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bluehoodiewoozi · 1 year

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Broken Pieces

Lee Jihoon x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Words: 5,3k

Warnings: protective bff & bias wrecker Choi Seungcheol; adult language; dumb and dumber, featuring awkward interactions.

[Soulmate AU] Your friend broke your soulmate's heart, leaving you to pick up the pieces of both his and your own heart.

(A spin-off / sequel to my soulmate!Kwon Soonyoung fic: "Right? Right.")

Your soulmate mark was a cat – just as your grandmother had predicted. Perhaps she knew what was good for you, perhaps she just knew you – either way she had been correct.

It was a doodle of a small fluffy cat who always seemed to be either busy or sleeping. Just like the marks of your friends, the cat went about its day on your wrist like an alive tattoo. Sometimes it slept, sometimes it read a book, sometimes it played piano – you wondered if your soulmate did the same.

The mark appeared on your sixteenth birthday and while you hoped you’d find your soulmate soon, it would be years until you saw him for the first time.

Your second year at university. That is when you met Lee Jihoon – handsome, soft-spoken, full of smiles and hope. He had chosen the same minor subject as you.

At first you thought he was just another guy you’d have a crush on – just a hopeless short-term fantasy until you’d find the perfect person. But you were proven wrong four weeks into knowing him.

“Woah, careful there,” he spoke as he gently pushed you back upright after you had stumbled in the café. Queues are dangerous, you knew that already, but suddenly they were also a blessing.

The moment his fingers touched your skin, a jolt of electricity ran through you. He seemed to pay it no mind, only offering you a friendly smile before turning back to his girlfriend.

When you looked at your mark, the cat was clawing as if to break out of your skin and run to him. When you glanced at his wrist, a similar doodle – a spotted cat – was just as excited to meet your mark.

That was when you knew – Lee Jihoon was your soulmate.

But the smile he offered to her told you that you stood no chance. Even if the fates had meant for you to meet and fall in love, your heart seemed to be meant to break.

You cried yourself to sleep that night – whether from heartbreak or from the joy of finally finding him, you weren’t sure.

Months passed of just watching him. You didn’t dare to make conversation, didn’t dare to even look at him for long. Your heart ached for him.

It was unfair to break his heart for stupid revenge. It was unfair to do his heart any harm at all. He deserved better.

Jihoon’s heart that held so much love once, and now you wondered if he would ever be able to feel love again at all – you didn’t think you would. Even just watching his heart break from the sidelines had been too painful.

“Have you considered talking to him for a change?” Seungcheol suggested when he caught you staring at Jihoon at lunch. You failed to feel any amusement at his words even as he laughed at you.

Instead, you offered him a mild glare. “You think he’d want to talk to anybody after what he went through?”

“I mean,” Seungcheol thought for a moment before grimacing, “yeah, you have a point there.”

“I always have a point, Cheol,” you told him proudly and continued eating your food. “Besides, he probably wouldn’t talk to one of her friends anyway.”

Her. Han Eunmi. The girl who claimed to be his soulmate and broke his heart into a thousand pieces before you could tell him the truth and save him.

She had been your first friend at university. Her bright eyes and sweet smile were always the first to greet you in lectures. She always saved you a seat, even to this day. But something in her changed when she met her soulmate – you could barely recognise her anymore. Your best friend was your best friend no more.

“You should just grow some balls and tell him,” Seungcheol told you once again. He was all too familiar with the distant vengeful glint in your eyes.

You wanted to kick him. “Says the one that still keeps covering his mark because of his commitment issues?”

Glancing down at the near-comical amount of chain bracelets and the raccoon doodle sniffing around under them on his wrist, he pouted at your words. “I just don’t love the thought of soulmates.”

“No,” you laughed, “you just don’t like the thought of possibly getting your heart broken.”

“Then what’s your excuse?”

Back when you first met him, you had felt so hopeful, so excited for your future. Watching him from afar was one thing, standing side-to-side with him in the café line was different. You could practically feel the fluffy cat on your wrist tugging you closer to him, scratching and jumping every time you moved your arm.

But then she had uttered those words and your world collapsed inwards: “This is my boyfriend.” Even now you feel a little nauseous thinking about the moment: the self-satisfied smile on her face, the love-sick smile on his, his arm around her waist. You couldn’t even replay the memory in your head without wanting to cry.

You glanced towards Jihoon.

“He already got his heart broken,” you mumbled to Seungcheol dejectedly. “I don’t want to add to his problems.”

“I feel like finding his real soulmate would be the opposite of a problem for that poor guy,” Seungcheol said – no, stated. He was certain of his words.

You wished they were true. With a sigh, you whispered, “Just leave it, Cheol. There’s no point anymore. If I was in his shoes, I wouldn’t even believe in soulmates anymore.”

It was obvious by the look in his eyes that Seungcheol wanted to argue. But he knew you well enough to not push it anymore.

“For this project, I need you guys to pair up,” professor Byun started, sounding about as tired as you felt in this 8 am class. Maybe he, too, craved an early coffee that he’d failed to acquire in his hurry to get to class on time. The thought made him a little more tolerable in your eyes.

“Do you guys want to pair up on your own or should I just do it myself?” he asked the class, but his eyes were practically begging you to choose the first option. Unluckily for your introvert self, the class immediately called out to pair up among themselves. He breathed out in relief just as you sighed in defeat.

“Alright, I’ll give you guys…” He glanced at his watch and nodded. “Ten minutes to pick a partner and a movie from this list. Remember to write your names next to the movie title in the shared document on so that others know it’s taken. I’ll go and get some coffee in the meantime.”

As you looked around the lecture room, you found yourself making a wish for the floor to swallow you whole.

No one in your limited friend group had picked this film studies class – most of them citing the 8 am time slot as the reason –, so who were you supposed to partner up with? A stranger who more than likely wouldn’t do any of the work or – even better and your personal favourite – would drop out of the course in the coming week and leave you without as much as a note.

“Hey,” you then heard his voice and you didn’t know whether you felt nauseous from fear or excitement. You turned your head to find Jihoon standing right there, hand on the chair next to you, a tired look on his face – the same look he’d been wearing since Eunmi crushed his heart in her hands with a giggle. He took a deep hesitant breath. “Do you want to– You don’t have to but I don’t know anyone else in this class… So, maybe, you and I–”

Though a little breathless that he was even talking to you, you straightened in your seat and nodded. “Sure, we can partner up.”

A polite smile appeared on his lips before he pulled out a chair and sat next to you. He glanced at the film list projected onto the room’s screen. “So… Do you have a particular film you want to pick for this?”

You shook your head. “I was hoping you did.”

He grimaced and chuckled. “Well, at least we’re on the same page about that.”

As if we’re soulmates or something. You almost uttered those words. You were glad you caught them before they slipped out.

“Let’s–”

“Should we–”

“Oh.” He laughed. “You go first.”

“No, you.”

“No, you–” He sighed before suggesting, “First free film on the list?”

You nodded immediately. That had been your thought as well, after all.

“So, what film is it?” he wondered, leaning over to read your laptop screen. Your rational brain wanted to shove him away; your emotional brain wanted to pull him even closer. It was hard to get anything done in that condition.

You pulled yourself together, ignoring the sweet scent of his cologne and the almost-there tickle of his hair against yours, and scrolled through the shared document. “Let’s see… The Pianist, 2002.”

Jihoon’s brows rose in surprise. “I do love pianos.”

“I doubt it has a lot to do with pianos,” you mumbled, but didn’t need any further confirmation to put your names down next to the title. Both of your names. Next to each other. Your heart stuttered at the sight.

“It has to have at least a little bit to do with pianos,” he insisted with furrowed brows. You laughed, earning a disbelieving wide-eyed look from him. “No? You’re doubting it?”

“Maybe.”

He shook his head in mock disappointment before relaxing in his chair again. “So, when do you want to work on this project? I’m free to meet on Mondays.”

It was your turn to look at him with wide eyes, lips parting in surprise. “You… want to meet? In person?”

He blinked. “Yes? Like normal people? Is there something wrong with that?”

“No, no, it’s just that–” You took a deep breath under his watchful eyes. “I figured that after what happened with Eunmi, you’d–”

“Dig myself a cave to die in? Stop socialising completely?” He sighed and looked away. “Look: as long as you don’t bring her around to our meetings, we’ll be fine. I just– I don’t even want to be in the same building as her.” His gaze was sharp when he looked at you again. “And I’m only tolerating you because of this class.”

Were words supposed to hurt like that?

“So, Monday, in the library?” he spoke again as if he hadn’t just thrown a metaphorical dagger into your heart.

You nodded. “I’ll see you Monday.”

He didn’t speak another word to you in that entire class.

Seungcheol was quick to notice your mood being more dejected than usual at lunch. Affectionate by nature, his fingers reached across the picnic table to find yours and give them a little squeeze.

The gesture only made you want to cry more: why couldn’t he be your soulmate instead?

“Did something happen in class?” he asked, eyeing you cautiously. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s nothing.” A complete lie and even he knew it.

He called out your name in a warning tone – like a father getting ready to reprimand his rebellious child. “What happened and what can we do to fix it?”

“I don’t think there’s any way to fix anything,” you mumbled and lifted your fork to your lips to take a bite of your lunch. There was no joy in the taste of your favourite meal on this day.

Seungcheol frowned. “Is this about Jihoon again? What happened this time?”

“He wanted to pair up for a project,” you told him and his expression morphed into a bright smile – one that screamed “See! I told you he’d see the light!” – but his face promptly dropped into a scowl when you added on, “and then he told me that he only tolerated me because of our film studies class.”

“He said that?” he spoke lowly.

“His exact words.” It wasn’t even like he actually intentionally broke your heart. It must have been the stupid soulmate bond acting up and making you more emotional about this than necessary. “I don’t know why I’m so sad about this.”

“He’s cruel. That’s why.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true though. He’s cruel and he’s dumb and he doesn’t deserve you.” He nodded his head in confirmation when you looked up at him again.

You scoffed out a laugh. “Why do you think he’s dumb anyway? He does well in our classes.”

“He may be academically gifted but he had his soulmate under his goddamn nose this whole time and he didn’t even realise,” he practically whined. “If that’s not dumb, I’m the king of Korea.”

You contemplated for a moment. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should just give up this fantasy of mine and find someone who actually likes me.”

“You– I–” His frown deepened almost comically. “That is not what I meant at all.”

“You just said–”

“Stop listening to what I say!”

You rolled your eyes. “Thank god you’re not my soulmate.”

“Okay, I’m not that bad.”

“You’re awful.”

“And yet you stick around.”

Your gaze drifted to where Jihoon was seated under a maple tree with his friends. “Maybe I just have bad taste.”

[I’ll be waiting at 3 in the library. Room A232. – Jihoon]

Seungcheol mumbled something under his breath as he accompanied you to the library. Before you could ask him about it, he turned to you. “Can’t you just tell him you’re his soulmate? What’s the worst that could happen?”

You stared at him. He quickly realised the error of his words.

“I just mean that maybe he’d like to know. Maybe he’d act a little warmer towards you if he did.”

“I don’t know what you’re expecting him to treat me like,” you said. “He knows me as Eunmi’s friend. As someone complicit in the worst lie of his life. He’s treating me very nice all things considered.”

“Well, he still should know,” he decided. “If you don’t tell him, I will.”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever you say, big guy. I’ll see you in the journalism section in a few hours?”

He sighed. “As always. Wake me up when you’re ready to go.”

And just like that, he picked a direction and headed that way – to his lonely little napping spot between shelves of journalism guidebooks. It was a good thing he got along so well with the librarians.

Though you weren’t a stranger to this library, you still felt a little out of place this time. Maybe it was the nerves of meeting Jihoon again. You hadn’t seen him even once outside of the one film studies class you both took.

Or perhaps you were just anxious about the fact that you had failed to watch the film due to reasons out of your control. Lee Jihoon was notorious for having a short fuse with his peers. You weren’t sure you could handle falling even further down his list.

The plaque on the door read A232. You double-checked it. Triple. Four times. Five–

Jihoon startled you by opening the door. “Are you going to come in or do you expect a formal invitation?”

“I… was just checking,” you mumbled and brushed past him into the little study room. You placed your things down opposite of the seat he had occupied. This was it – the end of your life. You hadn’t even said goodbye to Seungcheol. You sighed, closed your eyes in anticipation of the scolding that would follow, and confessed, “I didn’t watch the film. I’m sorry.”

You were ready for an onslaught of sharp words, the scolding of a lifetime, maybe even some screaming and him telling you that you were just as bad as Eunmi.

But it never came.

He sat down and hummed. “Yeah, I didn’t have time to watch it either.”

Dumbfounded, you opened your eyes to stare at him. He felt your gaze on him and looked up from his screen with an awkward tight-lipped smile. “What?”

“I thought you’d yell at me,” you spoke faster than your filter could catch.

He chuckled and scratched the back of his neck. “I thought you were going to yell at me.”

“What now?” you thought out loud. You hadn’t prepared for this scenario, not even close.

Jihoon made faces – scrunching up his face and frowning between silly smiles and pursed lips – as he considered the options. “We could… watch it now?”

“Like, now?”

He nodded slowly. “I don’t have any plans for the next couple of hours. Do you?” You shook your head, too speechless to actually respond. “Then let’s watch it. I have a speaker somewhere in my bag– Hold on. I’ll get it.”

Your brain was severely lagging behind. You hadn’t even realised the implications of his words. Your jaw dropped. “You mean–? You want to watch it together? Here?”

“I mean,” he paused and looked at you, “I wouldn’t mind picking a different place. We could go to the courtyard. Or a café. Well, probably not a café but–”

“There’s a lounge room on the third floor,” you blurted out. “There are sofas and a vending machine.”

Jihoon brightened up at your words. “That sounds perfect. Let’s go?”

“Sure,” you breathed out, unable to believe this was happening at all.

It took barely 5 minutes for the two of you to get to the lounge room. Jihoon was quick to occupy a three-person sofa in the corner of the room, right between the vending machine and the ceiling high window. With a victorious smile, he patted the spot next to him.

You must have been too slow for his liking because tilted his head to the side, eyes still on you. “Did you want this spot instead? I’m okay with either. Just say the word.”

You said nothing and took the spot he had previously offered. The less you spoke, the less likely you were to piss him off – it was only logical.

As you sat there and waited for him to set up his laptop and speaker, you glanced at your wrist. The fluffy cat on your skin was endlessly, tirelessly running towards him, looking back at you as if to convince you to reach for Jihoon.

You looked to his wrist instead, wondering, perhaps hoping that you’d find a similar doodle trying to get to you. Even if it just glanced, just to confirm. But his soulmate mark was hidden, covered with a black wrist support.

He glanced back at you before lifting said wrist. “Are you looking at this?”

Cursing yourself for getting caught staring, you nodded and tried to act like your ears and cheeks weren’t burning.

He shrugged. “My wrist hurts sometimes. Nothing to worry about.”

Deflecting. You knew him well enough to know that even if he was telling the truth, it was only half of one. He was lying to save his pride.

“My roommate has the same one,” you said, deciding to go along with his narrative. “She says it doesn’t help a lot though.”

“It’s the cheapest one I could find,” he replied with a shrug before turning back to his laptop, searching for the film. “Do you live at the dorms?”

“Yep.” But he knew this already. He used to visit Eunmi there, right across the hall from you. You cleared your throat and willed the thought to go away. “That’s why I didn’t manage to watch the film. I was going to watch it over the weekend, but the dormitory wi-fi was the slowest it has ever been.”

He scoffed on your behalf. “That sounds awful. What did you do in the meantime then?”

“My roommate had to bring out the board games. So, Monopoly.”

He laughed and sat back on the sofa, leaning closer to you to hear more. “That almost sounds even worse. Any friendships ruined that night?”

“No, no, you don’t understand,” you laughed along, almost forgetting you were nervous to be around him in the first place, “we played Monopoly for two days straight. The same game. It just didn’t end. My roommate and her boyfriend are no longer on speaking terms.”

“Monopoly truly does ruin relationships.” He laughed harder, almost leaning against you entirely in the fit of giggles. “Did you win? Who won?”

“I came in third place.”

“Out of three?”

You nodded shamefully as he laughed even harder, this time fully resting his head on your shoulder. He quickly leaned away though, much to your disappointment, but his giggles never ceased. It was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard.

Despite the shared laughter at your study sessions and sitting together in class, Jihoon never acknowledged you outside of the lecture room. He barely even glanced your way when you passed him in the hallways; he definitely never returned any waves or even nods. You weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry.

Seungcheol was left to gather the pieces of your confidence. Though he was vehement that there was no soulmate for him and he’d be happy being single his entire life, he refused to let you suffer the same fate.

It was already getting painful to watch you mimic his habit: hiding the fluffy cat under a variety of bracelets and wristbands, covering it with long sleeves whenever the weather allowed. Your hope had turned into anxiety in front of his very eyes and he’d be damned if he let you continue down this path.

“If you don’t tell him, I will.” – he was going to stand by these words. Even when you practically begged him not to.

“He won’t like it,” you’d told him.

“He’d be upset with the both of us,” you’d scolded him when he presented the idea again two weeks later.

“Why would he even believe you?” you’d scoffed.

He decided he’d make Jihoon believe him. So, after sending you off to class, he located your soulmate in the same lounge room you’d introduced to him. He was even resting on the same sofa.

Seungcheol stood in front of him and cleared his throat.

Jihoon straightened up immediately at that, pulling his laptop screen down. “Can I help you with something?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“About…?” Jihoon scoffed when Seungcheol offered him no further context. “Listen, if this is about something (Y/n) said or did–”

“She never told you, did she?” he asked. “You still don’t know.”

His counterpart blinked. “Know what? What is this? Do you have no one else to play mind games with?”

“Jihoon,” he sighed, “she’s your soulmate.”

His words were met with a frown. “What nonsense are you speaking now? No, first you barge in here, and now you’re making up stories– Does she know you’re here?”

“She knows I made a promise. For her.” Seungcheol closed his eyes and spoke as calmly as he could, “She’s your soulmate. She’s the little spotted cat on your wrist. You’ve been breaking her heart this entire time and I’m sick of it.”

Jihoon’s frown deepened. His hand clenched into a fist in his lap as he spoke, “If she’s– Why didn’t she say anything?”

“That you’ll have to ask her yourself. I just came here to balance the scales – it seemed unfair that she suffer with the knowledge but you break her heart with every word.” Seungcheol sighed and opened his eyes again, gaze hardening. “What you do with this knowledge is up to you. But if you break her heart any further, I will break you.”

You were blissfully unaware of your best friend’s actions. In fact, you hadn’t seen him since lunch. You had been preoccupied with making the slides of your film studies presentation more, –well–, presentable.

The courtyard was a perfect spot for drawing inspiration for slide designs: the fresh air did wonders to your brain and the constant distant chatter of your fellow students served as white noise. You were on a roll.

Who knows, you thought to yourself, maybe Jihoon will even grace you with his proud smile when you show him the presentation.

Suddenly, a strange feeling filled you. You habitually glanced down at your wrist – the cat was standing on his hind legs, as if trying to peek over a fence to see what was in front of you. Like he was expecting his owner back from a long trip.

“So it really is you,” you then heard his voice.

Your head snapped up to look at Jihoon standing right in front of you, his eyes trained on his own wrist – miraculously uncovered this time, the usual black band crumpled in his other hand.

Your voice and words betrayed you, they left you fighting in the battle field all alone. You gulped. Instead of acknowledging his words, as if doing so would make the situation disappear, you turned your laptop his way. Your voice wavered as you told him, “I made some changes to the slides. Thought it would look better if we made them prettier. What do you think?”

But Jihoon kept staring at his wrist as if you weren’t even there. How could he not stare at the spotted cat he’d spent all these years mindlessly glancing at, following, and talking to in the moonlight? The cat who had once stood for a broken dream now stood for a new hope.

Finally, he tore his eyes from the cat – the mark of you – and looked at you instead. There was something so incredibly sorrowful about the look in his eyes, you could barely fight the urge to cry. He didn’t bother to do the same.

A tear slipped down his cheek as he shakily breathed out. “You could’ve told me, (Y/n). Why wouldn’t you– Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was afraid,” you confessed, avoiding his eyes. “I didn’t think you’d want to know. Not after what she did to you.”

He scoffed. “You watched her lie and break my heart and it never occurred to you to just… tell me? To just say you were the one? That I was looking the wrong way?”

You wanted the ground to take you away. It would’ve hurt less than this confrontation. All of these eyes curiously watching from a distance, the whole campus witnessing him breaking your heart – it was too much. Even if he was right to be mad.

“Jihoon…”

“What were you so afraid of?” he wondered, frown deepening and voice raising by the word. “That I would reject you in favour of her? That she would stop being your friend because you foiled her plans? I don’t know if you’ve noticed but she’s clearly not a good friend so why are you still siding with her?!”

“I’m not!”

“It sure seems that way!”

You glared at him. “I stopped talking to Eunmi the minute she told me what she had done!”

Jihoon expression softened at your words. So did yours. You sniffled. “I had already let her go too far because she was the only friend I had when I first came here. She was the only friend I had known. I didn’t want to lose both my best friend and my soulmate. I thought–” You took a deep breath and avoided his eyes. “I thought if I couldn’t have my soulmate, I’d at least have a loyal friend who wouldn’t let me feel lonely. I was mistaken.”

Running his fingers through his hair, he sighed. His arm dropped, his eyes following as if to make sure the spotted cat remained.

“You should’ve told me,” he whispered once again before stepping closer, crouching to your level. He sighed once more. Then you felt warm fingers around your wrist. “Had you told me–”

“Just reject me and be done with it,” you begged. “Don’t make this even worse. I deserve my heart shattered, but at least make it quick.”

He frowned. “You didn’t even let me finish.”

“Then finish quicker. I still have a presentation to–”

“Had you told me,” he started again, more assertively this time, his hand holding yours tightly as if to anchor you to him, “I would’ve rejected her and run to you back then already. I would’ve believed you without any hesitation. But seeing as that didn’t happen,” he sighed and you braced yourself for a proper heartbreak, “I guess we’ll just have to make up for lost time.”

Your heart stopped beating. At least it felt like it did. Your eyes widened while searching his. Instead of a scowl or a frown or a glare, you found yourself on the receiving end of a fond smile.

Your jaw dropped. “Are you serious?!”

“As serious as Seungcheol is about breaking me if I break your heart,” he promised with a soft laugh. His fingers still never left your hand, only sliding down to lock with yours.

You groaned and closed your eyes in despair. “...He’s the one that told you.”

“I’m glad he did,” he laughed, “because I don’t think you would’ve told me for a while, and I certainly wouldn’t have figured it out anytime soon.”

“We’re both dumb, aren’t we?” you mumbled, finally opening your eyes again once the embarrassment faded.

“Complete idiots, the both of us.”

“Soulmates,” you joked.

“Soulmates,” he confirmed with a laugh.

You still wondered though. “Why aren’t you more mad at me?”

He shrugged and sat down next to you, shoulder to shoulder, on purpose this time. “I thought I was at first. But I don’t think you’re at fault for what Eunmi did to me. You were just trying your to be a good friend.” Seeing your sheepish smile, he nudged you playfully before whispering, “Plus, I’m not entirely sure I could take Seungcheol in a fight.”

You laughed. “I guess that’s one perk of being his friend.”

Jihoon smiled. “He seems like a great friend. I like him better than I liked Eunmi.”

“I do too.”

“What do you say we give this a proper try?” he suggested, holding out his hand for you to take, the doodle-like cat on his wrist full on display.

You smiled. When you lifted your hand to meet his, the fluffy cat rushed to meet his spotted one where your skin touched. Their noses pressed together happily, the cats nuzzling into each other’s necks after finally meeting each other after all this time of being so close but never close enough.

“I’d like that,” you told him and he breathed out in relief.

With the awkward distance out of the way, sitting beside him didn’t feel as nerve-wracking as it once had. It felt natural to be in his presence now. You wondered if you’d be drawn to him soon, just as your soulmate marks were drawn to each other.

“How did you find me here anyway?” you asked him after a moment of silence.

He shrugged. “I followed the cat. Figured that if Seungcheol was right, the mark would lead me right to you.” He gestured around. “It did.”

“Huh.” You pursed your lips in thought before giggling. “I guess I should’ve tried that when I was looking for you earlier.”

“Earlier? Today?” he wondered.

You remembered your laptop all of a sudden, pulling it closer to the two of you. “I made some changes to our presentation. I wanted to show you and then we could maybe work on it a little. Hold on.”

“Right now?” He seemed amused at the idea when you nodded. “Sure, we could do that. Or, – hear me out –, we could go on a little date to make up for lost time.”

But as tempting as that sounded…

“The presentation is due tomorrow morning, Jihoon.”

He grimaced. “Brunch date tomorrow then?”

“... I could fit that into my schedule.”

Note: I only wrote this so I'd have an excuse to later write cute university boyfriend / soulmate Jihoon fics as sequels lol

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #seventeenweeklyarticle #woozi scenarios #woozi x reader #lee jihoon x reader #lee jihoon scenarios

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cheesus-doodles · 21 days

Note

Yan! South and fluff.

Do what you want with it i just need more of this pookie bear that would never hurt anyone🩷

Masterlist | More South fics/asks

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been a hot minute! gentle reminder that my asks are closed at the moment :)

I wouldn’t say South would never hurt anyone…but this boy certainly has a lot of love to give, and there was no one more worthy than you to be the receipient.

With you, South was like a completely different man. Gone was the violent, merciless delinquent he usually is, and left in its place was a kind, loving man who had lost his childhood and was keen to make up, who would never dream of doing you harm. So very careful never to bruise your porcelain skin with his otherworldly strength, you can be sure that even if this boy ever gets mad at you - not that he does, his patience for what he will put up with when it comes to you is almost unlimited unless it's leaving him - South would try everything before resorting to physical means. And for someone as bloodthirsty as him, that is saying a lot.

‎

We all know how much South loves music at this point - even his entire fighting language revolves around it - and no doubt even though he freely shares his passion with the rest of his gang, happy to sing and give a show when they were keen to listen, South would share his love of music with you in much more intimate ways, away from the prying eyes of the rest of the world.

No doubt his ideal date would be a lot quieter than what anyone would expect from someone that looks like him: just you and him at his place . If South had his way, it would be where you would spend all your time, not just whatever free time you could spare, but alas you kicked up a fuss about missing school and the boy relented. He absolutely loves to play the piano and sing with you seated in his lap; you’re barely a hindrance with his enormous stature, a perfect fit if he would say. Would go out of his way to learn what your favourites songs and tunes are so that he can learn how to play and sing them just for you. Of course he would prefer if you liked the same kind of music that he did, but this boy doesn’t mind either way; music is music, and you are you.

Would even offer to teach you how to play the piano if you want to, and would be so very patient with you while you learnt. He’s happy that you would take the time and put effort into something that brings him so much joy, would spend the entire time with his arms around your waist and his chin on the top of your head.

‎

Carries you everywhere on his shoulders as if you weighed nothing, because you basically did. Next to him that is. This boy has incredible strength and stamina, and keeping you up and away from the riff-raft of the common people. Not because he dislikes them, but more so because he doesn't trust them around you. You weren’t always with him (yet), and someone could get funny ideas when you were alone.

And it's not like South wouldn't enjoy bringing you out either, why wouldn’t he? Shows you off whenever he gets the chance to in fact. Aside from bringing you to the occasional gang meetings, his top choice would be a live-music bar, preferably blues or jazz, nothing too noisy or jarring. After all, he was here first and foremost to enjoy your company, and he wanted you to be able to enjoy yourself with him as well. No one is going to dare approach the booth with the giant foreign man all but dwarfing you, so you will have to be the one to go up and place the orders for the two of you.

You would be the maybe the only person alive who knew that South had a collection of soft toys by his bed that this boy couldn't sleep without. And you would also be the only person that South would willing to share his collection with you. Most of them are really old and fragile, and even with your He still watches you closely while you handle them, of course, but if you do choose to cuddle with them, this boy can't guarantee that he wouldn't die of happiness.

‎

Of course it would help greatly if you were a willing party in this entire debacle, that you truly wanted to be with South and that it isn't just South playing out a delusion in his mind. Because in this delinquent's eyes, it has always been a two-way relationship. With how much time stronger this boy is compared to you, he could probably wrangle you into submission without even realizing it, manhandling you whenever he wanted to do something that you weren't keen to do, all the while believing that you wanted nothing more than to be with him.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #yandere tokyo revengers x reader #yandere tokyo revengers #tokyorev #tokyorev x reader #south terano #terano minami #south terano x reader #yandere south #yandere south terano #cheesus answers #tokyo rev x reader #yandere tokyo rev x reader

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jellalism · 10 months

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Wriothesley x GN!Reader fic: Aftermath

You were one of the members of the now-disbanded Beret Society. Now that it's all over, Wriothesley invites all the people involved to his office one by one, to apologize and offer what little comfort he can.

Word count: 1677

Genre: Comfort

Content warnings: Mentions of trauma (no details)

Notes: Reader is gender neutral. Relationship can be read as either platonic or as a budding romance.

Read below or on AO3.

Before the Beret Society debacle, you and Wriothesley were on amicable terms. Not quite friends yet, but there was a mutual interest. He’d strike up a conversation when he saw you sitting at the cafeteria or when you ran into him in the halls. He had even invited you for tea once — something that turned out to be a common interest.

Then you joined the Beret Society, and it alienated you from the rest of the Fortress — including Wriothesley, your friend in the making. You wanted to talk to him, everyone in the Society wanted to talk to him in some sense, but no one had the guts or the clarity of mind. Telling the Duke everything that was going on was obviously the rational thing to do, but humans aren't as rational as they'd like to believe. A plethora of emotions is more often the root cause of actions they do or do not take. In this case, the prime emotion was fear. If the pay-off seems uncertain, and the price for failure seems infinitely steep, it is a scary thing to even consider taking that necessary action. And so everyone kept silent. You kept silent and kept your distance.

But now, Wriothesley has finally solved the case. You sit in his office. Every victim of Dougier was invited individually. Not for a stern lecture, but for comfort and apologies. From those who had gone to his office before you, you have already heard that there would even be financial compensation for Wriothesley's "lapse in delivering justice swiftly".

One by one, everyone was called to his office. It had taken a long time before your name was called. In fact, to your surprise, you had been the very last. Does he not want to see you? He may be hurt by your sudden distancing when you joined the Society, you fretted. And once you sat down inside, your worrying didn’t stop. Thoughts still whirl inside your head.

Despite the couch's comfort, your body is tense. You don't lean back against the sofa; instead, you sit upright, hands on your knees, legs close together. As if trying to take up as little space as possible; as if the very room is pressing down upon you. Wriothesley had turned on some music earlier, but even the soft tones of the piano resounding through the office don't manage to put you at ease.

"What kind of tea do you want?" His voice pulls you from your reverie.

It takes a moment for the question to register, and then another moment before you start stuttering and mumbling "I-I don't k-know, whatever you w-want."

From the corner of your eye, you see him turn around and frown.

"I'll just make you that oolong tea from Liyue that seemed to be your favorite when we were..." — he seems to weigh his words carefully — "... talking more often."

He puts a teapot warmer on the table in front of you, lights the candle below it and places the pot on top. "Now, let's let it steep for a couple of minutes." He finally sits down next to you on the sofa, but still at a respectable distance.

"Let's talk.” He takes a deep breath. “I'd like to sincerely apologize for not recognizing sooner what kind of place the Beret Society was. It has done immeasurable harm to people, and as warden of this fortress, it is my duty to prevent such things from happening. I failed. I am sorry."

You can’t find a single word to say. What is this? You knew he'd apologize, but now that it's actually happening, a flurry of unexpected emotions overtakes you. Relief and confusion, fear and happiness.

"If you want to talk about what happened, I'm here to listen. It’s the least I can do."

It’s the straw that breaks the Sumpter Beast's back. You cry. Not prettily; you bawl. The tension, built up over months, comes out all at once. You hide your face in your hands, trying to somewhat lessen the sound of your sobs, but it's to little avail. Suddenly, you feel a hand on your shoulder. Wriothesley’s hand seems hesitant, as if he's afraid to touch you. But his voice is soft and comforting: "You can cry as much as you like. It's okay. I'll be your shoulder to cry on."

You bridge the distance between you and him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. After a moment, he wraps his arms around you.

"It's okay, I'm here now. Everything is going to be alright."

You let the tears come. For several minutes, you sit like this, his warm arms wrapped around you. Then, finally, you untangle yourself from his embrace. "It was terrible." Your voice is soft and shaky, but the words come out. Wriothesley listens attentively while he pours tea and hands you a cup.

"To have that stuff injected, it's just... the worst possible nightmare."

"Mm-mm."

"And even when it's over, it's not really over. The memories are there and the fear still runs through my veins, like my whole body is riddled with it, like my whole body isn't my own, like it's possessed by an evil spirit that—" You bite your lip trying to hold back the tears.

Wriothesley's arm wraps around your shoulders again. "I'm sorry I couldn't stop it sooner. But I'm here now. You're safe. I'll do whatever I can to make you feel safe again. You won't live those nightmares again."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I'm sorry I took my distance from you, I just—"

"Hey." He places a finger on your lips. "None of this is your fault. Don't apologize."

"But I must've hurt you!" Your voice is barely more than a whisper, but your heart seems to scream it out.

"Well, I can't deny that I was a little disappointed to see you take your distance. But I didn't want to force you to hang out with me, so I just let it be. But that last time we spoke, even though you seemed glad about your membership in the Society, I thought I saw a glimpse of fear flit behind your eyes. In truth, that's what brought me to investigate. To make sure you really were in a good place."

You stay quiet for a moment. Wriothesley did that... for you?

"In that sense, you were instrumental in solving this case. I wouldn't have been on the trail otherwise."

“Thank you.” Your voice is barely audible.

“It’s my duty and my pleasure to take care of you. It’s my job as the warden of the Fortress to make sure everyone is safe, but it’s my desire to see to your safety specifically. I’m fond of you.” He softly squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. “If there’s anything I can do for you, let me know.”

You want to speak but are a little nervous. Wriothesley notices. “Whatever it is that’s on your mind, just speak.” His tone is almost commanding, but not unpleasantly so. It’s just the push you need to speak.

“If possible…” You swallow and gather the courage to continue the sentence. “Can we stay like this a little longer? I felt so lonely for so long… I need to feel someone's warmth beside me.”

Wriothesley grins. “Why did you think you were the last person I called to my office? I have no other things to take care of today, so you can stay as long as you like.”

“Thanks,” you murmur and snuggle next to him, careful not to spill the tea you’re holding. You take a sip. It’s as good as you remember, and you close your eyes in relaxation. Wriothesley knows how to make tea the right way.

“You really do have good taste,” he says softly. You open your eyes and find him, too, sipping from his own cup. “Oolong is a tea I don’t often have by myself, but maybe I should.”

“Right?” Some amusement creeps back into your voice. It’s been a long time since that last happened. “It’s such a unique taste. It’s simultaneously delicate and strong.”

“Like you, then.” He smiles.

“I—… What?” You look at him in shock, while his smile turns into a genuinely joyful laugh.

“It’s good to see you flustered like this! I like it! But” — his tone turns more serious — “it’s also true. I know you’re hurt. What you went through is horrible. Unspeakable, in more than one sense of the word. But I have full faith that you’ll get back up. You’re strong like that.”

“Am I, though?” you whisper to yourself without thinking.

Despite speaking so softly, Wriothesley still catches your words. “I believe you are.” His words are simple, but he speaks it with such certainty and authority that you are tempted to believe him. “And if you ever feel like you can’t take it anymore, I’ll be here for you. You don’t have to walk the path to recovery alone.”

Instead of speaking, you rest your head against him and close your eyes. You’re tired. You hadn’t realized it earlier, but speaking with Wriothesley, crying against him, shaking, letting go of all the tension… You’re exhausted. And he’s so comfortable. His arm is still wrapped around you. It makes you feel warm and safe.

“Tired, huh? Rest as much as you need.”

The scent of the tea, the soft fabric of the sofa, the piano piece on the gramophone, Wriothesley’s strong arm around you, and the warmth he emanates — they all lull you into the most peaceful sleep you’ve had in months.

***

As you fall asleep, Wriothesley carefully takes the cup from your hands, still half full. He looks at you with a smile. They’re so cute. For a long time, he gazes at your sleeping form leaning against him. Then, with his free hand, he grabs a book that is, fortunately, within arm’s reach. He’s willing to stay here for a few more hours if it helps you rest, body and soul.

#genshin impact #wriothesley x reader #genshin x reader #wriothesley #wriothesley x gn reader #my writing #fanfiction #its me. im back. with the comfort #comfort is what i DOOOOO baby

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beanibon · 1 year

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Millions Knives x SelfHarm!Reader

Kinda my own comfort fic, but I know others want to have their favourite villain to give them cuddles through hard times.

Please take care of yourselves and reach out if you ever need help, my dms are open if you guys ever need to chat 💜

TW: self-harm, self-blame, general topics of depression.

He shouldn't have given it to you, that tiny blade he had snapped from a tendril. A gift he intended for self-defense, a reminder of himself. A courting present.

Now all Knives felt was horror seeing what you had used that gift for, head shaking at the sight before him.

Knives was a destructive being, destroying everything in his path for the sake of his goal, slaughtering and maiming humans. Seeing that blade in your hands, bloodied within those gentle hands of yours, the very same hands that soothe his own pain. It was a reminder that all he brought was destruction, even to those he loved and cherished.

"Knives? You weren't suppose to be back for-"

"Why?" Your eyes turn sullen, finding interest in the floor where you sat. Knives heart ached, ached that you couldn't look at him, ached that you didn't trust him enough to come to him. "Why? Why would you do something like this?"

He didn't mean for his voice to raise in volume, he truly didn't mean it. Knives wasn't angry with you, disgusted by what you've done. He was scared. Memories of his own painful nights at destroying his flesh, experimenting with new blades that he produced at whim.

And to forget the pain of his brother aiming a gun to his skull.

"I didn't give you that to destroy yourself with," Knives hissed out, taking a step towards you, watching as you flinched at his tone. He truly didnt mean to speak to you like you were nothing, yet he couldn’t stop those words from sounding like watered down venom. "I gave you that blade, to remind you of me, and how much I want to protect you." He softened his tone, kneeling before you with an extended hand.

"Please my darling, hand me the blade, let me replace it with something that won't cause you harm." Those baby blues, filled to the brim with nothing but adoration for you, a pathetic human that slithered into his cold heart.

Your usually happy eyes, once brimmed with joy, filled with tears. Quiet sobs racked your body, wilfully releasing the blade to the plant that crumbled it to dust in his own hand.

Soft hands graced his skin, body instinctively tensing, only to relax seconds later. Blood-soaked arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him into hug. Knives reciprocated instantly, arms enveloping your tiny body.

It took months for him to allow you to touch him, years till he returned your touch with his own. Now Knives couldn't go without those soft hands holding his face, or massaging his scalp as you forced him to 'sleep'.

Now those soft hands were covered in blood, your blood.

Carefully as to not harm you further, Knives untangled himself from you, holding your arms. Ice blue eyes examined the new cuts littered across your wrists, a sympathetic sigh slipping past his lips.

"This pain is all too familiar to me, I know the urges, the constant need to relieve that agonising pain," Your eyes widened at Knives confession, looking at his own arms despite the suit covering them. "I understand it may take some time to stop, but I will not be apart of your relief, never ask for a blade from me again. Instead come to me so that I can help you overcome this, I'm not that terrifying. . . Am I?"

Quiet laughter broke the frown etched on his features, a small smile replacing it. "You aren't terrifying, at least not to me, not anymore." Those soft hands on his face had him melting, purring into your touch.

"Good, let's get you cleaned up shall we? Perhaps I'll let you make your obnoxious sounding music on my piano." A smug smirk was present on his face the moment your eyes sparkled, you weren't allowed to touch his beautiful piano unless he was guiding you. Otherwise the room would be filled with your childish keyboard smashes until Knives was sulking, silently fuming with a pounding headache he gained afterwards.

"It's called artist keyboard smashing, and you love it." You teased, wiping your dried tears.

Knives chuckled, playfully rolling his eyes as he gently held you in his arms, carrying you to your shared bed. That's where Knives cleaned you up, the very same hands that were covered I'm the blood of countless innocent lives, bandaged your arms with such gentle concentration.

"Thank you, Knives." You nuzzled into his neck, eyes closed.

Knives simply hummed, a kiss placed into your temple that had you instantly opening your eyes, mouth agape with a smile. He immediately regretted it.

"You kissed me!"

"I always do."

"Only after I kiss you first! You did it without me initiating!"

"Keep bringing it up and I'll never kiss you again."

"You wouldn't survive that long, you need my kisses to live on. Otherwise you'll shrivel away to nothingness." Your soft giggles had Knives pouting form relaxing, eyes examining the personality that chipped away at his protective walls. Knives would have to protect you now, more so than previously.

And he'd do just that, holding your hurting soul close while he worked hard to keep you safe.

"I suppose I don't despise your kisses that much."

#trigun stampede #trigun #millions knives #trigun x reader #knives x reader #million knives x reader #millions knives x you #million knives #knives millions #trigun stampede knives #knives x you #millions knives x reader #nai x reader

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isa-loves-you · 1 year

Text

How you meet and realizing you like them | The group chat.

I love the GC and I like reading Fics about them, so I want to contribute. This is my first-time doing publishing on Tumblr, so it probably won't be the most organized. I am open to criticism or requests. I desperately need guidance.

This is going to be broken up into different parts because this was originally almost 5,000 words but tumbler will only let me post so much at a time.

-Isaac-

you had met isaac back in 2020 when you and some friends decided to go into discord servers and expose pedos. your friend had told you to hop on a server thinking it was with creeps but ended up being a couple of people doing the same thing as you. you all had a laugh and traded information on which servers had what type of weirdos were in. After that night you and isaac had messaged each other here and there about being in his discord videos which you had no problem with due to want to collab with other youtubers, and some years later asked you to be apart of a group with him and your guys mutual friends called the group chat.

Sometime had passed and you, isaac, tanner, larry, nick, yumi, and grunk all made a podcast and even moved into one big house all together. You had decided to stream watching random videos on the internet and just generally talk with chat. " I know that we've been watching meme comps chat but we need to add some spice to our night or I feel empty handed when I end the stream.... well besides leaving with your hard earned money that you donated i'll be empty handed". After saying that everyone started to type anything and everything that came to their minds, but something caught your eye "Have you or isaac read the fic about yall??" you said reading the chatter's comment. You immediately start googling for what this insane person was talking about, and after muttering to yourself about why isaac and you of all people out of the group you find it. "I'm sorry to chat but i need to know and besides one of you recommend it" you start reading it out loud. The story read of you and Isaac slowly falling for each other. "Chat who made this, I want you to reveal yourself so you can be shunned from the village" you bursted out with laughter at some of the parts in the fic but you had to admit, this author knew too much. yeah it's true that you started to like isaac but you knew nothing could ever happen because you work together but you have to admit he had a nice physic and was extremely funny, but still nothing could ever happen. After 30 more minutes of stream you decided to end the stream because you were getting too red from laughter and embarrassment from the fic; you said goodnight to your viewers and thought that no harm would come from a fan's artwork about you and your friend. turns out you were wrong. The next day you were bombarded with fan accounts and edits of you and isaac from past videos. you're scrolling through some of the comments of the edits and something catches your eye.

Isaacwhy?: Damn you guys are trying to manifest something fr ;))

you couldnt believe what you just read; Did he really like you too?, how long has he liked you?, what would the others think?, could you two be together?. Your mind was left with a lot of questions but you had come to terms with it. You like Isaac.

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-Nick [soft willey]-

you had been making music since you were five when your parents got you a fisher price piano. you've just fell in love with your hobby and wanted to make a career out of it, that's when you decided to put your name out there as a singer/rapper. You didn't have a voice like sza but it was good enough to make a living off of it, and it was better when you would pair it with your genius lyrics. It was a nice Sunday afternoon when your music producer Kenny called you to come into the studio and that there as some people, he wanted you to meet and collab with. you had seen that your producer was in the booth with three dudes and a camera? Your producer has seen you looking through the booth glass and gestured for you to come in and met the people he was talking to. There was a tall guy with a hat, sunglasses, and a black mask, there was a shorter guy with shoulder length hair that was pointing everywhere. The two guys were pretty good looking but the third piqued your interest; he was around 5 '10 with a nice build, it was very obvious that he spent his time at the gym. “This is y/n they are in the same business as you three” your producer presented with a big smile on his face. “It's really nice to meet you, Kenny convinced us that you would sound the best on our new single” you shook the gym guy's hand noticing the tattoo of a long spiky line wrapping around his arm. You got so distracted looking at the guy's arm and everything else he had that you didn't hear your producer calling your name “y/n you can't let go of nicks hand now i think he knows you now” you dropped nicks hand realizing how long you just held his hand without him saying anything. “All right let's get to work people, isaac would you be a doll and do your verse first so y/n can get the flow of the song and see what they need to do”.

It took the whole day for you guys to actually record the song. With larry making funny faces while the nick and isaac where in the middle of their verses and make them laugh so you would have to start back from the beginning then you would issue were either you or the others would have a hard time saying a word right or you went faster or slower than the beat then it was start back at square one. A miracle had happened; you all got through the song with no hiccups and were able to send it out to an editor for some final touches. You had grabbed your stuff and walked out to your car so you could finally go home and let your dog out. You almost got to your car when your arm was grabbed, you wiped your head around so fast to see who you were going to have to beat the shit out of. “I'm so sorry i shouldn't have grabbed like i was going to kidnap you or something but i was shouting your name but you just kept on walking” Thank God it was just nick and not some creep. “oh no no you're okay i was just surprised is all, so whats up?” “I was wondering if i could get your number or maybe your insta so you could be a feature on some of our future stuff, you were awesome like kenny said and i want to keep you around”. It was nothing but two seconds of silence before Nick took back his words “i didn't mean it like that i just mean like your killer and it would be great if you got to do more with me…..not with just me just in general with music. Fuck you get what im trying to say right” “yeah i get what you mean” you said breaking a smile to make him feel less embarrassed “here just put your number and insta in, so we can do more stuff”. He took your phone for a minute to put all is information and handed it back to you with a puppy dog like smile. Dog? “OH, SHIT RALPH” you had forgotten about your poor baby at home “I'm sorry Nick but I have to go!” nick had tried to say something, but you were already in the car and backing out of your parking spot. ‘Whose ralph?’ nicked thought as he watched you leave the building “NICK GET YO UGLY ASS IN THE CAR I WANT TO GO HOME” Larry shouted hanging out the back of the car window. Nick spent the whole night trying to find a ralph in your following list on Instagram, but he had no luck and decided that he didn't care who your mystery man was he was better than this ‘ralph’ character and that he was going to win you over.

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#softwilly x reader #the group chat #yumi x reader #the group chat podcast #tooyumi #yumi tgc #tgc #yumi #larry croft #isaacwhy #softwilly #BigT

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earthbaby-angelboy · 7 months

Note

Imagine what happens if you, say, skin your knee while you're little and playing around the Chautauqua fairgrounds; you come running up to Walter just crying that you've got a boo-boo.

too much of a good thing | little!reader x cg!walter hale (wc: 1,004) - A/N: i was thinking of doing headcannons, but this idea is so cute that it deserves a full fic. with that, i'm going to start calling his little one "adne." it'll make my writing a bit less ambiguous/confusing. enjoy!

It was a hot and sunny morning, so you'd spent most of the day helping Charlene with small tasks, while Walter was nowhere to be seen. As the sun went down, the only illumination on the camping grounds were the small lamps and string-lights some of the performers had pitched up earlier. You began to worry. It was getting dark; where was your daddy? You and Charlene sat in the music tent, with her behind the piano and you sitting on a chair near the bottom of the stage.

"Leenie?" You asked, looking up at her. "Yeeeeees?" Charlene responded in a sing-song voice, while reviewing sheet music for tomorrow night's performance. "Where's dada? Haven't seen him all day."

Without missing a beat or looking away from the information in front of her, she responded "I haven't seen Hale- your daddy, either. I know he's very busy, but I'm sure he'll be done soon."

A small frown appeared on your face, and you murmured, "that's not fair."

Charlene tried not to let out a huff. "I know, honey, but your daddy is a grown-up and needs to do his job, so he can keep paying for all your plushes and pretty little dresses. You wouldn't want to go without those, would you?" She gave you a pointed look that had a playful air to it. You shook your head with a small smile. "No, wouldn' wanna go without those."

Propping a hand under your chin, you began to think. What could you do while waiting for Walter to get back? A few minutes of thinking later, and a lightbulb went off in your head. "Leenie, 's it okay if I go n' catch lightnin' bugs? That way, I can have a jar full of em' for dada when he gets back!" You asked excitedly.

Charlene sighed and finally tore her eyes away from the papers. She looked at you, practically bouncing with excitement at the idea of doing something to appease your daddy. She sighed, and gave in. "You know, honey? I think I've done enough work for today. Let's go catch some of those lil' buggies."

Getting down from her seat on the stage, she took your hand, and walked you out to the middle of the Chautauqua, near Walter's tent. As soon as you saw the little bugs, you took off in a run! The actual objective of catching some had flown out of your head as soon as you saw the beautiful iridescence they provided to the plain atmosphere.

"You better be careful, young lady! We don't need you getting any bruises," Charlene called after you. You giggled and continued to run around the grounds, hopping over the tent stakes and being careful of any rocks. As you continued to play, you became more tired, and a bit more clumsy. Charlene had noticed, but she too was now worrying about where Hale had went. Before she could even think of where to look, she heard a commotion from a tent halfway across the camp. She couldn't make out any of the voices or what they were saying, but she knew that it was bound to get rowdy.

Wanting to get you out of harms way, she called, "Adne, how about we come inside now?"

At the same time, Walter emerged from the tent the commotion was coming from. He was clearly agitated, with some of the performers in his face, shouting things that Charlene couldn't make out. Something about "cutting wages" and "lying about taxes."

She called you again. "Adne, come on-," but was promptly was cut off by the sound of a small thud, then a loud wail.

"...DADA!"

Everyone who had been previously arguing with Walter went silent. Stopping mid sentence, he held up his hand to signify that the silence should remain.

"Baby? You alright?"

"Hale, just get over here!" Charlene called.

Hearing that, he pushed through the crowd and jogged over to where you were on the ground. With the way you'd wailed, Walter was expecting a broken bone or some blood. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Charlene say, "baby, it's not that bad! Just a small boo-boo, nothing a bandaid can't fix!" Which was promptly followed by you shouting, "I'M BLEEDIN' LEENIE!" A smile came over Walter's face when he realized that you had not gotten seriously injured, but had just scraped your knee. Sighing with a slight smile, he crouched down in front of you and tilted your chin up to look at him. "What are you cryin' about, little miss?"

Sniffling, you responded, "got a boo-boo. Don' like boo-boos."

Walter looked up at Charlene, who responded, "she wanted to catch fireflies for you, but got a bit too excited. She's been asking after you all day." He sighed, then went back to you. "Alright, you got daddy's attention. Will ya stop cryin' now?"

You shook your head back and forth, your face puffy and red from the tears. "You gotta kiss it better, dada," you said in a soft voice.

The truth was, you had been thinking about your daddy all day. You wanted him to hold you and give you the attention you needed, but it seemed that he had "more pressing" matters. If the day had gone differently and you had still fallen, you wouldn't be in shambles. But it just seemed that this was what opened the floodgates.

Walter looked behind his shoulder at all of the performers who had been eavesdropping on the conversation, and for sake of seeming tough, he wanted to tell you to stop acting silly. But looking at the pretty little one sitting in front of him, dress splayed out and eyes wide made him throw all hesitation out the window. Softly, he leaned down to kiss your knee.

Seeing the relief on your face, he asked, "better?" You nodded. "M' better. Thankie, dada." He shook his head with a smile. How lucky he was to have someone as gentle and sweet as you.

"You're welcome, lovebug."

#elvis presley #the trouble with girls (1969)#fanfic #fanfiction #elvis agere #walter hale #cg walter hale #elvis cinematic universe #its 11pm so bare with me if this sucks #this was a lot of dialogue and tbh i don't do much dialogue #i hope yall enjoy it anyway!#:-)

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astranite · 8 months

Text

Respite (Spun Glass and Golden Light)

Scott and John, or sky and star!

It's another long one at a bit under 5000 words! Tags copied from ao3 as look, I really should be asleep already.Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, theres a fair spectrum of emotions here, Brothers, Thunderbird Five (Thunderbirds), Nightmares, John is also pretty not okay here too as well as Scott but they are both working on it, space metaphors thrown in for good measure, Cuddling & Snuggling, because everyone needs a hug of course, another fic where John and Scott drink hot chocolate!, they are both also learning they can let each other in and Scott is realising this.

Many thanks to the fab @idontknowreallywhy for all the cheering on and wonderfulness!

---

“Do you want to come up to Five?” John asked.

Scott answered far too fast. “Yeah.” His voice broke in the middle.

John thought it would take more convincing, it always did to get Scott to accept anything approaching help. But this time…

He caught one last flash of blue eyes made bluer, meeting his and piercingly desperate, before the hologram shut off from Scott’s end and John was blinking away the after images in the suddenly dark comm hub.

Scott, in rumpled day clothes at 2:47am Tracy Island time, hair falling across his forehead in uneven waves of curls. Scott, whose dark circles under his eyes had startled John into thinking they were bruises, his sharpened features thrown in harsh relief by the dim lamp by dad’s desk. The hologram was fuzzy at the edges, all noisy static between him and his brother, but John couldn’t miss the way Scott looked over his shoulder like he expected something to be there. Or someone.

Ghosts of his past, John thought, then shook himself.

Scott had nightmares, they all knew it. But he always pretended he wasn't shaken by what he saw. Tried to carry on like they didn't happen, like nothing ever happened, and Scott was as invincible as the legend he’d built around dad was.

John saw, more often than the others. There was a reason he monitored the villa feed for movement outside of usual hours when the rescue alarms hadn't gone off.

He’d caught a few funnier moments for blackmail, namely Alan and Gordon attempting to steal storebought baked goods from the fridge and getting them mixed up with Grandma’s latest creations in the dark. Repeatedly, because they’d never figured out how Scott and Virgil conspired together to swap the containers.

But there were worse ones for all of their family. Nights Alan slept on the couch because being in his room, alone inside close walls was too much. Gordon making his subdued way through the halls, cheerful facade gone with gasps of pain unable to be stifled, going to get painkillers from the infirmary for his back. Kayo, prowling on silent feet, checking, triple checking security feeds for any slightest threat, not able to believe in the safety of their island anymore. Jagged notes of piano, near silent from keys barely pressed, while Virgil had tears on his face.

And Scott, of course Scott who had it the worst of all of them, who was the bravest of them but couldn't see it. Late nights, ending slumped ragdoll-like over endless paperwork from endless responsibilities put on his shoulders. Agitated pacing, wearing only socks so he wouldn't wake anyone, ragged breaths louder than his footsteps. The times when Scott was a trembling ball of tears, curled under dad’s desk where he barely fit anymore, hands over his head blocking everything out.

Sometimes John talked to them, offered company and comfort, other times he let the moments pass silently. He was used to witnessing things he could never speak of again; his own moments of pain rarely had anyone but he made sure his siblings’ did, just in case they needed someone reaching out for them.

Watching over Scott in particular to make sure no harm came to him was an unsaid duty John took as his own. Virgil was there in the day, with him on the ground during rescues, but John amongst his stars kept the nights within his reach.

He’d already sent the space elevator down and now he waited, marking careful timings as Eos quietly spoke them. Scott was suiting up. Scott was finishing pre-launch checks. Scott had reached the Kármán line, the beginning of space.

John drifted through a gravity-less Five, switching to lights that gave off a soft, golden glow. They filled the Thunderbird up like she was one of those ancient incandescent bulbs, long since obsolete. Like she was delicate spun glass as well as cahelium strength, two opposites the same, together complete where glass could break and cahelium bend. She was different from her sister ships, a different purpose and way of approach, but in the end she was the same. Rescue. Salvation. Pulling them all back from the void.

He couldn't take the nightmares away, the fear and pain scarred deep in his brother’s bones, but he could offer respite. Warmth and light and safety, with some distance from it all. A set of arms to hold Scott close and a shoulder to cry on when it was needed. It was something, it was everything, in the rare times Scott could reach out and take it.

And John needed it too. He could watch over Scott from afar, he always would, he couldn't not. But he also needed his big brother close enough that he could feel his heartbeat, how his chest rose and fell with each breath, not just as numbers on a screen, but here and real and close. Maybe he wasn't the touchiest person generally, but his brothers wrapped up in a hug or sides pressed together where they sat, their soft voices in the bubble of quiet, that meant safety. With only arm’s reach to check if they were okay, especially for looking out for Scott. There was a reason that otherwise he had to have all of the data. But right now he needed Scott.

John waited for the familiar clunk of the space elevator docking, for Eos to give the all clear for her checks for the airlock being correctly pressurised, before the doors opened.

They silhouetted Scott in their frame, stuck halfway between the warm lights of Five and the cooler, harsher ones in the space elevator.

Scott hesitated, like he always did here, a hand blue-gloved in space issue suit gripping the edge of the airlock.

John opened his arms, because Scott needed this as much as he did. They were the same this way.

He was met by a brother tumbling towards him, clumsy out of their element, in a crashing hug. For a moment, John almost expected it to be Alan, eager and young, those blue eyes— But Alan was nearly as graceful up here as John these days. And his eyes didn't hold the same nightmare bright intensity and John hoped they never would.

Scott hit him in a collision of bodies and John had to stop their combined momentum, a foot finding a wall to slow them until his shoulder slammed into a bulkhead cabinet anyway. Automatically, he wrapped himself around Scott.

“Just a bit of a bump, nothing that hasn’t happened before. You gotta have a lighter touch when you kick off in micrograv,” John said cheerily. Scott was still mumbling repeated apologies under his breath.

John took the moment, in spite of his words, to just cling to Scott, like Scott was clinging to him, burying his face at his brother’s neck. A moment, a minute, a respite.

Finding handholds on Five’s inner surfaces was as easy as it was familiar. John could find every one of them blind, oxygen-deprived, with no Earthly directions as a frame of reference. He had, before.

He shifted to get his fingers around Scott’s wrist, a quick tap on his hand to warn Scott first, then Scott’s locking around his own in a rescue grip, to pull them through a quietened Five as one.

To the galley. Hot chocolate wasn't quite the same when it came in a foil pouch with a straw as opposed to Earth’s ceramic mugs, but it was chocolate and you could still warm your hands around it.

John made up two, passing one off to Scott where he hung about against what was nominally the wall, though the orientation didn't matter without gravity’s bounds.

“Thanks.” Scott tried for a smile. He was still gripping the hand hold with the white-knuckles-beneath-gloves grip of someone unused to being without gravity and scared to drift away.

John settled on the ceiling in arms reach, with just his toes tucked under a bar.

Quiet lulled between them. John’s favourite type of quiet, with just the soothing hum of the life support systems, the ever-present undercurrent of Five, and their own breathing.

Technically, it wasn't hot chocolate, but nutritionally-complete chocolate-flavoured drink didn't have the same ring. It wasn't the same as a proper meal but a stressed Scott barely ate, John wasn't exactly sure how many hours had passed but it’d be too many if he counted, and right now Scott needed something sweet and calorie-dense and easy to get into him.

It was fine until Scott shifted, his hand slipping momentarily with a sharp intake of breath and that all too familiar flash of panic swiftly hidden. Except up here that split second where he flailed before freezing up and stopping himself sent him into a spin.

John caught Scott’s outstretched arm to steady him. He moved next to Scott with a graceful twist to be against the same wall so Scott could hold onto him. Taking the hot chocolate from him, John gently guided Scott’s hands, one to the grab bar, the other to his baldric.

“You can’t fall up here, not really. Even if it feels like it sometimes,” John said. Reassured. Because this was his sleep-deprived big brother he was talking to, not the perfectly put together Commander.

Scott’s eyes searched his face, latching on to John’s with the same unbreakable trust that let John lead on missions where he could see more from above and Scott actually listened.

“Okay,” Scott said, like it was that simple, like anything in their lives was simple. Because he believed John.

They were close enough that John could see how the strands of Scott’s hair were matted together by old gel not yet washed out. More grey was flecked around his temples, his hair surrounding his head in a floating halo from the lack of gravity and the way it caught the light.

Scott flinched at the soft click-rush-clunk of ventilation systems cycling as they should be, a sound unusual for Scott but not enough to normally be a threat. Scott’s fingers tightened on John’s baldric.

Both of them breathed slowly and carefully, to a steady rhythm of calm until the moment passed.

With how Scott was obviously still struggling with the lack of gravity, John quietly decided to make it easier for him when he wouldn't ask.

“Eos? Gravity back on please,” John murmured aloud to ensure Scott had some warning.

The lights around her camera blinked, flashing to a sunset tone in acknowlegement.

“Will do, John,” Eos said.

The gravity ring mechanisms whirred as they accelerated to the appropriate velocity, providing a force at what would soon be slightly less than Earth standard gravity.

“Hello, Scott Tracy,” she added in greeting. John had noticed they’d been getting on better recently, he was glad of it.

Gently, he guided himself and Scott until their feet touched the floor. Until they could sit next to each other on the ground, cross-legged with their knees bumping, to finish their hot chocolates.

When Scott slumped with relief, letting out a long, shaky exhale, John knew he’d made the right call.

They stared out at the stars now ‘below,’ stretching out into infinity. Always captivating.

Scott hadn't looked out there, eyes carefully averted until he’d shuffled even closer to John, and John had tucked an arm around him to hold on. Because while Five and her warm glow, her connection to everything meant safety like any Thunderbird did, for Scott the gaping void of space held only danger and the need for rescues. Only with John it became their sky again, like they were stargazing on the roof of the farm house on Earth, far beneath them and years ago.

“You want to talk about it?” John asked softly, an opening so that Scott knew he could share and he’d listen.

“Uh. I don’t know. Maybe?” Scott’s usually well hidden uncertaintly bubbled to the surface.

“I’m here for you. Either way it’s okay,” John reminded gently, because Scott needed to hear him say it aloud even though it was always there implicitly.

“Nightmares. It was the snow again.” It was a sign of how far Scott had come that he would talk about what was on his mind, instead of burying it deep inside in a misplaced attempt to protect them. John found Scott’s hand and gently squeezed it.

Scott shuddered, continuing, “Probably from the rescue the other day, the entire mountainside came down. But it was with all of you guys instead and it looked more like the skii slope from the avalanche and mum, but I was too late and I couldn't save you, there was nothing I could do, you were all gone and I was alone—” Scott’s voice rose, distressed.

John could feel him shivering against his side, had only to glance to see the tears building in the corners of Scott’s eyes, the way he had his teeth sunk into his trembling lower lip, the same as he always did when he was trying not to cry. John’s heart broke at that, it always did. He gripped Scott’s hand, tightened the arm around him in a wordless effort to make sure Scott knew he wasn't alone, John was here and he wasn't going anywhere.

Scott took a deep breath and went on. “I know it wasn't real, but it felt like it.”

John made a quiet, empathetic noise. In the moment, in the haze where the lines blurred between sleep and wakefulness, nightmares did feel real. And in the sick feeling after when you just couldn't shake it. He’d been there too.

John could imagine the warmth of Scott’s hand through their space rated gloves as Scott squeezed his. “No matter what happens I’ll always fight for you all and I know you’ll all do everything you can to make it back home to me. And we have systems and procedures in place, and better equipment designed for bad conditions, and everything to make sure that never happens. But it still scares me,” Scott admitted.

“It scares me too.” Usually he didn't say that part aloud though with the work they did and the consequences they saw it never hadn't been in mind. “But we hold onto hope and each other and never let go.” John’s voice came with a fierceness he hadn't quite realised was still buried inside him. They had to believe in it. Or they were already broken.

“We’re Tracies. We’re not going to stop trying to make it home.” Scott returned with a fire John had missed before he dropped quieter but no less determined. “All of us. Even— even me.”

John hung onto him because he knew how long it had taken, how much it still took for Scott to say those words. To mean them.

He pressed his forehead against Scott’s temple. The fear of losing Scott to his own sacrificial, heroic recklessness bit at John even now, along with the need to somehow protect him from the world.

But they both were alive, here and now, in spite of the odds so far.

Scott leaned into John.

The feelings, the fears were there, but together up here amongst the stars they lost enough of their power that they could sit with them and they would soften, the raw edged terror of nightmares washing away.

Five was a bubble of light surrounding them, sheltering them from both the void of space and all that was outside. He and Scott were wrapped up in their own little world, as tiredness itched at John’s eyes and Scott lay his head on his shoulder. John pulled his big brother closer, not that there was really any space between them anyway. They were safe as much as was possible in this big, vast world. More importantly, they were here together.

John waited, not wanting to break the moment for as long as possible, wanting in a childish way to stay here with Scott forever, until his legs were numb and achy from sitting on them, until his eyes were threatening to slide shut, until Scott’s weight against his shoulder was resting heavily against him. Even then he was loathe to move.

A gentle poke and repeating his name had blue eyes blinking sleepily up at him from how Scott was slumped.

“Bedtime, big brother.” John trailed a hand through Scott’s hair, brushing back the stray strands fallen over his forehead.

“Mmmph,” Scott grumbled, tucking his face further into John’s neck.

Scott’s characteristic instant alertness come online a couple of seconds later and he pulled away. All for that he hadn't been properly asleep, merely content and dozy, a rare sight John treasured.

They walked, pressed shoulder to shoulder, to John’s tiny bedroom, tucked away on the nearer side of Five’s gravity ring. Reduced gravity made their footsteps lighter but the company did that too.

Scott hesitated at the door of the second cabin, mostly used on the occasions when Alan was up for training, put there because Five wasn't initially designed to be manned alone which John purposely didn't think about.

When Scott shrank a millimeter closer to John, John pretended not to notice the display of what Scott would call weakness in himself but never in anyone else, and nudged him with a casual, “C’mon. Puppy pile?”

“Does it still count without everyone?” Scott replied, following him though.

“Mmm,” John thought, “Yeah.” He knew he missed out on plenty on Earth too.

A hug pile of just them might be just what they needed. Both of them at this point. Memories of the whole family in a tangled, happy heap were some of John’s fondest and he knew that went for Scott too. But it was a lot and right now Scott needed calm and quiet to rest and not to feel as if he had to put on a brave face in front of everyone.

John pulled pyjamas out of his cupboard for them both, tossing an obligatory space pun t-shirt and pair of comfy sweat pants at Scott. Sharing clothes with Scott was easy given they had the most similar builds of their siblings, tall and slim, with Scott being slightly broader across the shoulders and John running more awkwardly lanky. IR space suits were comfortable but not the most for sleeping in, despite how often John ended up doing so.

They changed into pyjamas in silence, except for when John yawned midway through peeling his suit off, then Scott did too, causing them both to giggle in the way of the well past tired.

John smiled to himself while he put on a pair of socks, watching Scott poking about his room, trailing fingers over the spines of his paper books, then inspecting the stickers on his window and the handful of glow-in-the-dark stars John had up here because they reminded him of home even with the real ones right outside. His big brother’s curiosity even over these tiny details of his life, a facet he didn't often see with John up in orbit so much, made him warm inside. Especially with the way Scott was so relaxed up here in what was John’s space, a stark contrast to earlier and the staticky comm feed. The dark circles beneath his eyes remained though.

With a jaw-cracking yawn, John tipped backwards to lie on his bed. He wriggled his galaxy patterned duvet out from from beneath him where he’d landed on top of it, unattaching it from the side of his bed where it fastened to formed more of a sleeping bag to prevent him from drifting away when he left the gravity off. Which he probably did too often when the days blurred together, rescues and downtime without separation.

Stars, he was tired. Too many rescue calls, not enough sleep for— he no longer kept track of how long, but that was another day’s problem. Right now, he was here and Scott was here, so John could believe everything was going to be okay. Provided they both got some shut eye sometime soon.

Shuffling over to the wall made more room for Scott, even if John usually curled up right in the middle. The bunks on Five were larger and far more comfortable than the narrow and too short for anyone who wasn’t like, Gordon height, ones he remembered not so fondly from his NASA days. Still, not exactly sized for two people both over the six foot mark but they could make do.

“Promise I won’t push you off,” John joked.

Piling all of their siblings, because if one person was getting cuddles everyone suddenly wanted them, onto beds and couches definitely not designed for so many had led to the occasional person falling off the side, usually facilitated by shoving from the victim of a grievous crime such as ate the last sweet.

Scott rolled his eyes and repeated John’s motion of flopping down onto the bed, long limbs all everywhere, complete with tossing an arm over John’s chest and a foot over his ankles. He let out a dramatic sigh, looking to John out of the edge of his vision for his reaction.

John couldn't even pretend to be annoyed. This was Scott messing around playfully and John had missed this even as he still didn't take breaks from monitor duty and all his emotions were bubbling up in his chest until he was laughing, until there were tears in the corners of his eyes.

And Scott was laughing too, John could feel him shaking with it. Nothing was even that funny but here they were, giggling like a couple of careless, carefree kids, the sound echoing off of the walls. Five filled up with their laughter, contained it in a cocoon of light and air and protective walls between the vacuum outside where no noise could travel.

They were both left grinning exhaustedly at each other as the world came back to the reality that it was well past 3am, they needed to actually sleep especially with Scott having come down from the adrenaline crash of a nightmare and rushing up here. John rubbed at his gritty, tired eyes.

A word to Eos in addition to a goodnight had the lights switching off, the room only illuminated by the stars outside the window. Shutters would automatically close when Five’s rotation would put them facing the sun, but for now John could look out and marvel that he was here as he used to do every night, reaching up to touch one of his glow in the dark stars, a familiar green on the wall.

Scott watched him and John gave a half-shrug before shuffling closer. And he wasn't alone.

John shook his head to clear it before rolling onto his side, holding out his arms to Scott.

Big brother immediately went in for the hug, burying his face at John’s shoulder, clinging to him with maybe a little left over fear or maybe just because John was near. He wrapped his arms around Scott tightly. Took a moment, another moment just to be.

Wondering how long it had been since he’d been part of a cuddle pile with any his siblings, instead of an outside observer in holographic format was not something he wanted to waste time on right now. Or how it still took a horrific nightmare for Scott to seek respite from all the pressures of the world that seemed gathered around dad’s desk. Or for John to get respite from falling on the wrong side of the distinct divide between solitary and alone. Not that he could ask for it, he and Scott were too similar in that way. Instead, John let himself sink into the hug.

“You alright, John?” Scott’s concern was not unusual, he always found a way to check up on them.

“I’m really glad you’re here.” It could be interpreted in several ways, glad for Scott, glad for himself. That’s all John had, the rest he couldn't possible articulate but it was enough for now. He tucked his nose into Scott’s hair.

The sun shutters slid over the windows exactly as they were supposed to. They were left with the green glow of his own stars.

Scott’s chin was digging into his collarbone. Neither of them would likely have slept enough to be safe to fly tomorrow with the hours they were running to.

He shifted, making a quiet noise. Gently rearranging them was easy when Scott willingly followed through with John’s actions, guiding him to lie with his back to John’s chest instead. John wound his arms around Scott, ending up with his hands resting over Scott’s stomach, able to feel the rise and fall of it with each breath. He bumped his forehead against the back of Scott’s neck.

“‘M not the little spoon,” Scott protested even as he snuggled against John.

“Reality would suggest otherwise,” John returned, an observation, with the edges filed off as his deadpan humor had turned accidentally cutting these days.

It was rare that their positions were not reversed no matter the little brother involved. This made sense on a surface level, Scott’s height was greater than anyone else’s, long arms to pull them close, wrapped up safe. He was big brother, the eldest, their leader, he was the one who protected them from the world.

But John could also be there for him. Usually that meant from afar, a hologram projected from a wrist comm they always kept on them or beside flight controls, a voice in his ear, an extra set of eyes. All the data at his fingertips and a Tracy’s determination to keep their family safe. He didn't know whether anyone realised how many crises he averted before they became problems. He protected Scott, and it was far easier now he would let them in.

Scott was warm and something tightly wound inside John loosened. They were there for each other, it was a balance, this was how the world worked. Now that Scott let them take some of the weight instead of carrying the whole universe on his shoulders, it was easier to lean on him too because they shared things like this. To not follow Scott’s less than stellar example of hiding struggles, but from a big brother who tried to do and be everything instead of the little ones, because John couldn't bear to add anything else to the pile. Scott trusted him, he could trust Scott too.

John was just about to drop off to sleep when Scott suddenly tensed up.

“I don’t want to go to sleep. I don't want to have more nightmares.” The words came out jagged and scared, whisper quiet.

Scott was exhausted but the fear was stronger, unpredictably resurging just when everything seemed alright. John had seen how Scott would try to escape it before passing out into uneasy unconsciousness. He found Scott’s hands, sought them gently and linked theirs together.

“I can’t make them stop but I will be right here if you have one,” John said, “I promise.”

“I know.”

Scott settled again, letting out a deep breath.

John felt Scott fidgeting with his hands, carefully curling and uncurling his fingers, tracing over his knuckles, pressing their palms together, as the fear ebbed again.

The sounds of Five washed over them, humming softly as if breathing with them too. Familiar and home. John’s family was also his home. He needed them too. They needed him. He and Scott were rest and safety for each other as much the Thunderbird was for the world.

John made sure to give an, “I love you,” to his big brother while he was still awake to hear it because these things were important to be said and to be heard in reply.

Slowly, ever so slowly the grip of Scott’s hands relaxed, remaining loosely entwined with John’s as sleep finally came.

John kept holding onto Scott. A Scott who knew he could come to John for anything and had come to him tonight. Scott was here, they were both here together on Thunderbird Five amongst the stars. The rest of John’s thoughts trailed off at sleep’s approach but they were filled with a quiet hope.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #john tracy #scott tracy #sky and star #astrawrite

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immoralimmortals · 5 months

Text

A Song With Ten Names

Chapter 9: This December

Chapter 1 ☆ Next chapter

Summary of chapter: It's hard to play the entire piano, end to end 88 keys, with just one set of hands. It's impossible to go through life totally alone, no matter how well you convince yourself otherwise. Itachi, Kisame, and the traveler discuss the little things that set her world apart from that of the shinobi.

Author's Note: The song for this chapter is This December by Ricky Montgomery, lyrics not entirely in order.

CONTENT WARNING: the overall warning for the fic is especially prevalent in this chapter. Allusions to suicide, suicidal behavior and ideation, self harm.

I also now have a playlist with each song in order of appearance :)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It's just a little bit, it's just a little bit

Lonely in this home

It's always colder on your own

My darlin', I

I let the season change my mind

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Kisame keeps an arm’s length about as well as the traveler can ignore how a full size piano could be taken back to the mansion with just a scroll and a puff of smoke. That is to say: it was, for certain, a noble attempt. She’s watching him now, bumblebees idling by as he re-sides the brick wall in humid summer air. Ivy pushes forth from its cracks, poison and otherwise alike, so he had rolled his eyes and pretended like he wasn’t going to be the one working on this chore anyways, having no allergy. As if Itachi would sully his pretty hands.

In this time together, the princess’s knight hasn’t been so bold as to ask...why? He knows she’s lonely. Damn, so is he! But she was told, right? That her first set of bouncers weren’t the exception but the rule for the rest of ‘em. It’ll be her fault, he excuses himself, if anything amiss were to threaten that lovely little neck of hers. He’s still stuck on the stage of denial where it’d just be for the mission if he did- and he should- make the offender pay dearly, direly, desperately.

The woman contemplates, too, but at a different pace, eyelids low and sleepy under the blanket of midday humidity. Contradictions are smothering: guilt for feeling guilty. But she’s an adult, and prolonging the sensation makes her weary. Best she can do is do her best, and in this case, it means to think about other things until that part of her psyche settles down. Ironically, this shift causes another part of her mind ramp up— a rather metaphysical sort about this predicament she finds herself in. Kisame, of course, is a part of it, but he is not the whole: she is unhappy about her happiness. Sadness can survive even in summer air.

Under the shade of the back porch awning, deep in a trance, it takes her a second to recognize a second shadow has layered over her, just a bit darker where she sits.

“Mm…? Oh. Thank you.” A cup of tea passes between the Uchiha’s hand to hers, ceramic hot to the touch, but not too hot as to burn in your grasp. It’s an uncanny skill he has, this perfect steep; a personality like his would be well suited for a cafe, she muses. Steam raises as the cup tilts at her lips, a mist collecting on her rose-pink lenses that sit on top of her head; they aren’t the best at being sunglasses, but they’re cute, and that’s a good enough reason to still have them. Slowly, knowing her as jumpy, the gentleman raises a finger and pokes the object, just enough that she can feel it start to part her hair.

“I haven’t seen these before.”

Despite his efforts, she blushes a little; memory of Kakuzu’s confusion over them have made her a touch bashful. “Glasses. Use them to read.” She points to the sky with a finger of her tea-holding hand, the other cupping her chin while its elbow leans on her knee. “Help with the sun.” There’s only the slightest shift— tilt of his head— as he contemplates the usefulness of tinted reading glasses.

...Strange girl, indeed. His own brew perfectly balanced above his lap, Itachi sits on the stoop beside his ward, his partner’s work and grunts as much of a buzz in the background as the bees in long-untamed rose bushes that line the property. Thoughtfully, he allows a relaxing pause before he prods the traveler further:

“Do many have such glasses where you come from?”

Lazily, a “mm-mm” negative-toned hum and shake of the head answer him. It’s like she’s sucked dry of energy. “Clear or black tinted, just like here. Bought ‘em because they made me happy.”

He takes in the details of her, lax in a noonday breeze. Rosettes— tiny and pink— adorn her white dress in vertical rows, frocked with thin, blue lines that match the powder tone of the sweater she’s tied around her waist. Certainly not attire she chose to travel in, the sort of ground to cover between here and Hoshigakure. This is merely one reason among many that she is not of Hoshigakure, of course, a fact so obvious he sees no point in berating the matter when he can get right to the heart:

“What brought you all this way from the stars, Miss Takara?”

He won’t be able to tell, but she isn’t nearly as eager as she used to be, back at the bar with her job and patrons. “I just… I don’t know... It wasn’t worth it anymore, I guess.” She shrugs, the weight of the matter much lighter upon her shoulders than it should be thanks to many, many hours of reflection. “I just wanted to be done with it all, end it the way I wanted to. On my own terms, you know? As much as I could.”

The man tilts his head even further, closer, as if proximity will assist their connection, and he answers softly. Her own words are tinged with a poison, regardless of her relaxed attitude. “...You speak of severance of an utmost degree…” His gaze is kind. It understands. “It must have been difficult.” But her eyes just look through the trees. For as warm as the cold man is, so is the warm woman being cold in turn.

“Just seemed like the logical thing. That’s all.”

“Miss Takara…” She’s just an inch away, both as he leans in and as he pulls the curtain of her mind away. “...What in particular pushed you so—?”

“Can we talk about something else?!”

It’s the first she’s ever demanded anything of them, let alone in such a tone. The woman bares her teeth and pinches her brow. The change stands out enough to warrant Kisame look over his shoulder in concern. The calm of lazy days is broken, in pieces in her fists. As such, the woman is abruptly too seen.

“I—oh…" Immediately, as if on command, she becomes as small as before. "Sorry. That was out of place. Sorry.” Itachi masks his surprise well, dipping his head in acceptance of her behavior.

“It’s understandable.” And it's no lie. Such emotional affairs...difficult to unwrap without tearing a layer or two. But still, she’s too unsettled to continue this dance around speaking her destruction, and she picks herself up from the steps of the porch.

“Excuse me—”

The cup of tea is set behind in her stead, dappling light washing over and away until she’s walked back into her home. The knight watches in silence, up until the very last bit of her is out of sight. He frowns at his fellow Akatsuki. “Are you going to—?” He won’t admit it’s too good to be true, living like this, and so it’s a relief when Itachi shakes his head. The easy way of the Sharingan is not a necessary one, to accomplish the mission. Persuasion will remain as talk.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I wanna see you with your head wide open

Empty in the ground, gone without a sound

Just another white elm growing at the end of town

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Only in my

No...that’s not right.

Her wrists raise again to press the keys:

Only in my dar

Hm. No. No! This shouldn’t be so difficult. Her silhouette is framed by the wall of the newly dubbed “piano room”, walls blackened with indoor shade while the outside glows with color. Itachi takes it in before stepping further towards the musician, the fuchsia of her glasses becoming clearer as the branches outside fade into bright, blinding light of the sun with his changing position. She doesn’t flinch, she doesn’t look. The music simply continues:

…Or it is trying to.

“What’s wrong?” the raven inquires from the doorway, interloping for his real concern. His eyes need not look at the piano. “Is it not tuned?”

“No…” the woman hums, unhappily. “It’s fine. It’s… It’s me. It’s the song.” There’s such a sharp frustration in her voice that was never present before, in this past week of daydreaming together, playing house. “I’m used to it sounding more full.”

Itachi blinks. “What’s missing?”

“Instruments that don’t exist.”

A rather blunt answer for how the woman typically presents herself, now a bit of a rose like her garden rather than a shrinking violet. Well-versed with thorns, the man draws closer behind the piano bench. As he does, he notes how this woman looks as if she was made to exist in this room, now that it’s been properly attended to; floors rustic but comfortable, a soft shade of brown wood that match her boots; a seat with a blanket and pillow neatly set atop, embroidery flourishing the edges of fabrics; the birds sing hardly some feet away as they do their best to peer inside, past antique curtains and old glass; a kitschy clock with tick tick ticks as a reliable metronome. Her fingers decide to go on their own, lyrics now wayward as she pins her thoughts too sharply onto black and white. Itachi, as always, listens, but he receives more than he anticipated.

It shouldn’t be so easy to catch an Akatsuki off guard.

“You are all...incredible.” Villains live on her tongue with such love. Could anyone but of another world treasure them? But that word has more meaning, here, than just to compliment. She refuses to look up. “You have wonderful abilities. Magic.” The performer has hardly seen anything of this place, but it’s more than enough to witness a man sink into the ground and a piano evaporate in a cloud just to arrive here in the middle of nowhere. She’s eager for more, but she is afraid— afraid, for obvious reasons, reasons like the magician’s red eyes.

“Why?” This question is so rehearsed that there’s no need to focus upon it, no need to stop playing idle music. “Why me? What makes me so special?”

Itachi answers simply. “You know why, Miss Takara.” But she shakes her head to this.

“Kind of. But. I don’t! Not why I’m here. Not what I’m useful for. Itachi, I-- I didn’t come here on purpose. I just woke up. And it had happened.” He furrows his brow, every so minutely.

“No explanation whatsoever…?” It’s hard to believe not even a clue in the laws of her dimension, what can and cannot make sense. “Do you not have higher powers, where you were? Chakra?” Another shake.

“I don’t even know what chakra is! What I had was just...reality.” The word is wistful under her breath. “I don’t know how else to explain it.”

“Perhaps you can try," her confidant offers.

And perhaps that's a wrong move of his in this chess game of feelings and semantics, as now she’s fallen mute. Her hands stray from the piano. They fold on her lap. He’s right behind her, now, but she still won’t shift to see him. A phrase repeats in her head, one of the voices that’s resided like an itchy scar for years, that she’s pushed away into the crowd of the village bar, or the traffic at rush hour, or the meaningless chatter of a TV screen. Those sounds are not here to pacify the voice, to rescue her away. She has no place to hide from it now, as she wonders what color Itachi looks at her with:

What have you done today to deserve your eyes?

“And what if it’s worthless to you?” The voice objects to her worth, to how she can see what's so good about living when she contributes so little. It's a question that logically brings another next, sorrow heavy in the space between them. “What then?”

He pauses, but unlike hers it is done in precision. The performer has her own answer that she wants to hear, and he knows another cannot become until this has its say.

“Itachi... Zetsu told me something." It's hushed, it's vile, it stings the way she speaks of him. It's like how you speak of a disease. "I’ve heard you’ve done something terrible. I’ve heard that you killed people.” It is true, and yet he must pretend he is unbothered, merely allowing she continue her interrogation. “Why not torture me? Hypnotize me again? Get it over with and go back to your lives?”

...

She waits. She waits and waits and waits like each tick of the clock above her head is slowly poisoning her air. There’s nothing she can do about fate; just make it quick. But Itachi sees her as his mirror, aware of what is behind the glass of their window, light shining bright enough to blind. He knows the tactic, the reflection of questions back without answering his.

“Why are you so eager to suffer?"

“Because...—” A justification so quick breaks so easily, and so does her voice, the answer so obvious. “Because…” But can she say it? She can’t catch her breath. As the truth is spoken, it nearly chokes.

“It’s...too good to be true.” She whispers something a sin to even acknowledge. “I still need to wake up."

No more flowery words or vague analogies.

"I still need to die.”

Without her conscious say, the woman's own hands have been fidgeting and rubbing so hard they might become raw, her fingernails pinching at her cuticles to tear skin away shred by shred. Maybe if the woman keeps pulling, she’ll unravel, and this will all be done. Crying shouldn't be so hard, but she’s already shed so many teardrops for her own sake. In the time they're needed most, they do not come. Surely, this is proof that dying would be of no regret. The crow looks with sad eyes, so hurt that he's expected to see her as a vulture does carrion.

“Takara-san…” So this is what she keeps inside. Burning intensity, ice-cold flame, feels intimately familiar. Who would he be to ignore such a plea? A black cloak shuffles like crow feathers around the unoccupied side of the bench and fills her lonely space. Because he knows this suffering so well, so too is there knowledge that this isn’t the core of her being but the veneer, the protection of something precious that you want left alone, lest a glass shatter so fine it becomes diamond dust. “You don’t deserve that.” A hand with a crimson plaque gently grasps her own, pulling bleeding fingers away from their small self-destruction. The player allows it, though her hissing mind does not cease. Please don’t waste your time on pitying me. Her blood will dry on his skin.

“It isn’t about deserving it. I told you. It just...made sense to do.”

He’s getting an idea, now, of how she ended up this way, so frayed and delicate and yet so wide open to whatever comes. It’s the kind of person you are when you meet the end. The raven weaves his fingers between those of the ghost. The muscles in hers tremble with effort, as they refuse to melt into his as they craves to.

“What if you can make it worthwhile?” he proposes. “Is there nothing to enjoy? You told me you liked the rain. That dragonflies shimmer so beautifully in the sun. ...And what of us? Do you not enjoy Kisame? Perhaps even me?” A bold addition, considering his reputation, but it finally makes her flinch. The queen has been captured, a move that paid off. At first her mouth grimaces, but slowly, surely, it’s a bitter smile.

“...The guilt card…” her voice quivers, the tiniest touch of gratitude amid playful seething. “That’s what we call this back home…”

With no worthy reason not to, just for him, she gives in. She lets him hold his hand, soft flesh giving way under his. A killer can comfort she who perhaps is the next prey. The wolf and the lamb need not carry on tradition, not just yet.

“Please promise me something.”

“...Anything.” She’ll never know the weight his vow holds.

“When it’s all about to end...tell me. Whenever that becomes the plan. I have no reason to fuss over it. I don’t have anything to lose.”

But you guys.

He already spoke his seal, his dedication, and so Itachi finds it unnecessary to taint the moment with a mere verbal confirmation. Her smile becomes more genuine, and gratefully, she rubs his knuckles with her thumb. Eyes close again, this time with a closer semblance of peace, and a blind hand raises by its wrist once more. It isn’t trying yet for the melody; she merely...appreciates the notes. She lets them resonate deep in her, its echo up her bent arm and into her heart. The player studies them individually and by their own merit rather than failure to replicate a certain song, returning to the basics of what makes a sound pleasant to the ear.

With two silhouettes side by side, layered into one person with two heads in the dark, maybe there’s a new version of what “complete” means. A rendition. A remastering. A rearrangement. How can one note mean so much? To seep such emotion into cold-hearted murderers...a talent, indeed.

The next step in healing is to try move on.

“Itachi,” she repeats, about to outdo herself. “What do you like?” She beats him to the cop-out: “Besides time with me.”

While a question he’s gotten sarcastically once or twice in the past few years, it has never been one with an answer. You either know him well enough to not need ask, or you do not. And with his own mission, it leaves few worth the time to see firsthand. However...her happiness, however brief, is part of this journey now. To indulge her is to unlock his secrets. It is a risk worth taking, and so he closes the gap until he’s right up to her side and can whisper innocent things from terrible lips.

“My brother,” he begins with the most obvious, the sun his planet revolves around. He hears her murmur of surprise. “I left him when he was small. But everything I do...I do for him.” He’s never...seemed happy before. Placid, yes, perhaps even content but...happiness is what this is. She can hear the smile just underneath his collar. “When he said my name...nothing surpassed that joy. He loved playtime with his big brother. He wanted his shadow to be just as long as mine, if only to keep me safe. He loved being where he didn’t belong, just to stay beside me. ” And Itachi regrets that he cannot do the same.

Itachi’s happiness stings.

The rose leans into him more, and the Uchiha welcomes the intimacy that scratches him with her gentle touch.

“He sounds...incredible,” she repeats, though different in meaning. A cracked eye sees his free hand raise, and a finger that has sent many to hell tries to join her in heaven with a single, harmonic voice.

Ding…

It joins her perfectly, something deep from her on one end and bright from him upon the other.

“He is. He always will be.”

And that’s enough. She needs to return the favor, thinks the crow: “And what of you? What do you like?” With the question, her finger inches just a little closer to his, just a little higher in tone.

“I…” Dumb things make her heart race, as ever. Her cheeks tinge the color of her glasses. “It’s the first thing on my mind, is all. Just the first. That I miss from home. Don’t laugh.” The woman knows he will not, and yet fear necessitates this verbal ritual, this disclaimer. She knows how he would answer, that any little thing that keeps her alive is worthwhile.

“I like...cotton candy. I like how puffy it is.” She pushes back shame for not praising things of grander value to the universe, as her own existence is so very small, and its buds deserve to be nurtured by the only one who can garden for it. “I like that it’s soft. That it can be pink. Or blue. Or yellow. It’s always so pretty. It’s like a cloud from your dreams.”

Itachi’s hushed voice betrays wonder. “...I’ve never heard of such a thing.” His receptiveness puts heavy shoulders a little more at ease, setting her burden a little more upon the ground.

“It isn’t...a sophisticated taste. It’s just sugar. But it’s whipped so, so fast...that it’s like silk. It’s like spiderwebs. And then as soon as it’s in your mouth...it melts so fast that it’s gone.” She holds back an ironic comment on how this could be like other forms of joyousness, but that’d be rude to him.

“I like…” She purposefully selects something alongside her grievances with an infinitely connected world. “...Pictures of cats. Where I come from, it’s so easy to share things. To show things. And so much of it was dedicated to just showing how silly or happy or cute your cat was.” Her smile widens, sweet as the sugar clouds he can only imagine. “I love cats.” Love. That’s progress in his purview; he didn’t even have to press for such emotion. “Do you like cats?” All of a sudden, she’s looking at him, and her eyes are as bright as the morning they searched for the piano standing in front of the pair. “I like all of them, but I really like orange cats.”

And suddenly, something clicks.

He sees it now. A part of her, deep inside, is so very, very small. She sheltered it so much from the suffering in her skin and bones that this piece of her soul will never quite grow all the way up. The magician takes her question very, very seriously.

“...The brown ones. With soft tones and darker points.”

“Siamese!”

And then it happens. She laughs. She laughs unhindered and out loud and without guilt. Itachi sees something familiar, and he remembers that this is what it means to be alive. This is what peace can be...

...Is, before him, for him, now.

This is how the rest of a lazy summer day passes by. Much to the ease of Kisame's mind, he finds the woman enraptured in joy and stories and so many- many- flutters of excited hands. Part of him is so goddamn relieved he didn’t fuck up so badly that rainy night prior that he sucked all the hope out of her precious bleeding heart… But also part of him didn’t know she had this kind of energy in her, that this kind of behavior was beaten out of her with no return. So after brief surprise, it returns to grateful ease. What is it with Itachi and women…?

...No, it isn’t worth framing like this so simply, Kisame surmises, seeing the way black eyes soften with her reflection in them. So even Uchiha can feel love...

Tentatively, with the guide of a red-ringed hand, the traveler gets some help passing barefoot past the road of coals and thorns and on the way to some sort of freedom, as much as can be found in a situation with no choices. The new man is greeted warmly as he enters.

“What’s all this about?” Kisame joins in, pulling up the chair to join one old friend and one new. Bashfully, the woman releases her grasp from Itachi’s— the hold unseen by the swordsman in the first place— and presses her reddened fingertips together. “I’ve been thinking about things that cheer me up. What do you like?” she invites so quickly it takes him off guard.

The taller man looks up to his partner and either receives the permission he is seeking or does not in those dark eyes. With hesitation, as if he could make her cry with just a word, Kisame engages the childish quandary, putting his true, bandaged favorite that's normally strapped to his back in temporary second place.

“Well…” he begins with a scratch of his chin, worried it won’t be up to par with whatever preceded him, “...I quite like seafood.”

“Seafood?!”

At first he’s afraid, she’s so much louder than he’s ever heard her, but those are stars in her eyes as she jumps up.

“I love seafood!”

With slow acceptance, the blue man raises a brow and one side of his mouth. “...Is that so…?” She nods, eagerly, and so it’s impossible to hold back a chuckle. “Then we’ll make a date of it, princess.”

“Oh my gosh!” Two fists pump the air, the woman’s expression as determined as one can be over fish. “Yes! Next time! Next time we’re out!” She turns to Itachi, just a notch quieter. “...Next time we’re out?” As if he’d do anything else, he pauses before giving his own quiet nod. “Yes!”

The shadows change shape over the hours, and the three silhouettes are now in color with it so dark outside. Normally such a figure in triple-headed shape alone would be more akin to a hydra, what with 2/3 being some of the most feared men in all of humankind, but the third makes their picture mean something else entirely. Unknown, what other analogy there could be for something with three faces, but it is remarkably more sweet.

“—And you can use it to watch videos!”

“Hm? Videos?”

“Like movies! Wait, do you have movies? Films?”

“Of course we have films, we aren’t cavemen!” Though Kisame doesn’t know her movies have sound and color.

“Okay, so it’s like a film, but it’s shorter— no, it can be as long. Or longer! But it’s usually pretty short. And you can say whatever you want in them, or do whatever you want!”

“Sounds trite.”

“It is! It was awesome. I liked one channel who talked about his farm—”

“Channel?”

“Yeah, where you would post your videos!”

“Post? Hold on, princess, I thought this wasn’t a physical place. How can you post on anything that’s not, say...a billboard? A pole?”

“That’s just the word for it, Kisame, I didn’t pick it!”

“How unusual…”

Itachi watches the two banter as she tries to paint them a picture, a mere sketch in the corner of a massive masterpiece that is an entirely separate manner of existence. For someone who hated it so much, these details still make her bubble with glee, grin like it’ll all be just fine. But then it grows late, and as the moon rises, so does the dreamer’s hand to suppress a yawn. Kisame offers her a hand, though she takes before understanding his purpose.

“We’ve kept the songbird up for so long that she lost her voice!” he teases, and even though she comprehends this tone, she still shakes her head in refusal.

“No, I haven’t lost it yet. Just one last thing. One more—”

It doesn’t have to be perfect. It doesn’t have to be complete. But it can be something else.

“Itachi?”

The dying man returns her gaze. She does not flinch at his coal-black eyes.

“Help me with something?” Even as she requests, her hand is already taking his again, and an angel guides two fingers to make one chord on the piano, pressing for him in multiple lengths.

Dmmmm… Dm. Dm. D-d-dm.

“Just like that,” she explains. “Every so often, when it feels right. That’ll be a big help for this song.”

Having slumped onto the floor somewhere in the past couple subjects, she outstretches her fingers for Kisame’s hand again, signifying she’s ready finally for his aid, and she’s lifted off the ground. Once the wrinkles upon the lap of her dress are pressed off, the woman returns one again at the bench, Itachi having not moved from it. Their sides touch again. He’s numb to the thorns. The scent of rose is intoxicating, dizzying in its contrarian, painful innocence, and he notes to be wary of it in the long times to come.

“I’m going to sing for you guys.” Confident as the statement is, the next one makes it waiver: “...If that’s okay.” But she knows it’s okay, so she does not wait. An inhale winds up her nose and an exhale shoves out fear clinging to her throat. Two wrists raise and press the keys, once they pulled down her lenses so she can view her situation with rose-tinted glasses. Unspoken questions ruminate, fuel the engine of her soul:

Can we be friends?

But what if it doesn’t last?

Does it matter?

So she sings:

Only in my darkest moments can I see the light

I think I'm prone to getting blinded when it's bright

She sighs melodically, to her new rhythm, as she tries to describe to them what it’s like to want to hurt, to ache, to die, when things are getting better.

Well, this December, I'll remember

Want you to see it when I do

Oh, oh, oh

God knows I do

Suffering makes you doubt joy, joy makes you doubt that you’ve suffered. Both are veracity of being alive, and yet so easily they can be swayed to the benefit of the negative. Guilt for allowing yourself happiness: it’s something these men know, too. They need little explanation. The passiveness, as if existence is merely erosion of the self instead of the building of your mountain, your accumulation of many, great, little things. It's a form of self-harm. Itachi is perfect in his role; he knows just when to add in his given chord and give her strength.

I'm alright if you're alright

I'm okay if you're okay

It's this state, in this state I'm living in

It's just a little bit, it's just a bit

Maybe, this December, I'll remember

Want you to see it when I do

Oh, oh, oh

God knows I do

The ghost will ride joy out as long as it lasts. Maybe someday, Itachi will see how cotton candy compares to dango. Kisame tries in vain not to have this moment change him forever, for the better. Heaven doesn’t need to pass away just yet. And then as the song fades and it’s time to retire for the evening, single words between the three make each other a promise:

Goodnight.

We will all still wake up for each other in the morning.

#akatsuki x reader #aswtn fic #songfic #itachi x reader #kisame x reader #i had...a lot of trouble writing this one. i had a completely different chapter and decided while im happy its out of my system #it is not what i wanted in the story. part of why there's a gap of time on my part between this one and the last #but i like how it ended up :)

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xxwhiskeyxx · 2 years

Text

Love Trope February! Best Friends Sibling: Alpha x Chubby! Reader

When Omega had been summoned, unexpectedly another ghoul appeared alongside him, it turned out to be his younger sibling (Y/N), another Quintessinal ghoul. Cue it being 10 years later, Alpha and Omega are best friends and is in love with his besties little sibling who is also in love with him. Of course, neither of them knows that but there is a plot afoot. A game of Truth or Dare may end in finally getting the pair together.

3.8k Words (possibly the shortest fic I have made yet)

GN Reader but they are chubby and got an ass and hips like their brother

Decided to use Alpha cause big boy doesn't get much love except people making him a villain or mean, big man deserves some loves!

- Love Whiskey

Sometime in 2006

When Omega had been summoned, unexpectedly another ghoul appeared alongside him. Now it’s not uncommon for there to be a double summoning if two ghouls happen to be next to each other or have a deep connection, so when a smaller ghoul appeared next to the much larger one, Primo and Sister just looked at each other, hoping the smaller is also a Quintessinal. “Hello, young ones, welcome to the Ministry. You have been summoned to assist in the spreading of our Dark Lord’s word, I am Papa Emeritus, I will allow you two to get settled and adjusted to the top layer before assigning your tasks. Alpha, Water, come and help our new additions.” Primo says, gesturing for a large ghoul in a mask to come forward.

Unsurprisingly the newly summoned did not react pleasantly, but what was unexpected was that it was the little one who jumped over in front the larger and snarled at the large ghoul, “Syat hte fukc awya!” (stay the fuck away!) the little ghoul hissed, Alpha bristles with returned snarl before Water grabs his arm. “Easy, they’re scared, you were the same when first summoned remember Wildfire?” Making the Fire ghoul scoff but back up, crossing his arms over his chest, shaking his head

Water nods before slowly approaching, baring his throat and holding his hands up in a sign of peace, “Wel dnto maEn ayn hram ew jsut wnta ot hepl, od uyo sepak gnileish?” (We don’t mean any harm; we just want to help. Do you speak any English?) Water speaks softly as he kneels near the pair, not wanting to spook them. The larger built ghoul gently places a hand on the smaller shoulder as he rises to a knee, “Yes, we do. Forgive my sibling; they aren’t privy to strangers and tends to be quite protective. I am Omega, and this is (Y/N); we’re both Quintessinal ghouls.” Omega says, helping his sibling to their feet. Water nods as he offers a blanket to the naked pair; they tend to bring extras in instance that there is a double summoning such, to which (Y/N) eyes warily before accepting once their brother wraps it around himself.

That day, Omega and (Y/N) become part of the Ministry; Omega becoming the beloved rhythm guitarist for Terzo, who always seemed to have a soft spot for the large male even before they wed on stage together, while (Y/N) became an aid to the band, absolutely refusing to separate from their brother during long tour legs, and where they quickly caught onto the guitar, piano, and bass. This is how they became their brother’s and Water’s guitar techs, assisting ChAir if they had an issue, zooming backstage to ensure everything is set and tuned for every Ritual.

It is now 2016, it had been 10 years at this point since their summoning, now incredibly close with everyone in the band, even the grouchy Fire ghoul Alpha, who had quickly became their brother’s best friend. But something they kept hidden from the hot-headed ghoul is that they had grown to love him, even suspecting him to be their destined mate, but with how he treated them as a little sibling like Omega does, they just pushed away the feelings.

‘(Y/N)! My string snapped, please I need my backup!’ Water cries through the mental link; having formed a pack with the other band members allowing them to communicate telepathically, ‘Oh you couldn’t wait another 30 minutes to see little ole me?’ (Y/N) teases, grabbing the white bass from its case and subtly slipping onto the stage, quickly swapping with Water within a slight break in the middle of He is. ‘Thankfully the Ritual is almost over’ they think as they slip back off the stage, not noticing a certain lead guitarist staring at them from his spot near Terzo.

A few songs later, the band line up for their final bows before coming backstage to pack up and get ready for the long next few days as they made their way to the next venue a state over.

“Thanks little star, you saved my ass. It just had to snap right before the show ended.” Water grins, ruffling (Y/N)’s hair. The Quintessential ghoul was quite small for their element though, they held the curvy, full-figured stature that is known for Quints, standing over a foot shorter than their brother and Alpha, half a foot with ChAir and Water; Little Earth, or Pebble as the little quint called them, and (Y/N) were only a couple inches apart, the pair having bonded over them being runts of their elements. “You know I hate that name, you water nymph, but your welcome” (Y/N) says, batting off the bassist’s hands, “Oh come on, you love it starshine, admit it. Almost as much as you lo-” Water is cut off by the small hand slapping over his mouth and a hissed, “Shut the fuck up you brastd !” (bastard). “I only told you that because I was drunk, do not say it with him this close. We both know he doesn’t see me like that and I don’t wanna ruin things.” they say, dropping their hand.

Water gives them a sad look, “Starshine, I’ve told you that hot head is head over claws for you. I don’t know how you don’t see that pitiful kicked puppy look he gets whenever you don’t sit next to him and how l he glares daggers at Pebble when you two cuddle up with each other.” Water says as he passes his bass case off to a roadie before they start walking towards the green room. (Y/N) glances over to where their brother and Alpha are both flirting with a staff member, probably going to double team the poor girl, and all they can hope is to walk in on them again.

It’s not like they haven’t seen their brother or any of the other ghouls naked, ghouls aren’t ashamed by nudity like humans; but that doesn’t mean they want to see their brother and the person they have feelings for taking someone to Paris, shivering and gagging at the memory. “Water, I love that you always try to make me feel better, but I know that he doesn’t see me like that. Plus I’m pretty sure that Omega threatened to declaw him if he ever tried to approach me.”(Y/N) half-heartedly jokes, staring sadly as the giggling techie is pulled off by their brother towards wherever the nearest empty room is, followed closely by grinning Alpha.

Water rolls his eyes as he sees the scene, the dumbass Fire ghoul had personally threatened him that if he catches him trying anything with the small Quintessence ghoul, he’d personally burn all his books and bed; along with the fact he cannot count the number of times Omega had complained to him about how Alpha is always rambling on and on about how perfect he thinks (Y/N) is while drunk or stoned out of his mind. But he also knows his dumbass pack mate is trying to fuck away his feelings because he’s convinced he shouldn’t have feelings for his best friend’s sibling, that its wrong and he’s scared of ruining their friendship if it ever came out.

(Y/N) is rambling on now about some new movie they wanna see soon as Water tunes back in, changing into his street clothes, a hooded sweatshirt and some jeans, “Do you think we can watch it later? Or do you think the other’s are gonna wanna play uno or something later?” (Y/N)’s voice breaks through his thoughts, “Huh? Oh yeah, I mean we can always watch it tomorrow if we can’t tonight, we’re on the road for the next 3 days remember. I’ll make that special candy popcorn you like, with that chocolate shit.” Water says as he turns back to the little ghoul sitting on the couch who squeals happily, “Thank you! You ready to head back now or Do you think the horny duo will be done soon, I just got t-”

(Y/N) is cut off by the door slamming open and a seethed Alpha storming in, followed by a silent but equally pissed Omega, “Stupid slut, couldn’t keep her fucking mouth shut! I can’t believe she fucking thought she could say that and we’d want to stay!” Alpha snarls, throwing his mask harshly onto the couch. The siblings make eye contact, ‘What the fuck happened?’ the younger asks, an equally concerned Water stands nearby, ready to calm the pissed off Fire ghoul at a moments notice.

‘That staff member that had been flirting with us and we pulled away? Yeah she made a very offensive comment about you while we were trying to get underdressed, pissed Alpha and I off, then had to gall to get mad when we stopped and left.’ Omega says, voice barely above a growl, ‘What was it? I don’t care how rude it was, I’m used to it, Mega, you know this.’ the small ghoul says, debating on if they need to go calm the raging Fire ghoul, who is currently snarling out every curse word in both infernal and english he can think of.

‘Little star, it was very harsh…but basically she made a disgusting comment about your weight and how she thinks you’re a ‘desperate fat cow who hangs around guys they could never get’ having clearly not realizing you were my sibling and that we care for you a lot more than some loose cunt.’ their brother’s eyes pitching in anger. (Y/N) sits there shocked, they couldn’t believe some stupid human would say that about someone who was clearly close to the band, the comment didn’t hurt because their so used to worse comments back at the Abbey and the pit but “Desperate cow who hangs around guys they could never get” rings in the back of their head, but they shake it off.

Deciding that they have to call their friend before he kills somebody, (Y/N) stands and slowly starts toward him, “Alpha, look at me please.” His head snaps towards them, normally warm sunset colored eyes now dangerously flickering like the blazing Sun, “You gotta calm down, who cares what some stupid human thinks, I know I don’t. It’s okay, we can just forget it.” they keep their voice soft, carefully stepping closer to the seething guitarist, the room near boiling from his anger, “It isn’t fucking okay, (Y/N)! What she said is fucking disgusting, that cunt is satan blessed lucky that Papa doesn’t allow us to hurt humans or they would’ve had to scrub that bitch off the fucking walls!” he yells, shaking in anger as he stands with his arms crossed over his chest.

What that techie had said had pissed off Alpha to no end, that pathetic meat sack insulted the sweetest, most beautiful ghoul he had ever set his eyes on. It doesn’t matter if he can’t tell them about his feelings, it won’t stop him from protecting them from any type of cruelty. Omega had to physically drag him away from the girl before he almost slammed her through the wall as soon as the words left her lips.

(Y/N) puts their hands on his arms, pushing calming Quintessence into the angry male in hopes of helping calm him faster, “Alpha, I promise it’s fine, I appreciate you defending me, but it’s not the first and definitely not the last time someone will make some dumbass comment about me, I’m used to it. I don’t give a single shit what anyone outside of our pack or Papa thinks, you’re the only ones whose opinions matter to me. Stupid bitch is probably mad I got a fatter ass than she does.” they snicker as they feel him start to calm, “Now please calm the fuck down, Fire Boy, your roasting us alive. As much as I love being reminded of the Pit, I don’t think Papa will appreciate having to explain why the green room feels like a volcano.” they tease. Alpha finally realizes just how hot the room is, Water having had to leave a few minutes ago so he didn’t dehydrate, actively tries to lower his body temperature.

Giving a defeated sigh, “I know, half-pint, but I ain’t gonna let some human disrespect my favorite Quint, sorry Meg,” he shoots a grin at his friend, “best believe I’ll beat any ass that says anything rude about you.” the large ghoul says, knocking his, now unglamored, horns against the shorter’s, “Thanks high-rise, your the best Fire ghoul I know, now hurry the fuck up and get changed so we can get back on the bus. I wanna watch this cool movie or play something, I don’t care which!” they say, hugging the now much cooler ghoul before turning and leaving.

Omega shoots a shit-eating grin and wiggles his eyebrows at his friend, “Oh, your the best Fire ghoul they know,” doing a terribly mimicry of his sibling’s voice before he snorts, “I wonder how that new Fire ghoul we just summoned would like to hear that, he’s been following after them like a lost puppy since they helped him after his summoning. What’s his name, Ifrit?” Omega teases as he moves to get changed, barely dodging when Alpha swats at him with his tail.

“Shut the fuck up! Don’t mention that little shit, I hate how he keeps staring at them all the time, it gives me the creeps.” Alpha hisses as he tugs a shirt over his head. “Oh you’re just jealous, you gotta make a move eventually dude. They’re going to find someone else if you don’t, in fact Ifrit had asked me if I thought he has a chance with them just before we left.” Omega say’s nonchalantly, waiting near the door for his friend, already dressed.

Alpha whips around, boots left untied, “Your fucking kidding, that little fucker! They’re mine, I thought I made that fucking clear!” he hisses but shrinks back when the large Quint gives him a steely look, “(Y/N) isn’t ‘yours’. You haven’t placed a claim, fuck Alpha, you haven’t even told them how your dumbass feels! Just because you constantly scent them doesn’t mean anything, they smell equally of Pebble, ChAir, Water, and me; in fact I think Water’s scent is even stronger than yours.” Omega says, a teasing edge to the last sentence. Alpha’s eye twitches before pulling the helmet on with a huff, “Fuck off, lets get going before Terzo leaves us again.” he grunts, dragging a cackling Omega out of the venue and towards the tour bus.

Once on board they find (Y/N) and a tipsy Water sitting on the floor in front of Little Earth and buzzed Zephyr on the couch, apparently some drinking game with a bottle of whiskey and rum off to the side.

“Hey! So we decided to watch the movie tomorrow so Water suggested Truth or Dare, wanna join?” (Y/N) says, scooching to make room for the two new arrivals, who each take a spot. Omega on the couch with Zephyr, who had almost immediately dove into his lap, and Alpha next to the small Quintessinal ghoul. A few rounds pass, Omega starting to join Water and Zephyr’s buzz as (Y/N) and Earth hurled ruthless dares and truths at him (one of which was suck off Secondo or Terzo, to which he almost downed half the bottle with a huge blush) and it is now Water’s turn once again, who turns to the smallest of the group.

“(Y/N), truth or dare?” he slurs, leaning back on his arms. They think for a minute before answering, “Dare, I’m not scared of you.” they say with a smirk, a slight blush from the alcohol filling their cheeks, their not drunk but it warms their belly, “Oh your gonna regret that little star, we’ve moved into hard mode, no more passes! I dare you toooo.” Water says, looking around the room before his gaze lands on Alpha and a menacing grin fills his face, “Make Alpha make a pretty sound for us.” he grins.

Both immeditaly tense and flush, awkwardly glancing at each other. “Pass” they quickly reach for the bottle but Water smacks their hand, “No more passes remember, gotta do it or you have to do as I say for a week!” he cackles, falling onto his side. (Y/N) glares at him, hating that they made that bet earlier, “Fuck you Water, fine.” they huff before turning to the flushed Fire ghoul who stares at them with wide eyes, ‘You really don’t have to, I can fa-’ he offers, eyes looking everywhere but the curvy ghoul.

But before he can finish his sentence, they’re straddling his lap, planting themselves directly on his crotch, “Where’s the fun in that, plus Water will know.” they purr in his ear, the alcohol making them feel quite bold despite the blush covering their cheeks.

All eyes are now on the pair, which (Y/N) ignores as they look over the handsome man, they had heard from their brother that Alpha’s neck is quite sensitive, “Best friends can fuck each other, cant always help who you go into heat with, little star.” he had teased.

Smirking at the memory as they slowly lean forward, enjoying when they hear how his breath hitches as their warm breath teases his throat, before latching onto his pulse point. The sudden rush of stimulation causes a loud reedy whine to escape the Fire ghoul as his hands fly up to grip their wide hips while (Y/N) proceeds to suck a hickey into his red and orange cracked skin. His eyes screwing shut as pleasure courses through his veins, unable to help how he buck’s up into them.

They finally pull away with a pleased look, admiring the dark bruise prominent against the pale skin of the Fire ghoul’s throat, before they purr a soft “Good boy~” into his ear, nipping at the point of it just to fuck with him.

The small ghoul goes to move off his lap, but his grip tightens, making them look back at Alpha to find that his eyes blown wide. “Can we talk outside, please..” he asks softly, it almost sounds like a plea with how desprete he looks. “Uh sure, continue without us.” they say, getting up once Alpha’s grip loosened, now nervous they crossed the line and he’s going to call them disgusting or say to pretend it never happened.

Following the older ghoul outside the bus, snagging their hoodie since it’s cold. They play with their ring in anxiety, the ring Alpha got them soon after they were summoned when he noticed how they picked at their fingers whenever they were nervous or deep in thought, “Here twerp, got this so you can stop fucking up your fingers. Can’t play if your fingers are torn up.” he had said after he tossed the small pouch at them, it had a small star and moon design on the metal piece that spun around the base.

Alpha stands faced away from them, hands pressed to his head as if he’s trying to think of what to say. After a few minutes of silence, (Y/N) decides it’d probably be easier to apologize in case he truly was upset, “I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable…we can just pretend that it never happened, the other idiots are probably too fucked up to remember. I hope this doesn’t ruin anything Alpha…I know you only see me as a little sibling.” they say, looking down at the ground in shame.

Alpha stays silent for a few more moments, and that honestly scares them more than if he was visibly angry, before they hear a quiet, “Fuck it.” When suddenly there’s warm hands cupping their cheeks and even warmer lips pressed against theirs.

The kiss is the most desperate, yet gentle and loving, they had ever experiences in their life, the larger clinging to them as if afraid that they will disappear if he lets go for even a moment. The young Quint is frozen for a moment before attempting to wrap their arms around the tallers neck when he suddenly pulls away.

Alpha is shaking as those sunset eyes dart around their face “I..have wanted to do that for so fucking long, Starshine. I don’t see you as a damn younger sibling…you mean so much more than that. To me, you are the most beautiful, sweetest, intelligent , stubborn thing I have ever met and I love you so fucking much” his voice cracking slightly as his emotions pour out, “That’s why I was so pissed off earlier, someone insulted the one I love more than anything in this satan damned universe…I was a dick for flirting with them in front of you. I never should have even looked at another person when you were around, I just…I was convinced you didn’t want me the same way I did you. You didn’t deserve that…” he takes a deep shuddering breath.

(Y/N looks confused, “You..love me? Your not just saying that to fuck with me? Because if you are, I will fucking chop your dick off and I’m pretty sure Omega and Water will do even worse.” they stutter, hands coming up to cup the warm cheeks of the Fire ghoul.

Their words make him chuckle, “I never would do that to you, I may be an asshole but I’m not cruel like that” leaning into their touch, “I have loved you since that day I walked in on you dancing to stupid human music while doing the dishes, maybe even before then. I adore ever single thing about you: your caring nature, how you always are willing to help anyone you think needs it” a dopey grin spreads across his face, “Not to mention your confidence and skill, along with the fact you don’t give a shit what anyone thinks, had just made me want you more. I wanna both kill and kiss Water for giving me the chance to tell you, not to mention your brother basically told me grow a fucking pair.” he slowly trails off, sunset eyes searching (e/c). “(Y/N)…Do you…it’s okay if you don’t…” he whispers.

Gently stroking his cheek with a dopey lovesick smile, “I love you too, you big idiot. I was convinced you saw me as nothing other than Omega’s little sibling, I..can’t believe this is happening. This has to be a dream, I drank too much and I’m passed out on the floor.” they giggle. “I promise you half-pint, this is real. Here, Lemme prove it.” is all Alpha says before reconnecting their lips, pressing them back against the cool metal of the bus.

This kiss is slightly different from the last, it is still filled with love, but this one has a hint of neediness and a possessive edge. (Y/N) whines into the kiss when it he warm hands move down from their cheeks, squeezing their hip with one hand as he presses them tightly against him. The Quint opens their mouth first, nipping at the Fire ghoul’s bottom lip in a silent ask for access to which he easily grants. Moaning softly as they begin mapping out the other’s mouths while clinging to each other, hands starting to explore wherever they can reach.

Eventually (Y/N) pulls away for a moment to catch their breath, but Alpha takes it as an opportunity to start making his way down their neck, mouthing and nipping as he making his way towards his target. A breathy moan escapes their lips as he sucks his own mark into their neck, sharp claws digging into broad shoulders and when he bites down.

Once satisfied, Alpha pulls away with a smirk, pressing another kiss to their lips when the door bursts opens and Omega leans out with a drunken smirk, “Fucking finally, now as happy as I am for you two, I’d appreciate if you didn’t fuck my baby sibling in the parking lot while it’s 36 degrees out.” he slurs,

(Y/N) whines in embarrassment and hides their face in Alpha’s chest as he laughs, “You heard the man, I think I would rather fuck you in a warm bunk than cold metal for our first time, we can test out other settings at a later date~” he nips their ear, earning a squeak and then a yelp as he tosses them over a broad shoulder, hand on their ass.

“Put me down you asshole, I can walk perfectly fine!” they shriek, pounding on Alpha’s back, “For now, my little minx~” he teases as he walks past a cackling Water and Earth, both of who are catcalling the pair while Omega sits back down, drawing a passout of Zephyr into his lap, smirking after the new couple.

He had been routing for his best friend and sibling for years, having been so close to shoving the pair in a closet, saying “Seven Minutes in Heaven, they love you, he loves you, have fun and don’t make any kits yet!” but Zephyr had given the idea of using Truth or Dare that night to make it happen instead. Now they debate on leaving the bus for food, deciding quickly when a loud possessive growl rumbles from the bunk area followed by a high-pitched whine

There’s a moment of silence before “Denny’s?” Earth offers, “Hell yeah, I’ll just carry Zephyr.” Omega says, everyone yanking on their shoes. They eventually return a few hours later, doggy bags for the new couple to find a pair of happily purring Fire and Quintessence ghouls, partially naked minus the smaller wearing their new boyfriend’s hoodie and Alpha in boxers, wrapped up and asleep on the couch

#alpha ghoul x reader #alpha ghoul x chubby! reader #alpha ghoul #omega ghoul #terzo emeritus #ChAir ghoul #little earth ghoul #Water ghoul #Era 3 ghouls #whiskey's burbling barrel #love trope febraury #best friends sibling #whiskey shouldn't be trusted with power

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theseshipsshallsail · 1 year

Text

So, I wrote a little thing for Fall in Love with Charmie.

Dedicated to @tandaforever for organising this little fest, and @valgal78 for making me aware of it.

Prompts are CMBYN promo era - hurt/comfort - the sweater of love. (Though lets be honest, this all stemmed from one particular line like usual) 🧿❤️

No sweaters were harmed in the making of this fic, and all🦎go unmentioned and irrelevant as they should be.

UNDER AND OVER (AND EVERYTHING IN-BETWEEN)

There’s a low, droning vibration stemming from the walnut coffee table; his mobile, he assumes, long-since ignored within the pocket of his discarded jeans. A lone sock dangles accusingly from the overhead light fitting: a fate reminiscent of the boxers draped over the dresser mirror. Some might be shocked, he’ll admit, at his lack of designer deference, but Armie’s tracksuit is likewise abandoned on the hotel carpet, and Tim…

…well.

Tim couldn’t care less for wrinkled McQueens when the other man’s clutching his naked waist like his life depends on it.

When the telltale creaks of the king size mattress are all but smothered by the hiccupped moans spilling from his desert-dry lips.

When the searing heat gathered at the base of his spine is a fail-safe indicator he’s about to come untouched: the relentless drag of Armie’s cock against his screaming prostate making his balls draw tight in preparation.

And perhaps he says some of that out loud, because Armie surges upright with a shaky nod, a mottled flush extending from his hairline to his beautifully bare chest as he crushes their mouths together. Tongue delving rough and possessive: claiming him twice over.

It’s been weeks since the promo ended. Since they were on the same continent, let alone the same bed. Tim needs him like he needs his next breath - crazy as the thought may be - and starved of such contact by dint of their hectic schedules, a limited diet of filthy text messages and late night video calls only served to fan the flames.

The connection they forged that dreamlike summer refuses to fade. They’d both fallen irrevocably. Hard and heedless: regardless of the pain. But here and now there’s nothing to stand between them. Nothing else beyond the suite’s four walls. Tim’s entire world hinges on the salty tang of Armie’s collarbone - the scratchy stubble tickling his temple - the dizzying rush of blood hurtling through his quicksilver veins, and for all that he finds himself drowning in the intimacy, it doesn’t stop him from craving more.

It never does.

Never will.

That said, an actor’s life is one of flexibility: adapting to the changing tides. Inspiration strikes in a blink, and flashing a salacious grin he reaches behind him, snagging the soft grey sweater he’d stripped from Armie’s body not twenty minutes earlier; sighing in bone-deep contentment when the lingering scent of herbal shampoo and expensive cologne envelopes his arms and torso in a familiar, woollen embrace.

Saccharine, maybe, but when Armie burst in on a routine piano lesson - drawing him into a love unforeseen - the quirks and insecurities he’d spent years repressing soon became free.

Accepted.

Wanted and explored.

Half the pleasure is knowing what this does to you. Knowing you like seeing what it does to me, Armie told him once, drunk on the build moreso than the wine, so it’s no surprise when his partner simply smirks in return, brows knit in fond amusement as he nuzzles the droopy collar.

“Don’t think I’m complaining,” he murmurs, the raw urgency of before notably absent. “But what happened to pants off, Hammer: no clothes ‘till Thursday?”

He has a point. A damned good one, at that. Yet -

“I want to feel you surround me, even when you’re inside me,” Tim replies, leaning forward to kiss him for all the times he couldn’t. “I want to smell you on my skin, even when we’re apart...”

“Fuck…”

“You’re mine,” Tim says, wrapping the sweater’s cuff around his sensitive glans. “And I’m yours,” he declares, smearing it with the sticky pearls.

Armie’s eyes grow glassy as he realises his intent, and keeping him pinned by cock and stare alike, Tim proceeds to pick up the pace; leaving him in no doubt that sooner or later, the rest of the world will know it too.

#Fall in love with charmie #timothée chalamet #armie hammer #charmie fic #don't like don't read

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phanfictioncatalogue · 8 months

Text

Fics With the Same Title (5) Masterlist

part one, part two, part three, part four

Appreciation - placingglaciers

Summary: In which Dan is the town’s successful, wealthy, irritable, but lonely, mortician and Phil is his gardener who has to deal with his bad day from work the best way he can.

Appreciation (ao3) - epsilonfive

Summary: "Shut up," Phil says, not looking away from the screen. "I have an actual week of stuff to sort through, and unless you want to take over, I'll just--" Phil stops short as he comes to a point in the footage where his ass is center view.

"Uhhh," Dan begins, wetting his lips as his cheeks heat up a little. "I can explain that, actually,"

"Mmhm,"

Blue - washedoutgay

Summary: based off this song. ‘You were red and you liked me because I was blue.’ Dan is an artist who sees people as colours and Phil needs money.

Blue (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: He needs to leave the table for a bit and calm himself down, this often happens on dates or crowded places. He excuses himself and goes to find the bathroom. He walks into the male toilets and is met with a sight that he hasn't seen before.

Someone bending over in purple lace panties.

Blue (ao3) - killingaesthetic

Summary: Dan hasn't been able to see the color blue for his entire life. Nobody can see the color of their soulmate's eyes until they and their soulmate touch. Dan has been longing to see the sky and the ocean, but he never really expects it to happen. But then he meets a boy who changes his entire world.

Butterflies and Hurricanes - phillestatos

Summary: Phil Lester, also known as AmazingPhil, ends up falling for the cute piano player who likes to play Muse on his recitals, even when he kept telling himself it would never happen. youtuber!Phil/pianoplayer!Dan

Butterflies and Hurricanes (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan Howell is head over heels for the endearingly strange boy with eyes like the ocean.

(Or: a small piece I wrote to get some 2009 Phan feelings out of my system. Read with caution - this is pure fluff.)

Butterflies and Hurricanes (ao3) - Rhensis

Summary: "You’ll never beat me. I’m best at moaning, I’m used to it. After all, I’m such a bad little cockslut, aren’t I? Come on, Phil, fuck me, fuck me so hard I can’t walk home," Dan turns around, just in time for Phil’s lips to be placed against his own, taking him by surprise. He feels someone pull his fingers out of himself, and Phil replaces them with his own, adding a third just to make sure that Dan isn’t hurt.

"I want," Dan starts, interrupting himself with a moan, "to ride you,"

"Oh, fuck,"

Fortune Cookies (ao3) - kae_karo

Summary: Dan gets a fortune cookie and it's been bugging him all day. But he's NOT superstitious.

fortune cookies (ao3) - oqua

Summary: Dan goes with Phil to celebrate Father's Day with the Lesters, and suddenly all his complicated feelings about his own parents come bubbling to the surface.

Basically 11k words of Dan being angsty and the Lesters being wonderful.

Not so Far Away (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan isn't okay, he hasn't been for a while. He's depressed and self-harming and he just can't be what his family wants him to be. Everything is shit until he sees a weirdly intriguing boy on Youtube. What happens when they finally meet?

Not everything can be perfect, it never will be, but that doesn't mean it can't be okay.

Set to begin around 2009.

Not So Far Away (ao3) - enthuzimuzzy

Summary: Phil decides to go on a walk.

Panic - jilliancares

Summary: Dan has a panic attack at a party but Phil’s there to help.

Panic (ao3) - GuineverePendragon

Summary: While onstage at Vidcon, Dan suffers from a panic attack. Only Phil knows how to calm him down- except, Phil's across the venue doing a whole different panel.

pretty (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: When Dan first sees the photoshoot of Ezra Miller in Playboy he stares for hours (minutes? who knows what time is) before he can even really consciously shape any thoughts around it.

Pretty (ao3) - Emptylester (timelordangel)

Summary: Dan buys himself something pretty to wear, and Phil happens to walk in while he's wearing it.

pretty (ao3) - cityofphanchester

Summary: The boxes sit piled in a jumble in the corner of Dan’s closet for weeks. Phil starts getting notifications for them in the days after Nashville, alerts of purchases off the credit card they don’t use often and then the packages themselves, one by one at the door.

(little dresses and fishnet stockings, 2022)

Santa Baby - philipsenpai-fics

Summary: I wrote a Christmas smut fic! hope you all like it, yay i love Christmas :)

Santa Baby (ao3) - Spring_Haze

Summary: When Phil uncovers a real mess in the couple's Christmas decorations, he comes up with a sexual game to determine which one of them must deal with the mess. Phil challenges Dan to something impossible, but both men have fun trying to outwit and out-sex the other.

Stuck - dxnhowell

Summary: Dan becomes pregnant, and is desperate for a job. He needs money for the baby. Then, he gets a job at Phil’s company. It’s not the ideal job, but Dan’s desperate at this point.

Stuck (ao3) - xDeathMelodiesx

Summary: Dan gets stuck in his binder and Phil helps him get out of it.

stuck (ao3) - kae_karo

Summary: Phil supposes they're both prone to doing senseless things sometimes.

stuck (ao3) - watergator

Summary: prompt: “that’s starting to get annoying” & “good thing I didn’t ask for your opinion!”

Stuck (ao3) - regionalatbest

Summary: Phil gets his head stuck

Stuck (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Sensory overload gets the best of Dan on the tour bus in the middle of the night.

Stuck (ao3) - expiredlove

Summary: The story of Phil being hollered at by 20 women in Brighton.

Stuck On You - howthemoonsuitsthenightsky

Summary: When Dan wakes up one morning with a mark on the back of his head, the reason that he is in love with Phil is revealed. Dan thinks that he cannot cope with the betrayal, but somehow his mind always takes him back to Phil.

stuck on you (ao3) - watergator

Summary: dan finds himself in a rather awkward predicament and phil ends up having to helping him

Sunshine (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: a grumpy!dan and sunshine!phil fic in which dan totally doesn’t have a crush on phil. not at all

Sunshine (ao3) - metus_noctis

Summary: In which Phil is a bright ray of sunshine creeping through the windows of Dan's heart.

Sunshine (ao3) - thewakeless

Summary: Summer sex (with consequences)

the man of my dreams (ao3) - mel_m_a_o

Summary: He first dreamed about this man maybe two months ago. The dream wasn’t really something out of the ordinary and Dan didn’t really remember what it was about, but it stuck out to him, because he wasn’t usually someone who remembered his dreams. He often thought he just doesn’t dream at all, but that certainly changed. He keeps dreaming about the same pale, black haired man and his bright eyes that make Dan wake up in a sweat. He starts to see the face everywhere all the time until he actually does.

the man of my dreams (ao3) - animad

Summary: Just over a year ago, he’d started to get Dreams, nearly every night for two weeks. Dreams, discerned from dreams by one common factor, a factor that has dark hair and black rimmed glasses.

Three's Company (ao3) - sherlocks_watson

Summary: With that, Phil surged forward and crashed his lips onto Dan's, coaxing his mouth open. Carefully, Dan maneuvered so his head was now on the pillow and Phil hovered over him, violating his mouth with his tongue.

---

Set during VidCon 2016

Three's Company (ao3) - t_hens

Summary: 2009 expect Phil is dating Jimmy and wants to date Dan too.

Trapped - placingglaciers

Summary: In which Dan marries his best friend, Phil, and realizes he made the hugest mistake in his life during their wedding night.

Trapped (ao3) - Junebug1312

Summary: Phil's a superhero, Dan's a super villain. Neither play nicely.

Yellow - washedoutgay

Summary: Please stop picking flowers from my garden au/ Dan really likes yellow and his cat really likes Phil

Yellow (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: A new boy moved in next to him, his ex-girlfriend broke up with him, and school was starting back after the holidays. What makes it worse, is that the new boy is kind of cute and Dan’s straight.

yellow (ao3) - awrfdnp

Summary: “You’re my yellow, Phil.”

#phanfic #phanfictioncatalogue #phan #phanfiction #dan and phil #samefic #samefic masterlist

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sweetsubharry · 9 months

Note

hi do you have any ot5 harry-centric fics? xx

I have two you might like love! Unfortunately a lot of the ones I was following got discontinued so these are the only complete ones! These are very ot5 centric in a romantic way but if you mean friendship ot5 with a larry base lmk and I can give you more ;)

It takes a village by Karin1232

“Hey Harry, are you okay?” Mitch, Harry’s bassist asked as he looked at the younger boy who was holding onto the microphone stand with both of his hands, not really doing anything.

“Harry?”, Clare questioned as well as she walked over from where she was standing behind her piano. She quickly noticed that Harry was breathing quite fast even though he didn’t do anything else than standing here. His eyes were glazed over, fixed on the floor in front of him.

Clare gently placed her hand on Harry’s shoulder startling him slightly but pulling him out of his trance nevertheless.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said as he snapped out of his thoughts. “I just zoned out for a minute.”

the one where Harry is on his solo tour. He is depressed so One Direction teams up to make him feel better again.

Cause when I'm not with you I'm weaker by Karin1232

“It’s set then,” Nate told them, looking everyone in the eyes before continuing, “If you work hard and give 100 percent every single time it won’t even be that much!”

“Sure,” Niall scoffed, laughing.

“Niall,” Liam scolded his band mate, sounding a little bit like a father, making Niall roll his eyes.

“I mean it. This is ridiculous,” the blond boy argued. “Look at this,” he said, holding up the paper to prove his point. “We have like one free day every three weeks. I just don’t think that this will help any of us or Harry for the matter!”

OR the one where Harry has suffered from depression, One Direction is about to go on tour again and even though everyone is around he is still slipping through the cracks again

TRIGGER WARNING: Depression, Self-Harm, throwing up (Bulimia)

#ask lots #lottie fic rec #larry stylinson fanfiction #larry stylinson #harry #louis #ot5 #one direction #zianourry #fanfic #fic rec

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fang-and-feather · 2 years

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Ikemen Vampire - Mozart/OC

for Fluffbruary Day 7 - Prompt(s): routine by @fluffbruary and Be my Valentine 2.0 Prompt 14: "I didn't think it was possible to love someone this much." by @xxsycamore and @chaosangel767

Mozart always plays for his girlfriend when it is raining, but when she is so anxious their usual routine doesn't seem enough, he choses a song from her time to try and calm her down.

Fic's creation note: I wrote most of my fics listening to piano versions of Song of Storms and Zelda's Lullaby from Zelda Ocarina of Time. When it came to my IkeVamp fics, I couldn't take the image of Mozart being the one playing, so I ended up writing this.

AO3 Version / IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist / Next Chapter

When people said that size didn’t matter, they were usually referring to other people’s height. For Amy, though, the size of a place didn’t matter when it had a high chance of danger being around the corner, or when it was raining.

Amy actually loved rain. For a few hours, especially at night. Both the sound and scent of the rain were pleasant, good to read a good book or to sleep to. Wonderful weather for something warm and sweet too, and for listening to her boyfriend playing the piano - not that she wouldn’t do it at any other available time, but there was something different during rainy days.

But after about a week of nearly nonstop rain, Amy’s mind was filled with dreadful scenarios - most of them irrational, she always realized later - and she felt caged and in the suspense of awaiting an unknown enemy to jump at her as soon as she lowered her guard.

By the third day, she had been banned from work, for a number of small incidents involving the other residents, because she was both distracted and jumpy enough to turn anything into a mess that created more work for Sebastian than helped him, so she had taken to spend nearly all hours of the day by Mozart’s side.

Was she bothering him? Amy thought so occasionally, but she could make up to him later. His presence was calming for the next two days, his music soothing during the next one but, by the end of the week, the rain had grown into a storm and Amy felt more like it was the end of the world. It looked like the rain would never stop; like the sky would open up in a black hole and destroy everything, or like the wind would form a giant tornado…

If she was calm, Amy would have laughed at how these ideas were fit for plots for an apocalypse story. But the unknown enemy is often scarier than the one people already expected. That was how she kept her calm down through a lot of situations, by being steps ahead of any potential harm to her or the surrounding people.

Some things were impossible to predict, though, especially nature. Weather prediction wasn’t one hundred percent accurate, even in her original time. And, for reasons she couldn’t remember, Amy had always feared an unknown supernatural twist to things.

Considering her boyfriend was a vampire, why wouldn’t other unknown powers exist out there, while most normal people thought them myths? Like a mage that could control the weather, for example.

Why would any creature, or whatever it may be, be interested in attacking her, though? But logic didn’t chase the feeling of dread away.

Speaking of making it rain, the sound of a familiar song reached her in the middle of her own storm. A song that reminded her of the old days, in another place, another time. This was what she missed most of home, these little fictional worlds. Books were great, but Amy loved the feeling of interactivity of a game. Not that she would have traded her new life for anything.

Why did that single song calm her? Not because it reminded her of home, for sure. Part because she could recognize her boyfriend’s touch in this new arrangement, because he clearly had made it for her, a source of good nostalgia with a touch of her new home. Part because this particular song felt like it could be the source of the storm and the calm at the eye of the hurricane. It made her feel safe while the rest of the world raged. Trapped, yes, but more into a protective shield than into the only hiding place from a fast approaching disaster.

Amy closed her eyes, humming along, absorbing the sounds, letting them take her mind and her. They felt warm, like her boyfriend’s embrace. She wasn’t deserving of such a gift after she ended up ignoring him to drown in her own nightmares.

She would make sure to thank and make it up to him later.

Mozart observed his girlfriend as she approached the window with tense movements and sighed. She’d been pacing around for about an hour by then.

It was their routine on rainy days to spend the day together, most of it in the music room. The first time he’d noticed her anxiety, that she usually hid so well, Mozart had made her get a break from work and she told him about her anxiety.

Amy had these anxious reactions to any space she felt trapped in, and although she loved a few hours of rain, if it went for too long she felt shut off from the world, like being stranded on an island.

As she grew up, she had managed to lesser actual panic attacks with a mix of small distractions and a fight response when these were interrupted. Fight instead of flight response, behaviors she could give other excuses for as a defensive mechanism.

With him, though, she was quick to admit to these and let them go, and Mozart felt out that his presence, or, if she was too anxious or when she was working but could hear it, his music, were enough of a distraction to soothe her.

After a few days, though, Amy grew more and more paranoid about an irrational and unidentified danger. Her reactions to surprise had turned somewhat aggressive. Not on purpose, as she would quickly catch herself and apologize, not before nearly attacking some of the other residents, which resulted in Sebastian suspending her from the house chores.

That was for the best. Mozart would rather have his girlfriend by his side in these situations, back to their little routine. He would play the piano and Amy would sit by his side, reading. She only left to grab something to eat, coming back with warm coffee and some chocolates.

When the rain turned into a storm, though, Amy had started panicking. It was the first time he’d seen her in that state, and Mozart wasn’t sure what to do.

His current solution was music. Something that would evoke the right feelings. Something special for her.

Although Mozart had something he was sure would work, he chose to try a theory he’d been working on.

Amy had that song she said to be from her time that she was always humming on rainy days and sometimes played on her violin. She adjusted the rhythm to suit the rain’s mood, but Mozart himself quite liked the calmer version that he found fitting for most weathers and environments, and he had been composing a personal arrangement of the song.

A song just for the two of them that reminded her of home pleasantly.

Not long after the song started, Amy visibly relaxed, and she started humming along. She didn’t move from her spot by the window, but that was already an improvement. Soon her voice joined the song, serene and melodious, but hesitant, like she didn’t quite remember the words of the song, but they were fitting for the atmosphere.

Only after the song ended was that she turned to face him with a soft smile and walked up to the piano, sitting by his side.

“Sorry,” Amy said almost immediately.

That was the last thing Mozart expected her to say.

“What for?”

“You were worried about me and I ignoring you. Sometimes I can be such an idiot.”

“Yes, you can.” Amy pouted, giving him an indignated look. “But not for this, even if you kept giving ridiculous reasons to be afraid. Fear isn’t always something rational, or something you always understand.”

There was little Mozart did fear himself, but, even before they started dating, Amy had always supported him through these moments, sometimes even hiding that she was afraid, herself.

“Thank you.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “The song was beautiful, too.”

“Beautiful enough to calm you, it seems.”

“Well, that wasn’t just the music. It was because it was you playing. Because you took the time you had to make your own music to create something that was only for me, instead. And you could do it because you had been paying attention to me, to minor things you didn’t need to.”

“Of course I pay attention to you. You seem to get in trouble whenever I don’t.”

This time, Amy only shook her head and laughed.

“I’m not that helpless, but at least I know if I ever do get into trouble, you’ll know.”

Yes, Amy was more careful and independent than he was giving her credit for, but sometimes she didn’t seem so.

“Maybe. But you are more like yourself when you seem like I need to watch you.”

Amy blushed when he caressed her cheek, giving her a small smile.

“Then play for me one more time, please.”

Mozart gave her a soft kiss before turning his attention back to the piano, giving in to her request.

The song hadn’t ended when Amy leaned into him and soon was snoring light, signs that she was really tired.

Mozart stopped playing, both because she wasn’t listening and because the position made it difficult, and observed her.

Amy looked so soft and innocent when she was asleep, almost like she wasn’t real, but a dream.

“Of course I’ll always look after you, Meine Liebe, even when we both think I don’t need to, because you are important to me. Before I met you, I didn’t think it was possible to love someone this much. I didn’t even think I would love someone. Now you have become my light, my inspiration, my life, and you’ll always be.”

Even in her sleep, a smile formed on Amy’s lips as if she’d heard him, but her breathing, now even, told him she hadn’t woken.

Maybe he needed to say these things aloud more when she was awake, even if he knew she understood his feelings without the need for words, although she never asked him to. Maybe because she never asked of him more than she thought he was comfortable with.

Maybe when she woke up. For the moment, Mozart shifted his position carefully to pick his girlfriend up to put her somewhere more comfortable, and maybe where no one would walk in on them, because he couldn’t help but smile back whenever he looked at her.

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist / Next Chapter

#be my valentine ccc #fluffbruary 2023 #ikevamp #ikevamp mozart #be my valentine content creation challenge #fang's writing #ikemen vampire #fanfiction #ikevamp fanfic #oc: amy #calm in the storm

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acacia-may · 10 months

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How To Catch A Mermaid [Sunfish Fic for OMORI Rare Pairs Week]

When Sunny is sure he has spotted a mermaid during a walk by the ocean, he is determined to befriend her. The only problem is she thinks they are just playing a game. Soon Sunny is left with a faraway song, a whole collection of seashell jewelry, and a very important question: how do you catch a mermaid anyway?

A Sunfish Mermaid Meet-Cute AU created with @randomsprinkles for OMORI Rare Pairs Week 2023 Day 5: AU Prompt hosted @omorirarepairweek. Thank you for reading!

Full fic text below the cut. Illustration linked here. 💖

As Sunny shuffled his feet across the shoreline, sand began to fill his shoes again. He sighed. His royal advisors likely meant well in insisting he start getting out of the palace to get some fresh air, but he would much rather stay indoors and have a nap. His royal bed was a 10/10 after all, especially since those new silk sheets had arrived as a gift from a kingdom across the ocean. No bed he could possibly make for himself in the outdoors would be a 10/10, but perhaps if he looked hard enough, he could find a relatively nice place for a nap on the beach—maybe even a 4/10 if he was lucky.

With another weary sigh, Sunny pulled his shoes off of his feet, dumping the sand out onto the shoreline. He carefully placed his shoes on the ground next to the picnic basket his sister Mari had helped to pack for his outing and started walking at the edge of the water—feeling the last remnants of gentle waves lapping up against his bare feet. Sunny supposed he liked the water when it was shallow and safe like this, but, despite being the prince of seaside kingdom, he had always struggled with a fear of the deep water. If he had to guess it likely stemmed from the time he had fallen off of his family’s boat and nearly drowned as a child. He wasn’t entirely sure how he had managed to survive that. Mari swore she had glimpsed the tails of some kindly mermaids swimming away after he had miraculously washed up on the shore, but Sunny had been out cold and couldn’t remember. It could’ve been mermaids who saved him, but he supposed there was no real way of knowing, unless someone was somehow able to catch one and ask.

Sunny knew Mari had always hoped to catch a mermaid herself—just to have a conversation and become friends, she always insisted, and to thank them for saving her little brother. She often told Sunny fantastical stories about them—how beautiful they were, how talented they were at singing and playing musical instruments, and how they were kind, curious, and helpful—always wanting to befriend humans rather than cause them harm. Of course, there was no real way of knowing this without actually meeting a mermaid, so it was only a theory for now.

Sunny’s brow furrowed—gazing out at the sea and the horizon for anything resembling a mermaid. He supposed he wouldn’t see much of anything all the way from the shoreline, but he wasn’t about to go swimming, especially when his sister was busy practicing her piano indoors and therefore wouldn’t be able to jump in to save him if he got swept out to sea by an ocean current. No, he’d be better off staying on dry land, and, hopefully, finding a safe and cozy place for a nap.

He could hear Mari’s piano now—the light tinkling of the keys echoing across the wind. She had been practicing this song for months, preparing to perform it for some visiting dignitaries when they came to negotiate new trade agreements next month. If Sunny was being honest, he was a little relieved he didn’t have to perform this time. Practicing his violin was beginning to feel more like a chore than a hobby, and he was beginning to suspect that he would never catch up to his sister who was quite the musical prodigy—beloved throughout the kingdom and all the neighboring ones. He much preferred listening to her play, especially this song, one of her favorites and so beautiful. As Sunny shuffled along the shore, he began to hum along with it quietly to himself, but as strange as it was, the humming got louder—eventually turning to singing.

Sunny stopped in his tracks. That wasn’t his voice anymore. Someone else was singing—someone else with the most beautiful voice Sunny had ever heard.

As his brow furrowed, Sunny looked around the beach for who that beautiful voice could belong to, but there was no one there. He was all alone. Rubbing his hand across his forehead, he gazed out at the horizon line again, scanning the nearby clusters of rocks and the nets and buoys littering the water. He even searched around the legs of the dock to see if anyone was hiding there.

With a sigh of defeat at finding no one, Sunny took a seat on the edge of the dock, dangling his feet in the water. Perhaps he had only been imagining things.

Imaginary or not, the voice grew louder, and Sunny turned his attention to a large rock several meters away. The water splashed and rippled, and Sunny’s eyes widened. Was that…a tail? Had he almost seen a mermaid?

Sunny rubbed his eyes in disbelief, but when they came into focus again, he found he could only blink at the flip of the end of a pink tail and a wave of long blue hair as the mermaid dove back into the water.

Without a second thought, Sunny raced back to the palace to find Mari, practically dragging her back to the beach, but when they arrived all signs of the mermaid were gone.

“It’s okay, Sunny,” Mari kindly reassured him. “I’m sure the mermaid will come back.”

Sunny shook his head with a sigh. He wasn’t sure about that, but maybe there was a way he could lure the mermaid back to his beach.

Over the next several days, Sunny occupied himself on his mandated daily walks by the shore by setting out treats he thought might entice the mermaid to come back. On the first day he left his favorite grape soda on the edge of the dock, but nothing happened. Then he tried some pancakes, fresh fruit, and even a sandwich before realizing that he had no idea what mermaids ate so food might not be the best option.

In many of Mari’s mermaid stories, mermaids were fascinated by humans so Sunny tried to leave small trinkets out on the dock—a broken teacup, a watch, and a fork even a stapler, but the mermaid didn’t seem interested, so he switched to more beautiful items, things that Mari liked, such as a bouquet of flowers or an embroidered handkerchief. But still there was no sign of the mermaid.

Sunny was about to give up when he had the idea of playing music. The next day he took his violin down to the beach with him and played on the edge of the dock for hours. Just as he was about to turn in for the evening, he heard the voice again—singing along with his violin. He was so excited he nearly dropped his instrument before he ran inside to fetch his sister, but once again, as soon as they returned despite Sunny playing the same song on the violin, the mermaid was nowhere to be found.

Sunny would not give up. Every day he took his violin down to the dock, and every day he scanned the horizon line for the mermaid whose voice he heard singing along with him. It was easy to become discouraged, and he began to worry that the closest he would ever get to a mermaid was hearing her faraway voice echoing on the wind. That is until one day during his seventh violin concerto of the afternoon, Sunny noticed something shiny tangled in some nearby seaweed. With a curious tilt of his head, Sunny sunk to his knees and leaned over the side of the dock to fish it out. His eyes narrowed. A seashell?

It was probably the shiniest seashell Sunny had ever seen, a beautiful gradient of color from purple to pink. As Sunny turned the seashell over in his hands, he found that perplexingly there seemed to be some sort of clasp on the back. He wasn’t sure what that was all about but thought that perhaps Mari would know. Sitting the seashell carefully down on the edge of dock, Sunny rose to his feet then began to pack his violin back into its case. Suddenly, he heard a rustling sound followed by a splash. When he whipped around, he found the seashell was gone and the water near the edge of the dock rippling with waves as if someone had dived into the ocean.

Sunny tilted his head. Did mermaids like seashells?

Within days of this near-mermaid encounter, Sunny realized that regardless of whether all mermaids liked seashells, this particular mermaid definitely did. Everyday, Sunny collected the most beautiful seashells he could find and left them on the edge of the dock with a little sign that read “For Mermaids.” Then he sat down beside them and waited. He supposed the mermaid must think she was particularly clever because the water would be still and quiet with absolutely no sign of her for as long as Sunny was watching it, but the minute he turned his back, looked away, or otherwise got distracted the rustling and splashing noises would return, and the seashells would be gone. When he tried to explain this to his sister, Mari suggested that the mermaid probably was just being playful and thought they were playing some sort of game. If that was the case, Sunny wished someone would explain the rules to him so he could actually play too, rather than standing perplexed over the dock and the disappearing pile of seashells.

Sunny supposed Mari was right about the game as soon as the mermaid began leaving jewelry for him in the place of the seashells: mostly bracelets but a couple of pairs of earrings which he gave to Mari. Sunny began to wonder if that’s what the mermaid was using all the seashells for: to make jewelry. He wished he could find her and ask.

With a certain determination, Sunny decided to return to playing his violin as well in the hopes of finally managing to catch her. As soon as he set out the seashells, Sunny would pick up the instrument and play until he heard the distant but ethereal voice of the mermaid. Unfortunately, listening to her beautiful song often made Sunny feel drowsy, and despite his best efforts to stay awake, he found his eyes drooping shut as he fell asleep by the water. Every time he awoke, the seashells were gone with jewelry made from the previous day’s seashells in its place.

This lasted for several weeks until one day just as Sunny was beginning to nod off he heard a rustling sound near the basket of seashells. He carefully opened his eyes just enough to see the rough outline of a hand reaching for the shells; then, quite without thinking, reached out and gently clasped the hand, trying to stop the mermaid before she got away at long last. A young lady’s voice gasped in surprise, and as Sunny’s eyes finally fluttered open, he saw her long, tangled blue hair and the pink fins of her tail. Sunny met her eyes—warm and kind but wide with surprise, but she smiled at him. Sunny’s face flushed. She was very beautiful when she smiled.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” she said with a light chuckle. Sunny nodded. “I’m Cris.”

“Sunny,” he mumbled. She shifted, swimming a few inches until she was right in front of him. Sunny swallowed hard as his blush deepened. She hadn’t let go of his hand.

“Thank you for finding my hairpin.” As she motioned to the shell in her hair with her free hand, Sunny recognized it as the one he had found tangled in the seaweed a couple of weeks ago. He nodded again. He was glad it had found its way home. “And for the other shells too. I hope you like the jewelry I made with them.”

Sunny’s mouth twitched in the corners, and he nodded several times in succession. Cris’s smile widened, but she tilted her head curiously towards Sunny’s violin.

“You play such beautiful music,” she said with a wistful sigh. “But I’ve never seen that instrument before—what’s it called?”

“A violin.”

Cris giggled and flipped her tail in what Sunny liked to think was delight. “And the one your sister plays…?”

“A piano,” Sunny answered, but he stopped. His brow furrowed, and he tilted his head slightly. How did she know Mari also played an instrument?

As if Cris could somehow read his mind, she explained, “My friends and I used to come here all the time to listen to her play. We’re not supposed to get so close to humans, but her music was so beautiful, even if it was really far away.” Cris tilted her head again. “Why doesn’t she come to play on the beach like you?”

“The piano is too big to move.”

Cris chuckled. “My friends, Hero and Kel, will be happy to hear that. We’ve always wondered.”

A tint of rose filled Sunny’s cheeks. Always? “How…long…?” he began to quietly ask before stopping himself, wondering if that was a rude question.

Cris hummed—her brow furrowing thoughtfully. “I’m not sure. We didn’t used to come as much, but ever since you almost drowned, we were worried so we tried to stop by to keep an eye on you and make sure you were okay.”

“You really saved me?” asked Sunny with wide eyes. Mari had been right after all. When Cris nodded, Sunny stared down thoughtfully at his hands and added, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Please try to be more careful out there. Deep water can be dangerous—that’s why I made you this.” As she handed him a seashell necklace, Sunny’s face softened. He recognized these seashells as ones he had been leaving for her for the last several weeks. She must have been working on it for a very long time. Something warm panged in his chest. It was so sweet of her to make this for him. “It’s magic. If you’re ever in trouble at sea again, it’ll protect you.”

As Sunny hung the necklace around his neck, Cris’s entire face seemed to light up. “It looks good on you,” she said brightly. Sunny turned away from her, blushing, but he nodded, reaching out to gently squeeze her hand again. Cris blinked at him in surprise, but she laughed, “I’m so glad you like it.”

Just then the clock tower chimed six times, and Sunny realized that the horizon was turning golden orange with the sunset. He was late for dinner.

“Oh…” he began to say, but Cris gently interrupted.

“I should go. Everyone will be wondering where I am.” She bit her lip and scratched the back of her neck somewhat sheepishly. “I…kind of abandoned Hero and Kel again. I’ve been coming down here without telling them, but I’ll bring them next time. And maybe we can meet your sister too.”

Sunny smiled. Mari would be so excited to get to meet real mermaids. “Can you…come back tomorrow?” he asked somewhat shyly.

Cris giggled. “At the same time?” she asked. As Sunny nodded enthusiastically, Cris beamed at him. “I’ll see you then.”

She gave his hand one final squeeze then turned to swim away, but before she disappeared over the horizon, she turned around one last time to wave at him. Sunny’s face grew warm as she smiled at him and met his eyes.

“And Sunny?” she said giggling with a playful wink. “Thank you for catching me.”

#sunfish #omori sunfish #sunny x cris #cris x sunny #omori rarepair week 2023

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