have recommendations?”

Dick grins. “Get one of the meat-lovers omelettes. And then if you still have room get some baklava, the owner’s mother makes it and it’s amazing.”

Bruce, meanwhile, is turning Shoutaro’s business card over in his hands. “<You’re a detective?>”

“”

“<I’ve heard of the Fuuto Museum, they hosted an intriguing exhibit on Mesopotamian artifacts last year.>”

“<You heard about Nitoh’s exhibit here? That’s amazing, I’ll have to let him know.>”

“<Please tell him I was very impressed with his thesis.>”

Damian’s been scowling silently into his milkshake, but suddenly he slaps the table and everyone jumps. “I knew I recognized that name!” Then, to Shoutaro, “”

“<I—you did? Really? It hasn’t had any translations, how did you hear about it?>”

“<My, uh.>” Damian shifts awkwardly. “<My mother gave it to me, I like detective stories. I enjoyed it. Although that copy was lost.>”

“<Oh, I’ll send you a new one if you like, I don’t imagine it’d be easy to get here.>”

The waitress comes by, and her eyebrows slowly rise as everyone orders, presumably at the quantity of food on request. When she’s left again, Philip turns to Bruce and says, brightly, “I also take it that you’re the sponsor Ms. Gordon mentioned, we had a very stimulating chat at the conference earlier today.”

“Somehow I’m not surprised to hear that you met her.”

“Coincidence and fate figure largely in our lives, Mr. Wayne.” Philip smiles like a cat; it’s oddly charming. “We’re superheroes, after all. Here,” to Damian, “Dick mentioned to me that you like animals, would you like to see a picture of my cat? He used to be a supervillain.”

After they consume a truly astonishing amount of diner food it’s time to part ways, and Bruce shakes hands with Shoutaro and Philip and says, “<It was good to meet you both.>”

Philip beams. “<Likewise, thank you, it’s been a pleasure. And I’m looking forward to seeing more of Gotham.>”

Shoutaro looks up at him for a moment. “<It’s been good talking to you, Mr. Wayne. You…remind me of someone I used to know.>”

“” Bruce turns to go, but then turns back. “”

They nod, precisely in sync, and Philip says, “<Yes?>”

“<What does it mean to be strong?>”

Silence for a moment, Shoutaro and Philip glancing at each other while Dick and Damian wait in puzzled silence, and then Shoutaro says, “<Kindness,>” and Philip says, “<Love.>” Another shared glance before Shoutaro continues. “<Anyone can hurt someone else. Helping them, that’s strength.>”

Bruce nods. “<Somehow that’s what I knew you’d say.>”

#hongo takeshi #tachibana tobei #bruce wayne #dick grayson #hidari shoutaro #philip #damian wayne #fanfiction #30 day shuffle challenge

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peterpan-ouat-imagines · 3 years

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Request!!!

Hey you guys! Some of y’all have sent in requests which I am really flattered that you enjoy my writing and I am honestly SO excited to do these! here is the first one that someone gave me and I really hope you enjoy it!!! Also if you sent one and I haven’t responded, know that I have seen it, it just will not allow me to message you privately about it just publicly. Anyway here is the first for @welcome-to-americanawritings ! I crossed some of it out so there wouldn’t be any spoilers for those who don’t know what it is about.

I love you, I hate you- Part 1

“Babe wake up,” I feel my sexy boyfriend nudge me speaking in his smooth English voice, “It’s time to start the day,”

My eyes slowly open and I yawn tired, “uhhh it’s 9am can’t we sleep in a little longer?” I groan.

“Get up y/n, the lost boys have already begun getting breakfast together I let you sleep in an extra hour,” he tells me a bit more serious.

“Come ere,” I tell him and he sits close to me as I start sitting up. I roll on top of him and start kissing him.

“Y/n, stop it we have to get going,” he tells me but I continue.

“Come on it doesn’t have to be long, you know you want it,” I tell him as I continue.

I feel his body start giving into it and move my hand down to his cock and begin stroking it slowly, “Okay just 10 minutes though,” he tells me.

He starts kissing me back as his dick hardens in my hand and he rolls on top me as our skin tangles. He starts taking his pants off and I lift up my night gown and take my panties off. I feel his hand on my pussy as he rubs it and I can tell we want each other. Our physical chemistry is always the best. I feel him put his large hard dick inside me and he begins kissing my neck as I lay my cheek on the pillow. He thrusts harder each time and I can tell we are both starting to get close. After a thrust he cums in me and I do it with him both of us moaning.

“Do we have to go out? We could just do more of that all day” I smirk hugging him.

“Y/n, everyone has to do there part and that includes you,” he tells me.

“I’m your girlfriend, that should give me some ability to not follow everything that is supposed to happen? Besides the obvious that comes with being yours in physical and romantic ways of course,” I ask and bat my eyes.

“You get special treatment all the time,” he tells me and I sigh knowing he is right.

I get up and change into gray leggings and a green tank top and boots and go out to where all the lost boys are.

They all have already helped themselves but it’s fine because at least they aren’t rude about me not preparing it all. I get a plate and help myself to what I want. I sit next to Lee who was one of the newest lost boys here on the island that lots of the guys have been avoiding so I’ve been trying to make him feel more welcome. I smile and ask him how he is with adjusting and everything.

After we are done eating I help clean up. It’s the least I can do since I didn’t help in the morning.

Afterwards Pan announces that we will be doing target practice. What this is is practice shooting arrows which is pretty straight forward. If we want to take it up a notch we can put apples on our heads and have someone shoot it. We all grab our apple and dip the tip of our arrows in dream shade which is this deadly black liquid that’s found inside thorns of these bushes. It is insane how quick it can take a life.

I start shooting and hit the apple each time. A couple times I’m a little off but nothing too bad. I get bored working alone and start asking others if we can do it the “funner way” as I call it. Shooting it off the others head. I know it shouldn’t be more fun but something about risking a life like that is so exhilarating. It’s an extremely adrenaline rush.

A couple people agree who I trust and know are skilled because it would be horrible if someone went just an inch or two lower. Lee comes over and asks if he can join but we tell him it is too advance for him which is true. He literally came here knowing nothing about survival instincts. He never has gone camping or fishing or hunting we are teaching him it all. Mostly me because none of the other guys are willing to help out. I feel like I’m mothering him in the ways of Neverland.

I peek over and see him not being able to hit a single apple. I go over, “You’re gripping the bow too tight,” I critique as I examine his form, “Also you can’t stand like that,” I tell him with his legs pressed together, “You need more of a stance, put your dominant foot in front and non dominant foot a step back. That’s what I do at least,” I share and watch him readjust himself.

“Th-thanks y/n, it might help more if you show me,” he tells me. I nod and come up behind him and grab his tight fist and tell him to relax his hand and then I slowly squeeze his to the point he needs and move his feet around kicking them with my foot. I step back and he tries again and succeeds.

“There you go,” I tell him.

“Thanks y/n, you’re really helpful,” he blushes.

“Anytime,” I smile softly and walk away.

We finish up target practice and as most days we just hang out doing whatever we want. I choose to go to mermaid lagoon to hang out with my friends there. As gentle and sweet as the name sounds it really isn’t. The water is a dark blue and there’s a lot of large dark mossy rocks and not a whole lot of light shines through. I’ve swam in it before and When I tried going to the bottom it lit up this bright glimmery light blue which freaked me out with how much it contrasted the above and I never went in again since. The merpeople are great but the place gives me the creeps a little.

“Y/n!” This mermaid Selena exclaims and swims over to me. She’s always so enthusiastic I love her energy.

Soon a lot of the mermaids swim over to me greeting me, “Hey you guys!” I say.

We start chatting talking about the latest gossip and I tell them about what’s new on my side, “Yeah there’s this new guy who came here last week, Lee. Poor thing he doesn’t know the slightest thing. He’s been needing my help teaching him everything,” I share, “He’s too afraid to ask the others for instruction. I tell them about this morning.

They all start to give me smirks as if there’s something that’s not being said, “Oh honey don’t you see? He likes you!” Alice says.

“Lee? Like me? You’re lying. Anyway I’m happily in a relationship,” I tell them.

“Does Lee know that?” Gwen asks.

“I mean… he should. I haven’t said anything about it to him but that doesn’t mean someone else hasn’t said it. I mean who would want to have Pan so infuriated by hitting or making a move on me?” I comment. They all nod agreeing with me.

“Just watch for the signs,” Selena tells me.

We talk for a while longer and then I head my own way.

I go back to camp where most people are hanging out and I join in. I go and hangout with all the other guys fucking around and doing stupid shit. It gets later and darker and I haven’t seen Pan at all since the morning.

“Has anyone seen Pan today?” I ask. Everyone says no, “I’m gonna go look for him,” I look around. I go in his cave and in his tent he does business in. He isn’t in either of the places. I go in the woods with a flashlight and head to his thinking tree, he goes there when he has to be alone but of course I would never step foot close. No one would. “Pan? Are you out here?” I shout. It’s deadly quiet. I know it means nothing but still I’m really freaked out. I head on back fearing something will come get me for no reason. I know he’s a big boy and can take care of himself though. He would tell me if he were going somewhere so I’m not worried.

I head on back to camp and hang with everyone again drinking and they start playing games with all the alcohol but I know if I have too much I regret it because of stuff that I’ll do or say that is not intentional. Of course no one here knows that because I have been drunk around them yet. I always drink to the point I feel it and then stop.

I watch as everyone else gets wasted making fools of themselves and I wobble off to bed making a somewhat discreet exit as usual. Pan still isn’t there and I start to get worried.

The next day I wake up on time putting on some clothes and yawn exhausted as I stand next to each of the other boys on the end. I hadn’t seen Pan since last morning which is really weird and starting to worry me. Felix comes around and stands in front of us to give orders.

“Where’s Pan?” Someone asks before Felix can open his mouth.

“He has business to attend to. He left last morning and will be back today sometime,” he tells all of us in his flat voice. I swear Felix tries to say as little as possible about everything, he’s so ominous it’s annoying, “Now are we going to talk about Pan or let me say what to do to prepare for breakfast,” half of us roll our eyes.

He sets us off in groups, “Lee, y/n, you two are picking berries,” he tells us plainly as he gives us orders. I get a bit uncomfortable after the mermaids told me about what there thoughts on it all was.

I go over to Felix as everyone disperses, “Is there anyway I could not work with Lee? He’s cool and all it’s just I could use a break from the new guy,” I explain avoiding the real reasoning for how I don’t want to seem like I’m leading him on.

He stares at me with expressionless eyes, “Y/n you have been the only one willing to deal with him. He is not good at anything which is why he has the easiest task there is. No one has patience like you for these sort of things,” he gets stern with me.

“Lee come on let’s go,” I tell him wanting nothing more than to see Pan and hug him. I need to see someone I love right now. I just don’t get why he didn’t tell me he was going on a trip.

He follows me into the woods and I show him where the berries are and which ones are good to eat and which are not. He stays really close the whole time and the awkwardness is kicking in. I watch him do it himself and we head back.

“Hey y/n. Can I ask you something?” He asks me not making anymore distance between us as I inch away some.

“Go ahead what is it?” I answer.

“Why do none of the other lost boys want to be around me? Is it because I’m new or something?” He asks and I don’t know what to say. If I were to be honest and say how he doesn’t know shit about survival instincts that would hurt his feelings terribly. And I’m too nice for that.

“It’s not that they don’t want to be around you. It just takes a while to find your place when you first get to this island. I was the same way but I impressed everyone by-“

“Y/n! Watch out!” Lee pulls me hard to the side by my waist as an arrow shoots through the trees.

I feel weird having his hands there noticing another sign as I was told to lookout for as he doesn’t move them, “Do you mind moving your hands?” I ask. Once they are lowered the awkwardness still lingers on my end but I try to look past it. I lean out and see two guys squatting in a tree with bows, “Really you guys?! You almost killed us!” I yell angry.

“Your bleeding!” One of them shouts and then they duck and head out.

I look and feel a pain in my upper arm and see it got nicked. Luckily they forgot to dip it in dreamshade.

“Ugh! This is a WONDERFUL start to the day!” I exclaim irritated.

“You really should soak that. There’s a river right where the berry bush was,” Lee tells me.

I roll my eyes, “I’m fine I can wrap a bandage just fine when we get back,” I huff and storm back to camp pissed off not paying attention to if Lee is keeping up with me or not.

When I get back I go to the medical hut where there really isn’t much besides bandages. I force my chin down on one half of my forearm as I get the wrap started. I wrap it tighter than I should that my skin squeezes out more than it probably should.

I come out and see that everything is getting started. Knowing Pan comes back today is the only thing that is getting me through. It’s just the annoying anticipation of when he will be here.

Everything gets gathered together and we eat. I hangout with Felix.

“It must be hard, Pan being gone,” he tells me.

“It’s only been a night Felix, I can survive without him, I did all those years leading up to now. I just wish he would have told me why,” I say sighing after the last part.

“I might know why,” he says quietly,“Im not sure why he’s there during the daytime but for the evening I know he’s been wanting to see this girl from London, her name is Wendy,”

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jazzistolkienfanfics · 3 years

Text

Gundabad - Thranduil x reader

Hi, I saw you posted about requests so I wondered if I could request prompts #20, #37 and #45 with Thranduil x fem reader. Thank you ❤

Hey, thanks for requesting @aduialel ! This is for everyone requesting, IF A PROMPT HAS BEEN CROSSED OFF, YOU CAN NO LONGER USE IT! Sorry, I forgot to cross off #37, but I’ll write the other two.

20. “I’ve been forgotten…” 45. “Where is Y/N? She was meant to be with you!”

Type: Imagine Pairing: Thranduil x reader Summary: the war-grounds of Gundabad are steeped in tragedy and sorrow. Warnings: deviating from original plot (i.e. time/cause of Thranduil’s wife’s death), death, sadness, Word Count: 2,116 words

All non-English words are in Sindarin.

Y/N looked casually to her side, taking in the silver-robed King in her peripheral vision. He looked straight ahead, a cool elegance in his gaze that matched the coldness of everything he was - from his ‘war tiara’ as Y/N teasingly called it, to the way he sat. Such arrogance in posture Y/N had never seen before then, but she didn’t mind it. In some ways, she was much the same.

“You know, Y/N, we need to get you an elk,” he said, turning to her with a smile equal parts warm and cocky, so characteristic of him.

“A moose?” Y/N raised an eyebrow in response, patting her horse’s neck that matched that of every other Elven soldier. “Please. I would sooner die.”

They continued in a comfortable silence, leading the formidable army of Mirkwood to Gundabad, realm of the Witch-King of Angmar. Y/N knew the other Elves of her realm, Taur-nu-Fuin (Mirkwood), found her strange, for being so close to the grief-stricken Elvenking, who had shoved away everyone else after the death of his beautiful wife, Elerrian, in a tragic Orc ambush. Fifty to one, she hadn’t stood a chance … not when she was surrounded and unarmed.

Y/N, too, had mourned for the kind and beloved Queen, and she remembered fondly when she was placing flowers on Elerrian’s memorial statue, she’d run into a young blonde ellon (male elf) child.

“Wow! You’re Lady Y/N!” he said, and she bent down, hands on her knees to make eye contact with him. “You’re so pretty!”

Y/N laughed, smiling at this adorable child. “Thank you! How do you know my name?”

“I’m me,” he said mysteriously. “I know everyone.”

“Who’s ‘me’?” Y/N asked.

The child put his hand to his heart, extending it towards her with an endearingly cute formality. “Prince Legolas Thranduilion.”

Thranduil’s son … Y/N copied his greeting. “Lady Y/N Y/L/N.”

“You should come to dinner with me and my Ada (Daddy)!” Legolas suggested enthusiastically, already taking your hand and skipping back towards the underground realm.

Y/N had indeed come at the young Prince’s invitation, and Thranduil was captivated by her beauty from the moment he met her - her e/c eyes that sparkled in the torchlight when she laughed, how her h/c hair moved as she tossed her head back and forth, the way her s/c hand looked on his pale one whenever she handed him something and their hands brushed for the briefest of moments. Y/N had never known why Legolas had been so far away from the palace when he was fifteen autumns old (y’all, that’s like, five. and i think the mirkwood elves counting in autumns is a very romantic concept), never found out that Thranduil had sent him out to find this entrancing elleth (female elf).

Now, a few years later, Y/N was in a very comfortable friendship with Thranduil himself, though she would only admit to herself and no one else that her feelings for him extended beyond platonic infatuation. She knew that she shouldn’t feel this way - Elves only married once, and Thranduil’s wife had passed.

Valar, I should be grieving for her, not lusting after her husband! Y/N growled to herself. But then she would be distracted by how soft his white-blond hair felt when he asked her to brush it out, how he would reserve his rare smiles for her, and her heart would flutter away again.

But she could not let herself be distracted.

Gundabad was dangerous, and she had to fight to the best of her ability.

Pulling herself from her thoughts, Y/N noticed that Thranduil had held up a hand, and all of the Elves stopped immediately.

Y/N drew her sword, Gweleth (it means woman of air, or something along those lines) with a clear shing!, letting the silver blade shine in the dwindling sunlight. Thranduil gave her an almost imperceptible nod, copying her motion with his familiar smirk that told her he anticipated the battle ahead.

Guttural chants echoed off the tall walls before them, as the Elves stood in a formidable barrier, ready to end the Evil approaching from this land.

“Orcs,” Y/N spoke, not needing to turn to her King to know he was listening. “The Witch-King sinks so low.”

He tilted his head forward in response, spinning his sword in a fluid movement. “He will not be able to sink any lower after we have buried him in the blood-soaked war-grounds of his fortress.”

Y/N grinned, running one of her fingers along Gweleth. “By all means, my King. Lead the way.”

It was then that the chants drew closer, and without warning, Orcs began to flood from behind their barriers.

Thranduil raised his sword with a roar, and Y/N kicked her horse into motion, following Thranduil’s elk with a cry of her own. As the Elves met the Orcs in a mess of a massacre, Y/N’s sword sliced through body after body. She felt a throb of worry when she could no longer see Thranduil, but forced her mind back to the far more pressing battle at hand.

Thranduil, too, immediately noticed Y/N’s absence, and shouted to one of his generals, Authon.

“Go to Y/N! Make sure she’s safe!”

Authon nodded, turning to find the mounted girl, who slashed her sword with deadly accuracy.

A clawed hand wrenched Y/N suddenly from her horse, and she hit the ground hard, groaning as she spat some blood from her mouth.

“All right,” she growled. “You asked for it.”

She drew a second, shorter sword from the sheath on her back, and spun them around her, being absolutely covered in blood in a matter of minutes.

However, no matter how good things were looking for the Elves, it was an illusion. A sudden coldness sunk over the war-grounds, and even the inhuman Orcs shivered.

“The Witch-King…” Y/N breathed. Indeed, the black-robed thing strode through its army, and a terrifying silence fell upon the war-grounds. Everyone parted for it, and the Elves were too petrified to strike it down.

For some inconceivable reason, came towards Y/N. Maybe it saw she had not lowered her swords, maybe it felt her fear, but, for whatever reason, it still walked towards her.

Eerily quiet. Step by step.

“I am not afraid of you, Witch-King,” she declared, her words ringing through the heavy air. It had begun as a lie, but even as the words left her mouth she felt her fear leave. “I will never be afraid of darkness - it will always be overpowered with light.”

“Is that so?” the Witch-King’s words were frighteningly inhuman, booming and towering as he did over the (height) elleth.

Y/N swung both her swords towards him, and he met them with his own, and as the weapons met with a harsh cry, the battle resumed.

Thranduil had heard the exchange between Y/N and the Witch-King (who hadn’t?) and he fought to get to her, to help her, but wave upon wave upon wave of Orcs came at him all at once, and it began to become a struggle to defend himself, let alone Y/N too.

With a stab of desperation, he recalled the news of Elerrian’s death ten autumns ago, how he’d been unable to save her.

No, he pushed images of Y/N lying dead in the same position, her h/c hair soaked with blood as she lay face-down with a sword in her back. I won’t let the same thing happen to her.

Y/N met the Witch-King’s blade again, wincing as he pushed one of her swords out of her hands, slicing her flesh on the way. The cut was shallow, but it stung. Y/N tried to ignore the pain, lunging forwards and cutting at the Witch-King with a relentless rage. Authon, who had been previously occupied with some Orc, rushed forward to help her, but the Witch-King thrust out a hand and shoved him back without even concentrating on it, and the ellon let out a pained gasp as he landed hard.

“Authon!” Y/N cried, sparing a few glances his way. But her distraction, in addition to the gashes all over her body, proved to be the last straw in an extensive haystack, and the Witch-King came at her again.

Strike after strike, Y/N tried to bar, but after a dozen, a particularly jarring attack made her arm useless. The elleth screamed as pain shot up her shoulder and through her body, and just as she suppressed the cry, another one was caused as his sword left a cut across her face. Unable to stop him, all Y/N could do was try to leap out of the way as his sword scythed through the air, mostly meeting its mark.

Finally, the Witch-King had had enough of the stubborn elleth. He grabbed her injured arm, twisting it as she screamed, and plunged his sword straight through her stomach.

Y/N gasped as the weapon pierced her through, the white-hot pain so intense that tears rolled down her face as she let out another shriek.

Thranduil whipped his head around, desperately trying to locate the source of what he somehow knew was Y/N’s cry. He plowed through Orc after Orc, his hair swinging as he moved in a fluid dance as quickly as he could.

He found Authon and blanched when he realised they were the only Elves he could see. “Where is Y/N? She was meant to be with you!”

Authon’s eyes widened. “She was fighting the Witch-King, but he threw me aside. I didn’t- I couldn’t-”

“Y/N!” Thranduil yelled, panic bleeding into his voice. “Y/N!”

He saw the Witch-King of Angmar moving away, and his heart dropped. He ran as fast as he could to find where the Witch-King was walking from, not caring when his crown fell from his head, not caring as a sword bit into his arm in passing.

And then he saw her.

The h/c elleth lay on the dirt, blood pooling around her, and her e/c eyes were wide with pain. Thranduil fell to her side, pulling her head up into his lap and gently pushing aside her cloak to reveal …

“Oh, rhaich (curses), this is not good,” he cursed, looking at the hole in Y/N’s stomach that was quickly being obscured by her blood.

“Th-Thranduil,” Y/N said weakly, coughing up a red mess. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Y/N, do not be sorry,” Thranduil insisted, pressing his hand against her wound and shivering at the wet blood already covering him. “This is not your fault.”

“No, I…” Y/N swallowed heavily. “I’m sorry for loving you.”

“What?”

Y/N winced at the confused expression on her face. “I’m sorry for loving you. I know it’s wrong. I know Elerrian died only a few autumns ago. I know we only marry once. But could not stop myself from loving you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Thranduil asked, letting a tear fall down his face. “Why?”

“I … I was afraid,” she managed to say, the ability to speak becoming more and more difficult now. “Of hurting you, of being brushed off, of making Elerrian become forgotten. I would never wish to dishonour her.”

“Oh, Y/N, you would never dishonour her,” Thranduil reassured you. “I know she would love you.”

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he said next. “You know, when Legolas first brought you back to have dinner with us, I looked across the table and thought to myself ‘Valar, she is absolutely beautiful’. Then, I thought I saw Elerrian sitting next to you. She was crying, and she told me “I’ve been forgotten…”. I felt guilty, but when I next ‘saw’ her, she told me she wanted me to be happy more than anything, and that she saw how you loved Legolas and I just as much as she did.”

By this time, Y/N’s tears came not from her pain, but from her happiness. “Why didn’t we tell each other this earlier?”

Thranduil choked out a sad laugh as another tear fell from his eyes. “I don’t know, melleth nin (my love). I don’t know.”

Y/N reached up weakly, brushing her blood-stained fingers against Thranduil’s cheek, truely allowing herself to see how handsome he was for the first time. “May I ask one last favour of you?”

“Don’t talk like that-”

“Kiss me.”

“Sorry, what?”

But Thranduil did as she asked, and, lying on a battlefield with him bent over her broken body, he felt her sigh against his lips, and then she was.

“No,” his voice cracked on the agonisingly tiny word, clutching at her cold hand and searching for a pulse. “No. No, no, no, no …”

But Y/N couldn’t hear him. She was gone already.

@aduialel thank you so much! i hope you enjoyed it!

everyone reading this PLEASE FEEL FREE TO REQUEST AND LIKE THIS IMAGINE! I LOVE YOUUUUUU

#thranduil #sad #thranduil x reader #x reader #the hobbit #you #submission

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